#to like 30 himself so im completely open minded and i've written him against older dudes too!!

[dialsdrnk]

like clockwork, benji's body swivels just the slightest amount to point his knees towards oliver, his feet clinging to the bottom bar of the stool he's sat on and palms gripping the underside of the seat. "brian the dog," he says back in the small space of time between the question and oliver crossing his legs, just as non-committedly, and extremely unhelpfully. benji didn't have much investment in the brian and snoopy thing, either, evidently.

however, what oliver goes on to say piques immediate and intense interest in benji — he's familiar with hockney's work ( he's an artist himself — and one especially fond of bright colors, which david has much of ) but not so much his history, so color him fascinated to learn this. "i am really sorry i missed that, then. mind starting over? i know his work, but only a little. how obsessed are we talking?"

oliver wants to chastise him for not interjecting sooner -- though he doubts benji will catch it in full from where he's seated. so he gives in, huffing, and sidles into the space in question, fingers already coming down to squeeze at his own knee. "who's brian?" he asks -- albeit non-committal. his brows knit together in a furrow, and in the pause -- the whisper of quiet -- oliver's grasped leg comes to cross atop his right. he's only one rum and coke down, but his usual jitters feel exacerbated with liquor. it'd been watery and low in percentage, but he digresses. and oliver's not actually interested in the cast of 'family guy' (it sounds like a sitcom with a laugh track) so he waves through the inquisition, left hand coming up in gesture. "nevermind -- i was talking about david hockney. and his dogs. his paintings of his dogs. his obsessive paintings of his dogs."