[Nate's personal experience with the cartel is slim, but in Colombia it isn't wise to run afoul of any of the primary distributors and knowing that Sam had a brief hand in that once is concerning - not for the potential drug use, but for the members of the country's biggest murderous organization. "Cutthroat" is a gentle term for describing their methods.
Bolstered by Harry's reassurance, however, Nate's shoulders relax and he nods a little, eyeing the hand on his thigh with a mildly incredulous look. (It isn't that Flynn has been excessively frosty toward him for a long time, as he comes across an affectionate guy, but Nate always thought it would be an actual decade until he earned some kind of approval from Harry to participate in the jobs he and Sam run. It's nice to know Flynn has warmed up to him.)]
Oh, right. You got it.
[Slipping away from his piece of driftwood, Nate rounds the fire to flip the top on their cooler and rummage through its contents: cerveza, cerveza, a flask with unknown contents, an unmarked bottle with a peeled label, cerveza. Nate pulls out an Aguila and frowns into the fire for a moment, a quick glance over his shoulder and down the beach, before moving back to Harry's side. He offers him the beer.]
[Nate's reaction is a bit of a surprise, but he doesn't seem to be repelled by it so he doesn't worry too much. It's not exactly the first time he's touched Nate- there've been back pats, hair ruffling, things you'd do to a friend's kid brother. But it's the first time he's touched him with any sort of camaraderie, like he does with Sam.
Sam doesn't get a hand quite that far up his thigh, but whatever. Same thing.
He takes the beer from Nate and immedeately pries the cap off with his teeth. Sure, there's a bottle opener, but it's allllll the way over there. He's got strong teeth, it's not a problem.]
Sure. What's got your trousers in a twist?
[Harry looks down the beach too, curious to see what Nate's looking for. Huh, nothing.]
[His eyebrows just about touch his hairline when Flynn bites the damn cap off, and it makes Nate's pop with his bare hand look like such a pussy move. It's not that he isn't confident in his own skills, or too self-absorbed not to admire Harry's, but it's a stark reminder of comparative experience and that's exactly the kind of thing he wanted to (anxiously) talk about.]
Well, uh.
[Beer in his nervous grasp, Nate continues to peel strips of the label free, curls of damp paper on the sand between his feet.]
I'm not- [He starts. Stops. Starts again.] I haven't-
[Nate casts another glance down the beach in the direction that Sam disappeared, to hit up the local corner store for them in the hopes they might sell him another case of beer. As difficult as it is for him to form the words - to a sort-of friend, anyway - it would be a lot harder if Sam were to return mid-conversation.]
...Sam's been trying to- he keeps pushing girls on me. And. I haven't exactly...been with one. Before. You always seem pretty good with women, a-and I can't talk to Sam about this-
[If a beer could ever be medicinal, it would be right about now. Harry's caught between the chills and overheating, and if he didn't know better he'd suspect he'd been slipped something. But no. No, it was just himself, teetering on the edge of being a pervert. He takes a few deep pulls from his bottle, draining half before he thinks he's calmed himself enough.
Welp. ]
Wh-
[Harry chokes on a mouthful of beer, but thankfully he only inhales a little. The coughing isn't so bad.]
Oh. Ah, alright. Well. Sam's just looking out for you, yeah? It's harder to make a connection when you're on the move like you two are, so he just...[Wait a tic.] You said you haven't been with a girl before. Have you...?
["Sam looking out for Nate" is a Hell of a lot different from this, because this is "Sam trying to get his little brother laid," which wouldn't be problematic if Nate had any remote experience in the act. (He's not an idiot, he knows how babies are made even if the orphanage was lacking in its sex education for middle-schoolers, but everything tends to sound all right in theory.)]
I haven't...at all,
[Nate grits, feeling his cheeks grow hot in the fading light. He'd chalk it up to sunburn if the sensation didn't come on so quickly.
There's a defiance there that is preparing itself to lash out at any potential ridicule.]
[Harry's surprised to find himself a hair disappointed, but the way he's been feeling since Nate peeled his shirt off it really shouldn't be. More than anything it's a relief. For a moment there it looked like he was going to be the recipient of a nervous gay teenager's first coming out and Christ he was not prepared for that.
He notices that Nate doesn't chafe under the suggestion that there might've been boys, though. Interesting.]
Well. [Harry settles back into his chair, staring out at nothing in particular. Definitely not at Nate.] What are you looking for? Would you like him to stop? Because I can talk to him later and tell him to crawl back out of your arse about it. Or...
[He trails off then, chancing a look at Nate. He looks so earnest, so genuinely distressed in that way only teenagers (!) can be. Poor lad, nervous about having no skills and being a virgin (!!!), like he's some kind of freakish anomaly and not every other 17 year old ever.]
[In fairness, Nate isn't sure what he likes. Girls are pretty, definitely. Guys, yeah, they can be handsome. But he's also at a stage where he's not certain whether his appreciations for both sides are objective, but neither does it really matter. People like who they like, right?]
Tips?
[he sounds dubious, but the question lingering at the edge of his tone isn't meant to offend. Nate scrubs anxiously at the back of his neck for a moment, staring into the fire.]
Y'know, tips. Like...how to charm the knickers off a bird [He pauses, then backtracks.] O-or a bloke, I suppose, I don't really know much about that, but...
[Harry stumbles to a stop awkwardly, more lost as to how to approach this more han anything else. Maybe if Nathan here wasn't being so bleeding distracting he would have the regular, unearned confidence he usually exudes about these kinds of matters. Add to it that he's still not sure if he's actually looking for girls, and here we've got a minor internal crisis.
[This feels awkward. Nate is already getting an overwhelming sense of secondhand embarrassment just from Harry being put on the spot, and he's not even the one with the birds-and-blokes issue.]
Yes!
[Nate snaps defensively, folding his arms over his chest and protecting what little he has to protect. He's kissed, sure, sweet and quick things, a couple deliciously messy ones here and there that he sort of had to adjust to, but it's never been a major issue. Nate likes kissing, has made it one of the things he does well when the occasion arises, and he's never received any complaints.]
Yes, obviously, I've- I've made out with people before. Geez.
Hey, hey, don't get defensive. [Harry holds up a hand, as if to smooth out Nate's defensiveness manually. Which, you know, wouldn't be the total worst right now.] The way you were talking made it sound like you'd never touched a tit before, I just needed to know.
[Oh god. This is hell. Is this hell? Mum was right all along, it does exist. After a long moment of contemplation and internal distress, Harry hauls himself from his spot and reaches into the cooler for the mystery liquor bottle. No clue what it is, all Sam had said was there was an old man who he played cards with and who gave it to him. No telling what the fuck it was fermented from—and honestly? He doesn't quite care at the moment.]
D'you know if you're any good? Girls, they melt for that kind of thing, it's easy to tell if you're shit at it.
[He's touched a couple of boobs in his day, which isn't saying much at all - and shouldn't be anything to be proud of - but that's the approximate extent of his anatomical know-how regarding the fairer sex. Nate is hopelessly new at this, and doesn't think he can fend off Sam's pushing forever, but since he has so little experience he has made a point of excelling in at least one thing.]
Uh, I'm pretty damn good at it.
[Comes the confident reply, and for the first time in this conversation Nate seems to exude an earned honesty. While he may not necessarily have gotten his hands any further than second base, he has it on good authority that he is, in fact, an excellent kisser.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
uncalendula) wrote2016-11-06 12:11 am
no subject
Bolstered by Harry's reassurance, however, Nate's shoulders relax and he nods a little, eyeing the hand on his thigh with a mildly incredulous look. (It isn't that Flynn has been excessively frosty toward him for a long time, as he comes across an affectionate guy, but Nate always thought it would be an actual decade until he earned some kind of approval from Harry to participate in the jobs he and Sam run. It's nice to know Flynn has warmed up to him.)]
Oh, right. You got it.
[Slipping away from his piece of driftwood, Nate rounds the fire to flip the top on their cooler and rummage through its contents: cerveza, cerveza, a flask with unknown contents, an unmarked bottle with a peeled label, cerveza. Nate pulls out an Aguila and frowns into the fire for a moment, a quick glance over his shoulder and down the beach, before moving back to Harry's side. He offers him the beer.]
...hey, can I ask you a question?
no subject
Sam doesn't get a hand quite that far up his thigh, but whatever. Same thing.
He takes the beer from Nate and immedeately pries the cap off with his teeth. Sure, there's a bottle opener, but it's allllll the way over there. He's got strong teeth, it's not a problem.]
Sure. What's got your trousers in a twist?
[Harry looks down the beach too, curious to see what Nate's looking for. Huh, nothing.]
no subject
Well, uh.
[Beer in his nervous grasp, Nate continues to peel strips of the label free, curls of damp paper on the sand between his feet.]
I'm not- [He starts. Stops. Starts again.] I haven't-
[Nate casts another glance down the beach in the direction that Sam disappeared, to hit up the local corner store for them in the hopes they might sell him another case of beer. As difficult as it is for him to form the words - to a sort-of friend, anyway - it would be a lot harder if Sam were to return mid-conversation.]
...Sam's been trying to- he keeps pushing girls on me. And. I haven't exactly...been with one. Before. You always seem pretty good with women, a-and I can't talk to Sam about this-
no subject
Welp. ]
Wh-
[Harry chokes on a mouthful of beer, but thankfully he only inhales a little. The coughing isn't so bad.]
Oh. Ah, alright. Well. Sam's just looking out for you, yeah? It's harder to make a connection when you're on the move like you two are, so he just...[Wait a tic.] You said you haven't been with a girl before. Have you...?
no subject
I haven't...at all,
[Nate grits, feeling his cheeks grow hot in the fading light. He'd chalk it up to sunburn if the sensation didn't come on so quickly.
There's a defiance there that is preparing itself to lash out at any potential ridicule.]
...Not yet, anyway.
no subject
[Harry's surprised to find himself a hair disappointed, but the way he's been feeling since Nate peeled his shirt off it really shouldn't be. More than anything it's a relief. For a moment there it looked like he was going to be the recipient of a nervous gay teenager's first coming out and Christ he was not prepared for that.
He notices that Nate doesn't chafe under the suggestion that there might've been boys, though. Interesting.]
Well. [Harry settles back into his chair, staring out at nothing in particular. Definitely not at Nate.] What are you looking for? Would you like him to stop? Because I can talk to him later and tell him to crawl back out of your arse about it. Or...
[He trails off then, chancing a look at Nate. He looks so earnest, so genuinely distressed in that way only teenagers (!) can be. Poor lad, nervous about having no skills and being a virgin (!!!), like he's some kind of freakish anomaly and not every other 17 year old ever.]
...I can give you tips?
no subject
Tips?
[he sounds dubious, but the question lingering at the edge of his tone isn't meant to offend. Nate scrubs anxiously at the back of his neck for a moment, staring into the fire.]
...I mean- yeah, tips would- what kind of tips?
no subject
[Harry stumbles to a stop awkwardly, more lost as to how to approach this more han anything else. Maybe if Nathan here wasn't being so bleeding distracting he would have the regular, unearned confidence he usually exudes about these kinds of matters. Add to it that he's still not sure if he's actually looking for girls, and here we've got a minor internal crisis.
Christ. He needs whisky.]
Have you even kissed anyone yet?
no subject
Yes!
[Nate snaps defensively, folding his arms over his chest and protecting what little he has to protect. He's kissed, sure, sweet and quick things, a couple deliciously messy ones here and there that he sort of had to adjust to, but it's never been a major issue. Nate likes kissing, has made it one of the things he does well when the occasion arises, and he's never received any complaints.]
Yes, obviously, I've- I've made out with people before. Geez.
no subject
[Oh god. This is hell. Is this hell? Mum was right all along, it does exist. After a long moment of contemplation and internal distress, Harry hauls himself from his spot and reaches into the cooler for the mystery liquor bottle. No clue what it is, all Sam had said was there was an old man who he played cards with and who gave it to him. No telling what the fuck it was fermented from—and honestly? He doesn't quite care at the moment.]
D'you know if you're any good? Girls, they melt for that kind of thing, it's easy to tell if you're shit at it.
no subject
Uh, I'm pretty damn good at it.
[Comes the confident reply, and for the first time in this conversation Nate seems to exude an earned honesty. While he may not necessarily have gotten his hands any further than second base, he has it on good authority that he is, in fact, an excellent kisser.]
No complaints yet.