waeteeth:
“Really? In this day an’ age?” He couldn’t find it in himself to be anything but a little intrigued. An artisan in Greece of all places, how….Strangely romantic? Jamie wasn’t quite sure if that was the right way to phrase it. Or if he even cared about it. However he did know he liked a man who worked with his hands in general, was a telltale sign they knew how to use them.
Down boy.
There wasn’t really a smell to him, which didn’t mean he wasn’t just a human, Jamie knew better by now. Still, woodworking felt like such a lost art, something he didn’t see too often anymore. If he’d have been in a mood to dwell on his past, he’d maybe have thought back to seeing his father whittle something out of an oak branch while they attended the stables at the estate. But he wasn’t too keen on that anymore, would tolerate a flash here and there, but that was it. “Ye a local then? Or sell those wares fae place tae place?”
A gentle head nod at the question as the bartender brought Silas his drink, placing it on a black coaster not too far from his hand. He moved to grip it, a tinge of butterflies throughout his insides as the man placed interest in his occupation, bringing the cocktail to his lips in hopes that it would relieve his own tension. It wasn’t often that he was interested in another without it being his dinner and the cubi’s obsidian hues lit up faintly at discussing his work.
“Local now,” he stated after clearing his throat, liquor burning its way down his esophagus as it planted into his empty stomach and felt the warmth take him, “Just a few years, shop on the main street. Though I have done some place to place,” the accent was still a bit rough on the cubi’s ears, but he could place enough to get the message. Silas honestly couldn’t even fully place it, just knowing the brunette had to be from some United Kingdom attached area— right? “Bit difficult to manage,” he spoke over the sudden change in music, club seeming to get louder as they sat inches apart at the bar-top.
waeteeth:
“Sorry ‘boot that, probably didnae hear the notification over the noise.” Alright, game on, he wasn’t going to have to fend anyone off. Granted, he supposed he could always just take her out around the alley outside for a bite, she wouldn’t have needed much persuading with how she’d been borderline clinging to him. Jamie had some faith in this stranger to be interesting enough to make up for the loss. Hand kind of hovering against the stranger’s lower back, he ushered them through the small crowd to get to the bar where he promptly perched himself on an empty seat. The moment the bartender was within earshot, he was calling to him. “Whiskey sour, throw in a splash of red wine. And then whatever my dear friend here desires.” Elbows on the bar and fingers laced together, he shot the stranger a knowing smirk.
Now that he really got a chance to look at him beyond just yanking him from the crowd of people, he realized he was actually pretty attractive. There was a warmth about him, something about his eyes. Smelled nice, too. This night was definitely shaping up to be better already. The moment the bartender scurried off, he was resting his chin on his hands, completely enthralled in his new companion. “So what do ye do that ye smell so damn lovely? Didnae know they made a cologne that’s basically sawdust.”
Not as though this was the first time Silas had been in a similar situation, but typically being used as a scapegoat didn’t require him to continue the skit that long after the departure. Most would just thank him before both going their separate way or depending, the cubi might get a little snack and never see them again. It was all about the circumstances. Which, in truth, he did not someone such as the man in front of him to actually take interest in anything that had to do with Silas himself. People and creatures were full of surprises, not able to get a full read on what exactly the cubi was dealing with. A hunter, perhaps? But most of the time there was at least a different kind of— well, almost scent and that’s not what Silas was grabbing here.
He allowed the stranger to lead him towards the bar with the same grin as before, finding a seat next to him and ordering his own drink, “Seoul Mule, light ice.” Quick and to the point, obsidian hues floating from the bartender to the man that brought him over. Eyes were crystal blue to the point that they were almost haunting, eagerness that Silas hadn’t noticed until the moment they got cozy at the bar top. A chuckle fell from the cubi’s lips, leaning back slightly and brushing off his shirt. “Must still have bits on me,” he replied, looking down to see if anything was noticeable, “I do a lot of woodworking.”
waeteeth:
“There ye are, thought ye’d never show up.” Normally Jamie didn’t really have a problem telling people to fuck off, but it was too early in the night to start anything. The woman who’d been chatting him up at the bar, he’d completely ignored her to sidle up to a stranger who’d just walked through the bar. A stranger who smelled of sawdust and amber, something smooth and sweet. Interesting enough to keep around for the moment if he didn’t completely scare him off. Which wouldn’t be completely unreasonable, he would be beyond miffed if someone had pulled the same thing on him. Unless-
“Play along for fifteen minutes an’ I’ll buy ye literally whatever ye want.” @silaskyun
The night had really only just started for the young cubi when the dark haired man slid up next to him. Typically it would be Gabriel, ready to get him into another round of trouble, but the accent didn’t match. Well, actually height had seemed to be the only thing that matched as Silas’ charcoals caught the strangers seafoam hues. Younger and carried an energy about him that screamed disorderly. Along with the accent— a sound that Silas hadn’t spent much time around and he racked his brain on where to place it. Irish, maybe? The United Kingdom area seemed to be on the right track as his eyes scanned him before catching eye on a tattoo around their collarbone. “Fine,” he agreed as he put on a smile and acted as though he had known this stranger for years, “Sorry, ran a little late tonight. You must not have gotten my text.”