Smiling faintly, Loras inched his cocktail high enough for Renly to see he was quite alright for now, and intended to nurse on it for a bit. As tasty as the cosmopolitan was - and it really was; any other night and Loras would've happily downed girly concoction in record time - he didn't want to be so inebriated that he missed even the tiniest detail of their outing. (Lesson learned at La Cage; when he’d been too caught up in the warm, delicious wave of pharmaceutical high to even notice Renly had been surreptitiously iPhone filming Jon and Robb getting their freak on.)
He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Especially when recent relationship red flag raised by the pretty young man with the even prettier head of raven black curls had prompted Loras to immediately seek out Renly online for just the right advice to give. He’d been rewarded for his efforts, and the memory of fabulous, mind-blowing sexscapade still burned in his mind and never failed to set the butterflies fluttering deep in his belly each and every time he thought about it.
Indeed it prompted Loras to turn slightly, so he might again gaze fully at Renly; take in every subtle nuance along jaw, cheek and cleft of chin. Marvel at the way lover’s eyes, heavy-lidded from drink still sparkled with hidden amusements. Movements turned achingly languid but still so uncannily fluent Renly almost seemed not of this earth. As if mere gravity was inconsequential. And those first three buttonholes of expensive designer dress shirt left open to showcase neatly manscaped chest hairs had Loras swallowing down the sudden influx of saliva that filled his mouth.
Was he hooked? Without question. For Renly Baratheon was that incredibly rare mix of raw manliness and intelligence wrapped in a stunningly handsome package. There truly weren’t enough adjectives in the English language to properly pin to this man. Loras had given up trying long ago, content instead to bask in perpetual moonlight glow that surrounded Renly.
Still very much basking, Loras’ smile broadened, became coy when he ventured to ask, “So Renly tells me you lovely boys are taking a trip? To Catalina, no?”
The question was posed to either man, but he hoped Jon would be the one to take conversational baton and run with it. He wouldn’t deny he much preferred hearing a cultured English accent over… whatever you called the generally garbled mess that tumbled from Robb’s lips. Having been born abroad, Loras possessed a knack for languages; wouldn’t deny Jon’s gin-soaked ramblings raised the hairs on his arms, nor lured him into an almost hypnotic state.