Bartholomew saw the smile that formed on the male's mouth, and he matched it with his own smile, for he couldn't seem to help it all that much. The other male rejected the cigarette, and Bartholomew put the pack away and then lit the end of his cigarette. Jus sayin, dere's nothin better than having a cigarette and some wine.....Well, okay, dere's sex an' cigarettes, also coffee an' cigarettes, but hey, beggers can't be choosers, eh? the male spoke, even though something in the back of his head was telling him that he could probably accomplish two of the three of the latter with this male for some reason. You could say there was something instinctual about what Bartholomew was thinking about the male. If only because there were vibes falling from the eyes that were pinned on him. Bartholomew had his own eyes on the other male. Seb continued to speak though, as he passed the wine glass to Bart, who took it gracefully. Bartholomew let the glass come to his mouth and the liquid go into his mouth and down his throat.
It was dry red wine, but also very sweet. Very, very dry though. It made the male smack his lips and lick his lips a few times with his long tongue. He listened to the words of the male though, about Casa being a strong pack with worthy leaders. Bartholomew was in no position to argue, nor was he in any position to tell the male that he would come and join that pack, because frankly, he was not interested. He already knew where Mars was going to, and Bartholomew didn't object to that decision so he would not take things into his own hands in choosing packs. Bartholomew nodded his head lightly and committed the words to memory, just in case he ever needed it. He took another sip of the wine in his glass before he was asked a question. What kind of artist he was. I mostly paint, but I also play some music. Drums only tho'. spoke the accented male as he nodded his head. Little bit o' acting too. he added afterward.
The action of the male putting his head on Bart's knee made the male slightly tense up, just because he was not expecting to be touched as soon as he was. He looked down at the rust male and put a smile on his face, as well as his free ivory hand had gone and rested itself on the male's head, and his fingers ran through the locks that was the rust male's mane. When the man grabbed his curly tail, it went limp in the male's hand and that hand that was grabbing it ran through the fluffy fur there, and it made a shiver go up his spine. No one ever really touched his tail in the way he did, and it was weird to him. He caught the wink though and he smiled deviously at the male again. He took a puff from his cigarette and then he took another sip of his wine.
So where do'ya come from? Ya' born here in Nova Scotia? asked Bartholomew, still running his hand through the male's hair as he talked to him.
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