ArchivedLogs:Awwwkward

Awwwkward
Dramatis Personae Peter, Shane, Eric, Daiki
In Absentia	2013-05-30 So awkward.
Location <WES> The Grindstone - Salem Center
Bright and cheery, this coffeeshop is Salem Center's social hub. Its black-and-white tiled floors are always kept spotless, and the deep wooden tables are polished smooth. Seating here is abundant, found in the clusters of large and social tables and tucked away at smaller booths, or along the stools at the window counters where the large windows make for ideal people-watching along the main street of Salem Center. It's afternoon; classes have finished for the day and it's not QUITE time yet for everyone to get fancified and head out to cheer Shelby on in her ART THROWDOWN. Just time for slipping out to avoid the HEAT and get some delicious drinks instead. Shane has come here with his PEEPS in tow. Pimpin'. Well, OK, he doesn't actually look very pimpin'; in lieu of purple velvet suit and cane he has neat pale-blue corduroys, a white dress shirt, a blue vest, deep pink tie. Newsboy cap. He's holding the door open for the others as they arrive at the Grindstone, and -- admittedly looking a little peakish, it's /hot/ outside. "I'm getting a fucking -- whatsit. When they blend the coffee with /ice/." Shane reeeeally wants ice. He's kind of pale, though oddly not sweating in the ninety degree heat. "Frappe?" Daiki suggests. He looks put-together as ever; white tunic with a mandarin collar, neat grey trousers. "I certainly would enjoy a smoothie." /He's/ brought his backpack with him. Because he does not want to miss an opportunity for studying. Peter is /also/ not enjoying the heat. Particularly since, as a result of his very shiny chitin, he has a tendency to /sparkle/ very noticeably in direct sunlight -- a situation that has prompted him to cover as much skin as possible. The long-sleeve off-green collared shirt he's wearing isn't doing him any favors; neither are the navy-blue dress-slacks. He has, /maybe/ unbuttoned his shirt a little lower than is appropriate (just a SMIDGE), and has been flopping the collar back and forth perpetually, to generate a little wind. He's also not wearing shoes; just -- funny looking two-toed socks. Black. They /kinda/ look like shoes. "Frappe. Smoothie. Whatever. Oh man it feels /nice/ inside," Peter announces the moment he steps into the interior of the store, just -- spreading his arms, as if to /absorb/ the cool air. He's also jammed his leather wrist-watches into his pockets, neatly folded, because. Well. He doesn't go /anywhere/ without them. But he's not wearing them because HOLYCRAP what the hell it is hot. The car that pulls up to the curb in front of The Grindstone doesn't quite match the person getting out of the driver's door - and, it seems, is a little bit outside its jurisdiction. Despite the name of the police department it belongs to being 'New York', it is referring to the important 'New York', not the state 'New York', and belongs a good deal further south than it is. Nor is Eric wearing the navy blue of the city's police department - or of any police department, anyway. Unless one has decided to include black jeans and a tight black muscle-shirt torn off near the shoulders as their uniform. Eric steps into the resturant a few moments after the crowd of TEENAGER arrives, glancing around. His eyes fall on Shane and company, and he steers quickly over to them. "Few-ee." he says, smiling down at the table. "It feels like Georgia out there." he says, dropping down into a seat and winking at Shane. "Yeah, um, I might just not leave the lake all summer because holy fuck it's /hot/ on land." Shane finds them a free table, slumps down into a chair. Daiki does not slump; he sets his bag down carefully beside his seat, and turns to look at the menu behind the counter. He stoops without taking his eyes off the menu board to open his backpack. Pull out a little spritz bottle that says 'Reptile Mister' on it. Squirt squirt squirt. He /mists/ Shane, and then looks at Peter with eyebrows raised questioningy. Shane /sighs/ happily. "Oh my god that feels like basically the best thing ever. Why don't you /both/ just come live in the lake with me, it'll be like heaven." "Until we drown," Daiki agrees with a small curl of smile. Shane's expression lights back up at Eric's arrival. "No /way/ Georgia was way nicer -- I /know/ we were /just/ there." He has been slumping down in his seat but now he bounces back up, darting over to give Eric a quick /squeeze/ of hug. "Hi! You came. We're all moving into the lake for summer." "Um," Peter says, looking at that spritzer in Daiki's hands with -- yes, that's /definitely/ a hopeful look. "...would you...?" Once SPRITZ'D, Peter sighs with relief (even if his shirt is maybe a little damp in the process) and leans back on the chair, mumbling. "I'm not very good at swimming," he tells Shane, before adding: "But I could learn -- um. Maybe I could get, like, scuba gear." He seems to actually be /thinking/ about it. But then... there's an ERIC, and. Peter's eyebrows /shoot/ up. He's suddenly up on his feet. Just, kind of staring at Eric. Wide-eyed. And then, staring at Shane. And then, staring at Eric. And. Uh. "...what are you doing here?" Very quietly, with an edge of confusion lingering behind it. "Moving into a lake, apparently." Eric drawls as he squeezes Shane in a tight hug before releasing him back to his seat. Catch and release, folks. He glances at Daiki, first, giving him a smile and a respectful nod of his head before he turns his attention back to Peter, flicking eyes up and down the teenager measuringly. "You coming too?" his smile flicks into a wider grin, eyes twinkling mischeviously. "Shane likes it more when he's in the water." Spritz spritz spritz; the mist that Daiki sprays is blessedly cool. "The lake is shallow at the ends. Or there is the pool. We could teach you," he offers, with a small smile. "Dai's probably a /better/ teacher even," Shane admits, keeping one arm hooked around Eric until he is released. Then he plops back down into a seat, between Peter and Daiki at the small round table. "I mean I'll /totally/ teach you we can start /tomorrow/. But he's got, like, /your/ kind of hands and your kind of lungs so he -- swims a way that's better for you." His brow creases slightly, at Peter's confusion. "What's -- I mean, Eric's my -- I said I was bringing /all/ my peeps out for coffee didn't I?" He looks confused. Daiki looks surprised at Eric's arrival too, admittedly, though he shows it in ony a faint lift of eyebrows. He returns Eric's nod, deep enough to be closer to a bow. "You did. I had not thought that -- the city is quite far. Eric and Shane," he starts to explain to Peter, "are --" But this explanation trails off into a small shrug. "I have looked into scuba gear, myself. Perhaps we should." "... Oh my /god/ if you had scuba gear we could hang out down there for/ever/!" Shane suddenly /bounces/ in his seat, excited, "I could show you the /real/ bedroom Bastian and I sleep in, it's -- I mean, it's hard to -- get to if you can't breathe water um. Also sort of hidden but. I'd show /you/ guys." His smile is toothy-bright. "What do y'all want to drink, I'm totally buying." "..." Peter's mouth is, uh. A little open. Just /staring/ at Eric, now. At what he's saying, and what Shane is saying, and now they're talking about showing Peter the twins' /real/ bedroom, under the water, and. And. Peter's struggling just to catch up here. When he speaks next, his voice is kind of cracked: "I did not know. That included. Um. Hi, Eric," Peter announces, visibly tensed, before slowly sliiiiiiding back down to his seat. Skin going from metallic blue to violet. "...I, uh, yeah. Scuba gear would -- I could. I wouldn't mind. That would be neat, seeing where you guys -- yeah," Peter admits, continuing to stare at Eric. "...he's. You're. Hi, Eric," Peter repeats. Shoulders clenched. Hands shoved under the table. Peter's eyes drift toward the door, then. To Eric's car. Just kind of, uh. Staring at /that/, instead. "Iced coffee, milk and sugar?" Eric says, and he blows Shane a kiss with a bright, twinkling smile. "It is, but I was in the neighborhood. Running some files back from Sing Sing." he says, shrugging his shoulders as he kicks his feet up against one of the table legs and pushes himself backwards slightly onto two legs of the chair. Eric's eyes turn back to Daiki, and he leans forward, sitting back up straight. "I don't think we've met. Eric," he says, extending a hand with a warm smile towards the younger man. "Always good to meet another one of Shane's people." His eyes slide over to Peter, the edges of his lips quirking upwards into a more mischevious smile. As his eyes watch Peter look over the car, he reaches into his pocket with his other hand and slides a leather clip backed object, clip-up, over towards Peter. The edges of it glint, silver. "Something cold," Daiki says with a quiet laugh. "I trust you." He doesn't take Eric's hand, but, somehow, coming from him it doesn't feel like a /slight/; instead he dips his head again, his smile warm enough that the quiet pull of his mutation tugs just a bit harder. "Daiki," he offers. "We have not, though I have heard much about you. You two --" He looks between Peter and Eric, "are acquainted?" "/I'd/ like it -- I could show you so many things oh my god there are some spots that -- well," Shane blushes, slightly, "... maybe you won't find it as exciting unless you're /us/ but there are some /really gorgeous things/ in the ocean and I want to show you guys /all/ of them." He kisses Daiki on the temple when he gives his not-order, and looks at Peter expectantly. "You want a thing?" He tips his chin towards the menu. And then follows Peter's gaze out of the window towards the car. The smile fades from his face. He reaches across the table to push Eric's hand /back/, folding the other man's fingers over his badge. "Fuck you," he says, though without any bite to it, just a wrinkle of his nose, "-- Peter, it's okay, he's not -- I'm sorry, I just. It's just coffee." "I, uh. Sure," Peter says in response to Eric's question, eyes focused squarely on that car. Suddenly /very/ terse. Both his hands are now sliding into his pockets, fumbling with something. "We -- uh," Peter struggles over Daiki's question. "--maybe?" When Shane starts talking about the things under the ocean, Peter makes a weak attempt at a smile, but doesn't look away from the car; his chitin is still violet. His eyes only move -- quick, snapping to attention -- when Eric's hand moves and produce that leather with silver clip. Peter immediately pushes himself back from his seat -- a harsh *CRRRKT* of metal against tile as he shoves himself back about -- two, three? feet. He's now breathing hard, face flushed with violet -- and... pointing his left wrist at Eric. Actually, it probably looks pretty ridiculous -- almost like Peter was offering one of his hands up to be handcuffed! Except for the funny looking wrist-watch he's currently got on. Peter's expression is /very/ tense, and /very/ jittery. When Shane reaches out to curl his fingers around the badge, Peter's eyes widen with confusion, followed by panic, followed by: "Ohjeez. Ohman. What--oh, jeez, you're not--" He /shoves/ his wrist down, tentatively scooting back toward the table, violet turning indigo. "--ohmanI'msorry I just. Panicked." Eric slips the badge back into his pocket and gives Shane an innocent little smile. "Yes, we are. Peter and I met when he broke into a government contractor building." he says, turning his attention back onto Peter. His eyebrows furrow a little bit together in a faint look of confusion, head tilting just a smidge to one side. "We have somewhat of a tradition, where I keep telling him to come into the station to clear all that up before the feds catch him, and he keeps ignoring me." He turns and flashes a wide smile at Daiki. "It's a wonderful tradition." The sarcasm in his voice is light, as thick as its spread - he doesn't seem particularly upset about any of this. "Relax, Peter. I'm here for fun, not for work, despite the car." "Don't be an asshole," this is just a hair sharper, from Shane, and he's sitting in his seat again but pulling it over towards Peter's. "Hey it's alright I just -- /sorry/, I didn't even think about -- I sometimes forget he's a cop -- well not /really/ I mean it's kinda hot when /he/ handc -- no I mean what I mean is sorry I didn't. Think that." His brow creases deeply, hand tentatively reaching towards Peter's. "... just supposed to be hanging out. You don't have to. If you're uncomfortable you can -- I'll go back with you but he's -- not here for -- he's cool." "Coming to the station," Daiki points out, very mildly even though his magnetic pull is only growing, "might not have been the most prudent idea, you must admit. Given --" His eyes lower. "The circumstances." Peter's expression goes from brief apologetic panic to something much harder as he scoots back to the table and listens to Eric. He hears Shane, but he's staring at Eric; when Shane touches the back of Peter's hand, the hand's already retracting -- along with its sibling -- both moving to just, /grab/ the edge of that table. And squeeze. As Peter pulls himself up. Somehow, Eric's playful observation about clearing things up at the station gets translated as a /request/. "I am /NOT/," Peter announces -- voice sharp, hard, and suddenly /angry/, "going to the station." The table's metal edge /creaks/ beneath Peter's fingers. Like he's preparing to /lift/ it. Daiki's magnetic pull seems to have a brief effect; Peter's eyes snap over to him -- then, for a moment, over to Shane -- and, the creaking under his hands stops, his grip slackening. "...he's /cool/?" Peter asks, with a mixture of -- confusion? Disbelief? Bafflement? He's very slowly beginning to sink back into his seat. Daiki gets a baffled look from Eric as well. Perhaps he's collecting. "What d'ya mean, the circumstances?" he asks. As Peter's voice hardens and anger sparks in it, Eric, too, tenses in his seat, back straightening up and hands quickly unlacing themselves from the relaxed posture that they were in. The tension bleeds out of his body as it does out of Peter, eyes locked on the teenager in a wary gaze. "Yeah," Eric adds. "I'm cool. We're cool." Who needs hostage negotiators when you've got Eric's quick wit? He glances around the table, once, lips thinning into a line. He stands, abruptly. "I'll get the drinks. What did you want, Shane?" he asks, taking a step back away from the table and giving the younger men a bit of distance. "Yeah, he's -- well /no/," Shane says this a little more irritably now, "okay he's not cool he's kind of an /asshole/ but not /that/ kind of an asshole just -- mngh. Like /my/ kind of an asshole not like /their/ kind of an asshole." He scrubs his palm against his cheek and his eyes narrow on Eric. "-- What the fuck do you mean?" There's a moment when his teeth bare, words snapped more than spoken: "I mean /maybe/ you've already /forgotten/ that your people were rounding us up and killing us? Doesn't really make you want to just stroll into the station and -- ksssh." He hisses a sharp breath through his teeth, dropping his head back into his hands. "You're not -- you don't have to go. To the." Shane speaks muffled against his palm. "Everybody," suggests Daiki softly, "should maybe just -- be calm. I do not think Eric intended -- perhaps," he murmurs, "he was not aware. That Peter --" His hand turns up. He looks up at Eric. "You need," he tells him, gentle but very serious, "to /not/ be a police officer for a while, if you want to stay here with us." "Oh," Peter says, wide-eyed, his eyes now on Daiki. "Oh. Oh, he -- /oh/," Peter repeats, and now he's sinking much more quickly down into his seat, that brief flash of steeled anger evaporating to expose a mixture of embarassment and exhaustion. "Oh, jeez. Is that -- does he even, know? What happened. That -- /oh/. Oh, jeez, I thought he was. Oh, man, I was." His head sinks into his arms, on top of the table. Muttered, under his breath: "I was going to maybe throw the table at him. I think. I don't know. I'm sorry. Jeez. I thought he was -- he means the /terrorist/ thing oh jeez I'm sorry. Shane, I'm sorry I just, I should have figured that out, oh wow this is awkward I'm sorry." Peter just kind of /melts/ on top of the table, now. Burying his head beneath arms. Eric's eyes flash, anger sparking in his voice as well. "You think I don't know that?" he says, voice a low growl of anger. "How do you think your Pa found out about where you were so that they could break you out?" he says, narrowing his eyes on Shane. "Who'd'ya think is the kind of guy in your Pa's circle of friends who'd fit in well among a bunch'a cops who regularly execute mutants for fun?" Eric shakes his head, turning to Daiki. "I'm not wearing the uniform, am I? I'm not here to work." A pause, and he takes in a long breath. "-- I'll get my own drink." With this, he turns and steps over towards the counter, making a show of hemming and hawing over the menu while he slowly unclenches his fist, tiny half-moon shapes in his hand where his nails had dug in smoothing over in only moments. "Jesus/fuck/ what did I say about not being an asshole." Shane's palms /dig/ against his eyes, and he slumps forward with a huff. One hand creeps tentatively to Peter's shoulder; also tentative is the kiss he presses to the back of Peter's buried head. "Mgh," he says, standing with a squeeze to shoulder, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't -- think. I just wanted --" His shoulders droop. "... let's get coffee somewhere else, guys." "M'sorry, I--" Peter responds, apologizing /back/ to Shane's apology -- as if they're going to have some sort of apology-off. His head bumps up against Shane's kiss, a ragged sigh in his throat. "It's okay. Yeah. I -- yeah. You shouldn't --" Peter pulls his head up, then. Throwing on a meek little smile, reaching out to touch Shane's arm and /squeeze/ reassuringly. "--you didn't do anything wrong. This whole /thing/ is just. Okay. Let's get something to drink. Something cold." He rises, before adding, voice a little more quiet: "...I totally do want you to show me -- where you stay. Swim. Under water. All that stuff, um. Some day." The drink that Eric's ordering doesn't take long - they already have large pitchers of iced coffee ready, since it doesn't exactly need to be fresh out of the percolator, and he pays with cash. Letting the barista keep the change and, for once, not even flirting with them, he heads back towards the little group of teenagers, looking calmer, now, and taking a sip of the coffee - milk, and extra sugar. He sinks back down into the chair heavily, looking over at Shane and Peter. "I didn't know you were there." Eric says, softly. "Nobody told me, and after bein' there, I wasn't exactly able to come when they got you guys." His voice is hesitant. "And bein' there would have made more things worse than it helped." Shane's head nuzzles down when Peter's pulls up, pressing against his hair and then touching a small kiss to his temple. "... I think you'd like it," he says, though he oddly sounds kind of shy about this. "I mean it's not like. It's -- kind of alien there. Compared to up here. But. Pretty." Something in these words curls Daiki's lips into a smile. He picks up his reptile mister and slings his backpack back onto his shoulders. He doesn't put the mister /away/. "That place down the street makes good bubble tea," he suggests. "Or just smoothies if you do not like the boba." Shane tenses when Eric returns, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing. "We're going," he tells him sharply, but his eyes unnarrow at the other man's tone. He shifts uncomfortably, looking between Eric and Peter. "-- he was there. He was /there/ and we -- without him I --" His gills flutter. "We're going," he says, and this time there's no heat to it, just kind of a little defeated. "Sorry. This was dumb I'm bad at people." "It'd be -- I mean, I kind of just want to see where you spend your time," Peter admits, violet /creeeeeping/ back in as Shane kisses his temple. "Also it's kind of cool, that, like. Not many other people /get/ to see it? But, yeah, it'd be awesome just to see--" Peter eyes the reptile mister as Daiki holds it in his hand. Maybe thinking about asking for a respritz, since they are going outside. /Again/. Veeeery slowly, his hand descends to curl against Shane's -- fingers brushing his, coyly, before -- well, webbed hands are not really /made/ for hand-holding. But Peter does his best. When Eric returns, Peter tenses up too -- but more in response to /Shane's/ tenseness. At Shane's words, Peter's violet gets a little more intense, and: "...s'fine." To Shane, maybe; also maybe to Eric. "I mean --" he flicks his eyes back to Eric. "--I can usually -- /tell/ when I'm in, um. Trouble. I just. The car, the badge. I just panicked anyway. Um. Maybe," Peter adds, turning darker violet and looking at Shane's feet. "...we can try a do-over sometime. Or something. I, uh, dunno." Eric glances between the teenagers, and his shoulders curve inwards slightly. "Yeah, maybe we can. And... I'll go. I'm one guy, and you're three. 'Ought to be getting back to the city, anyway." He takes another sip of his coffee and stands, lifting it in a salute. "Good to meet you Daiki." he says, nodding his head once and giving that teenager, at least, a warm smile. He looks at Shane and Peter, hesitates for a moment, and then turns for the door. "Just me and Bastian ever see it. But I'd like if it you guys did." There's a distinct tension still twined through Shane's shoulders as Eric gets up to leave, and it spreads to his features, tightening his eyes, pressing his lips together, a /twinge/ in his expression that does not vanish as his head tips down. His hand curls back into Peter's. There is an art to webbed-hand handholding. Shane has the angle well practiced. "... something cold," he says, even though his eyes follow Eric through the window even after the other man has left. It takes a moment before he turns back to Peter and Daiki with a smile. "I'm still buying."