milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There's a Darien at the bar, sipping on coffee that's more sugar and milk with some coffee than the other way around. He's also munching on a breakfast sandwich of some sort.

He's edging on needing to go home, but he's got a couple more days till he has to head out and he intends to enjoy them.

[ooc: mun at work]

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"Thanks. Do keep up with the body heat thing. It's rather nice." He grins, closing his eyes. "I suppose I need to cut back on the playing guitar out by the lake until the snow melts. Pity. Cold air carries sound so well."

He looks down at Charlie with a grin.

"You could wear a coat and some boots."

"I like my sweatshirt," Charlie mumbles, snuggling deeper into it. He regards his very-worn-out trainers with a sigh. "Boots wouldn't hurt."

"Know what to get you for Christmas then."

And that earns him a kiss on the top of the head.

Charlie grins and snuggles more. "So what do you want? I'm not even sure what sort of stuff you like--aside from Coronas and sandwiches. And me, but I can hardly wrap myself up and put myself under the tree." Pause. "Unless you really want me to."

He shakes his head with a laugh.

"Nah. That means I'd have to wait till morning."

He looks speculatively at Charlie.

"Know where to get a nice set of lockpicks?

Charlie gives an equally speculative look back. "Would you still respect me if I said yes?"

"I'm asking for them, aren't I?"

Charlie nods in assent, then says, "I do know where to get some and I know people who know how to use them--whether I can get to where I can buy them is another issue."

He looks at Charlie, disbelieving.

"You're sitting on someone who knows how to use them."

"Well, you're not the first, is all I'm saying.

"I can't get to my London, is my point. David's London, Richard's London, any other number of Londons, yes. But if I can't get to my own London then me knowing from whom to buy lock picks doesn't do either of us much good."

"I'm not?"

He doesn't sound jealous or even surprised. Just intrigued.

Charlie's ears turn a little pink and he mutters, "Had some hard times after the band ended. Had to pay the bills somehow."

He chuckles.

"S'how I've always paid the bills, Charlie. In fact, I think it's kinda hot."

Charlie leans his head against Darien's neck. "It wasn't even, like, stealing industrial secrets or something exciting. It was petty theivery because I was desperate. You wouldn't have liked me in those days. I didn't like myself much, but addiction'll do that."

He shrugs, finishes his coffee, and puts the cup on the table. Then he pulls Charlie closer.

"Hey, man. I wasn't stealing anything exciting. I was blowing safes in retirement communities. Not like they weren't insured up the ass."

His hand runs through Charlie's hair again, soothing.

"Though yeah, wouldn't have like the junkie bit."

He leans down and presses a kiss to Charlie's head.

"Like the rest of you though."

"Thanks," Charlie murmurs and squeezes Darien's fingers lightly. "Kinda like you too.

"So if I can't find you lock picks, what's your second choice?"

He shrugs.

"I'm good with just about anything."

Charlie nods. "Pocky it is, then."

Blink.

"What-y?"

"Pocky? It's cookies dipped in chocolate. They're huge in Japan." He blinks at Darien innocently. "Do I need a signal for when I'm teasing you?"

"No, I was just confused. Bexzides...signals make things boring."

He grins again and leans over to nip at Charlie's ear before chuckling softly against the skin of his neck.

"Goon," Charlie says affectionately and cups the back of Darien's head. "What's so amusing?"

He shakes his head and buries his face in the crook of Charlie's neck. He can't see it, but there's a smile on his lips.

"Just happy."

"Mm." He slowly combs his fingers through Darien's hair, his eyes closed. "I like that."

He hums a few bits of tune, feeling Darien breathe.