shadows_have_offended | (no subject)

Entry tags:

harry starks,
ig

(no subject)

He has work in the morning, but it's not stopping him from going out. Besides, this is hardly going out. One of his coworkers put him up on a blind date, and so he's out for that--but the other guy was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, so Neil doesn't think he's showing up at all. So here's Neil, standing outside of a bar, smoking and feeling a bit like an idiot for being stood up.

He should probably just go. If the guy wasn't here twenty minutes ago, or even five minutes ago, it's reasonable to say that he's not coming and Neil should just give up. He pulls out his phone and checks the texts. There's the one from his coworker, describing the guy he's supposed to be meeting, and there's the one from the guy, confirming that he has Neil's number.

Maybe he'll go to a club. Maybe he'll just go home so he can smoke in a heated room rather than shivering outside. Maybe he'll get this fucking meal and send a picture to the guy; his loss. Neil's an entirely pleasant date.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They can be alright, they're just very...flat sometimes." He's gone out with some, slept with a few others. He's been rather charmed, a time or two, by the young man that keeps up after Guy and Anthony; they've chatted a number of times, now that he's been in and out of the apartment. It's different than trying to gauge their interest in a new business. He's got no insight on that at all.

"And there's plenty of us to keep most businesses going, I'd think."

"Yeah, but you wanna be inclusive. At least at first. They don't seem to take it very kindly to us taking over their jobs." Harry speaks easily, quite at ease with this kid. "So you don't want to give off the impression you're imposing on them, or that you're better than them. If Nigeria taught me anything it's that."

Neil listens attentively, because Harry's clearly thought on it in his brief time in Darrow. It's not things that Neil has necessarily had to consider because he isn't a businessman of any sort, but listening to Harry is really quite pleasant.

"Nigeria?" he inquires. "Do you mean the country, or was that a person you know? I only ask because I know someone who goes by Poison, so I try to not guess anymore."

Neil looks like he enjoys hearing Harry talk and that stokes his ego pleasantly.

He smiles. "No, the country. I invested a lot of money in a project there, but... Well, it turned out to.be one big scam. Quite a clever one, actually, but it ain't that funny when you've put in for it."

Neil nods, now that it's cleared up. He's heard, a few times, his parents fighting about money and investments and schemes. Most of it had flown over his head, and he thinks that was deliberate on his own part, not wanting to listen when they fight.

"No, I imagine not," he agrees sympathetically. "I hope things are simpler, at least, to get started and to keep going."

Then he smiles a little flirtatiously. "You did offer me a job once it's off the ground, after all. I think I have to hope for the best now."

It's a very pretty smile and it makes Harry want to forget dinner (well, it's been a while since a pretty boy smiled at him quite like that). But he's always been proper, so it's dinner first. "If you can tear yourself away from your current job, of course," he jokes lightly. "I'll make sure it's a deal you can't refuse."

"I'm a little torn on the music," he admits. "I don't think I understand most of it, or maybe I'm just not on what they're on. I've come across some very strange stuff... But I don't want be too old-fashioned about it either."

"I think it depends more on if I get into my program," Neil admits. He likes the cafe--the people are kind and friendly with him, he likes the customers and the drinks. But if he's in school, he's not sure how he'll balance things. "When you would need me, that sort of thing."

But he thinks on the music. He loves music in Darrow--less the Darrow music than the things that have come in from other places over the years--because he gets to listen to so much variety. "It might depend on the sort of atmosphere you're going for. Not like the dance clubs I go to sometimes, I think."

"We'll make it work," Harry promises. Yeah, well... It's not a job Harry's interest in giving Neil anyway, but it's nice and flirty to pretend it is.

Music is evidently a good subject, because Neil's face lights up. "Not like those, no. I ain't much of a dancer," he says, gesturing himself vaguely. It should be obvious to anyone that he isn't made for dancing. He thinks he'd like to watch Neil dance, but that's a different matter. "Not that I mind dancing in my club. As long as I don't have to participate."

Neil doesn't argue on if Harry is a dancer or not, but he does look him over as he gestures at him, sipping his wine. The dancing here in Darrow isn't exactly formal. It's more fucking with clothes on. He thinks Harry looks like a great dancer, in that regard.

"What about jazz?" He thinks of movies set in the twenties, the speakeasies and dance halls and all that. It's an awfully romantic idea, silly and young of him. But he'd go to a club like that. Not just because of the man across the table from him.

"I like jazz," Harry says. "I put on jazz acts whenever I could at the Stardust. I had Judy Garland perform at my club once." He speaks proudly. It had been a disastrous night for her, but Harry remembered the good bits. It was Judy. At his club.

Neil is, understandably, impressed by the name. He loves Judy Garland, and he can tell that it's a bright spot for Harry, too. There's no one like that here in Darrow, that sort of drawing star power, even if there are a couple up-start musical acts that do well.

"But you could do something awfully smart with a sort of Cabaret theme, I think, couldn't you? Good music and lots of acts and show tunes. People can dance and drink." Neil blushes a little, because he does imagine that all this has already occurred to Harry. "Sorry."

Harry smiles. It occurs to him he's been doing a lot of smiling tonight. More than he's done in a long while. Genuine and easy. And it's all thanks to the boy in front of him.

"Don't be. It's nice to know I'm not the only one who likes that sort of thing. It's a good idea." He's thought of it, but never thought it could work here.

He takes his glass and sips his wine. "And worth the investment if it gets you smiling like that."

Neil blushes again. It's hardly the shy, nervous blushing he got the first time that he'd flirted with Guy. No, he just feels rather charmed, the way Harry lays compliments toward him like he's worth that. He sips his wine as well, takes a moment to focus on his food while he continues to smile rather bashfully.

He lets the meal become quiet, but it's hardly uncomfortable, he feels. He hasn't got a reason to fill the silence, and he comes out the other side still smiling.

He drinks his scotch and soda quickly, and then considers topping off his wine. "Thank you," he says, "for having dinner with me. It would have been awfully boring to have to eat by myself."

"It's been my pleasure," Harry assures. In fact, it's been such a pleasure that Harry doesn't want to say goodbye yet. "Want to have a drink with me somewhere?" He says, forward words spoken just a little self-consciously.

Neil teases a little, because he can't help it. "Aren't we having a drink? We've still got a bit of wine left."

The note of self-consciousness warms Neil through, because he knows that feeling too well. There's a part of him that wants to be forward, bold--they've made the jokes, they've been flirting; it seems natural to see if there's an invitation in there, or just the gentle teasing.

"Somewhere a bit less formal," Harry clarifies, feeling a bit silly for being teased. Neil reminds him of Tommy, who also teased him, especially when they were out and pretending to be proper. It was a good memory of a good time in his life.

It’s the sort of inevitable outcome of the evening, but Neil likes that. He considers the bottle of wine on the table again, the fact that he has work in the morning—none of it really makes a difference, but he would like to be seen as not too enthusiastic (thirsty, a man had called him once; thirsty, his coworkers had teased).

Under the table, he stretches out a leg and catches his foot against Harry’s ankle. “I’d like that, yeah.”

It's not proper what that little nudge does to Harry. Hungry comes to mind. It's been a while since he's had this sort of attention. So, he can't be blame for the little wicked smile that touches the corners of his mouth. "Good," he says and nudges the feet by his ankle in response.

The promise in that smile sinks heat through Neil. He doesn't know if anything will really happen, but it could, having drinks somewhere more private, and he'd certainly be pleased for it to happen.

The waiter brings their check, looking briefly between them before setting it down closer to Harry. Neil feels a little guilty about that--the implication that he needs to pick up the check just because he's the older of them--and reaches for his wallet.

Harry, in turn, quite likes that the waiter puts the check near him without any sort of disdain on his face. There's no judgement and that's refreshing. He puts up his hand, stopping Neil. "On me."

They way he's spending money, he's going to need to get creative real soon, and if he can do it without resorting to picking pockets, he will.

Neil was gracious about the insistence; he doesn't try to push the issue. He knows that Harry is still new, and so there is a little bead of guilt involved with that, but he can always pick up a tab another time. Or pay him back in more pleasant ways.

A voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Nina Zenik points out that Neil shouldn't feel obligated to do something just because a man paid for his meal, but honestly? Neil was going to do it at any rate.

"So," he says with a breezy smile. "My place or yours?"

Harry has a hard time hiding his surprise at that. He meant a place less formal, somewhere they could sit without a table standing between them. He didn't mean either of their places.

But he quickly decides it's a good idea and he'd be an idiot to pass up on it. "Mine. If you don't mind it ain't that fancy."

There is a moment of surprise on Harry's face, one that almost makes Neil laugh and play it off, but then he ascents and Neil feels the nerves of it smooth out in his chest. He smiles and nods, and pushes back from the table so that he can get a taxi for them.

"I don't mind at all," he promises.

He offers his own flat, simply because that's what he's used to. Boys he's known in London didn't have much of a home so it never came up. He knows Neil isn't anything like them; he's educated and employed, but it still feels better to take him to his own flat.

The taxi arrives and Harry gallantly opens the door to let Neil step in first. He puts a hand on the boys shoulder as he gets in, a lingering touch. .

If there's another time after this--and Neil rather hopes there is--he might insist on his place. Not that he minds going over, but he has a perfectly good apartment, music, decent liquor. A dog to be concerned about these days, but he can't imagine Beau being a problem unless Harry dislikes dogs.

But for now, he focuses on this: the moment, the lingering touch, Harry's kind expression. He slides into the taxi and when Harry slides in as well, he sits rather close.