Mm, maybe not if she shows up tomorrow since I'm not doing a good job now. But if she takes a while to show up... [He shrugs a slim shoulder.] I'll just have to practice on you in the meantime, won't I?
He realizes that at a distance, as if he's looking out at himself from a vantage. They're sitting very close, legs pressed together. He usually sits close to people, but not like this, not unless he's good friends with them -- but here they are, sitting together, and god, he thinks, but they're close enough that he could lean in without any real effort and--
Things don't get better when Bruno leans back-- no, if anything, that makes things worse, because leaning back like that, Polnareff can really take in Bruno. Skinny, he'd teased earlier, but that's not quite the right word for what he is. Slender, maybe, or lean-- because he's smaller than Polnareff, yeah, but it's not as if he doesn't have muscles there. There's a gracefulness to both his demeanor and figure, something softer but no less powerful than Polnareff's own physique. You'd think he'd have noticed it before, working on that stupid boat, but somehow it's only hitting him just now.
He notices all that very distantly, taking in each reaction without much thought beyond it, and absolutely does not think about why Bruno's words have triggered such thoughts. It's a conscious effort, a very firm not right now to whatever conclusions his brain wants to come to. Not right now, I can't deal with this, later, I'll think about it later.]
[He doesn't, fortunately, show most of this on his face. There's a flicker of expression, a jump of something-- and then it's back to smirking, confident and a little superior, because if there's one thing Polnareff knows how to do, it's act like he's the best.]
You're gonna have to step up your game. Think you're ready for that?
[Bruno notices the flicker of an expression, but doesn't attribute much to it. If he was sober — well, if he was sober, he probably wouldn't have made the comment in the first place, but he might have had his attention held a little longer by that brief shift in his expression. As it is, he just shakes his head a little at the challenge.]
For all you know, I've been holding back, Polnareff. [Bruno raises an eyebrow with a small, amused hum.] Forse non ho voglia di sopraffare.
[He laughs softly, as he sits up and then leans in a little closer as he picks up Polnareff's discarded, empty wine glass.]
Io dirò mai. [Transferring the glass to his other hand with his own empty glass, Bruno shifts to put both feet back on the floor. He sighs and sounds tired, but content.] It's starting to get late. I should head back to my room.
[Or more accurately, he's probably going to want to lie down before much longer and he'll end up sleeping in here instead. Bruno pats Polnareff's knee again, but this time his hand stays for a little while longer as he looks at Polnareff.]
[As he stands up, Bruno's hand puts a little more pressure on Polnareff's knee before leaving it. He pauses just for a few seconds once he's standing for a small stretch before moving to see himself out.]
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Mm, maybe not if she shows up tomorrow since I'm not doing a good job now. But if she takes a while to show up... [He shrugs a slim shoulder.] I'll just have to practice on you in the meantime, won't I?
1/2
He realizes that at a distance, as if he's looking out at himself from a vantage. They're sitting very close, legs pressed together. He usually sits close to people, but not like this, not unless he's good friends with them -- but here they are, sitting together, and god, he thinks, but they're close enough that he could lean in without any real effort and--
Things don't get better when Bruno leans back-- no, if anything, that makes things worse, because leaning back like that, Polnareff can really take in Bruno. Skinny, he'd teased earlier, but that's not quite the right word for what he is. Slender, maybe, or lean-- because he's smaller than Polnareff, yeah, but it's not as if he doesn't have muscles there. There's a gracefulness to both his demeanor and figure, something softer but no less powerful than Polnareff's own physique. You'd think he'd have noticed it before, working on that stupid boat, but somehow it's only hitting him just now.
He notices all that very distantly, taking in each reaction without much thought beyond it, and absolutely does not think about why Bruno's words have triggered such thoughts. It's a conscious effort, a very firm not right now to whatever conclusions his brain wants to come to. Not right now, I can't deal with this, later, I'll think about it later.]
no subject
You're gonna have to step up your game. Think you're ready for that?
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For all you know, I've been holding back, Polnareff. [Bruno raises an eyebrow with a small, amused hum.] Forse non ho voglia di sopraffare.
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[So scathing-- and it's like nothing's wrong, because nothing is wrong, because he's not thinking about it. So.]
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Io dirò mai. [Transferring the glass to his other hand with his own empty glass, Bruno shifts to put both feet back on the floor. He sighs and sounds tired, but content.] It's starting to get late. I should head back to my room.
[Or more accurately, he's probably going to want to lie down before much longer and he'll end up sleeping in here instead. Bruno pats Polnareff's knee again, but this time his hand stays for a little while longer as he looks at Polnareff.]
Grazie amico mio. For tonight.
no subject
[He offers a slight smile. Bruno's hand on his knee is warm, he notices in that same distant way. It's a nice weight.]
My pleasure. I'll, uh-- if you actually want to learn French, I'll draw you up some stuff-- basic words, stuff like that.
no subject
[As he stands up, Bruno's hand puts a little more pressure on Polnareff's knee before leaving it. He pauses just for a few seconds once he's standing for a small stretch before moving to see himself out.]
Buona notte, Polnareff.