2019-12-29 - A Little Understanding

The snow may be starting to melt, but Dante is still suspicious. That was the first time he's been snowed in, and he definitely doesn't like it. He opens the door to greet Elias. He looks, well, a bit tired, a bit ruffled for him, and he's wearing a (for him) simple black suit. "Hello dear. Come on in."

Elias, on the other hand, seems entirely unphased by the snow, even a little charmed by it, but he seems to sympathise with Dante's aversion none-the-less. He's dressed in a pair of black jeans and combat boots with a dark blue sweater with little flecks of white in it, having come straight over from the shop after work. He lifts a hand to brush against Dante's cheek and jaw as he comes in, looking a bit concerned, "Are you okay?"

"Just a bit of cabin fever and a few restless nights of sleep. And a touch of writers' block. I blame it on my isolation. I don't do well when I'm not around people. Like a plant not kept close enough to the window. Drink?" As always, his flat is immaculate, and light on personal touches.

"Are you sure?" Elias asks, still considering Dante's features for a moment before letting his hand fall away. "Yes, please. Whatever you're having, tonight." He then wanders toward the kitchen, leaning up against the counter, comfortable in this space after several visits now, not that he was ever uncomfortable, but he seems to make himself right at home. "I had a visitor at the shop today."

"I would hope you would have several visitors, being a shop and all," says Dante with a little grin. He heads towards the kitchen as well. He pulls down two glasses, then goes to the fridge. He fills each with a generous pour of Chardonnay, then hands one over to Elias.

"Generally speaking, yes," Elias says with an amused smile. "I suppose I should have specified a somewhat unexpected visitor." He accepts the glass when it is handed to him and lifts it, saying, "Cristobal stopped into the shop," before taking a sip from it.

Dante nearly chokes on his sip of wine. A little dribbles down his chin. He reaches up to dab it. Coughs a little. "He did. Why? Did he..." he clears his throat. "...bother you?"

Elias blinks a little in surprise when Dante suddenly nearly chokes on his sip of wine, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder, and waiting until he seems to be alright. "No?" Elias says, once he's sure Dante isn't going to choke. "He came in to buy books. He didn't even realize I owned the place until after we ran into each other. We talked a little bit."

"Ah," says Dante. He looks a bit embarrassed. He reaches for a paper towel to dab his chin and shirt. He goes a bit quiet, like he's not sure what to say.

"He asked me to check on you and seemed concerned," Elias continues, "Which is why I was asking if something was wrong. He seemed.. out of sorts, and not in his usual surly way."

"Ah, well, we had...an encounter. A few days ago. Nothing to be concerned about, though. All is well." Dante doesn't sound too convincing. He follows it up with a swallow of wine that's not really appreciating the complex taste.

"If you don't want to talk about it, I won't pry into it," Elias says, though it's clear that he's not convinced that it was nothing to be concerned about. "He said something about ... well, he meant to say that he'd screwed the pooch, as it were. But he didn't say how or go into any detail."

"He thought I was wrapped up in some underworld dealings, and that's where my money came from. And he made a very misguided attempt to scare me straight, I think." Dante looks into his glass of wine and clears his throat. "I told him I do quite well for myself, thank you very much, and gave him one of my books. I try not to be an egomaniac but it did prove my point."

"Ah," Elias says, as that does seem to now make a bit more sense. "He came in asking for all of your books," Elias says as he lifts his glass and takes another sip from it. "He didn't know you were an author? He did seem a little surprised when I told him how many you'd written and showed them to him."

"He knew, but I'd imagine he thinks that I'm like some people who are authors, who might be closer to the start of their career." Dante purses his lips. "It just speaks to how little we actually know one another." He looks a bit surprised. "All of them? Even the nonfiction ones?"

"Yes, all ten of them," Elias says, "Everything that I had in stock." He sets the glass down on the counter and toys a little with the stem idly with his fingertips as he listens. "He mentioned something about not having much in common. I told him sometimes not having a lot in common can make things interesting. He implied that things hadn't gone well between you." He doesn't use Cristobal's exact words, but it's a close enough approximation.

"I'm sorry you got caught up in the middle of this. I can ask him to stay away from you." Dante reaches across the counter to cover his and give it a little squeeze. "It's all very awkward. And I'm sure not what you want."

Elias shakes his head and turns his hand over to squeeze Dante's, "No, Dante. I'm just telling you because I wanted you to know that he seemed upset, and genuinely remorseful for whatever it was that happened. I could tell he cared. The same way that I could tell that you cared when we ran off to go make sure he was okay in the middle of the night." He looks into Dante's eyes then and says, "It's not awkward for /me/ at all. I offered to let him talk if he wanted to talk about it. But he didn't want to go into it. Which doesn't surprise me." Though he does pause and ask, "What I want? What are you unsure of about what I want?"

"He came at me. Physically. It was a bit scary, if I'm being honest. I'm not much of a fighter." Dante smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It's a way of trying to smooth things over and brush it off when he's not really feeling it. "In retrospect, I think it was his...very...misguided attempt to show concern for my safety. But in the process, he did make me feel quite threatened." He clears his throat. "This business about not being exclusive. If you're actually all right with it, or if you've agreed for my sake. But in particular, finding your way into the middle of my drama with someone else."

Elias frowns a bit when that particular detail comes out and he says, "I'm sorry. I didn't know." The concern that was in his features never quite fades but now it grows once more. "That's.. not okay at all." He takes in a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. But then he says, "I was in a non-exclusive relationship with my best friend for ... better than eight years. She dated others. I dated others. Sometimes we had others between us. Honestly and truly, Dante; I am perfectly comfortable in a non-exclusive relationship. I am comfortable and confident in what I feel for you, and in what we seem to have together. I don't even mind the drama with Cristobal. He didn't bring any drama to me, really. We talked. He was not at all in any way a dick. And we parted comfortably. If there was any awkwardness at all, it wasn't on my part."

"You tell me if he does. Because aside from that incident, I got the distinct impression that he has dealings with...the less law-abiding elements of the city. But maybe it's an open secret about the Firefly Club, and I just haven't been here long enough to hear all the whispers." As he speaks, Dante rubs his thumb over the back of Elias' hand. "I know I've asked it before, but if you do become uncomfortable, you'll tell me, yes?"

"If he ever does, I will let you know," Elias says, "But he hasn't, thus far. And I don't anticipate that he will." Though at the mention of the Firefly club, Elias shrugs his shoulders and says, "I have very little involvement with that sort of underworld. I deal primarily with the shiny sparkly more mystically dangerous sort. I leave the mundane illicit dealings to those who don't have to worry about being dragged off into the Veil at random." His smile tugs faintly at his lips. Though then he says more seriously, "I promise you that I will tell you if I am ever uncomfortable about anything that has to do with us. And you told me that you would do the same, and I expect you to do so. But Dante, I am not going to be a source of drama. I will wade through it with you if necessary, but the insane Veil-related things in the world create all the drama that I need. I don't need to make my own." He chuckles, then.

"That is remarkably wise," says Dante. He still looks worn around the edges, but a bit more of the spark has returned to his eyes. He sucks in a breath. "Ah, by the by. I was wondering what you thought of postponing our little Seattle jaunt. I'm still a bit nervy about the roads, and there's likely to be sales into January. I hear there's a big twenties themed 'do locally."

"I'm an old soul," Elias says with a little wink, in part in response to that little bit of spark that seems to be returning. He loves that spark when it touches those dark eyes. There's the faintest flicker of disappointment that touches his expression when Dante mentions postponing Seattle, though when he offers up the Gatsby Ball as an alternative, he brightens immediately. "I love a twenties theme. Sure, that would be just as much fun as going into Seattle. Let's do that."

"All right. And we'll do Seattle as soon as the weather turns back to proper Pacific Northwest drizzle and gray instead of snow. Plus, after the holidays have fully passed, things do sort of settle into the doldrums. It'll give us something to look forward to." Dante looks pleased that Elias brightens. "And it's a theme with so many suit possibilities." Not that he needs an excuse to put on a flashy suit.

"True enough, once we're well into January and February, there will be a need for something interesting to do," Elias says in agreement, seeming to be perfectly okay with that arrangement. He then considers the ball and looks thoughtful "I'll have to see what I have that will appropriately suit a 20s theme. I don't think I've ever done one before." But, that seems to be a challenge that he is up to. "Appropriate ball-wear in 48 hours? I can do that."

"Should I go blue pinstripe, or coat and tails?" Because Dante definitely has both. "Red velvet with a waistcoat might go over well as well." He sweeps a look over Elias, dressing him with his eyes. "You could pull off so many looks. And each look, I'd want to pull of you." His grin splits wide as he knowingly makes that cheesy statement.

Elias seems to consider Dante, envisioning him in all three of the options before he says, "Red velvet. I want to see you in lush crimson on New Year's Eve," decisively, more than easily giving his opinion on the matter and flashing a broad smile. He rests his elbow on the counter, chin on his hand as he lifts his glass of wine to take another sip, letting Dante look him over. "I do love it when you talk dirty to me," he says with a lazy sort of smile. "i'll have to wear something appropriately complicated. Too bad it's not a Victorian theme. I could give you all kinds of buttons and fastenings to undo."

"We could do that just for the fun of it," says Dante. Hints of the shark appear. Dun dun. He leans on the counter as well. "I have just the suit. I don't tend to worry about the occasion for my suits, but this one is a bit much, even for me. So it will be perfect for a ball."

Elias' smile broadens and he lifts his glass of wine, brows lofting suggestively as he takes a sip at that suggestion. Then he says, "Something that's a bit much for /you/? Then I definitely made the right choice. I can't wait to see it." He then considers, "I may need to go with a pinstripe, myself. I don't really think I have anything period appropriate. It may require raiding the attic, which has a truly fascinating collection of family heirlooms.. and quite a few clothing items that I've altered and purloined over the years."

"I could see you in a more formal versio of a newsboy. Pageboy hat, bracers, shiny shoes, bow tie, waistcoat." Dante's doing the dressing with his eyes thing again. "I'd offer my closet, but I doubt anything other than accessories would fit."

Most would be flattered to be /undressed/ by another's eyes, but there's something about being /dressed/ by Dante's that seems to please Elias, curious about what the man sees him in. "True," he considers, "Though it seems a little informal for a ball." He smiles then and says, "Were I as tall as you, or as broad of shoulder, but unfortunately I'd be swimming in most of your clothes, as envious of them as I may be." He smiles. "I appreciate the thought, though."

"I wouldn't want to see you simply emulating my style, in any case. You've got your own. And frankly, you can pull off a whole host of things I never could. Hell, you could show up in a flapper dress and turn heads for all the right reasons." Dante seems to mean that seriously rather than a joke.

"I could, but honestly, drag has never really been my thing. The whole thing with the skirt was purely because Sparrow delivered it to my doorstep and how could I turn down such a gift? But it's not something I'd necessarily do without some reason," Elias admits. "It was certainly fun, however." Not a single regret. Then he smiles, "Oh, don't worry. You are very uniquely you, and I am very fond of my own personal style. There's no danger of us becoming clothing twins."

"Not drag, just...flexibility with the bounds of conventional wardrobe rules. Milan fashion runway style. Which, by the way, is somewhere I could never take you. You'd get snapped up for a glamorous life of walking runways." Dante leans across the counter and grins.

"Well, it's fortunate then that I have absolutely no interest in walking runways," Elias says as he leans back across the counter, getting very close to Dante. "So there's no danger of anyone snapping me up to become a model. I like my books, and my author." Despite the /my/, it's not possessive so much as just being sure Dante knows it's /him/ that he's referring to, not some generic gaggle of authors, plural. He then steals a kiss from those lips that are so close.