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"Sorry excuse?" He smirked, voice heavy with ironic humor. Though again, the jab didn't seem to rile him much. He stayed a few steps behind Ever as they exited the hall completely and found themselves I'm the much more open bar. He glanced that wat, but there didn't appear to be anyone working it at the moment. It was early yet.

Looking back at Ever, he offered another lax roll of his shoulders. "Can't make a living with charity cases. I'm sure she'd rather pay than die." And really, to be fair, Ezekiel's fee was not half so steep as it would have cost to fetch someone properly certified.

Head tilting very slightly, he pegged the other man with a look. "Do you really care that deeply for her, or just delight in giving others a hard time?" Zeke's bet was the latter, though given they worked together, maybe a little of both.

"I can, because I don't work for free." It seemed a fairly circular argument to Ezekiel. Pale eyes were roving around the large room, taking it all in with a mild sort of interest. Establishments like these always looked so much different devoid of the bodies that kept them alive. Smaller, dimmer, almost sad.

He clicked his tongue as he turned back to the blonde, now behind the bar. "You aren't wrong about not going hungry." It has sounded like an accusation, but Zeke didn't feel bad about it. Granted Zeje felt bad about very little. "Most of the money I make assisting those in need goes into paying for the essentials to continue to do so."

Oh, now there was a bold statement. Brows crept up again, lips pulling in that easy smile again as pale eyes followed that skinny figure as far as they could before he was turning to head out of sight. "Do you? And what type is that?"

He didn't bother chasing after him. Either he'd come back, or he wouldn't. Instead, Ezekiel took the few steps that would bring him to the bar, then turned and rested his side against the counter. His bag was set beside him.

"Come again?" He tossed casually as Ever came back into view, though the other man was already talking as he walked.

Crossing his arms loosely across his chest, Ezekiel looked down on the other man as that challengeing tone returned, and the source of the almost animosity became just a little clearer. "I don't think we ran in the same social circles."

Ezekiel's family were wealthy, but they didn't hold any lines, or titles. His father had worked, a doctor, and Zeke had attended a normal, albeit nicer, grammar school before heading to university on scholarship. What money the Young family had, they had earned through hard and consistent work, not inheritance.

Another amused snort, pale eyes rolling up and away as he gave the barest shake of his head. He was being profiled by a noble cabaret runner. It was certainly a unique kind of afternoon.

"Well I considered having a drink." He dropped his hands to his sides, fingers curling over the edge of the bar as he glanced over his shoulder at the empty bar. "But it doesn't look like you're open to patronage just yet."

The smile slowly slipped from Ezekiel's face as Ever slid in close, overly close. Surprise registered in hazel eyes, as he looked down into that smiling face, not exactly uncomfortable, but unsure what to do in the current situation. It wasn't the first time he'd had someone make overtures at him, but it was the first time such overtures had come from another man.

Again, his father would have responded with disgust and violence. Ezekiel just stood there, puzzled. Distracted enough that he didn't notice the nimble dip of fingers into his breast pocket, or the theft of the watch.

"What are you implying?" Sheltered from the taboo, this was all new territory.

Anatomy lessons. Ezekiel's brows creased, but Ever was drawing back before the physician-in-training could formulate a response to that, or even decide how he felt about Ever's too-close proximity.

"Right." Dark fingers tugged at the bottom of his vest as she straightened again, then he was reaching for the bag.

The last minute had left him a little out of sorts, and Ezekiel was not keen on being thrown, in any sense of the word. He regarded the blonde with a thoughtful look for a moment longer, then made his leave through the front down without a another word.