'They're kind of both my home,' rang in Luc's ears once the words had left Joaquin's lips - and he found his gaze lingering there maybe a little too long, but again, King of Quick Recovery. He liked that this guy was so passionate about what he did. And he found it strangely touching, the sentiment of it all. It was really difficult for him to retain that game face with how badly he wanted to smile just then.
Honestly, there was little else Luc found nothing more attractive in the world than a person who was passionate - truly passionate - about some form of art. Those kinds of artists had always been his weakness, he guessed - after all, that's how Nate had been with dancing. Up until he couldn't dance anymore - and even afterwards, with all the dance-themed movies they watched once he'd become bedridden (more titles than Luc could even begin to recount). It made Luc pause briefly to wonder why he'd even thought of Nate just then; aside from the other man's dark hair, there was no resemblence whatsoever. Luc could already tell that Joaquin was absolutely nothing like Nate in any sense. Which almost made it strange that Nate even popped in his head just then, except for the fact that he still tended to do that.
He raked a hand a through his blonde hair, knocking the strands away from his eyes as he made the appearance of scrutinizing the landscape. It was beautiful too - though he liked the other one better - and he could find a place for it if he tried (though it didn't really go with any of his decor). Maybe he'd give it as a gift to someone. Who knew. He was getting it though, no doubt.
"This one's nice too," he remarked offhandedly, playing the Cool Hand Lu(c) card as he plucked a scotch-covered ice cube from his glass. "I liked the other one better, but this is still lovely." He smiled as he popped the cube into his mouth, crushing it with his teeth for a second as he let his eyes flick to Joaquin at his side. "You've got quite an eye for scenery, I must say. You get the right people behind you and you could really go places, y'know." It wasn't a lie in the least - because it was really all about who you knew. The talent was there, but he'd still have to have someone to fund it.
"I'd like to make you an offer, if you're so inclined," he said cryptically, and he couldn't help the evil cackle he found himself internalizing. Because his plot was thickening. It sounded dirtier than it actually was, though that probably had to do with the scotch.. He casually stepped off towards the bar again, as he was definitely going to need another refill to keep this up. One more for the road and all. "A bit of a private endeavor, if you will. If you find my terms acceptable, of course. But.. if you're just here to sell a painting or two, though.. I.. don't know if I can help you."
Wow, way to sound like a douche, Haust. Granted, he was near to dying inside because this was all just part of his little head game - and he really felt compelled to apologize for even letting that come out. He hated seeming like an asshole, but this was all part of the training - he just hoped Joaquin was gonna keep playing ball. Poor guy.