Context is everything. Eliot normally wouldn't be caught dead without shoes in this sort of outfit, but they are right next to a pool. He's got on a pair of boat shoes, which can be easily slipped off when they decide to start dipping their toes in.
By the time Mal arrives, Eliot has found a spot, set himself down on the stones, and opened the first bottle. He's nursing his first cup. He hadn't been about to put himself on pause while he waited, but he hadn't wanted to make too much headway.
"You're fine. I literally had nowhere else to be." He lifts the open bottle and pours some into what will become Mal's cup. "...which is still a really nice thing to be able to say."
After he sets down the bottle, he takes up his own cup and clinks Mal's with it, lightly.
And Mal wouldn't have expected Eliot to just sit and twiddle his thumbs while waiting, so he just smiles when he sees Eliot nursing a drink and with a second cup ready for him.
"It is kinda weird, isn't it? Not having anywhere to be, not having to keep a real schedule. If I was lazier, I'd get myself in trouble." He chuckles, and sits next to the taller man, accepting the cup and toast with familiar grace.
"I'm dealing with a lot of shit that lands on my doorstep for legitimate but ultimately frustrating reasons."
He isn't leaping to go into the whole High King thing. Or the specifics of said shit. Those things may come up — it might be inevitable, eventually, if he and Mal keep seeing each other — but that's stuff you don't just drop on a person, even when you have both been sucked into an alternate dimension ruled by fairies.
"Someone told me to treat this like a vacation, and I almost couldn't do it." Though he didn't entirely fault himself for that. "I mean, if they want people to fuck for their entertainment and not freak out about it, they could just ask, but that's beside the point." Which is: "Home is very busy."
"Mm. Yeah, I get that." The implication of Responsibilities is more than enough to put them on the same page- Mal has his own back home that he has only barely thought about since coming here.
He flexes his feet on the stone, splaying his toes and then wriggling them idly.
"It's a vacation, but one that goes on forever and you can't leave when you want, that makes it kinda 'gilded cage' territory. Plus, you know. The fucking, which not everyone is really into normally." He flashes a small smile, indicating that he, at least, doesn't mind it so much. As long as he can pretend no one's actually watching him. "But faeries aren't exactly known for doing things by anyone's rules but their own, I knew that even before I got here."
He's dealt with fairies before. That catches Eliot's attention, and has him thinking back to their first encounter in the fog. That flicker of shadow he'd seen in Mal's presence.
"And knowing is half the battle," he quips. "Even if, with fairies, a little knowledge can get you screwed over eight ways to Sunday."
He takes a sip of wine before going on.
"I had my own run-in with a different set of fairies, shortly before getting pulled in here. Someone made a deal to save my ass, and wound up giving away something she shouldn't have had the right to." His jaw clenches momentarily at the memory. He isn't furious with Margo anymore, but the whole situation... "It made it impossible to take this all at face value, for a while."
no subject
By the time Mal arrives, Eliot has found a spot, set himself down on the stones, and opened the first bottle. He's nursing his first cup. He hadn't been about to put himself on pause while he waited, but he hadn't wanted to make too much headway.
"You're fine. I literally had nowhere else to be." He lifts the open bottle and pours some into what will become Mal's cup. "...which is still a really nice thing to be able to say."
After he sets down the bottle, he takes up his own cup and clinks Mal's with it, lightly.
no subject
"It is kinda weird, isn't it? Not having anywhere to be, not having to keep a real schedule. If I was lazier, I'd get myself in trouble." He chuckles, and sits next to the taller man, accepting the cup and toast with familiar grace.
"You kept busy back home, then? A lot to do?"
no subject
He isn't leaping to go into the whole High King thing. Or the specifics of said shit. Those things may come up — it might be inevitable, eventually, if he and Mal keep seeing each other — but that's stuff you don't just drop on a person, even when you have both been sucked into an alternate dimension ruled by fairies.
"Someone told me to treat this like a vacation, and I almost couldn't do it." Though he didn't entirely fault himself for that. "I mean, if they want people to fuck for their entertainment and not freak out about it, they could just ask, but that's beside the point." Which is: "Home is very busy."
no subject
He flexes his feet on the stone, splaying his toes and then wriggling them idly.
"It's a vacation, but one that goes on forever and you can't leave when you want, that makes it kinda 'gilded cage' territory. Plus, you know. The fucking, which not everyone is really into normally." He flashes a small smile, indicating that he, at least, doesn't mind it so much. As long as he can pretend no one's actually watching him. "But faeries aren't exactly known for doing things by anyone's rules but their own, I knew that even before I got here."
no subject
"And knowing is half the battle," he quips. "Even if, with fairies, a little knowledge can get you screwed over eight ways to Sunday."
He takes a sip of wine before going on.
"I had my own run-in with a different set of fairies, shortly before getting pulled in here. Someone made a deal to save my ass, and wound up giving away something she shouldn't have had the right to." His jaw clenches momentarily at the memory. He isn't furious with Margo anymore, but the whole situation... "It made it impossible to take this all at face value, for a while."