Here Comes The Night (Peter, Casual) -FIN-

[SHERLOCK HOLMES]

It was far too easy to notice how Sherlock could further please Peter, as the man's responses were blatantly obvious - such as the fact that he sported a huge grin whenever he made 'Max' laugh. And no, by picking up on these things and using them to his advantage, Sherlock wasn't manipulating the man, by all means. For Sherlock to not notice the subtle ways Peter grew increasingly content with 'Max's' words would be like any ordinary person not noticing a shout. And if he had the information to make the other man even happier - well, he was hardly going to ignore it, was he?

“Oh, I very much appreciate them. Believe me, if I had the patience to squeeze into pants like that, I’d hope someone would appreciate them, too.”
Peter's statement arose a sense of slight confusion for the consulting detective, though he thought it best not to let this show, as he was quite sure what he was puzzled about wasn't something that an ordinary person would find challenging. The fact was, it really hadn't taken him very long at all to put the trousers on. It was, after all, just a pair of trousers. But then, Sherlock really was rather skinny - and they probably simply highlighted the fact to the point that they looked uncomfortable. Perhaps Peter didn't understand that the trousers had been tailored for that purpose. That was probably it.

“I could sit and enjoy this smell all day, someone should bottle it.”

Holmes granted Peter another amused chuckle at that, before giving a sort-of lopsided smile that managed to make 'Max' look somehow younger - and (ignoring the fact that 'Max' was actually just a rather bored consulting detective half-way through a case) rather endearing.
"Profumo di caffè," Sherlock suggested, voice even lower with a spot-on Italian accent.
That moment, naturally, was when Sherlock needed to pay less attention to the stranger beside him in favour of the man who had just appeared behind the bar. The man who knew Sherlock Holmes rather well (a long story of a long-ago trip to Italy after finishing University, and years later stumbling upon a newly-opened cafe not weeks after arriving in New York, to find a man with a long-lasting gratitude and the memory of an elephant), and looked for all the world as though he was about to declare a celebration at the sight of the consulting detective.
Fortunately, Peter was otherwise occupied with staring at the menu. So Sherlock, trusting that the man did not speak Italian, fired off a quick:
"Due tazze di Kopi Luwak e finta che tu non mi conosci per favore," to the barista, who nodded before doing what was asked with a curious smile.

“This was a fantastic idea, you definitely know how to show a guy a good time.”
Sherlock smirked, wondering whether or not Peter was aware that he had based a great deal of their conversation on very blatant innuendos. Not that 'Max' seemed to mind, really.
"Bit early for that, isn't it?" Holmes shot back, before guiding the other man to a table not far from where they stood.


OOC: Emmy does not speak Italian, so Emmy is trusting that Google Translate has not made complete bollocks out of the sentence she was trying to get Sherly to say. ;)

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"Profumo di caffè. Due tazze di Kopi Luwak e finta che tu non mi conosci per favore."

Peter quirked his head, listening to that accent. Now, that was...Peter didn’t want to think about how he really wanted to see if the man kissed like he sounded. That was practically delicious. He’d never been one to fall for accents, but that accent with that coffee tone was just...yeah, he could turn into an accent slut if they were all like that.

“I have no idea what you just said, but if you want to keep talking like that, I sure won’t mind,” Peter told him, smiling a bit.

The man was buying him good coffee, speaking in those dulcet tones, and clearly he was no fool. If Peter could ever get over his own hang ups, well, it didn’t pay to go there. So he wasn’t about to. Right then, this man had coffee and was guiding him over to a table, smiling in a way that drew him in.

"Bit early for that, isn't it?"

Peter snickered a bit at that, amused by how well Max kept up with him.

“Oh, it’s never too early,” Peter assured him, giving him a sly little grin that he’d practiced in the mirror a few times just to make sure it actually was. “The anticipation is half the fun.”

It was like talking about chocolate cake. You could talk about it all night and by the time you finally ate it, you couldn’t imagine cake being any better. It was the same with what they were doing now. If they built the anticipation with all the coy talk, well... it was going to be a decadent cake.

“Now,” Peter paused to sit down. “Let’s see if this coffee is as good as you said it was. If you're right about this, I can imagine the rest of the night will be quite enjoyable.”

Two could play at this game, after all.

[SHERLOCK HOLMES]

Holmes returned Peter's sly smirk with ease, as the other man assured him that 'the anticipation is half the fun'. That said, the Consulting Detective was fairly certain that the 'fun', would be quite more than a mere twice as exciting at the anticipation.
Sherlock vaguely wondered whether Peter was thinking anything along the same lines. So far, Peter had been both fascinating yet charmingly easy to please - Sherlock merely had to fire the man's words and actions back to him and he practically buzzed.

When the two were seated, the barista placed the two cups of Kopi Luwak on their table, and Sherlock nodded a brief 'thankyou', before his attention was once more focused solely on Peter. They were the only two in the place, so it wasn't difficult to tune out everything else.

“Let’s see if this coffee is as good as you said it was. If you're right about this, I can imagine the rest of the night will be quite enjoyable.”
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, giving a wonderfully small yet noticeable smile in return.
"I'm never wrong," he assured, barely fighting to keep the underlying smirk from his eyes.

Holmes pushed one of the cups of coffee firmly toward Peter, taking an experimental taste of his own. A spike of gratitude blossomed somewhere in his chest at the barista's superb ability to make fantastic coffee. But then, that was Sherlock's opinion. For all he knew, Peter could find Kopi Luwak to be extremely distasteful.
The Consulting Detective briefly wondered how the evening would proceed if that were the case. He would know if the other man was lying, and said he did like when he actually thought it revolting, after all.

Pushing the thought from his mind, 'Max' leaned forward in his seat, elbows perched on the table and his chin resting in his hands. He stared at Peter with quicksilver eyes, constantly awaiting and analyzing every series of micro-expressions that crossed the other man's face. When he spoke, it was with a deep tone, the sentence more like a gentle breath of air than anything else.
"I'd like to know your verdict, Peter."

Sherlock was fed up with echoing the man's flirting techniques back to him. He assumed his own flair would work much better, as evidenced by Peter's reactions to his speaking Italian to order the coffee.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter watched as Max raised an eyebrow, challenging Peter’s words.

“I'm never wrong."

Bold words. He would definitely have to back up a statement like that. Peter watched as he pushed a cup of coffee over, the brew sloshing in the cup, throwing the intoxicating scent into the air. Peter was already itching to just swallow it back and get another six and he hadn’t even tasted it yet.

He felt exposed, like he was the only thing in Max’s world as he leaned on his elbows and observed him. It was almost unnerving, but Peter’d met unnerving people before. He could definitely stand up to the scrutiny

What he couldn’t stand up to was the breathy, "I'd like to know your verdict, Peter." That sent chills down his spine, not in fear or eeriness, but rather in arousal. Max had a voice that dripped sex, but when he put it to work, it practically poured.

He reached for the cup, bringing it up to his lips and watching Max over the rim, tasting the coffee. It was dark, rich and spicy like coffees from Africa tended to be. It was quite good – not the best he’d ever had, but it was pretty close. He felt his eyes slip shut in pleasure, batting them open again to send his companion an appreciative look.

“I’m starting to believe you were right when you said you’re never wrong. This is fantastic.”

He took another sip, enjoying the brew and observing the man across from him. He’d gone from being a random stranger with tight pants to being a fascinating man who could read him like a book, to this man sitting across from him with an almost predatory look and a voice that made Peter physically react. Had anyone told Peter that this was how his night was going to turn out, he wouldn’t have believed them.

Normally he would have run from situations like this where it got too deep to just be considered something casual. Now all he wanted to do was finish this coffee, speak to the man for as long as he could, and after that...well, it went without saying.

“So now that you’ve plied me with coffee, I can’t imagine what you’ll do for an encore.”

It was true. He was terribly suggestible when he had caffeine in him. It was how he managed to get drug into things that he would have normally avoided. This man was far too good at this game for being a pretty little virgin, but Peter could fix that.

“I can make some suggestions, but I’m starting to enjoy letting you take the lead in this.”

He really was. Normally he directed things and made sure that they went exactly the way he wanted, but with Max it was intriguing to just let things happen.

[SHERLOCK HOLMES]

Sherlock smirked broadly, shifting his head to rest in one cupped hand whilst the other arm lay flat on the table, his index finger idly tracing thoughtless patterns into the wood of the table.
Through the mixture of 'Max's' intense concentration, and as it turned out (yes, that was definitely a reaction - really, Peter was far too charming for a man like Sherlock) his voice, Holmes gently pushed the not-quite-stranger into a zone the consulting detective himself was rather uncomfortable in. But then, the strange man's method of learning had always been to throw himself in at the deep end and pretend that he knew what he was doing. And he had always been quick to master a new skill.

“So now that you’ve plied me with coffee, I can’t imagine what you’ll do for an encore.”
At this, Sherlock raised a single eyebrow with a quirk of his lips. It was most likely blatantly clear what such 'encore' would probably be. Though, it seemed as though Peter was suggesting that Max entertain him a little beforehand. Well, he might as well give it a go. Sherlock doubted that the course of the night ahead would alter simply because 'Max' was shit at small talk.
“I can make some suggestions, but I’m starting to enjoy letting you take the lead in this.”

"Starting to?" The man repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly with the proposition of a challenge. "Well then Peter, I shall have to insure that you appreciate my 'taking the lead' a little more than that."
If anything, the consulting detective had learned that flirting could be applied somewhat like Mathematics - in that it required a form of calculation. And he had to admit, both were rather elegant subjects.
Sherlock figured he might as well do what he always did, and use what he had to get what he wants.

"Ho notato la tua reazione in precedenza. Ti apprezzare il suono di una lingua diversa, o la mia voce? Ad ogni modo, sono sicuro che semplicemente parlare per un po 'avrebbe la capacità di ... farti piacere. E 'un peccato che non capisci quello che sto dicendo. Davvero."
Sherlock spoke slowly, giving each syllable the chance to flow thickly like the coffee they drank. Afterwards, the man managed somehow to lean even further towards Peter, and muttered.
"Italian truly is an eloquent language, isn't it?"
He allowed a grin to shadow the corner of his mouth, expecting Peter to realise that 'Max' knew full well what the other thought of the man speaking Italian.
"I shall remember your interest in the language later."

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Max was highly expressive. He could have a whole conversation with his eyebrows. Peter normally found that to be cheesy, but it seemed to be so much of his personality that Peter found it to be just a natural extension of who he was. There was nothing cheesy about it. In fact, it was almost sultry. It wasn’t fair how much he pushed every button Peter had and he had no indication if he was doing anything in return. He hoped that he wasn’t boring the other man.

"Starting to? Well then Peter, I shall have to ensure that you appreciate my 'taking the lead' a little more than that."

That eyebrow quirked a bit as his eyes narrowed at the challenge. Peter found he was paying more attention to the man’s expression than his words. Still, the tone got him and he knew that he had just pushed one of Max’s buttons. Clearly, he liked a challenge, and because he liked a challenge, he was upping his game. It sent a bit of a thrill through Peter. He was the kind who was always pushing the limits when it came to this kind of thing. Everyone warned him that it would get him killed one day, but he was willing to chance it when it was this exciting.

Then came the Italian. Peter listened as best as he could, but it was far too abstract from any language he knew. It got to him because it was beautiful and exotic and sounded like coffee, but he would have liked to have known exactly what he was saying. Max leaned closer with each word, finally returning to English.

"Italian truly is an eloquent language, isn't it? I shall remember your interest in the language later."

“You know, that’s really not fair,” Peter replied, hoping for sure that Max would be using more of that language later. He was sure it would be a memorable night. “You know exactly how interested I am in the...language.”

Oh, it was more than the language. It helped, oh boy did it help, but Max on his own was intriguing enough. He hadn’t been around someone like him in a long time. Years, even. He took another sip from his cup, keeping eye contact with the other man, not stopping until it was empty. Oh, it was so very good, but he knew that the rest of the night would be even better.

“Oh look, I’m out of coffee,” Peter pointed out coyly, a slight smirk on his lips. "Are you going to buy me another or shall we try out the pot at your place?"

Preferably in the morning when they'd need it after a long night of not sleeping. Either way, he was leaving the ball in his court. He was enjoying his time with Max, and if that meant more coffee, then he was perfectly happy to sit and drink his drug of choice.

[SHERLOCK HOLMES]

Sherlock felt an intense buzz of achievement at the reactions he provoked from Peter. The man was far too entertaining - really, it shouldn't be allowed. And if only the near-stranger knew how successfully he had attained such a difficult task - to hold the Consulting Detective's attention for so long that he was genuinely quite incapable of thinking of anything else with his focus solely concentrated on their conversation.

“You know exactly how interested I am in the...language.”
It was a line that made Sherlock find himself, once again, smiling widely at. It certainly was a fortunate coincidence that he and this almost-stranger (he supposed they weren't so much so, at that point) had such things in common that 'Max' was able to hold Peter's interest so thoroughly. And, marvellously, vice versa - though Sherlock wasn't quite sure whether the other man was aware of that.
He found himself rather hoping that he was.

Any thoughts Sherlock then had were blanked quite suddenly from his mind, when Peter then raised his coffee cup to his lips, and slowly drained what was left. For some reason, the Consulting Detective was unable to look away for the unnecessarily drawn out amount of time before the other man lowered the cup.
Now that wasn't fair.

“Oh look, I’m out of coffee,”
'Max' made a low sort of humming sound, which was apparently some kind of affirmation.
"Are you going to buy me another or shall we try out the pot at your place?"

There was a brief moment of an odd sort of silence, before Sherlock managed to move.in one fluid motion, he picked up the cup containing the rest of his coffee, downed it like a shot and darted upright from sitting to standing in a small number of seconds.
From there, the man simply walked the perimeter of the table and leaned down next to Peter, one hand reaching to grasp the other man's arm as he moved to mutter a low whisper in his ear.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask."

And, with absolutely no warning (but under the impression that Peter wouldn't mind terribly if he were to 'take control' of the situation for a moment), he strode toward the cafe's door, trailing the other man behind him.

Somehow, he had flagged down a taxi as soon as they were stood in the street.