[ It's alright — it wasn't really about pushing the offer so much as making it clear Nate shouldn't consider Ian's sensibilities a factor. He offers a small expression that counts as a smile only by sheer technicality, and his hand leaves Nate's thigh to accommodate his retreat. ]
Okay. You don't have to. Whenever— if you ever do...
[ You know where he lives.
He settles his own elbow against the couch backing, the side of a finger settles on his lips briefly. It doesn't completely fall away when he speaks again. ]
I guess in the meantime we have to find a way to keep the tourists from messing up our city. Fucking snowbirds.
[ A gentle transition offering, if Nate wants the out. ]
[ It's a relief to not be pressed for more, though he he's abundantly, acutely aware that Ian would like to know. He's naturally curious, and he actually seems to care, and Nate is clinging to a vestige of loyalty. He's had disagreements with Sam, and they're different people than they were fifteen years ago.
His brother still spent enough time behind bars that he's more than earned the tabula rasa in a new world.
It's obvious bait and a kind gesture. Nate takes it without question and the thin, crooked smile on his face is a stand-in for a proper thank you. ]
Are you implying that New Amsterdam is the Florida of the future?
[ That actually startles a laugh out of him for the first time since they began this conversation over the implant's network, and Nate makes a show of dabbing a non-existent tear from his eye.
He's absolutely earned the ridicule but that doesn't mean he won't challenge it. Ian is doing him the favor of changing the subject, anyway, and he didn't have to do so. ]
I can't believe you're comparing me to Florida Man. That hurts.
[ Nate doesn't even hesitate. It's instinctual, innate, the kind of hair-trigger, knee-jerk reaction that comes to you out of nowhere, the same sort of reflex as when a fragment of building fails under his hand and the bottom drops out and he has to latch onto the nearest grip.
He takes the throw pillow next to him and, in a perfect mimicry of the last time he committed this exact atrocity on this exact couch, turns and deliberately presses it against Ian's face to stem the flow. ]
[ It's effective — rather, it's effective by accident, because his voice starts faltering as soon as the pillow comes at him, devolving into laughter. He wheels back beneath the onslaught of his own furniture wielded so grievously against him.
Which one of them is the real victim here, I ask you??
He's just gonna. Try and disarm him with a quick yank here. ]
[ It's just a cushion and therefore Nate has no qualms about relinquishing his weapon of choice, though he becomes disadvantaged upon permitting Ian to take the instrument of softened agony.
It wasn't an attack so much as a desperate attempt to muffle mockery, no matter how much he genuinely likes the laughter. People never get to just be, here, but it's close enough when Ian is being a dumbass for the express purpose of making him feel less terrible.
[ He's glad to know it worked. Acting like a moron is not always the right call during moments recovering from duress, kind of a gamble, risk v. reward. Sometimes it's great, sometimes you fall flat on your face and you just look like a jerk.
He has to defend his honor with one deliberate swat to Nate's shoulder with the pillow — he's no pushover, okay — but then it's back to wry. ]
Draw. But only because I'm not sure you could keep up, and I don't wanna make you look bad.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Okay. You don't have to. Whenever— if you ever do...
[ You know where he lives.
He settles his own elbow against the couch backing, the side of a finger settles on his lips briefly. It doesn't completely fall away when he speaks again. ]
I guess in the meantime we have to find a way to keep the tourists from messing up our city. Fucking snowbirds.
[ A gentle transition offering, if Nate wants the out. ]
no subject
His brother still spent enough time behind bars that he's more than earned the tabula rasa in a new world.
It's obvious bait and a kind gesture. Nate takes it without question and the thin, crooked smile on his face is a stand-in for a proper thank you. ]
Are you implying that New Amsterdam is the Florida of the future?
no subject
[ Wryly, and with at least a small amount of sincere humor. The metaphor's hitting way too close to apt to deny it. ]
New Amsterdam man breaks into billion dollar corporation, knocks out guard for no reason.
[ Pitched like a newspaper headline. ]
Better yet -- New Amsterdam man crosses sixty story crane to avoid rodent infestation.
[ You're welcome. ]
no subject
[ That actually startles a laugh out of him for the first time since they began this conversation over the implant's network, and Nate makes a show of dabbing a non-existent tear from his eye.
He's absolutely earned the ridicule but that doesn't mean he won't challenge it. Ian is doing him the favor of changing the subject, anyway, and he didn't have to do so. ]
I can't believe you're comparing me to Florida Man. That hurts.
no subject
[ Pause for dramatic effect, and then-- ]
The first cut is the deepest - ♪
[ That's right, he's singing Sheryl Crow right now to rub in the pain. Salt in the wound. ]
Baby I know--
no subject
He takes the throw pillow next to him and, in a perfect mimicry of the last time he committed this exact atrocity on this exact couch, turns and deliberately presses it against Ian's face to stem the flow. ]
no subject
Which one of them is the real victim here, I ask you??
He's just gonna. Try and disarm him with a quick yank here. ]
no subject
It wasn't an attack so much as a desperate attempt to muffle mockery, no matter how much he genuinely likes the laughter. People never get to just be, here, but it's close enough when Ian is being a dumbass for the express purpose of making him feel less terrible.
He does feel less terrible. ]
Draw?
no subject
He has to defend his honor with one deliberate swat to Nate's shoulder with the pillow — he's no pushover, okay — but then it's back to wry. ]
Draw. But only because I'm not sure you could keep up, and I don't wanna make you look bad.