driftfleet | JULY PLANET MINGLE

Picking on you.

[Caesar shakes his head, absolutely baffled. He leans over, shifting his weight until it's almost all focused on Joseph's wrists, until he's close enough to his face to block out the sun, to see the moment he begins to turn and go for more water.]

This is called winning. It's not my fault you and the fish are sore losers.

Do you just not want to spend the money on me? That's very cheap of you. Or the fish. I can't figure out which.

[That is very incredibly close to Joseph's face. Their noses are almost touching and Joseph can see exactly where Caesar's eyes begin to turn a darker shade of green around his pupils. He knows he could really turn the tables right now if he wanted. Caesar's watching him and expecting him to go for more water, but would he see a headbutt coming? Probably not. And this close, there'd be no avoiding it. But Joseph only entertains the idea for a second before setting it aside.]

Hey, are you accusing me of trying to back out of a deal? You know me better than that, Caesar. I'm a man of my word and always make good on my end of a deal.

If you've got a problem, you should take it up with the fish, not with me.

[For a second Caesar opens his mouth as if to retort - something, anything clever, about the fish that doesn't exist or Joseph's assertion of extreme honor or even what he's going to eat, because they've been out here for hours and he knows Joseph must be getting hungry.]

[But he doesn't say any of those things. Something about the way Joseph looks at him, for a fraction of a second, a look on his face intense and hyper-focused when he meets Caesar's eyes. Or maybe Caesar's just imagining it - maybe it's a trick of the light. Either way, it makes him dizzy.]

[He lets out a sharp breath, a disbelieving laugh, and leans forward to rest his forehead against Joseph's. Their noses do brush, just for a moment, and he closes his eyes, letting Joseph's hands go all in one easy movement. He knows he'll probably get thrown backwards in the water again for this, but. But.]

[Something.]

Tell the fish, [he says, his voice a low drawl, almost drowned out in the sound of the surf,] that I'll buy your damn drinks.

Edited 2015-07-20 05:23 (UTC)

[Joseph freezes when Caesar closes the distance and he doesn't really know why. He wasn't sure what Caesar was going to do, but it's not like he doesn't trust him or something. And besides, if he was about to do something that was going to hurt, he probably would have done it faster than that so Joseph doesn't have much time to react. Instead, Caesar is just resting his forehead on Joseph's, closing his eyes, and letting Joseph's wrists go free. Joseph moves his hands to Caesar's chest to push him off, but he stops. With Caesar this close, he can smell beneath the crisp, briny smell of the water, the softer scent of soap. It's not that he hasn't been around or used soap since... But well, he hasn't really wanted to notice it before, because well...]

[Joseph swallows hard, his attention somewhere between trying to attach meaning to what Caesar is saying and the warmth of Caesar's skin as a stark contrast to the cool water around them. The rest of him feels a little cold now, but his face feels warmer while their breaths mingle; he just makes a soft noises of agreement to whatever it is Caesar said since he hasn't quite figured that out. He doesn't know why exactly it seems like his every sense right now is getting so narrowed and so focused, and yet feels so incredibly overwhelming. He feels his stomach tighten and decides immediately that this is stupid and he probably just accidentally drank some seawater when he was screwing out spitting it at Caesar before finally shoving Caesar off and straight into the water.]

[He shakes his head like a dog and then starts pushing his hair into something that will at least be moderately manageable until it dries.]

You know, I wanted to fix the sandcastle, but I'm starved, [he says, glossing over the fact that he only heard Caesar's voice, but none of the words. Joseph looks over at him.] Whaddya say?

[Caesar flops back into the water when Joseph pushes him with a muted sound of protest. His heart's not really in it, his head somewhere else entirely - he couldn't even begin to pinpoint where. His hand comes up automatically to touch where Joseph's hands were on his chest, a brief expression of wonder crossing his face. Then he looks up at Joseph, shaking his head and spraying water everywhere, and lets his hand drop, and breathes out very slowly through his nose.]

I thought you might be. [There's that note of fondness in his voice again. Apparently, once it's in, it's impossible to get out.] Let's go. The sand will still be here tomorrow.

[He stands, shoves his own hair into some kind of manageable order, and holds out his hand for Joseph again. Didn't we just do this? he thinks, and wonders how far they'll get before they start fighting again - if they'll get through dinner without arguing, if they'll be more or less agreeable drunk. Caesar plans to get very drunk. It's been a long, strange, confusing day, and it isn't even over yet.]

Tell me what you want to eat, Jojo.

[Joseph comes close to hesitating in taking Caesar's hand, but he makes himself do it deliberately and without that hesitation coming to fruition. Once he's back on his feet,]

Honestly, I would eat just about anything after having to put up with the shit they call food on the ships. But hey, [he hooks an arm around Caesar's neck,] meal's on me, remember? It should be your pick.

[He grins crookedly and pushes Caesar's hair back in his face.]

Besides, you're definitely a way fussier eater than I am.

[This is patently untrue, but just as Joseph quite deliberately put his hand on Caesar's to get back up to his feet, he is also quite deliberately trying to fall back into old patterns instead of the alternative. Whatever that alternative happens to be.]

[Caesar ducks, bowing his head when Joseph starts to mess with his hair. It's as if nothing happened at all. Maybe nothing did. He pushes his hand past Joseph's to shove his hair back up out of his face, forcing himself to relax in his friend's grip, and shivers a little in the cooling air.]

Just because I don't eat everything doesn't mean I'm picky. Goats are fussier eaters than you.

[One hand reaches out to rest on Joseph's shoulder. That's better. That's more - right.]

They do something interesting just past the beach. Like pasta, but not quite. It's only a few minutes' walk.

[Joseph exaggeratedly rolls his eyes at what he feels is a very weak insult about his appetite.]

You just don't know what's good for you. Your and the goats. [So take that.] You gotta be open to new experiences, Caesar, or you'll start missing out on something really good. Or in this case, delicious.

[See, he learned that from trying spaghetti al nero di seppia. And people act like he never learns or is uncultured. Pfffft!]

You would find the closest thing to pasta on another planet though. Alright, not-quite-pasta it is!

Oh, I'm not open to new experiences?

[Caesar shoves Joseph lightly in the middle of his shoulderblades, beginning to push them both up the beach. He's feeling simultaneously reckless and uncharacteristically generous, a combination that makes his skin itch. Which is why:]

They serve other things there. Different things. [Weirder things.] Pick something for me. If I don't eat it, lunch is on me for our stay. If I do--

[The briefest hesitation. He wants to say if I do, you have to forgive me, but even at his worst he's never thought that's how forgiveness works.]

If I do, you have to learn something new from me.

Edited 2015-07-21 02:17 (UTC)

[It's the initial thought isn't what's put in as part of the deal. Joseph would have been instantly furious among other things. It's not like he hasn't been or isn't still trying in his own way to forgive Caesar. Not just forgive, but really understand what was going through his head to make him leave the way he did. Especially now when Joseph's had a thirst for revenge. But he finds he can't, not all the way. Sometimes he wonders if Caesar knows that succeeding doesn't leave you feeling any better than failing and other days, he feels like Caesar should have known.]

[But Caesar knows better than to make that part of this deal and the can of worms that will eventually be opened remains closed for another day.]

I can pick anything for you to eat? As long as they serve it? [At this, Joseph's grin turns wicked. He laughs, bright and confident that this is absolutely no competition. He's seen some of the things the locals around here eat and he doesn't think someone as prissy as Caesar would even contemplate putting any of that near his mouth much less eat it.] You have to clear your plate. You can't just eat part of it and say you're full or make up excuses. If it's not all gone, I win.

But it wouldn't be fair to make you eat something I wouldn't eat at all. [He holds up a finger.] I'll take one bite of it. If I spit it out, then I automatically forfeit.

[Okay, it's not really fair. If it was, Joseph would have the same thing and have to also clear his plate. But Caesar was the one stupid enough to make this proposition so of course Joseph's going to tip it in his favor while not putting much of an effort of pretending like that isn't exactly what he's doing.]

[It's not fair, and Caesar knows it. In a way, it's a deliberate self-sabotage. He knows Joseph loves winning as much as he does, knows that an easy victory will distract him from everything that happened on the beach, during a day that Caesar still can't determine an unmitigated failure or a resounding, bizarre, confusing success. Part of him wants desperately to distract Joseph, and part of him wants desperately to distract himself. Drink and new things and odd food and Joseph smiling will do that. He knows at least two of these things from experience.]

[His hand shifts to Joseph's shoulder again, and Caesar smiles, a little distant, facing forward into the setting sun.]

Deal, [he says, and then, almost as an afterthought,] Sometimes you're a very wicked person, Jojo.

[Which isn't what he wants to say. He wants to say You're the best person I know, and the most important person in the world to me. In the universe. My biggest mistake was leaving you behind.]

[He can't imagine a world in which it would be safe to say any of this. So he swallows it with the last of the seawater in his mouth and keeps walking.]

Edited 2015-07-21 03:01 (UTC)

[Joseph hangs back for just a second because he's not always the most observant, but he does notice some of the distance in Caesar's smile. Naturally, he wonders what it's all about. He's trying to ignore what happened (if something even happened in the first place) and focus on keeping things a light competition as always. He thought Caesar was there with him, but then he seems miles away for a brief moment and he doesn't know what to make of it.]

[Brushing it aside since thinking in circles won't do him any favors, Joseph catches up quickly enough and even gets ahead of Caesar by a couple of steps, turning to walk backwards. Which is probably not his best idea given Joseph's level of coordination (never mind it's Caesar that knows where they're going, not Joseph), but he trusts that if he's going to fall down it will be by Caesar's choice. So, he probably doesn't have anything to worry about. Probably.]

I know! It always catches people off-guard. Wanna know why? [He doesn't actually wait for Caesar to answer. Dramatically, he places a hand over his heart.] It's my naturally gentle and kindhearted disposition.

[He grins, looking absolutely smug and full of himself as he believes he ought to. Because he's great. He doesn't just think that, he knows it. It's simply fact.]

Or if that doesn't get them, then my good looks certainly disarm them. They convince themselves there's absolutely no way I could be so devious, but that's all part of my cunning strategy.

You could learn a thing or two from me, Caesarino.

[There's absolutely no way to avoid looking at Joseph now. It's flatly impossible. Which might be the point, Caesar thinks, half-listenin. If Joseph noticed him retreating into himself, his first action would be trying to distract him. And Joseph is very good at being distracting. It's practically his primary skill.]

I could learn a thing or two from you. [His voice is a little numb at first, but then it comes out stronger, sharper, indignant, only a little forced.] From you? I don't think so, idiota. I'm the one who just caught you offguard, remember? Or did your little fish wipe your memory for you, too?

[He shoves Joseph in the chest with both hands, hard enough to make him stumble but not fall. He can feel old familiar things burning in him: irritation, competitiveness, a flicker of anger. They comfort him. Feeling bad is much more natural than feeling as though the stars have realigned themselves while he's been playing a game he doesn't understand.]

[Joseph catches his balance fairly smoothly, his grin not wavering for a second. Caesar's responding exactly how he expected and it feels much better.]

One time. [He holds up a finger again.] You caught me off-guard just one time. Don't start getting an even bigger ego, Caesar, or there won't be enough room for everyone else on the beach.

And you seriously need to stop talking shit about that fish, or you're gonna have to stay out of the water the rest of the time we're here.

[He catches up to Joseph, shoves him again, his feet skidding for purchase in the sand. Better, better, much better; nothing happened, nothing will happen, nothing's bothering either of them. Things are as they have always been.]

One time. And it'll be twice tomorrow and three times the next day, until you can't count high enough to count the times I've beaten you. [This grim, solid as a promise, though who knows, really - and then Caesar narrows his eyes and proclaims in a loud, clear voice:]

Your fish. Is shit.

[So there.]

[Joseph manages to catch himself again, this time with a laugh. He even laughs through all of Caesar's assertions of superiority until the fish gets dragged into it. Then his jaw hangs open for a long moment before he scoffs.]

[He shakes his head gravely.]

When it starts trying to pull you down into the sea, don't say I didn't warn you, Caesar. You should do the right thing and apologize now while you've still got the chance.

I'll never apologize to your fish.

[This is the stupidest thing he's ever said. Why is he saying it? Why does he say and do all the most ridiculous things when Joseph's around? It's insane.]

[Huffing, he shoves Joseph away by pushing him in the middle of his forehead.]

Come on, you - you - come on. I thought you said you were hungry.

[And - as reckless, as insane, as impossible as he's feeling - he grabs Joseph by the hand and takes off up the beach before he can think better of it.]

[All Joseph can really do is just shake his head in mock-disappointment at a Caesar's stubbornness about his fish, as though truly convinced that Caesar will come to regret this clearly terrible decision. But he doesn't get a chance to come back with anything. Before he can even get his mouth open to speak, Caesar catches him off-guard (again) and has a hold of his hand, pulling him along the beach.]

Hey! Wait up!

[Joseph stumbles the first few steps, but once he's got his balance he's good and able to keep up.]

[He looks over his shoulder - once, briefly, just to make sure Joseph's keeping up - and sees the look on his face, the surprise, and grins, triumphant again.]

I won't! Run faster!

[Another little competition. He doesn't know who'll win, but he knows they'll both arrive at the restaurant panting and covered in sand. Which is enough to make him squeeze Joseph's hand and laugh into the wind as they leave the beach behind.]

[If Joseph wanted to, he could probably outrun Caesar. He's only a few inches taller, but he still has a longer stride. But he doesn't push himself that hard. He's not all that bothered by following Caesar. In fact, there's a part of Joseph that delights in it. Caesar's hand squeezes his and Joseph's hold on his hand tightens, not daring to let Caesar slip away. It's almost as if he's afraid of what it would feel like to have Caesar's fingers slip past his. But also, in a way, it feels like old times. Joseph isn't dangling over a dangerous height for a change, but there's something nostalgic about holding on this tightly to one another.]

[When they make it to the restaurant, Joseph comes to a skidding halt behind Caesar. He bends over for a moment in trying to catch his breath, one hand on his knee and the other still in Caesar's for a few moments longer before he lets go and rests it on his other knee.]

[With a breathless laugh he looks up at Caesar and says,] If I wasn't hungry before, I could probably eat enough that these guys can close for the day and still turn a profit.

[He takes one last big breath of air and straightens himself out.]

[Joseph looks like a mess. His hair's in his face, there's sand up to his knees, and he's red in the face. Caesar is deliberately not thinking about how he looks, because there's nothing to be done about it now that Joseph's smelled food.]

[Still, it's - what was the word he'd decided on before? Endearing? - to see his friend so disheveled. Slicking his own wet hair away from his forehead and smiling, at Joseph and at the surprised-looking waitstaff who've poked their heads outside to see what the commotion is.]

Good, [he says, breathing heavy through his nose as his heart rate slows.] That's what you want, isn't it? To eat all the food off of this island while you're here so you don't have to eat space food?

[He gestures briefly at one of the waitresses whose face he recognizes from the last time he was here - table for two - and she slips away, gesturing for them to follow after. Caesar claps his hand on Joseph's shoulder.]

Come on, Jojo, or you'll start devouring the walls.

Edited 2015-07-21 07:41 (UTC)

The walls? [Joseph says with an indignant huff, shrugging Caesar's hand off. He fixes his hair as he follows after the waitress. Of course, his indignation is perhaps a little misplaced.] I'd start with the furniture, not the walls. That'd be way easier for them to replace.

[When they're seated, Joseph immediately intervenes.]

No, he doesn't get a menu. He can have the drinks menu.

[The waitress looks questioningly back and forth between Joseph and Caesar, but Joseph is insistent enough that she does as she's been asked. Joseph props the menu up like a screen in front of him and for a few minutes, points to various items asking her to describe it to him quietly. Eventually there is a "I'll have that," but it's a while longer before "He'll have that" and Joseph has to hide his grin behind his fist because he doesn't want to offend her with what he's doing. He's a little unsuccessful, but at this point, the waitress seems to just think he's a little odd. You know, the Typical Joseph Effect. So hey...]

[But he's feeling dastardly and particularly triumphant because there's absolutely no way Caesar is going to stomach this. Joseph is more or less certain that Caesar's going to end up picking off Joseph's plate instead. Joseph leans forward enough to rest an elbow on the table, sending Caesar that devious and wicked grin as he closes the menu and lets the waitress take it from him.]

[Caesar sends the waitress a few reassuring smiles to offset Joseph's bizarre behavior as well as he can - he's been here a few times, they know each other at least by name, and he hopes she trusts him not to bring a madman into her restaurant.]

[It takes him significantly less time to decide on drinks to start than it does Joseph to decide on entrees. This doesn't surprise him in the least - he set this trap for himself, after all. For Joseph, he chooses something he's decided is more or less analogous to mead, sweet and refreshing; for himself, a heavy, dry liquor that he's only tasted once and can't quite place. Ordinarily he'd choose something more like wine, but wine doesn't get him as drunk as he'd like to be tonight.]

[When Joseph is done ordering, Caesar orders as well, then quietly and politely places his hand on top of the drinks menu. They'll hang onto it for the moment, he says, and she goes away.]

[At which point he turns his attention to Joseph's wicked grin and sighs.]

What have you done, Jojo? Are you planning to poison me? That's cheating, you know.

I should be offended that you put so little faith in me. [But he can even put his grin away long enough to even look the part of even mildly offended at the accusation. He's far too pleased with himself.] Besides, I have to take a bite of it, too, remember?

[Just one bite. One bite that will probably be very difficult to stomach truth be told. But it's one bite compared to having to eat all of it. Joseph will just have to try for the least...slimy...and...twitchy part. That's right, less twitchy. That's about the only reason why Joseph is grinning this much because there's no way Caesar is going to put up with a dish that's still sorta moving. But he's going to let Caesar discover that surprise all on his own rather than spoil it.]

[Ah, the look on Caesar's face is going to be priceless.]

Wicked, [he pronounces softly, leveling an accusing finger at Joseph.] Absolutely evil.

[And then their drinks come, and Caesar's distracted. He slides the mead across to Joseph with one finger, then letting his head rest on his fist as he traces the moisture beading on the outside of his own glass.]

You always have to push, don't you. I've never met anyone who pushes me so much.

[It feels strange, saying aloud what they both know. But it would be an awful lie to act like he's not grateful.]

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