defies_reason | ⚔ i thought we might have a little chat.

I might yet have found it amusing. [Even as hearsay he does.]. Were they to your tastes?

Several of them. I'm not completely incapable of appreciating an aesthetically pleasing individual.

[He raises an eyebrow slightly, gazing at Isaak, definitely finding him aesthetically pleasing.]

The amount of glitter I had to clean up, however, was less alluring.

[He doesn't react, but he does notice.]

It's a professional hazard.

Your venue doesn't seem nearly so inclined towards glitter.

[And his wouldn't be, if his employees weren't so... well... determined.]

I owned a chain of gentlemen's clubs at home.

[He settles his weight on the desk, one knee bent against the side, his palms on the flat surface behind him.]

Among other investments.

Other investments?

[Can he help his curiosity? Not really, not any more than he can help watching Isaak, and maybe now his gaze is more than just a little intent.]

Oh, this and that, [He answers idly.] A bit of international trade. Not much of interest. If I'm honest, it's rather a relief to turn my attention to a smaller scale.

International trade. Hmm.

[That really only means one thing where he comes from, and he has the distinct feeling that things can't be so very different in Isaak's time, but it would be rude to downright accuse the guy of being involved in anything shady.]

Doing things on a smaller scale does allow you more time to enjoy yourself.

[More than any shame or fear of stigma, Isaak doesn't talk about what he did at home because it bores him. Drugs and women made him rich, but it's been a long time since the thrill of flaunting the law has had an effect. At home, he'd had one thing to live for.]

And I do,

[he agrees, in a tone warm with amusement.]

Should I ask how you enjoy yourself, or should I guess?

[He can guess, at least to some extent. That doesn't mean he's above flirting, in his own strange way.]

I suspect you could come to an appropriate conclusion.

I suspect I could, but where's the fun in that?

Oh, I think there's quite a lot to be had.

[His voice is low and breathy, and at last he lets his gaze drop-- not to look away, but to look Meyer up and down.]

Are you suggesting something?

[There, finally, is the blush that he's known would show up at some point or another. Still, he doesn't look away, either.]

I thought you already had.

[How terribly incriminating.]

I suppose I did.

[Enough so that he's taking several steps closer to Isaak, at the very least.]

[Pleased, he lifts his chin a bit. Isn't this easier when you cop to it, Meyer?]

Do remind me, what was it you were watching?

[Kinky businessmen, wasn't it? He doesn't really need the reminder. His teasing is gentle, and anything but innocent.]

Somehow I think you remember perfectly well.

[He'd remember something like that, anyway. And never let it be said that he can't appreciate teasing, at least judging from the somewhat pleased, somewhat embarrassed expression on his face. He's not generally one to make the first move -- he's already stepped far out of his comfort zone, as it is, but taking risks has paid off this month remarkably well so far.]

[Isaak hums agreeably-- somewhere between an assent and a dismissal of the topic-- and leans forward. The's an advantage to having a long reach; between the confines of the office and the distance Meyer has already closed, he ought to be able to grab the younger man by the front of his jacket and pull him nearer. Just a bit aggressive. He suspects that won't be taken amiss.]

[Isaak would be right in that suspicion; if he wanted to break away from being grabbed by his jacket, it wouldn't be difficult, but he has no interest in breaking away at all. He's content to let himself be pulled nearer, smiling up at Isaak -- it's a genuine smile, but there's still something sharp and predatory in it nevertheless -- noting, not for the first time, just how tall Isaak is. He runs a hand down Isaak's shoulder and arm, almost casually, wondering just what's gotten into him.]

[If he really wanted to break away, he likely wouldn't have come this far.

Were Meyer more hesitant, Isaak might be less abrupt-- it's not quite roughness, at least not yet. But he has a suspicion the younger man is less of a stranger to this sort of thing than he might have pretended at first. And, if not, he seems the sort who'd speak up if he wasn't enjoying himself.

He is anything but timid, setting a hand on Meyer's hip and teasing his fingers below the waistband, trying to gauge how far and how fast to take things.]

[He's not remotely a stranger to this sort of thing, but he's never felt the need to advertise that fact. Even now, he's not advertising it so much as tacitly letting Isaak think what he wants -- which, in all fairness, is completely correct.

Once he commits to doing something, he almost always commits fully, and that's why he doesn't shy away from the hand on his hip. Instead, he simply slides his hands underneath Isaak's jacket, either simply for the sake of exploring, or to urge the jacket off, either option sounds good to him. There's a sense of purpose in his movements, but there's still that blush on his cheeks just the same.]

[He laughs-- a short, low, breathy bark of a laugh, because Isaak leads a selfish life here and this is exactly the sort of situation he likes. Sudden and unemotional and deliciously tense, and blush or not Meyer clearly isn't a complete innocent.

He'll shrug out of the jacket if the younger man can fumble the button open, while methodically untucking Meyer's shirt to expose a bit of skin.]

[Buttons are easy enough to deal with that he can open them one-handed, which probably lends credence to Isaak's belief that he isn't a complete innocent, but it gets rid of Isaak's jacket quickly enough. He doesn't mind having his shirt untucked, nor does he at all feel embarrassed by reaching up and tugging Isaak down for a kiss, should Isaak choose to acquiesce to it -- it's not the romantic kind, not at all, in fact, it's downright aggressive.]

[He wouldn't have initiated a kiss, but he retaliates readily in kind. With the top of his collar already undone-- his habitual state of being-- he's already artfully mussed when the jacket falls off his shoulders. He leans forward, weight on his feet (though he doesn't straighten up to stand; the height difference would be a bit awkward), shifting to free his arms fully, and certainly not complaining when the motion presses their bodies closer.]

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