( with his new glass at the ready, curved into his palm, he takes one glance at that stupid look on hawks' face--and laughs, a snort of it despite himself; to excuse the smile, he drags his new glass up for another swallow. the beer's cold, and it helps temper down the heat bubbling beneath his skin.

at least it doesn't seem like they'll be at each other's throats, which is good enough for him. he's got enough trouble in this place without having to keep a watchful eye on some nosy fake hero. )

Yeah? You worried you weren't?

( a small tease, as he takes another swallow of his beer. )

You spread yourself out for me real nice in the arcade one time. Flat on your back on the air hockey table, legs spread, kinda begging for it.

( it's an echoing drawl, his free hand lifting, a palm skating through the air as though in indication; it's not a fully accurate description, but for once, he isn't lying, either. )

Guess you're gonna have to do it again to see if it was worth it.