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Roland yawns audibly, stretching his arms into the air. The smooth green light, the leftover smell of beer and distant shuffling of artists are all like a sedative, trickling into his brain and relaxing his muscles. Much like the floor’s patron librarian, encouraging everyone in his vicinity to rest and indulge.
Said librarian is currently sitting in front of a canvas, not paying Roland any mind. The taller man sips idly from his remaining can of beer, not really up for another drinking session, but also not willing to waste it. He leans an arm on the other’s back, looking over his shoulder.
“..What’s this supposed to be”, Netzach’s voice comes out tired and scratchy, the result of only waking up maybe a few minutes ago.
Roland raises an eyebrow at him. “You tell me.”
The canvas in front of them is a mess of colours, shapes bleeding into each other with no clear rhyme or reason. There’s a splash of neon green, followed by dark reds, with some black accents on the side. All that said it’s completely incomprehensible.
He takes another sip from his beer before lazily handing it to the other man, squinting his eyes at the.. painting.
“Looks like the kind of thing nobles argue about”, he lets out a chuckle, “What’d they call it.. avant garde.”
Netzach hums, sipping from their indirectly shared beer. “One of those fancy words for ‘who knows’ I’m gonna guess.”
“Pretty much, yeah”, is his very helpful response. The other man’s hair is partially escaping his bun, dull green strands cascading down the back of his neck. It’s tempting.. to do what, he’s not sure. But very tempting.
He feels Netzach sigh under his hand, shoulders momentarily rising. “Maybe I’ll remember later”, he concludes.
They stay in place for a bit, like they could make time stand still. Even for a little bit. No receptions, no painful memories from each of their long lives. Just leaning on each other casually, letting the moment stay.
Something about Netzach keeps him relaxed whenever he’s around. And maybe the green haired man just happens to be nice to look at. And maybe touch. Like some patron saint of escapism, a careful hand encouraging his eyes to close and enjoy.
But it can only last so long.
Netzach throws him a look over his shoulder. “Should probably go back to your floor, man”
“You’re kicking me out already..? C’monn” he whines playfully, “Did ya catch the uptight virus from Yesod or what”
The other man snorts, not bothering to deny the allegation. “You know Angela’s gonna be on my ass if I keep you too long”, he notes, the words are equally teasing but his voice hints at disappointment.
Roland can only sigh in response. “Right. Forgot about that.” And that’s even mostly true, his brain was too busy drinking in the feeling of Netzach under his hand.
Neither of them move for another long moment. Roland has to be the one to break contact, slowly letting go of the other man. He takes the time to straighten his tie a little, pat down his clothes. They’re a bit wrinkly from pretty much passing out in them earlier, not that he cares much.
He meets brown eyes staring at him, before the shorter man looks away. “Aren’t you forgetting something..” he drawls out.
Roland blinks. His brain is still muddled with the after-effects of alcohol, or maybe that’s what he tells himself. As soon as the vague urge forms in his mind, he moves.
He puts a hand on Netzach’s shoulder before his lips meet skin, a few strands of green tickling his face momentarily. It smells like unwashed hair. Only when he pulls back does his brain start to catch up.
That. uh. he struggles to process anything when slightly wide brown eyes lock onto him. Roland. Roland what the hell was that. His heart seems to suddenly beat just fast enough to notice.
They stare at each other for a long moment, somehow equally bewildered by what just happened. His hand is still on the other librarian’s shoulder.
It’s not like they haven’t.. what’s it called.. tried things? It never went very far but when you’re drunk and curious enough, some oddly intimate touch can happen. But this isn’t that. They’re both less than a single beer down, pretty much dead sober. And his first unconscious thought was to kiss Netzach. Absolutely no excuse now.
His train of thought abruptly stops when he notices the other look away, slightly redder in the face than normal. The small quirk in his lips the closest thing he’s ever seen to a real smile on the man.
“..I meant the book.. but yeah, that too.”
Netzach is gesturing somewhere to the side, likely at said book. But the taller man can’t yet tear his eyes away from the soft, bashful expression on his face. For a split second he feels 10 years younger, and the longer they stay like this the less innocent his thoughts will likely get.
The lock of hair deliberately contouring the side of Netzach’s face, the bit of the man’s collarbone he can see under that shirt he always leaves slightly unbuttoned. This is bad. Very bad. He swallows nervously.
“Uh. yeah. anytime dude”, great going Roland. Totally normal thing to say about kissing your friend. He wills his hands away and into the pockets of his suit where they can’t betray him.
Embarrassingly enough Netzach recovers faster, the earlier moment of shyness completely gone. His only response is a split green eyebrow raising slightly. Okay this is stupid. He needs to leave.
The battle hardened male tries to step away without looking too defeated, but apparently fails. As his “friend” lets out a quiet laugh.
“Any huh? I’ll hold you to that”, the sudden rapid beating of his heart should not be possible at his big age. But life has its ways.
Some choked noise of affirmation escapes him as he bolts towards the book, and the laughter only grows in volume. It’s the best thing he’s heard in a long time.
Only once the door to Netzach’s floor slams behind him, does he breathe out a little. What’s wrong with him.. a grownass man getting flustered over a little peck on the cheek. But his heartbeat remains at a slightly elevated pace.
He closes his eyes, trying to contain it. Slow down, cool off. Look less suspiciously red in the face when he faces his own team of librarians. It only partially works.
Stupid feelings.