“I believe the general consensus around the Institute is that I’m quite boring,” Elias says mildly. He must immediately see in Jon’s expression that it is, in fact, the general consensus – at least from what he’s gathered from the Researchers team – because his lips curl up ever so slightly, eyes crinkling in the process. “I’m neither surprised nor offended,” he adds, like he’s being kind to Jon. “I’m their boss and quite an old man.”
At this, Jon actually rolls his eyes. “Right,” he says sarcastically. “No way to connect with the youth in your grand old age of – what, fourty-five? Fifty?”
Elias’ smile deepens. “You flatter me, Jon.”
He actually sounds amused, and Jon cannot resist. “Fifty-five?”
“At my age, we don’t count the years anymore,” Elias retorts, eyes bright.
Jon takes it exactly for what it is: a challenge. Elias won’t tell him – but he’s assuming Jon will find out anyway. It’s a ridiculously easy challenge; in this day and age, your birth date is hardly a difficult information to find. But it thrills him all the same. And even if somehow Elias had made it harder to gather, well, Jon’s a researcher. He could ask Sasha and he knows he won’t.
“They’re wrong, anyway,” he says, impulsively.
Elias raises his eyebrows. “About what?”
“You’re not boring,” Jon says. “Nobody else in this Institute knows as much as you do about… everything.”
It was incredibly rare, Jon had found, to catch Elias by surprise. He’d only managed once or twice before, and even then he wasn’t certain Elias hadn’t pretended to be surprised more than anything. Right then, though, something crosses Elias’ eyes, sharp and fleeting, that roots Jon to his chair.
“…Thank you, Jon,” Elias says, a bit too late. His voice has significantly softened, and something too warm creeps up Jon’s collar. “You most definitely are a very interesting man yourself.”
