He wasn't sure Hudson was listening to him. He didn't much mind; it was just something to say while he worked his layers off. "Mm. It will or it won't," he said brightly. He'd never cared much about any of his various occupations, which was probably a contributing factor to his never spending more than nine months at one to date. It was easy to not care when one had more interesting things to do (parties, women, sudden obsessive hobbies) and his parent's apparently infinite supply of patience, love, and money to fall back on.

He'd gotten as much of his clothing off as he could without taking off his pants. He slid one thumb along the strap of his suspenders, considering it, but left them on. His wand was in his trouser pocket; he wasn't sure he was ready to part with it yet. Not enough information yet about which direction this evening was going.

Time to get some of that information, then. Don Juan stood and crossed to Hudson, brushing his arms back off of his knees so that he could make room for himself. He straddled Hudson's lap in a fluid motion and offered a silky smile. "You ever thought about getting tattoos?"

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