Right now, Yuri Lowell looks particularly kissable, he wonders. And immediately freezes, running that thought through his mind once again, the following thought akin to a wordless feeling of āwhat the fuckā and heās most certainly pushing that nonsense down. Too drunk, he figures, head shaking over his drink. Hardly had any booze, but, well, since taking a trip with the kids heās been cutting back. Wasnāt quite so hard to stay sober, wasnāt quite to tempting to drown everything out. This thought though--made him start to rethink this new policy. Didnāt think he could handle that nonsense sober.
Ā āWhatās the problem, old man?ā Ā Dry and biting as always, pulling the old bird back from his cups. Hadnāt been so good at hiding that lil crisis of his, huh. Eh, heād just play it off, shake it off like always. One little stray thought didnāt mean anything.
Ā āNothinā, nothinā. Hey, pass over thā salt--ā Ā Just pass the night like normal.
The lightās behind the wolf now, and the bird has his chin propped up on his hand, slack jaw and expression as he looks, eyes trailing up and down the line of gold that framed the youngerās jawline, the slope his neck, the beginning of his chest--
And then his shoulders hitch as he starts to think again, and realizes what heās doing. Damn fool. Out goes a frustrated huff of air as he turns away, restless irritation rising to run his hand through his hair now. He was too sober for this. Too damn sober to be admiring a man, admiring Yuri. The hell was he doing.
He plays it off again. He always plays it off. But thereās just the slightest edge to it this time, the making sure he doesnāt look too long, doesnāt get too affectionate, doesnāt lean over and playfully yank Yuriās hair, doesnāt let his smiles linger. This seems to frustrate the wolf over time. Frustrates himself more. The night ends on a sour note.
Heās been thinking. Doesnāt like that. But heās been thinking. And heās decided what to do.
Yep, just ignore it. Forget it. Sooner or later those weird feelings will dissipate, or, worst case, become so normal he can just tune āem out. Ignoring all his problems has definitely, always worked in the past. Absolutely. What a weight off his chest this decision is! No more fretting over if heās seriously attracted to a) a man and b) this man. Probably just mistaking the normal feeling of intimacy people feel towards their best friends (which, as sarcastically as the phrase always comes out when saying it aloud, was the truth) anyway.
Itās not like Yuri would want some old bird attempting to woo him anyway. Wouldnāt want the normal schmooze he gives the ladies, the usual over-heavy laying on the charm. Not seriously. As a gag, maybe, and even then itās all eye rolls and ānot funnyās. Wouldnāt want that hand on his back, those rough lips by his ear. Heās washed up, heās got a messy past, got too much bagged that the kid knew too much about to ever have the same thoughts cross his mind.
So, hands in his pockets, a spring in his step, he whistles. Itās all right. Heāll get over it.
Heās not really getting over it. Not as fast as heād hoped. Heād hoped that as soon as he made his decision, itād stop. Wouldnāt find himself making up excuses to stand so close, at least. Wouldnāt have found an excuse to keep his hand behind the wolf (thā place is crowded, yeah?) as he puts on a smile thatās part giddy and part forced. Good thing he didnāt really have a heart, so he didnāt have to listen to any damned pounding of a fool. Heās a fool that ought get pounded. Wouldnāt even mind a sorta pounding--
Nope. Nope, not continuing that thought, and it ruins his mood enough to visibly make a face of disgust with himself. Yikes. Really losing it there, bud. Way too old to act like this. He takes his hand back, takes a step away, has to rub his face to rub in how dumb heās acting. Yuri looks back, looks as if heās going to say something, but really, the bird has been so strange lately, this might as well be normal. Thereās no point to asking whatās wrong. Wouldnāt get an answer anyway. Itād just annoy them both. So the bird settles in, this time with much more distance, and they pretend itās a normal night, just like all the others.
Say, maybe heās had a couple too many to drink. He was irritated, Yuriās words were cutting more and more, and they were both on the verge of leaving, calling it a night and trying to play masquerade another day. Rough hands tighten āround bottleās neck--this is a damn dumb way to act. A phrase heās been repeating over and over to himself the whole night. This nonsense was going to run sour anything they did, wasnāt it. He couldnāt--let that happen, now could he. This was his best friend, after all.
Sure, his guild-mates were fine, he had his hands full with helping run a global power, his skills as spy and pet and assassin coming in handy, all the years heād spent at the sides of those in charge, and apparently heād picked up more than he thought. Yet, even with Harry there was distance. The kid didnāt need to know all the birdās past deeds, all the mistakes and wrongs he did and all the parts that were still sharp and broken. Same went for Karol, and the rest of them.
āSides, Yuri was a good reminder what would await him if he fell off the track again. He thought about it still, sometimes. There were still days he felt he shouldnāt be around, days he wondered why the line ought be bothered to tread, what did it matter, days were he damn near just did anything at all he was told to do, just to not think. Ah, but that wasnāt the sort of stuff Raven did, and the young wolf kept him remembering that. Raven was a flirt and a sleaze, but he was also an upstanding member of Altosk. He wouldnāt know what to do without Yuri there. Heād probably be fine, maybe--but it sure wouldnāt be the same, wouldnāt feel quite so right or be quite so happy. Strange thing to say, ābout someone whoās business was murder.
There the wolf goes, getting up to leave, and the bird canāt blame him. A slow, unappealing end to the night, and heās just inebriated enough to lurch to his feet as well, grab the manās wrist. He doesnāt quite know what to do with it, but heās got it, and he figures heās got to say something about.
Ā ā--Sorry. Sorry, ābout tānight. āBout thā last nights.ā Ā Ah, he sounds pathetic, tripping over his words. He canāt even convince himself to look up, just staring at his hand as he holds onto the other, his grip loosening as he speaks. Yuriās warm. But--he doesnāt think he likes this. Doesnāt like having so many feelings for someone, even if he is overreacting, mistaking any feelings for another. Even if itās all platonic, doesnāt know if he likes being so tied to someone, so invested in their well-being, so interested in their company. Had he ever cared for someone so much--?
Ā āLook, this is--this is gonna be weird, aāright? But I just--bah, Iām jusā overthinkinā things anā getting weird.ā Ā Heās so frustrated with himself, so annoyed by not being to deal with this in the way he always has--shove it down and ignore it.This irritation helps push him into his next action, a quick half step forward, thrusting his head near Yuriās, close ānough his own breath warms his lips as he closes in--
And he chickens out. Staying there, freezing. Ah, damn. The wolf pulls back, nose wrinkled from the stench of alcohol on his breath, and those lips part for some sort of beratement, surely--and heās got his second wind, free hand up to cup the wolfās cheek as he capitalizes on confusion and irritation to slip in that kiss heās been thinking about for far too long. A bothersome thing, these āfeelingsā, a more bothersome reaction in his enjoyment of the feeling, wanting to do more than a quick surprise kiss, a there and gone, and really relish that warmth. But he wonāt, far too much a coward for even as much as heās done, and heās cut off all contact with the wolf as if he was holding hot iron.
Ā āYep, weird. Right, see ya next time yer in town, bud.ā Ā Oh, he hasnāt attempted to book quite so awkward or quite so hasty a retreat in quite some time, and from the grimace on his face, the stiff movements, one really isnāt quite sure if he enjoyed that action, or if the man was in any control of himself at all. And, really, he wasnāt all too sure on either front himself.