Neal leans in to the kiss, glances sideways to make sure he threw the chain on the door, and lifts his own glass briefly to his lips for a sip of the very good wine before he sets it aside on the kitchen table. “Ever wanted to make love on the city view veranda of a millionaire’s mansion? Because there are some surprisingly comfortable lounge chairs out there and it’s a beautiful evening.”
He doesn’t draw attention to his word choice, but it’s intentional. Shy, and sideways, and ultimately deniable, but intentional.
When they go to sleep, Neal actually smiles a little as he drifts off. His cabin on the Barge is great, as close as it’s possible to be to the real thing, but it’s still different. The quality of the air, the smells that linger most prominently in his mind. Falling asleep in his apartment, his real apartment, with the man he would drink to that he hopes will drink to him, is a gift and a strange kind of joy.
He’s still very deeply asleep, curled around Norton, when the veranda doors open quietly in the middle of the night. A narrow-faced man in a leather jacket stands just inside the apartment, watching the two of them in bed. When he speaks it’s with an unapologetic Jersey drawl.
“You know, he only ever sleeps that deep when he trusts somebody. Really trusts them. I’m amazed he managed to keep you so quiet that I don’t even know who you are.”
short timeskip… lmk if you want to roll back!
He doesn’t draw attention to his word choice, but it’s intentional. Shy, and sideways, and ultimately deniable, but intentional.
When they go to sleep, Neal actually smiles a little as he drifts off. His cabin on the Barge is great, as close as it’s possible to be to the real thing, but it’s still different. The quality of the air, the smells that linger most prominently in his mind. Falling asleep in his apartment, his real apartment, with the man he would drink to that he hopes will drink to him, is a gift and a strange kind of joy.
He’s still very deeply asleep, curled around Norton, when the veranda doors open quietly in the middle of the night. A narrow-faced man in a leather jacket stands just inside the apartment, watching the two of them in bed. When he speaks it’s with an unapologetic Jersey drawl.
“You know, he only ever sleeps that deep when he trusts somebody. Really trusts them. I’m amazed he managed to keep you so quiet that I don’t even know who you are.”