Playing House: Less Top Gun, More Cocktail

[notjustaface]

The new job isn't bad, he's only been working a week and they've already upped his hours to almost full time - working the happy hour till after dinner shift six nights a week. Somewhat as he'd expected, the tips are good... really good, and getting better as he starts to draw a regular crowd of people that are drawn to the kind of guy that does what he does.

Which is essentially being shameless.

As it is, it's almost six-thirty and he's already stripped down to his jeans and a bar towel slung over his shoulder - sweat (and just a little bit of the tequila a VIP asked to take a shot of off his abs) shining up his torso. It's kind of his element... like it or not. And admittedly, he kind of likes it... even with his rings on he's the center of attention.

"You missed your calling as a stripper." The owner smirks, handing off a pair of empty glasses to pass back to the dishwasher. "There's more money in it."

"I like this!" He protests, pouring out a double and a vodka martini. "Besides, I'm married." He holds up his finger as though she hadn't clearly seen the evidence when he applied.

"Honey, you think they care?" She raises an eyebrow toward a group of women approaching the bar - clearly ready to party.

"On it, boss."

Comments

[notjustaface]

It just feels like they're already running out of time - soon enough they'll be back on the run with no stability, no sense of self.

"You're quiet..." he sighs, wrapping a dried arm around Murdock's shoulders as he takes the initiative of toweling off his partner's hair. "You mad at me?"

[notthatcrazy]

He dodges away from the towel, shaking himself dry like a wet dog before finally giving in.

"Nah, of course not. Why would I be?"

He just doesn't trust himself not to push the issue too far if they keep talking about it.

[notjustaface]

"I dunno..." he lies, rubbing the towel a little more gently before he leans in and brushes a kiss on his warm shoulder.

"You know I love you, right? I wouldn't do anything you didn't want to do."

[notthatcrazy]

"I know, babe."

He leans back against him, the feeling of warm terrycloth against his skin strangely comforting.

[notjustaface]

"Hungry?" He asks, a little eager to change the subject to something less heavy. "I'm sure there's some Chinese in the fridge that's still good."

Leaning against him right now makes it okay, no matter what. He can cope.

[notthatcrazy]

"Hmm. I could eat."

He wraps an arm around his waist, starting to relax again.

"Maybe a movie?"

They never actually got around to scavenging a used TV, but they've got a laptop and a handful of old DVDs.

[notjustaface]

"Sure... set it up, I'll heat up something."

It's a comfortable time, and he's gotta admit it's nice to have time to be comfortable and just exist.

He tosses the damp towel in the hamper and kisses Murdock's ear before letting him go. "It'll be fun."

[notthatcrazy]

"Sure thing."

Once they're settled, he picks out a DVD from his secret Pixar stash and starts it up, waiting until he hears the tell-tale beep of the microwave to press play.

[notjustaface]

Half-dancing, letting his tired mojo work back up from where it was when he left the bar, Face returns to the bed with a pair of plates and a soft smile on his face.

"You have your choice of noodles or rice, both with chicken and spicy sauce." He can't remember what they actually ordered any more, mostly because Murdock's method of food selection tends to involve a random number generator.

[notthatcrazy]

The more random, the better.

"Noodles, please."

He immediately presses close against him as he hands him his plate and settles in beside him.

[notjustaface]

Plate with fork dispensed, Face is content to curl up close against him with his rice - brushing a slightly greasy kiss to his cheek after the first bite.

"What's on the player tonight?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Finding Nemo."

He gestures to the screen, where a group of animated fish are gathered.

"... I always forget this one starts off sad."

[notjustaface]

"Nothing quite like good old fashioned Disney parental death to kick off fun for the whole family," he smiles, but admittedly... it's a bit sad.

"This is why we don't live on a reef."

[notthatcrazy]

"Sure, that's the reason."

He nudges him affectionately, taking another bite of noodles.

[notjustaface]

"Well that and we're not fish..."

Which is secondary, clearly.

[notthatcrazy]

"That would make it harder."

He's thinking of half-forgotten past conversations as he chews a bite of chicken thoughtfully.

"It'd be nice to live by the ocean, though."

[notjustaface]

"Mmm..." He moans around a bite of rice and spicy veggies, squeezing his arm tighter around Murdock's waist.

"One of those beach houses up on stilts like the islanders have."

[notthatcrazy]

"We could take the dog out for walks on the beach... not have to talk to anyone unless we wanted to."

It's a nice thought, though there might as well be talking fish involved for how likely it is to happen any time soon.

[notjustaface]

"Maybe a houseboat." He lets it roll, if they're fantasizing he may as well go along with it.

"Just pull up anchor when we feel like it and go somewhere else."

[notthatcrazy]

"Just drop a line over the side to catch dinner."

The fantasizing's fun and all, but it does tend to put the reality of their situation into focus.

"You talked to the others lately?"

[notjustaface]

The simple reality is that they're stuck... and far as Face is concerned there is no endgame where they walk away clean.

Humming a little at the pleasant mental image, and so not the score for the movie they're watching... honest, he answers; "Checked in with Hannibal this morning. He's not impressed that I'm working a straight job."

[notthatcrazy]

It's good music.

"He thinks it's too risky?"

That seems to be Hannibal's main objection to the whole endeavor. That, and to him it looks like they're giving up.

[notjustaface]

"Among other things..." He sighs into his rice.

After another bite, he adds; "He doesn't trust me."

[notthatcrazy]

He frowns, squeezing him a bit tighter.

"You wanna talk about it?"

He can guess the answer to that.

[notjustaface]

There isn't much to say, the boss is sure he'll fuck it up... he's not exactly sure he won't himself.

"Not really."

He nods toward the laptop; "I like the blue fish... blissful ignorance."