<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">Mikkel used the moment as an opportunity to determine the younger man's level of interest in him. If he didn't return the contact - or worse, shied away - he knew where the boundary laid. But as Quinn reached for him, laid a hand on his chest, he knew that if there was a line, he had not yet crossed it. Quinn made things very clear in that regard, and Mikkel knew then where the evening would lead. Eventually. But for right then, Quinn wanted to eat. Patient, that one. All the better. They had time.<br/>
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"Blasphemy, indeed," he concurred, before following the other man out of the workspace. Quinn navigated the halls as though he knew them well - a resident rather than a guest. Patient <i>and</i> attentive. It took him little effort to find his way into the warmly decorated dining room, to a long mahogany table with two place settings flanked by polished silverware. If nothing at all, his attention to detail even in simply setting the table conveyed his willingness to invest time and effort in their first dinner together. Mikkel was not a man of simple tastes. Fortunately, it seemed that neither was Quinn.<br/>
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"I would hardly dream of putting you to work when it was <i>I</i> who invited <i>you.</i>" Placing his glass down on one side of the table, he stepped over to the seat opposite, going as far as to pull out Quinn's chair, encouraging him to sit. "Please. I won't be long."<br/>
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So said, Mikkel vanished from the dining area to check on dinner. It took all of a few minutes to take the food from the oven and transfer it to plates, which he carried back into the dining room in due course, laying one in the space in front of his dinner companion. Even when it came to plating, it seemed that Mikkel had an eye for the aesthetically pleasing, for even the placement of the food and ratio of meat to vegetables looked entirely deliberate. Everything planned and in its proper place.<br/>
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"I happened upon this recipe during a visit to southern France. This is only my second attempt," he noted, "so you will have to tell me if it needs adjusting." Shifting, Mikkel brushed a free hand along the space between Quinn's shoulder as he passed, lingering all of a moment before moving to the seat across from him. A respectable gap remained between them; comfort space, just in case Quinn had his doubts. Though as yet, nothing had indicated as much. If any doubt had lingered in Quinn's mind after their first meeting, it was very unlikely that he would have traveled to the home of a perfect stranger for dinner - much less show such enthusiasm.</span>