Re: [Gunster Dinner]
Adrian didn't know he was a horror movie, but he looked between Connie and Patrick as if expecting a stronger reaction than he recieved. He was relieved when he didn't. He wasn't sure why, but he expected to disappoint people. He didn't lack self-worth for his accomplishments, but he expected his presence to underwhelm.
Patrick's openness was a change, and a lift, and he couldn't help a smile, ducking his head as if no one should see it. "I apologize for being heteronormative," he said. It was sometimes difficult to tell whether or not he was joking, but it seemed to be one. The clap on the hand was very masculine, very brotherly and correct, not the sort of interaction Adrian really had with anyone on a regular basis. He was totally unsure of the correct response, so he improvised, hugging partially back, passing off the beer, and watching the flurry of Patrick sweeping back into the kitchen on the wings of a run-on sentence. "You two science?" he asked, quietly, to Patrick's back. "Do we need a bunsen burner for that?"
Adrian slid through the door as if trying to take up the least amount of space possible. "Sorry," he said, smiling, to Connie. "They're strong, if it helps. Wish I'd known the rules." He felt as if the weight on his back had cracked and slid away. You could never know how people would change, or how they would take you. These two were as open and warm as always.
He followed Connie into the dining room, hesitating before choosing his seat, since it seemed as if they had predetermined places. When Connie mentioned Newt his gaze popped up. "He is," he said, with a warmth that was unmistakable. Newt was probably the most sane and level person he knew, which most people who met him would not, he thought, believe. "I like the smelly Gunsters," he protested. "It smells wonderful in here, to start."