A Drink Before Battle [MxM] ✅

3: Mind If I Join You?

3: Mind If I Join You?

As Sevei crossed the darkened room, he passed by a table with its curtains open wide and a number of candles on the tabletop within. The patron inside the booth reclined with his arms spread across the back of the wide bench, his head tilted back, a rapt expression on his face. A puddle of bright blue silk spilled out from under the table, flowing about with the movements of the young man kneeling there. The patron caught Sevei's eye, and his open lips widened into a sly grin.

Some clearly didn't mind being seen.

To each his own, Sevei thought to himself, pulling his gaze away hurriedly, then slowing his pace to calm himself before reaching his destination. Such exhibitionism was not his usual cup of tea, but he couldn't deny that the sight had been... stimulating. It really had been a long time.

Upon reaching the table near the stage, he paused at the edge of the sheer curtains and peered through them at the occupant. His face was turned toward the musicians, his broad-shouldered body swaying in time with their music. With a clearing of his throat, Sevei stepped around the curtain and set a wine carafe and two silver goblets down on the table.

"Would you mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice low and gentled.

The man turned his head sharply into the light of the single candle on his table.

Sevei gasped as he met with two eyes of such a brilliant and deep green that they appeared to be two actual emeralds, faceted and sparkling in the flickering candlelight.

He was mesmerized. He'd seen green eyes before, but none like these. He found it difficult to stop staring into them to take in the rest of the man.

Those eyes were narrowed on him with a compelling intensity, framed with boldly arched eyebrows, furrowed in confusion. The rest of his face seemed to be chiseled out of marble – sharp cheekbones, full lips pulled into a firm frown above an unyielding jawline, a slim nose that looked as if it might have been broken once or twice but then expertly set, perhaps only a few years younger than Sevei's thirty-one.

Kyrzhan had been right – he was beautiful.

He peered past Sevei back toward the host's table. When he spoke, his deep voice betrayed a hesitance incongruent with his stalwart appearance.

"Aren't you... with Mister Damah?"

Sevei smiled broadly.

"Not in that manner," he said, his smile reaching his voice. "He thought I might like to meet you." Sevei gave the man an overtly appreciative look-over. "I think he may have been right about that."

The man's gaze returned to Sevei, visibly appraising in turn. "Do you... work here?" he asked.

"Oh, no!" Sevei laughed lightly. "Just a friend of the house. Kyri – Mister Damah – and I go way back. I like to look in on him when I'm in town. Make sure he's still living well."

The man's rigid expression melted a bit, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, shifting over slightly in his seat. Sevei sat down and peered over into his cup, sniffing the air above it reprovingly.

"I know that even the cheap beer here is decent," he said, "but do try some of this instead." He picked up the wine carafe he'd brought along and filled each of the goblets halfway, pushing one across the table. "This is a prime Thalesian vintage. Not too strong, but the flavor is amazing. I don't really know wine, though, so... at your peril."