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.
Krem looked like he was really trying to make this work so JW dipped his antlers in agreement. A restaurant. Far less likely for there to be chairs sailing overhead or anyone getting murdered. And the smells of delicious food could probably drown out the smells of other things.
To be honest it might not be hard to see chairs sailing over head with the Chargers, but they were just rowdy sometimes. They meant well. Aside from the time Bull had saved him from the man hunters on the border, no one had ever really died or gotten into a scuffle. They kept to themselves, even if some of them flirted with the waitstaff too much, but Bull usually kept them all in check.
"Hows about I pick you up at your bakery and we can walk there? It's not too far." Since he didn't have a car anyways. Unless he wanted to try and fit into the company car with the rest of the chargers. The company bus more like with how many they managed to squeeze in.
"Basic burgers and fries place, nothing special. We'll probably still be in armor anyways."
The phrase 'it's a date' gets a nervous little laugh out of Krem he hadn't expected. He should have though, since he laughed like that when he had asked JW out the first time, just there was a distance between them and text to hide behind. He coughed to try and cover it. "Good, I'll see you then, though...um."
How come asking was so hard? He could talk, not trip over himself too much, smile his dashing smile, and yet whenever he went to ask for something he wanted, it came out stupidly. "I was wondering also, you know, if you wouldn't mind too much. I could walk you home, if you were heading home after this anyways." Smooth operator.
The laugh only made JW grin wider. YES. He was back on top of this fluster wrestling match. The grin didn't fade when Krem made his offer either. It softened and turned less shit-eating and more genuine.
He hadn't...ever had anyone walk him home that he could remember. The last guy he dated was also a roommate so that didn't count. And he had to admire Krem for slipping that in. It put those worries that screamed 'oh no this brave ripped solider is going to realize I'm an ugly sick broom and bail' to bed once again.
"Sure. I need to get home anyway and see if that box came."
That was a good look Krem was sure, sitting up from his chair and tossing his cup easily enough, and the wrapping of his sandwich. He doesnt head to the door just yet though, waiting patiently for Jw to get up before he made a move to the door.
He could be a gentleman, and yet Iron Bull said that courting and taking it slow was all a waste of time.
JW made a short show of getting up, bowing his back and stretching his long arms high above his head. He wasn't ripped like Krem but he hoped his sheer height could be...cool. Or something. He was trying. When he was done with that, he dipped back into his usual slouch, grabbed up his bag, and headed for the exit.
"Hope you're ready for a walk, I live in the sticks."
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wolfintheattic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
theattic2014-11-09 07:23 pm
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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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"Sounds great, where is it?"
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"Hows about I pick you up at your bakery and we can walk there? It's not too far." Since he didn't have a car anyways. Unless he wanted to try and fit into the company car with the rest of the chargers. The company bus more like with how many they managed to squeeze in.
"Basic burgers and fries place, nothing special. We'll probably still be in armor anyways."
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"Haven't had burgers in a while." He broke into another toothy grin. "It's a date. You know when I close."
And when he opened.
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How come asking was so hard? He could talk, not trip over himself too much, smile his dashing smile, and yet whenever he went to ask for something he wanted, it came out stupidly. "I was wondering also, you know, if you wouldn't mind too much. I could walk you home, if you were heading home after this anyways." Smooth operator.
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He hadn't...ever had anyone walk him home that he could remember. The last guy he dated was also a roommate so that didn't count. And he had to admire Krem for slipping that in. It put those worries that screamed 'oh no this brave ripped solider is going to realize I'm an ugly sick broom and bail' to bed once again.
"Sure. I need to get home anyway and see if that box came."
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He could be a gentleman, and yet Iron Bull said that courting and taking it slow was all a waste of time.
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"Hope you're ready for a walk, I live in the sticks."
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