Logs:First Date

First Date

Players

A Fancy Downtown Restaurant
26 August, 2022

It goes pretty well, all things considered. Minus a hiccup or two.

It is the appointed time at the appointed place — the quite fancy restaurant somewhere in Central Chicago that definitely has a name and is totally a real place that exists — and Javi is here! He may have even been here a couple minutes early, but not //too// early. He’s not leaning against a convenient wall today, either, but is standing near to but not in front of the entrance while he waits.

He may not have a closet full of suits like certain attractive lawyers, but he does at least have the one he’s currently wearing. It’s a deep charcoal, and he’s clearly gotten the memo about making sure it fits well. He’s not a big man, with the sort of frame (and, honestly, face) that could tend toward looking like he’s playing dress-up if it doesn’t, but there’s no hint of that today. Underneath it is a pink shirt, crisply ironed — and of course, a tie, medium gray with small lighter pink dots at regular intervals. The combination might be a bit more fun than someone else might choose, but the effect is that it makes him still look like //him//, even though there’s none of that ostensibly-careless-yet-likely-purposeful dishevelment he generally favors. He’s //very// sharp, right down to the last detail, but still himself. Just dressed up.

Javi has likely seen several of the business suits in Razi's wardrobe over the past month or so, but law is a conservative field, and it seems unlikely that he's worn this particular suit to the office. It's a bit more slim in its cut, a bit more modern and stylish. And, of course, there's the color: a deep burgundy, rather than a more typical black, grey, or navy. The button-down he wears is a contrasting black, as is the thinner tie which is marked with a silver tie clip. Three-piece, still, which seems to be a favored style for him. All the details are subtle in some ways, but they add up to a whole that offers an impression of greater formality in some ways, but also more fashionable. It's a party or function look, rather than court or the office. And, naturally, it's all tailored and pressed to perfection.

Is the subtle note of surprise in Razi's features when he steps close enough to spot Javi insulting? Maybe. Who knows what he'd expected, based on what he's seen of him before. Whatever the reaction, it's swiftly smoothed away as he steps up into easier conversational range. "Javier," he greets him, a subtle lift at the corner of his mouth. "You look...very nice."

It //may// have been insulting, but honestly Javi might have thought it was funny, hard to say. However, he happens to be looking in a different direction at that moment, and by the time he turns around to see him, the expression has been dispelled. //His// reaction to seeing the other man is more obvious. Of course, that's probably not a surprise.

"Hey," he replies, and then he takes a moment to fully take in the effect. His smile pulls wide as his eyes drop, then make their way back up -- but it's not //that// long, and appreciative rather than truly suggestive. "You, too," he replies once his gaze returns to the other man's face. "That's a great color." He moves toward the door then, opening it so that Razi can go in first -- apparently he's serious about the roles of who invited whom. Or maybe he just likes to hold doors open for people, who knows. "You have a good day?"

"Thank you," Razi says, his voice warmly polite. "I believe Fiametta helped pick this one out a year or two ago. She has a good eye for things." He steps forward, possibly as if to reach for the door himself, but Javi is already there. Something twitches at the corner of Razi's mouth, and then he eases back to allow Javi to open the door for him before he steps through.

"Business as usual, for the most part," he says. "Nothing particularly remarkable. No particular complaints. Fridays are often a bit lighter in my office." He looks back to where Javi presumably will be following him inside. "And yourself? Did you have class today?"

"Oh yeah? I could see that." Fiametta helping choose the suit, that is -- but it's certainly not a dig at Razi's ability to choose things, just acknowledgement that she would probably be good at it. Javi does indeed follow Razi into the restaurant, letting the door swing shut behind him and starting toward the host station.

"Yeah, I did," he confirms, "it was pretty good." He pauses briefly to give his name to the hostess, and apparently he definitely does have a reservation, because soon enough she's leading them back to their table. As he follows her he adds, "Had the first actual like, //test// test last week, and I did okay, so they haven't kicked me out yet." He says it like a joke -- or joking//ly// -- but there's still that little thread of truth underlying it, as there seems to be when he says anything about his class. Like he definitely thinks him failing out is a possibility. "Seeing those flash cards in my nightmares, though."

Razi does not seem surprised that Javi's reservation is LEGIT. He is not /that/ suspicious of his ability to take him to a nice restaurant. He just waits patiently, offering the hostess a polite smile, and then follows as she leads the way back to a table. One hand smoothly unbuttons his jacket a moment before he sits, every motion precise. He lives in suits.

"I can imagine," he says, a hint of humor, wry and subtle, touching his words. "You know, once you graduate law school, everyone then takes an /additional/ class that just teaches you how to take the bar exam. I think I went through quite a few flashcards myself."

Here is where they diverge a little bit -- Javi looks great, and he also looks perfectly comfortable wearing what he's wearing, but he probably wouldn't have remembered to unbutton his jacket before he sat down. However, he's watching Razi, and so when the other man does it, he follows -- slightly later, of course, but not too much so.

"Oh man," he says with a laugh, shaking his head, "that's crazy. No thanks. I better fucking like this job 'cause I'm never gonna go back to school ever again." He settles back, eyebrows raising as he asks, "Is it really true that like everyone fails that at least once? Or a ton of people?" He pauses, before his smile warms again and he adds, "I bet you passed the first time, though."

"I did," Razi confirms, not without a hint of humor there. "I don't know about /tons/. There are some people who unfortunately struggle to pass, and I believe the passing rates for those who have tried multiple times are unfortunately rather low. For those taking their first time, it's something more akin to three quarters passing. But it is a rather intense exam, yes." He pauses a moment, considering a beat. "I imagine yours will be, too. Quite a lot on the line with training for a position like that."

And then he smiles faintly. "Do you think you will?" he wonders. "Like the job, I mean."

Javi gestures toward Razi when he confirms it, but Razi's hint of humor draws some from him, too. It's reflected back quite a bit more obviously than the other man's is, but of course, that's not a surprise either. However, when Razi clarifies, he nods."Oh, yeah, guess that would make sense," he replies. "Probably like...weeds out some people who maybe aren't cut out for it or whatever."

He gets a //little// more serious at the question, but not particularly sober -- just thoughtful. "Yeah," he says, "think I will." His smile doesn't exactly fade there, but the quality of it shifts a little bit before he goes on. "When my brother died, right, it was kind of a whole thing." He lifts a hand to gesture a little vaguely in the air, like that's going to help explain it. It doesn't, but hopefully he doesn't actually need to. "But the EMTs were really nice, you know? Like, one of 'em sat with me and stuff for a while, 'cause they knew they weren't gonna be like rushing him to the hospital or nothing, he was already gone. But yeah, you know, I still remember that. So it feels like something I could do."

"I imagine it's devastating," Razi says, casting back in his memory. "Three years of law school, just to lose it all in the end. Not that there's nothing else one can do with a JD, but still."

But then Javi is talking about his brother, and Razi -- well, he was already quite serious, as he often is, but he quiets and focuses on Javi now. Listening to the story of it. The origin of it all. "They must be present at some of the worst moments of people's lives," he murmurs. "I feel flippant now, using the word 'devastating' a moment ago. It feels as though the work would require a great deal of emotional resilience." There's no real question there; a distant concern, perhaps, for the difficulty of it, but not doubt of Javi's ability. "How old were you?" he asks after a moment. "If it's all right for me to ask. I understand if you'd rather not discuss it."

"Yeah. It's intense." Javi reaches for his water glass, taking a sip from it, but it might be more to have something to do with his hands -- he does seem to be making a conscious effort to be a little bit more //still// today. Of course, it could also be the effect of the suit.

However, when he sets it down again, he shrugs. "It's fine," he says. "I mean, it's not real, like...uplifting first date conversation." A little amusement is back, and if it's not quite as bright as is usual for him, it's still genuine. "But yeah, you can ask me stuff about it if you want. It was a while ago." His finger taps absently against the rim of his glass as he continues, "Fifteen. He was eighteen. So he was always looking out for me before, too. Guess that's why he ended up still here after."

It seems difficult to imagine Razi's close observation will miss Javi's uncharacteristic stillness. The interplay between bright and the moments of dark. The answer makes him pause, as if perhaps it was unexpected. He's quiet a moment, searching for words that seem adequate to the horror that is losing your brother when you're all of fifteen. "That," he finally says, his voice and words precise, "is fucking awful." Sometimes direct simplicity is the only thing that will do.

They're (fortunately?) interrupted by the arrival of their waiter for drink orders, and Razi actually slants a look towards Javi first, as if /maybe/ he's going to take a cue from Javi's order before he makes his own.

Javi's smile still hasn't faded -- it's hanging doggedly on, even if it's smaller, and a little wry. He glances down, but only briefly, and his gaze lifts again when Razi cuts to the heart of it. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. "Pretty much."

He may also be grateful for that interruption, but even though his face really doesn't hide //anything//, it also has the capability of bouncing back quickly. There might be some brief surprise when he's given the lead, but he doesn't miss too many beats before he accepts it. He does not try to pretend like he's a wine drinker; he is pretty clearly not. But it is a wine restaurant -- or at least, maybe he assumes that it is, because he mostly unselfconsciously asks the waiter what he would say was good. Luckily, it is also the sort of restaurant where the waiters would all //definitely// have recommendations, and so after a couple of them have been made, he selects one, some variety of white. When the obligatory question of whether they're going to get a bottle of it comes up, though, he does look back to Razi, eyebrows raising. "You wanna do that?" he asks. A moment later his smile pulls a little wider and he adds, "I'm good either way. Don't know what you like."

Somehow Javi's surprise seems to make Razi second guess himself, but the damage is DONE, everything is RUINED, and so he tries to gently participate in the back and forth with the waiter once he has a better idea of what Javi's considering. And when Javi looks to him and asks that question, he eases a bit. "Sounds perfect," he agrees.

With that matter settled, the waiter disappears to leave them time to look at their menus for their meal selections and the like. Razi glances at it, but seems to make a selection with remarkable swiftness. And then he's left to study Javi for a moment, something -- itching. At the back of his mind. He almost seems close to saying something, but then he lets it pass. Instead, he says, "It was a pleasant surprise to see you at the park this week. Especially because you being there meant Fiametta had a more capable dance partner." And his smile does draw out a touch at that.

Yes, now things are //forever marred// by Razi's error in judgement. Or hopefully not, because actually Javi seems to be fine with whatever interjection the other man makes, and the agreement has him smiling almost as widely as usual. It's all just making it clear, if Razi needed any clarity, that he doesn't really eat at high-end restaurants, but also that he has probably prepped at least somewhat on the expectations.

He also doesn't spend a whole lot of time with the menu, but hopefully it's because what he's going to order was part of the prep, and not because he's too distracted by the company to look at it and will have to agonize when the waiter returns. He's looking at Razi instead, and as is also usual for him, he does seem to note the almost-but-not-quite-asked question. His eyebrows raise when Razi actually speaks, but if it wasn't what he was expecting, he just grins. "Yeah," he says, "it was fun, right? She makes me look way better than I actually am." There's a little pause, before a tease slips into his tone as he continues, "Figured I oughta wait at least until after tonight before I tried to get you out there with me."

"It's not exactly my foremost pastime," Razi says in a voice of sage agreement. "I'm not exactly someone who would be dancing in a club. But I've learned at least a little bit over the years for Fiametta. I shouldn't be anyone's preferred partner on a dance floor, but it always makes her particularly happy, so." It's as natural as breathing, in a way. It makes her happy, and so he does it.

There's a beat, and then he slowly admits, "It's been a while since I've been on a...traditional date."

"//Really//." The knowledge that Razi has at least some knowledge of how to dance has Javi leaning forward a little bit, and while the amusement is still there, it's also delighted. "Guess she really does make you do all the fun stuff, huh?" He's still teasing him, but lightly. And while he doesn't press the suggestion of making him do it at some later point, he has to be thinking about it.

He pauses when the wine comes, and also gives his order -- and yes, he either prepped it before or decided quickly. His choice is not the most expensive thing on the menu, but it's also not the cheapest; it's somewhere in the middle. "How come?" he asks, once Razi has made //his// choice and they're alone again. As soon as he asks it, he lets out a huff and amends, "I mean, it's probably tough for you all 'cause you got stuff going on but there's other people who have stuff going on, too. You said you don't usually do it with, like, humans. Is it 'cause you work a lot?"

"Mostly she makes sure I eat," Razi admits. "I get very...focused sometimes. Distracted, I suppose. It becomes easy to forget. It's--" But whatever he was about to say, he perhaps thinks better of it. "We do our best to take care of each other, that's all." He looks back down at the menu when the waiter arrives, as if he hadn't clearly already decided several minutes ago. His gaze does lift when Javi offers up his order first, and it's possible that there's mental calculation that occurs, but his own order comes readily when the waiter looks his way. Also somewhere in the middle.

The question Javi asks is a bit more challenging, however. He pauses a moment as he considers it. "It hasn't been a priority," he finally says. "The work at my company is not excessively important to me, but my work outside of it is. It's difficult for me to imagine maintaining a serious relationship with someone without them knowing who -- what -- I am, and that is significantly complicated for most people who aren't like me." Another beat, and he adds, "Short-term connections are simpler in many ways."

Javi reaches for his wine glass this time, but again it might be just for something to do, since he doesn't drink from it immediately. "It's good you both got each other," he says, without teasing of any kind -- just sincerity. "Probably really tough if you're on your own."

He does lift the glass to take a sip then, regarding the other man from above the rim, and there's a slow nod when the answer eventually comes. "Makes sense," he replies after a moment of consideration. It's his turn to pause as he considers something //else//, but it's not too long before he asks, "What's the other work you do? I mean, I do what I do with mine but that's not really, like...//work//. I mean, don't have to do it, I just do it 'cause I do it." Another quick pause; then, like he's realized some other potential snag: "Or am I allowed to know about it?"

"It is, yes," Razi says, serious in turn to Javi's sincerity. "I would be a good deal worse off without her." He draws his wine up to take a sip, his gaze slipping away from Javi as he considers how to answer. "In some ways, it is similar work as I do in my mortal profession, simply...more important. But legal or political, in a fashion. It's--" He pauses. "We are not, as a general rule, in the habit of revealing too much to outsiders. It is not a strict law -- I am not bound by oath or pledge -- but we are very careful not to reveal information that could somehow be used to harm us. Which, for the Lost, may often be defined as, 'Any information.' We're paranoid by nature." And there he does smile, even if it's a sharp, humorless sort of expression. "I do think of it as work, but...in the way that it is my life's work. It is difficult for anything else to take precedence."

There's another, longer pause here, and he says, "I also happen to be a remarkably terrible partner in relationships. I work constantly, I'm incredibly controlling, and an absolute nightmare to argue with. I don't generally wish to subject others to that."

Javi doesn't rush him in the answer. He //does// watch him while he thinks about it, though, in the way he has when all the energy that is usually spilling out everywhere is suddenly and intensely focused on a single point. And when Razi starts to explain, he listens just as intently, like he wants to make sure he doesn't miss anything. "Okay," he replies, "I get that. Guess it makes sense that weird people'd have, like, disputes and stuff, too." And he doesn't press too hard, acknowledging the mention of secrecy with tacit agreement by letting it stay there, at least for now.

However, what Razi ends with has his eyebrows raising, and a moment later he lets out a little laugh. Maybe a //bit// amused, but mostly just surprised. "Huh. Okay." There's a lot of considering from him tonight, since he doesn't respond to it immediately, either -- but of course, he does not always have exactly what he means to say at the ready. Things do seem to sort of just come out of him. "Guess it's a good thing I got a lot of my own shit going on too, yeah?" he finally replies, but with a grin. "You can work as much as you want. I can always find something to do." Of course, that doesn't really address the other stuff, but maybe he feels like he's already won an argument against him, since they're out together instead of //not// out together.

"Every sentient being or creature in the world has disputes," Razi says, and there the humor does warm a bit. Like HAH HAH lawyer joke. "And generally there is need for people to help resolve them. Or help build certain agreements between them. As I said before: my mortal work is something of practice for the rest of it." Some of that humor stifles a bit at Javi's joke, though. He pauses there a moment, weighing whether to say it -- and then he says it. "We're not in a relationship, though."

"Yep." After all, Javi tagged him in for a weird one himself! "People need weird lawyers. Weird doctors." A beat; then: "Weird professors." It's just another example. Never mind that his smile gets a little wider, and warmer, and the amusement carries through //very// clearly. It's so present that he isn't even daunted by the last words, though he does lift his hands and nod to concede the point. "Yeah, we're not. I'm just saying." However, it's his turn to get a tiny bit more serious for an admission of his own. "To be honest I only really ever been in one real relationship. Like, a longer thing. So, yeah. Not really sure how I am in one 'cause she didn't exactly give me a play by play. But I probably got some annoying shit, too."

Razi exhales a slow, thin breath; the tiniest tightening of his fingers around the stem of his wine glass is barely perceptible. "I feel as though you are never quite listening to me when I say things like this, Javier," he says, and although no frustration is audible in his voice, the /seriousness/ is. "This is..." There's something briefly conflicted in his features, and then he asks, "Do you think money is what will impress me? Is that why you chose someplace like this?"

Javi's gaze drops briefly to Razi's hand on his glass -- it may be barely perceptible, but whether he's truly perceived //that// or not, his demeanor does shift. He lets out a little breath of his own, and his brows pull together briefly at the last words.

"I took you here 'cause I want you to understand I'm a grown-ass man." His smile is gone now, but he's not //angry//. It is a moment for seriousness on his side, too, and so he doesn't couch it in a joke, or flirtation, or anything else. "Yeah, I don't have that much money and I'm not tryna fool you into thinking I do. No one thinks I go to places like this every day. But I //can// take you out here one time to do something special, and it's not gonna mean I miss rent. Not to bring shit down again but I moved here by myself when I graduated high school and I been living on my own since then. I know how to make a budget. I know how to take care of myself. And I know how to figure out whether someone's worth my time. I //do// listen to what you say. But I see what you do, too. So, yeah. I think you're worth my time. And I think you think I'm worth //your// time. So maybe let's just find out whether that's true before you break us up when we're not even together."

Razi is quiet for a long moment in the wake of that, long enough that the silence extends and settles. There is a sense of him being careful with his words. Forming and shaping them in his mind before giving them voice. It's all there, perfectly composed and formulated. But then, finally, he simply says, "All right." He reaches for his glass of wine and polishes it off. There wasn't that much left, so it's not terribly dramatic, but still. "We're supposed to ask each random questions, right? Proper first date etiquette. Where are you from originally? Since you said you came here after high school."

The silence has Javi leaning a //little// bit forward, like he's expecting an argument. An argument he may not be expecting to //win//, since he does not have any particular arguing skills, except maybe getting mad, which is probably just about the worst one to deploy against an implacable Fae lawyer.

However, he doesn't get one, and it knocks him temporarily off-balance. He blinks, then tilts his head to the side to look //hard// at Razi, as if trying to find the catch. But he's distracted from it by their food arriving, and once they've been left to their own devices again he has apparently decided to accept it. "Guess we are, yeah," he admits, and he lets out a little laugh. "LA," he replies, and then: "Boyle Heights. It's kinda on the side of downtown. Like, a little bit east." Just in case Razi is not familiar. And then, instead of just asking the same question in return, or something similar, he says, "What's the movie you'd be down to watch any day, ever?"

"LA," Razi echoes back, a little surprised. With dinner arrived, he sets his napkin on his lap and shifts a bit in his seat to take up his silverware. He starts off with a bite or two of dinner -- it's a pasta dish, something fancy and delicious with browned butter -- as he considers Javi's counter question. There's a moment where it's clear he knows the answer, but there's a wry twitch to the corner of his mouth. "The Blues Brothers," he admits. "How did you discover your favorite band?"

"Yep." Javi does not ask //why// Razi is surprised, since they are now only asking each other random first date questions, and clearly no follow-ups are allowed. Instead, he picks up his fork to start on //his// food, which is a complicated chicken dish with vegetables and mashed potatoes that probably //also// have a lot of butter and are very delicious. He seems to enjoy it when he takes a bite, anyway. RHis eyes lift to Razi again when he answers, and then they widen in some surprise of his own, before he laughs again, this time delightedly. "Man, haven't seen that one in a minute. But it's good. I'd watch it again."

But //no follow ups//, and so he just focuses on Razi's question in return. "They were playing at this outdoor place when I was like...twelve? Something," he says. "I was supposed to be going somewhere but you could kinda hear it okay from the street where I was at and so I just like...stopped. Then when it got out I asked someone who was coming out who it was." He grins, then asks in turn, "What's your favorite hangover food?"

NO FOLLOW-UPS. Not even when Razi's smile slowly widens at Javi's snippet of a story. The back and forth seems to appeal to his inner Debate Team child in some way. "Egg bhurji," he answers the next question; that one requires less thought. His gaze draws over Javi's face now, and there's been an easing of his manner throughout all of it. "How correct is your astrology sign about you?"

Javi's eyebrows raise at the answer, but with interest -- he may just not have heard it before, and he might be filing it away for later investigation. He obviously cannot look it up right now. He's busy waiting for whatever's coming next -- and when it comes, it elicits a laugh. A real one. It's bright, and maybe a little bit //too loud// for this extremely fancy restaurant with its dress code and impeccably-plated complicated food and romantic lighting, but he doesn't seem to care right now.

"Like, dead fucking on," he replies. But like the one before, he doesn't say what it actually //is//. No follow ups, and only answering exactly what has been asked. This is the game they're playing right now. "If you had to give a presentation on anything //except// work," he asks, "what would you pick?"

"Anything /except/ work," Razi murmurs in echo, thoughtful for a moment. Long enough to take another bite and chew slowly before swallowing. "Jazz," he decides. The humor of the moment continues to lighten him, possibly along with the wine. "What team role would you fill in a post-apocalyptic scenario?" These questions are just getting MORE AND MORE SERIOUS. This one in particular. Have to plan ahead.

"Mm hmm." Javi takes another bite of his food, too, and then for good measure, reaches for his wine glass to finish it off. This answer is not surprising, but it still makes him grin, and he nods once to pronounce it acceptable. His gaze wanders over the other man's face now, too -- and maybe lingering here or there, but //mostly// he's just listening. Because this is an extremely important question, even though he doesn't have to think hard at all about it before he answers. "Scout," he says almost immediately. And then: "If you had a late night talk show, who would you have as your first guest?"

/That/ question has Razi's brows subtly lifting, and it requires a long moment of thought. Gives him time to refill his glass of wine, take a sip, another bite of dinner, all of that. "Gregory Peck," he finally decides, apparently deeming that the rules of their game allows him to pick a deceased guest. He reaches again for his wine, and it's almost to his lips when he asks in a matter-of-fact sort of way, "Do you want to sleep with me?"

"Huh." Apparently Razi is allowed to pick someone who's dead. Javi nods again, filing that away like he's filed everything //else// away about the man who he still doesn't know that well yet -- but better now than he had at the beginning of the evening. And considering the rest of the questions, the one that comes next takes him slightly by surprise, too. He's still looking at Razi, so between the full-on gaze and the fact that he really can't seem to hide //anything// at all with his face, the affect can be seen quite easily. His eyes widen slightly, and there's a hint of sudden color in his cheeks -- but he doesn't look away, and after a moment his smile shifts as he replies, "Yeah."

No clarifying, no follow-up questions...so maybe his next one is a //bit// of a cheat, under the circumstances, but perhaps it will be allowed. "You want to get dessert here," he says -- a little more slowly, drawing it out //just// a bit with his gaze still steady, "or you want the ice cream I got in the freezer back at my place?"

Razi doesn't blush, but he also doesn't try to hold Javi's gaze. No smoldering or the like. His gaze slips away, out to the rest of the dining room, but that hint of something tucked at the corners of his mouth lingers. "I'm very fond of dessert," he muses, /breaking the rules/ by offering commentary on a question. And then he commits a grave criminal act by asking a counter-question of his own before he's even answered: "What flavor?"

Javi doesn't call him out on his apparently //inability// to follow the rules of the game. But he also doesn't look away, and is apparently just as happy to watch him in profile as he is head on. He'll even give Razi an answer, despite it being //his turn//. "Chocolate."

Razi takes his time weighing that very appealing offer. Classic. Delicious. And then he finally turns his head to look back to Javi. "I have salted caramel gelato at mine." It's not necessarily an argument or one-upping. Just another option to consider.

"Hm." It //is// an option to consider. Javi sits back a little bit in his chair, giving due consideration to the counter-offer. These sorts of things can't be taken lightly, after all. But eventually he nods slowly, just once. "Done."

Then, he //does// look away -- but just to find their waiter. It doesn't take him long, and when he does he lifts a finger to get his attention, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to their table, then lifting his other hand to briefly mime writing on it to get his point across. Check, please.

A young man of middling height and slim build, with dark brown eyes and curly black hair, and a highly expressive face. In repose, it has a bit of a sullen cast, but it's rarely ever still, allowing almost every emotion to be read quite easily. Bright flashes of grins, thoughtful furrowed brows -- and angry twists of his mouth, more often than ought to be necessary. His body is never really still, either, and the movements are a little twitchy, less graceful and more quick sharp things vaguely reminiscent of a feral cat.

For a moment, Razi doesn't seem to know what to do with himself now that something's apparently been decided upon. Or some sort of offer has ended up accepted. And so, with his first reaction a little bit at a loss, he reaches again for his wine and takes a healthy swallow as the reality sinks in a bit past those jokes and flirtations. He clears his throat carefully. "Am I going to be able to persuade you to at least allow me to split the check?"

"Nope." Javi is cheerful in his denial, but adamant. However, when he looks back to the other man, he relents //just// a bit. Maybe it's that reaction that is not really very characteristic of any he has come to know of him in their short acquaintance that does it -- or maybe he's feeling charitable right now. Either way, he offers, "I'll let you get the tip, though."

They don't have to wait long for it, and when it comes he shifts in his seat to remove his wallet as he reaches for it to look briefly and make sure of the amount. No widening eyes to indicate sticker shock. He's //fully// prepared. All he does is get out the money to pay, and while yes, it's cash, it's not a wad of wrinkled bills that look like he's scrounged them from couch cushions or something like that. He //does// seem disinclined to linger now, though, for some reason that surely can't be guessed by anyone else at the table, and so he just pushes the check across to the other man for him to do what he's going to do with it.

It seems to take something of an effort for Razi to refrain from arguing his point further. Javi did take /some/ small pity on him, after all, and so he can satisfy himself in the moment by reaching for his own wallet to pull out some cash. It's a healthy tip, although he doesn't spend much time calculating it. He's distracted by...things. Stuff and things.

With check and tip accomplished, it means they can go without waiting for a credit card statement to sign or change for the cash. And so Razi rises, waiting for Javi before they make their way out. Fortunately, cabs are plentiful in Central on a Friday night, and Razi steps up to the curb to flag down a passing taxi. "I don't actually know where you live," he realizes, even if they're not going there /tonight/.

Javi doesn't bother to count the tip, either. Surely Razi has given one that's appropriate. He just gets up and follows after, out of the restaurant and to the curb as well to wait for the taxt. "South Side," he replies; and then, in further clarification: "Oakland." Yes, not a great neighborhood, but he offers it without embarrassment. Well, he //did// suggest going there, so he was presumably fully prepared for Razi to see it. "Next time I'll have your favorite." Ice cream, that is.

It seems his being the one to take the other man out doesn't extend to refusing him the opportunity to be the one to hail a cab, even though he //could// give the address, having been to Razi's place before. However, since they'll get one in a matter of moments, he has to be pretty quick about what he does next. As soon as Razi's straightened up again he stretches an arm across his body to take his sleeve and turn him just enough so that they're mostly facing each other. Then, he reaches //up// to grab his tie, right at the point where it's laying flat above that perfectly placed clip, so that he can pull him down into a kiss.

Razi's breath is just huffing in the suggestion of a laugh when Javi makes that promise, turned away as he hails the cab. And then he feels the hand at his arm and he's turned about, and somehow, despite everything they've just said to each other, he has the audacity to be /surprised/ by what happens next. It's only a moment, though, when their lips first meet; in the next moment, he leans in -- down -- more to meet him in belated response. He kisses with exploratory care, tasting Javi's lips as if fascinated by the taste and feel of them. It takes the cab driver rolling down the passenger side window and leaning over to suggest they have a limited amount of time before he drives off before Razi is startled back to life. RIGHT. Cab. Right.

It's probably good that Razi leans down that extra little bit -- Javi is not particularly tall, and it's not that dignified to have to go up on his toes to kiss someone when he's just spent an evening convincing them of him being a grown-ass man. Of course, Razi wouldn't //see// it, so maybe it would have been fine. Still, this is much nicer. A little sound escapes him from low in his throat when he gets that response, and his other hand reaches around to settle against Razi's back, just for a moment.

He is //also// disinclined to care about cab drivers and having to wait for another one, if this is what's happening during it, but when they break he doesn't try to get him back. He can wait. However, he does make sure to pull the tie out just a little bit more before he lets go, so it is definitely not laying flat anymore, and the smile on his face before he turns to get into the cab can only be described as //smug//. "There," he says as he settles into his seat. "Been wanting to do that for a minute."

"Have you?" Razi's voice is a bit distant. Distracted. He clears his throat a bit, smoothing a hand compulsively down the front of his suit as he takes a seat, but it doesn't do much to fix his tie without greater effort. He gives the intersection closest to his home to the cab driver, his voice /extra/ polite after all that. He clears his throat delicately as he settles back in his seat, not quite looking at Javi. It's possible there's a slight hint of color to his cheeks. "The -- kiss, or the tie?" he wonders a touch belatedly.

"Mm hmm." Javi, on the other hand, does not seem nervous at all now that they've gotten to this point. There //is// plenty of that seemingly endless energy coming off him now, but the quality of it is different. Anticipatory. He's still smiling in exactly the same way when he looks over at Razi at the question, and it doesn't take him long at all to reply. "Por qué no los dos?" He's said it to him once before -- but the quality of it is different now, of course.

Still, as per usual, he seems to sense the other man's slightly flustered demeanor, the politeness over and above even the usual, and so he gives it some deference -- in that he does not try to kiss him again right now, which is surely something one could imagine him doing if knew him at all. All he does is shift his hand until the back of it presses against the outside of Razi's thigh, like he can't //quite// manage to keep his hands completely to himself.

A breath escapes his lips then, a laugh without voice. "Indeed," Razi says, humor a bit warmer there, even if his gaze is still angled towards the window. He looks down at the mess of his tie and, with a rueful twist to his mouth, just tugs it the rest of the way from the clip before loosening the knot at his neck just a touch. "Fiametta won't be home until more or less the morning. Evening hours and all that." The corner of his mouth tugs subtly upwards, despite his best efforts, at the light press of Javi's hand against his leg. He's still for a moment, just allowing the touch, and then he shifts his hand across his thigh to resettle close enough that he can graze his fingertip lightly along the side of Javi's hand. Just the one point of contact. Gliding along skin.

There is something approving in Javi's expression when Razi gives in to the tiny bit of mess he's gotten on him, even if only slightly. He doesn't //comment// on it, but as with many of his expressions, he might as well have. "So I got you all to myself for a while, huh?"

He might have been content to be the only one touching, at least for the moment, but when Razi's finger runs along his hand in return his breath catches, just audible enough to notice -- as if it's something much more intimate than the whisper it actually is. One finger lifts slightly in return, moving toward his hand without losing the contact he'd already established. "I gotta get home kinda early," he admits, a little reluctantly and //definitely// a bit more breathless than usual. "Got a thing I gotta do every morning and I can do it at like eight thirty but it's real important so I don't wanna test it by waiting until, like, eleven fifty-nine." Yet another of his seemingly endless supply of //things// he has to do. "So I don't want you to feel like I'm running out on you 'cause it's not that at all." He has to laugh, though quietly and a little bit forced. "Your place is way nicer than mine."

"Well. I meant more that you wouldn't need to expect her there when we arrive, but you might see her in the morning." Razi's hand shifts a bit further, almost as if he might actually fully clasp Javi's; but instead, he angles things so that his thumb can drag along the length of Javi's palm, his fingers warm and graceful in their light curl. "Of course," he murmurs. "I don't mean to interrupt your schedule. I'm an early riser, in any case." There's a beat of a pause. "I don't sleep all that much, admittedly." And then he smiles, very faintly. "They're all just places, in the end."

Javi's eyes close briefly when that touch continues, and expands. There's a definite sense of purposefully holding himself still now, when at least part of him might want to push ahead -- but it's not just for the sake of being relatively appropriate in the presence of a stranger. He's also enjoying the subtle contact for its own sake, and the way it heightens the anticipation of what's to come.

"It'll be nice to see her," he murmurs. "You can interrupt my schedule whenever you want." Okay, he's a little distracted when speaking now, jumping from thought to thought a little haphazardly. His fingers curl slightly inward toward Razi's hand, then out again. "Guess so. You'll see it eventually." He's made certain assumptions, but he //did// promise his favorite ice cream there at some point -- and it's probably safe to think the other man will be there at least once.

"Will I?" Razi's humor is a distant but palpable thing, as he holds himself in somewhat contained reserve. His thumb continues that slow, purposeful stroke along Javi's palm. No clasp or joining of hands, just -- the contact. He draws in a slow breath, the curve of his smile subtle and averted, with his gaze still on the window. He falls silent for a long moment, grown more comfortable now on the journey. And then he says, "Sometimes I think about what it was like as a teenager. How just holding someone's hand was enough to embarrass myself sometimes. Do you remember what that was like?" His voice is soft now. A low, whiskey-warm murmur.

"Mm." This time, when Javi's eyes slide closed they don't open again. Instead, his head tilts back to rest against the seat -- but there's nothing calm about his stillness. It's as taut as a spring pressed all the way down. His fingers twitch toward the other man's hand again, but then press back, but other than that he doesn't move. It's a very delicate stasis, and once interrupted he may not trust himself to rein it in again.

He's perfectly happy to sit there in silence -- actually, he might prefer it right now, all things considered. But he can't help but let out another laugh at the question posed to him. Or, sort of a laugh. HE probably meant it to be one. "Little bit, yeah." The way he shifts subtly in his seat may hint that he may be having some very specific nostalgia for that time right now. Then: "We there yet?" Again, it was probably meant to be a joke, but it's far too truthful to land that way.

"Just about," Razi murmurs, his eyes still turned out the window as he takes stock of their progress. And then, soon enough, they are indeed there. He pays the taxi driver with swift efficiency before stepping out. The greystone is the exact same as the last time Javi saw it, and Razi's step up to the door is purposefully, actively contained to a normal gait with no sign of rush. He has them inside in just another moment or two, lights flipped on, and shoes carefully worked off. "Would you like a drink?" he asks, polite and host-ly, as if this is a totally normal, friendly visit.

It takes Javi a second to get out, but luckily not longer than it takes Razi to pay the cab. He's ready once they start up toward the townhouse, and he matches his steps to the other man's -- though still with some effort. He also manages to take off his shoes once they're inside, because this is a shoes off place and he's not an animal, but he won't go so far as to wait for anything else. He's done what he can.

"Fuck no." And then, he's reaching for Razi's jacked and pulling him down into another kiss that's //not// appropriate for outside in any way, now that he can.

Razi doesn't even really have time to laugh at Javi's reply. He's too swiftly being pulled into that kiss, and soon enough he's /responding/.

Javi has seen all the evidence of Razi as a creature of restraint and control, and it's not as if he runs wild at one touch. But when he presses into that kiss, there is the sensation of there not being /stillness/ within him, but instead something hot and active and /turbulent/ at his core that he merely keeps in check. He's not a mountain; he's a dormant volcano.

His mouth is hot on Javi's as he angles him against the wall, not even making it past the entryway. His hands drag up his body to frame his face, along his neck, tracing the journey with those long, graceful fingertips. He explores his mouth with the sort of focused thoroughness that he brings to every aspect of his life, as is he might be able to memorize every inch of him that he touches with lips and fingers.

Javi lets out a little gasp when his back is suddenly pressing against the wall, and the sense of what he'd said he wanted to see of the other man is now coming at him as clear as a bell. He's not //surprised// by it, exactly, but the strength of it is perhaps a little unexpected. But it does not deter him. On the contrary, after a moment to adjust he seems to revel in it, desire and delighted anticipation and just a //little// thrill of something else coming off him in waves as he meets the kiss with his own sort of intensity. Much more chaotic than Razi's, but with no less feeling.

his hands begin to move, too, and while he's also taking the opportunity to touch as much as he can, he's purposeful, too. Loosening the tie a little more, undoing the top button of his shirt. Sliding his hands down to pull on it so it comes untucked. But it is not to hurry to any 'main event' -- no, now that he is being explored in this //very// thorough way he has no intention of rushing them through it. He doesn't actually seem to be trying to truly undress him yet. He just wants to mess him up. Mostly, anyway. His hands do eventually slide underneath to find skin, and when they do another sound escapes him, somewhere between another gasp and a groan.

There's a shiver, a prick to Razi's skin, when he feels Javi's hands against his skin; he doesn't groan as of yet, but there is a soft but audible inhalation of breath. Bit by bit, he is mussed from the clean, tailored lines he is so generally armored in. In this moment, though, he hardly seems to mind. His mouth finally breaks from Javi's, but only so he can draw his lips slow and warm along his jaw, and then his neck. Under his ear. "I want to hear you make that sound again," he murmurs against his skin. He finally draws back, eyes sweeping over Javi's face, his thumb grazing under his mouth and along his chin. The curve of his smile is subtle, but potent, and then his hand skims down Javi's frame to finally find his hand and twine his fingers through. "My room's upstairs," he says, voice low and warm, and then he starts to lead the way.

It has been...a bit of an evening. As if often the way of these things, with two people exploring each other for the first time. Razi is a difficult one to unwind completely, to bring completely and entirely undone; there is a level of control that clings tight inside of him. But there is also a fire, a heat and passion that stokes urgently. He has taken a ruthlessly methodical approach to Javi's pleasure in a hunt to discover just how many releases he can wring out of him. But, in turn, by the end of matters his chest is heaving for breath, his skin dappled with sweat, as his fingers tighten and ease reflexively at Javi's hips and thighs.

"Fuck," he mumbles, drawing one hand away just to push back the mess of his hair.

Razi was ultimately able to draw plenty of them from Javi. He is unsurprisingly a lot less tightly controlled about this, as he is about everything, and while it may not have always been //difficult// to get him to any of a wide variety sounds in response, if that's the sort of thing that gratifies him then Razi can certainly be sure of his success. However, despite a fair amount of letting go, there were certainly moments where Javi might have been trying to exert a //little// control of the situation, either attempting to elicit the reactions that he enjoys so much, figuring out what the other man likes (which also seems to be pretty important for him) -- or sometimes almost like he's so overwhelmed by it that he needs to regulate himself a little bit, even if he might not have been able to articulate that if asked.

Now, though, even his energy seems to have been mostly exhausted, and he's quite content to lie there and catch his breath. Mostly. "'No guarantees of performance,' huh," he remarks, amusement evident even if his tone still hasn't recovered. "Miss me with that bullshit." He turns his head enough to press a kiss to Razi's jaw, before he shifts with one more little sigh, quiet but undeniably pleased, to end up still half-on top of him but half on the side with his arm draped across Razi's chest.

Razi exhales a quiet breath, akin to an exhausted laugh, in reply to that particular comment. "Well," he says, his voice lower and rougher now after all of that exertion. His hand drags along Javi's flank with idle appreciation. "I don't think I was /really/ trying to make some sort of commentary on my abilities in the bedroom. That would be a bit uncouth." A beat of silence. "But thank you." His fingertips stroke lightly along Javi's back and hip, tracing the lines of him in a thoughtless pattern. He closes his eyes a moment, breathing in deep and slow now as his body continues to ease back from that high.

"Yeah," Javi agrees, lifting his head up to look at Razi with wide eyes -- exaggeratedly so, really, and with his lips twitching in that way that clearly means he's holding back a laugh, "you'd never get caught saying anything inappropriate." Which, of course, is true as far as he knows, even if he's also teasing him with it. His expression softens a moment later, though, the amusement ebbing from his smile and leaving it merely sweet. Really //too// sweet for a lot of the situations he seems to find himself in, but he can't help how his face looks. There's another tiny sigh in response to the touch, and he lifts his hand to bring it up toward Razi's face, fingertips brushing across his cheek gently.

"I don't know that I've /never/ said anything inappropriate," Razi says, his voice rumbling low in his chest. His thumb reaches to trace along the ridge of Javi's brow bone before drifting his fingertips into the curly muss of his hair. "But I suppose I am very deliberate with my words. It is--" He pauses a moment there, hesitating on a certain thought. "It is a habit of a few things, really. My profession is one of them, naturally."

The laugh that escapes Javi at Razi's first comment is still a little breathless, and he doesn't argue. He's busy enjoying the //after//, anyway. He tilts his head a little toward Razi's hand in his hair as his smile pulls a little wider, the movement a lot less sharp right now than anything similar might be in another moment. "Yeah," he replies more seriously as his fingers draw down gently across Razi's jaw, "makes sense. Lawyering." Okay, not //that// seriously, but perhaps more so when he adds, "I know about bargains and stuff. Gotta be careful what you say sometimes to certain people."

"Do you?" There's a touch of surprise, languid as it is, in Razi's voice there; his hand drifts from Javi's hair to crook a finger under his chin such that he might better examine his features. "That's true, yes. The magic of the place we were taken to is very...particular about such things. For some, careless words is how they were taken in the first place."

"Yeah. I do." Like many things of this nature he ends up saying, Javi doesn't actually explain //how// -- but since he does have at least one apparently close Lost friend, maybe he's just been told about it. He takes the opportunity of being studied to do some studying of his own right back, and his smile fades as the movements of his hand against Razi's skin become a little more distracted, though they don't stop completely. "Guess it'd probably make you keep it up pretty good after, too."

Razi falls silent for a long moment as his thumb continues that tracing memorization of Javi's face. "Indeed," he finally says, voice a softer murmur. There is much he doesn't say, that much is clear in the dark of his eyes. His hand drifts away then, fingertips grazing along Javi's shoulder before they settle in stillness on his own stomach. "Do you know this isn't entirely what I look like?"

Javi doesn't try to break the silence, but that distraction is still there. He's listening, and touching, but at least part of his attention seems to be focused on all those things that //aren't// actually said. He's at least present enough to hear the question, though. "Mm hmm," he confirms. "I know that, too." He does not ask to //see// -- very specifically doesn't, even though it's pretty clear he wants to. He just lets his hand trail down across Razi's chest to settle on top of the other man's. It stills there, but keeps the contact. "I just look like this," he offers after another moment, as if this was in question, though his smile returns as he says it, as if in an attempt to lighten things a little bit.

Razi's smile draws faint to his lips at Javi's offer. "I had assumed so, although perhaps I shouldn't have. There are many things about the world I don't know, after all." There's a beat, a consideration, before he adds, "Although you also tend to know more than I expect." He exhales a quiet breath, and then something seems to suddenly occur to him. It's a moment before he can bring himself to ask, though. "Where -- has your brother been tonight?" Awk.

"I pick things up here and there," Javi says, of his perhaps surprising knowledge. "Tryna kinda keep track of everything." He might have said more about it, too, but Razi's question has his eyebrows shooting up, and a second later he lets out a laugh. "He wasn't in the corner watching us fuck," he assures him, in the //extra// blunt way he seems to have sometimes when he's trying to get a little reaction from the other man. Not that he's not normally, but there are certainly degrees. "He always knows where I am," he continues, again a little more seriously. "And he can't really go that far on his own. But he don't have to be, like, //right there// all the time. He's probably outside in the hall."

Razi gives a little scoff of breath that might be a /touch/ self-conscious at Javi's /bluntness/. "Well I didn't think--" he starts to say, and then thinks better of it. HE CAN RECOGNIZE SOMEONE TRYING TO BAIT HIM, JAVI. Most of the time. Instead of lingering on that /specific/ point, he eases back into sobriety and says, "That must be difficult. For both of you."

Javi can't help it -- he laughs, both in response to Razi's initial reaction and the moment where the other man catches himself and doesn't give more of one than he already has. He nods, as if conceding his part in it, and he doesn't press it further. Instead, he returns to his own sort of seriousness.

"Yeah," he says, "it's tough sometimes." He falls quiet for another beat, his eyes searching Razi's like he's weighing some decision, before he eventually decides to continue. "It's kinda weird between us now," he admits. "Not, like, //right// now," he amends. "But lately." He finally looks away, his gaze settling on their hands instead. "'Cause he was always the one who was gonna be somebody. He was the smart one. I was kind of a fuck-up."

There's a certain /quality/ to Razi's various silences, and this one has the thoughtfulness of someone planning his words. (It is, in reality, the most common. He is more likely to pause before beginning rather than stop or hesitate in the midst of a thought.) "You said you were fifteen," he finally says, recalling the exchange they had before. "That is very young for anyone to have decided you were going to be a fuck-up."

"Well, you know. When you're always fucking up it's kinda obvious." It's not exactly harsh -- not particularly bitter. Just wry, and unlike Razi, out before he really thinks about it. He does let out a huff a moment later, though, and he drops his head to rest it on the other man's shoulder. "Just, like, travieso," he continues, more normally. "You know what that means? Like getting into shit. Touching stuff. Like that. Didn't do great in school 'cause I can't really sit still for that long and I don't really read that good. I can //read//," he adds quickly, "it's just slow. Probably got something going on with it but my parents weren't really gonna, like...follow up with shit like that." He shrugs. "Anyway. But he was real smart. He never made me feel bad about it or nothing, he helped me out a lot. But you know. Now I got my life going pretty good and it's probably tough to have to hang around all the time."

From the subtle shift of Razi's expression, he /doesn't/ know Spanish or the word in particular, but Javi is already explaining for him. As Javi settles against his shoulder, Razi looks down at him a moment, and then his gaze drifts up to the ceiling as he listens to him. His arm settles a bit about Javi, such that his fingertips can glide along his back or in his hair as he pleases. "There's a great deal of difference between excelling in school and being intelligent," he says in a low voice. "Doing well academically is a skill in and of itself. It is built towards certain types of people, and so they are the ones who thrive. But 'intelligence' is not the real metric of any of it." He quiets a moment as his fingers drift along Javi's shoulder. "You have struck me as a very sharp, very clever mind."

Any tension that might have been creeping in with the story is soothed by the touches against his back. Javi lets out a little sigh and settles, shifting only enough to lift his head and prop his chin against Razi's shoulder so he can look at him again, though not anywhere near enough to dislodge his hand. He's certainly listening, though whether he's truly internalizing it is anybody's guess.

"Maybe," he eventually allows at the end. It's not necessarily full agreement, but neither is it true //dis//agreement. He notes it, and files it away somewhere in his mind for later consideration. He does have to admit, "Sol says that, too." A beat, before he laughs and adds, "Actually he said it's annoying when I act like I'm the weakest link." He squints //just// slightly at the other man, but the smile doesn't fade. "Heard you guys saw each other the other day." The words are suddenly a little pointed, and the amusement is back.

"Solomon rarely has any compunction about speaking his mind," Razi says, a certain dry humor gracing his voice, but without any actual venom or dislike. One brow lifts just slightly, particularly at the /pointedness/ and /amusement/. "It's not all that rare for Solomon and I to see each other." And he cannot IMAGINE what would be so particularly special about any particular interaction.

"Uh huh." That is certainly true. Javi shifts, bringing his hands together to prop them underneath his chin so he can raise his head up a little before he stills again, still watching Razi. "Oh, sure," he replies. "I bet." Nothing special about that particular meeting at all, nope. "You talk about anything exciting?" he asks as his eyebrows raise and his head tilts a little to the side. As if he's actually curious. "Lost stuff?" Okay, maybe he's overselling it a bit now, but to be fair, he's not exactly //trying// to be subtle even if he could manage it.

"We generally do," Razi replies, and there is a familiar mildness now to his voice, a /refusal/ to be baited. He just sits back -- figuratively, at least, he's still laying down -- and makes it clear that Javi will have to /say the thing/ if he wants a reaction. "I believe we also spoke a bit about astronomy and science fiction; We were at a benefit at the planetarium."

"Sounds like fun," Javi replies. "Hope you had a good time." He quiets for a few moments, his eyes searching Razi's in silence, before he lets out a laugh. "You're fucking cute," he murmurs, half to himself and still amused, but it's not really meant to elicit a reply. It's acknowledgement, and he concedes a moment later to be the one who says the thing. "I know know how you knew it was him. Not that used to watching everything I say like that so that's my bad, but you probably woulda figured it out anyway." He takes a breath, letting it out slowly like he's steeling himself a little bit. "It's nice to know you wanna look out for me but I don't really want you going to my friends behind my back about it. Yeah?"

"It was an enjoyable enough event," Razi says without investment. He has no particular response to being called /cute/, either, apart from the slight hint of a smile tucked away in the corner of his mouth. But it fades soon enough when Javi goes and /steels himself/ for what's to come next. He is silent at first, and it bears an energy that is not exactly remorseful in the immediate. Finally, he says, "I was not 'going to your friend;' I was addressing an issue with someone between colleague and community member, since the opportunity presented itself. Solomon can be impulsive, and we had a difference of opinion in his approach of a situation centered on Lost business."

This may have been the reason for that little bit of bracing -- Javi doesn't seem at all surprised when Razi doesn't just say some variation of 'okay.' Still, he //does// at least listen to the explanation, even if it makes him shake his head. "That's bullshit," he says, "and you know it." He's still not exactly mad, but his tone has certainly lost most of its amusement. "It wasn't about Lost business. It was about him asking me to go. He didn't force me. It was my choice. I said yes. That's on me, not him. And don't act like you woulda done the same thing if it woulda been any other random human."

Hm. Razi's hand stills on Javi's skin at that. He /also/ doesn't exactly seem mad, but there's a sobriety to his features that's a bit at odds with casual physical affection. "The Hedge," he says, "is always Lost business. The reason Solomon was going /in/ to the Hedge was most certainly Lost business. I did not accuse him of forcing you, nor did I yell at him or make some sort of scene. I wanted to gauge how seriously he was taking the situation, and I got my answer." There's no deep breaths; no overt effort to contain a temper. Just mild implacability. He shifts a bit, easing out of the tangle they've ended up in and dragging himself to the edge of the bed. "I'd like a shower," he says. "After all that. You're welcome to join me, or wait, or use one of the others in the house, or just relax. Whatever you'd like." He rises then, dragging a hand through his hair.

Razi's reply has Javi's eyes widening a little bit again, but the quality of it is different. He doesn't try to argue this time, and especially not when he's suddenly alone in the bed. He //does// open his mouth, but seems to think better of it and closes it again, shaking his head a little bit, but mostly to himself. "Okay. I got it." He pauses, then sits up, too, shifting to the edge of the bed so he can stand as well. Another slight hesitation, before he reaches a hand up to touch Razi's shoulder. It doesn't linger this time, though, before it drops again. However, he does add, "I'll come. Could probably use one, too." There's no particular joke or flirtation about it this time -- but he does smile, and lets the other man lead the way.