Logs:Erosion

Erosion

Players

Western Ave North
21 August, 2022

Razi reveals a bit more about himself.

A street in Chicago is never going to be //empty//, but midmorning on a Sunday right smack in the middle of church time is probably a little bit less crowded than at some times. So, there are no huge crowds yet on the longest street in the city to obscure one particular man who's walking down it right now.

Javi is not moving purposefully -- or rather, he //is//, but not like he actually has somewhere to go. He looks like he's looking for someone, or considering he mostly seems to be scanning the ground, some//thing//. He even stops at one point, stepping off the sidewalk and crouching down to peer into a storm drain like he's in the middle of reenacting some Stephen King. But at least he doesn't talk to anything in there. He just looks, and by the look on his face when he straightens up and moves on, he didn't find whatever it was. Actually, he's not looking exactly like himself at the moment. He looks //fine// -- if he didn't usually look like he's been dialed all the way up on all frequencies, it probably wouldn't be noticeable. But right now it's like some of them have been turned down a little bit, subtly muting him.

Sunday means that Razi is not working, which means that he's not in a suit. He's even dressed down to /jeans/, with a soft henley rather than a button-down, which undoubtedly marks the most casual Javi has ever seen him. Not that Javi /is/ seeing him yet. And Razi doesn't see him either as he moves down the street for some particular purpose or other. It's not until his gaze catches on the hint of someone /crouching to look in a storm drain/ that his gait slows, and then there's a swift moment of double-take when that person straightens, and Razi realizes he /does/ know who it is. He pauses then, peering at him, taking in the entirety of that aspect. "Javier?"

Javi had been about to move on, but as soon as he hears his name he stops. It takes him a second to turn around to face Razi, so the little wince that flickers across his face probably can't be seen, but //maybe// he can hear the words murmured under his breath. They're in Spanish, so he may or may not know what's been said, but if he //does//, they are something like, "Of fucking course." Because Javi knows who it is without looking, since only one person in Chicago calls him that, and it's one of the few people who he'd actually want to try and avoid being seen by doing weird things like peering into storm drains.

However, once he turns around he's fixed his face to push away any potential embarrassment, and while his smile is also a little muted, it's still sincere. "Oh, hey," he replies, lifting his hand briefly to wave before it drops again. "Good to see you. What's up?" Yes, nothing odd going on here. His eyes drop to take in the outfit, but the glance is quick today. "Sunday's casual day, huh?" It's a little joking, though very light. He, of course, looks much like usual, with his sneakers and jeans and a tee with an Aztec-looking bird playing a guitar on it and the words 'Cafe Tacvba' underneath. A band, probably.

"I suppose," Razi says, the response sort of -- neutral in its mildness. "People do like to make a big deal of it when I'm not in a suit." Although, from his tone, he doesn't particularly blame them. He's one of those people who almost seems like he might have been born in one. Rather than go through the pleasantries of describing his errands, he simply moves directly to the point: "You seem out of sorts. If you're displeased to have run into me, I can move on."

"Mm hmm." No argument here, especially since Javi's just done it, but he doesn't press the issue beyond the single comment. His hand comes up to run carefully back over his hair, then down to smooth over the front of his shirt as if that's going to do anything (it doesn't). When Razi goes on, though, his eyebrows raise, and he's quick enough on the reply that it's probably the truth. "Oh, nah," he says, shaking his head. "Not at all. Just been kinda...a weird week?" He glances behind him and down to the storm drain, and then also opts to just explain. "There's this little girl who's looking for her stuffed animal, right? And every time I go by where she's at she asks me for it, and I know I'm never gonna find it 'cause I don't even know how long ago she died so I know I gotta just send her without it but it always feels kinda shitty to do that. But then if I don't look for it for a while after she asks me I feel bad. So, yeah." He is apparently looking for a ghost's stuffy.

"That sounds..." How does it sound? Razi takes a moment to consider the right word before finally landing upon, "...difficult." He's quiet another moment, hands in his pockets, as he studies Javi, and eventually his voice comes quieter when he says, "There isn't always a solution to every problem, as painful as that may be sometimes. Presumably she will not accept a different item. We're all particular in our attachments, I suppose."

"Yeah," Javi agrees. "Kinda sucks." He shrugs again, slipping his hands into his pockets and glancing another direction, perhaps toward where the girl //is/// The laugh that escapes him at Razi's accurate observation is a little wry, and he nods. "Right," he confirms. "Told her I'd bring her pictures from the store and she could pick whatever she wanted, like anything, but nope. It's the blue doggy or nothing. Not even a new blue doggy. Gotta be the one she had before." He lets out a little sigh, turning back to the other man wish some vaguely amused resignation, though it's directed inward toward himself. "Just a soft touch, I guess. You want some coffee? I've already been looking for like an hour, I can probably call it now."

Razi's gaze tracks to follow Javi's, as if he might suddenly be able to see the little girl, too. But all he sees is that empty, open air. His gaze lingers for a moment before finally returning to Javi at that offer. It takes a moment as he weighs it, studying the resignation in Javi's face, before he finally says, "All right." He doesn't sound reluctant about it. Just...deliberate.

"Cool." Javi does seem pleased his offer has been accepted, but not //extra// excited or anything like that. Just a regular amount. His movements are a little bit less sharp today, too, like some of the edges have been smoothed down by something or other.

He looks more purposefully up and down the street to reorient himself, before he picks a direction and starts that way. "So what're you up to today?" he asks. "Anything exciting on the schedule?" You probably can't even spit without getting some on a coffee shop where they currently are, but he deliberately passes the first one they go by in favor of another one a little further away.

Razi seems comfortable allowing Javi to take the lead in what specific coffee shop he wants to visit, unbothered by the fact that they pass at least one on their way. His smile is very faint at the question. "Errands," he says. "Business. Nothing quite as exciting or involved as your particular task." He falls silent a moment, his gaze slipping to Javi as they walk. "Is this how you spend most of your free time?"

"Feel like any business you're gonna be doing is probably pretty involved," Javi replies with a glance toward Razi and a little huff, "but I get you." He turns away again to look ahead of him, scanning the street absently as they walk. This time it doesn't seem to be for any particular thing -- though if he //did// find a blue stuffed dog, he'd probably pick it up -- but just from habit. "Yeah," he continues, "pretty much. I mean, they're everywhere around here and they all want something so, you know. There's always another one to do. I like to keep busy." Shocking.

They come to the place he wants, and he reaches for the door to open it so Razi can precede him inside. Once they're there, he heads toward the line, looking toward the other man again. "You were pretty chill about it when I told you about it," he observes. It's not a question, though there's obviously on in there somewhere. Still, it could easily be ignored.

Razi makes a quiet, thoughtful sound at Javi's guess about his business. "I suppose it depends on your perspective." A beat. "I also like to keep busy." /Also/ shocking. He steps into the shop when Javi so politely holds it open for him, and there's a ghost of subtle humor that passes his features for Javi's words. He looks to him, studying him with a different sort of focus now. "Yes," he says, the agreement mild. For a moment it seems that might be the only response he'll have. But then he finally continues: "I've encountered much stranger, and much scarier, things in the world than someone aiding ghosts, Javier. You were also 'pretty chill' about certain things I told you when you enlisted my assistance last week."

"Hm, yeah." That Razi would also like to keep busy, that is. Javi moves up in the line, apparently content to not get an answer to his tacit inquiry -- he doesn't seem like he was expecting one. He also seems fine with being studied in whatever way Razi cares to do it, though he doesn't draw any particular attention to it today. But when the other man actually goes on, his eyebrows raise, and after a moment his smile pulls a little wider.

"Yeah," he says, "I figured." He nods, filing it away, and he does not deny that he was not surprised about things that came up in their somewhat strange conversation. "I know you got something going on," he confirms. "You and Fi both do. Feel like that's probably part of why you're so close." Again, he asks no questions, and this time he doesn't even leave much space for an unspoken one. "My weird shit's not the kinda weird shit where I can figure out other people's weird shit. Just a feeling. But I'm pretty sure." He's been speaking quietly, but since it's their turn now, and he stops with the 'weird shit' entirely so he can reach into his pocket to pull out his wallet and order a plain black coffee. Then he gestures toward Razi to indicate he'll get the other man's, and steps a little to the side so he can order, too.

"Fiametta and I are close because of shared experiences," Razi says, quieter there a moment. "And because we chose to be family to each other." His gaze shifts subtly to the crowd around them, rather /cognizant/ of their conversation, and those others in earshot. "In any case, I also cannot recognize what someone else might be beneath the surface, unless they are like me." There's a longer moment before he adds, "It can also be...damaging. In a way. To reveal it and not be believed. So we are often careful who we share it with." He falls silent as Javi steps up to order, and there's a subtle shift of his brow when it seems that he's ended up on Javi's tab. He lingers on that for a moment before stepping up. And then, with the even, mild voice of a man who has long since refused to be self-conscious about his drink orders, he asks politely and seriously for a nutella latte.

Javi's face softens a little bit when Razi further clarifies, and he nods. "Makes sense," he replies. "She's really great. Actually ran into her yesterday, too." He does not seem to think anything in particular of Razi's order, except maybe to be glad there was no argument about him picking up the tab. He hands over the money and heads down to the end of the counter to wait, but when Razi continues another laugh escapes him. It's more dry than amused, though there is some of the latter. Not his usual bright good cheer, though -- definitely a darker shade today.

"Yeah," he says, "I get that. I mean, it's not the same for me at all 'cause I'm barely even anything, but a while back I was seeing this girl and I told her about it and you better believe she ghosted //me// like //that//." He brings a hand up to snap his fingers on the last word. It's clear he knows that isn't the kind of damage Razi meant, but he's made a conscious choice to skim along the surface and let the other man explain further, or not, as he chooses.

"She is, yes." It is a simple, instinctive sort of agreement. Fiametta's value is as intrinsic and necessary as the air he breathes. He moves down the counter with Javi, waiting for their drinks with his usual reserve. His gaze has slipped away, watching the varied crowd as they speak, and there's a moment's pause before he says, "That's not quite what I meant."

It's in that space of lingering while they wait for their drinks to arrive that, after some silent consideration or debate settles in his mind, Razi says, "Somewhere private would be a more appropriate venue for this conversation. My house isn't far. If you're comfortable with that."

Despite whatever has dimmed his mood, Razi's clarification has Javi laughing again. This time it's closer to something usual for him, pushing back whatever shadow is lingering there so that the light can come through. "Yeah," he replies easily, his tone shifting more toward actual humor again. "Still sucked, though."

He seems to be happy to wait in silence for their coffee, but that invitation is truly unexpected. He turns from the counter to squint up at the other man, first just to process it, but then to do his own considering of it from various angles, and weighing things in //his// mind. But eventually, he nods. "Okay," he says, "sure. Yes." It's just in time for their orders to be up, and he reaches to grab his so he can take a sip. It has the added benefit of giving him somewhere else to look for a moment.

"Yes, I imagine it did," Razi says quietly, and his voice is not without a certain amount of empathy, despite his habitual sense of distance. His gaze slants to Javi a moment for that answer, then slips away again as he reaches for his own drink. He takes a sip, careful of the heat, and then says, "All right." Without any further word, he waits only long enough to assure himself that Javi has everything he needs before he begins to lead the way back out of the shop. "You were already in my neighborhood, really," he says. And so he sets off, presumably in the direction of his residence. The silence that settles isn't precisely awkward on his side, but he doesn't seem to feel the need to fill it, unless Javi decides to make conversation.

It doesn't take long to be ready. Javi doesn't add anything to the coffee or take anything else from the bar, just follows Razi out the door and onto the street. "Yeah," he replies, "guess I was."

Surprisingly enough -- maybe -- he also doesn't try and fill the quiet with anything other than that. He walks along, drinking his coffee and looking around, mostly in an absent way but sometimes more specifically at a particular spot, in the way he has now and again of staring at empty air like there's something there. Which, of course, there is for him. He doesn't speak to it, though there are times where it seems like //it// may be speaking to //him//, if Razi is paying attention to that sort of thing. But whatever it says, if anything, he keeps it to himself.

It's only a few minutes, really, until Razi finally turns to approach a classic-looking greystone in in Lincoln Park. Just the neighborhood suggests a certain amount of affluence on his part, and the townhouse likely confirms it. He draws his keys out to unlock the front door, stepping inside and making sure to keep the door propped long enough for Javi to enter as well.

Inside the townhouse, there are enough modern touches to indicate it's had renovations over the years, but it definitely has nineteenth century bones. Razi takes a moment to slip off his shoes onto an appropriate rack in the foyer before moving further inside to the kitchen. "If you're hungry, Fiametta makes sure there's always something about. I forget to eat otherwise."

Javi has obviously spent time in this neighborhood before -- well, he's spending time in it right now. Plus, he does seem to be everywhere. So, he doesn't necessarily //stare// at the surroundings, but he definitely looks, especially when they get to Razi's building. And maybe he looks like he feels a little out of place for a moment, but he shakes it off pretty well. "You got a really nice place," he remarks once they're inside, and he's quick to follow Razi's example with his shoes, slipping them off and stowing them out of the way before he steps away from the door.

He makes his way in the same direction, but his route is more circuitous, because he's taking time to look at everything. It's absent curiosity, something that's always on rather than pointed at anything in particular. He even leaves off his inspection of things when Razi speaks, and he turns toward him as a smile pulls wide on his face again. "Oh yeah?" he replies. "That makes sense. She's got that whole taking care of people thing. Feeding 'em, making sure they get home okay if they're drunk. Nice to have someone like that in your life." However, he lifts his empty hand, adding, "I'm good, though. Thank you."

Razi's home is much like he is: clean, organized. Classic. He clearly has money, but there's nothing ostentatious in how things have been decorated. The hints of warmth are more likely due to Fiametta than him. There's a split living room and dining room off to the other side and beyond, and presumably bedrooms likely upstairs on the next two floors. (Townhouses are on the narrow side of things, after all.)

"Thank you," Razi does say, because that's what one says when someone is complimenting your home. He takes a sip of his drink, and then he says, "I bought it from the savings of the thing left behind to replace me when I was taken." Totally matter-of-fact! It's possible that he's now watching Javi with the subtle curiosity of one waiting for a reaction.

Javi takes a sip from his coffee, glancing briefly around once more at the surroundings, but that matter of fact statement brings his gaze back again. He doesn't reply immediately, but he also doesn't seem //surprised//, which may be notable. He takes his time, and again there's a sense of taking that piece of information and filing it away somewhere -- perhaps more chaotically than Razi would, but maybe he has his own mental system.

"So you're a Lost person," he finally says. "Guess that makes sense, too." It's his turn to study the other man more closely, his gaze moving over his face as his head tilts to the side, but eventually he speaks again. "Sorry," he says. Is that what one says in these situations? Maybe not, but he does seem to mean it, much like he does when he says anything. "Don't really know a whole lot about it except that it's really fucking horrible."

While Razi was certainly curious to see Javi's reaction, he's not entirely surprised to discover a certain amount of recognition there; it seems instead to confirm something for him. "So I am not the first you've met," he presumes. There is little further to glean from Javi's study that he has not already seen; Razi is certainly not suddenly dropping his Mask for a peek. He smiles, but in a sharp, humorless sort of way, like cut glass. "It's not the most pleasant thing, no. The manner in which we become what we are, in any case."

But such details, it seems, do not come without expectations in return. And so Razi asks him, "Have you always seen ghosts?"

"Nah. You aren't." Not that it needs confirming, but Javi does it anyway. He nods slowly as Razi goes on, but unlike many times they've seen each other, the smile from the other man doesn't draw one from him. It's not really a moment for bright grins.

He also isn't necessarily surprised by the return question, even if he hesitates before answering. However, fair is fair, and so the wait isn't too long. "No. Not always." Another pause, though quicker this time. "Started when my brother died. He was the first one." Now, there //is// a smile, though it's small, and doesn't go all the way up. "Sometimes ghosts get stuck on a thing, when they get made. Not always. The ones who don't kinda just fade out eventually, especially if no one's there to remember who they were. But he got stuck on me. So he's the one who's hanging out with me all the time."

"I admit I don't know much about them," Razi says of the ghosts. "There are ghosts in the Hedge, which is a sort of...liminal space between this world and where we were taken, but I believe they are different from the ghosts here." His eyes shift back to Javi, though, and there's a weight to his gaze. The sort of empathy, subtle as it is, that is born from the understanding that comes from experience. "I am sorry. For your brother," he says. "I imagine that helping those you didn't know in life is a painful enough prospect."

"Yeah," Javi agrees a little more quietly, of the Hedge ghosts. "Actually went in there the other day, for like...a thing." He lifts his hand to wave it a little vaguely, like that's going to help explain what the //thing// is. It doesn't really, but he doesn't clarify further. "Tried to find one but I couldn't do it, they aren't the same." A beat; then: "Probably better that way. One of those things that'd eat me or something." He's trying for a joke, but it doesn't quite land.

He takes a breath, letting it out slowly as he glances toward the door. He's not trying to escape -- maybe that's where his companion is. "Thanks." He shrugs, turning back to Razi again. "He's not always like, //right// there? Like he's waiting outside right now, but yeah. I don't really have to do it like I do it's a thing now, I guess. Kinda used to it."

He falls quiet again, taking some space to consider the other man before he speaks again. "Guess I get your whole complicated thing now, huh?" This time when the humor slips in again, it hits better, and his smile holds even if it's a little smaller than usual.

"You /what/?!" This will, undoubtedly, be the sharpest and most emotive Javi has ever heard Razi be in their short acquaintance. He's not yelling, but he's been shocked into a voice louder than his usual mild tones, and his gaze /fixes/ on Javi with sudden, intense focus. "The Hedge can be /incredibly/ dangerous for us, much less for humans. What in the /world/ were you doing there?" And it is not just idle curiosity; there is a sharp judgment waiting to be laid at /somebody's/ feet once the person responsible becomes clear.

Oops. That sudden burst of unexpected emotion from the normally //extremely// stoic man has Javi literally flinching in surprise. His eyes widen, and for a moment he seems as if he might actually be considering that escape that he wasn't looking for before. He doesn't take it, though -- he takes a breath, and the unnatural stillness in his body relaxes fractionally into something more steady, and less of a freeze reflex. "I was helping out with something." Which doesn't clarify a whole lot, really, but if Razi was expecting a name right away, he will be disappointed.

Razi draws in a slow breath, setting his drink down and flattening both hand son the kitchen island as he leashes that rare reaction of outburst. There's a long moment of silence that follows Javi's answer, and Razi has drawn his gaze away from him. Finally, his voice mild and controlled once more, he says, "The Hedge is, as I said, very dangerous. Whoever took you there was being..." His mouth tries to find a word to shape that is adequate to what he's feeling. "...irresponsible with your safety. You don't have the sort of powers we possess to defend yourself there."

Javi's breath does seem to have worked -- and as he watches Razi get a handle on himself, the wide-eyed look shifts into a firmer set of his jaw, especially when the other man continues. "Yeah," he replies, "I get it. I'm not you guys. But I'm not totally fucking useless. Ghosts aren't all little girls who want you to find their stuffies or friends who pretend like they're throwing a cup to act like they're tough. Some of 'em set buildings on fire. Some of 'em can make you do shit. Some of 'em get inside your head. Maybe I can't turn into a bird or whatever but I've been staying alive for a while doing this by myself."

"My concern is not a commentary on your courage, resourcefulness, or ability, Javier." Razi's voice has, undoubtedly from conscious effort, become even more even. Even more mild. "It is not an insult. It is my awareness of the level of danger the Hedge poses for /any/ of us. Death is not the only threat in here." There's a moment, a beat, where he just breathes, and then he says, "None of us, none I have ever met, would wish our fates upon even our worst enemies. Much less people we actually find /tolerable/."

Javi blinks, then lets out a little scoff and shakes his head. "Just pissing everyone off now," he remarks, though it doesn't actually seem directed at Razi. Nor is it at his ghost companion -- he's already said he's waiting in the hall. It's just general, and there's some amusement there even though he also sounds annoyed. And even though Razi is now extremely, extremely mild. So mild. "Not even trying today, fuck." He refocuses on the other man, taking a few steps toward the kitchen and setting down the cup he's already forgotten. "If someone I care about needs my help and there's something I can do, I'm gonna do it. And I know there's things I can do that you can't 'cause I //am// human." He pauses, and then, inexplicably, a laugh escapes him. A real laugh, much closer to his real ones. "'Tolerable,' huh?"

"I am not pissed off," Razi says, in that implacable manner of someone who is pissed off but is very good at hiding it. He pauses, inhales a breath. "I am not upset at /you/," he amends. Edits. Clarifies. "I am unhappy with whomever took you there, because they put your life in danger. I can hardly be angry that you agreed to help someone, because helping people seems to be your primary method of engaging with the world." And there, at the end, as Javi laughs, Razi lifts a hand to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. His hand settles back on the counter, and he's quiet for a moment. "And we're not," he murmurs. His eyes finally turn to find Javi again. "You're a person who's heart is so large it can be seen from quite a ways away, Javier. I'm surprised you haven't bled out from how exposed it is on your sleeve. My life is complicated, and eternally dangerous, and while I don't have strict rules against /any/ involvement with mortals, I do...try to avoid anything long-term that might bring them too close to that danger."

"Oh yeah," Javi agrees, wide-eyed again (though exaggeratedly so this time), and still with something in his voice that sounds like he's about to laugh. His mood has //definitely// lifted, so that's...good? Maybe? "You're not pissed off. That's why you're about to put a hand through your fucking expensive-ass island." He looks pointedly at Razi's hands, which are actually //not// pressing down hard on it anymore. But they //were//, and he noticed it. That's the important thing. He lets him off the hook when he clarifies what they both know to be true, but even so he still looks pretty amused.

When Razi looks up again, though, he will find Javi's eyes on him, too. He's not //right there//, but he's close enough that it wouldn't take a whole lot for either of them to reach out and touch each other. He doesn’t interrupt -- actually, his attention is quite focused now. It hasn’t been buzzing around quite as much today as it usually does, but now it’s risen again, and pointed in the same direction. "You're acting like I’m tryna get you to move in with me, Razi," he replies. "I know I’m cute but relax." His tone is light now; teasing, and as easy as the other man's is tightly controlled. "No one said shit about long-term. I wanna take you to dinner.” His smile pulls a little wider as he admits, "Maybe make out a little, see what happens. But you're not the only one with a complicated life. Yeah, I’m nice and fun and all over the place and I like helping people out but you barely know anything real about me. Just like I barely know anything about you. Not gonna challenge you to the bad shit Olympics 'cause I know you'd win but it turns out I've been through some. I can take care of me. Been doing it for a minute now."

"The only thing that would accomplish is breaking my hand, which I am rather in need of," Razi says with notably dryness. "I am not in possession of particular /strength/." A beat, and he says a touch quieter, "Nor am I especially violent."

But when Javi continues, all teasing and /proximity/, Razi has to sigh. It's a sound touched by exasperation, but also, despite himself, a hint of affection. "You're willfully misrepresenting my words in order to flirt with me," he points out to Javi, as if Javi were not /surely/ aware of the fact already. "I'm not competing in any Olympics, I simply see these matters in terms of--" It's unlike him to have to grasp for a word, to have begun a sentence before he knew the end, but there is, perhaps, the /tiniest/ bit of fluster here. "--probable outcomes. I have enjoyed your presence in my life these past few weeks, and I wouldn't want to jeopardize that." A beat. "'See what happens' is not generally how I live my life. Beyond that, how old even are you? I'm fairly certain I have at least a decade on you, which is hardly insignificant." He lays it out so cleanly, beat by beat. The legal defense of Why It's Impossible For Razi To Accept A Dinner Invitation.

Javi lifts his hands, palms up, as if to placate Razi by conceding his point, but since he's moving anyway, he might as well take a half-step closer, right? It's just convenient. "Uh huh," he agrees, "I bet you are." His eyes drop to Razi's hands again -- though as close as they are, maybe they end up looking at other things, too. "Doing lawyer things. Writing contracts." A pause. "Notes." All those things.

His gaze lifts a little more slowly until it's settled on Razi's face again, and this time when he smiles, it's one of those that barely manages to be contained by his face alone. It's possible he's enjoying watching Razi have to search for the words he wants, and being the cause of it. "I am? Huh." Who knew! Not him, that's for sure. "You could enjoy my presence other places, too. I'm just saying." He almost can't keep it together at that last point -- his lips twitch, but he //barely// manages to hold back a laugh. "I'm twenty-six," he says, once he can trust his voice. "And a half." A tiny bit slips through at that, but he covers it by reaching forward to take hold of the other man's shirt in order to urge him a little closer. "It's one night," he points out, his voice a little lower now. "A couple hours. It's not like you're wasting a year of your life. I promise it'll only be a //tiny// bit fun. Barely any fun."

"Now you're making fun of me," Razi points out, just keeping a running narration of Javi's attempts, it seems. As Javi steps in closer, there's a tension to Razi's frame, not just his habitual sort of restraint, but just an /awareness/ of that proximity. This close, Javi can likely smell the coffee on him, and something that scents subtly of ink, parchment, and pages. Like the warmth of a library.

His breath draws in on a slow inhale -- almost, but not quite, a seethe -- as Javi works so very /hard/ not to laugh. "And I'm almost forty. If not older." His voice is lower now, whiskey-rough, and there's a hint of resignation that speaks to erosion in his defenses. The tug on his shirt has him shifting just a step closer, and he sighs. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" he murmurs, close enough now that his height advantage has him looking down just slightly to see Javi's face. "Is this just about the sex?" he asks, grasping at straws, almost as if /that/ would be easier. More straightforward. Simple and transactional. "You have no actual guarantee of my performance, you know. Or my entertainment value."

"Yeah, a little," Javi concedes cheerfully -- or as much so as he can, with his voice pitched lower and a little more quiet as it is right now. His head tilts upward so that he can keep his gaze steady on the other man. "You mad at me now?" He takes a breath himself, and while there's nothing supernatural about any of his senses -- besides that whole ghost thing -- he can get enough of the scent to make it clear he enjoys it.

When Razi steps forward, he shifts the rest of the way to close what little distance there is between them, settling his other hand on his hip before it slides around to the small of his back. "Okay. So what?" he replies, apparently unconcerned about their respective ages. And then, finally, the laugh slips out, but it's more of a dry snort at that last question. "Of course not," he says dismissively, and in a bit more normal tone. "You seen me? I'm cute as fuck. If I just wanted to smash, I'd go hook up in a club." He gets //very// slightly more serious now, though not more sober, as he continues. "Said I wanted to see under there, right? I'm not talking about sex. I like you. You're interesting. Yeah, you're hot, but whatever. There's hot people everywhere. I wanna get to know you. That's it."

"No," Razi says, his voice dry now. "I'm not mad at you." There's a moment's pause, a consideration, before he adds, "I'm mildly exasperated." One hand remains flattened on the counter of the kitchen island, but the other curls fingers restlessly inwards at his side, as if arguing with some instinct to touch.

"I've seen you," he confirms quietly, and his voice is serious in counterpoint to Javi's humor. "You're very handsome, Javier." His breath exhales in another soft sigh as his resistance slowly whittles further. The silence extends, as his hand all but /itches/ with restraint, and his breath comes in that careful, even way that can only be purposeful.

"Fine," he finally says. "Dinner. One night. I'm certain that once you discover how dull the company of a person who thinks of nothing but work is, you'll move on to more promising prospects."

"Mildly exasperated," Javi echoes, like he's trying it out, and he tips his head to one side to consider whether he thinks it fits or not. "Can't decide if that's better or worse than 'tolerable.' I'll let you know." Either way, neither of the descriptions seem to bother him. He presses a //little// closer, so there's really no space at all between them to speak of, and even though he's looking up there's the sense that he knows how much effort Razi is expending trying to hold his hand steady and away from him. But if the other man wants to do that, that's his business. Javi won't force him to do otherwise. He'll just do what //he// wants to do.

He grins as Razi goes on, first at the comment whether he's handsome -- even though he's already said it -- and then even more widely once it's finally accepted. "One night," he confirms. "I know that was hard for you." He's the very picture of sympathy. Or he would be, if he weren't still highly amused. And if the other man didn't go on with what he says. He is not buying it. "What do you get out of lying like that?" he wonders, but before Razi can answer he shifts forward again, leaning up like he's going to kiss him -- only he doesn't. He moves at the last moment, bringing his lips as close to the other man's ear as he can. "Actually, you know what," he murmurs, "don't tell me. I'll figure it out."

Then, all of a sudden, he lets go and steps back, letting that space open between them again so that he can lift his hand to point at Razi. "No take backs," he remarks, still with a laugh in his voice. "I'll text you. Yeah?" Either way, he's not going to stay right now. Because this is Not About Sex.

Javi doesn't exactly help mitigate Razi's level of exasperation with all that /sympathy/. Alongside the question that follows, Razi looks just about to retort -- he's /opened his mouth/ to start forming the words -- when Javi leans in and manages to quiet him with just by dint of proximity alone, that motion that seems about to become a kiss -- until it doesn't. Until it's lips nearly against his ear, and words murmuring warm against his skin.

The space between them feels particularly chill in its suddenness, but it at least gives Razi a moment to collect himself. To act as if nothing strange, untoward, or alluring has happened in the past thirty seconds. He clears his throat delicately, reaching for his cooling latte, and says, "While oral contracts do exist, I don't believe this one would hold up in front of a judge." He takes a sip. "But yes. We will...talk later." Ahem.

Javi will let Razi pretend. Sort of. He can at least not //say// anything more about it, but he can't school his expression very well even if he'd wanted to, and right now he doesn't try. He takes another step backward, eerily accurate considering he's only been in the place once, and then only for a half hour or so. But there seems to be no danger of him accidentally ruining his exit.

"Okay, lindo," he replies, nodding a couple of times -- a few more than necessary, really, but let's all be very certain that he's agreeing -- "sure. Whatever you say. You'd know better than me." The point lifts into a brief wave, "See you." One more moment of looking, and then he finally turns away and heads toward the door, disappearing into the hall and leaving Razi to imagine whatever he wants.