theattic | THE SANDBOX

Krem makes a face, not sure if that's such a good idea. "Maybe a little later. He can be a lot to take in." Meaning he's not sure he's ready to introduce him. Meeting Bull was almost like introducing someone to his father, the bond ran deep and he's not sure he'll survive it either. The Iron Bull may not be his actual father, but the man was embarrassing enough to pass as one.

He smiles as he watches the other man fidget though, arms still crossed casual on the table, leaning back himself and he can see him looking. "Monday, thursday is arm day, so I would have been to the gym. Though, I have a few shows I watch too...It's either that or sew till I get bored of it and fall asleep." And crack open a bottle, but he won't mention that. Best for that to slowly make itself known.

"Pff, I'm not scared," said JW the Big Fat Liar. But what Krem said got his attention and his smirk faded, replaced by surprise. "You skipped arm day for this?" He quickly rephrased that. "For me?"

It was time for another dumb grin. JW wanted to punch himself in the face. Drawing him out of his bakery dungeon where he was master over all he saw was a DIRTY DIRTY TRICK.

Krem cant help but laugh, nodding. "I've got make up days if i need to, but it wont kill me. My whole job tends to be arm day anyway, i can afford to slack off." He glances over JW's shoulder though, spotting their food, but leaves the other man in suspense. "You're worth it though, dont worry."

And then like magic, there was dinner, the baskets as traditional as he had boastes they were and piping hot to boot. And, with that they were bid to enjoy and Krem has to say it all looks damn good, though he has enough self control to wait a little longer and not burn his tongue and not be able to taste the rest of dinner.

He was worth it.

JW rubbed at his face to chase away the heat and was delighted to find that dinner placed between them. JW loved being spoiled and his...pride? Was it pride? His Whatever It Was never usually got in the way so much that taking a damn compliment got him so flustered. Maybe it was because he'd so firmly trained himself out of the idea of fun that he was having to re-learn it all over again.

Or that it was always him who was doing the flustering.

HOW THE TURNS HAVE TABLED.

Unlike Krem, JW didn't wait and instantly popped a fry into his mouth. He suffered for it. And just powered on through it. HE COULD BE STRONG TOO, MR. MCMUSCLES.

"Not bad!"

Krem is fine with not being flustered, and he smiles across the table like he's got a secret when JW starts to blush. This is good, this is very good.

Though, he is rather surprised when he pops some of that piping hot food in his mouth, eyes wide. "Isn't that hot?" He can't help but ask, looking down at his own basket and half tempted, but he can feel the heat from where he's sitting, above it.

JW could feel the shitty one-liner forming in his gut like a belch and it made its way out of his mouth before his brain could stop it.

"It's not the hottest thing at the table."

He wanted to die.

There goes his blush again, the tips of his ears felt red hot. He tries to ignore the fact since it isn't quite so obvious on his tanned skin and muscles through, "You're so modest, Jim." It's said sarcastically, managing a smile back as he meant to reverse the statement without being so obvious about it.

JW opened his mouth to--well not apologize but say something distracting but then Krem went and flipturned things so that it looked like he was being his usual boastful self and you know what he is a-okay with that. He leaned back in his chair, finally more at ease, and made a stupid hissing sound as he took a bite out of his next french fry.

"I try."

He behaved himself the rest of the time they were eating, but he did start picking his fish apart and spreading it around the basket instead of eating most of it.

Krem can't help but notice. He had all but picked his basket clean, having to eat meals with other mercenaries and The Iron Bull all the time, it was usually like that. Only the elves in their group didn't eat like ravenous wolves, but they still usually finished their serving easily enough.

"You feel okay?" He can't help but ask, because he had been sure that a man who bragged about the fish would actually want to eat it. "You haven't really touched the best part."

"I'm good," he says easily enough. This is a lie he's practiced and practiced and practiced. "I'm just savin' it for a doggie bag." He tapped his noggin. "Thinkin' ahead!"

"Kind of hard to save if when you've picked most of it apart with a fork." He says casually, reading across for Jw's plate and eating one of his fries because his basket was empty. If JW wasn't going to eat it...

"You sure? I'm sure it'd be better now more than later, and you said you were hungry." He knows stubborn, and as a merc, he is pretty confident in knowing when he's being lied to, it's a skill you have to acquire if you want to get paid or not for a job. He's just never had to deal with this kind of stubborn before.

"Trust me." He waved for a waiter and asked for a to-go box just as he'd said. He then glanced back at Krem and looked him right in the eye. The thing about James Walter and lies was, he did a sort of inside out loop. He was obvious about it. Very obvious. So obvious it could be mistaken for kidding. Which made him a pretty convincing liar--at least to himself.

WELCOME TO ROMANCING JW, KREM.

A few days later found Krem at the gym, one of those large ones at the mall with the glass windows that let everyone who walks by see just exactly what is going on. On one of the windows is an advetisement for a biggest loser challenge, and also a pilates class, though Krem isn't interested in either of those, but rather seems to be enjoying himself running at the treadmill.

His 8 mile run, split in half between weight exercises, is at a fast pace, meant for 20-30 minutes a piece so he can get his cardio in as well as the leg building that he desires. He's got headphones in, more focused on the music than anything around him as he runs, but he's already built up a sweat, on the end half of his run and he looks damn good doing it too. He's got even less clothes on than when he had met JW for dinner, biking pants on that end a little past the knee, and a tank top that's sticking to his skin in places.

He's oblivious to his surroundings though, so it wouldn't be easy to sneak a good long look at him while he runs.

Krem is left to his running for a good long while. But should he look up, he would find that he isn't alone. Well. He's alone on the treadmill and within the gym itself, but right on the other side of the glass is a gangling scarecrow of a man.

And he has been there a while.

No longer in nervous date clothes, no longer in his work uniform, he strode around in front of God and everyone else wearing a baggy silk shirt that would have been a better sofa and bell-bottom pants. JW had come to pick up a new book on cake decorating and some shoes that weren't garbage. He'd saved for months and he had to take care of his dogs so he couldn't complain about them anymore THERE WOULD BE NO MORE DOGS GOD DAMN IT.

But he hadn't expected to find this doggy in the window.

He had imagined Krem training in some dank dungeon rather than a right and modern proper place full of the correct equipment. Krem had also been eating a huge turkey leg in that particular daydream and there had been a dead dragon and maybe he wasn't wearing pants but ANYWAY. He wondered how long it would take for either Mall security to shoo him away or for Krem to notice.

His nose was against the glass, his head tipped back awkwardly because of his antlers.

Krem noticed before the mall security got reports of a strange man pressed against the glass of the gym, but when he did, he kind of blinked, the music still playing over his headphones, and he had kept running before he realized exactly who was staring at him and he just stopped. Time seemed to stop with him as he stared at JW with his nose pressed to the glass, and it seemed like forever, at least until he was suddenly thrown backward by the still moving tread.

He probably had looked like a moron, those eyes of his the size of plates as he'd stared back at JW, a little surprised, and then suddenly there was no ground beneath his feet, just air, and getting thrown back to the floor, landing on his ass and thankfully not hitting his head on the equipment behind him. His face was red, though with all the running and sweating, it was hard to tell that it was a blush, thankfully.

Excuse him as he rubs at his ass and sits up, he's...he'll be a minute unless JW wants to come in and kiss it all better. Or laugh at him, one of the two.

How about both.

JW's grin only widened when they locked eyes. He lifted the hand that wasn't weighed down with bags to wave at him. And then his expression changed as poor Krem was jettisoned backwards.

"Shit!"

JW quickly rounded the side of the shop and ducked inside, stretching his neck to see over the machines. Once he spotted Krem's station through the unfamiliar layout, he picked his way over.

"You alright, soldier? I didn't think I was that scary."

Krem is still rubbing his ass when JW makes his way through the jungle of gym equipment, feeling as stupid as he probably looked. "You're not scary, I just didn't expect to see you there, is all." One minute had been his workout playlist, and then he had glanced to the side and seen JW there. He was sweaty, felt self conscious about it, and hoped he didn't stink, but well? An hour of working out can do that to you, he supposed. Today he was just come as you are he supposed, and he'd have to see it sometime or other.

"I was going to wave back by the way, but I got to looking back and my brain stopped." He smiled, just a little pushing himself up and dusting himself off, pulling at his tank to get some airflow, trying not to think too closely about the clothes he was wearing, or how he looked other wise, "You stopped me in my tracks."

JW had reached out to offer a hand, but Krem was already standing and he didn't want to bruise the guy's pride any further. JW quickly pocketed said hand and rocked back onto his heels, using his shopping bag as a counterweight.

"That's a good one. They should put me on your squad. The monsters won't know what to do with themselves, they'll all be sitting ducks."

"stuck staring at your handsome face, it'd be a good technique." He smiles, his own arms awkward at his side, palms rubbing against his thighs before he slips them up into his pockets.

"How long were you standing there anyways? Sorry I hadn't noticed you."

Confident that the soldier wasn't hurt, JW turned his shit-eating grin back on.

"Long enough to get a good show! How far do you go on that thing at a time?"

JW got winded walking to work. For obvious reasons.

Krem cant help but smile a little when Jim smiles like that, his head dipping a little, trying bot to be embarrassed, but its hard when you've got a look like that turned straight onto you.

"Eight miles, I split it in half between weight training. But im not on it longer than an hour."

He bounces on his heels, kind of wanting to grab his sweat rag but not wanting to bring the offending thing around when the other man was right there. "Why? You wanna catch the full show next time? Kind of a boring two hours I'd think."

JW let out an appreciative whistle. And then he laughed.

"Maybe from where you're standin'."

He felt a little bad for interrupting...but not nearly bad enough to go away. Now that the worry had passed and he'd let off a good one-liner or two, he took a moment to really get a good look at the gym. He'd never actually been in one. People paid to come in here and torture themselves. Eugh. JW was far too lazy for that.

"Glad I ran into you." His grin softened into something more sheepish. "Been a while since there hasn't been a counter or a table between us."

Krem swallowed again, his brain working a bit of over time when that sheepish look turned on him. He kind of liked it when it was a little more obvious that JW liked soending time with him like that. "Well...im almost done here. This is the cool doen half of my run." He nods his head to a chair that his gym bag was sitting on, walking over to it and pulling his things off, and his sweat rag, "if you didn't mind sitting and waiting fifteen, we can do something afterward."

Its an offer that he isnt sure the other man will take when he's obviously going to be post workout look of sweat and joggers, but the offer is there. "There's a good coffee place down the way from here."

"I don't have anywhere else to be." He finally dropped his own shopping bag and leaned his back against the window, one knee crossed over the other, hands in his pockets. "Coffee sounds nice. My treat this time."

A treat and an apology for Krem's poor butt.

It was fine that Jim didn't take the offered chair, he figured it wasnt that desireable to sit where a sweat rag had previously been anyways. "I'll make sure i clean up before we go then, i cant say i smell the best right now." Especially since he had taken the care to be as washed up as possible whenever he saw the other man. Kind of funny how you bump into people looking your worst when you least expect it.

He moved back onto the treadmill soon enough though, building the speed back up and finishing the last few minutes of his run, though if he were honest he was cooling down at a faster pace than he usually would so JW wouldn't have to wait so long.

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LEG DAY

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