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[teaserving]

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[teaserving]

Something like that.

[That earns a bark of laughter and he finishes his glass swiftly.]

Well, I didn't plan on anything stronger, so unless you got something you wanna share we're shit out of luck.

[jurisprudence]

I'd really rather not. Merely an observation of the road we were threatening to go down.

[Although...maybe. It's already an unprecedented night. Who knows where conversation might take them.]

What happened with you and your savior?

[teaserving]

Damn, and here I hoped you'd have something stronger. Whatever, guess that's what bars are for.

[He scoffs at the question, leaning his chin into his hand before settling his weight against the table.]

Nothing. I told him how I felt because I didn't want to lose the chance. But that's about it. Granted, we weren't in a great position for him to decide to do anything, but... he also doesn't owe me anything.

[No. It's the other way around. He'll always owe Bruno everything.]

[jurisprudence]

I never said I didn't, only that I'd rather not. The narrow cabinet to the left of the stove.

[He motions in that direction vaguely with one hand, keeping his still partially-filled wine glass in the other.]

Well, at least you acted. There's something to be said for that.

[teaserving]

Well now, that's awfully generous of you.

[And he gets up for that cabinet. Hell yeah.]

Eh, I suppose. It was more than I thought I'd ever do. I kinda just expect that I don't have much luck in that department.

[Suffice it to say, his love life has rarely ever been a successful one.]

[jurisprudence]

[There isn't much variety, but never let it be said that Edgeworth doesn't buy the good stuff. Tucked away neatly in the cabinet are a bottle of the brandy he favors, and a smaller one of spiced rum. No sense in having more than that on hand, really — he lives alone, after all.]

I gather you're not altogether interested in more casual affairs. You're the sort to commit to one person, completely and utterly?

[teaserving]

[The spiced rum is the one that catches Abbacchio's eye. It'll be a nicer flavor than just straight up brandy to him anyway, and won't take much to make him feel warmer.]

Not necessarily. Keeping it casual is the easiest thing to do.

[Emotions are very hard already, and he more or less accepts that his romantic preferences won't go far.]

[jurisprudence]

That's what I thought I was getting into. Then he ignored the part where he was supposed to vacate the premises in the morning.

[He laughs again, under his breath. What a way for a casual hookup to backfire.]

Well. As you can see, he got around to it eventually.

[teaserving]

You fucked Caesar?

[He blurts that out with almost a disgusted look on his face. GET SOME TASTE MAN.]

[jurisprudence]

[.............................]

I never mentioned my roommate by name.

[so how the FUCK did you know wh]

[teaserving]

[FUCK]

You didn't have to. I only encountered one other Italian here. Process of elimination.

[this is the part where he'd end up with two psychelocks]

[jurisprudence]

[what the FUCK is a psycholock]

What is it you don't like about him? For my part, I could name a number of things.

[teaserving]

Starts fights without a good reason, can't own up to his own flaws, has to bully someone while they're cursed to be as small as my familiar. Bullshit like that.

Couldn't fucking stand him. I'm honestly surprised that he was your roommate.

[jurisprudence]

Agreed. He was also insufferable, shallow, and overbearingly amorous. Truthfully, I think the only reason he stayed is because the state of my kitchen offended his Italian sensibilities, so he hung around out of spite.

[But he still goes quiet a minute, regardless, and eyes the dwindling wine in his glass.]

...But it was nice to come home from a day's work and just. Have a dinner waiting. No extra effort on my part. To not have to take care of every little thing on my own.

[teaserving]

[Abbacchio is quiet for a moment, if only so that he could take a shot from the rum he's helped himself to. It at least manages to make him feel a bit... softer. Able to deal with this.]

Despite what a pain in the ass he was, it's still awful to come home to an empty place and being left to your own devices.

It, uh. ...It doesn't have to stay that way, though. I'm sure someone would be glad to help you out.

[ugh he's awful at this. what if he just brings edgeworth dinner every day secretly without notice, that's mature and helpful right]

[jurisprudence]

Before we get into that —

[Briskly, he tosses back the last of his wine and extends the glass, motioning to the rum bottle.]

Give me three fingers, and then ask me outright what I know you're wondering. Yes, I slept with him.

[teaserving]

[Without any real hesitation, he obeys, pouring about the portion that's asked for.]

There are a lot of things I'm wondering, Edgeworth. But that answers one of 'em.

Do you want to fuck me, then? [He should say that more nicely, probably. But he doesn't.]

[jurisprudence]

[...And cue him choking on air. Impressively.]

I — meant, ask me why. Is. What I thought you wanted to know.

[...wait hold on
wait back up
hang on fool there's a proposition hanging in the balance here
don't just skip over that good grief]

...I. Wouldn't be opposed.

[teaserving]

I could see it for any number of reasons. You thought he was handsome, a good distraction, or something like that. I don't really care about that part. I've done worse.

[A stellar compliment for Caesar Zeppeli: "I've done worse."]

Well, that's funny, because I wouldn't be opposed either.

I like you, Edgeworth. And I could see myself really respecting you.

[jurisprudence]

I hope that's not your best pickup line — "I could see myself really respecting you."

[somewhere halfway across avalon franziska von karma just instinctively went "GROSS"]

How do you usually...prefer it? Do you like to approach or be approached?

[He's back to swirling his rum in his glass again, watching the hue of the liquid as the light filters through it.]

[teaserving]

Oh, just wait for it.

[He finally sets both the bottle and glass down, and he smiles wryly.]

Interesting way of putting it. But let me explain it this way: I like doing what someone else tells me to do. Someone I respect, you see.

I don't really care which way it goes for me. You tell me what you want, and I'll try to make it happen for you.

[jurisprudence]

I admit I'm not...overly practiced in this particular area, but — giving direction is something I'm familiar with. As is expecting my directions to be followed properly.

[He takes a deep drink of his spiced rum, polishing off a good portion of it and letting it burn smoky-sweet down the back of his throat before arranging his footing around Pess and standing up.

He's shorter than Leone Abbacchio. He wonders if that will detract from the other man's fun, or perhaps in some way enhance it.]

Come here and kiss me, then.

[teaserving]

[There's a brief, crooked smile on Abbacchio's face at the command. Rolling his shoulders back, he bends down slightly, reaching out to take Edgeworth by the chin.]

See, just like that.

[Genuinely, he doesn't care how Edgeworth wants to go about this. Right now, he's pleased by this alone, and he leans in to press his lips firmly against Edgeworth's, completely uncaring of how it'll smear his lipstick across his mouth. If anything, he plans to mark him up as much as he's allowed to.]

[jurisprudence]

[Too late, he realizes what Abbacchio is up to; the force behind the kiss is pleasant, just the way he likes it, but it isn't until he feels the slip of something tacky on his lip that it occurs to him — the people he tends to kiss don't usually wear lipstick, but this is what he's going to have to contend with now. Muss and fuss and mess.

Well, at least he's wearing casual clothes instead of something more important. At least his work suit and cravat won't get stained.]

Oh, no. That was nothing.

[Long hair, too, isn't something his partners usually boast. But there are advantages to it — namely, the ability to reach up and twist his fingers through the strands, exerting enough pressure to be felt without actually forcing him to move his head away.]

Tell me about the best sex you've ever had. What did your partner do?

[teaserving]

[It's the smallest pressure on his hair, but he likes it. Just enough to pry him back, his lips not even inches from Edgeworth's.

The best sex he had, his partner. He thinks of Florentino and his kind face, his unwavering sense of justice. It's a sharp pain in his chest, but it's also a fond memory. Abbacchio lips his lips, smeared with dark purple, its clean edges now ruined.]

He was writing a report, and I was getting impatient. So he had me suck his dick, keep it ready for him while he finished up work. I couldn't touch myself, but he'd grind his boot on me off and on. Just to edge me along until he was done.