Roman (touchofsilver) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-01-20 18:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | complete, roman etana ka'uhane, zjames byrne |
Good Old Fashioned Dinner
When responding to the post about needing a dog walker Roman hadn’t imagined it would result in a flirtatious exchange before a formal invitation to dinner in order to have the best of both worlds. He definitely was not complaining, not when it was clear that he was going to get fed and fed well if the comments from James were any indication.
He had asked if he should bring anything with him but he’d been told to just bring himself and well his ass but that was kind of package deal so all he had to do was rock up, look pretty, and make nice. Shouldn’t be too difficult given the exchange and might even be more fun in person because most things were. Roman wasn’t the best timekeeper out there so he might have been running a couple minutes late but that was impressive considering he’d once run an hour late to meet somebody else and boy had they never let him forget it. He raked his fingers through his hair as he rocked up outside of James’ front door before he just rapped his knuckles against it, tucking his ringed fingers into the back pockets of his jeans as he waited on a response. Of course the longer he stood there the more he became aware of all the delicious smells coming out of the house in question. James’ house wasn’t very big, but it was cosy. Kind of rustic, actually, with old furniture that had been secondhand but given a new chance at life, warm buttery light, even a claw-foot bathtub in the loo. But he had vibrant cushions and actual curtains, plants in the kitchen that meant the air was perfumed with whatever herb he was growing - he liked cilantro a lot, so that was often the star of the show. There was a dog bed for Prince and a cat tree for Cheeto, even if the fat orange thing liked to plant his bum imperiously on the window seat and watch what happened outside. And the delicious smells, well, chalk that up to James’ ability to make something simple - garlic herb spaghetti and chicken meatballs - and take it up a few notches (something he didn’t mind doing at all, hosting a dinner,, especially for someone who was going to probably help make sure Prince wasn’t all cooped up at home). Lots of spice and flavour, and even those veggies - but he wouldn’t tell Roman where they were. The challenge had been accepted. “Hey mate, come on in,” was his greeting when he answered the door, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt; it wasn’t long-sleeved, so the tattoo on his arm was visible and the heat he generated when cooking meant he didn’t need something long-sleeved anyway. “So you brought yourself and your bum, I see.” Grand. Roman gave a hearty chuckle at the comment from James and smirked as he stepped over the threshold and shrugged out of his jacket to expose his own tattoos along his arms. “Well, seeing as it was the only thing you asked for didn’t seem right to leave it at home.” He grinned a moment later. “Plus y’know it’s kinda attached to me.” He glanced around to get a feel for James’ home and then spotted what looked like a very fat orange cat perched on the nearby window and he had to admire its ability to balance there when it looked very much like gravity might work against it. “Got a cat and a dog? I like it.” James took Roman’s jacket, hanging it up on a hook by the door. “Aye, got both,” he nodded - and speak of the devil, here came the canine. Prince, a dopey sort of spanador, click-clacked into the room with excited steps taken on paws against the hardwood; he even danced on those paws a bit (chasing his own tail excitedly, really), giving their newest visitor a sniff. Snuff, snuff, snuff. He must have approved, because he was already set to play. “Prince, honestly,” James chuckled. But he’d just let them get acquainted, as he showed Roman into the living room. “The cat was actually a going away present from the witch coven I knew in Brooklyn. His previous owner was one of my friends but she couldn’t keep him anymore - so I took him with me. He’s quite the shit, as cats are.” But James was fond of him anyway. And he didn’t care that witches or magic users in general bristled at dogs, and vice versa (he’d heard that more than once) - he never had, and Prince never balked at him. As far as he was concerned, if a dog didn’t like you? There was probably good reason for it. They were incredible at judging character; they had their furry ways. “Well, what can I get you to drink?” he asked his guest. “I’ve got, hm, pretty much everything.” Roman turned his head as Prince made his presence known and a slow warm smile spread across his features because if there was one thing Roman loved more than anything it was animals. "Hey there, buddy," he said as he crouched down to rub his large hands over Prince's ear. "Aren't you a handsome boy?" He chuckled as Prince licked not just his hands but helped himself to a good old taste of Roman's face. "You got any beer or whiskey?" He asked as he finally peeled himself away from fussing Prince to go give Cheeto the same amount of attention as Roman was all about equality when it came to animals. It was one of the many reasons his hoard was made up of animals of all different shapes, sizes, kinds and ages. He smiled as Cheeto purred and rubbed his face along his fingers in an attempt at scenting which was kind of adorable really. Now, Cheeto didn’t really warm up to guests right away - he often preferred to observe first rather than seek out affection. Whenever he did dole out affection, it was on his terms. So to hear him purring in a pleased rumble of thunder and marking a new person as his was quite amusing to James. That just meant he clearly made a good choice in the dogwalking department. “You must be charming, to win over such a difficult feline. But alright, beer or whiskey - I’ve got both of those too,” he winked, and opened the fridge since beer seemed like a good place to start. He cracked open two bottles and passed one to Roman (nothing cheap or tasting like skunk, thank you). All he had to do was drain the pasta and put everything on plates - and he’d made that pasta too, from scratch; it wasn’t difficult. Fresh pasta was actually one of the more simpler things to do in the kitchen. He gave the sauce, simmering on the stove, a good stir. “You work at the diner too, don’t you?” The image in his head made sense, for some reason. “In addition to guarding the bridge, I mean.” Roman grinned in response to the wink. “I’m liking you more and more by the second.” He took the beer and clinked his bottle against James’ before tipping it to his lips where in three short swallows he drained almost all of it though he did stop himself from going the whole way because Luke has said something about “manners”. He nodded and moved around the kitchen to brace his hip against a nearby counter top and glance at the sauce as it simmered. It looked and smelt good. “You’ve clearly been paying attention,” he teased with a wink. “But yeah I do both those things.” It meant he didn’t really cook at home if he could get away with it because he spent all day doing it and it wasn’t his passion. “And for the record,” he murmured as he picked up his bottle and extended a long finger in James’ direction, “I can be very charming when I want to be.” And with a grin not too dissimilar from a predator he finished off his beer with ease. For James, cooking was his passion - and it showed. He supposed that Auntie had been right, it was a Hob thing - passed down from generation to generation, and he hadn’t even realised. Hadn’t known what was mixed into his blood. But he could see how ‘work’ and ‘fun’ were separate concepts for others. To be honest, while he enjoyed the breakneck pace of the kitchen at Veritas, sometimes, nothing beat his own kitchen and taking his time with a meal. It was relaxing to him, in a way. “I’ve no doubt that you can be,” he chuckled, a flash of shark’s teeth when he smiled. And this charming fellow could go through beer quickly, it was impressive - good thing James had stopped at the liquor store and got a whole bloody case beforehand. “How does such a small town handle this charm?” The pasta was drained, mixed in with sauce; it was a light sauce, and fragrant because it was mostly garlic. And other fresh herbs. “Don’t worry, the green stuff is basil,” James assured, doling out portions on two plates. Pasta was hearty and since Roman already said he ate a lot, there was certainly enough to last. “And if you’d like, grab another beer from the fridge.” Had his narrowed eyes been so obviously full of suspicion as James served up the food? Apparently so. He did have a pretty expressive face after all. He smirked and lifted his shoulders into a “I have no idea” kind of shrug when posed the question of how such a small town handled his charm. “I get bored easily,” he followed up with with a chuckle before turning on the heel of his boot to wander over in the direction of the fridge. The fridge which on most people was at a good height but for Roman required him to bend and reach in to grab another beer. “Thanks, I probably should’ve mentioned I can also go through drink like nobody’s business.” He would return the favour one day as Roman may be a dragon but he also knew a thing or two about returning favours. He cracked open the bottle and took another sip. “Get bored easily, do you? I suppose I can understand that.” Especially in this small town - it had the tendency to become stagnant very quickly, but then again, even James could tell that a few new things were beginning to percolate. “Who knows, mate, perhaps one day you’ll find something that sticks.” Honestly, it was a good thing Roman was drinking the booze - otherwise it would be tempting for James to finish that case himself, and that was the last thing he needed to do. Drowning himself in the drink wouldn’t solve whatever was going on in his head, nor in his heart. Settling at the table with his own beer, he pushed Roman’s chair out for him. “I’m glad you and Prince seem to have taken a liking to each other though,” he had to laugh a little at the spanador, who came into the dining room to investigate. And probably beg for scraps. “He’ll be glad to have someone to talk him on a nice long walk so he can find sticks and chase squirrels to his heart’s content.” Plus, Roman was trustworthy in the sense that James could leave the spare key to the house with him and not feel like he’d have half his shit missing when he returned. Roman gave a small snort as James suggested that something might stick one of these days but in all his years he had yet to find something save for his hoard and well sex that managed to keep him entertained for very long. “Does sex count?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow in James’ direction. “Because if it does then that definitely helps keep me entertained.” Some more than others and he might not be a gentleman in the strictest of senses but he did believe in respecting the people he shared his bed with. He turned his head as Prince joined them in the kitchen and the dragon leaned over to stroke Prince and fuss with the scruff of his neck before he offered James a smile. “You can count on that. I got a fair amount of my own that love a good walk so I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” Roman took another couple pulls from his beer before resting it down on the table as he shifted to make himself more comfortable at the table. Ah, a fellow after his own heart! “Why, certainly it counts - the ol’ naked tango, I mean,” James chuckled. Not too long ago, that had been him as well - he didn’t really want to settle with one person, but then sort of felt inspired to for some reason. Not everyone would feel that pull, however. “I imagine you can have your pick of the town’s denizens and beyond.” Because honestly. Look at him - Roman was quite pretty. Aesthetically pleasing. All of that. Not to mention good with animals. “That sounds grand. Prince likes to socialise with other dogs, though there’s not exactly a dog park here, so...” Just a regular park, and he’d take the spanador when he could, tossing a ball for him, but he probably wasn’t as entertaining as more in a pack would be. “I can just leave the spare house key with you?” he suggested, twirling some pasta around his fork. “Feel free to pick up Prince and drop him off, or use the shower as you see fit.” Ha. Random quip, but a nice visual, wasn’t it? Roman picked up a fork and stuck it right into the middle of the pasta, using the prongs to help himself to an ample serving of the food cooked for him but he did regard it warily as he knew James had accepted his challenge around vegetables. Not that it stopped him from eating it because honestly there were precious few things in this world that could stop Roman from eating. “Mmhm,” he murmured as he had at that precise moment a rather mouthful of pasta. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want to break in here, kinda defeats the purpose.” Of course the mention of the shower did draw an arch of his scarred eyebrow and he simply snorted. “I’ll try not to wander around your place naked but no promises.” It was a real risk, it really was. “Good lord,” James coughed, glad he didn’t let a mouthful of beer slosh down the wrong pipe. But he was just overcome with how pleasing those images were. “If you do, at least take a photo or two.” It was only polite, after all. Yes, Roman, enjoy those sneak vegetables - they were cleverly hidden, and James was rather proud of his efforts. He had skills. “How is it?” he asked, referring to the carbs and meat - or maybe there weren’t vegetables at all. Maybe? Hmmmm? Perhaps it was all a fun psychological game (no, it wasn’t, there were vegetables - but the pea was tucked far, far away from the princess, like it was magic almost). Roman chuckled at James’ reaction to the prospect of him wandering around naked. Wouldn’t be the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last time. It wasn’t that Roman hated clothes but more he felt comfortable without them, it was just the way that he was. “Maybe just maybe if you’re really lucky I’ll send some moving footage,” he returned with a grin. His eyes did however narrow in suspicion as James oh so casually asked how it was. “It’s good, really good. Better than anything I can cook that’s for sure but I’m still thinking you snuck vegetables in here.” Dragons did have a nose for magic after all. James would take ‘good, really good.’ He grinned slyly - though it was an actual smile, not the ‘entertained contempt’ he was often prone to expressing. “I might have,” he admitted, but he wasn’t about to say where. Or how. (It really wasn’t that difficult, the onions and zucchini and yellow squash were just so finely chopped - by an expert hand - that they were near indiscernible when masked by all that meatball). “You’re a growing boy, Roman. It’s for your own good,” he winked, those acid blue eyes alight in amusement. “I’m glad you came over,” he tacked on at the end, because it was true. James didn’t get a lot of visitors, and he didn’t bring many people home. And the gladness hopefully softened the blow of veg consumption. Alas. “Hmph,” was the only sound Roman made in response to the prospect of vegetables being snuck into the sauce. He might be fairly old but he was not beyond a little stropping now and then especially when it came to vegetables. He sat back into his chair drawing what sounded like a very weary groan out of it as he did so though a quick glance at it reassured him he wasn’t about to break it. “Me too,” he admitted with a small smile. “Though I gotta ask how could I not after that fun exchange we had. I mean that’s gotta be the most fun I’ve had all week.” “Aye, can’t argue with you there,” James concurred. It was probably the most fun he had as well, flirting with such a stunning hunk of dragon. “If you’re up for fun some other time, don’t hesitate to give me a ring.” Not an actual ring - but, er, anyway. “Or a text.” He supposed he’d just see what happened, eh? Some more excitement in sleepy little Summerview wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. |