Tom Irwin (
extendedmetaphor) wrote2012-10-10 07:31 pm
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Or, perhaps, somewhere, they did go for that drink.
There was a lot that Irwin was still trying to adjust to. The weather, for a start. The lack of palpable history is disconcerting. He's refusing to address the dinosaurs.
And then there's Dakin. Of course, there's Dakin. Inevitably. Irwin might have been the only one who was actually surprised.
They skirted around it for a few weeks but, in the end, it just felt inevitable. That he'd find himself waiting for Dakin with a drink in front of him.
It was just a drink. And everything would be fine.
There was a lot that Irwin was still trying to adjust to. The weather, for a start. The lack of palpable history is disconcerting. He's refusing to address the dinosaurs.
And then there's Dakin. Of course, there's Dakin. Inevitably. Irwin might have been the only one who was actually surprised.
They skirted around it for a few weeks but, in the end, it just felt inevitable. That he'd find himself waiting for Dakin with a drink in front of him.
It was just a drink. And everything would be fine.
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Though that, of course, depended on whether or not you went in for euphemisms. Dakin quite liked verbal fig leaves and and for him that single drink could mean a great many things.
To ensure that at least one of them happened, he had prepared a lot. From the highly impractical for the heat leather jacket to his hair to his jeans, everything had to be right. Scripps had mocked the whole process mercilessly, but it was like a soldier preparing for battle, really. He had to be thorough for his best chance at an eventual victory.
By the time he appeared at Irwin's side, ordering his drink with a casual smile at the bartender, Dakin felt about as fucking prepared as he'd ever been in his life.
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For a moment, neither of them said anything. Irwin picked up his glass and took a sip of his drink, glancing at Dakin rather than looking at him directly. It all still felt rather...illicit, even though they were nothing to each other now, not teacher not pupil.
Free of that, really.
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"I almost didn't think you'd show," he finally said, having let the silence stretch until it was almost uncomfortable, waiting until he had his own drink in front of him.
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Here, Irwin didn't know what chance he stood. Looking at Dakin, leather across his shoulders and the stretch of cotton across his chest, Irwin didn't feel like he stood a chance at all.
"I think I may be insulted."
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"And what else do you think is going to happen?" he asked, trying to sound brave, at least. "Because I'm sure you've thought it through since the last time we had this conversation."
He was an idiot. He was such an idiot. But, God. He wanted to know.
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Irwin cleared his throat.
"Or it could just be a drin."
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"History is doomed to repeat itself," he said. "How did Rudge put it?" His eyebrow lifted. "One fucking thing after another."
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"So what would be interesting and unexpected?"
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"Well, it wouldn't be either if I told you, would it?"
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