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Post by Matthias Walker on Oct 26, 2012 16:09:20 GMT -5
Blue eyes light up with the laugh that quirks up the corners of his mouth, and Matthias leans back against the uncomfortable mattress in a mock-coquettish, overdramatic pose for a second before it eases into a natural slouch. He raises his half-eaten doughnut at Nate in a teasing toast, but otherwise an answer strikes him as unnecessary: Matthias fully intends to return the coffee cup in person since the offer is out there, and there is only so much that they can do with this game of push and pull in the confines of the hospital. Besides…his gaze slips to Silas, sobriety eclipsing the warm amusement, as the man moves to lean on Nate’s chair, and he doesn’t miss the brush of fingers down his cheek.
And while he is the patient here, the one with the legal right to be in the room, it is still a reminder of his own foreignness. The doughnut and the doctoring are prizes he is content to settle with, for now, and as Silas growls his assent, Matthias takes it as his cue to slip off of the bed, too, moving with a confidence he hopes will keep Silas from stopping him past Nate and Silas both and right on out the door, jamming the rest of the doughnut in his mouth so he can reach out to ruffle Silas’s hair into a mess of sugary cowlicks in passing, spinning around in the hallway to look at them in his retreat.
Matthias has never, after all, believed in leaving without at least one comment to carry him out of sight.
“You kids have fun,” he calls, waggles his eyebrows and shoots them a lascivious grin; there’s a young nurse halfway down the hallway that is giving him a truly spectacular look somewhere on the spectrum between bewildered and horrified, and Matthias is nothing if not encouraged by her presence. Silas is a grumpy asshole and his coworkers and staff can probably use a couple good rumors on him, even in the form of his promise not to duck out of town without getting his shoulder checked: “I’ll see you soon, Doc, I know how much you like manhandling me.”
He winks at Silas with an exaggerated leer, throws off a mocking salute and a grin for Nate, and turns the corner back to the waiting room. That there had been, briefly, a chance of a bed for the night without working for it is a pity to pass up, but not enough of one to stop him. For all that the temptation still lingers, the temptation of a library is a bigger and easier draw that has him ducking out of a side door without waiting for the receptionist to notice him, pulling his jacket up at the collar to fend off the Boston wind. It does not matter that he doesn’t remember where his car is parked; the library is only a few blocks away and Matthias has nothing else to do and nowhere else to be.
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Post by ♥ Nathan ♥ on Oct 27, 2012 13:06:24 GMT -5
Tension is not a foreign concept to Nathan, and neither is the easy way with which he adapts to the cool air in the room, the subtle shifts in his demeanor that allow him to fend off the awkwardness without a care in the world. It is an expression of ego at its finest; that the thoughts and problems of the men around him are none of his concern, and that he harbors no worries of his own. That mask is an act practiced so often it is nearly reality, and the smirk that crawls over his lips at their continued banter sits naturally, confidently.
It is a display of savoir-faire and authority that is undermined in Silas’ soft caress, in the way he paints his fingers softly down Nathan’s cheek. He runs his tongue over his lower lip and glances away, though he leans into the gesture for the brief moment it lingers along his skin, the subtlest response of appreciation. Showing affection as an emotion separate from lust is a difficult thing at the best of times, least of all in public places – least of all with Mattie here, peering at them with that cool smirk. That is a man Nate had meant to impress, not stumble in front of with jealous bluffs while batting doe-eyes at Silas; and though he does not often acquiesce to revealing this weakness, Nathan does nothing. Stranger or not, he cannot – will not – pull himself further away.
But the moment is there and gone in a flash, and all that remains is the warmth on Nate’s cheek from Silas’ fingertips and those discomfiting thoughts in his head. The sudden flush on the surgeon’s cheeks, that way he shifts ever-so-slightly and tenses beneath the werewolf’s brazen gaze, that is all the man needs to wash away the last of the distress; with Silas agreeing, and doing it in that begrudging way of his, Nathan can only counter with an honest and open-mouthed grin. He has a way with words, but action has always been his strong suit, and where the privacy of this hospital room is sterile and terse, the prospect of an afternoon out is lit with promise. A change of scenery would do wonders for their dispositions, and Nathan is alight with the potential in it.
”Perfect,” he replies smoothly, quirking a brow at Silas knowingly. ”He can steal all of your coffee this time.” It is a notion that, despite their playful back-and-forth, Matthias seems to suddenly disagree with. The kid hops off the table with an amount of bravado that manages to leave Nathan hesitating, and before either man can make a motion to stop him, he has shouldered his way to the door as if he had the right to. Nate rises to peer at him from just beyond the threshold, beside Silas, and inclines his head with a haughty set to his chin at the kid’s words. It is vague displeasure disguised as curiosity, mixed with a dash of honest interest, and his lips curl in a daring smile – just who did Matthias think he was?
His temptation to glower and grumble is cut off with a toss of his head and a soft huff of irritation, and he shuts the door as Mattie leaves with a lazy bump of his hips. Leaning against it, Nathan reaches out for Silas to pull him in close, pressing his face to the man’s neck and breathing in deep. The werewolf lingers there a moment, settling, before releasing him, and busies himself smoothing wrinkles from his shirt and absently checking his laptop bag. No problems here. Silas has more than enough right to pursue his own interests; Nathan should not fault him in that, not when he dares to hold himself to a different standard.
”Didn’t mean to scare him off.” Words accented by a dismissive shrug; an aversion of blue eyes. ”You should still take off early,” he suggests, throwing his bag back over his shoulder and straightening. Nate fixes Silas with a tempting smirk, encouraging. ”I’ll buy you a real lunch.”
There’s time yet to salvage the remains of a lazy day gone haywire. Nathan holds out his hand for Silas to take, and will lead him from the hospital and into the early fall chill – away from work, responsibility, and lingering sentiment – should the man deign to join him.
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Post by Zephyr on Oct 27, 2012 15:12:15 GMT -5
He’s left blinking when Matthias passes them in a flash; has very little time to react to the kid’s movements, or even the sticky hand in his hair. So Silas just watches dumbly, lets a half of a grin quirk at his lips, despite the irritation plain on his face. It isn’t like he really gives a fuck what any of his coworkers think of him, his irritation is mostly borne out of keeping up appearances, after all. He has no idea why the damned brat seems to like him, but Silas won’t lie and tell himself that he doesn’t appreciate it.
Still, there are more things to appreciate right now when Nate closes the door and pulls him to him. Silas presses himself against the other man, silent and appraising. He lifts a hand to trail long fingers through Nate’s hair for a moment, the privacy of the room something he has taken for granted in the past, and quiet affection like this is not something that they indulge in often. And now he’s just so goddamn thankful for that privacy.
But the moment only lasts for a second, and Silas lets his hand drop to Nate’s shoulder for a moment. He eyes Nate for a second. “I’m glad you did.” The doctor says, with only a little of his usual grumpiness in his voice. He isn’t sure how to get it through to Nate that he is the one Silas wants to spend time with. “Brat gets on my nerves.” He growls at last, stepping away from Nate to go dispose of the donuts in the room. And he catches Nate’s eyes and holds them for a second and there is absolutely nothing than can convince him that staying and working is better than spending time with his best friend…not with that smirk and the invitation in those eyes.
Normally, he gets upset when Nate buys him stuff, because he has a goddamn job and makes enough money to buy whatever the hell he wants. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it, and he flashes one of his rare smiles at the other werewolf before he approaches him. “Fine.” He grumps, feigning indignation in his voice perfectly well. “But I’m buying your goddamn lunch tomorrow.”
Without another word, he take’s Nate’s hand and follows him out into the cold, content to leave behind his work for a few more tempting promises.
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