fourstrings | When the world is too dark

[ The Evergreen has a strong no-assholes policy. This is undermined somewhat by the fact that Nick basically runs it now, but it means he can use himself as a gauge. If anyone’s a bigger asshole than he is, they get kicked out.

Steve is the kind of asshole who should have been kicked out way earlier. That’s on Nick. He was over-cautious, cut the guy too much of a break, because running this bar is the only thing that has him making enough cash to keep up with his responsibilities. He’d worried that word would get around that The Evergreen wasn’t a friendly place anymore, and he’d ruin the reputation Al had carefully built up for it over the years, drive customers away. And it’s not just because Al’s basically promised him the place and it’s his future he’s gambling on, but respect for Al. He built Nick sure as he built up this bar, and the very least Nick can do in return is not tank it. And in fairness, Steve had started slow: the kind of coarse jokes that are mean instead of funny, taking sly digs at people. Way too much flirting with women beyond the point it became clear that they didn’t want to be flirted with, at least not by Steve. Nick finally found his balls the night he’d rounded the corner to check there was enough paper in the johns and seen Steve caging a girl in against the wall, face leaning in even though hers was twisted adamantly away. He’d grabbed the man by collar and belt with no regard for the fact that Steve had a good three inches and 20 pounds on him, marched him out the door, and told him not to come back, ever.

Which means that Steve is now going on the Wall of Shame, and he’d been such a dick about it Nick wants to make it a special occasion. There’s a little florist across the street that’s probably gonna close down any day now, judging by the amount of foot traffic they get, so before opening the next day Nick heads over to give them a little last bit of support. There’s a little bell that rings cutely as he pushes the door open, a blast of welcome cool, fragrant air, and… the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on behind the counter. Blond hair in one of those trendy cuts that look goofy on most people that aren’t pop stars but somehow suits him just right, big eyes shaded with long lashes, a sweet little beauty mark.

Nick stops dead just inside the door, confident that if he takes one more step without preparation he’s gonna trip over his own feet. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Oops. ]

I was hitting on you. Gonna save the rest for when you're sober enough to tell me to stick it up my ass with a clear head.

Wait, no! [ emphatic head-shaking. he almost takes himself right off the stool. ] You should definitely keep doing it.

[ firmly: ] I'm not drunk. I only had two!

's a bad look to get someone all liquored up for free and then make a pass at 'em. Even for someone with a cool outlaw name.

[ But he's grinning now, his own cheeks maybe getting a little pink, because Vash telling him to keep doing it definitely makes it seem like his interest is reciprocated. Which he was... already pretty confident about, but it's nice to have near-confirmation. ]

Here's my best offer: I can tell you I'm looking forward to spending more time with you when I'm not working and you're not at least tipsy on the cocktail I invented for you because I think you're hot and interesting.

[ if vash was sober, he'd totally agree with this logic. and even better, he'd be charmed, because it's sweet that this guy is into him and not letting that override the urge to try and take care of him.

unfortunately, he is not sober.

and wolfwood is calling him hot, saying he wants to spend more time with him, aaaand...

somewhere along the line, vash's eyes have just gotten kinda stuck on the other guy's mouth. it's a nice mouth. ]

Soooo... what are the rules if I wanna make a pass at you? [ leaning a little more of his weight onto the bar. ]

You can do it. I'll decline any... uh, intimate invitations 'cause I'm on the clock and trying to at least pretend to have a moral code, but I'll feel real warm thinking about them after I finish.

[ Even saying that is probably over the line if he's trying to be strictly non-creepy, but how can he help it? Vash isn't just hot and interesting, he's got the kind of puppy vibe that makes you wanna be real careful you don't accidentally kick them. ]

And I'll text you Friday night to see if you're still up for Saturday. I can promise to be real gracious about it if you suddenly remember you're having a PJs and cartoons emergency.

[ there's a whiiiine of protest. listen, vash isn't the type of guy to fool around on the first date -- there's a whole host of reasons he's usually not the type to fool around at all, but this guy makes him want to chuck all of that right out the window.

it's not fair. he's wanted to put his mouth on wolfwood's since about five minutes into meeting him, and now that he knows it might be welcome, he's supposed to sit nicely on his stool and behave? torture. cruelty!

but that makes a lightbulb go off. ]

You wanna just come over instead? [ which is blunt as hell, but something about this guy makes him a little unhinged. ] That way you can bail me out if any emergencies pop up.

I won't.

[ But he can give a little, at least, so he reaches out and puts his hand over one of Vash's. ]

But if it helps, you make me wish I was the kind of guy who would.

[ oh. ohhh.

okay, fuck it. he's gonna climb right over this bar and put his mouth on wolfwood's mouth. and if wolfwood bans him from the bar afterwards and commissions vash to design his own funeral wreath, he's gonna use red flowers, because those are his favorite!

fortunately (?), he's only managed to rock forward about an inch before the front door of the bar slams open hard enough to hit the wall. and listen, the streetlights outside are perfectly decent, so there's no logical explanation for the way this guy appears like a looming shadow, voice booming like god when he says VASH.

vash swivels towards the sound of his name, and just says oh, fuck in lieu of any reasonable explanation. not, for the record, like someone about to die, but very much like a kid who just realized mom is pulling into the driveway and they've forgotten to defrost the chicken.

the guy marches over, absolutely seething, and doesn't even do wolfwood the courtesy of eye contact when he slams a hundred dollar bill down on the counter and snarls something about his tab. and then he dips forward, plants a shoulder in vash's stomach, and proceeds to heft him up like vash weighs less than nothing. and vash is immediately squirming like an offended cat, protesting with a what, hey! put me down! that definitely sounds more affronted than afraid. but the guy pays about as much attention to this as he does to the fact that the entire bar has now gone dead silent, all eyes on him, swooping right back out the door.

(when vash bites him on the elbow, legato does consider throwing him in the trunk and driving him home that way. it's only the knowledge that knives would kill him, and not even in a sexy way, that has him dump vash in the backseat instead.) ]

When the world is too dark

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