Flawed By Design

"I promise I won't say a thing," he reassured with a smile, despite his body being tense the entire time. "Do you like pets at all? I personally hate cats, they're so... impersonal, if that makes sense? They're just so indifferent, I need a pet who'll give me attention, you know? That's lame... I think a nice bottle of wine would be fine. I'll get it, okay? No need to spend money on wine. I'm no boozehound but I've got a pretty big collection of alcohol."

Shrugging, he held his smile nonetheless despite the embarrassing admission.
 
"Can't I buy anything for you? You bought our desserts last night, let me buy a bottle of wine. I can borrow money off my parents, ti's not a big deal. I... just want to do something nice. I've got a few dollars in the bank, I'm not flushed with cash, but I... I want to be able to do something for you. This isn't going to work if you pity me," he smiled quietly, pushing himself off the chair once deciding he'd had enough chatting to Dante. Not that he was growing irritated by him, not at all. He just didn't want to start bickering, not when he'd more or less just started to get to know him.

"I'll go and... introduce myself to people, yeah? Maybe I'll make some friends. Doubt it, but I can try."
 
"Okay, yeah," he replied, his paranoia seeming to have calmed down a tad as he offered the human a smile. "That's a good idea, actually. I'm... I'm sure other people will like you. Even if they don't, they still have to work with you. Don't take anyone's shit, yeah? You're a tough guy."

Daring to offer a quick peck on the other's cheek, he folded his arms carefully, snapping his back with a groan. He made a mental note to order a massage later in the week... hoping to at least have Xavier join him.
 
Despite knowing Dante would have secretly liked him to turn up at his apartment, proclaiming the dinner with Makayla to be a disaster, that wasn't a narrative he was able to come out with. On the contrary, he hadn't had as much fun with someone for a while. He enjoyed his day with Dante, that was true, but it had ended up tarnished by the shock of seeing his dogs and the feeling that Dante wanted to remain on professional terms. Now he knew the dogs were there and knew that Dante wanted something more than a boss-employee relationship, he was determined to end the night on a high - and he was already in a pretty good mood after the night with Makayla.

Texting Dante that he was in the reception, he decided that he ought to just wait for him to come down and greet him. He was completely incongruous to the setting, and the security guard behind the reception desk didn't hide his judgemental glares very well.
 
Within minutes did the rather demanding clicks of Dante's hooves could be heard once receiving the text. Sure, Dante was a bit of a wimp when talking about certain topics but, outside of small circles, Dante just oozed an aura of opulence and confidence, his body language along causing the guards in the lobby to stiffen warily. This was the man who gave them their jobs, after all. His stern presence immediately faded upon seeing Xavier, though, and was instead replaced with a wide grin.

"That took longer than I was expecting," he admitted as he adjusted his computer bag. "Must have had fun, huh? Well, that doesn't matter because you're hanging out with me, now. You got some wine?"
 
"I had so much fun. She's fuckin' great," beamed the human, slightly tipsy but not enough to be drunk-- yet. After sharing the wine he'd brought with him, there was every chance he'd be drunk. He didn't get to really let loose like this often, but Makayla brought it out of him, and he was at least thankful to her for that. Sometimes, he did just need someone to tell him that it was fine to have fun and relax, and she was perfect company to do that in. With Dante, he was too concerned about being attractive to him to fully relax - but the alcohol should at least help.

"You know she's, like, a lesbian, right?" He babbled as he wandered into the elevator after him, clutching the cheap wine in his hand. "Like, there isn't a chance she's going to jump my bones or anything, she's not into me. Not at all. I mean, she kissed, like, three girls tonight, so I'm pretty sure I'm not her type at all."
 
"I didn't ask if she was," he reminded as he took in the other fully, scanning the man fully now only to realize that the other was tipsy. He was expecting the two to get some pizza somewhere quiet and just talk, not go somewhere where they'd end up making out with strangers, or getting drunk period.

"Let's just get to my place and relax, yeah? I'm a bit upset that you got drunk before me," he admitted with a laugh in an attempt to seem calm. Entwining their hands together daringly, he tugged the human along.
 
"Yeah, but you were always paranoid about me and her, like, getting together, right? There's no chance of that. I'm into you and she's into girls-- so I can hang out with her without you fretting out about it, yeah?" He laughed, quickly lifting the other's hand to offer a cute kiss on his knuckles. He wasn't dumb - he could tell that his tipsiness wasn't especially looked favourably upon.

"Hey, we had a few glasses of wine, it's... not like I went clubbing with her. Besides, she gave me good advice when it came to you. She said I needed to, like... grow up when it came to your dogs, if that helps? So hey, I'm not gonna moan about them," he continued promisingly, resting against the wall of the elevator once inside. "So... uh... I'm not drunk. Just tipsy. When I'm drunk, I'm basically collapsed on the floor somewhere."
 
"Well, I'm not going to make you walk home if that's the case," he replied simply, though his pink cheeks were pretty unsubtle from the kiss to his knuckles. Things like that - simple, romantic actions that could easily be featured on some Hallmark movie - made him flustered, as was evident from him hold a hand to his cheek to calm himself down.

"You must be a lightweight, huh?" He offered with a growing smile, nudging him playfully as the elevator 'dinged' from each floor. "I'm surprised, you look so tough, I thought you'd be able to chug back whiskey without a problem."
 
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"Oi, I can drink whiskey and I smoke sometimes. I have that whole aesthetic going on. I just... wine gets my tipsy and Makayla didn't listen when I said I'd prefer lager," he answered, his slight tipsiness meaning that he did switch from one topic of conversation to another rather quickly-- and at the forefront of his mind was the glares he'd received from the guard.

"I so don't fit in around here, you'll start getting a bad reputation. I'm a commoner or whatever, you're all famous and stuff. We hardly mix, dude."
 
"Commoner? I'm not a prince, Xavier. I mean, I came from the slums, I know how it feels," he reminded as he offered a kind wave to the guard before heading into the street, popping his umbrella immediately to avoid the freezing rain that had started a half hour before. Rolling his eyes for emphasis under his bangs, he took Xavier's hands in his to at least help the tipsy man along.

"You're not too drunk to not enjoy a nice dessert, right? I don't want you getting sick on my caroet, I just returned the carpet cleaner," he teased as he tugged his coat closet, sniffling a tad. "God, I fucking hate this weather. My family is from Southern Italy, they weren't meant to live in cold places," he whined.
 
"I'm not drunk, really-- I'm barely coherent when I'm drunk. I certainly don't use words like 'coherent' if I've had too much to drink, alright? I just had a few glasses of wine, it's not a big deal. I'm not going to vomit my guts up," he promised easily. He barely threw up when he was really drunk, so the likelihood of it happening now he was simply a tad tipsy was slim.

"So, where are we going, then? The same dessert place? Not that I mind that, it's just expensive and I... want to take you out somewhere, y'know? Like I said, I don't want this -whatever we have going on- to be solely you splashing the cash on me, that's... not what I like."
 
"Nah, we're going to my place. I have stuff to make some brownies sound thought we could do that together," he admitted as glanced over at Xavier in hopes of a positive response. It was a little strange for a millionaire to choose to make some brownie recipe he found online as opposed to just going out but he thought the interaction would be more intimate in some way.

Once in the elevator, Dante carefully took the wine to read the label. It was better than boxed wine, which was a plus, and it looked alright... not the meat wine he ever had but he wasn't going to complain.
 
"...When I start making some real money out of this modelling stuff, I'll buy some proper wine. That's just the cheap $5 stuff you get on a deal in the local store, but... it's all I could get. Probably tastes like mouthwash, but... hey, it's something, right?" He smiled, feeling even more awkward at bringing emphasis to his pretty shit financial situation. He was doing that himself, he knew that, but he felt he had to explain why the wine wasn't better quality. Watching Dante scrutinise the label, however politely quiet he was, was making him inwardly cringe in embarrassment.

"Anyway, you should have come out tonight. It was fun, you know? We could go alone next time. The bar was adorable-- it wasn't, like, loud or anything. It was quiet but real cosy, you'd like it."
 
"I didn't want anyone to be the third wheel, plus I had work to do," he shrugged, glancing up at the human while biting his lip. He tried his best to stay humble in his new wealth so it was hard for him not to immediately feel bad himself for somehow showing his opinion.

"It's not that it's five dollars, its just the fact that I've tried this flavor in this brand before and I think they do white wine better," he explained, though his explanation was cut short when he was affectionately tackled by one of the hounds. Carefully setting the wine by the mantle, he reluctantly had to lead the dog off of him with a smile.

Whistling both dogs over, he offered an apologetic smile to Xavier before leading them both into his bedroom despite their whimpers. He felt bad, sure, but he wanted to make the other happy.
 
He did feel slightly guilty that he was the cause of the dogs' whines, but it was either that go into another room for a few hours, or he get so uncomfortable that it'd ruin the little date. He did emphasise the fact that it was nothing personal against the monstrous dogs - he tried to explain that he disliked dogs in general, but he wasn't entirely sure Dante believed him.

"So, uh... brownies, yeah? Do you have raspberry jam? My mom always made brownies with raspberry jam, it's not the same without it," he grinned, sitting himself down at the table in the kitchen area of the apartment, doing his best to remain upbeat and keep the good mood going.
 
"I have strawberry, is that good enough?" He questioned as he tossed his jacket on the rack. Rummaging through the fridge carefully, he took out the jam and eggs with a hopeful smile. Lining the ingredients along the counter, he tapped his nails on the table impatiently.

"You're not vegan, right? I know some people I know are so I didn't want to offend you. I have soy milk to use if you want," he insisted before motioning the man over. "Help me out, will you? Pour us some wine at least."
 
"I can pour us some wine, sure. It's cheap and nasty and will probably burn your throat on the way down, but it might get us drunk quicker-- and I want to see you drunk. I think you'd be adorable," he smirked as he uncorked the wine relatively easily and began to pour out two hefty glasses full of it. He did want to just let loose with Dante for once and enjoy the night. He had seen a side of him he didn't really like earlier on at the office, and he was pinning all his hopes on tonight to eradicate his memories of that. Getting drunk and just goofing about seemed like the perfect choice to get things back on the right track.
 
"I've got a pretty high tolerance," he replied, though his snort and wide smile were proof he was lying. . In fact, something as simply as a can of Blue Ribbon could send him into flustered giggles. Staring at the bagged mix, he attempted to measure correctly. It was pretty evident that Dante's cooking skills were utterly abysmal outside of scrambled eggs and toast. In fact, most of the dinners that he ate at home were cooked by Sara.

Once the other filled their glasses, he took a sip. He attempted to seem calm but he couldn't help but wince at the aforementioned burning in his throat. "Oof, are you sure this is wine?" He teased before attempting to crack the eggs, groaning at the eggshells.
 
"I told you: cheap and nasty. But it should get us drunk, and that's sort of the ideal date. Baking brownies and getting drunk. It's the, like-- height of a modern day romance," he grinned, forcing back a cringe at the sharp taste of the wine. He wasn't a wine-drinker, but he could appreciate a good glass when he had the money to buy one at a bar. However, this was terrible-- but he did feel the effects of it almost immediately, and that was at least somewhat beneficial.

"I'm glad you're not a pretentious snob, you know. I fell totally in love with you when I saw your picture, and I was hoping you weren't going to be egotistical. Nobody can accuse you of that if you're buying a brownie kit and drinking dirt cheap wine~"
 
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