[ He goes, easily coaxed, shifting carefully to put his weight more on the hip that doesn't hurt so much even as he chuckles at the sensation of Verso's kisses, his voice rumbling against his ear. ]
Take you out? Is that what people do?
[ As if he really were the old man Maelle teases him about being, out of touch and too rusty to remember what a man who has found someone who makes his heart speed and skip and yearn might do. As if it had been more than not-quite-two years since Sophie, as though he hadn't been on any dates since then.
He has, it's just that none of them... Well. None of them were anything like this, and none of the people anything like Verso. ]
First I would have to ascertain your likes and dislikes vis-à-vis dinner, yes? And try to find someplace suitably up to standards that also allows for a dark, quiet corner where I could attempt — and probably fail — to romance you over a bottle of wine.
[ It's the same kind of humorous story he might spin for Maelle, one that casts him in the role of earnest but ultimately ineffectual hero. Maybe it'll make Verso smile, too.
He turns his own head into the other man, ghosting light kisses over his cheek, his ear, whatever part of him he can reach as he goes on, a chuckle in his voice. ]
Tragically, at some point, I would have to admit to you my true occupation... that I am not a florist after all, only an engineer. Extremely prosaic, I know. And hopelessly ignorant in the matters of music and art, so I imagine you would quickly lose interest, perhaps even before the dessert was brought out.
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Date: 2025-05-29 07:47 pm (UTC)Take you out? Is that what people do?
[ As if he really were the old man Maelle teases him about being, out of touch and too rusty to remember what a man who has found someone who makes his heart speed and skip and yearn might do. As if it had been more than not-quite-two years since Sophie, as though he hadn't been on any dates since then.
He has, it's just that none of them... Well. None of them were anything like this, and none of the people anything like Verso. ]
First I would have to ascertain your likes and dislikes vis-à-vis dinner, yes? And try to find someplace suitably up to standards that also allows for a dark, quiet corner where I could attempt — and probably fail — to romance you over a bottle of wine.
[ It's the same kind of humorous story he might spin for Maelle, one that casts him in the role of earnest but ultimately ineffectual hero. Maybe it'll make Verso smile, too.
He turns his own head into the other man, ghosting light kisses over his cheek, his ear, whatever part of him he can reach as he goes on, a chuckle in his voice. ]
Tragically, at some point, I would have to admit to you my true occupation... that I am not a florist after all, only an engineer. Extremely prosaic, I know. And hopelessly ignorant in the matters of music and art, so I imagine you would quickly lose interest, perhaps even before the dessert was brought out.