Don Juan was also in the get fed wherever I land category; he was a shameless beggar when it came to hospitality (as he was shameless in most other areas), but he also liked to think he was a good enough guest that no one usually minded. What he cost in food and laundry he more than made up for in wit and charm. Not that he had been feeling especially witty or charming tonight. He'd done a fair bit better earlier in the evening, he thought — before he'd decided he cared what Hudson thought of him. Now he was too self-conscious to be as glib as he usually was; too worried about losing out on the potential he could feel bristling through the air between them. But he hadn't managed to kill the evening yet, and — the remark about the bed was difficult to misinterpret, as was the look that followed. Impossible, really. There was something about a trailing look that felt qualitatively different than any other kind of glance. Hudson had been looking at him all night, but looking at him immediately after he'd glanced at his bed was a whole different matter. Don Juan felt his stomach swoop, not at all unpleasantly.
"It is certainly a spacious bed," Don Juan observed, as though he had only just now noticed. As though he had not let his eye catch on the bed when he'd first walked into the room, its immediate presence upon entering the flat both surprising and exhilarating. As though he had not already glanced at the bed in comparison to the end table and tried to gauge its height off the floor. He was feeling nearly giddy now, and wasn't sure whether or not that was coming across in his tone. Hudson mentioning the bed, looking at the bed, meant this was more or less a sealed deal now, nerves be damned. Don Juan moved without conscious thought to the edge of his seat, as though ready to jump off of it at a moment's notice.
"Will you be offended if I drink your whiskey too fast?" His tone was teasing. He took a small sip. Whiskey wasn't meant to be thrown back like a cheap beer or guzzled like a weak cocktail, but if the pretense of the drinks was the only thing keeping them from moving the night forward... well, Don Juan would be hard pressed to keep up the charade that he cared about the drink.
"It is certainly a spacious bed," Don Juan observed, as though he had only just now noticed. As though he had not let his eye catch on the bed when he'd first walked into the room, its immediate presence upon entering the flat both surprising and exhilarating. As though he had not already glanced at the bed in comparison to the end table and tried to gauge its height off the floor. He was feeling nearly giddy now, and wasn't sure whether or not that was coming across in his tone. Hudson mentioning the bed, looking at the bed, meant this was more or less a sealed deal now, nerves be damned. Don Juan moved without conscious thought to the edge of his seat, as though ready to jump off of it at a moment's notice.
"Will you be offended if I drink your whiskey too fast?" His tone was teasing. He took a small sip. Whiskey wasn't meant to be thrown back like a cheap beer or guzzled like a weak cocktail, but if the pretense of the drinks was the only thing keeping them from moving the night forward... well, Don Juan would be hard pressed to keep up the charade that he cared about the drink.
![[Image: 0hYxCaj.png]](https://i.imgur.com/0hYxCaj.png)
MJ made this <3