dumbshow | Friends of Trains

[Jacob being so excited about this is what's really criminal about their planned illegal bonfire. Ned cants his head to one side to watch him, not steal a glance or pretend to look elsewhere but just look at him. Jacob's trying to drag him back to his roots, to when he wasn't important enough to be the man behind the desk and had to be the kid setting a cop carriage on fire and the horses free. Back in the field...!!

And, goddamn it: he's so pretty about it. It does give Ned something to look at. He hums, leaning into the hand that pushes him mostly to resist being pushed but also because he doesn't want to sway too much. The whiskey.]

You're trying to monopolize my time again, Frye. I'll allow it, but know that I know what your angle is. [They didn't even exhaust the "for a Rook" excuse before Jacob threw it out.]

Am I supposed to have an angle, Ned? [Jacob doesn't think so hard about his reasons. As far as he's concerned, he just wants Ned to join him and enjoy himself. That's... all. He didn't want to explain beyond that, because he didn't know how to not sound so pathetic, but...]

It's not a crime to like having you around. [He tries, squeezing his shoulder before he withdrew his hand.] That's probably the most legal thing I do.

[Ned hums, shifting to put his glass down on the desk. He's not done with it, but since he can already feel the effects of the rest of what he drank, it's time to stop. Any more and he might actually say out loud to Jacob that his posturing and taunting about angles and monopolizing is as much for his own sake as it is to tease Jacob. He can't just... want to hang out. He has a reputation, he's a schemer, just hanging out doesn't mesh with that at all—]

Flattery'll get you pretty far, [he says, and doesn't make a fuss about his shoulder. He's not trying to drink down his nerves, or anything - lucky him, because apparently it didn't work. Once again: goddamn it.] Go ahead and tell me another.

[Is that platonic,]

[Oh. Jacob was always prepared to compliment Ned when he wasn't ready, but asking for it? He blanches. This is the worst time to get embarrassed, which is why there's a darker tint in his cheeks. Totally. And the whiskey.]

I just can't find intelligent conversation elsewhere. [He crosses his arms over his chest, turning to face him more with a feign of confidence.] As intelligent as it can be with me, anyway. And you're certainly the most-- [uh, well,] --charming. [shit.]

[Jacob's immediate awkward bumbling does wonders to put Ned at ease at the same time everything else about him makes his heart turn over. Goddamn it, Jacob Frye, control that face.

Still. Ned's eyebrows go right up, again, because someone here has to maintain a more convincing casual air. It's him. It's not Jacob.]

The most charming, huh? In London? [Ever???] In that case, this "charmed" thing— [He gestures up and down at Jacob; all of this, this bumbling.] This is a good look for you.

[Ned was allowed to be charming, but not that charming. He couldn't place the feeling he got when Ned praised him before, but after certain... events transpired, he knows exactly what it is. Drunk or not. He still didn't know what to do with it beyond stammering and changing the subject.

He can try without the latter, he supposes. The former was harder.] That's-- That's probably the nicest thing I've heard from you in a while. [Umm,] I dressed up all nice for you, and you prefer me with hats off. You need to make up your mind, Ned.

[Ned hums, shifting again to face Jacob and lean his hip against the desk. Hmm—well, now he's just looking at him and not saying anything. He scoffs, glancing down and reaching over to fiddle with the brim of Jacob's abandoned hat where it's sitting on top of his paperwork.]

Oh, I've made up my mind, alright. [Which is totally fine to just say without context or explanation. Let's see, ordinarily "you look okay when you're embarrassed" would be his compliment limit, but...] Wear it next time you take me around town and I'll tell you it brings out your eyes.

[close enough]

I didn't know you spent that much time looking at my eyes.

[If he's not going to elaborate, that just means Jacob's going to prod. Not-so-subtle prodding was his specialty, after all. He drops his arms, placing a hand on the desk so he could lean forward without tipping over.] Care to get lost in them?

[Oh, hello. That... display gets Ned to laugh, at the same time he lets go of Jacob's hat to fold his arms over his chest and look up at him seriously, jaw set. Flirting is nice and all, but there are still things to get a little defensive about. Alcohol or not - Ned hasn't lasted this long with London under his thumb without knowing how to take care of himself.

So maybe he's making this a little less... what, romantic? Less romantic than it could be? Until Jacob shuts up and puts his money where his mouth is, he's a bumbling idiot, and Ned isn't too far behind him.]

I don't get lost, Frye. [But he sure does stare into pretty boys' eyes, so just deal with his mixed messages for a minute.] Are you drunk?

[Jacob exhales in... what, frustration? Relief? He's not sure himself. Somehow Ned's response wasn't disappointing, seeing as he doesn't really know what he wants out of this conversation in the first place.

He will take the opportunity to meet Ned's gaze for once, studying his face. He's still somewhat restrained, fingers curling rather than reaching to touch anything. The impulse is there.] Does it matter if I am? Don't tell me you'll send me away.

[He's not quite close enough that Ned can smell the whiskey on his breath, or anything, which is really quite fortunate as that would be the end of his carefully monitored self control. This little moment, or whatever it is, close enough at least to study the flecks of color in Jacob's eyes—it's enough. Ned can see him restraining himself, and for all his personal defenses and all the walls he puts up, he can't deny that that's still thrilling.

So, to reiterate, again: god damn it.]

I won't, but I like having my bases covered. It's a real strict policy, you know.

Oh, I bet it is. [Jacob's only really half listening, if he were honest. He's too wrapped up in the details of Ned's face. He had a nice jaw, and... lips. Jacob was focused on his lips.]

Do you have a real strict policy on partnerships, Ned? Do they stay strictly business? [Now he is leaning close enough to smell whiskey. Terrible.]

[Oh, well—alright. Now Jacob is close, probably too close for manners and propriety and other things that matter to other people. Ned purses his lips, gaze sliding away from Jacob's face for a moment like he's really thinking about this question. He is, actually, but not for as long as he pretends. That American Whiskey sure is excellent.]

I thought I told you this isn't a business meeting. [Not that it was supposed to be more than drinks and some flirting, but here they are. Ned snaps his gaze back to Jacob's eyes and grabs a handful of his shirt collar, pausing one last split second to consider and decide to hell with it and pull him down to kiss him hard.

He's not delicate about it, no matter what he looks like. This kiss gets the point across, he thinks, and he lets go and breaks away from Jacob much sooner than he really wants to because there's always that chance Jacob will not respond well.

But there. That's out in the open where everyone present can talk about it now.]

[The last time Jacob pulled into a kiss it was just as hard... but severely unwanted. And since that incident he's reserved his lips for witty banter and avoidance of anything remotely serious, even when it came to Ned. It's taken awhile for reservation to ebb into contemplation, contemplation to hesitance. But it was only a matter of time before he tried kissing Ned. He's grateful for the other's initiative.

Even so, he does tense initially. There was still a moment of uncertainty, where he didn't know if his stomach would turn over like his last encounter. His hands hesitated over Ned's sides, and he hadn't pressed his lips back against him in the worst moment to have a racing mind. When he came to his conclusion his fingers were slow to rest on Ned's sides, finding he didn't want to push him away like he might have thought. He was finally going to return the kiss when Ned pulled back. His point settled in just a tad late, the delay more Jacob's fault than the whiskey's.]

... Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. [He tries, but his laugh is awkward. His embarrassment is genuine, and his blush isn't from the drinking. He meant to kiss him if the time came, and it passed, and now he can't help but lean forward in an effort to make up for that fact. One would think an assassin would go in just as hard, if not more, but his lips are soft with little force to be felt. The one thing Jacob Frye was weak in, of all things.]

[Ned can feel Jacob tense up and he can feel him stand there not doing a thing when Ned's lips are against his own and he thinks, alright, that's it, it wasn't a good judgment call after all. Despite himself, despite how much stupid, unfettered affection he has for Jacob and how much he's considered kissing him for weeks until now, he spends the tail end of the kiss already thinking up what it will take to pay Jacob off so he never mentions this to anyone. Since it was such a bad idea.

He's stuck in that frame of mind so much that he doesn't realize Jacob's hands have found their way to him until he says something ridiculous. Ned blinks—the defensiveness goes out of his gaze for a moment he's vulnerable, hands on his body he hasn't asked for and practically handing another man ammunition to ruin him. It isn't the best moment of his life, these few seconds.

But Jacob's hands are on him and he's leaning closer to kiss him again, and Ned figures now or never is the time to relax. The way Jacob kisses him is maddening, all gentle and soft like this, so when Ned lets go of his collar to wind his arm around Jacob's shoulders and press back into the kiss, he's insistent. Not bruisingly hard like he was a moment ago, but trying to lead where Jacob is struggling.]

Come on, Frye, [he murmurs against his lips when that kiss ends.] Like you mean it.

[Jacob's relieved to find Ned will still kiss him after his poor reaction. He nearly thought he wouldn't, that he'd ruined the moment, so the arms around his neck do wonders for the tension in his shoulders. For all the fear of being uncomfortable, he's settling against him quite nicely. Slowly, but nicely.]

I do mean it. [He smiles against his lips, a hand moving around to the small of his back to keep Ned against him. He turns them so he pressed him back against his desk, his kiss significantly stronger than the last to prove his point.] I'm glad this isn't business.

[Much better. Ned can't claim to be totally relaxed himself - people don't touch him, to say nothing of how many people he's kissed in his lifetime (very few, actually). And it's especially true that he spends very little time pinned to his own desk, so all of this takes some getting used to.

Baby steps, for all his initiative. It's lucky that they're both a little nervous. Still, Ned can't help but smirk at Jacob's little quips, winding his other arm up around his shoulders too. Not business.] No, it definitely isn't. You kiss better when you're not boggling at me like a lost little kid.

[Smile more,]

Well, I'm sorry. It's hard to tell that you like me when that's what you call a compliment. [He says this, as if it isn't making him smile wider. He can't seem to stop laughing, and it's entirely Ned's fault. What a terrible thing.

He could help bringing the hand up from his side to brush a strand Ned's hair back, but the restraint he'd been hanging onto was all but gone.] Practice makes perfect, right? I might need loads of practice...

[Oh, now he's got that annoying Frye swagger back, has he? Annoying, as much as Ned is drawn to it... Shush.]

Who's saying I like you? [He says this, but he's smirking and kissing the corner of his mouth. There's your practice, Jacob. That's his silent approval.] I do, but you could use a little polish.

[Like a gem! Thief jokes.]

You can polish me all you like. [That... was a witty comeback that just happened to be dirty. He totally intended that and wasn't surprised at his own words spilling out of his mouth.

Shut up. He'll just use his mouth to kiss him, instead. They're shorter, now, since he doesn't really know how many are appropriate here.] It seems- you've stolen- another jewel. [He is a gem, thanks,]

[Ha ha oh wow, if Jacob isn't already used to Ned's eyebrows responding before he has a chance to form whole sentences of his own, he'll have to get used to that, because up they go again. Polish him all he likes, well, maybe he will... Some. Other time. Not tonight.]

Possibly the greatest caper of my career, [he says, punctuated with a longer kiss. It's not actually the greatest caper of his career, that's probably all the priceless art he ripped off at once, but it sounds real good in the middle of all this gem flirting.] But I almost feel like the prize has been following me around asking to be stolen.

[Callout post: Jacob Frye is a dweeb.]

[Jacob would probably try to act offended if he weren't so completely incapable of it at the moment. All he can do is keep giggling like the dweeb he was, leaning his forehead against Ned's. One, because he wanted to. Two, because his balance is completely reliant on him at this rate.]

It took you long enough, didn't it?

[Jacob is adorable and Ned would tease him about it if he weren't feeling the buzz, himself. He can't seem to get this smirk off his face, much warmer than he usually smirks at everyone, and he takes the opportunity to run his fingers through the ends of Jacob's hair against his neck. When he's totally sober there will have to be some boundary lines drawn, but for now he's happy like this.]

Well, I like to be sure I'm serious about the merchandise. It's basic sense, Frye— [Hmm.] Jacob.

[Jacob scoffs at "merchandise," but any retort he could have had was gone in a single use of his name. It's astonishing, really, how easily he can make him light up like the sun.]

I suppose I don't have basic sense, Wynert. [Ha ha,] I just knew I liked you and your lips looked soft. I was wrong about that, but...

[That's even cuter and should be cause for arrest. Ned hums, looking at Jacob up close like this for another moment before he slides his hands down from his shoulders to grip his arms. It's time to Move, boy. Slowly, so nobody drops their whole huge assassin weight on anybody considerably tiny.]

You'll do better next time. Come on, I'm putting you behind my desk before you fall over. [Move with him, around the desk to the chair, sit...]

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