for peter;

[emptyvessel]

[ It was more difficult than Marcus thought it would be, sending Tomas off with Mouse. He's alone in their motel room now, with no idea where he's going to go or what he's going to do. After tonight, that is. Tonight he has plans with Peter, drinks at a local bar.

Tomorrow, he'll worry about his existential crisis.

He shows up at the bar in his best shirt (which isn't saying much) and nicest jeans (that's saying even less) and lingers outside under the awning upwind of the smokers chatting across the entryway. It looks like rain tonight. What he should expect from this region, he supposes, but the constant drizzling does remind him of England in a way he'd just as soon not think about.

Luckily it isn't too long before Peter's truck pulls into the parking lot, and the other man hops out and waves when he spots Marcus... who finds himself smiling already. ]

Evening.

Comments

[onfire]

Hey. [ He slams the cab door of his pickup shut and meets Marcus by the bar entrance, his warm, dark brown eyes never leaving the man's rough face. ] Glad you called.

[ Behind them Peter opens the glass door to usher them both in. It's a quiet weekday evening, most locals sitting at the bar, some families seated in the small "No Smoking" section of tables where they offer a buffet dinner.

Wisely, he goes for a table after catching the attention of the bartender, a man he's known for years now because sometimes the police are just too slow to come handle a drunk and disorderly patron. He'll grab their orders and leave them in peace the way most locals won't. Word spreads like wildfire around here, and selfishly Peter wants Marcus all to himself. ]

What's your poison, Marcus? I'm buying.

[emptyvessel]

[ Peter's comfortable here, Marcus can tell. It's the sort of small town where everyone likely knows everyone, sure, but the other man is just... personable. Marcus smiles faintly at that as they claim a table, pleased that it's a little quieter. Away from the bar and the chattering families. He loves children, but he's feeling a bit worn down. A low key night is just what the doctor ordered. ]

I'll start with a beer, thanks. Anything local you could recommend?

[onfire]

"Local," he parrots, a slow grin brightening his lined face. "Didn't take you for a hipster." But Peters goes all in on the joke, thinking hard as his jaw cants just a little to the side.

"Sure they've got some wild IPA that tastes like blueberry lemonade with too much hopps," Peter offers with that deapan looks he always has. Hard to tell if he's kidding or not. "Or, we could go with Rainier. That's a dependable go-to."

[emptyvessel]

"When in Rome." Marcus chuckles softly, then explains. "I like trying new things... but I'll take the Rainier, I think, please."

It's remarkably hard to read Peter's jokes, even for Marcus, but he's finding he likes the mystery.

[onfire]

Marcus' admission earns a soft chuff. His brown eyes covers the man's weathered face, his smile, inevitably coming back to the beautiful gray eyes he has.

"Yeah. Noticed that about you..." And that's about the time the bartender hits their table with a quick hello and takes their order. He asks if they'd like glasses, and Peter quickly catches Marcus' silent response with a look.

"We're good. Thanks Bill," Peter says. He waits until the man is out of earshot before reviving their conversation. "Surprised you've hung around—No that I'm complaining..."

[emptyvessel]

"I am a bit of a rambler," Marcus says, "but that's because there's usually somewhere to go next. I don't have that right now... so why not stay where I like the company?"

He leans back in his chair with a shrug, though, this next part not as easy to admit.

"Not sure how long I can hang around for without a job of some sort, though. Know of any openings for an excommunicated priest?"

[onfire]

"Well," he clears his throat, big arms settling on the table. "I've been asking for a secretary for awhile. If your filing and typing skills are good, that is."

That's when Bill comes back with two frosty beers. With a quick thanks, he lifts his bottle up and waits for the other man to cheer with him. The two glasses together make a satisfying click sound in the air.

"Sounds like you could really do without paying rent while you look," Peter considers before taking a swallow of his beer. It's hard to imagine any money Marcus has is going to be eaten up quick spending night after night in a motel.

"I've got room at my house." He makes it sound like childsplay asking an attractive stranger to live with you for a handful of days, but when you've stared death in the face social embarrassment becomes a small problem. "And I've still got that bottle of bourbon with your name on it."

[emptyvessel]

"They're not, most likely." He has to be honest -- it's not like he's ever worked in an office, though he does know the alphabet which seems to be the basis of both skills.

Their beers arrive then, and Marcus raises his bottle to clink it. He does appreciate the offer of help, but is downright shocked at what comes next. It takes him a second to swallow the drink he's taken, as he gapes at the other man.

"...Peter, do you offer every sad drifter your couch? I couldn't possibly."

It's too much.

[onfire]

"No, I don't," he tells Marcus frankly, setting his beer back down on the table so he can give him his full attention.

"And you're not sad. You're... complex," Peter offers as his hands play with the condensation at the bottom of his beer bottle. "You're attractive, sharp."

[emptyvessel]

"And you're a flatterer," Marcus says, though he's smiling.

He considers the offer again. It's exorbitantly kind, and... as much as he hates to admit it? Likely necessary for him to survive for long enough to get a job. Homelessness doesn't sound appealing.

"...alright."

[onfire]

"We all have our burdens to bear, Marcus," he says, hiding his smug grin behind the beer bottle. Peter wasn't certain the man would actually accept, but he's... he's happy he did.

"Good. Stay as long or as little as you like, mm?" He slides his hand palm-down across the table toward Marcus.

[emptyvessel]

Marcus watches Peter's hand slide across the table, smiling faintly. It's all too easy, he thinks, to reach back, settling his own hand over Peter's. Just for a moment.

"Thank you." He takes another sip of his beer, leaning back in his chair and letting his hand slip away. "So why did you settle here, hm? Of all the places you could be, why this town?"

[onfire]

"It's peaceful," Peter explains confidently. "After I was discharged, being a normal person was... difficult. I couldn't relate, I couldn't listen to all the little problems everyone had."

He takes a breath then, taking another swig of his beer.

"I needed a lot of alone time. Did a lot of hiking when I came back to Washington. And I found this island. There was nothing more satisfying than watching the ocean—and the sunsets..." He can't help but groan. "You can bet we'll be watching a sunset."