Tintin considers.

"Well, I might. I mean, you're handsome, and... I guess I'm still looking for something."

"Looking for what?"

"...well, if I knew I'd be getting it. But for now, I guess just... something new."

"Heh. I can give you new. And I'm just looking for a good time, and you do seem like that." He knocks back the rest of his ale. "Your room or mine? Actually, you'd have trouble standing in mine. Let's do yours."

"Sure," Tintin says. He downs the rest of his drink, and stands. "Do you need a hand?"

"Fuck off."

Chilchuck hops down to the floor, landing with a solid thump and straightening up.

"I just wanted to be sure you were safe."

"Keep talking shit and I'm not the one who's going to be unsafe."

"I feel you should know that I respond to threats by doubling down," Tintin says archly.

"I will bite you. That isn't a threat, it's a promise."

"As long as it's bedroom-appropriate."

"Ugh. You're already filling me with regrets."