Totally Not A Date. Date.

[notjustaface]

Things have been good, work has been good. On the whole, it's business as usual. Maybe a few more nights in, passing up a pretty girl he could have had without thinking from time to time, but after a few solid months he's back to his old self.

Back to his game. Back to good friends and one night stands with the occasional brush with death just to keep things fresh. Back to boxes tucked away neatly with minimal shaking in the back of his mind because he doesn't have to think about it.

Base housing is comfortable living for the moment, a small house split two ways with a room across the hall from his best friend that doesn't put too much of dent in his stipend. And, it's bro-night. Dinner that may or may not kill him, a movie complete with Murdock's hand-puppet commentary and a few beers. Maybe other things, if it's a good night.

He's fresh from the shower in nothing but a pair of loose shorts when he follows the familiar tang of scorched meat in the air from the tiny back patio. "You cookin', Murdock?"

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[notjustaface]

The far off strains of a saxophone might tickle his ear, but for the moment he's more focused on his plate, dishing sides onto Murdock's plate and then his own as usual.

"It is... nice..." he chuckles slightly, licking his lower lip. Different, but not bad.

[notthatcrazy]

he catches the hesitance.

"What, you don't like my ambience?"

[notjustaface]

He turns his head just enough to catch his eyes, flashing a smile that's only half bullshit.

"I love your ambiance." Taking a sip, the wine is distinctly of the cheap boxed variety but no less pleasant. "And the excellent wine list."

[notthatcrazy]

They're back on familiar ground with the jokes.

"Yeah, well, it was either red wine or Kool-Aid, and somehow I didn't think that went with the meal."

[notjustaface]

It's comfortable, nice.

"I prefer Kool-Aid with chicken." He nods, smiling into his glass before returning it to the table to work on the meal.

He's got to admit, it is kind of nice. Almost domestic.

[notthatcrazy]

"I'll remember that."

It's peaceful. Kind of a nice respite from the general ridiculousness and occasional life-threatening peril their work entails.

[notjustaface]

A little ridiculous is good for the soul. A lot of it is... well, kinda their lifestyle.

It's not the first dinner they've had, not even the hundredth but there's something about the flicker of candle light on chipped plates that makes it feel kinda special.

When the song changes, a familiar low bass croons over the speakers in the background and he can't help but chuckle under his breath.

[notthatcrazy]

He chuckles softly.

"Forgot that was on that CD..."

[notjustaface]

His grin spreads, stretching his lips. He's gotta admit, it's kinda infectious.

"Oh, darlin' I... can't get enough of your love babe..." he mimics into his fork between bites.

"So cheezy... is this one of those infomercial compilations?"

[notthatcrazy]

"I buy weird crap when I can't sleep sometimes."

He may be making a piece of broccoli do backing vocals.

[notjustaface]

It's easy to get lost in the moment, maybe a little too easy. Swaying side to side in his chair, soon enough he's singing along in his best horrible impression.

"What kind of love is this? That you're givin' me?"

It's silly and just the sort of thing that sometimes happens.

[notthatcrazy]

It's gotten easier and easier over the years. He grabs the saltshaker to use as a microphone as he croons along with the next line.

"Is it in your kiss, or just because you're sweet?"

[notjustaface]

In turn, it's gotten easy to let go and sometimes let the mask slip with a bit of silly - and it's the best thing Murdock's ever taught him.

"... all I know is every time you're here... I feel the change - Somethin' moves - I scream your name..."

His voice cuts out with a small laugh he won't identify as a giggle. But damn it...

[notthatcrazy]

Yeah, by that point he's laughing so much he can't continue.

"Thank you for that..."

[notjustaface]

Collecting himself, maybe a little flushed in the cheeks, Face manages to stifle his giggles in a bite of cheese that may have at one point touched broccoli.

"Well, if anyone should be subjected to my vocal stylings... it should be the guy who bought Cheeziest Love Songs volume forty."

[notthatcrazy]

"Aw, you know I love our duets."

It's really true.

"Dinner's good?"

[notjustaface]

They are almost disturbingly fun. Even the ones where he gets saddled with the falsetto femme. And if Murdock ever tells anyone that he sang Cher's part in I Got You Babe, he does know how to dispose of the body.

"Mmm..." he licks his lips, following with another bite for consideration. "Maybe. On both counts."

By which he means yes.

[notthatcrazy]

He does hit the high notes well.

"Just maybe?" He mock-pouts at him.

[notjustaface]

It's a gift.

Grinning into his wineglass, he offers an affectionate eye roll.

"It's delicious. Thank you." And he means it, really. As much as he pokes at Murdock's cooking, it's more than a shade better than he does for himself.

[notthatcrazy]

"Any time."

It's worth it for those moments when he gets to see him let his guard down.

[notjustaface]

It's a soft, unspoken affection - but it's there. Nobody else gets to see half of what he does, even when they're not naked.

Settling into a quiet comfortable rhythm, it's easy to talk shop - the Apache Murdock's working on, the short deployment looming closer overhead every time Face catches a few spare hours with the colonel - until the last bite is tucked in his belly and he relaxes back against the chair, content to watch Murdock push the remnants of rice around his plate.

"Dare I ask if there's dessert?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Would I serve you dinner without dessert?"

Come on, give him a little credit.

"Movie's already in the player if you wanna get started. I'll bring it out to you."

[notjustaface]

"Sure thing," he groans, managing out of his chair - he knows better, there's always dessert. The question is, will it be covered in chocolate or sprinkles... or chocolate and sprinkles.

He takes his time clearing their plates to the sink with the unspoken compromise that he who cooks does no dishes - and that dishes can be done in the morning - before heading back to the sofa to settle down into his seat.

"Princess Bride? I haven't seen this in like two decades..."

[notthatcrazy]

"Well then you're way overdue."

He doesn't even ask if he likes it. If he doesn't, there may need to be some rethinking of the relationship.

"And voila! Dessert is served," he says in his best "snooty french chef" voice. The banana dish he presents should look rather familiar, except this time it's caramelized and served over ice cream.

[notjustaface]

Swashbuckling is pretty awesome, and if he remembers right it's pretty funny. Besides, even if he doesn't it's still comfy time.

The smell tips him off first, the unmistakable tang of curry mingling with sweetness. In a bowl on top of ice cream? Nice touch.

"Mmm... That smells amazing."