oneinfive | THEM FANCY LADS, CONT. (Nikolas/Winter)

[ There's a pause. If Nikolas listens closely, he should be able to hear the sound of voices murmuring: Winter's, of course, and Frest. Of course. It's been years since the active attempts on the Head Quertis's life, but private as this side room is, the Ward Quertis is never far.

Still, it's Winter who opens the door to peek out, and when he sees Nikolas his face lights in a shy little smile. He looks mildly surprised under that, as well, like perhaps he hadn't really expected Nikolas to show up after all. After that initial beat of hesitation, though, he steps aside and opens the door wider. ]

Come in, come in -- Frest was just leaving.

[ "Though I won't be far," the man says, and he fixes Nikolas with a rather pointed look before he heads out, leaving the two of them alone. ]

Of course you won't!

[He's so very chipper when he says that, his face brightening into a smile at Frest's back as he leaves. It's an interesting smile; it's not one of his sharp, manic, dangerous ones, but nor is it very genuine. It's a normal sarcastic smile, or as close as he gets.

It does soften at the very tail, even while Frest is still technically in the room, and by the time the door shuts and Nikolas turns to Winter, it's very nearly sweet. It's certainly a real one.]

He'll have a night of it with Amalia, surely, playing chess or whatever they might get up to. I can't feel too terrible for him being kicked out. Don't dare tell Amalia I said that; she might think I was complimenting her.

[And maybe he was, because his smile doesn't waver when he says it, only quirking with amusement instead.]

Well. Good evening to you, Great Quertis.

Oh -- oh! Good evening.

[ Winter is more than a little wide-eyed in response; it takes him a second too long to remember his manners: he bobs his head in a quick abbreviated bow. Nikolas's smiles have gotten softer over the past few months -- Winter knows, he's been closely watching that gradual transformation -- but it doesn't mean he's any less surprised or appreciative to see it. Nikolas has a lovely smile when he means it.

After a few more seconds of staring (which aren't long in the grand scheme of things, but long enough when one has spent one's entire life being hyper aware of the responses and actions of others), he draws himself up, clearing his throat a little. ]

And welcome! Ah, if you'd like, I could fetch you a drink, or -- of course, you may sit if you'd like, anywhere you'd like--

Don't go offering me things like that, my dear Winter. I will take advantage of them, and you know it.

[He could mean the drinking or the sitting. In fact, he doesn't clarify because he means the latter, and it's safer to mean the former. Winter knows how he is with drink. He doesn't necessarily know that Nikolas would leap at the chance to take that offer and shoot back with, in your lap, perhaps?

Though he may soon, because it's hard not to simply say it. Nikolas had hoped that deflecting it would rid him of that urge, but it hasn't.

He does sweep over to the chair he knows is Winter's, even; it might easily be joking. The smile on his face is certainly jovial! He rests a heavy hand on the leather back, testing the feel of the carved wood and soft upholstery with his fingertips. If there's the tiniest bit of suggestion in that, let Winter see it for himself.]

[ He thinks he sees something suggestive in that, but he honestly doesn't trust himself to be entirely sure. It's not a bad thing overall -- Winter's certainly imagined worse over the years. And those, at least, he'd been able to safely keep sectioned away in the realm of fantasy; Nikolas had made his distaste clear years ago. It hasn't actually kept Winter from wanting, but at least he's been able to separate it from reality.

Until recently, at least. Until Nikolas started warming up, treating Winter like a friend instead of someone to be barely tolerated.

A few seconds later, though, Winter shakes his head as if to clear it and smiles. Like before, it's flawless and polite: a perfect host's smile. Nikolas is the guest, both in the Quertis estate and now in Winter's room; if he wants to take Winter's chair, it isn't polite, but it's still within acceptable bounds. ]

Unfortunately, I only have a limited range of things I might offer you. Go ahead; I'll fetch a drink.

[ And then he turns his back, deliberately, to let Nikolas make that decision on his own. ]

[Sigh. Nikolas does sigh, though he keeps it to himself, not especially wanting Winter to hear it for once. It's not a performative sigh; he's genuinely a bit frustrated, with himself. A vague malaise sort of frustration, not just with this moment, but with every past action of his that led to it. Winter can hardly be blamed for rejecting him . . .

When Winter turns again, he'll find Nikolas not sitting in his chair, but politely in the one next to it.]

Ah, was the one not to your liking?

[ He says it almost gently as he sets the glasses down, and then the bottle of wine, before he settles himself into his own chair. There is just a few seconds where he tucks himself up completely, his legs under him and his arms loosely curled, before he straightens himself back up to a more proper posture. It's not defensive, for perhaps a rare once; Winter's used to curling himself up small(er) and tucking himself into his spaces, especially in the privacy of his own room. It's a bit of an adjustment having someone else there at all.

Once he's straightened up, though, he pours. ]

Or should I apologize for the lack of entertainment?

Not at all. I could watch your backside for hours.

[Oh, Holy Mother, he went directly from lamenting his own failures as a person to diving right back into them head first, didn't he!

Nikolas smiles. He thinks very hard, though very quickly—he has experience in it!—on what kind of smile to make it be, and in the end he lands on "awkward." It would be all too easy to make it sharp and painful, to let Winter believe the comment had been a cruel jab. Or he could make it salacious, and let Winter know exactly how much he did want him, genuinely; perhaps that would change the course of things right here.

But what he truly feels, deep down, is awkward about what he just said, and in a grand concession to becoming an honest man, he lets that show on his face.

There is all of the amusement in it, too, that he feels with himself.]

You-- I beg your pardon?

[ Winter's head snaps towards Nikolas at that, that sort of incredulous did you really just say that? reaction that has gotten him several times in their past. But the expression on Nikolas's face being actually awkward instead of cruel (even jokingly so, given Winter's own confused feelings) is... definitely unexpected. He's left floundering for a few seconds, which all feel almost intolerably long as he tries to figure out how to respond to that at all.

And that's clear on his own face, he knows that much; while his tutors might have despaired of him ever actually managing a complete neutral mask, he knows he's gotten much better about it over the years... when he's actually acting in an official capacity. As the Heir -- or the Head, now -- it comes much more easily; but in a situation like this, as Winter, he's confused and thrown and maybe, just a little tiny bit hopeful.

Never mind that part. It's not going to go anywhere. He clears his throat instead. ]

[Well! Now they're both awkward, aren't they! It could be a worse outcome than that. Nikolas holds Winter's gaze, and then he can't help himself: he laughs, gently, shaking his head and breaking the spell. It isn't one of his mocking laughs, any more than it was one of his mocking smiles. He can only hope that Winter will see his feelings for what they are, as much as Nikolas would deserve it if he didn't. Which is entirely. He would entirely deserve that, and he knows it.]

—Ha ha! I would apologize for being forward, my dear, but seeing as I am myself, you might go thinking I've fallen ill if I ever apologized for such a thing. Well. I will take that risk anyhow, in telling you that I meant no harm saying it.

More than ill, I would worry that some imposter had come and stolen away the proper Nikolas Avis instead. Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?

[ He hesitates for just a second over my friend. They are friends by now, aren't they? However rocky and unpleasant their early childhoods had been, now that they're adults... it was something his mother had always counseled him might happen, and he likes to think she was correct. (Just like she was about so many things.)

But he does manage to try and keep his tone light, sliding in his own chair and tucking himself up small. It's another bad habit that he has to forcibly remind himself to avoid when he's in public. Since they're not, he allows himself this. ]

Ah, there's a thought, isn't there.

[The words sound vague, but warm—they're placeholders, really, while Nikolas lets his brain indulge in the words my friend. No matter that he knows he would like more; my friend is beautiful on its own, and more than he deserves besides. He knows how his expression looks, in that moment, and wonders if Winter sees too.

But then it slides away, because it must. Nikolas tilts himself in "his" chair to face Winter, still smiling.]

I imagine a great many people would be more than happy to see me spirited off by some doppelganger. You must realize, between myself and that alien Nikolas Avis, I must be what would be considered the "evil" one. It simply could not be otherwise.

Perhaps not. But I would not be one of that number, I will tell you so now. Those who have not given you the chance to show how you've changed are not the ones you should be worrying about. I, however, would know very well.

[ Very, very well. Perhaps it's only hubris, but he likes to think that his word might count for more than most. It's certainly an exaggeration to say that their childhood troubles were a well-known thing, but at least among their own circle... ]

Rather than be spirited away, you will just have to change yourself.

Oh, you're scolding me already. Here I am for a nice quiet evening, and you're scolding me. I may as well have gone off with Amalia for the night!

[Of course he's smiling, though. He can't bring himself to be upset. Not when the meaning behind the words is quite clear: Winter believes in him, is invested in him, wants him to stay. It's harder to tease this way than it would be to lean in and kiss him on the cheek, an urge he has for about the dozenth time today, right now.]

Well. That is why they sent me to you for all of this, isn't it. Among other reasons.

They send you to me because I am the only one that has any modicum of authority over the rest of you four! Though Ophelia carries herself far better.

[ It's self-deprecating, like usual, but there's more humor to it than usual. He ducks his head a little, an embarrassed smile tugging at his mouth. Honestly, even if Nikolas's words could be a jab, the way he says it makes it feel less of that and more of a private joke between friends. ]

Perhaps it's meant to whip me into shape as well.

You just may have something there.

[It's fondly teasing, a joke, but the truth is, as soon as Winter says it, Nikolas can see how it may be a real possibility. Winter could use some experience in handling the authority he has. Perhaps it's hypocritical of Nikolas to think so, but it's also the truth; he can admit the both of them are woefully underprepared for all of this mess, in different ways.

It really does work out, doesn't it?]

Holy Mother's tits, I do hate admitting His Majesty is something of a genius, but from time to time I must. As much as I loathe to give him that! Don't dare tell him I said so.

[ Winter laughs at that, though he's a bit more embarrassed this time. His ears feel warm. There's no denying the fact, though, especially to someone who knows him as well as Nikolas does. As much as Winter has been throwing himself into his work since his abrupt ascension, he's definitely still faltering in that one key place. ]

Do you know, saying something like that might get us both in trouble... but between the two of us, I have to agree. He might be a little mad, but he's certainly a clever one.

I confess, too, that I'm glad of it. It's reassuring.

Me, or His Majesty? I say I don't know which of those is a madder thought. Are either of us very comforting people? I am going to have to keep an eye on you, my Winter. You just may be going mad under all of this pressure.

[Of course he's joking. But of course he's also genuinely worried about Winter overworking himself; he knows how that runs in the family, along with early deaths, and he has many, many reasons for being anxious at that thought. So, while it comes out teasing enough, his voice and expression gentle after he laughs, and he even dares to reach the distance between them and place his hand on Winter's forearm where it curls around his legs.]

I do hope that you aren't, and that if you are, you won't be fool enough to try and bear that alone. Hmm?

[ He looks down at that hand on his arm for a few seconds of pure surprise, then up at Nikolas's face again. Even with the improvement in their relationship, it's a strange and lovely rare thing to be touched this gently, especially by Nikolas Avis.

After a moment he smiles as gently as possible. ]

I cannot make any concrete promise, I'm afraid. But I've seen how poorly it can end, and I don't wish to end up that way.

[ He hesitates a moment, then covers Nikolas's hand briefly with his. ]

I will try.

. . . Do try, then. I have faith in your will, Winter. And if your will does not lie in taking good care of yourself—well. Well! Then I will simply have to go and do it for you, won't I!

[His hand feels hot where Winter's covers it; his chest feels hot, too, his throat dry, and not for want of wine. (Maybe a little for that.) But he manages to meet Winter's eyes, and for once he can hardly guess how his own expression looks.]

You could try, at least; I would not tell you no.

[ He says that easily and honestly enough. No matter what the situation, he is grateful that anyone would care enough to want to look after him -- the fact that it's Nikolas, specifically, is even more of a thrill, private as it is.

And when Nikolas looks at him, he can almost convince himself that Nikolas feels the same. It's a wistful feeling, but for once, not a bad one. ]

I've heard often enough from Ophelia that I am very bad at such things.

Don't dare tell her I said this, either, but she's quite right. Look at me spending my evening admitting to the virtues of others! No one would believe it of me. If anyone asks, tell them we spent the evening in vice, not virtue.

[Of course, that's probably a bad idea, but at least he manages to make it sound like a true joke this time. Not an unfriendly one! Though he'd have to admit quite a bit of curiosity as to how Winter will react to hearing it.

He does withdraw his hand, after a brief squeeze. Some things are perhaps too much.]

I'm rather certain that if I said that, no one would believe me. I am hardly the sort of person anyone wishes to commit any vices with!

[ He responds to what sounds like a joke with one of his own, also more truth than anything else. Winter knows very well what he looks like, and how poorly he scores in popularity; every Fete since his sixteenth birthday has been the same. If people approach him, it's to make a political connection, not a personal one. ]

If you'd rather, I could say that I stepped out and you had your fun with one of my maids.

Winter. My dear, dearest Winter. Lord Quertis. Do you honestly believe that blasphemy you've just gone and spouted at me?

[No no no, wait, they need to handle this first. It's very important that Winter understand that he's fuckable, you see!

He can't truly believe such a thing. Can he? Nikolas has already committed vices with him! Whether it's going too far to imply he'd like to commit more—that hardly matters as much as clearing up this misunderstanding!

No, it matters more, of course, but Nikolas is refusing to acknowledge that.]

...Yes?

[ He's more confused than anything by Nikolas's response. While he hasn't forgotten their encounters, it's been the better part of a year since any sort of actual innuendo, and... well. It's Nikolas. Winter's personal feelings haven't blinded him to Nikolas's habits and preferences. There's a part of him that still occasionally marvels that it happened at all, more than once!

But there's no point in thinking (hoping?) anything will happen again. Winter's not Nikolas's type. He's known that for a long time, even without the issue of his sex. ]

You know me; you know I would not say something unless I believed it true.

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