ferrisbuellean | IC CONTACT

[Jeff Winger is the lucky recipient of one Will Graham tonight, whether he likes it or not, one raised hand rapping on the glass to get his attention. Will's gotten a boost from his shadow.

There is a giant feathered stag acting as a ladder and Will is not at all bothered or disturbed by it, at Jeff Winger's window in Nonah in the middle of the night. He's taking too much effort to keep proper balance to be bothered by anything else, one foot on the beast's head and the other nestled in between two prongs like he's doing nothing more than stuffing his foot in a hole at some indoor wall climbing booth. Although Will (mostly) trusts his shadow not to accidentally skewer him, he's a bit more careful than usual right now.

Except for the part where he could have texted and asked Jeff to let him the door. Or simply knocked.

Will Graham is honestly not on his A game right now, and it's War he comes crawling to without knowing it. From one attention-loving liar to another, so it goes. (Not that Will isn't a liar who enjoys his own sort of attention, either, so perhaps it's simply birds of a feather after all.)

"Little pig, little pig, let me in," said one pig to another.]

[Perhaps it was too much for Jeff to ask for a night alone with just him and a cheap bottle of scotch. If it wasn't his film crew hassling him about some inane shit, it was some new native client trying to discuss camera time or some jack ass trying to get access to his room via a shadow stag.

Well, actually, that last one didn't happen all that often. This might just be the first time, in fact, which is why Jeff isn't expecting the unusual taptaptap against the glass, too solid and too determined to simply be branches dancing in the wind. The noise was obviously human, and striking enough to startle Jeff from his slouched sprawl against the couch. It's dark out and with the light in his room it makes it difficult to see the culprit of the noise, although that very much does look like a shape at the window between his half-drawn curtains, and shit that's just a little creepy.

But this is Jeff, and Jeff doesn't do scared and tentative any more than any other emotion or feeling that actually involves some level of effort, so he's up and moving towards the window, muscles tense just in case there's fighting that needs doing.]

Will? What the hell?!

[Or maybe not fighting because it's some dumb loser cop that he's half opening the window to.]

[Yeah, he's a jackass, he knows. He's been a jackass all night long, he figures the best spot to commiserate is with another jackass who he hasn't offended on a deep level or probably won't be screwing someone on his couch. Dorian Gray is just so unreliable.

He immediately latches onto the sill when it's opened to him, dude he is coming in. Will's currently a mess, a storm that can't decide if it wants to be a tornado or a hurricane and just keeps going, confused and scattered but keeping on anyway. In fact, as soon as that window gets up enough for Will Graham to get through it, that shadow stag gives him an extra boost. Just what he needs to slide through and right onto the floor like a useless lump of meat having just been forced through a grinder. He even lands half on his side and doesn't immediately move to right himself. The floor is fine for a second.]

Hey. Didn't wanna risk throwing rocks at your window.

[Because it could crack or something, not because Jeff would suddenly take those texted hearts to be legitimate declarations of love. Will looks up at Jeff like he's much more the giant than he ever has been before (Will is not the tallest guy in the first place, okay, down here Jeff should be in charge of a beanstalk), and Jeff might notice that he went from casting no shadow to gaining it back when the stag rushes back where it belongs, meaning it glides right in through Jeff's opened window.

Hey bud, you wanted some horses?]

[There's something ridiculously pathetic about how Will slips through the opened window and slithers to the floor, boneless. It's an act Jeff's done time and time again after days of self-pity and it's something he knows, feels and even understands, even if he's not quite sure of Will's own personal struggle.

It's already obvious something is up. That much is clear from the fact that Will has chosen to flop uselessly through Jeff's window on a Saturday evening with the aid of whatever the fuck that dark figure was, rather than actually request company or knock on the door like a normal human being. He's not sure whether he should be annoyed at the interruption or honoured that he's the one Will drags his sorry ass to at a time of possible crisis. Even if there isn't a crisis, the fact that his company has been chosen voluntarily is sort of nice to know.]

Yeah, thanks for the consideration.

[Looming over like the giant he is, more than a little unnerved by that weirdo shift of shadow, but Will is more important than a creepy deer. Instead of running off or kicking the guy out, Jeff opts for offering out a hand.]

C'mon, up you get.

[Will looks at that hand in a decidedly odd manner for a brief moment, almost like he has never seen the gesture before. The confusion of someone who comes from a culture where shaking hands simply doesn't happen and they're suddenly faced with another hand and don't know what to do with it. It passes soon enough and Will grabs Jeff's ~~giant yaoi~~ hand, using his other to help push himself up to a stand. He sees scotch and couch, perhaps they can share? Perhaps Jeff should get Will sitting down soon, he doesn't seem too stable on his feet (or in general), but he's not swaying side to side or anything. He just looks...rattled.]

I know it's late, but— [Jeff may note, as close as he is to Will at the moment, if he looks down at him from his beanstalk, that the undershirt he's got on separating plaid shirt and naked chest is actually backwards because he can spot the tag slightly flipped out. Will's either that rattled, that unconcerned, or he came here in a rush. Jeff can decide.] —you never struck me as someone who goes to bed with the sun either.

[He felt it was a logical choice, at least, in the midst of his logic being completely muddled.]

I'm not interrupting anything, am I?

[Jeff can murder dads.

But can he kick out human dogs who look like they'll fall apart at any given moment? Let's find out.]

[That giant yaoi hand pulls Will up with limited effort and then moves to settle just above his elbow, a point of contact remaining without being overly touchy or affectionate. Because affection is gross and not in the slightest bit manly.

He struggles with his own internal battle for a lingering moment, the old part of him- the lying, cheating, friendless lawyer- willing him to kick Will out and go back to his scotch and crappy TV. But that wasn't him any more, not entirely anyway. Greendale and his old study group from home had changed him enough to feel guilt at the idea of being a shitty friend. Good friends didn't throw one another out into the street after being sought out. Good friends sacrificed a night alone to at least attempt to lend a listening ear.

Ugh, being good sucks. Maybe he should reconsider life as a super villain instead.]

Nope, just been sitting alone hoping some guy would show up at my window. [The sarcasm is strong with this one, but he is nudging Will ever so slightly towards the small couch.]

How much you had to drink tonight, Will? [Asked lightly. Conversationally.]

[If Jeff kicked his ass to the curb, Will wouldn't be overly offended, but it's definitely one of the worst things he could have done. He has the look of a man who's not only been drinking but had plenty of reason to, forlorn, lost, having already been kicked aside, or just about. The guy who just lost a great friend, his significant other...and his idea of coping was to crawl in Jeff's window. Jeff, who also has an odd affair with isolation he seems to be at ends with. Jeff, who has every right to throw him out that window after Will's last text message conversation with him.

The perhaps sad fact of the matter is that Will sees enough of himself in Jeff to know, or think he knows, that this is the best place to go right now. Jeff keeps people at arm's length but is still sociable. Jeff, handsome charming man that he is, has this terrible ability to get along with most everyone while not getting along in the way that invites them in too close.

Will sees someone else who has issues with those he gets close to turning him away, or kicking him out, or leaving all together, so he prefers the safety of isolation. But oh, dear, is that ever so lonely. It doesn't matter that Jeff isn't being overly touchy or affectionate, Will doesn't expect that. What matters is that he did give him a hand and he kept contact. What matters is that Will reached out to someone who's also been burned by others and pretends that he just doesn't like dealing with people in general, and he reached back. Sometimes being two sides of the same coin with somebody else isn't so bad after all.]

Not enough to forget why I'd wanna drink in the first place. [Great follower, Will Graham is, he takes the cue and eases down on that couch with the help of the armrest, other hand rubbing at his eye. He got some dirt or bugs or something stuck there when he was trying to climb to the window, he's tired, life sucks, the headache is forthcoming.] Those teenage girls aren't gonna come bug you in your room, right?

[They can get shitfaced and not worry about it, can't they?]

[Will had the permanent look of a stray dog, all sad smiles and puppy dog eyes that are far too difficult to say no to, even for Jeff. But there was something more stray this time around, like the abandonment was real and lasting. Jeff thought he knew the look well enough, even recognised the feelings behind it, but it's not something he could ever admit to, not even to himself. Other people got abandoned, not him. The last person to walk out on him was and always will be his dad, since then he'd made sure no one else would do that to him, or at least he's tried not to care when it did happen. Yes, that constant disinterest, distance and apathy was all an act, but that was obvious to plenty.

But Will just didn't seem as capable of the heartless asshole role that Jeff could drop into at a moments notice. Will isn't boredly playing on his phone and pretending nothing is wrong. Will looks far beyond that and just for a second he's concerned that it might be something to do with April. God, he hopes not. Relationship break ups are not something he's experienced in dealing with.]

They all left, actually. And got replaced by a whole bunch of a new kids. Lucky me.

[The set up in his room is such that he barely ever has to leave it, he's made sure of that, and once Will isn't at risk of falling over, Jeff moves to retrieve a second glass from a nearby cabinet. Yes, he's willing to share his scotch, which is obviously a sign that there's a true friendship here. Either that or it's a sign that he wants Will to have an alcohol distraction. As he moves to sit, a glass slides towards Will on the coffee table while Jeff reaches for the scotch.]

You okay? [It's an open question. One that suggests by tone alone that he's totally cool with whatever answer. He doesn't need or want to push for information, but maybe Will's there to pour his issues out to someone.]

[Fortunately, it's nothing to do with April. Not just yet. They've had their little hiccups and he's sure that will be a constant, but that's just part of human relationships in the first place. People misinterpret, misunderstand, miscommunication isn't unheard of...shit happens. The stray dog on Jeff's couch gives a half-hearted shrug, releasing a rush of air through flared nostrils in the place of a laugh as Jeff comments on his luck. Kids. If it isn't kids it's vampires and if it isn't vampires it's gods and if it isn't gods it's people who seem moderately normal but have something back in their home that is considered extremely fucked up by the others. There's no winning. There's no one here who's really, really, really okay. Will came to that conclusion a long time ago and although a few people stand out like bright lights in the midst of a landfill (Jonathan Joestar, for one), there's a running theme that no one stuck in this mess of a world is any less of a mess themselves.

Including Jeff, who gets a quick nod of gratitude with blink-and-it's-missed eye contact in the place of a thank you as Will moves forward enough to make sure that glass doesn't slide right off.]

I will be. [He's never liked that question. He's never liked asking it, either. It's a shitty, shitty question, but Will's voice is quiet and almost empty instead of irked. Jeff's just doing what's polite and feels right, no use in holding that against him.] Had a rough night and don't think I'm up to broaching it with April yet, that's all.

[So he came here instead. While Mary is great at comforting, she knows too much, and he can't be completely honest with her when he'd want to be, and John is already in this three-ring circus enough. Dorian's got his own issues, so many of the people he knows are also teenagers, and the ones who aren't? Shit, Will grouching to them about Chilton would probably lead to the worst possible place and he has spent a Goddamn year keeping his mouth shut about certain problems among Baltimore's crowd. He doesn't need to risk undoing that, and there's honestly something to be said for getting alone time outside of the gym. Man to man! Will's had an odd penchant for befriending men who are much taller than him, too. Jeff has eyebrows, he's American, whatever damage has left him a lover of isolation doesn't have to mean he's hiding much worse crimes than startling a heart attack out of a dad.

This gonna be okay. He can fill up that scotch at any time and it will be okay much faster.]

[The scotch is coming if Will would just have some fucking patience. The lid gets unscrewed only once Jeff is comfortable in his space, and then he's leaning forward to pour. His own glass gets filled first, mostly out of habit than any real meaning behind it, but then he's angling to fill up Will's with a generous half a glass. That should last them for a little while, unless Will intends to start chugging it back. In which case Jeff might be tempted to match his speed.]

That would explain you showing up at my window close to midnight on a-- what even was that? A deer? A moose?

[Shadow moose is totally legit. You can tell Jeff was really paying attention to the creepy shit. What it does show, though, is that he was far more focused on Will at the time. Will and his pathetic slithering through the window. Curiosity is begging him to ask why but Jeff knows better than to come out with such a question. If it wants to be said, it will, if not then he's just going to have to live with not knowing.]

[He has plenty of patience! He spent weeks locked up in a hospital for the criminally insane knowing he was a completely innocent (of the charges against him and holding him there) man, okay, his patience is endless...and endlessly tested, he will not chug that scotch but he will take a healthy swig that should serve to help show yeah. He really needed it.]

It's a...

[He waves his hand like he's dismissing the whole topic, but as soon as he does, his own shadow starts to bubble and rise. First a pair of antlers, then hooves, legs stepping out of nothingness and becoming alive again. Only this time, the stag is the size of a small dog (miniature, not teacup), and in order for Jeff to get a fine view, it clambers on top of that table. The tiny stag gives Jeff a quick glance before standing at attention, not unlike the ways dogs being looked over at dog shows ordinarily do. Will, for his part, takes little notice of this, instead leaning back on the couch as though nothing too out of the ordinary is going on. His eyes are all on Jeff, anyway, though he's hoping Jeff's a bit distracted. He can absorb his reaction to one of those powers he didn't want to use in a public place better if he's too focused on something else to notice that Will is essentially drinking up his first, honest response like it's the sweetest wine ever crafted.]

That.

[That weird dark feathered stag with extra horns at the base of its antlers, stumpy tail giving a little wag like flies are biting.]

[Endless patience is nothing but a good thing, especially when dealing with Jeff, who does things in his own time or not at all. Maybe that's why he likes Will so much. No pressure, no nagging, no judgemental stares. Just let's a bro be a bro.

Except the shadow thing isn't quite so bro-like, especially with the lack of warning. Jeff's halfway through a mouthful of scotch when the hand wave happens, and then there's the movement of a shadow that has him coughing into his glass. There's something unsettling about seeing something so unnatural looking happen right in front of him in his own room, and yet Jeff can barely react beyond arching a thin eyebrow and shifting back in his seat just slightly. What the fuck. Kill it with fire. And yet...]

That's what you've been holding back on? Tim Burton's remake of Bambi?

[He's not sure whether to be disappointed or freaked out, to be honest. Right now he's nestled somewhere in the middle of the two.]

[Whatever, it's honest. Will can take an honest reaction, however minute, over a forced lie any day of the week. The stag seems more offended by the comparison than Will, turning its dark head in Jeff's direction, nostrils flared and lifting one hoof. Staring him down like one might expect a top notch predator about to hunt its prey down and rip it to shreds. If Tim Burton made this deer, Helena Bonham Carter would be riding it, somewhere in the background, or trying to kill it. And Johnny Depp would make out with her at some point. Must you be so rude, sir?]

Gets a lot bigger. Full sized. Easier to show you than tell you, since it's so... [He stares at it at last. Feathered? Dark? Sprouting other tools of impalement from its head? Bizarre as all fuck?] ...you could hone your paintball gifts on it, now that I think about it.

[Perhaps surprisingly, the suggestion doesn't earn Will a similar look as the one Jeff had just gotten. In fact, the shadow buddy puts upon a false huff before sinking to its knees and essentially lying on Jeff's table in the way a small cat or dog might. Ignore the little guy, he ain't even here. Humans.]

I'm not gonna shoot paintballs at Bambi...

[What sort of monster do you take him for, Will?

While the little guy stares Jeff down, he just sits there thoughtfully sipping on his scotch, staring right back. He's assuming Will won't let it spear him to death, but maybe that's too much of an assumption when it comes to creepy shadow deer things. It's kind of cute though, and even more so when it drops to it's knees and settles in.]

Thanks, though. For showing it to me.

[Will won't let him spear Jeff, that's an accurate assumption. The stag settles in more obviously than Will, who simply tugs at one knee of his pants and shifts in his own seat, but it's basically the same thing. He's here for the long haul if Jeff will let him, he's in it to win it. Win Jeff's scotch. Friendship scotch.]

No problem. [Here in private, at least. Now that Will's gone and got some better control of it. Now that he's familiar all over again. However odd it might be to have the stag on display in the first place, Jeff seems to be taking it well. All the more reason to let it stay flopped on the table until Jeff gives some cue he's not comfortable with it any longer.] Trying not to suck as much. Change is slow.

[Abigail was right. She was number one in Will's book, and he followed every single conversation she had that he could see. Considering Will's relaxed against Jeff's couch to the point where his neck is close to falling back against it like he could pass out, though, it's not a bad thing.]

[For now Jeff seems perfectly fine with the little guy hanging around (and the stag, harhar). It's not entirely unlike having a dog or a cat around, except it's a stag, and made of shadows or something, and also on his table. But whatever. It's Will's and it doesn't seem to be causing any damage or harm so it can stay for now.]

You don't suck, Will. [Said in an ever suffering tone, and perhaps just a tinge of guilt at that possibly relating to the Will mocking he'd shared publicly with a certain someone.] You've managed to arrive at a new world and start a genuine family. You've done in a year what I've not managed to do in forty. You've got a home, a fantastic wife that I'd totally bone- no offence-, dogs, raccoons, actual friends. You've learnt to commit and you've aced it. I mean you got the whole deal. You're literally the least sucky guy I know.

[And just maybe Jeff's a little bit jealous of it all. He can barely even manage the concept of commitment, never mind a lasting relationship, dogs, a house and friends that actually care about him.]

[Did he just get a Winger speech?

At first, Will just figures Jeff is giving him a moderate, basic "cheer up, sad man" nudge. I suck, no you don't, the usual. And then they'll get on with their drinking and one of them might have to be carried back to Heropa (the one who lives there) and it won't be mentioned again. But Will is going to remember, of course, and find a way to mention it without mentioning it...by way of coming to Jeff's aid if he needs literally anything Will can provide, naturally.

But no, it's more than that, and by the end, Will's not sure if this is a compliment and proof that Will's doing okay...or a reminder to Jeff by Jeff that he's not doing as okay as someone else. Misplaced envy, or what Jeff doesn't view as being misplaced. He can't even be prodded to feel any sense of ire or distrust over the comment about how bone-able April is. He's too gobsmacked. And it's too true, April is undeniably beautiful by standards that don't apply just to Will Graham.]

I.

[Well, that's probably what he's trying to say, at any rate. It's a stop-start, stammer, almost a groan instead of a word. It sounds like he's trying to say something, though. Something English. Something another human being can understand. Half-melded against Jeff's couch, the only bones in him reacting to outside forces being the ones that have to hold onto that glass, he's glad he was sitting because.

Uh.

Really?

Goodness.]

Thanks. [And Will Graham went from forlorn stray dog to pleased that he had a new home to call his own in record timing that day, tearing his eyes away from Jeff the Giant back to the little fellow (the one on the table, harhar).] That actual friends thing has to go both ways for it to be true. The concept of friendship, I mean, falls on...how both parties. Believe.

[He means feel, but they're already sort of avoiding feelings in general, so he replaces it as best he can. He also means that Jeff is one of those friends, but he's responded a bit poorly in the past to outright declarations of affection, so.

Subtle-ish is the way to go, helped with another sip of that scotch.]

[It's not like he'd intended to start Winger Speeching on Will's life, but there was something about the mood in the room that felt like a small amount of optimism needed to be injected into the conversation. The optimism is bittersweet for Jeff though, applauding Will's successes while simultaneously laying out all his own failures. Even as the bitter, womanising hipster that he was, there was a need to settle and a need for friendship. Abandonment issues could really screw a guy up, Will might know a thing or two about that, and this place didn't exactly help when dragging people back and forth.

While Will take a moment to register the words, Jeff takes the opportunity to take a few broody swigs of his drink, almost emptying the glass in a matter of mouthfuls, but then there's words being returned and he feels like he should probably listen.

Perhaps Jeff reads more into it than he should, but there's something about the mention of friendship that has him perking up just slightly. Will's right in being subtle, as anything too forward would have Jeff closing off, but this? This was an offered hand without ever verbally being mentioned.

His movement after that is fluid and quick, twisting enough to face Will and leaning forward, his free arm wrapping around him and drawing him in for a one armed, seated bear hug. Underneath the gruff exterior Jeff's a cuddler and for a few very drawn out seconds, Will's left to deal with that.]

Thanks. [Muttered quietly. And then just as quick as it started, it ends, moving instead to reach for the scotch to top up his own glass and Wills, if needed.]

[And Mister Grumpy Gills' empathetic heart, so prone to suckling serial killers like a starving lamb, grew three sizes that day. Three sizes in the direction of the egotistical, arrogant, non-serial killer variant of the human bean.

It all happens so fast. Or, well, it feels like it does, though Will is so unused to physical affection outside of a very small group of people that it also stretches for an eternity. The other little feller in the room knows better than to draw attention to this mortifying display and keeps its dark head turned away, antlers situated with care to not risk leaving even the smallest scratch on Jeff's table. Underneath the socially awkward exterior, Will's a bit of a human dog, and although he wasn't expecting this turn of events, he reacts rather like one. He doesn't pull away, but fortunately the human part of him is still in tact, so he doesn't turn into this big nuzzling drooling goofball, either. He simply accepts it and for a moment leans against him, his movement so minute that anyone watching wouldn't be able to see it. But Jeff is right there, he can feel it. The last hug from a man much taller than Will ended with...

Yes, he'll take a topping off on his scotch, too, please and thank you.]

Do you really like Nonah? As a city, not...the kids. [Abigail is a great kid. Some of the others tiny people among the imPorts are cool, too. But kids, man. Lying scumbags who get away with too much, all of them.] There's plenty of places in Heropa you could move to, you know. If money's a problem, that can be worked out.

[Will likes all of his people nearby. The trip to Nonah ain't no thing when one is Registered, it's true, but...in the same way that April had wanted Will right there, he's suddenly realizing that he also wants Jeff right there, too. And since he's complained about these Goddamn kids on his lawn, it seems fair and logical to invite him to the adult ("adult") side of town in case he's been looking for a path out but hasn't had the time to do so. Or perhaps he doesn't want to put the effort into it? Which is fine, Will can do that. He's great at paperwork, goodness.

Also the whole hugging thing never happened outside of the fact that it did, this is how Will realizes that for what it is: topic change and swimming along like n o b i g d e a l.]

[Of course the lean in was noticed and more than appreciated. It means that Will's not totally freaked out by that brief but shining piece of affection and that Jeff isn't now going to be cast aside as the weird clingy dude. Hugging isn't all that cool, after all, and Jeff is all about image, especially the image of pretending not to care about his image. It's a difficult balance to be this hipster.

But no, they both seem to be in the clear and both wordlessly acknowledging that the huge never has to be brought up again. It's nothing more than an evolved handshake and never needs to be considered any weirder than that. So scotch for everyone! Except the little guy on the table.]

I dunno, the locals are pretty friendly but there's not much keeping me here. [Jeff's used to staying in one place. A homebody. He's never been the sort to move about or even try new areas even when others leave. Since being dumped in Nonah he's just sort of... never even thought about looking elsewhere.]

Heropa does appeal though. I mean, man, the sun and sand is a draw if nothing else. I just... I've been focusing on getting show off the ground and getting my own firm sorted so... [Money is basically the biggest problem, but he doesn't accept charity because owing people is gross.] Yeah. Maybe I'd move out there. Who knows?

[The little guy on the table doesn't need any scotch, does Jeff want a drunken shadow stag? Ever? Imagine that hell.

Evolved handshake never happened, not at all, Will slid through his window and collapsed on his couch and then they drank. That is the exact, most accurate summary of this evening and what he'll tell anyone else if it comes up. Except maybe April because she's his wife, and she deserves a bit more honesty than everyone else.]

The beach is right there, yeah. [Sun and sand and not a bit of surf and ladies in bikinis, isn't that last part the most important unspoken aspect of the beach for a hot giant man like Jeff Winger?] Couple of monetary assistance programs you could look at, too. And you know people there who might not mind splitting rent if it was with a roommate they got to choose instead of those who show up every now and then.

[He says to the scotch, the better to draw away that Will (and April) may be within that last group. It's so much easier to draw attention to things when he actively draws none to them. No extra emphasis, no pointed looks. Letting people take what they will but planting the seeds, torn between hopeful and curious...

He's learned a little bit from Hannibal, okay? But this isn't the worst way to utilized those methods, is it? He's not going to do anything bad to Jeff.

Not without reason!]

[It's getting increasingly hard to tell how much Jeff should and shouldn't be reading into this. Why is Will so interested in his housing situation? Why is he suggesting he join the other adults in Heropa? Is he really that concerned about Jeff living with a bunch of children or is there something else to this? And why is there this mention of rent splitting and living with roomies? Maybe there's just some serious investment in Jeff's personal life, or maybe there's a hint in there that he should be taking.]

Well, willing roomies is always the better option when compared with random children. I mean it's really nnnnot the best image to portray for a TV star when I'm getting press follow me back to my place only to see three kids here. [Not that he's necessarily that popular, but it's still a valid concern. The public might not appreciate a forty year old dude living with a bunch of kids, even if it can be explained with Govt housing issues.]

It doesn't matter. If I find somewhere, then great, if not, then I can wait around for something to come along. [Although now that he's got an office, a super cool sporty hovercar (thanks Satan) and some sort of money coming in, he supposes house hunting is next on the list.]

You and April still getting on alright together at your place?

[Juuuust checking that there hasn't been a split up just yet.]

[He nods along—yes, willing roomies are better, not the best image, he gets it. And while Will is maybe going to spend part of this night knocked out on Jeff's couch if things go that way (Lord knows he needs to sleep sometime), it seems like the little guy on the table has already taken that step. He gives off all the appearances of being completely asleep on Jeff's coffee table, at ease, feeling safe enough to do so. Go ahead and poke him, Jeff, see if that changes anything.

That question changes plenty, gets an actual human smile out of Will for a split second, fond and normal instead of the entire process that led up to getting here. There's no desperation or sad hope he's reaching out to the right person, just honest affection.]

Yeah, we're fine. Abigail's moved in now, too. We're, uh, getting along better than I ever dreamed of.

[But if Jeff wants a guy near his age to ride around in the super cool sporty hovercar (thanks Satan) so he can check out ladies walking down the sidewalk, Will can manage to sit still for a while. Drink in someone else's midlife crisis...after he downs the rest of Jeff's scotch in one go and slides the glass on the table with a quick wave of his hand. No refill please.

Yet.]

[That little guy on the table can sleep all he wants. Jeff's actually pretty okay with it curled up and quiet, so long as it doesn't scratch up the surface. Not that it's all that important because the table is a piece of shit anyway, he totally needs to buy all new furniture when he gets to a new place.

But moving plans could wait until he actually moved, and it's impolite to dream of fancy apartments after he's just asked Will a question.

The answer gets a slight sneer, his lip curling with a strange amount of affection behind the gesture because ew gross, love and wives and happiness and stuff.]

Jesus, you're sickening.

[He's only playing, bro. He just jelly.]

[Disgusted by his joy, not an uncommon thing for Will Graham. The taut smile Jeff's reaction (playful or otherwise) pulls out of him comes with wonder, too, about whether or not Jeff would say those words and be completely sincere with them if he revealed a bit more about what drew him here tonight. Who pulled Abigail Hobbs and Frederick Chilton and he as tightly together as they unfortunately are, if Jeff knew the real reasoning behind making that totally sober post about food...

He looks up for a moment, one eyebrow lifting as he weighs the change of topic. What should come next, now that he's sickened Jeff?]

You found anybody here that you...like?

[In the creaky bed way. Oh no, is Will sitting on another sex couch? Maybe he'll inherit it soon, too.]

Edited 2015-06-23 04:27 (UTC)

06/12/15 - 11-ish

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