‘Dutiful host’ wasn’t a role that came to easy to Zacheus, but he was doing his level best. He was never comfortable being the center of attention, and if it wasn’t for the steady consumption of various alcoholic drinks over the course of the evening, there was a good chance he would’ve given to the anxiety prickling at the back of his mind and fled hours ago. But no, he drank, he greeted friends and strangers alike, he drank some more, he tried not suppress the skin-crawling anxiety that took hold of him while Ric did a rousing toast, he threw back another drink or three.
He had run into Drake a few times over the course of the evening, but the two hadn’t had a moment alone in some time. So when he spotted the monk alone by the bar, he seized the opportunity. The archer found himself wishing he possessed even a fraction of Ric’s confidence in these matters. He always made it seem so Faram-damned easy.
“Drake,” he began, his voice low, “could I have a word?”
Drake, who had been talking the lovely bartender into a free Garnet Dagger, turned around, smile at the ready. He’d been meaning to corner Zacheus all evening, if only to hand over the neatly wrapped package that had taken him three days to pick out. It hadn’t occurred to him that picking out the perfect gift would be so difficult, but it had really reinforced the knowledge that he didn’t know the archer nearly well enough to figure out what he’d like.
So he’d settled on a cookbook and some bowstrings.
He lifted the package off of the bar counter and held it out. “Anything for the birthday boy,” he replied with a wink.
“Oh!” The present was a surprise, somehow. “You didn’t have to—thank you.” Zacheus took the proffered package with a wide smile, vaguely wondering about its contents. But that could wait until later; there were more pressing matters to attend to. The package was placed on the bar, as was one steadying hand—Zacheus was feeling bolder, yes, but also considerably less sure on his feet. The archer’s other hand went to Drake’s shoulder, and he caught the monk’s eyes in a level gaze.
“Do you have plans after this?”
Well, this was a new development. Drake’s grin widened and he leaned in, just a little bit. “I don’t,” he said. “Why? Do you have any suggestions?” Previous experience told him that it was probably innocuous and innocent - Zacheus had always seemed flustered whenever Drake had attempted to be forward, so he was pretty sure that the archer wasn’t going to turn the tables on him.
Not that he wouldn’t like that, but.
“I do,” was Zacheus’ firm response, and he followed Drake’s lead and leaned forward. The hand on Drake’s shoulder drifted down to the collar of his shirt, then to the buttons. With an overly serious expression, he focused on working the third button down free (the first two were already unbuttoned, which he very much appreciated.) “I don’t have plans. Lille volunteered to look after things at home and—,” he paused, looking up from his task with a sheepish grin, “suggested I get a room for the night. Have some fun.”
She had also rattled off a couple different names along with that advice, including Drake’s. And while Zacheus had shrugged it off as teasing at the time, it now seemed like a perfectly sound idea. More than sound, really. The sheepish smile turned suggestive as his hand wandered down to the waistband of Drake’s trousers. “If you’re interested.”