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Innamorato; Passionflower <3
Topic Started: Apr 10 2010, 08:22 PM (2,564 Views)
onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Satisfied, Sal went ahead and followed the brunet’s advice. While Thomas finished changing, he brought his vest to the register and paid the woman running the shop. With his vest proper folded up in a bag, Sal stepped off to the side of the desk to wait for Thomas. He went ahead and slide his box from Ferrara’s Bakery into the bag as well, freeing up one of his hands.

When Thomas came out and over, Sal noticed the slight little changes immediately. His shirt wasn’t tucked into his slacks and a few of the buttons higher up had been left open… casual. Not nearly so much as he’d been when he’d worn Sal’s clothes to make pizza in, but still. More casual in his own clothes than Sal had ever seen him. It was a happy median and really worked for the brunet. Sal didn’t say anything about it, but he sure let himself look while Thomas paid. Relaxed. Easy. A little more carefree than before. It relaxed something in Sal as well to see the man like that.

As they left, the blond nudged Thomas lightly in the side with his elbow. “So you’re a proper English gentleman, a super smart almost doctor who wants to work with young cancer patients, and you speak Chinese?” Snorting a sound of a wonder, Sal shook his head. “Is there anything you can’t do? You even learned to make and flip pizza quicker than most.”

He walked alongside brunet, comfortably, occasionally touching his arm or wrapping fingers around a shoulder or elbow when crowds got a little too big or fast for his liking – getting separated was not on his ‘to do’ list at all. Chinatown was great, but if he was honest, he was eager to get back over to the Little Italy area. Lombardi’s pizzeria was practically calling his name; good, hot pizza from a historical location and some wine. It sounded like the perfect end to their little excursion into the city for the day. And he couldn’t wait to find out how Lombardi’s pizza held up to his own back home… he’d have to rely on Thomas’ opinion for that, since his was likely to be a bit bias about it.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas happily carried out his newly purchased robe, the bag resting on his arm. He'd dropped his book into the same bag. He glanced up as Sal looked at him with that look of wonder. He chuckled a bit. "I don't really speak it. I know some basic phrases in a couple different languages. Mostly 'hello', 'thank you', 'you're welcome', 'my name is Thomas', 'do you speak English?', 'where is the bathroom?' and 'goodbye'" he smirked softly. The basic of most basic survival phrases. He was indeed a man prepared. Always prepared.

He smiled a bit though, that Sal at least seemed impressed. It warmed him a bit to know that. Though why it mattered so much that he impress Sal... oh who knew. Back when he was with Paul, it would have mattered. He'd want the other brother to see that he was a good fit for his younger twin. But he didn't have to prove much of anything now...

They did a bit more street seeing. Peeking into windows, looking at the bizarre food markets. Thomas was amazed at the amount of seafood for sale in Chinatown, though he supposed it made sense. The little touches and gripping they did to one another was for the sake of not getting separated, though Thomas still enjoyed them likely more than he should have. A grip to his elbow or his shoulder. A warm strong hand...

It was nearing 7:30. A little past dinner time. Thomas glanced to the blond beside him. "I say we jump continents again and head back toward 'Italy' for some pizza. Do you agree?" he chuckled. Of course the blond would agree. He just wanted to see that look of excitement and happiness fill his eyes again.

Seeming to have a pretty keen since of direction (or maybe just a strong memory), Thomas took it upon himself to lead them down streets and around corners till they crossed the line back to Spring street. Another two blocks down and they stood outside of Lombardi's. Thomas looked up at the sign, then to the other man standing beside him. He spared him a smile.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal gave a little shrug, “Yah, well that’s more Chinese than I know. All I’ve got is English and some Italian, but neither one of those count. I was born into them.”

As they walked, Sal had decided his favorite thing about Chinatown was probably the fruit vendors. The stands housed more fruit than the blond had ever seen in his entire life, some of it recognizable, but most of it strange and foreign to him. He wasn’t about to eat anything he couldn’t recognize, and definitely nothing covered in spikes weirdly colored, but they were fun to look at.

Come around 7:30, his bottomless pit of a stomach was beginning to make a little noise. Thankfully, Thomas was already a step ahead of him. A broad grin broke over Sal’s face and he gave an enthusiastic nod, feeling the buzz of pleasure and excitement filling his chest and limbs once more.

“Do I agree?” Sal snorted in amusement, “For such a smart guy, that was a pretty stupid question. ‘Course I agree, who do you think you’re talkin' to?” Knowing he might be taking a risk, but unable to stop himself, Sal reached down and clasped Thomas’ hand in his. He gave a little tug, urging the man along with him.

A short walk later, on the corner of Spring and Mott Street, was the pizzeria. A mural of Mona Lisa enjoying herself a pie was painted on the brick outside, a red awning hanging over it. Sal flashed a grin at Thomas and led the Brit over to the door and through it. There was a line, which didn’t surprise Sal – this was supposed to be the best pie in Manhattan and even if it wasn’t, being America’s first full-fledged pizzeria was more than enough to bring flocks of tourists to its doors.

Sal gave an assessing look around as they waited for a table. It was kind of cozy, the smells coming from the kitchen amazing and the décor simple, but spot on – clean, checkered tablecloths, painted brick walls with black and white photos of different people hanging off of them. The space was warm and inviting, and old Italian atmosphere thick in the air. And there was a bar too, to one side of the restaurant. Salvatore’s had a bit more space inside than Lombardi’s did, and even as he stood there Sal was considering all the things he could do in his space to flush it out a bit more. Expand it. A bar might be a good idea…
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Parlate italiano? Parli certo italiano me." Thomas spoke to the blond. Okay so maybe he did know a bit more Italian than his other second languages. It had been an effort on his part, during the earlier days of him knowing Paul. Anything to draw the man more to him. Though when he learned Paul wasn't exactly crazy about his heritage, his learning of Italian had gone by the wayside. But unlike his brother, Sal did love his heritage and everything Italian...

When he saw that look of amusement come to Paul's face, he took the teasing blow of his question being stupid. He knew it was. The hand that then took his, sent a warm tingling feeling up his arm, to settle in his chest. He gently squeezed the other man's hand in his own.

Thomas was a bit surprised to see the line outside. His eyes lifted up to watch the excited look on Sal's face. A smile returned to his own, as that happy energy seemed to transfer to him vicariously. "... It's busy," he murmured quietly. His eyes flicked around as he drank in the sight of the restaurant. Simple decor, content people, and delicious scents filled the air.

As the two men stood there, Thomas eventually realized their hands were still linked, resting comfortably at their sides. But they weren't traveling through crowds anymore. Just standing in line. No reason to hold hands right now... Not unless... No.

Thomas gently let go of Paul's hand. He glanced to the blond and spared him a smile though, to show he wasn't upset or anything. Just... holding hands for the sake of holding hands was something lovers did. Something they were not...

By the time they got in and got a table for two, it was approaching 8:10. Thomas smiled as he had a seat. He set his bags by the wall. The busy waitress was over in a few minutes. She spared the two men a smile.

"What'll be havin' tonight?" she asked. Dark hair and tanned skin, she looked like she herself was probably Italian. Thomas looked up at her and smiled.

"A bottle of your best wine, to start. I'll have a small pizza, with chicken, onion, black olives, and mushrooms," he gave a nod. The waitress wrote down his order plus the toppings, then turned her attention to Sal.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal let go when Thomas’ retracted his hand. Honestly, he had realized he’d still been holding on to the brunet. The feeling of it had all just been natural and easy to him that he’d forgotten to let go once they’d arrived at the pizzeria. The smile Thomas offered was comforting enough, letting him know it wasn’t an actual problem that he’d held on, but… he kind of actually would have preferred to just keep holding on. Never mind though, what was done was done.

When they got their table, finally, Sal slid into the seat across from Thomas and did so with a deep exhale. Relief. He was seriously getting hungry at this point. If the wait had been very much longer, he’d have had to suggest they go somewhere else. And what a disappointment that would have been. But here they were now, settled, and prepared to order.

He couldn’t help the light quirk of his mouth as Thomas ordered them a bottle of wine and his own pizza - the same toppings as he’d requested that evening at Salvatore’s. Likewise, Sal intended to stick to his own preference of pie. Too bad they weren’t going to have a hand in preparing these… though it felt strange, it was also nice to have someone else make his pizza for once. A novelty, to the blond who was used to being the pizza maker and not just the consumer.

“Medium pizza Margherita,” Sal ordered with a smile when their waitress turned to him. She was pretty, he noted right off the bat – really nice skin and hair. Clearly Italian, or at least playing the part pretty damn well. “Extra mozzarella, if ya can, Bella Donna.” He winked at the girl, not thinking much of the minor little flirt, and gave her a smile as she jotted down his order. He followed her with his eyes a little when she left to put in their orders and fetch their wine, but not for too long. His eyes went back to the man in front of him; she was pretty, but he had something a bit prettier in his opinion right in front of him.

Though striking up something with the waitress would have probably had more favorable results. Thomas had made it clear what kind of relationship the two of them were not going to have… the girl hadn’t done that and likely wouldn’t unless she was already attached. And loyal. But even so… for some stupid reason he couldn’t even begin to understand, he preferred the man he couldn’t have to the girl he likely could.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas had figured ordering the same toppings worked well to make comparisons between 'Salvatore's' and 'Lombardi's'. And a smile came to his lips as Sal followed suit. Margherita style pizza...

Though as Sal went so far as to throw out the little flirt to the waitress, the woman smiled and turned to go put their order in. Thomas watched silently, his eyes not focused at all on the woman, but on Sal. He watched his eyes. His chest tightened. Sal was just doing what came to him naturally... Though maybe he would have preferred he somehow avoid doing that while he was around the blond.

The Brit leaned back, as his arms folded across his chest. When Sal's gaze returned to him, Thomas quirked a brow. He put on a smirk as he pushed the strange uneasy feeling he'd felt earlier, away. "Well? Should I expect to let you have some 'private time' at the hotel room later tonight?" he smirked a bit. It was more of a tease... maybe the best way he figured he could let Sal know he had noticed his wandering eyes. But letting on with how he'd felt about it was not high on his priorities list. Especially when he himself didn't understand why he felt... jealous.

The waitress returned with a bottle of hardy strong Italian red wine and two glasses. She set the glasses on the table, and poured each man a glass, then left the bottle on the table between them.

"You're pizzas should be ready in about half an hour" she smiled, her eyes lingering on Sal. Then she turned and hurried off to continue waiting on the other tables.

Thomas looked to his wine, picked up the glass, and swirled the deep red liquid inside. The last time he'd had wine, had been after they'd been rolling dough, and Sal... Thomas' eyes softened as he looked at the wine. A few soft kisses to the back of his neck. As if recalling the feel of those touches, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled a bit. He brought the rim of the glass to his lips, and downed a few sips of the red wine. A smile came to his face then, as he licked his lips and looked across at Sal. "Nice body and full flavor." he mused.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal arched a brow right back at the brunet when he settled his eyes on Thomas again and found the man looking right at him with his arms crossed and brow quirked. The blond didn’t immediately know what to make of the look and posture; he didn’t have to wait long to find out though. As soon as Thomas teased him about the girl and how he’d acted, Sal passed a look first over towards their busy waitress and then back at the man across from him. And snorted, softly, shaking his head.

“Nah, no worries. She’s just pretty and I’m a healthy male,” he shrugged and let that be the sole explanation. “Doesn’t mean I’m dragging her back to the room by her hair like a caveman…” he huffed another laugh over the whole thing.

It’d all been in teasing, but Sal couldn’t help the small niggling curiosity prodding at the back of his skull. Could Thomas be…? No, not at all. You’d have to be interested in the first place to get jealous. And Thomas wasn’t interested. Again, he’d made that much very clear. So no, it wasn’t jealousy or anything like it. It was just in good fun, part of the teasing banter they had going on with each other. Knowing that didn’t stop the small spike of disappointment the realization brought though. And what a weird thing to feel… disappointed, because his semi-flirting hadn’t made the brunet jealous.

The bottle of wine was severed to them and Sal didn’t miss the smile and lingering look he got out of the waitress. He smiled back at her, but didn’t say anything this time. As soon as she stepped away his attention was on Thomas again, blue eyes watching him lift his glass to take a first taste of the wine. He smirked a little when Thomas described the drink to him – in such a prim, high-class manner too.

Taking a sip for himself, he smacked his lips a little and nodded, pleased with the selection. Setting his glass back down after a second sip, he leant an arm on the table comfortably and looked across the table at his companion. “So, tomorrow. Monday. Whatdya want to do first?”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Heh... a healthy male thing to do huh? Flirt with girls? By that logic, Thomas was an unhealthy male. Then again, homosexuality had been seen as a mental disease for numerous years before it'd finally been taken off the psychological roster of illnesses. Wasn't like there was a way to 'cure' himself either. The many phony methods that humanity had come up with typically failed the many people who tried to change who they were.

Besides... Thomas had had plenty of a fight over the past couple years to become this comfortable with who he was. He wouldn't give that up for anything, especially mental scarring that would tell him otherwise.

Thomas stole a few more sips of the wine, though a smirk escaped him at the caveman comment. "Mmm, could have fooled me. You know, you already eat with your hands. What's stopping you from any more caveman behavior?" he chuckled a bit, in jest of course. Although he'd told him he wouldn't be taking the girl back to their hotel room, Thomas had to wonder if things would have been different if he himself weren't here. If Sal was there on his own. Guh, he needed to stop thinking about that.

He finished off his glass of wine, then poured himself another. The strong drink settled in his empty stomach surprisingly well. And with nothing else to dilute it, he felt that little flicker of warmth already begin to spread through him from one full glass.

Green eyes lifted as Sal brought up the question of what to do on Monday. They'd hit Lombardi's, explored Little Italy and Chinatown... but there was still more to do and see. "I want to see the Statue of Liberty." he smiled softly. "Might as well take that trip around the harbor while we're at it. If we get anymore time for anything beside those things, then we'll figure something else to do." Thomas gave his game plan. Although he was one who liked to be prepared, he could be flexible in some ways.

A while later and the waitress returned, with a pizza in each hand. She slid the pies in front of their proper customer. "Anythin' else I can get ya?" she asked. Thomas shook his head. "I'm fine, thank you," he informed.

He looked down to the dripping gooey cheesy pizza in front of him. It looked good. Smelled good too. He then glanced to Sal with a smirk. "... You first this time."
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal gave a little glare as Thomas compared him yet again to a caveman. “Yah? Keep it up. I‘ll show you just how caveman I can be and end up clubbin’ you over the head.” He smirked, joking of course.

He watched Thomas down his first glass of wine and go for his second, brow twitching faintly. The last time they’d had wine together fresh still in his mind, he couldn’t help but smirk. Before they’d left the room Thomas had been pretty adamant about his little friend Tipsy-Tom not showing up again. Sal was willing to bet money that if Thomas kept drinking like he was, the brunet would make a liar out of himself. For a second he considered voicing the opinion to the other man, warn him or something, but then he thought better of it. What harm would it do? Might as well just let Thomas have his fun and fill, uninhibited.

Finishing his own glass not too long after, Sal decided he might as well do the same and gave himself a refill.

The food came and with it the glorious smell of herbs and melted cheese. Sal felt his stomach tighten and rumble, demanding the pie set out in front of him. He grinned when given the go ahead to dig in from Thomas and did just that, carefully pulling free a slice and lifting it up. Cheese stretched and clung, Sal breaking them apart as he folded the slice at the crust and guided the tip to his mouth for the first bit.

He hummed happily as flavor burst over his tongue, stomach settling now that it knew it was going to get the food it wanted. The sauce was good, the cheese was fresh, and he could taste the underlining olive oil and the yeast of the dough. Not as much basil as he would have added, but all in all, it was a heavenly slice of pie.

Nodding happily as he chewed and swallowed, he licked his lips and looked at Thomas, “They got a wood-fire oven back there. You can taste it in the dough.” He nodded at the other man, gesturing for him to taste for himself as he bite into his slice for a second time. Swallowing that too, he adjusted his hold on the pizza before continuing. “You gotta be the one to decided for sure which is better. Here or mine back at Salvatore’s; I got biased taste buds no matter what.” He smiled, “And be honest. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. If Lombardi’s is better, than it’s better. I’ll just have to step up my game.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas watched as Sal went about breaking off a piece from the pizza. The cheese stretched, gooey and hot. Then Sal folded the slice, as he usually did, and Thomas felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched the blond's mouth open and lips wrap about the tip of the slice. The content little sound that left Sal only caused Thomas' mouth to stretch all the more. He looked down to his own pizza. So he had to be the deciding factor on who's pizza was better. And he had to be honest about it.

He pulled his own first piece from the cheese delight on his plate. He held it delicately within his hand, as to avoid getting excess cheese and tomato sauce on his hands (though who knew if that was a battle he'd win or not). He brought the tip of his own slice to his lips, bit down, and let the taste of the wood fired pizza settle in his mouth. Tender chicken, salty olives, strong onion and meaty mushrooms melded with the spices, cheese, chunky tomato sauce and crisp crust.

He chewed slowly, as he let the strong flavors wash over him fully, before swallowing. He took another bite, before allowing himself to draw a verdict. He glanced to Sal then. "It's good pizza. But..." his voice drifted. Maybe he had his own bias, but the one he'd made at Sal's had tasted amazing. Maybe it was an inferior pizza, but the fact he'd put in his own toil into making it... He smiled a bit. "It's good, but I still prefer yours," he gave a shrug. Biased or not, was how he felt. He didn't even know the man or woman who'd prepared their pizza that evening. But when he went to 'Salvatore's', he'd seen Sal make those pies with artistry and great care. And to Thomas, that made a difference. A big difference.

He finished off his slice, between sips of wine, then went for a second gooey slice. He smiled to the other around the bite he'd taken, and he ripped off that piece with his teeth, then continued to chew.

A few slices and a couple glasses of wine later, and there was a definite cloudy tipsy glint in Thomas' eyes. But he was all smiles and very relaxed as he continued to feast on his pizza. After finishing another slice, he lifted his eyes to Sal, and even leaned his elbow on the table to rest his chin on his palm. "... Speak to me in Italian," he requested.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal paused in his own eating to watch Thomas take to his own pie. He watched and listened, curious and eager to hear a verdict despite whatever answer the brunet gave him. When he got it, at first he was suspicious. He’d told Thomas to never mind his feelings, but as he looked at the man with squinted eyes, he could see that even though there might be some bias to it, Thomas was being honest. His expression immediately shifted, blue eyes tracking the other man’s face and a smile easing over his mouth.

“Thanks,” he murmured behind his nearly finished slice. He couldn’t help but feel a bit proud over the praise, he doubted someone wouldn’t be if a guy like Thomas told them their pizza was at least a bit better than a famous pizzeria’s. Than the pies from a place that had been officially deemed ‘Best Pizza in Manhattan’.

“Think I’m gonna have to invest in a nice wood-fie stove though,” he mused between bites. “Makes a difference in the crust. I like it.”

Truly enjoying himself, Sal chewed his way through slice after slice from his pie. He swallowed generous amounts of wine between bites and soaked in the pleasant atmosphere of the pizzeria. He was sure it wasn’t just the food, drink and décor that made the experience so great though. Having good company, Thomas, around affected his mood a lot.

Warm from hot food and smooth wine, Sal arched a brow and cracked a grin when Thomas suddenly asked him to speak for him. In Italian. He was a little buzzed, not drunk, and certainly not tipsy enough that the casual manner of the brunet’s posture escaped his notice. He saw it and liked it, knowing the wine was relaxing the other man and lowering some of those inhibitions of his.

“Ok. Che cosa dovrei dire?” He paused to consider a moment, smiling slightly, “Il mio nome è Salvatore Durante. Sono un pizzaiolo. Tu ed io siamo a New York, a mangiare la pizza. E ... e ...” He licked his lips, uncertain what else to say. He looked at the man across from him, quiet for a moment. His gaze softened, Sal sighing quietly, and just said what came to mind. “E tu sei bella.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
A wood fire stove at 'Salvatore's' couldn't hurt. Thomas wouldn't deny the way Lombardi's crust was to the palette. After all, he'd eaten about half of his pizza already, though he was slowing down thanks to getting full and to the easy going nature the wine brought out in the normally polite and mannerly Brit.

The Englishman had a faint pinkness to his face. Rosy hue on his cheeks. Though it was hard to tell if it was from the wine or from the little compliment that the blond gave him, in his ancestor's native tongue. The brunet understood, pretty well. And it caused his lips to upturn at the edges. His green eyes, a tad glazed from the wine, seemed to shimmer. His gaze was solely focused on Sal. He took in the look of the other man's pleasing face. The slope of his nose. The bow of his lips. Chiseled jaw and cheekbones. And of course those pretty blue eyes.

"Pensi che io sia bella?" he let out those words, showing despite his tipsy state he hadn't missed the little compliment. His tongue trailed over his lips. He tingled all over. Maybe it was their drinks. Maybe it was something more. He was a little too relaxed to really care or think about it too hard. He picked up his wine glass, and downed the last of the wine that was in it, before filling up again.

"Non ho bevuto vino a sufficienza per accettare tali complimenti, mia bella pizzaioli." he hummed as he brought his glass back to his lips, and let out a little compliment of his own.

"Ma sarò presto…" he added, after downing a few long gulps of the wine. More than half the bottle was gone by this point, so Thomas was pretty spot on despite his tipsy state. His eyes turned a tad more hazy, as he gazed at Sal, with a look the blond had not seen in the brunet's eyes before, but he'd seen it in many people's eyes. That interested and sensual gaze...
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal’s brows shot up in surprise when Thomas responded. In Italian. The brunet understood, spoke the language. It thrilled and startled Sal all at once; so Thomas had understood his compliment, his small confession. That could be bad, certainly embarrassing. But at the same time, Thomas spoke Italian. The language Sal loved. It did something funny to his chest, warming him and hiking up the beat of his heart.

He couldn’t help but smile, once the slight shock wore off. So, he’d been caught. No reason to pretend anymore than. He nodded, “Sì. Molto bella.” He leant forward a bit, gesturing into Thomas’ face, “Soprattutto gli occhi. Hai gli occhi belli.”

A chuckle escaped him when Thomas informed him he hadn’t had enough wine for Sal to be allowed to pay him such compliments. He didn’t miss the soft words spoke for him too though, curl of his mouth softening. He picked up his own wine while Thomas tossed back more from his glass; he wondered if they’d end up demolishing this bottle like they had the one in Salvatore’s.

He paused in mid sip from his glass when Thomas continued, Sal glancing up. He was sure maybe he’d misheard, or Thomas had confused something and hadn’t meant what Sal thought he’d said. But one glance at the other’s face, at those beloved green eyes, and Sal had to set his glass aside for fear he’d drop it or something. He had seen that look before, he knew it well. Just not from Thomas. His stomach clenched, gut twisting, heat threatening to pool. He licked his lips, wine softened mind struggling to come to terms with what he knew, had been told, and what he was seeing and hearing now. Did Thomas mean what he suggested? Was that interest and sensuality real?

“I’ll buy you another bottle full if you’re bein’ serious,” he chuckled a little shakily, trying to joke, but the humor wasn’t there. He wanted it to be serious, but he was kind of afraid to assume it was. Least Thomas was teasing again.

He bit his lip faintly, gaze jumping between Thomas’ eyes and tracking over his face… his high cheekbones and smooth jaw, the fall of dark hair over his forehead and the warmth in his face. He really was beautiful – he hoped Thomas knew he’d been serious when he’d told him that. It wasn’t a joke. The brunet was too beautiful for Sal to be joking about it.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas' eyes didn't waver in their gaze. As more compliments graced his ears, the pinkness of the brunet's face seemed to deepen, though his warm lips upturned all the more. Beautiful eyes. Pa-... Sal thought he had beautiful eyes. His heart was beating pretty fast in his chest, causing his whole body to grow a bit warmer.

The last of the wine bottle was soon poured, Thomas taking the last glassful for himself. He took a hearty sip of the strong tasting wine as Sal informed him he'd gladly buy them another bottle... if he was serious about what he'd said. To get further than tipsy. To get loose enough to be so playful and uninhibited. Thomas set his glass down, as that wayward little smile returned to his features. His eyes trailed down, resting on one of Sal's hands which was on the table. One of his own lifted then, as he walked his fingers slowly across the table's surface. His hand slowly brushed over the back of Sal's hand with those familiar, long fingers. Quite different a touch, compared to the warm hold he'd given the blond on that first Brunch date a few weeks ago.

Green eyes flicked back up to meet Sal's, as that sensual cloudiness only seemed to expand, lids heavy and lashes fluttering. "Maybe... if you buy one we can take back to the hotel..." he suggested, his voice hushed. The flesh of his thumb lightly brushed along Sal's wrist, feeling over warm flesh and the bones and tendons beneath.

He didn't seem to be joking. But one had to wonder how much of it was the wine talking and how much was really Thomas. Or was the drink merely serving as an 'enhancement' which allowed him to speak the things he'd been attempting to ignore for the past couple days.

The waitress returned to the table, and likely to Sal's surprise, Thomas did not remove his hand, though his gaze did glance over to her. He straightened his shoulders a bit, and his hand eased a little, but didn't remove itself.

The waitress looked upon them curiously, before she cleared her throat and put a smile back on her face. "All done?" she asked, as she saw most of their pizza had been devoured.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal watched the curious walk of fingers to his hand, the skin there tingling and going alight under the touched. He swallowed, hard, lifting his eyes to Thomas’. The hushed suggestion, warm with promise and alcohol, went straight to his gut. He shifted in his seat, hyperaware of the sensual brush of fingers over his hand and wrist.

He licked his lips, pushing his tongue against the backs of his bottom row of teeth, still eyeing the other man. This… felt like it could be a trick, or at least end badly. Thomas was serious, yes, he could tell now, but how serious was he seriously serious? That was Sal’s question. Did Thomas mean it, or was it the wine talking? Was he only interested now because the alcohol was blurring the lines, possibly causing the brunet to forget whom he was really with? What if he thought it was Paul he was propositioning? But than again… what if he was serious, about this and about him? Him, as Sal. What if this really was what Thomas felt and wanted? If he turned that down and found out later he’d refused something sincere…

The waitress came to the table and Sal looked up at her, blue eyes a little wide. “Uh…” he started, fumbling a little. He gave his head a shake, noticing Thomas’ hand was still there on his. He needed to make a decision here and though he hadn’t had enough wine to honestly do any damage, he wished he’d drunk less. It’d be easier to make a decision then, he was sure.

A final glance at Thomas, feeling the warmth of his hand and honestly… his own want for it to be real, made the decision for him. He’d rather beg forgiveness later than miss what could be his only chance.

“Yah, all done.” He turned back to the waitress, nodding. “But, uh… could we have another bottle?” He gestured to the empty wine bottle at their table and then glanced at Thomas again. “To go.”

Lifting his thumb, he let it brush the side of the brunet’s hand. He couldn’t sit around wondering and worrying, he’d have to just go with it, with how he felt. He’d just have to hope, whatever came of this, didn’t end up ruining everything… hopefully, something good might come of it. No way to know unless he tried, right? And Thomas was now giving him that chance to try.
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