#human muse

The handshake was firm, with a few thousand miles in the making. The conversation was seamless, brimming with sarcasm and quick fire comebacks. They’d gone from simple pen pals to old friends, small bouts of play fighting as they argued over who would pay for who.

Brett had never been so… eager to hear every word the Spaniard spoke, coated with that telltale accent. Well settled into those worn booth seats, Brett had no real intention of leaving despite the finished meal.

“Sounds like you landed yourself a real nice guy,” Brett replied, looking up from Lorenzo’s phone display, a quaint picture of Benjamin flickering across its surface. A joking waggle of eye brows, scooping the bottle of Blue Moon beer up into hand as Brett’s lips graced along the bottle’s opening. “He is,” Lorenzo was quick to pipe up, a wistful sigh as the taller male cups his chin along slim digits. “You should meet him sometime, Ben’s… well, he’s something else,” but he’d spare Brett the details.

“What about you?” Quick to spin the conversation about face, the older male was just a little bit curious. That earned a huff, a hearty gulp of beer is the best response Brett can pull off. “No settling down, hm? I’m sure she liked that,” Lorenzo teases. The younger male blinks once, twice. “What are you talking about…?”

Without so much as a warning the Spaniard takes Brett’s wrist in hand, nearly dropping the bottle as his arm swivels. Dim lighting reflects off the wrist counter, a dull glare split across the flickering series of zeroes that stared back. A hitch of breath, eyes owlishly wide.

Brett hadn’t even realized the counter had hit-

His own hand reaches up, fingers covering the small display as he chuckled nervously, trying to shake himself free from Lorenzo’s hold a bit too desperately.

“You found yourself a lucky lady I’m sure,” a cheeky grin forms. But the smile on Brett’s face is shaky at best, the silence a bit unnerving as Lorenzo wonders what he said to offend. Such a light hearted conversation coming to peak, was he wrong to presume…? No, Brett was as straight as a board, he knew that well enough. A pat on the shoulder as the Spaniard laughs, question dripping with sarcasm,