Get ready for some magic!

[minthemagician]

Who: Mostly Bret and Jemaine, but also Min
What: Dinner and a show
When: Friday evening, around dinnertime
Where: A tavern near the city center

Comments

[weedyshyguy]

Bret stared. "What?" Why did Jemaine write his name on the chocolate? That was...weird.

Isn't he taking you out on a date?

Jemaine had gotten him a stone of baking chocolate for a date?

No.

No, it wasn't a date. That'd be silly. And weird. And gay. Three things Jemaine tried to avoid, generally. Except when he was having sex with Bret. Then he was pretty gay.

Did baking chocolate count as foreplay?

Bret closed his eyes for a moment, trying to stop his brain before it overworked itself. He'd only been thinking for a few seconds and he'd already gone in circles. "I mean...thank you."

[posinglikeaswan]

Jemaine had quickly given up on looking for twigs and offshoots and had instead moved to hover behind Bret, brushing his arm across Bret's shoulder to reach over and scratch his nail across the accidental I, cutting facilely through the middle and merging it into a distinctive T.

"There," Jemaine mumbled sheepishly, pulling back and picking at the chocolate under his nail with his teeth. "Better?"

It almost looked like BRET. Maybe BREL.

[weedyshyguy]

Bret frowned. "Yeah." It wasn't really better though. He was just as confused about what this was, what it meant, what Jemaine wanted from him.

And it said BREL. At least that didn't sound like some girl's name.

What was he supposed to do with a chocolate slab with his name and a weird squiggly drawn onto the top of it? Eat it, he supposed. Although apparently Jemaine did his art with his fingernails. That was hardly hygenic.

And knowing what to do with it still wouldn't explain why Jemaine had given it to him in the first place. That was the really pressing question, after all. But maybe not the sort one asked. It didn't seem polite.

And he didn't know what he'd do if he didn't like the answer.

So he changed the subject. "Is this good enough?" He gestured vaguely at himself. "The outfit?" He'd put on his nicest (cleanest) shirt and a pair of vaguely formal pants that he'd found in his pile of summoned clothing from the oasis. It was the best he could do.

[posinglikeaswan]

"Yeah," Jemaine said, too quickly, moving back with a tight smile. He met Bret's gaze, looked away, looked back -- swallowed -- and quickly took in his attire with trepidation. He did look good, a concept that was both foreign and not foreign at all, but nonetheless strange, and he found himself wondering whether Bret had always looked good or if it was at all possible that it was just the clothes. Or a mixture. The thread of his hem suddenly snapped, jerking his hand forward.

It probably served as a metaphor, but he didn't dwell.

"You look," Jemaine took the forefinger of his right hand between the thumb and forefinger on his left. "You look good, Bret."

And he would have told any other other date that she looked beautiful, maybe draped an awkward arm around her waist, but he speculated that that would probably leave Bret feeling atypical and confused. Not that he really knew how a date with a man worked.

He probably should have asked someone.

[weedyshyguy]

Jemaine was acting really weird. Exceptionally weird. And, he realized distantly, he probably shouldn't have prompted the weirdness by asking him to evaluate his appearance.

Although, it was one of those instances where hey, maybe you're going to the beach and you're in a tuxedo. He needed some sort of direction.

Or...a compliment. Okay. Didn't Jemaine have a really hard time with that sort of thing? "Thanks." Man, this was weird.

"Um," he said after a lengthy and uncomfortable pause, "Why'd you ask me here?" If Jemaine used the words 'wing' or 'man', Bret was fairly certain he could break the chocolate over his head.