xxxNo sooner had he opened a portal to his living room was he taken by the arm. Any half-wit would have known to never make physical contact with a warlock if the warlock wasn't initiating. It was a warlock's nature to pop in and out of scenery without much warning, and if you weren't careful, you'd be taken along for the ride. But when he looked down to see just who clung to his side so naively, he realized all at once why this particular set of hands was blissfully unaware of widely known warlock truths...it was a drunken mortal, the one from before. He met his wild eyes, far more intricate than any snowflake, they were the heart of an ice-born planet; the event horizon of a white star… Strong and steady as a glacier moving ever onwards, drawing into itself that which it wishes to know, and pushing aside all else without argument. Magnus should have been more aware of his surroundings, it did not bode well that he could be snuck up on with so much ease; but he couldn't find it within him to be displeased at this turn of events. He chuckled deeply through a neat rack of teeth, the sound rolling around low in his chest. The universe seemed to be offering up a solution to his fowled mood, and he was nothing if not mercurial; adaptable to any sort of fun that may present itself no matter how challenging.
xxxHe gingerly detangled the boy's claws from his crushed velvet suit jacket, taking them into his own and patting them in a consolatory fashion. "Well aren't you a lovely surprise." He purred. His voice had an even, calming tone, but his eyes were frighteningly alive, the curve of his mouth savage and pleased. "Welcome to casa de Magnus, I suppose. I'm Magnus...obviously, since we didn't make it to introductions back in the club." He released his hold of the boy's hands and gestured grandly to a plush divan immediately to their left so that his strange guest might sit down. This situation was going to only continue to overwhelm, and he might fare better if he wasn't, at the very least, vertical. Admittedly, this was a first for Magnus as well, which were hard to come by these days when you had seen and done so much. This left him certain that the adventitious occurrence was meant to be enjoyed to the fullest. He would be no good to him hysterical or unconscious.
xxxHis laughter was like ripples in a still pond after a stone had been thrown in. It radiated outwards through the room which – up until that moment – had been quite silent, bringing Robert softly out of his reverie and drawing his attention toward the man himself. Robert’s body went still as the man pulled his hands off of his jacket, and Robert became painfully conscious of the fact that he’d neglected to let go. When the stranger spoke, Robert couldn’t find his voice. He felt his cheeks flush hot and his stomach become heavy, dropping like a lead weight. His heart pounded in his throat, threatening to break out. And despite wanting to avoid the man’s gaze and hang his head in embarrassment, Robert found that he couldn’t. He was transfixed by the stranger’s eyes, not for the first time that night; eyes which resembled sun baked soil, pale even though they were brown. Their eyes lock in mutual interest and Robert is once again left to wonder why no one ever romanticizes brown eyes. When this man looked at him it radiated a fierce, uncompromising confidence… and his smile was no different. It was a Cheshire grin of sorts, the kind that was so wide it gave the impression of wanting to eat someone rather than say hello; it wasn’t a smile of a cat who’s got the cream, but rather a fox covered in the blood of someone else’s chickens. For a moment, Robert though he should be wary – intimidated, even – but he wasn’t. If anything he was intrigued by the other man, even if he was a little anxious.
xxxIn the time it took to lose himself in the stranger’s smile, he’d gotten a name. Magnus, the man was called, and Robert only had a moment to consider just how well it suited him. All the while, his body moved on its own accord, following Magnus’ gesture to the divan sat close by. Robert slowly sat down onto the cushion, thankful now that he didn’t have to rely on his own two legs to support him. His eyes lost focus for a moment as he was absorbed in thought, trying in vain to recover any memory of coming here after approaching Magnus outside of the bar. There were none. Not one scrap of recollection. Hell, he doubted he even knew what Magnus’ front door looked like. All of a sudden it occurred to him – perhaps a little too late – that he’d yet to give his own name, and he immediately sought to remedy that. “Oh–… Robbie! I’m Robbie,” he blurted out, his voice tremulous as he introduced himself. He visibly cringed at how loud he was, his face scrunching up in embarrassment before he cleared his voice and tried again, “That’s not-… Robbie’s short for Robert. My friends all call me Robbie.”
xxx"Robbie..." Magnus tested, trying the name out on his tongue, rolling it around as he joined his companion on the couch. The soft cushions devoured him gratefully. He swung his arm indolently over the back, boxing Robbie in like they were on a movie date, fingers a breadth away from his collar. His legs crossed and his spine slid down and curved to form a relaxed and unfazed a position as was possible. He made the simple act of sitting look somehow luxurious. "Why not Rob? Don't mistake me, I am rather fond of Robbie now I think, but curious as to what that names says about you." Magnus cocked his head to the side, examining the person before him. The panic hadn't set in just yet, leaving him to wonder just what was going on up there in Robbie's head. "Were you out tonight all alone? Or did these moniker awarding friends simply leave you to your own devices? No judgement, sometimes a party of one can be quite liberating...but if someone's out there looking for you then I wouldn't want to worry them?" This statement said any other way would have sounded vaguely threatening, 'Who knows you're gone? Will anyone know to be looking for you?' Like Magnus was going to tie him up in his basement or something. Don't get him wrong, tying Robbie up was an alluring concept, but not in the way that wasn't consensual.
xxx“No, I don’t think anyone’s looking for me,” he says, ignoring all of the advice ever given to him about strangers he met at a bar. He winced, visibly flinching as he mentally berated himself for his slip up. Robert knew the risks of being in the home of someone he barely knew, and he’d only made it worse by saying he wouldn’t be missed. Maybe it was all the alcohol in his system loosening his tongue, making him speak without giving him much time to think over his answer. Nevertheless, regardless of how charming this man seemed, Robert still didn’t know much more about him than his name. If things went well he could indulge in a quick – amazing, his mind supplied – fling and be on his way, but if not… well, he could expect an interesting view of this guy’s basement for however long he chose to keep him. With a resigned sigh, Robert dug himself a deeper hole, throwing caution to the wind in order to make conversation. “My friends wanted to take me out and get me laid but I think they had better luck than I did.” he supplied, using self-deprecating humor to making himself feel more content. “And my father’s Rob, actually. He’s my namesake even though I’m not a junior. They just called me Robbie growing up to avoid confusion.”
xxxRobbie was...captivating. And Magnus Rygaard was not so easily captivated as someone who knew how to be quite captivating himself. But Robbie, he was captivating in an unintentional way which was endearing. Young people rarely used words like namesake, well young as by comparison to Magnus anyways. He was an odd, handsome little thing. "Some friends you have there, you should think of investing in new ones." He replied without malice. "But the night's still early, so perhaps luck will still be on your side." He tossed a devilish wink with the innuendo in his direction, standing on the ledge of Robbie's gaze and looking over the edge. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for that question with an inexplicable answer to be posed. How long could they go on like this? But Magnus was all too aware of the effect his home had on outsiders. You didn't so much visit his roaming palace as get absorbed. Besides, humans were constantly glossing over things they couldn't find explanation for, best not to poke and prod least you find something you couldn't wrap your fragile mind around.
xxxRealization of what Magnus had just said caused Robbie’s train of thought to come to a screeching halt. He’d been hit on before, however rarely, but not by someone like Magnus – someone who was very clearly out of Robbie’s league. Wearing an expression of utter bewilderment, Robbie felt the heat rising to his cheeks even further and prayed it wasn’t noticeable. "Who am I kidding?" he thought "Of course it’s noticeable. I couldn’t be more red if I were a ripe tomato." Robbie coughed and then dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead even though it was already there and leaving it sticking up in odd angles. “Oh-… my God — okay — uhmm… I’m going to have to hit the pause button on this for a minute.” He held up a finger to gesticulate as such, speaking with his hands as he is so wont to do in situations where he can’t quite catch his bearings. “Just a minute though, ‘cause you hitting on me is doing wonders for my self-esteem and I’d definitely like to revisit this and see where this could go. Uhmm…” he paused to arrange his scattered thoughts, “I do have a couple of questions though, before we get the ball rolling, and this one is probably the most important…. How did we get here? Exactly? I’ll be the first to admit that I’m pretty drunk – not drunk enough not to give my consent, by the way, just throwing that out there – but uhmm… I don’t actually remember how we got here? I remember walking up to you, ready to embarrass myself and get shut down, and then all of a sudden it’s like… we were here... in your… apartment? Is this your apartment?”
xxxMagnus wore a smug sort of pressed smile as Robbie squirmed, admiring the color in his reddened cheeks. Magnus himself didn't have the complexion for being flushed, but even if he had, there wasn't much out there that could make someone like him blush. He could have easily brushed over his question, it wouldn't have been difficult-distracting Robbie by pulling focus to the state of his esteem, but he wanted to see how this would play out. It wasn't as if he'd have to face any consequences...warlock perks and whatnot. A little memory altering and it would all be swept under the rug. "We teleported." He replied in a very calm and self-possessed manner. The sheer nonchalance of the statement seemed wildly absurd, surely Robbie would have to suppose he was joking. He continued, "Really, it's not you. You're verily quite inebriated, but you didn't black out. You just have fabulous taste in men, or rather, in warlocks." Magnus teemed with nervous energy, locked in an unseeable battle. His devilish curiosity at war with his lack of schadenfreude, his longing to know what Robbie would do versus his very human instinct to not cause any undue suffering. Magnus had a bit of heart, after all. None of this was reflected on the surface of his demeanor, however.
xxxMagnus’ comment was such a shock, so far from what Robbie had expected, that all he could do was just stare at the man with lips parted in amazement. His brain formulated no thoughts other than to register his disbelief, completely flat-lining for an immeasurable moment before he closed his mouth and finally came to his senses. “Warlocks,” Robbie echoes, “You’re a warlock.” There’s a minute where he seems to consider this and it ends with a single clap of his hands, his face lighting up in good humor as though he took this all for a joke. “Well you know, I’m actually a paladin myself. Not exactly the coolest class in D&D but you know… if the shoe fits. So how’d you get your magic? Did you make a pact with powerful faerie lords, demon lords, or eldritch alien beings? ‘Cause I’m not going to lie, there’s a part of me that wants to know what kind of moral alignment I’m dealing with here. God, what am I even saying-…?” Just as suddenly, Robbie appeared distressed again, struggling to discern this new reality while his mind struggled to keep up. He stood up just to have an excuse to move, pacing and running a hand through his hair out of anxious habit, “Moral alignment,” he huffs, “This isn’t Dungeons & Dragons. Sorry, I’m an idiot. I swear I’m generally a lot more astute than this; this is just the alcohol talking. Alright. So-…” he paused, takes a breath, “We teleported.” This he says with finality, as if he were trying to convince himself that this were all true. He can’t help the nervous laughter that bubbles up in his throat.
xxx“This is my life now. I’m actually at a point in my life where I think teleportation is a more likely alternative to someone playing a role-playing game. Which, to be fair,” he says, turning to Magnus, “is an accurate assumption. I mean, I’m usually not one to judge a book by it's cover, but you’re ridiculously hot and the only people that do that sort of thing are people like me… and I got beat up a lot in high school.” Disrupting his own rambling with a vigorous shake of his head, he exclaimed, “That’s not the point. Okay. So you say we teleported… and that you’re a warlock. Alright, noted. I think — for right now — I’m just going to suspend my disbelief for a second and fuel my curiosity… if that’s alright.” Whether it is or not, Robbie doubts he’d be able to keep his mouth shut. And as his mind struggles for questions, he stood there practically vibrating in his skin, a restless ball of nervous energy. “Can you do other magic?” is what he asks in the end, “Destruction spells? Alteration? Illusion? Conjuration?”
xxxMagnus had no clue what D&D was, nor just about anything else Robbie was effusing about, but he did like the enthusiasm with which he was speaking. How had humans become so aware? There was something to be said of the half assed brand of accuracy they impossibly tangled up with their own fates. His resulting expression was one of indulgence. He also didn’t mind all of the compliments he was being paid, sure lushes and drunks were made for flattery, but he purred silently with private satisfaction anyway.
xxxIt was a veritable crime that anyone could punch a face like Robbie’s, children were oft the cruelest of creatures, but before he could comment, he was off again launching into a new frantic line of questioning. Magnus would really have to address this later, with or without Robbie’s knowledge. He had a certain distaste for bullies, despite his demonic lineage, and he was quite skillful with finding just the right punishments that would ironically match the original crime. He was no superhero, but braggart antihero for cute boys? Perhaps it was to be considered…at the very least it would bring a mild bout amusement.
xxxHe squared his shoulders, trying to pin down the conversation from spiraling. “Alright.” He announced by way of opening. “First, I made no manner of pact. No aliens or fairies involved, but I am half demon.” He resisted the urge to flash a set of slitted pupils, after all, the goal was not to frighten. “I can perform many sorts of magic, all of the above and more…Would you like to see?” He posed, hoping to ease him into it and also to provide sufficient proof of claim. The trouble was just figuring out what sort of magic would amaze and impress, but also not overwhelm and startle. This ruled out a great deal of Magnus’ favorites. He leaned forward expectantly. Even sitting, he remained eye level with his standing guest.