#Vere can pay for that LMFAO

[sanctissimx]

Whatever tentative delight he'd felt at the sight of his obscure object of desire showing up on his birthday eroded with every acerbic word Vere spat at him. Like a stoneworker's chisel, Vere had chipped away at whatever tentative potential of delight Leander might hope to hold, that Vere might want to have a drink with him. Maybe have a proper conversation that wasn't just a an empty prelude to whatever atrocities they would commit in his rented room. But that was reaching a little too much.

Leander shifted his weight, not quite taking a full step back, but creating a meaningful distance with the movement. Just enough that Vere couldn't confuse his intentions, nor would he cross any boundaries. He paused a moment, reflecting on the utter rejection he'd just received.

.................. ❝ You’re just a convenient sideshow. ❞

Biting words, full of acromonious intent, intended to tear down any shred of celebratory desires Leander might have aspired to. But if Leander took a moment and cleared his thoughts, listened to the string of loaded, apical insults without assigning them to Vere's mouth, he would see how desperately Vere had spoken, how enthusiastically — for someone who claimed to not care about Leander's presence. Even on his birthday. Didn't bad liars always overcomplicate their own untruths just like this?

The thought gave him a little relief, and a shy smile curled faintly on his lips. "Sure," he agreed, signalling to the barkeep and promptly receiving two drinks set before him almost immediately. The froth of the generous head spilled over the sides of he tankards, looking perfectly delectable. Leander picked up both, pressing his lips to the overflow and sucking up the foam from the side of the tankard he eventually offered to Vere.

"This one's on me," Leander said easily, stepping back and turning towards his waiting party. "Don't want to intrude on anything you've got going on—" He gestured at Vere and the solitude surounding him in spite of the liveliness of the bar. "Over here." Leander gestured at his table full of friends. "if you want me, you know where to find me. Just in case the ... main event doesn't pan out for you .... you've always got a place with the sideshow."

He left Vere with a wink, turning back to his friends. He'd already made his best effort, and in good faith. If Vere wanted his attention tonight, he'd have to seek him out this time.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖙 𝖂𝖎𝖈𝖐 was a chaotic symphony of noise and motion, a whirlwind of laughter, shouts, and clinking glasses. The scent of spilled ale and roasted meats mingled with the smoky haze of the fireplace, adding to the heady ambiance but making Vere's nostrils burn. Despite the late hour, it seemed to Vere the energy in the room showed no signs of waning. But it was exactly what he was looking for this evening after a night of skulking around the city. It was into this scene of relentless festivity that Vere had hoped to slip in like a shadow, thinking his entrance had barely been noticed by the jubilant crowd as he slinked his way towards the bar. Yet he had barely pushed halfway through when he met eyes with not a potential snack for the evening as he would have preferred, but the man of the hour himself. Leander.

Vere’s lips curled into a faint, almost disdainful smile as he met Leander’s far too pleased gaze. His own eyes retained their usual calculating sharpness, betraying nothing of the true reason he had wandered into the tavern tonight. Yet despite his efforts Leander already seemed to know, at least by the sudden feeling of a cat who caught the mouse that came over Vere. He leant leisurely against a nearby table to get his composure back, claws drumming a soft rhythm on the worn wood behind him because he absolutely loathed feeling like he didn't have the upper hand.

❝ A-huh... If you're the one offering, I suppose I can’t refuse. ❞ He tilted his head to act nonchalant, letting ruby locks cascade over his shoulder towards his back. ❝ You look like you've been run ragged by your own party, you don't even have that sweaty trench on you. ❞ Vere teased. His eyes flickered down to Leander’s muscular frame, lingering on the way his shirt clung to his arms and chest a little too tightly before quickly darting back up to meet his gaze.

❝ Who knew the mighty Leander could be worn down by a few rounds of mead and bad jokes ? ❞ Vere smirked at him as he said it, pink eyes glinting with amusement as he scanned the crowd. His gaze momentarily honed in on a few unsuspecting revelers and some who looked on at the two of them with interest. ❝ I'm just here for a drink, of course. Don’t get any ideas. But I might stay a bit longer, if only to see what sort of trouble you get yourself into next... ❞ His voice was lilted with that same teasing delight as he went on, ❝ Someone has to keep an eye on you when you're this... incapacitated. No takers yet ? Where's that white haired little runt when you need them ? ❞

He paused, crossing his arms as if to shield himself from the infectious merriment around them. ❝ I mean it, don’t think this means anything, ❞ he said, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ❝ I’m just here for a bit of entertainment. Maybe find someone interesting to, you know, keep me company later since uptown is lights out right about now ... ❞ His scowl returned, but it was softened ever so slightly by the slight curling wave of his tail behind him the longer Vere looked up at him. He added unconvincingly, ❝ You’re just a convenient sideshow. ❞ Thankfully, a bloodhound member too drunk to function stumbled and was pushed directly into his side, jostling him from any of that weakness with a hiss.