Need P1 - Nipples

Seymour eyed Alex's almost naked body with a shudder, why did he have to be standing like that? So brazenly, hands on hips, pelvis seemingly tilted somehow towards him? It was most unpleasant, and quite distracting.
He shook his head, trying to regain focus.

“Sorry, Mr Solvay?”
“I said where're Cass an' all that?”
Seymour's composure quivered at the sentence, the other man's use of English was entirely preposterous today. He could see he was going to have to make an effort to stop the crew becoming savages while they were on this... little trip. He sighed.
“I haven't seen them for a while, in fact. Look, can't you put on some clothes or something? I could actually do without your nipples staring over at me all day.”
It took the other man a moment to process that, when he did he frowned his response. “Excuse me?” His bottom lip jutted as he peered down at himself, inspecting his chest. “What's wrong with my nipples?”
God he was stupid.
Seymour waved an irritable hand. “Just... find something to put on.”
A thought then clearly sidled its unwelcome way into Mr Solvay's mind, as his now raised eyes gave a flicker of uncomfortable recognition and he cleared his throat awkwardly before softly enquiring:
“Shower memories, is it?”
Seymour cringed. I do not want to go into that. It isn't the time he looked around briefly at their plush leafy surroundings or the bally place.
“Please shut up.”
“Um, Seymour I did have a robe on. You couldn't even see my nipples.”
Seymour sighed again, “I really don't want to talk about it."
He flapped the other hand, Mr Solvay an irritating mosquito in the bedroom of his calm. "Now do be a good chap and run along, would you?”
Alex gave him a bad tempered glare. "Be like that, then. S'not like I wanted to shower with you.” And he stomped off into the undergrowth.
Seymour didn't know quite how one could stomp so effectively with bare feet, but he didn't much care. What did he know? After all, it'd been a while since he'd even had legs. He was just relieved to have removed the silly man from his presence, now he could give full attention to his thoughts - what had he been thinking about again? Oh damn and blast it. That idiotic Neanderthal had driven it from his mind...

Alex sulked off, grumbling to himself, he'd only been trying to be nice, and interact with another human being properly for once. Whatever.
Perhaps if he could find his neglected blanket he could fashion it into a... poncho... or something, seeing as his body was allegedly so offensive.
He plodded on, harrumphing at the insult and hoping he'd bump into Cass or Phil, (or “Nicotine” and “Alcohol” as he was secretly, selfishly, needily, starting to think of them) on the way up to the rock. Thoughts of finding a drink were haunting him like the after images of an especially vivid nightmare and in truth he was concerned about how he would manage around the others if withdrawal influenced irritation, and the always shameful shakes, kicked in.
No quarters to hide in or retire to, or drink in unseen, down here. He was a private man and knew this stay was gonna be tough on his reserved nature. Holiday? Ha.
As for the likely minuscule cigarette supply, it didn't even bear thinking about.

A nasty, hungry little monster somewhere inside him chose that moment to run its forked tongue over the enticing possibility of nicking Cass's remaining fags, next time he noticed she was otherwise engaged, maybe when she was asleep and in the throes of one of the terrible nightmares he'd noticed her suffering during both nights they'd been here.
Don't be such an asshole.
“Eugh” he said aloud, disgusted at himself - the thought had been brief, but he didn't like that it had even existed. He hoped he wasn't on the path to becoming a selfish twat again. His dependency on certain substances, during one horrific unceremonious crash from the wagon, had cemented the break up of his marriage. Well, that and the women. The women. Man, he missed the women.

“What's up?” Someone enquired. "What's 'eugh'?"
He jumped guiltily and blurted “nipples!”
It was the red headed girl. Her eyes widened. "Pardon?”
He swallowed, trying to gather his wits. “It, uh, Seymour. Complained about my nipples.” He winced, wishing he was thinking faster than he was speaking. Smeg's sake! Shut up Solvay.
She made a face and gave them a quick glance. “They seem pretty inoffensive to me.”
Was that a compliment? Inoffensive nipples. Or an insult, maybe?
“Bit small, perhaps.” She added.
He quickly crossed his arms, curiously feeling more self conscious and out of his depth than he had in a long, long time.
The girl frowned, seemingly confused at his jumpiness.
He realised he'd reverted to teenage body language and dropped the arms, leaning one against a tree instead, hoping to appear casual while he was trying hard not to wonder about Molly's own... chest.
Cigarettes, cigarettes, cigarettes.

“Don't have any cigarettes, do you?”
“No, sorry.”
“Ah.” He lifted his chin, disappointed, and gazed about, noticing only then that her shadow wasn't around. “Where's your sh- Where's Jacky?”
“I dunno, I was gonna ask you if you'd seen him actually.”
He shook his head and ran his free hand through his hair, hoping it looked nice after Phi had brushed it. “Nah. Sorry.”
She gave a small polite smile. “All right then.”
“All right then” he repeated, watching her lips.
They were good lips. It was a shame she didn't have any fags, those lips'd look good around- Well, anything, really.
"I'll be off now then." She told him, her accent slightly colourful, and aurally pleasing.
“Lips...” he mumbled.
“What's that?”
“Nice lips.”
There was an awkward pause, then she gave a bemused crease of her forehead. “Um, thank you?”

He felt sleazy, but he couldn't stop.
“What's your name? Sorry I forgot.”
“Molly.”
“Molly.”
“Yes, Molly.”
"I'm Alex."
"I know."

He cleared his throat again and gave her a twisted smile. Might as well ask, what did he have to lose? His blanket? He'd already lost that.

“Listen, Molly...”
"Yes?"
"I know you're with the kid" he used the word on purpose "but, if you ever, uh..."
He leaned towards her, just a little. She stepped back some, wary. “If I ever what?”
“If you ever fancy..." He lowered his voice and his head, retaining steady eye contact. "... something a bit different... with someone a bit more experienced..."
She narrowed her eyes, realising for sure now where this was going.
He continued, on a roll. A stale, fuggy brained, bastardly, roll. “... I'd be up for that...”

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End of Part 1, continued in Part 2, next -->
<Sir Onion once said if you write a long post it can help to break it into 2 parts. Why there's... two parts.>
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