[It's the silence that kills him. Rafe is too fucking perceptive to not cling to anything that sounds like a decent business venture and apply his own expertise, but what was David supposed to do? Not tell him about the successful endeavor that is Rose Apothecary?
Bitch, please.]
Ah- mmm, thank you?
[The vague, not-quite-a-laugh he executes is one Rafe has heard before, which waffles between dismissive and sincere.]
But I already have. My business partner turned in the applications a few weeks ago, so, we're good.
[ no one would ever be cruel enough to ask david rose to keep his mouth shut. or naive enough to expect it to work.
rafe, meanwhile, uses his words (or doesn't) as tactically as his money— where and when they'll have the best effect. it's truly astounding how many people can't handle a concentrated silent stare longer than thirty seconds. he does so again now, partly because he knows exactly how it'll make david squirm and partly because... well. just because he can.
rafe adler is a little shit. stop the presses. ]
A business partner. [ echoes seem to be a thing tonight. weird acoustics in this barn. ] Go on.
[It does make David squirm, because Rafe is uncomfortably perceptive and a known asshole who digs until he has exactly what he wants, and nothing less. It's a dedication to perfectionism David can admire when its laser-focus isn't turned on him.]
Yeah. Business partner.
[The echo continues, somewhat defensive. Mutt should get that checked out.]
He's just a local guy who does accounting and wanted to invest in a sustainable model.
[ rafe immediately decides there are two possibilities here. the first and worst is a backwoods edition sebastien raine looking to bilk whatever money david still has and david knows it but is too distracted by... again. well. but a moment's consideration and rafe calculates the odds, dismisses it. (and not just because he would then feel some obligation to put a bullet in some hick's kneecap.)
no, it doesn't fit.
the over-casual dismissal to hide a clearly positive experience, the sudden defensiveness. rafe's eyes narrow, taking measure in another stretched-out silence. which leads right into the second and much more entertaining possibility: ]
[ David wouldn't fuck anything that wears flannel unironically, thank you, but- no, actually, that's a lie. He did once. Shut up.
He clears his throat, sidling around the counter and picking at the edge conspicuously. Not necessarily playing coy so much as wanting to put some distance between him and the inquisitive party. It lessens the burn of that microscope. ]
Patrick.
[ He delivers with enunciated crispness, giving Rafe a look. ]
[ yeah, mmhmm. you were saying? williamsburg, anybody? ]
How parochial.
[ if the look is meant to be any kind of deterrent than david needs to work on it or aim it at somebody who gives infinitely more fucks about that kind of thing. rafe doesn't let loose the full power of the smirk™ yet but it's waiting. lurking. and it only gets worse when it becomes clear that david isn't saying anything else. ]
Hm. I think that is the least I've ever heard you say about any single subject in twenty five years.
[ He's getting overly defensive and it shows, but David doesn't have a last resort for this kind of thing. He doesn't have a contingency plan. He just has his own sartorial expertise and a sort-of boyfriend he didn't want Rafe to know about.
David's gesture is fluttery and dismissive, and after chewing another bite of bagel he adds: ]
He's just a business major who dresses exactly the way you think business majors dress.
It's not a matter of what I'm wanting here, buddy. I'm just pointing out a fact.
[ and pointing it out with no small amount of smugness. if rafe were anyone else he'd be chortling but as it is rafe and he has certain standards to uphold, a very satisfied smile curls at the corner of his mouth. ]
And how exactly does a business major dress? [ considering certain parties present were accountancy majors back in the d— hold up a minute. ] ...Wait, tell me he's actually graduated and has a degree in this.
[ maybe other people would be concerned for the cradle-robbing aspect thereof but rafe is too hung up on the idea of david trusting business angles to a student still angling for internship credit. ]
[ hey, rafe doesn't care how old as long as he's properly certified and accredited to do what he does! ...and also doesn't treat david like shit. don't ask him which is the more important qualifier, it'd be embarrassing for them both.
but hm. doesn't this all start to paint a certain picture. rafe can hardly be blamed for dragging out this casual interrogation as long as possible— they haven't seen each other in a while, and it's been a longer while still since david went cagey over gushing talking about his personal life.
and because the longer he can stay on offense, the more likely it is that david will be distracted on defense and not turn the questions back around to "glitter card guy".
and so it's with the most casual tone and an unmerciful grin that rafe asks: ]
no subject
Bitch, please.]
Ah- mmm, thank you?
[The vague, not-quite-a-laugh he executes is one Rafe has heard before, which waffles between dismissive and sincere.]
But I already have. My business partner turned in the applications a few weeks ago, so, we're good.
no subject
rafe, meanwhile, uses his words (or doesn't) as tactically as his money— where and when they'll have the best effect. it's truly astounding how many people can't handle a concentrated silent stare longer than thirty seconds. he does so again now, partly because he knows exactly how it'll make david squirm and partly because... well. just because he can.
rafe adler is a little shit. stop the presses. ]
A business partner. [ echoes seem to be a thing tonight. weird acoustics in this barn. ] Go on.
no subject
Yeah. Business partner.
[The echo continues, somewhat defensive. Mutt should get that checked out.]
He's just a local guy who does accounting and wanted to invest in a sustainable model.
no subject
no, it doesn't fit.
the over-casual dismissal to hide a clearly positive experience, the sudden defensiveness. rafe's eyes narrow, taking measure in another stretched-out silence. which leads right into the second and much more entertaining possibility: ]
Does this "local guy" have a name?
no subject
He clears his throat, sidling around the counter and picking at the edge conspicuously. Not necessarily playing coy so much as wanting to put some distance between him and the inquisitive party. It lessens the burn of that microscope. ]
Patrick.
[ He delivers with enunciated crispness, giving Rafe a look. ]
no subject
How parochial.
[ if the look is meant to be any kind of deterrent than david needs to work on it or aim it at somebody who gives infinitely more fucks about that kind of thing. rafe doesn't let loose the full power of the smirk™ yet but it's waiting. lurking. and it only gets worse when it becomes clear that david isn't saying anything else. ]
Hm. I think that is the least I've ever heard you say about any single subject in twenty five years.
no subject
[ He's getting overly defensive and it shows, but David doesn't have a last resort for this kind of thing. He doesn't have a contingency plan. He just has his own sartorial expertise and a sort-of boyfriend he didn't want Rafe to know about.
David's gesture is fluttery and dismissive, and after chewing another bite of bagel he adds: ]
He's just a business major who dresses exactly the way you think business majors dress.
no subject
[ and pointing it out with no small amount of smugness. if rafe were anyone else he'd be chortling but as it is rafe and he has certain standards to uphold, a very satisfied smile curls at the corner of his mouth. ]
And how exactly does a business major dress? [ considering certain parties present were accountancy majors back in the d— hold up a minute. ] ...Wait, tell me he's actually graduated and has a degree in this.
[ maybe other people would be concerned for the cradle-robbing aspect thereof but rafe is too hung up on the idea of david trusting business angles to a student still angling for internship credit. ]
no subject
[ He flourishes with his bagel, mildly upset. David has never been and will never be a cradle robber. Jesus Christ. ]
And- you know. Boot-cut denim. Button-down shirts.
no subject
but hm. doesn't this all start to paint a certain picture. rafe can hardly be blamed for dragging out this casual interrogation as long as possible— they haven't seen each other in a while, and it's been a longer while still since david went cagey over gushing talking about his personal life.
and because the longer he can stay on offense, the more likely it is that david will be distracted on defense and not turn the questions back around to "glitter card guy".and so it's with the most casual tone and an unmerciful grin that rafe asks: ]
Plaid?