Quinn took a sip from the glass offered, as much to test the quality of the wine as to quiet the growing anticipation in his chest. He sighed contentedly as the rich red swirled across his tongue, enlivening his taste buds with mouthwatering fruity notes. Blackberries, cherries, plums, and there, a hint of dark chocolate skating along the palate! He closed his eyes and felt his lips curl into a gentle hint of a smile as lingering notes of vanilla and an earthy, woodsy flavor danced along the curve of his tongue and down his throat. Gentle fingers settled along his back, easing him forward, and Quinn was more than happy to oblige.<br/><br/>“Though I shouldn't be surprised, I must admit your taste in wine is exquisite,” he purred, fingers cradling the glass delicately. “As much as I enjoy it now, I'm sure it will truly come alive once we indulge in this venison you've so graciously prepared.”<br/><br/>Polite interest remained the dominant expression on Quinn's face as Mikkel led him around the superbly decorated home. Though beautiful, nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. A lovely, well-established home for a lovely, well-established man.<i>Such a large house for a man living alone, </i>he thought to himself, hoping his assumptions that Mikkel just happened to be a handsome, wealthy, successful, single older man was not so ridiculous a possibility, though it certainly sounded unlikely the more he replayed the adjectives in his head. Quinn lingered at the chessboard, examining the various pieces as Mikkel encouraged him away. Just as his host's back was turned, Quinn's fingers took hold of a black bishop, moving it across the board swiftly and snatching up a vulnerable white knight. “Check,” he whispered, setting the knight off to the side before joining Mikkel.<br/><br/>Quinn was happy to be ushered into a room he couldn't initially place. A work station of sorts, but certainly not something he expected to see in the home of a surgeon. His eyes roamed, vaguely curious, for only a few quiet seconds before his attention was directed to the neat line of bones along the workbench. Like a child stumbling upon a treasure trove of rare toys, Quinn's face lit up, smile stretching from ear to ear as he greedily reached for the piece in Mikkel's hand.<br/><br/>“May I?” he asked, voice dripping with excitement. “Bone is such a beautiful medium,” he cooed, examining the smooth, milky-white material. “I have a large collection of jewelry carved from bone. Pendants, earrings, and the like. I don't have any piercings, I just simply adore the idea of plucking a piece of discarded refuse from a decaying body and using it to make art. Beauty can be found even among rotting corpses. Who would've guessed?” The young man chuckled, gingerly replacing the bone to its home before turning back on Mikkel.<br/><br/>“This is wonderful,” he exclaimed. “If this is your work space, you must have somewhere to showcase the finished products, no? Do you predict I'll be lucky enough to view any of it tonight? And if not, what would I have to do to turn my luck around?”