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WHO: Byerly & Vanadi
WHAT: The Morning After
WHEN: Backdated to Sonia's party
WHERE: Byerly's I think??
NOTES: it's post-sexy so whatever content warnings might be associated with that

[ It's been easy to fall into old habits, and it grows easier the longer he's in this world. Last night had been a dive straight back into them, all pleasant flirts, courtly dances, and good company. And then all the rest. Oh, it'd been good to lose himself for a while, to really appreciate another body in a way he hasn't in a while ...

... But he can't let go of all of his recent habits, and a keen discomfort sleeping next to a stranger is one of them. It's been a fitful and restless night, and just as the sun rises he decides he's willing to eschew manners and throw in the towel. He'll catch up with the man later, and make whatever apologies are necessary.

Vanadi sits himself up carefully, not quite willing to unduly disturb the form next to him. The man had been lovely company, there's no need to rouse him so early as this. He peels back the sheets, intending to collect his belongings, dress in the almost-dark, and see himself out. ]

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[ That earns Byerly a disgruntled look, transferred out to the world at large. Really, what an insult to breakfasts everywhere. He slows a little, reluctance suddenly entering his step, then sighs. ]

Maybe you had better show me to a kitchen.

[ A lifted eyebrow; his head swings round. ]

What? Why the change of heart?

[ He slows to a stop, eying By with a stiff irritation that really doesn't match an offer to make breakfast. ]

You clearly don't appreciate the meal, and so I can only assume no one here makes it correctly.

[ The eyebrow lifts further. He stops as well. ]

What a gracious offer, my dear.

[ Why the crankiness? ]

[ He studies him for a few more tight-lipped seconds, knowing perfectly well the prickly reluctance is ridiculous. It keeps up regardless. ]

Lead the way.

[ He doesn't quite yet. ]

Breakfast means quite a lot to you, it seems.

[ He shrugs, but runs a nervous hand through his hair. ]

I enjoy cooking, and have picked up a few opinions about it.

Well, I am an omnivore, of sorts. I'm sure that whatever it is, it shall delight me.

[ Not much mockery there. He seems quite sincere. ]

It will if I can find half of any familiar ingredients. I'm quite good. [ It sounds matter of fact, not boastful. ]

[ Well...Byerly isn't one to turn down a free breakfast, even if he doesn't fully understand what led to it being offered. So, a shrug, and then he turns and leads the fellow back the way they came. ]

A chef, then, are you?

[ He nods, but — seeing as Byerly has taken the lead and Vanadi is more than happy to leave it with him as he trails after, adds: ]

By hobby, not profession.

What is your profession?

[ ugh, don't ask that. He watches the stones in the wall ahead of them with determined placidity. ]

I suppose I'm a Scout, and all of whatever that entails.

[ Oh, come now. ]

Back where you were before.

Mercenary.

[ It sounds more like a guess than an answer. ]

You sound uncertain.

[ An irritated huff. ]

Because whatever keeps me fed is an ungainly answer, if perhaps more accurate. [ a beat, then a correction: ] Kept.

Hm.

[ His voice is light, nonjudgmental. ]

Unusual priority for a fellow of your birth, no?

[ There's a silence, then a small sound as if the start of a sentence — then back to silence again. A refusal to answer seems abhorrently rude, but when you're out of evasions ...

He fiercely misses empty pleasure of the previous evening. ]

[ Hm. Curious. ]

Not embarrassed, I hope.

[ mildly: ] I'd simply be lying if I were embarrassed, it would be easy enough.

So what is it?

I'm certain I don't need to explain to you that luck changes.

That's rather more than mere luck, no?

[ his tone has gone a little sharp: ] Your insistent curiosity is not an endearing trait so early in the morning.