It was never Bartholomew's intention to wear a skirt, but the pelt seemed to turn into one when Bartholomew put it on (in all reality, it was just a skinned otter pelt, but he just tied it around his waist, and it turned into a skirt that way) and he actually liked the way it looked so he kept it like that. Now, every time that Bartholomew was out, he was sure to take off Mars' pants and trade them for the comfy skirt that let the breeze go between his legs. This was what he really enjoyed. He also was enjoying the man rubbing his cheek all over his groin, though with all of that weird teasing, he better get something out of it, that's what Bartholomew was concerned about. Though, he was sure that he would get something and would be rather pissed if his assumptions were wrong.
Sebastian went to speak about the piano that was non-existent. Bartholomew nodded his head. I figured. It's been da' same with mah brotha'. spoke the man as he felt the male tugging on his tail and rubbing his face against his crotch pretty much. He wasn't expecting the guy to rub his cheek against his jacket next though, and he almost flinched yet again from the male, but had no where to go, so he ended up not moving. Seb commented on Bart's accent and then Bart chuckled. I haven't met any Californians 'round here neither. So I ain't surprised. the wolfdog spoke to the wolf with a smile plastered on his lips. He could feel the buzzing of the wine in his brain and he was enjoying that as well as the attention the other was giving him. Bartholomew returned the attention by batting at the foxy man's ear and giggling at the other. He emptied his wine glass and looked at the other man with icy blue eyes.
Mind if I git 'nother drink, bro? asked Bartholomew, his manners lacking some. Bartholomew took his last drag from the cigarette he was smoking and he put it out on the ground next to the bean bag chair he was sitting on. With the question of who his brother was, a sly grin passed on his lips. Oh, he don't matter much. He's pretty lame anyways. the male spoke, shaking off the question to deal with the increasingly tempting male. There were touches in places that was making Bart both nervous and excited a the same time and a conversation in the middle of it was not really something that Bartholomew thought he would be able to do. He noticed that the man was touching the inside of his thigh, through the skirt, but Bart touched the man's hand and guided it to where he would be able to get under the skirt and even closer to all that was Bartholomew Cubbins(but in all reality, it was Mars Russo).
The sly grin still was on his lips. Wants ta' make this interesting? asked Bartholomew as he let his tongue come from his mouth and touch the top of the other man's muzzle.
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