FSE

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They look to be cut to accompany a ball gown, and the material appears to have the shine of satin. There's an intricate pattern that is sewn along the seams. He'll most certainly need to take a closer look later or contact one of his experts when he finally gets home.

The bell rings to inform the sailors of their approach to the dock. He closes the box, carefully running his thumbs to the latch to secure it shut. Since the gloves survived this long, it would be a shame if they were damaged before he had a chance to truly appreciate them.

When they finally make it to port, he gives the turtle sailor a firm handshake and salutes the captain a final time. "Certainly a pleasure to do business with you, captain." Though he has the air of professionalism, he cannot hide the little tell-tale smile that gently dimples his cheeks.

The captain forces her own awkward smile, but extends her arm to him. "May you have all the fun in the world, Mr. Dai. But, if you ever want to discuss your hobbies sometime, let me know next time I'm in port."

Once back home, the former admiral heads immediately up the stairs to his bedroom. There, he takes in a nice deep breath. The scent of a clean and tidy room is so refreshing, even after a quick trip out at sea. It is easy to keep a bedroom tidy when it is lightly furnished with only the necessities. After all, no one is going to come in here and look at things. His public trophies are all displayed in the most organized and efficient means possible in the foyer. His room, however, is his private sanctum, and even more cherished is the walk-in closet just to the side of his bed.

The doors open for him, allowing Dai to walk in and place the box down in the center of the room. There, lining the walls in their glass cases, are his most prized gloves. Each of them are beautiful works of art that he collected over the years, enshrined in glass for easy cataloging and use when the occasion calls for it. They range in many lengths and materials, but many never see the light of day outside. These he wears when he's alone.

With the box down, Dai is finally able to relax. He lifts his hat over his head, making his ears twitch in their newfound freedom. He removes his jacket and his slacks, hanging them up to be ready for the dry cleaners tomorrow. Soon, however, the only things he has on are his gloves. He gives them the same tender care as he did his previous pair, and once off, he places all four nicely in his glove-washing basket for glove-washing day. His bunny tail wiggles gently as he thinks about the fun he will have individually cleaning each and every one until they are back to their most supple, soft, and natural state.

Of course, they aren't the only things that need a bath. A sniff confirms to him what he already suspects. Life on the sea is dirty, sweaty work, and that is no state to be in while amid his precious collection. So, he heads out of his room, and goes on over to his bathroom. It is a small one, with a bath made for one that serves as a shower as well. His walk from the bedroom to the bathroom passes the towel closet, so he has all he needs as he traverses his empty home, feet padding along the wooden floor and echoing in the homey silence.

Dai can't seem to get away from water. Whether he is on a ship, cleaning his collection, or taking a nice, warm shower, it's a part of his life--ingrained in his soul. He practically melts as it sprays over his face and chest, running rivulets down his body. The therapeutic spray does wonders to loosen him up. Keeping appearances for others is stiff work, to be sure. But he's home now: no more decorum to follow here.

With a push of the faucet, he ends the stream, and pulls a towel free from its rack. He dries himself off vigorously with well-practiced motions, but as he wraps the towel around his body, making a makeshift dress of sorts, he pauses, feeling that tingle down just below his belly, and he bites his lip.

It had been awhile since he had felt this playful. Perhaps... he should celebrate his new acquisitions?

He gives himself just enough time to dry off, his fur slick and shiny thanks to the conditioner. He smiles at himself in the mirror as he combs his hair, making sure to get that wavy wild mess to follow the proper directions for his signature curls and bangs. Satisfied, he turns out of the bathroom, his feet padding along the tile once more, but slightly sticky from the residual moisture. As he approaches his room, his eyes dart about his house and his ears twitch. Sure, he is all alone, he knows that, but there's just something about a new, naughty plan that puts him on edge. What one does in their own bedroom should be theirs to know, and theirs alone. He cannot help but wonder, though, if the captain might have suspected? But how could she? It is his most well-guarded secret.

As he enters the room, he drops that line of thought and shivers as the cool, controlled temperature of the bedroom touches his body and the soft carpet squishes underneath his feet. He tiptoes his way past his bed, past the closed curtains, and over to his precious glove display. He squats down, his knees brushing his towel-covered chest as his naked hands stroke the wood case once more. A shiver runs up his spine, and he can't help but giggle out loud to himself as he pulls the latch back once more. He opens the box gently, his eyes widening once more as he looks at the gloves.

Licking his lips quickly, he nudges his fingers down underneath one of the gloves, scooping up the fingers gently as his other hand lifts up the long sleeve, unfurling the satin-- definitely satin--garment. He pinches by the end, running his thumb up and down along its length. Despite all that time on the derelict vessel, the glove looks as clean and as the day it was first sewn. And what expert sewing it has! The seam is hidden beautifully underneath an artfully woven pattern. The shapes resemble some type of script. Oh, how fun would that be to decipher? He runs his fingers over the markings and finally notices his discomfort as the towel pokes against the flesh between his legs.