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]

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."

[notthatcrazy]

"She's my favorite."

Dory is everyone's favorite.

[notjustaface]

Good deflection, ten points.

"I get the Dad too, though. I mean - he's so scared of things going wrong that he never does anything unless he has no other choice. I mean... what kind of life is that?"

[notthatcrazy]

"And you totally get why he's so scared, 'cause he's lost almost his entire family."

He nods.

"Thus the brilliance of this movie."

[notjustaface]

Brilliance, maybe... but definitely not style.

"Man, if it was me though I'd say that's even more reason to live life to the fullest."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah. But don't forget, he's got his kid to look after too."

Someone's having a lot of feelings.

[notjustaface]

Fair enough.

He takes a few more bites, considering the shark scene quietly with mild amusement.

"Yeah, but... the closest thing I have to a kid is you... and you're crazier than I am."

[notthatcrazy]

He laughs and swats him on the arm.

"That's weird, man."

[notjustaface]

Snorting at the playful swat, Face reverts back to finishing off his dinner with only a curious smile.

After he's done, he dares to ask; "Yeah, but tell me you don't want to go down in a blaze of fuckin' glory?"

[notthatcrazy]

"I ain't plannin' on that happening." He pokes him. "But if push came to shove, I'd rather go down fightin'."

[notjustaface]

"We all gotta go sometime..." he murmurs under his breath, offering a mostly innocent shrug.

"I'm pretty sure I'll die with you in flaming helicopter crash after some insane stunt trying to avoid going back to prison."

[notthatcrazy]

"You're optimistic today."

He knows his trust that things will work out borders on naivete at times, but that's still pretty dark.

[notjustaface]

He can't help it, it's a dark and pessimistic road in his well-traveled mind.

Catching the sarcasm, he plants another greasy-fried rice kiss on his temple and murmurs; "Or we'll die alone together wrapped in silk sheets making love when we're old and wrinkly."

[notthatcrazy]

"That's more like it."

He turns, catching him in another kiss.

[notjustaface]

His hand just happens to be right where it can rest on Murdock's t-shirt - and his shirt was totally tugged out of his jeans of it's own volition. Honest.

"Stranger things have happened." He grins into the warm kiss, nipping his lower lip.

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah... like us gettin' together in the first place."

He's not complaining, of course... but it's still kinda weird.

[notjustaface]

He cocks an eyebrow, letting his lips linger on the corner of Murdock's mouth.

"Like us staying together."

In retrospect, he doesn't doubt they would have slept together eventually. It's no small feat he hasn't slept with most of the people he's spent a significant amount of time with. But staying together? That's a big deal.

[notthatcrazy]

"That's not weird. That's me bein' stubborn and in love with you."

[notjustaface]

"It's special," he responds almost defensively. Nobody else had ever been stubbornly in love with him before.

"And I mean that."

[notthatcrazy]

"I know you do."

Finished with his meal, he wraps his arms around Face's shoulders.

"I think I like special more than weird."

[notjustaface]

"We are just all kinds of special, baby."

He laughs, catching himself drawn again to the movie and then back to Murdock's warm eyes.

"But it's the best kind."