Oddly enough he doesn't mind that he isn't paying him more attention than anyone else. Mostly because he does enjoy watching him work and appreciating the way he does things so effortlessly.
Honest is honest, as well, he doesn't mind the way he moves and doesn't flirt with him as he goes. Earnest and attractive even then. All attention is focused on only his drink and Kip, not remotely caring about the rest of the rabble.
Once he returns to him, he smiles in turn. He has, indeed, finished the bottle but other than seeming a little more loose and comfortable, he seems perfectly fine. "I'm perfect, actually. Merely killing an hour until I take a gorgeous man home." He quips, seems that he has absolutely no inclination of backing out of this and, in fact, has been anticipating it instead. "May have thought a few things that may be fun to do, but nothing I can say in public."
"Yeah? Do I know this gorgeous guy?" Kip jokes as he tosses the empty bottle into a bin beside him, along with the quark he had set aside. It isn't like he could have taken it home with him, but it would've gone a long way to making sure some unsuspecting bartender didn't get showered in more bar juice if any excess wine leaked before the trash got dumped at the end of the night. That only has to happen one, then they get more mindful of dumping out the remnants.
"Could feel them on me, you know. Your eyes." By this time, there is only one stubborn customer left at the front, but they seem more interesting in flirting with the staff member trying to get them to vacate the premises than listening to their conversation. "Maybe you could wine and dine me on the way back, love a good story." And it is titillating, knowing someone is thinking of him in the regard.
"I think you've killed that hour. Gonna have to kick you out soon, I just have to clean up and we're free to talk." The way he says it, all drawled out in his accent, hides nothing. Whatever they plan on doing tonight, talking has little to do with it.
"Perhaps," he returns in the same joke of a tone as he glances towards the bottle as it's tossed out. It doesn't matter to him what he does to it, but he just has to be curious as to what he's doing at the barest minimum. Nor would he be terribly surprised to learn that that had happened before, it's not like it's not a hazard of the job, after all.
A brow raises slowly at the next set of words before he shrugs, unable to hide the now seemingly natural smile that's pulled to his lips. "Oh? I was hoping that you might, a little distraction at work never killed anyone. ... Well, mostly." He could think of a few ways, but that doesn't matter. His attention is fully on Kip, thankfully, not remotely concerned about the one customer flirting with the person trying to get him out. "I could if you are hungry," he starts, letting the moment sit for but a moment before he picks it back up, "at least in that regard, but I have a sneaking suspicion that's not what you mean."
Ah, right. He can't just hang around while he cleans up, how annoying. "I'll be outside, then. You'll know which." Slowly he pushes himself to stand before pausing and setting a card down on the bar top, "for what I owe and add however much for yourself or the others, if you pool tips, you wish. I'm good for it." ... Which is more of a flex than he realizes, given he's not seeming like he's saying it in that manner. "Just bring it out with you."
"Mm, I'm always hungry." It sounds innocent enough, could be perceived that way by anyone in earshot, but the way he sizes him up after says it all. He isn't talking about food, at least nothing nutritious. His brows furrow when he drops the card, and he looks to be thinking about something, before he nods and picks it up. So, he's that kind of guy, huh?
"You know," Kip says as he emerges from the front door about seven minutes later, pulling his jacket on and popping the collar to stave off the chill in the air. "A guy who gives a struggling bartender his card and tells him to pick a number? Must be a world of trouble." Just as expected, he produces the card and a receipt, holding it between his fingers before offering it to him. He hasn't gouged him. If anything, he took significantly less than expected, just the bare minimum.
"I appreciate the offer, and the money would be great, but it's not the same if I don't earn it myself. All I did was open the bottle, you polished it off yourself. Where to?" After stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat, he turns on a heel and waits patiently for his directions.
"I can't say I'm surprised," he teases in turn, knowing full well what he means. "We'll see what's open, then." Fair cover story if needed. And he is absolutely that type of person, but more that he knows the money his family has will never really run dry unless the world ends at this point so why not help where he can?
Predictably he's still bundled up in his coat, waiting patiently until he's handed the card and receipt. "What makes you think that?" Oh. That's why. Huh.
"If that's how you feel about it, then I won't force it on you." Thankfully he understands that mentality even as he motions for him to follow him to a nearby parking lot. "I have a space nearby, even if I know it's stupid to have a car here. I need it to get to work." Especially in his line of work, at that.
... Honestly, it probably makes sense as to why he leads him to a parking lot that's monitored as he leads him to a fucking Maserati of all things. All black but thankfully he's at least practical enough that it's an SUV type versus some supercar nonsense.
"It's how I feel," he adds on for emphasis, thankful that he doesn't push the issue. So, he's a guy with money that doesn't flaunt it, it's a refreshing take on the type of people who usually come in and try to do that. They butter him up and, when he turns down their advances, they show their true colors. Funny, then, that he never thought to do the same to Pucci. Turn him down, that is, he must be worse off than he thought.
"Your words, not mine," Kip chimes in, grin just a step away from being a shit-eating one. "I'm not going to rag on someone for having a car here, makes things easier. Or you hate yourself. Guess it depends on how far you have to drive and how much you love sitting in gridlock."
Kip takes one look at the car, scoffs (but not for the reason one might think), and raises his arms. "You want me to get in that? Do you have newspapers to put down, or maybe you could pop the trunk? D'you really want your seats smelling like a bar? Not sure I can foot the cleaning bill."
A priest with money at that, which is perhaps the funniest part of this scenario. But other than the car he really doesn't seem to show it at all. Clothing is subtle so even if it was expensive it wouldn't really stand out, jewelry is just a simple crucifix as to be expected, that sort of thing. Nor did he even flaunt it with his alcohol, merely stating he had enough to cover the bottle simply so he didn't need to worry about taking it back after pouring his drink. All the flirting being natural things, too.
"I'm well aware of how the locals feel about cars," he muses quietly, unable to hide his grin. "In my defense, I had this car when I was in Florida and little reason to give it up even here." Means he could easily go elsewhere in this state where cars were more common, too.
He pauses when Kip throw his hands in the air, brow raising slowly. "If I had concerns about that I wouldn't have been flirting with a bartender. These seats have seen worse than smelling like a bar, now please shut the fuck up and get in." The last part is clearly not seriously being upset about his actions as he presses a button to open the doors and climb in. "I'm not feeling like sucking your dick and getting railed outside, so." Get in the car, Kip.
"Not all of us hate them. Just, if you come from money, people usually go for a car service rather than sitting in traffic for an extra hour," Kip muses, then pauses, backtracking a bit. "Not that I'm judging. Nothing wrong with being independent and I guess you don't have to sweat the gas prices." Being filthy rich and all, Kip has an eye for things like this. Even if he hadn't seen the car, he would've known.
Kip snorts, holding his hands up in defeat. "Remember that when you get into your car tomorrow and it smells like grenadine and cranberry juice." But he does as he's told, slipping into the passenger seat while whistling at the crisp interior. He's seen pictures of the inside of one, but he never thought his ass would be plopped into the seat of one.
"Oh, no, that's definitely a second date kind of activity," Kip jokes, giving him a wink as he settles into the seat and slips his seatbelt on. He makes no secret of the way he occasionally glances over, sizing him up. Color him impressed, he wouldn't have pegged him as a bottom, but that doesn't sour the mood at all. If anything, he is even more intrigued.
"And I'd rather not have to deal with a car service if I want to have a quickie in the backseat." He responds back, unable to hide that grin. Is he joking or serious? Who knows, he'll have to figure that out at some point or another. He would have absolutely figured it out once they get to his home, but at least his use of money seems more... practical than anything else? Weird.
"It'll be a nice reminder of the bartender I brought home the night before." See? Think positively, Kip. It's not the newest model and shows signs of having been used, but still very, very well taken care of, at least. And if he's looking around the car itself he may spy what seems to be an ID badge of some sort in the cup holder. Not that his card didn't have his name on it, but this one spells it out as well and outs him as working in Queensboro Correctional Facility and as a chaplain. Well, he didn't lie about any of that at least.
"Then that'll have to wait until it's warmer out, Florida native and all." He can't help but tease him back before starting the car after putting his own seatbelt on and heading out. Thankfully the streets aren't too busy and it shouldn't take long. So unless Kip wants to ask more questions, it'll be a rather short ride to the gated parking area of a luxury-looking highrise.
"Quickie?" Kip snorts, shooting him an amused look. "You don't strike me as the type of guy who likes it quick. I'm not," he adds casually, giving him a vision of what the night has to offer. It won't be quick, he intends to take his time with him and, whether he realizes it or not, he'll likely repeat the process several times throughout the night.
"Charming me even when you know it's a sure thing? Should I be worried?" He teases, shifting in his seat so he can watch him more closely. He takes in the way the city lights dance off of his face as they pass them, lighting up that beautifully dark skin. Truthfully, he can't wait to taste it, to have him ride him until he's so far gone that the only name he can remember is his. The badge is noted, and he tucks that information away for later.
"Yeah? I don't know, I think I could keep you warm enough. Or distract you enough that you don't even notice it." He's confident for a reason but, when he notices how short the drive was, he laughs. "Fucking rich people," comes the playful jab, "next time you should take the scenic route, really makes warming up more exciting."
"Not generally, but sometimes I just don't have the time depending on what's going on at work." Oh, he won't complain about any of that at all since he generally prefers things to take their time and be absolutely exhausted by the end of it all. He glances over at him with a soft huff of a laugh. "And good, I don't have work tomorrow so we have all the time in the world."
Worried? Oh come on now. "Only if you regret it later, I suppose." Truthfully, he's pretty sure outside of the whole "money" aspect of himself, there's not much he really should be worried about. He's been entirely up-front with him about everything and he's a pretty open book as far as answering questions go. Thankfully he does keep his attention mostly on the road and even in these lights it's probably clear that this man also takes very good care of himself, probably one of those people with a multi-step skincare routine.
Once he parks he bites back a laugh, turning the car off and shifting to actually look at him properly with a raised brow. "Oh? Did you need to be warmed up? Could have fooled me." He certainly didn't need to be while watching him work and that bottle of wine. "I could always hit every single button in the elevator to make it take longer if you'd like." ... Admittedly, he's not even sure if he could last that long without having to do something, but at this time of night he's fairly certain no one would intrude on them anyway.
Carefully, he picks up the badge and dangles it in front of his face, twirling it between his fingers. If he makes a move to grab it, he leans back and holds it just out of reach, though it's only a ploy to get him a little closer. "Yeah, well, now my imagination is running wild. Maybe you can tell me about it sometime." Anytime else, other than right now. To sell the point, he leans over, tucks the badge into his pocket, and tucks his face into the crook of his neck to murmur against the skin.
"Lead the way? Otherwise, I might have to take you to the backseat." And he will do it, judging by the heat in his eyes when he pulls away just enough to look at him with a lazy smile. "Life's too short to have regrets, I probably don't have to tell a chaplain that, though." Spiritual journeys, and the like.
"Me? No, born and raised here, this is practically a heatwave." With snow on the horizon for the morning, tomorrow would probably be even less agreeable with his newfound possibly-into-some-shit-shit Floridan hookup. Huffing out a laugh, he takes the initiative to get out of the car first, actually walking over to open the door for him.
"This night's gonna be predictable as fuck if you keep sharing all my trade secrets like this. How long do you think you could hold on for? Every floor?" For one reason or another, he doesn't think so. Not to toot his own horn, but no one has ever left a session with him feeling unsatisfied. Curious, he flicks his attention down to the front of Enrico's pants, humming with unabashed interest. Unnoticeable to anyone not looking directly at it, sure, but evidently, he's given him a lot to mull over during the short drive.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2026-04-27 11:11 am (UTC)Honest is honest, as well, he doesn't mind the way he moves and doesn't flirt with him as he goes. Earnest and attractive even then. All attention is focused on only his drink and Kip, not remotely caring about the rest of the rabble.
Once he returns to him, he smiles in turn. He has, indeed, finished the bottle but other than seeming a little more loose and comfortable, he seems perfectly fine. "I'm perfect, actually. Merely killing an hour until I take a gorgeous man home." He quips, seems that he has absolutely no inclination of backing out of this and, in fact, has been anticipating it instead. "May have thought a few things that may be fun to do, but nothing I can say in public."
no subject
Date: 2026-04-28 10:54 pm (UTC)"Could feel them on me, you know. Your eyes." By this time, there is only one stubborn customer left at the front, but they seem more interesting in flirting with the staff member trying to get them to vacate the premises than listening to their conversation. "Maybe you could wine and dine me on the way back, love a good story." And it is titillating, knowing someone is thinking of him in the regard.
"I think you've killed that hour. Gonna have to kick you out soon, I just have to clean up and we're free to talk." The way he says it, all drawled out in his accent, hides nothing. Whatever they plan on doing tonight, talking has little to do with it.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-28 11:03 pm (UTC)A brow raises slowly at the next set of words before he shrugs, unable to hide the now seemingly natural smile that's pulled to his lips. "Oh? I was hoping that you might, a little distraction at work never killed anyone. ... Well, mostly." He could think of a few ways, but that doesn't matter. His attention is fully on Kip, thankfully, not remotely concerned about the one customer flirting with the person trying to get him out. "I could if you are hungry," he starts, letting the moment sit for but a moment before he picks it back up, "at least in that regard, but I have a sneaking suspicion that's not what you mean."
Ah, right. He can't just hang around while he cleans up, how annoying. "I'll be outside, then. You'll know which." Slowly he pushes himself to stand before pausing and setting a card down on the bar top, "for what I owe and add however much for yourself or the others, if you pool tips, you wish. I'm good for it." ... Which is more of a flex than he realizes, given he's not seeming like he's saying it in that manner. "Just bring it out with you."
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 01:36 am (UTC)"You know," Kip says as he emerges from the front door about seven minutes later, pulling his jacket on and popping the collar to stave off the chill in the air. "A guy who gives a struggling bartender his card and tells him to pick a number? Must be a world of trouble." Just as expected, he produces the card and a receipt, holding it between his fingers before offering it to him. He hasn't gouged him. If anything, he took significantly less than expected, just the bare minimum.
"I appreciate the offer, and the money would be great, but it's not the same if I don't earn it myself. All I did was open the bottle, you polished it off yourself. Where to?" After stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat, he turns on a heel and waits patiently for his directions.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 02:25 am (UTC)Predictably he's still bundled up in his coat, waiting patiently until he's handed the card and receipt. "What makes you think that?" Oh. That's why. Huh.
"If that's how you feel about it, then I won't force it on you." Thankfully he understands that mentality even as he motions for him to follow him to a nearby parking lot. "I have a space nearby, even if I know it's stupid to have a car here. I need it to get to work." Especially in his line of work, at that.
... Honestly, it probably makes sense as to why he leads him to a parking lot that's monitored as he leads him to a fucking Maserati of all things. All black but thankfully he's at least practical enough that it's an SUV type versus some supercar nonsense.
no subject
Date: 2026-05-01 06:43 am (UTC)"Your words, not mine," Kip chimes in, grin just a step away from being a shit-eating one. "I'm not going to rag on someone for having a car here, makes things easier. Or you hate yourself. Guess it depends on how far you have to drive and how much you love sitting in gridlock."
Kip takes one look at the car, scoffs (but not for the reason one might think), and raises his arms. "You want me to get in that? Do you have newspapers to put down, or maybe you could pop the trunk? D'you really want your seats smelling like a bar? Not sure I can foot the cleaning bill."
no subject
Date: 2026-05-01 11:00 am (UTC)"I'm well aware of how the locals feel about cars," he muses quietly, unable to hide his grin. "In my defense, I had this car when I was in Florida and little reason to give it up even here." Means he could easily go elsewhere in this state where cars were more common, too.
He pauses when Kip throw his hands in the air, brow raising slowly. "If I had concerns about that I wouldn't have been flirting with a bartender. These seats have seen worse than smelling like a bar, now please shut the fuck up and get in." The last part is clearly not seriously being upset about his actions as he presses a button to open the doors and climb in. "I'm not feeling like sucking your dick and getting railed outside, so." Get in the car, Kip.
no subject
Date: 2026-05-03 11:39 pm (UTC)Kip snorts, holding his hands up in defeat. "Remember that when you get into your car tomorrow and it smells like grenadine and cranberry juice." But he does as he's told, slipping into the passenger seat while whistling at the crisp interior. He's seen pictures of the inside of one, but he never thought his ass would be plopped into the seat of one.
"Oh, no, that's definitely a second date kind of activity," Kip jokes, giving him a wink as he settles into the seat and slips his seatbelt on. He makes no secret of the way he occasionally glances over, sizing him up. Color him impressed, he wouldn't have pegged him as a bottom, but that doesn't sour the mood at all. If anything, he is even more intrigued.
no subject
Date: 2026-05-04 12:04 am (UTC)"It'll be a nice reminder of the bartender I brought home the night before." See? Think positively, Kip. It's not the newest model and shows signs of having been used, but still very, very well taken care of, at least. And if he's looking around the car itself he may spy what seems to be an ID badge of some sort in the cup holder. Not that his card didn't have his name on it, but this one spells it out as well and outs him as working in Queensboro Correctional Facility and as a chaplain. Well, he didn't lie about any of that at least.
"Then that'll have to wait until it's warmer out, Florida native and all." He can't help but tease him back before starting the car after putting his own seatbelt on and heading out. Thankfully the streets aren't too busy and it shouldn't take long. So unless Kip wants to ask more questions, it'll be a rather short ride to the gated parking area of a luxury-looking highrise.
no subject
Date: 2026-05-06 06:17 am (UTC)"Charming me even when you know it's a sure thing? Should I be worried?" He teases, shifting in his seat so he can watch him more closely. He takes in the way the city lights dance off of his face as they pass them, lighting up that beautifully dark skin. Truthfully, he can't wait to taste it, to have him ride him until he's so far gone that the only name he can remember is his. The badge is noted, and he tucks that information away for later.
"Yeah? I don't know, I think I could keep you warm enough. Or distract you enough that you don't even notice it." He's confident for a reason but, when he notices how short the drive was, he laughs. "Fucking rich people," comes the playful jab, "next time you should take the scenic route, really makes warming up more exciting."
no subject
Date: 2026-05-06 12:53 pm (UTC)Worried? Oh come on now. "Only if you regret it later, I suppose." Truthfully, he's pretty sure outside of the whole "money" aspect of himself, there's not much he really should be worried about. He's been entirely up-front with him about everything and he's a pretty open book as far as answering questions go. Thankfully he does keep his attention mostly on the road and even in these lights it's probably clear that this man also takes very good care of himself, probably one of those people with a multi-step skincare routine.
Once he parks he bites back a laugh, turning the car off and shifting to actually look at him properly with a raised brow. "Oh? Did you need to be warmed up? Could have fooled me." He certainly didn't need to be while watching him work and that bottle of wine. "I could always hit every single button in the elevator to make it take longer if you'd like." ... Admittedly, he's not even sure if he could last that long without having to do something, but at this time of night he's fairly certain no one would intrude on them anyway.
jesus christ, i dragged ass on this one
Date: 2026-05-16 11:19 pm (UTC)"Lead the way? Otherwise, I might have to take you to the backseat." And he will do it, judging by the heat in his eyes when he pulls away just enough to look at him with a lazy smile. "Life's too short to have regrets, I probably don't have to tell a chaplain that, though." Spiritual journeys, and the like.
"Me? No, born and raised here, this is practically a heatwave." With snow on the horizon for the morning, tomorrow would probably be even less agreeable with his newfound possibly-into-some-shit-shit Floridan hookup. Huffing out a laugh, he takes the initiative to get out of the car first, actually walking over to open the door for him.
"This night's gonna be predictable as fuck if you keep sharing all my trade secrets like this. How long do you think you could hold on for? Every floor?" For one reason or another, he doesn't think so. Not to toot his own horn, but no one has ever left a session with him feeling unsatisfied. Curious, he flicks his attention down to the front of Enrico's pants, humming with unabashed interest. Unnoticeable to anyone not looking directly at it, sure, but evidently, he's given him a lot to mull over during the short drive.