take all the time you need, I'm finishing up out here I'll see you at the tavern
[ His funds are modest, but you can really get away with modest if you're not very picky and not very happy. Good company is half the battle, anyway, and Felipe is always good company. Quentin's warm feelings for him might waver if he ever looked too closely at them, but there's a tacit agreement between them so far: when you look away, I look away. It may not be wise, but it feels safe, at least.
[ He is definitely questioning his feelings when Felipe tries to explain scoring on this card game. This is the third time. He's about three drinks in. His mouth has been hanging open this whole time, eyes glazed over as he tries to listen, but then some absolutely nonsense catches his ear-- ]
Wait, what? When the fuck do you call trump, how do I know what trump is?
[ Dropping his hand face up on the table, Quentin slouches back into the booth with a petulant, coughing whine. His knees bump Felipe's under the table, once accidentally and then again and again on purpose. ] I can't hear this, who makes up these rules? Who has the time?
[ Felipe lets out a frustrated noise when Quentin shows his hand, the sign that the game is definitely over. despite the circumstances Felipe was ready to take this seriously, hoping to get a new opponent of Quentin, but it looks like he has to admit defeat even before finishing one proper game. he gathers the cards into his hands from the table and begins shuffling them – not for another game. just to calm his nerves. ]
We should try another game. One that doesn't involve cards.
[ under the table he hooks Quentin's leg with his own to stop him from the bratty kicking. ]
[ He wants to learn! He wants to learn, and he’s miserable over not learning, but the different between sets and runs and matches and trumps is too much to keep in his head right now and—and Felipe proposes a simple alternative. He likes simple.
[ Quentin’s eyebrows raise, knees pinch around Felipe’s and tug as he winds his fingers around the bottle at the table. Wine, sharp-tasting and strong, just enough to pour half a glass for Felipe and half for himself. He shoots his own. It isn’t fine stuff. The bottle, he sets between them officiously. ]
[ that's what Quentin has been saying this whole time and Felipe could swear he didn't hear a thing. he laughs at the serious look on his face and attempts to knock his knees back. ]
Lucky for you, it's fairly simple. You tell me three things about yourself, one of them being a lie. I'll try to guess which one and...
[ he shrugs and gestures at the bottle. it's not difficult. everyone has probably played it before. ]
I'll start, yeah? [ he holds up three fingers, lowering one with each fact. ] I've stolen from my father, I've been married and I've stolen from the Duchess.
[ His mouth lilts open for a minute. Oh, he knows this game! He likes this game. But the last thing that Felipe says is less fun than the other two. His voice drops low. ]
Okay, fine, the lie is--hey! [ He slaps at Felipe's hand, anyone's bet if he actually makes contact. ] --that you stole from the Duchess, what the fuck would you even take? I couldn't even leave the tour without someone grabbing my fucking ear.
My t--no, you have to explain, right? [ That's not in the rules at all, no. He takes his penalty drink without complaint, but he's still scowling when he sets the bottle back in the middle of the table. ] I get to follow up. You can't just drop bombs like that. What was it? Is it on you? Wait--you never got married?
[ usually, explaining is part of the game, but it just hit him that Quentin is going to give him a hard time for stealing from the Duchess, so he decides it's no longer relevant. ]
You're using up all your guesses if you keep talking. [ he makes a face in answer to the questions. starts fiddling with his earring. ] But you got it right, finally. Do I seem like the marrying type?
Yes. Yeah, you seem like the two-divorces type. You seem like you could get anyone to marry you.
[ Good diversion. Quentin's head tips back as he considers his three things, ankles cross behind Felipe's, one foot wiggling absently. ] Mmm. Okay. So--
I went to school for psychology. I can't cook for shit. I didn't have any broken bones as a kid.
[ maybe he was engaged a couple of times. the story doesn't tell. ]
You're obviously a great cook. If you're not, I don't know how you're going to cook me breakfast.
[ joking – or is he? Felipe smiles as he tries to figure out the lie. he's clearly having more fun now that they're actually playing something and he's desperate to win as usual. ]
The first one could be true for all I know, but I refuse to believe that you could have made it through your first clumsy years without falling on your face every other day. It's the last one.
[ His lips curl tight and tickled, fingers stretch out to inch the bottle closer to Felipe. ] Never made it to college. I did, however, have a dad that was never less than six feet away from me. Hard to get hurt too bad when you're being watched like a hawk.
And I think you're really gonna like having fruit and cheese for breakfast.
College? What? I don't even know what that is. [ he snatches the bottle and takes a swig to drown out his annoyance. they should be both using concepts that can't be misunderstood. otherwise there's no point to the game at all. the bottle makes a noise against the table as he sets it down carelessly. ]
Your dad sounds sweet. Shame he didn't teach you how to cook. I might just have to find some other place to sleep. [ definitely a joke, but he's feeling petty enough to aim low. ]
Are those your three? Because I'm sure he does sound sweet, and it's definitely a shame--but I know the last one is fake as fuck.
[ Hopefully. The implication that Felipe is keeping him company tonight is fucking great as far as Quentin is concerned. ] Come on. Your turn, we're tied so far.
[ they're only tied because Quentin's lie didn't make any sense to him! ]
It was just the practice round. Focus. [ actually, he wants the opposite, so he moves his foot. begins rubbing their ankles together while staring deep into his eyes. ] I have a half-sister who's two years younger than me. I haven't slept with my roommate. My favorite pastime back at home was hunting.
[ Focus, but on what? Those little facts are harder, nothing bombastic to cling to or get a distinct feel of. One hand drifts to his mouth, teeth nipping at the skin around his thumbnail. The other slips beneath the table and pokes at Felipe's kneecap. Hold still. ]
Who's your roommate? The one that--came back. Right?
Mavis. [ he gives Quentin a warning look. no more questions. but he supposes it's fair that they're thinking of the same person, so he'll let it go this time. ]
Do you know her? [ he reaches his hand under the table too. tries to grab Quentin's. just another game they're playing. ]
[ He shakes his head, fingers winding easily between Felipe's, skimming his knuckles, hooking around them. Mavis. He's heard the name and a little bit of drama, but he hadn't put together that she was Felipe's roomie. Something else to keep in mind.
[ The way Felipe acts about her, it's obvious he cares deeply. But does that mean they've hooked up? Or just that he wants to? Hard call, but... ]
I don't feel like you have the patience for hunting.
What gave you that impression? Me jumping into your bed the moment I met you? [ he watches him with a half smile as he thumbs his palm idly, thoroughly enjoying mixing teasing with flirting when it comes to Quentin. he's not doing it just for the game. ] I wish I could say that it was just your mouth driving me wild, but I suppose you have a point there. You got it.
You couldn't even see my mouth. Now, I'd expect that to be a bigger selling point. So--when I was younger, I didn't even know I liked guys. [ Nevermind older guys, nevermind horrendous flirts and hot messes. ] I didn't have my first kiss with a girl till I was like sixteen. And...my first time with a guy, I was totally, totally wasted.
[ it is a great selling point. he confirms Quentin' point by staring at his mouth while the other man talks, slipping his hand under his chin. ]
Who wasn't wasted during their first time? [ not with guys, just with anyone. back at home sleeping with men wasn't exactly frowned upon, but it wasn't encouraged either. his own first time was with a woman much older than himself. ] I don't know, I have a feeling you started young. The second one.
[ The comment is easy. Fun. It isn't meant any sort of way, but panic hits Quentin sudden and strong: how the fuck would Felipe know about how young he was? Is it obvious? Does everyone know? Does he kiss some kind of way, did he say it in his sleep--
[ The hand tangled with Felipe's curls away, a spider cringing from a predator. The very next second (exhaling, reminding himself soundly that no one knows and no one fucking cares, jesuschrist) the touch is back, spread warm and firm over Felipe's knee. Apologetic. Same as his too-wide smile, distracted as his tongue sweeping his lower lip. ] So that makes us tied again. Let's break it.
[ he gives Quentin a funny look when he suddenly flinches away. is he taking this game too seriously? maybe he's a sore loser? Felipe wouldn't know anything about that! ]
You want a final round?
[ fine by him because he wants to win already. they didn't even agree on a prize, but he's all in anyway. gently, he covers the hand on his knee, very comfortable with how Quentin always seems to be touching him in some way. he should keep doing that. ]
I want to kiss my sister. I want to kill my grandfather. And my mother? I saw her die in a fire.
[ three crazy things, each said with a straight, honest face. Quentin will lose. ]
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As long as you don't insult my games we'll drink all night. You don't have to be alone.
Just give me a moment to find what we need.
→ tavern
I'll see you at the tavern
[ His funds are modest, but you can really get away with modest if you're not very picky and not very happy. Good company is half the battle, anyway, and Felipe is always good company. Quentin's warm feelings for him might waver if he ever looked too closely at them, but there's a tacit agreement between them so far: when you look away, I look away. It may not be wise, but it feels safe, at least.
[ He is definitely questioning his feelings when Felipe tries to explain scoring on this card game. This is the third time. He's about three drinks in. His mouth has been hanging open this whole time, eyes glazed over as he tries to listen, but then some absolutely nonsense catches his ear-- ]
Wait, what? When the fuck do you call trump, how do I know what trump is?
[ Dropping his hand face up on the table, Quentin slouches back into the booth with a petulant, coughing whine. His knees bump Felipe's under the table, once accidentally and then again and again on purpose. ] I can't hear this, who makes up these rules? Who has the time?
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[ Felipe lets out a frustrated noise when Quentin shows his hand, the sign that the game is definitely over. despite the circumstances Felipe was ready to take this seriously, hoping to get a new opponent of Quentin, but it looks like he has to admit defeat even before finishing one proper game. he gathers the cards into his hands from the table and begins shuffling them – not for another game. just to calm his nerves. ]
We should try another game. One that doesn't involve cards.
[ under the table he hooks Quentin's leg with his own to stop him from the bratty kicking. ]
All we need is a bottle.
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[ Quentin’s eyebrows raise, knees pinch around Felipe’s and tug as he winds his fingers around the bottle at the table. Wine, sharp-tasting and strong, just enough to pour half a glass for Felipe and half for himself. He shoots his own. It isn’t fine stuff. The bottle, he sets between them officiously. ]
Teach me. I swear I’m listening.
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Lucky for you, it's fairly simple. You tell me three things about yourself, one of them being a lie. I'll try to guess which one and...
[ he shrugs and gestures at the bottle. it's not difficult. everyone has probably played it before. ]
I'll start, yeah? [ he holds up three fingers, lowering one with each fact. ] I've stolen from my father, I've been married and I've stolen from the Duchess.
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Felipe, tell me you didn't steal shit from her.
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[ he reaches over the table to flick his forehead gently. ]
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Wrong, now it's your turn. But you have to drink first.
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You're using up all your guesses if you keep talking. [ he makes a face in answer to the questions. starts fiddling with his earring. ] But you got it right, finally. Do I seem like the marrying type?
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[ Good diversion. Quentin's head tips back as he considers his three things, ankles cross behind Felipe's, one foot wiggling absently. ] Mmm. Okay. So--
I went to school for psychology. I can't cook for shit. I didn't have any broken bones as a kid.
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You're obviously a great cook. If you're not, I don't know how you're going to cook me breakfast.
[ joking – or is he? Felipe smiles as he tries to figure out the lie. he's clearly having more fun now that they're actually playing something and he's desperate to win as usual. ]
The first one could be true for all I know, but I refuse to believe that you could have made it through your first clumsy years without falling on your face every other day. It's the last one.
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And I think you're really gonna like having fruit and cheese for breakfast.
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Your dad sounds sweet. Shame he didn't teach you how to cook. I might just have to find some other place to sleep. [ definitely a joke, but he's feeling petty enough to aim low. ]
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[ Hopefully. The implication that Felipe is keeping him company tonight is fucking great as far as Quentin is concerned. ] Come on. Your turn, we're tied so far.
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It was just the practice round. Focus. [ actually, he wants the opposite, so he moves his foot. begins rubbing their ankles together while staring deep into his eyes. ] I have a half-sister who's two years younger than me. I haven't slept with my roommate. My favorite pastime back at home was hunting.
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Who's your roommate? The one that--came back. Right?
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Do you know her? [ he reaches his hand under the table too. tries to grab Quentin's. just another game they're playing. ]
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[ The way Felipe acts about her, it's obvious he cares deeply. But does that mean they've hooked up? Or just that he wants to? Hard call, but... ]
I don't feel like you have the patience for hunting.
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Who wasn't wasted during their first time? [ not with guys, just with anyone. back at home sleeping with men wasn't exactly frowned upon, but it wasn't encouraged either. his own first time was with a woman much older than himself. ] I don't know, I have a feeling you started young. The second one.
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[ The hand tangled with Felipe's curls away, a spider cringing from a predator. The very next second (exhaling, reminding himself soundly that no one knows and no one fucking cares, jesuschrist) the touch is back, spread warm and firm over Felipe's knee. Apologetic. Same as his too-wide smile, distracted as his tongue sweeping his lower lip. ] So that makes us tied again. Let's break it.
Give me something harder.
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[ he gives Quentin a funny look when he suddenly flinches away. is he taking this game too seriously? maybe he's a sore loser? Felipe wouldn't know anything about that! ]
You want a final round?
[ fine by him because he wants to win already. they didn't even agree on a prize, but he's all in anyway. gently, he covers the hand on his knee, very comfortable with how Quentin always seems to be touching him in some way. he should keep doing that. ]
I want to kiss my sister. I want to kill my grandfather. And my mother? I saw her die in a fire.
[ three crazy things, each said with a straight, honest face. Quentin will lose. ]
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cw: homophobia mention
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