( nick entertains the notion of sending them to some fine dining place for quite a while, because it feels appropriate for a king, and a conversation about that, but in the end he just sends william his own address. it might shock a lot of people to learn that nick can actually cook reasonably well, he just opts not to almost all of the time.
this isn't complicated though, it's easy enough to whip up some pasta and a good sauce, and he's even running with enough time to get changed into a jeans and sweater combo that practically makes him look respectable. so, maybe nick is putting a little bit of work in here. just a little.
at any rate he's pleased enough when william shows, and he squints briefly at the bottle of wine even if it doesn't mean a thing to him. the house is still heavily warded, there's magic everywhere and a distinct presence at the entryways, but it drops not long after nick opens the door, gestures for him to come in. )
Hi, come in. I thought this would be like, better for talking, you know? No one interrupting.
[He makes that remark after stepping inside, though his gaze does drift to the doorway - he's not as in tune with his abilities as he will be in time, but it's almost as if he notices the presence of those wards somewhere at the back of his mind, fingers tracing over the door frame as he passes through it and stands on the other side as the door shuts in his wake. His eyes then rake over Nick with the same curiosity, brows lifting as he waits to be directed - to a table, to relax, to whatever Nick has planned.]
Let me know where to put this. I assume we're alone for the evening?
( nick leads the way with a gesture, over to a table he's laid out ready for them. there's wine glasses and everything, though william wouldn't know that nick is typically prone to swigging straight from a bottle rather than using any kind of glass, wine or otherwise. )
We are. I have housemates but they're at our other place, in the Down. ( with some of the animals, thankfully, because a new boisterous dog and grumpy cats don't make for much of an intimate evening conversation. there's still the shadowy dreamling crawling about the place, but the creature has skittered off for the time being at least. they are functionally alone in the house. )
If you pour the wine, I'll go grab the food. Feel free to be generous.
[William is not the sort of person who would reflect on this situation because quite frankly, it works in his favor and he doesn't care - but a keen eye might've noted the latent danger that comes with inviting the man who once held his belt around your throat to dinner, in your vacated house, with such open trust. He likes that aspect of Nick, the foolish part of him, because it makes for easy use (who hasn't seen the network to further underline that point,) and although he hasn't done anything to the wine, this moment right here would've given him ample time to.
Foolish kid. He likes that about you.]
It's definitely older than you are, the vintage. Yet nowhere quite as old as I am.
[Said jokingly when Nick returns, and yet - wholly truthful. He waits for a beat to take a seat, if only to lend a hand in setting the table; it's not an act he really wants to be tied up in so if Nick seems to have it all under control, who's he to interrupt? He'll just toss a dinner napkin across his lap, and touch his fingers over the silverware's handles.]
no subject
this isn't complicated though, it's easy enough to whip up some pasta and a good sauce, and he's even running with enough time to get changed into a jeans and sweater combo that practically makes him look respectable. so, maybe nick is putting a little bit of work in here. just a little.
at any rate he's pleased enough when william shows, and he squints briefly at the bottle of wine even if it doesn't mean a thing to him. the house is still heavily warded, there's magic everywhere and a distinct presence at the entryways, but it drops not long after nick opens the door, gestures for him to come in. )
Hi, come in. I thought this would be like, better for talking, you know? No one interrupting.
no subject
[He makes that remark after stepping inside, though his gaze does drift to the doorway - he's not as in tune with his abilities as he will be in time, but it's almost as if he notices the presence of those wards somewhere at the back of his mind, fingers tracing over the door frame as he passes through it and stands on the other side as the door shuts in his wake. His eyes then rake over Nick with the same curiosity, brows lifting as he waits to be directed - to a table, to relax, to whatever Nick has planned.]
Let me know where to put this. I assume we're alone for the evening?
no subject
We are. I have housemates but they're at our other place, in the Down. ( with some of the animals, thankfully, because a new boisterous dog and grumpy cats don't make for much of an intimate evening conversation. there's still the shadowy dreamling crawling about the place, but the creature has skittered off for the time being at least. they are functionally alone in the house. )
If you pour the wine, I'll go grab the food. Feel free to be generous.
no subject
[William is not the sort of person who would reflect on this situation because quite frankly, it works in his favor and he doesn't care - but a keen eye might've noted the latent danger that comes with inviting the man who once held his belt around your throat to dinner, in your vacated house, with such open trust. He likes that aspect of Nick, the foolish part of him, because it makes for easy use (who hasn't seen the network to further underline that point,) and although he hasn't done anything to the wine, this moment right here would've given him ample time to.
Foolish kid. He likes that about you.]
It's definitely older than you are, the vintage. Yet nowhere quite as old as I am.
[Said jokingly when Nick returns, and yet - wholly truthful. He waits for a beat to take a seat, if only to lend a hand in setting the table; it's not an act he really wants to be tied up in so if Nick seems to have it all under control, who's he to interrupt? He'll just toss a dinner napkin across his lap, and touch his fingers over the silverware's handles.]