Angel Dust

It's not subtle because it's a deliberate parallel on Valentino's part. Maybe not quite so vulgar, but he watches that little pink tongue dart out to wet his lips and he holds still as Anthony leans in barely less than an inch to catch the paper between them, his gaze steady and focused. Nearly the second Anthony starts to exhale, Val brings the joint back to his own mouth and takes another hit, aware of the faint dampness left behind on the rolling paper.

The mild accusation isn't necessarily wrong, but it isn't right, either. Valentino didn't tell Anthony's father what he saw because in his opinion, it's not anything worth bringing attention to, but he'd be lying if he tried to deny he wasn't interested in Anthony. That he hasn't been, for quite a while now, maybe since he first laid eyes on him however long ago. Valentino chuckles, a low sound caught in his throat that sends some smoke spilling from his mouth. He blows the rest of it out, away from Anthony, and then meets him with a tilt of his head and a lift of his brows, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

He reaches out with his free hand and catches Anthony's chin between his thumb and two fingers, and he's both surprised at how soft his skin is under his fingertips, and not surprised at all.

"Careful, mi corderito," he teases, just a notch above a murmur. Valentino continues to hold his face for another second or two, dark eyes drinking him in. He's not sure he's ever had the opportunity to look at him this closely before, and he won't let the chance slip through his fingers now.

But then he gives Anthony's jaw a lightly little shake, and adds, "At least make a man take you to dinner first."

Valentino lets him go then, but his hand doesn't go very far. He touches his middle and index finger to the center of Anthony's chest and gently guides him back a step. As much as Valentino would love to jump at the opportunity to have Anthony on his knees in front of him, as many times as he's imagined it before now, he reminds himself that they have time. Valentino orchestrated it that way.

He tilts his head toward the half-packed suitcase and finishes off the rest of the joint. "Pack."