Did you think I'd be alone
"Do you dislike it here?" In Caido or Torchline, Matéo left it open to Harper to interpret. Either subject seemed to bring a sense of an almost uneasy wistfulness to the other man that took him away from the here and now. Perhaps he was being selfish, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but that was the exact opposite of what Matéo wanted at that moment.
Dark eyes flit to the scarred curve of Harper's wrists for just a moment before taking his time making his way from his lips to his gaze, drinking in the flush on his pretty cheeks. He could certainly think of some chains he'd like to see him try and escape, talking the way he was. Any thoughts of those that might stare at two men so close are long-locked behind an alcohol-induced haze, a problem for tomorrow's Matéo, instead the young man's tongue catching his eye as he finds himself leaning in.
Harper speaks again and Matéo catches himself, pulling back further than perhaps is necessary to correct the near-intimate distance he'd created, taking a sip of his drink even as thoughts of what Harper's weight would feel like against him. His mind wandering to the idea of cradling him against his chest as they walked, one arm under his legs and another supporting his back, is enough to bring a flush of his own to his cheeks as he clears his throat to keep his train of thought from continuing. Setting the glass back down against the counter, perhaps a bit harder than necessary, even he raises a brow at the previous comment. "Uncivilized, eh? You haven't seen me at my best." Or worst, if taking his liver into consideration. "A little bird like yourself, putting away that much is impressive. Much more civilized than someone like me." His lips pull up, smirking despite himself, as he swirls his glass around, never once taking his eyes off of the other.
to come home
