Mature for sexual references.
He stepped back, one arm crossed over his chest and the other resting in its crook while he smoked. Figaro's reflection continued to admire itself. The only thing really missing were cufflinks and a tie clip. One could always use a charm to keep the tie in place but it was nice to match one's cufflinks to something, if one wasn't into wearing jewellery.
A corner of his mouth twitched, smile turning into one of those sardonic Slytherin affairs. She got all cross with Fig, did she? Virgil was familiar with that brand of horny - some of his past flings[1] thrived on fucking the smugness out of him - but he refrained from bringing that up.
Instead, he approached his dresser and opened the second drawer to look for cufflinks while they chatted about flowers.
"I'm dating Cepheus, yes..." the blonde trailed off for a moment, looking at the rows of rings, pendants, brooches and cufflinks neatly arranged on old velvet. "I buy my own but he gives me flowers too. He sent me flowers even before[2] we were dating. That's just how he is, I think. I like to cook for him."
Virgil's tone was matter-of-fact, betrayed only by the colour in his cheeks. His habit of talking exuberantly about Cepheus had somewhat tapered off. He was too shy now to talk of beautiful hands or thick, glossy hair. Real intimacy with those aspects made him self-conscious.
He stubbed his cigarette out in an old coffee cup, then picked a set of plain silver cuffs and matching clip. "Your witch, does she get you any other gifts, if not flowers?" Virgil gestured for Figaro to hold out his hands so that he could put on the cufflinks.
"These are real silver by the way, I hope she isn't a werewolf."