milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Atton is outside, training.

He has a dozen or so floating targets, like dartboards, zipping around him very quickly and firing stun bolts down at him from tiny holes at the sides. It's very obvious that he cobbled them together from various machines.

He's blindfolded, and he's alternating between throwing knives at them with one hand and shooting them with another, while dodging the stun bolts. Judging by the bright, chirpy green flashes and the heavy blaster scoring and multiple knife marks on and immediately around the bullseye, he's doing quite well.

He may be grinning from ear to ear, because it's reassuring to know that he's not helpless without the Force.

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Oh. Damn. The crestfallen look on Merlin's face might just be both cute and comical.

"Possibly the latter. Which I am sure your lover would not appreciate."

Atton reaches over to pat Merlin on the shoulder.
"Probably not. There, there - Y'never know, if you meet him y'might be able to convince him to join in." Beat. "Please don't make me ask, though, I already have two people who want me to suggest a threesome to him."

And, miracle of miracles, Merlin resists the urge to purr, or something equally inane. "That's alright. You win some, you lose the rest, right?"

Pause.

"Permit me at least a single compliment? You are a striking man."

"A single compliment? You can give me as many compliments as y'like," Atton laughs. "And thank you."

"And humble, I see." But he's laughing now. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Because May the first has always been one of my favorites..."

"And you are very welcome."

Merlin gets a companionable arm slung around his shoulders as Atton starts to steer them inside.
"First person ever to recognise how humble I am. Y'get a drink for being clever and pretty."

Merlin apparently doesn't mind being used as an armrest, to judge from his amused expression.

"And you, my dear Atton, shall have one as well, for recognizing how clever I am."

"Excellent." Atton grins.

"So what brings a nice guy like you to a place like this?"

Small talk is always fun, especially when moving towards a warm building.

"The door showing up, usually. What about you?" Atton grins as they head inside.

"Research. But I like your answer better."

At this point, Merlin has decided he needs a strong drink. It'll keep him distracted from charming Atton.

"My answer was very good." Sagely.

"Yes, it was. I'd say it deserves a glass of Bayle's Piss." Which is what he orders when they finally arrive at Bar. Imagine his surprise when two glasses of the white wine appear on the counter.

It's not often that he gets this particular drink outside of Amber or the Golden Circle.

"And it has such a pleasant name, too."

"It does. I'm not sure who started the name calling, but this is a decent white wine from my homeland. It's just not the baron's best vintage ...hence the title."

"I'm shocked and appalled that you wouldn't get me the best vintage." Atton attempts to look very sad.

Merlin snorts. "I'd have to return there to get some. I've a journey coming up soon. Should I remember, I'll bring you a bottle of it."

Atton huffs, a little.
"I suppose it's okay, then."

"Are you going to stand there and talk, or drink man?"

Atton laughs, gulping down the wine quickly.

"Blessed serpent, you're as much a peacock as any of my brothers." There is a slight pause. "Or me at times." He consumes a mouthful of the wine and smiles. Serenely.

"What's a peacock?"

"A vain bird with annoyingly lavish tail feathers."

"'M not vain. If I was I'd comb my hair."

"I never said it was a bad thing!"