dumbshow | Friends of Trains

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...]

Next time! I look forward to... next time. [Jacob positively beams, before he nearly steps over his own feet. He clutches Ned's arm to steady himself, cautiously following his lead to the chair. Try as he may to regain his senses, he can't stop laughing to himself.] You used my name.

[Ugh. At least he's making the effort to sit back just fine, because it's all he's good for.]

[Ah, here they go. Ned has the benefit of not falling over himself quite so much, instead spending this trek to his desk chair laughing at Jacob's effort. He's trying, no one is falling over, it's fine. Ned's head is only spinning a little by the time he deposits Jacob in the chair and leans back against the desk again, on the opposite side this time. He's just looking at Jacob, considering him...]

I did. Maybe I'll even do it again.

[Jacob might not like not kissing Ned at the moment, but at the very least the chair gives him the best view of him. He leans back, smiling stupidly, but with no smugness. He liked this. He really, truly was enjoying himself with no ulterior motives on either side.

He loves that so very much.] You should. You can keep calling me Frye on the streets, and Jacob in the... [He's not finishing that with a rhyme, he decides. Not after the polishing bit.] Here.

[It's still nice like this, even without kissing. Ned needs this little break, a moment to sit apart from Jacob and get some of his personal bubble back, even if the chair is close enough to the desk that he can nudge Jacob's knees with his leg. And he does that, right now. Here's hoping he'll still feel this good about tonight when he's stone cold sober.]

You're a real wordsmith, Jacob Frye. [two in one, a daring move,] And you can go on calling me whatever you want, since you never listen anyway. No one'll know you fancy me.

[There he goes, making fun of English accents again... And everyone will know Jacob fancies him, but not in a different way from before, so it still counts.]

But I know I fancy you. And you know I fancy you. That can be our little... [Wordsmith Jacob Frye strikes again. His teasing has gone over his head, and Jacob's focused on watching his knees in thought. Their little what? They had far too much to try and think deeply about it. He just knew he didn't want to call it secret, because that might make it sound like it's wrong. And that certainly wasn't what he felt it is at the moment.]

It can just be ours. [He concludes, nudging Ned's leg with one of his own. Theirs, Ned. That's important to him.] I think I'll keep using Ned. Sounds more of a privilege.

[Hmm, theirs. Ned gets it, honest - but there are always secrets. Even this; parading himself around as something of Jacob Frye's might as well be painting a target on his back for anyone who wanted to get at the Rooks in a new and original way. A target on his back to join the rest... Secrets are part of this seedy underground way of life, right or wrong or otherwise.

But broaching the subject of secrets is another thing Ned can leave until sobriety returns to them. For now: Jacob is sweet, and it makes his heart swell and warmth to spread out from his chest just to hear him say things like ours. This isn't like him, to go to pieces over some little bit of affection, but... He nudges Jacob's leg again.]

I've got a personal rule against making deals drunk. But since I already know I'll still wanna kiss you when I'm sober, I'll let it slide just this once. [Annnd... wink!! before he stands up from leaning on the desk and moves to stand over Jacob. He's so small he's just barely taller than Jacob sitting down, god... don't say a word.]

Ours. [Sounds good, sounds real good. That will do, leaving Ned time and opportunity to lean down and kiss him again.]

[Jacob's face hurt from how much he'd been grinning. He just couldn't stop, giddy off of the fact Ned liked him. He liked him and Jacob didn't feel terrible about it. As silly as it was, he'd been worried it'd be the case.

Instead, he's pulling his hands up to cup Ned's face and hold him into the kiss. This one he'd savor. He wasn't caught off-guard, and he actually knew what he was doing. For once.]

... So is wanting to kiss you a proper excuse to monopolize your time? Asking for a rook. [There it is,]

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