It takes him a good second to realize it — it’s been so long that someone not trying to fuck their way to a passing grade has flirted with him that he almost turns him down completely before a soft breeze reminds him that he’s outside and not in his office. He’s thankful, at least, that he isn’t flustered by it. In fact, he finds himself flattered, a feeling so foreign to him it might as well be new. Oh, certainly, he’s been complimented, by both colleagues as students alike, but none of them ever really mean it. It’s a means to an end, and anymore it’s students trying to get into his good graces. But this man isn’t a student. He’s just a fellow patron of the bar, clearly interested in him.
He takes a drag, ashing onto the sidewalk and lifts his shoulder into a casual shrug, watching the man next to him out of the corner of his eye. ]
No, they aren’t. [ It’s not entirely meant as a come on — it’s just the facts: the statistical likelihood that anyone in the crowd milling around the front of the bar is a quarter as good at something Ratio is should be zero with how low the probability is. But, he thinks, as his eyes drop momentarily to his lips, it’s a little bit of a come on. ]
I can further demonstrate, if you’d like? There’s a billiards table two bars down. Care to join me for a game or two?
[ He’s got a busy day tomorrow, but what the hell. It’s been forever since he had the chance to go on a date with someone. And longer still for anything else to happen. He’d like to try and find out what it feels like to run his hands through that blonde hair. ]
no subject
It takes him a good second to realize it — it’s been so long that someone not trying to fuck their way to a passing grade has flirted with him that he almost turns him down completely before a soft breeze reminds him that he’s outside and not in his office. He’s thankful, at least, that he isn’t flustered by it. In fact, he finds himself flattered, a feeling so foreign to him it might as well be new. Oh, certainly, he’s been complimented, by both colleagues as students alike, but none of them ever really mean it. It’s a means to an end, and anymore it’s students trying to get into his good graces. But this man isn’t a student. He’s just a fellow patron of the bar, clearly interested in him.
He takes a drag, ashing onto the sidewalk and lifts his shoulder into a casual shrug, watching the man next to him out of the corner of his eye. ]
No, they aren’t. [ It’s not entirely meant as a come on — it’s just the facts: the statistical likelihood that anyone in the crowd milling around the front of the bar is a quarter as good at something Ratio is should be zero with how low the probability is. But, he thinks, as his eyes drop momentarily to his lips, it’s a little bit of a come on. ]
I can further demonstrate, if you’d like? There’s a billiards table two bars down. Care to join me for a game or two?
[ He’s got a busy day tomorrow, but what the hell. It’s been forever since he had the chance to go on a date with someone. And longer still for anything else to happen. He’d like to try and find out what it feels like to run his hands through that blonde hair. ]