"I'll keep it in mind then. Just...tell me if I start to over do it." because honesty is the best way to keep him from feeling he's doing this all wrong. He doesn't like admitting it, but that wasn't at least stated flat out. He's sure that his hints he drops to JW were being picked up on though. He just hoped that he wouldn't mind being asked for honesty when he had such a round about way of speaking all the time.
Still, he had to think of a good answer for JW when he asked, biting his lip, hands in his own pockets. Something that was worth what he had gotten.
"I can't go back to my home country." He looks up at JW again, hoping that was a good trade, even if he didn't offer the whole story. If JW wanted it, he might just ask for something extra at the coffee shop.
The antlered man's brows drift upward before peaking in something like sympathy. That was a far sadder limitation than he'd been expecting. He had been imagining some sort of physical limitation--Krem seemed like he could do nearly anything!
"Oh..." He was curious but...Krem was a soldier. And he was almost certain the reason would not be a happy one. "Well. More for me. I think that's even."
Krem just smiles back, not at all looking down. He might have been upset about it before when it had happened, but at least he knows they aren't crossing borders to get him, and his money still gets home easily enough. "Good, cause if you want the rest, I might just want a sandwich with my coffee."
Working out does build up an appetite, "if you're buying." He winks before he loses any of that confidence he's built up, even if it makes him feel silly to do so and picks up his pace to hide the fact that his face is a little more pink than it had been.
Was that...was that his game Krem was turning back around on him? That was hardly fair! But...it was only a sandwich! He could afford a sandwich. When the soldier picked up speed, JW kept pace easily on his long legs--they were in the mall. Not the battlefield. JW wouldn't be flagging behind here in the air conditioning.
"Alright, a coffee and a sandwich and a story."
Was Krem going to outdo him? Was he going to have to offer something up afterward? This was the weirdest flirting game he'd played so far.
"And a story," Krem agreed, trying to be subtle about his deep breath to calm his nerves. He could have been more honest, and said something like, 'i can't do this flirting thing', or, 'I can't tell if you're actually enjoying yourself sometimes' or even, 'I can't dance', but admitting it right now meant admitting defeat, letting go of those reigns he was trying to keep so that he could take a slow pace, one that suited him so he could keep tabs on the waters. He didn't really want to let go just yet, not until perhaps JW took them from him, if he wanted to. Andraste, he kind of hoped he wanted to.
Krem, who might usually eat a little more slowly while someone was watching, finished the sandwich before he even touched his coffee. He usually went home afterward and had a good dinner, sat down to sew or watch tv and then went to bed. A sandwich wasn't a good dinner, but it was enough to keep him happy, and he hadn't wanted to say no to spending time with JW either.
He'll sigh contentedly after the last bite, lean back in his chair a little, and finally take a sip of his latte, appreciating it. He looked the perfect picture of a content man.
When the question came though, Krem laughed, shaking his head, "No, no. There's some back story to this, I'll make it worth it, promise." He'll sit up, stretch, and rest his elbows on the table, speaking a little more quietly since Tevinter wasn't the best place to be from, even if his accent gave it away most times. Though at least it wasn't as noticeable as someone from a higher class than he was. Soparati Tevene sounded much less snooty than someone in the magisterium.
"So when I was growing up, I liked working with my father, he was a tailor, made shirts, nothing too fancy." He shrugs casually, "we didn't make much, but it kept food on the table, but my mom, she didn't like me working with him. Said I should do other things." He swallows, glancing to the side, "She thought embroidery was more my speed, but father never minded."
He takes another sip of his coffee, perhaps a little unsure about how honest the telling will make him, all his cards on the table, but he feels like it's fine, that it will be since JW hadn't said anything when he'd changed in the locker room earlier, "Anyways, when I was older, it got a little more complicated than just working at home. I wanted to be a soldier, worked hard to get there, but as I was, they wouldn't take me."
Another sip, filling the pause, and he sets the cup down. "Did you know it's illegal to lie on official documents?" He smiles, "Well, I did, but it didn't really stop me. What they didn't know didn't hurt them, especially since I was a damn good soldier if I do say so myself, but..." He shrugs, "nothing lasts forever when it's got a shaky foundation."
As Krem spoke, JW leaned up from his slouch and actually sat in his chair like a human being. The soldier had his full attention. He nodded at the mention of how Krem's mother had tried to guide him toward different things. JW had learned a lot about Krem in the past hour and now, as was unavoidable, he was going back over several of their previous encounters in his head. And being nothing but impressed.
JW always thought himself a coward. The only time he fought back was out of dumb animal fear and of course deeply rooted trauma. He'd never gone as far as Krem had gone to get what he wanted.
And what Krem had wanted was to be a soldier. He wanted to. He wasn't drafted like JW had assumed. He himself had lived in fear of the draft as a young man. By the time the story was through, JW's jaw was hanging open just so. Now was not the time to worry about his ego.
His reaction is a little hard to read at first. He's unsure of what that look means, because it isn't often that he's seen an unguarded expression on the man's face, but then he opens his mouth and Krem has to dip his head to try and fight off the embarrassment at his comment. "I...I dunno about that. Once I was found out, it was either death or slavery and neither would get money back to mom, so I ran. You ask anyone in Tevinter, and I'd be a coward."
He laughs a little at the thought though, even if he appreciates the struggle of the Soparati, the government wasn't the best. He could care less what they thought about him and his wanted status. "Anyways, I almost got caught at the border but I met the chief, man saved my life when he didn't even know me, the big idiot." He picks up his coffee again, sipping on it for something to do, "I think after two of their men died, they didn't think I was worth chasing after. Haven't had any trouble since anyways. That was at least five years ago."
"Man, fuck Tevinter then." JW rested his bony fists on the table. It had been a while since he'd gotten good and riled up. He suddenly found himself feeling incredibly defensive of Krem. Sure he loved to flirt with the guy and he wanted to SQUEEZE THE ARM, but he'd also been a pretty darn good pal to him since that morning.
There wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop anyone coming after Krem though--which made him feel pretty useless. What was he supposed to do? Give them diabetes?
"I think your mother'd be real proud of you."
JW didn't know if this mother was still in the picture or not. But he liked to think she'd be beaming with pride. He could feel his heart beating in his ears.
"You don't have to worry about me running my mouth. It'd take more than a sandwich for anyone to get it out of me."
Sometimes he isn't so sure. All she wanted for him was to marry well, be a good wife and that was it. She never complained about the money he sent, but...most letters she sent back wasn't much more than a usual thank you and a standard greeting. He isn't going to tell JW that though. The other man's stories had been fun, interesting. His? Not so much, and he doesn't want it to stay that way.
"Well, regardless I wouldn't worry, but I appreciate it. That means a lot." He taps his cup, almost empty, on the table, "It's not every day someone promises to lie for you."
"Is it really lying though if you're just keeping your mouth shut?"
JW could be dense but he could tell this was some anvil heavy stuff he was getting in return for a cheapo sandwich. He tried to lighten the mood. His own coffee had emptied a while ago and his hands were fumbling with the complimentary napkins on the table.
"But I guess I owe you some change now. It's your turn."
Even if he felt the sandwich wasn't good compensation, it was something that needed to be aired out anyways. Some things had to be said if Krem wanted to be serious about this, and that had been step one. He didn't want to get into it if JW didn't know that there was that slim chance that he was going to be taken back to Tevinter and tried.
Still, he would take another question, looking at the other man curiously, thinking about his options and what he might want to know.
After some careful thought, he leans forward again, closer than he had before so that his words are quiet, and he asks just as seriously as he had told his story, "What's your favorite food?" Because perhaps they've had enough serious for a day, and he wants to see the look on the other man's face when he can ask with such a serious look on his.
In the short silence that stretched, JW found himself worrying just a bit. He had plenty of secrets and Krem had just laid a big one on him--what could he ask though? When the soldier leaned in, JW leaned in as well, as though he were about to disclose his credit card number or something.
But then he went and asked that.
Too relived to be guarded, JW barked out a little laugh and leaned back in his chair again, hanging an arm over the back.
"Oh, that's an easy one. Fudge brownies--magic or non-magic, doesn't matter to me. I'm a simple man."
It's good to hear him laugh, and he can sit up with a smile again now that the mood's been lifted. He didn't like to focus on the past too much, even if it needed to be around in the present. Though...he is a little curious.
"What's the difference between magic or non-magic?"
Krem watches, taking a moment before realization strikes. Oooooooh.
He laughs, because honestly, he can't be too surprised. JW had mentioned before that he had been one stoned teenager growing up. "Gotcha. Sorry, I'm used to the other kind of poison."
Though that does make him think, "Do you make them yourself?"
"I've had your brownies, I know they're good." He offers just to maybe get that smile back, though he appreciates the red ears. That way he at least knows that he's getting right through to him, just like he wants to.
"We are, though...I was wondering." Krem swallows, tapping his cup nervously on the table, "You um, you interested in going out tomorrow? The boy's and I usually go to the bar after work." He takes the last sip of his latte, knows how nervous he must sound, must look, but at least he's getting words out. He had asked JW to dinner over text. Actually asking him to go out in person was harder, even if it was easy to talk to him.
Krem was swiftly rewarded. JW perked up instantly at the mention of going out and even went so far as to start opening his mouth--but then the needle scratched all the way across the record and the baker was met with a dilemma.
He very much did want to see Krem tomorrow--and he was curious about these friends of his. If they were anything like him, he was sure they'd be a blast to hang out with. But, alas, there was the issue of that deep-seated trauma associated with the smell of the bar.
It took a moment for him to realize he still had his mouth open. JW had to make a quick save. He leaned forward again, elbow on the table--cool, conversational, not at all shredding his napkin with his other hand.
"You know, I would like to go out tomorrow but--y'see--I'm not really...a bar kinda guy? If that makes sense?" INVOLUNTARY SQUINT.
Krem felt good about that initial reaction. And then he didn't. It was so quick, but JW's mouth was open, like someone had just pressed pause on him, even if he could see in his eyes that his mind was still moving. What had he said to fuck it up?
He was about to apologize, for what ever it was he had done, but then JW was opening his mouth again, words actually coming out, and he felt something in his stomach twist a little. Well. That was okay. He didn't need to go to the bar. They could change it up a little. It was fine.
"Oh. Well that's fine! It doesn't have to be a bar." He isn't sure what he's suddenly so wary about it, but it might be the fact that if he ever brings JW back to his apartment, the amount of wine he has in his kitchen is enough to stock a bar proper. Maybe he's just imagining it.
"What about the park? Fresh air without the monster swarms," JW offered, and instantly felt lame for it. THE PARK? Really? Were they teenagers? But...it was the furthest thing from a bar he could think of and he panicked.
"I'm not sure I can convince them to go to the park, but we can go after." Since he's sure if JW suggested it, he did actually want to go. And he had said he liked taking walks, hadn't he?
"we're all usually kind of ravenous after work. Comes with the occupation of beating the life out of things, so I know a restaurant we all like, doesn't really have a bar." Which is a good compromise he thinks. He isn't sure if it's the alcohol or the bar atmosphere that makes JW want to avoid it, but the place he's thinking of is pretty family friendly, so hopefully that would help.
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theattic2014-11-09 07:23 pm
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Still, he had to think of a good answer for JW when he asked, biting his lip, hands in his own pockets. Something that was worth what he had gotten.
"I can't go back to my home country." He looks up at JW again, hoping that was a good trade, even if he didn't offer the whole story. If JW wanted it, he might just ask for something extra at the coffee shop.
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"Oh..." He was curious but...Krem was a soldier. And he was almost certain the reason would not be a happy one. "Well. More for me. I think that's even."
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Working out does build up an appetite, "if you're buying." He winks before he loses any of that confidence he's built up, even if it makes him feel silly to do so and picks up his pace to hide the fact that his face is a little more pink than it had been.
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Was that...was that his game Krem was turning back around on him? That was hardly fair! But...it was only a sandwich! He could afford a sandwich. When the soldier picked up speed, JW kept pace easily on his long legs--they were in the mall. Not the battlefield. JW wouldn't be flagging behind here in the air conditioning.
"Alright, a coffee and a sandwich and a story."
Was Krem going to outdo him? Was he going to have to offer something up afterward? This was the weirdest flirting game he'd played so far.
He kind of liked it.
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The tall man slouched in his chair, blowing the steam away from his own cup while shamelessly watching Krem to see if he was enjoying his own treats.
"So. What'd you do? Rob a bank? Illegal nug racing? Displaying your weapons in public too often?"
He tipped his horns toward one of the man's biceps.
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He'll sigh contentedly after the last bite, lean back in his chair a little, and finally take a sip of his latte, appreciating it. He looked the perfect picture of a content man.
When the question came though, Krem laughed, shaking his head, "No, no. There's some back story to this, I'll make it worth it, promise." He'll sit up, stretch, and rest his elbows on the table, speaking a little more quietly since Tevinter wasn't the best place to be from, even if his accent gave it away most times. Though at least it wasn't as noticeable as someone from a higher class than he was. Soparati Tevene sounded much less snooty than someone in the magisterium.
"So when I was growing up, I liked working with my father, he was a tailor, made shirts, nothing too fancy." He shrugs casually, "we didn't make much, but it kept food on the table, but my mom, she didn't like me working with him. Said I should do other things." He swallows, glancing to the side, "She thought embroidery was more my speed, but father never minded."
He takes another sip of his coffee, perhaps a little unsure about how honest the telling will make him, all his cards on the table, but he feels like it's fine, that it will be since JW hadn't said anything when he'd changed in the locker room earlier, "Anyways, when I was older, it got a little more complicated than just working at home. I wanted to be a soldier, worked hard to get there, but as I was, they wouldn't take me."
Another sip, filling the pause, and he sets the cup down. "Did you know it's illegal to lie on official documents?" He smiles, "Well, I did, but it didn't really stop me. What they didn't know didn't hurt them, especially since I was a damn good soldier if I do say so myself, but..." He shrugs, "nothing lasts forever when it's got a shaky foundation."
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JW always thought himself a coward. The only time he fought back was out of dumb animal fear and of course deeply rooted trauma. He'd never gone as far as Krem had gone to get what he wanted.
And what Krem had wanted was to be a soldier. He wanted to. He wasn't drafted like JW had assumed. He himself had lived in fear of the draft as a young man. By the time the story was through, JW's jaw was hanging open just so. Now was not the time to worry about his ego.
"That's incredible."
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He laughs a little at the thought though, even if he appreciates the struggle of the Soparati, the government wasn't the best. He could care less what they thought about him and his wanted status. "Anyways, I almost got caught at the border but I met the chief, man saved my life when he didn't even know me, the big idiot." He picks up his coffee again, sipping on it for something to do, "I think after two of their men died, they didn't think I was worth chasing after. Haven't had any trouble since anyways. That was at least five years ago."
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There wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop anyone coming after Krem though--which made him feel pretty useless. What was he supposed to do? Give them diabetes?
"I think your mother'd be real proud of you."
JW didn't know if this mother was still in the picture or not. But he liked to think she'd be beaming with pride. He could feel his heart beating in his ears.
"You don't have to worry about me running my mouth. It'd take more than a sandwich for anyone to get it out of me."
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"Well, regardless I wouldn't worry, but I appreciate it. That means a lot." He taps his cup, almost empty, on the table, "It's not every day someone promises to lie for you."
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JW could be dense but he could tell this was some anvil heavy stuff he was getting in return for a cheapo sandwich. He tried to lighten the mood. His own coffee had emptied a while ago and his hands were fumbling with the complimentary napkins on the table.
"But I guess I owe you some change now. It's your turn."
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Still, he would take another question, looking at the other man curiously, thinking about his options and what he might want to know.
After some careful thought, he leans forward again, closer than he had before so that his words are quiet, and he asks just as seriously as he had told his story, "What's your favorite food?" Because perhaps they've had enough serious for a day, and he wants to see the look on the other man's face when he can ask with such a serious look on his.
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But then he went and asked that.
Too relived to be guarded, JW barked out a little laugh and leaned back in his chair again, hanging an arm over the back.
"Oh, that's an easy one. Fudge brownies--magic or non-magic, doesn't matter to me. I'm a simple man."
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"What's the difference between magic or non-magic?"
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"Y'know. Magic." He brought his fingers to his lips as though he were holding a cigarette.
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He laughs, because honestly, he can't be too surprised. JW had mentioned before that he had been one stoned teenager growing up. "Gotcha. Sorry, I'm used to the other kind of poison."
Though that does make him think, "Do you make them yourself?"
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"Of course! What kind of baker do you think I am? Buying other bread wizards' baked goods. Please."
Another lazy, slightly gap-toothed grin was sent Krem's way.
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"That's cute."
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"Mine are better anyway. We even?"
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"We are, though...I was wondering." Krem swallows, tapping his cup nervously on the table, "You um, you interested in going out tomorrow? The boy's and I usually go to the bar after work." He takes the last sip of his latte, knows how nervous he must sound, must look, but at least he's getting words out. He had asked JW to dinner over text. Actually asking him to go out in person was harder, even if it was easy to talk to him.
"It'd be on me."
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He very much did want to see Krem tomorrow--and he was curious about these friends of his. If they were anything like him, he was sure they'd be a blast to hang out with. But, alas, there was the issue of that deep-seated trauma associated with the smell of the bar.
It took a moment for him to realize he still had his mouth open. JW had to make a quick save. He leaned forward again, elbow on the table--cool, conversational, not at all shredding his napkin with his other hand.
"You know, I would like to go out tomorrow but--y'see--I'm not really...a bar kinda guy? If that makes sense?" INVOLUNTARY SQUINT.
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He was about to apologize, for what ever it was he had done, but then JW was opening his mouth again, words actually coming out, and he felt something in his stomach twist a little. Well. That was okay. He didn't need to go to the bar. They could change it up a little. It was fine.
"Oh. Well that's fine! It doesn't have to be a bar." He isn't sure what he's suddenly so wary about it, but it might be the fact that if he ever brings JW back to his apartment, the amount of wine he has in his kitchen is enough to stock a bar proper. Maybe he's just imagining it.
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"we're all usually kind of ravenous after work. Comes with the occupation of beating the life out of things, so I know a restaurant we all like, doesn't really have a bar." Which is a good compromise he thinks. He isn't sure if it's the alcohol or the bar atmosphere that makes JW want to avoid it, but the place he's thinking of is pretty family friendly, so hopefully that would help.
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