I Guess That I Just Thought Maybe We Could Find New Ways to Fall Apart [Friday, January 23]

[dead_black_eyes]

Who: Lazarus Lawliet and Cesar Sanchez-Ortiz
What: Lazarus and Cesar go out drinking and then back to Cesar's place to watch Star Battles, which Lazarus has never seen.
Where: Cesar's place
When: Backdated to January 23, Friday
Warnings: Slightly drunk people, highly suggestive content



The last time they'd been out drinking, it had gone surprisingly well, even despite the strange and stressful lead-up. It wasn't every night that detective work required breaking into a house just to confirm what a cursory glance at the extermination van in the driveway would have revealed, and there were few strains of embarrassment that could quite compare... but Lazarus had suggested drinking at a dive bar, Cesar hadn't turned him down, and the evening had taken a better turn, considering.

They both liked science, and had found way too many things to say about it over shots and copper mugs of vodka and ginger beer. Though they'd seemed an odd pair, when they let their guards down around each other, it turned out that Lazarus and Cesar actually had a fair deal in common, to the point where Cesar had been open to doing it again at a later point... minus breaking into his coulrodendrobibliophiliac neighbor's house, of course.

Lazarus had found himself looking forward to the event, even regretting that he'd suggested two weeks instead of one. In that time, he found himself sending Cesar a few links to articles in science journals that had piqued his interest, realizing that it ultimately gave them more things to talk about, and by the time Friday the 23rd did come around, he arrived at the same dive bar slightly early, ordered the first round of drinks, and from there, got happy-drunk while discussing topics they'd apparently only grazed while drinking a couple of weeks prior. They even managed to get to those articles; a few drinks in, Cesar had brought up "Star Battles" again, a film that he recommended to Lazarus weeks ago. What started as a joke turned into a serious (if tipsy) suggestion for the remainder of the evening, and they'd settled up their tab, grabbed their coats, and gotten a cab back to Cesar's apartment.

Now, Lazarus leans against the wall as Cesar fishes for his keys outside his apartment. "Admit it, Robert Bakker was onto something in The Dinosaur Heresies. I favor T-Rex as a predator, not a scavenger."

Comments

[evowhisperer]

The silence draws on, and as L argues with himself Cesar catches something that makes his eyes widen infinitesimally. He's seeing an option. He hesitates, realizing what he needs to do.

The touch to L's wrist changes, turning gentle, and to more of a resting motion. Cesar is standing closer than before, and his face moves level with L's, tilting ever so slightly. He's not lingering, but he's not going so fast that it looks like he's coming in for some kind of kill.

His lips press softly against L's.

It's a question without clear words, and he draws it out, moving the hand from L's wrist to cup the side of his face. The gesture stays closed mouth, and he tries not to breath morning-breath on his face. This isn't the start of something bigger, like before.

The kiss ends. Cesar doesn't step back immediately, but he's looking through half-lidded eyes to try to gauge L's reaction, and he needs enough room to sign.

{It's a journal from those months. Not all those secrets are mine, and I can't talk about them.}

It's the first step towards one more thing that's irredeemable, and he feels ashamed.

[dead_black_eyes]

If Cesar had been going in for any kind of kill, it would have been easy. Even the way his touch changes provokes an immediate difference in the detective; he softens and relaxes with the kiss, hand falling to his side as Cesar's touches his cheek. He's passed the crossroads, chosen a path, and he's moving forward with a wound he doesn't even know he possesses.

Too late.

When Cesar pulls back enough to sign, L has to stop himself from closing that gap. Recovering from the beginning motion, he instead rests against the counter, watching Cesar's hands move. To say that he's pacified is an understatement; he is practically etherized.

"We have more in common than I thought, then," he says simply. "It... does help, doesn't it?" he runs his fingers briefly through his unruly hair, before turning his gaze slowly back to the coffee. The irony of having told Cesar that everyone has a truth they don't want to see escapes him. It might even be the wound he's moving forward with, its gaping nature mollified by shock but still making him far more vulnerable.

"Books still don't belong in the kitchen..."

[evowhisperer]

L's question simply gets another smile. Then Cesar lifts the notebook and points at himself and the doorway, as though he'd been trying to address his poor organization skills this entire time.

He doesn't give L a chance to respond. Cesar retreats from the kitchen, disappearing directly into a door around the corner. It's not one that's easy to see from the kitchen, and when Cesar returns a few seconds later, the notebooks are gone.

[dead_black_eyes]

L doesn't return Cesar's smile, but he also doesn't make any kind of move to impede him as he leaves with both notebooks. There's a mildly dazed quality to the way he watches the other man leave, as though he knows he's watching something important disappearing, knowing full well that he's powerless to stop it.

When Cesar comes back, the coffee is ready and waiting for him, complete with cream and sugar, set at the side of a plate with three slices of absolutely charred french toast.

[evowhisperer]

By the time he comes back, he's changed shirts. He'll take a real shower after L has left, but until then, it serves as a cheap excuse for why he lingered so much in his bedroom (looking for a temporary hiding place), and it makes him feel a little less like he's suffering a dehydrated Morning After.

Breakfast and coffee are ready. The toast looks completely inedible, but the coffee tastes better than it usually does, and the gesture itself is oddly touching. He picks up both plate and mug and looks towards L, seeing if he has one of his own. If he does, Cesar will tilt his head towards the main room, where they can pull up chairs and eat over the papers scattered across the table. If L doesn't have a plate and mug, he'll put the plate back down as though he meant to all along, staying where he is.

[dead_black_eyes]

L has his own coffee cup held in both hands, and seems not to have made any french toast beyond the three slices on Cesar's plate. He nods briskly, moving to head out to the main room.

"I don't eat breakfast... I tend to be queasy in the mornings," he says softly. "But don't let that stop you from enjoying breakfast, I've got coffee and that's all I need."

[evowhisperer]

Enjoying. How on earth is he going to discreetly dig through all the charcoal, if there's even anything left beneath it? Not for the first time, Cesar is grateful that L doesn't read faces well, or he might actually pick up on the strain in Cesar's smile.

He follows him into the main room. There's only so many places to sit, and after eyeing the cluttered table he makes for the couch. It's a little awkward to sit there, considering what they'd been up to last night, but he sips his coffee as though he doesn't notice, starting the brave task of facing the french toast.

(... Are those chunks even bread?)

[dead_black_eyes]

It's a hell of a tall order, even for someone who likes L, especially for someone who typically likes French toast. But L is not great at reading facial expressions, and that strain absolutely seems to be wholly lost on him.

L sits beside him on the couch, sipping at his hot coffee, staring at the television screen.

"Thank you for last night. I would not be opposed to doing it again sometime," he says softly.

[evowhisperer]

This entire morning has been extremely unkind to any feelings of security, trust, relaxation, and affection that Cesar might've had lingering from the night before. If anything, he feels like a beetle that's had to unfurl its wings suddenly, and is still in the process of trying to refold them.

Would he want to do a repeat of the night before? Well--it was fun, wasn't it? He doesn't remember all of it, and this morning was enough of a rollercoaster to make him think twice, but overall, everything went alright.

The plate is already resting across his thighs, so he drops the toast on it, freeing his hands for a single sign. 'Same'. It occurs to him that it might be too brisk, and he glances over, but saying anything else at this point would be stumbling and clumsy.

[dead_black_eyes]

American Sign Language is reliant on a lot of nonverbal cues, a lot of fine gestures that serve to replace the inflection and tone present in verbal speech. Like inflection and tone, L also seems to miss fragments of meaning and intent, and he simply nods and sips his coffee, taking it innocently at face-value and staring straight ahead. His gaze wanders sideways when his peripheral vision picks up on Cesar's furtive glance, but he seems unalarmed and unconcerned.

"I can't stay much longer. It's bad enough that I stayed out all night without telling any of the people who typically watch my back... I'm sure you have things to do, as well."