You've got a mean streak in you, Winters. [ It's just a shame Lew doesn't seem to care at all. He's always been the one to catch the vague roll of his eye or hear the dry timbre of his voice. It excites him, that the mild-mannered young man he met on day one has a bit of firecracker in him. Maybe it's because he's only ever seen people in extremes, those who fall over themselves to get him to like them, or those who wouldn't give a damn if he started to drown. Dick's in between, his friendship is clearly strong ( and Lew's still surprised he managed to win it ) but he's not frightened about giving him shit either.
Lew can give as good as he takes. He's just so glad he doesn't have to be careful. ]
Oh, you don't? [ His eyebrows lift towards his hair line as he falls in beside Dick to the path where the barracks are. He could do with a shower and clean clothes if he's going to do nothing more today. ] It's just so you can watch Sobel go dead behind the eyes, I'm on to you. Like I said, mean streak.
I'm trusting you not to tell anyone, Nixon. I'd hate for my reputation to be spoiled. It's how I'm going to rule the figurative roost one day. (Dick's lip hooks further to the side as he speaks, and truly, there's wickedness in his smile, too. It feels natural, though, to smile at him like this. In some ways Lew has brought Dick out of his shell, or at least, he's coaxed him into allowing him to come into his shell, because there's still no one else who gets to see him in this way. The men do occasionally, in little wise cracks and comments, but most don't see the full extent of it. So far, that's just for Nix.
He snorts out a breath of laughter, shrugging his shoulders.)
It gets repetitive after you've done it a few thousand times, which we all have by now, I reckon. It'd be nice if they spiced it up once in a while. (Dick gives him an innocent sort of look then, and if he'd had pockets his hands woul dbe in them.) But mostly it's that. Come on, Lew, you can't say you don't enjoy it.
[ He shrugs one shoulder and offers Dick a conspiratorial schoolboy smile. ] Your secret's safe with me. But when you make it to the top I'm calling in favours. [ He grins a little, ambling more loosely now he's stopped running. It's easier to drop in to this level of relaxation when he's around. Lew's not really sure how it happened but it was like from one moment to the next his defences were down and Dick was in his space like he was meant to be there the whole time.
Utterly deadpan. ] I don't enjoy it.
[ He grins a little, tongue between his teeth for a second before he hums, glancing back out to the training fields. ] Okay, maybe I do a little. It's nice to actually do something useful. But Christ Almighty I don't think a human body was meant to move quite as much.
Depends on what you're calling for, I can't let it look like I'm playing favourites, Nixon. (Dick makes sure to give him a deadpanned expression then, emphasising the on part of his last name clearly, because he rarely uses it in its entirety. Since the first day of their friendship he's been either Lew or Nix, the two are interchangeable, but still hold the same amount of familiarity to them. He too seems relaxed, he's still walking straight backed, but that was just who he was, and how he wanted. It always had been, and so even in the most comfortable of situations he won't slouch. But his smiles come easier, and he's more inclined to take it slow.)
Hah.
(Dick rolls his eyes at him, and then but when he catches his eye and the grin, he can't stop his own from breaking across his face. It's been a good day, after all. He hasn't been scolded yet, he has the day off since he spent the night patrolling, and so how could he complain about anything? And now his best friend is here at his side, and for some reason it's like the sun shines warmer on his skin, and brightens it all a little further. He snorts out a soft breath of laughter.) It's just working out all the stiffness built up from years bent over a desk and nothing else. Eventually you'll get loose.
Whiskey, mostly. [ He says it back just as deadpan, like he'd actually consider bribing Dick for it. He wouldn't, firstly it's not his style and secondly he doubts he'd have to. He doesn't play favourites but he seems to have a soft spot for Lew regardless. ]
You seem to have a higher opinion of me that my actual headmaster. Maybe when we win this thing I'll take you to see the old miser. It would make him crazy him to see someone as dedicated as you hanging out with a slacker like me. [ His grin widens for a moment, the insinuation on the word slacker doing nothing to confirm nor deny whether he was or not. Maybe people just saw him that way. Natural cleverness was always easily overlooked. ]
So, got anywhere you want to go? Or shall we go exploring? See what we can drum up in the town.
Unless you've suddenly become our Lord and saviour, I don't think you're going to get very far with the water I'd be giving you. I don't drink. (He could try, but it wouldn't work. At least, he would say that it wouldn't work, but it might, depending on his mood (which was always good when it came to Nix, so it would always work.) But he can't tell him that, that would give him too much of an upper edge.)
Did your headmaster actually like you? You always have the impression that you were something of a hellion. (Dick raises an eyebrow slightly at him, his lips quirking again.) Alright, when we win this, we'll go visit him, and I'll tell him all about how I followed you around Europe, and that I wouldn't know what to do without you. (Dick gives him a gentle, playful shove.) His jaw will drop.
No plans. (He shrugs his shoulders.) I was going to shower, see what's for supper in the mess, and then maybe go for a run, but if you have any other suggestions, I'm open to them.
[ He laughs a little, his whole face lighting up with it. ] Sure, you don't drink. But when you become the President or whatever you can just summon it for your good ol' friend. It won't be that big of a deal.
Oh, he hated me. He just couldn't say or do anything about it because the bankroll was more important. [ There's just the vaguest edge of bitterness to his voice, there and then gone when he looks at Dick. ] Yeah. [ He smiles this time, a rare and honest kind, without the usual mocking edge. He's lucky, to have someone like him on his side. ]
Seriously, running? You just did an obstacle course, Winters!
Right, so I'm supposed to abuse my power for your gain? The curtain rises and the truth comes forward, I'm seeing your true colours now.
(But it is a funny picture, it's not like he hasn't smuggled alcohol for Nix already. No one ever suspected him, after all. Everyone knew he didn't drink, so no one ever suspected him to have it on him, even with his best friend considered. They just didn't think he would do something like that, plain and simple. He was just the nice guy from Lancaster with questionable religious upbringings.)
Of course. (The bitterness earns him a gentle little bump, to pull him back into the present.) Sure is good money doesn't have anything to say for me then, huh? (And he smiles in return, just as honest.) I can't wait.
[ He laughs again, his eyebrows lifting so that his whole expression is as innocent as he can make it ... which is probably not very much. ] How is that any different than me abusing your footlocker? [ He doesn't really get how no one ever suspects Dick of bending the rules a little. Maybe they just get so confused by his comely face and dignity. But Nix knows him a little better than that. Dick wants to do the right thing, certainly, but he's not above being a sarcastic little shit who blurs the guidelines a little.
He gets bumped and it does it's trick, his bad thoughts ushered away like bats from a light. ]
No running. We're going out. I'll buy you dinner, how's about it?
I'm not letting you use my footlocker. You just do it, and I'm not in a position where I can say no and still maintain our relationship. (But he doesn't say anything against it, so it's not like he has ever given any indication that Nix shouldn't be using his footlocker. It's not like there's anything else in there of interest, he can get away with it.
It's his face, his serious nature, the fact that he has yet to break a rule (and be found out), and is always the one to lead the way. They just see the perfect soldier, which, in part is what he wants to be, at least now that he's trapped in a war. Why give them any other ideas?)
That. (Normally Dick would try to say no, or try to convince Nix to let him pay his own way, he could afford it and all, but tonight:) Where should we go? I'm in the mood for anything.
You could say no. [ He shrugs but it does nothing to soften the smirk on his face. ] I mean, I probably wouldn't listen. But you could say no.
[ His dumb serious face is the first thing that Nix started to get stuck on. He couldn't resist a man like Dick, a ginger angel with the humour of the devil. Part of him is incredibly glad that he was chosen and not someone else. It gives him a sense of bonding.
When Dick doesn't argue ( he always argues ), Nix's smile goes wide and utterly pleased. ] There's a nice pizza place a couple of block's over. Heard some of the guys talk about it. [ And it's not too fancy, which has to help. ]
(He considers a moment, one eyebrow raising slightly as he looks at him.) I don't remember saying yes in the first place, so I doubt you would.
(His face stays serious, impassive, but the quirked eyebrow gives away that he's quite amused. Someone who didn't know him well might think that he was being condescending, but by now most of the men knew him well enough to where none of them would react to his comments. They know that he's quiet, yes, but when he talks, it's because he has something worth saying.
His lips twitch a bit at the smile on Nix's face, he likes seeing him smile like that, he can never avoid smiling when he does.) Is that the place that Perconte and Guarnere were talking about the other day? The place almost like Mom's? (He remembers hearing something about an italian restaurant that had pizza like the homeland, as they put it.) That sounded good, even if I don't think I could do with spaghetti.
[ Nix just grins in response, a shit-eating kind of smile that seems to take up his whole body with how buoyant it makes him. ] Yeah, you're right. I probably wouldn't. [ He claps a hand to Dick's bicep, still smirking. ] But you're a pal. You'd hate for me to get reprimanded.
You know they do things other than Spaghetti, right? [ Nix could probably put away a whole pizza by himself, with how he's feeling right now. ] If it's not your thing I'm sure there's some other place around town. I could ask a few of the fellas?
(The shit-eating grin is when you know you're in trouble, although he always feels like he's in some sort of trouble when they're together. He's a terrible influence, Dick's not sure why he sticks around him, honestly.) I know you well. (He reaches up then to take Nix's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before pushing it off him, linger longer than necessary with it in his hand, although hopefully to most it wouldn't be obvious.) Only because you'd sulk about it and I'd have to listen.
You don't say? (Dick gives him a playful eye roll. He doesn't think anyone in Easy could stomach spaghetti any time soon.) No, no, that's fine. All I want is ice cream after. I heard they don't have that in England, if we end up there.
Ice-cream. [ Nix knows far too well that Dick has a sweet tooth. It was one of the first things they'd talked about, when he'd cornered him and outright suggested that he wouldn't think Dick was human unless he had a craving for something. ]
You can have all the ice-cream you want, Winters. Sprinkles too, if they have them. [ Part of him knows not to flash his cash around Dick. It always makes him look discomforted. But the rest of him just wants to be able to treat his friend for once. And he doubts dinner and desert could really get him worked up. ]
(That had been a funny confrontation, and one of his favourite to date. He knew that there was talk across the camp about the fact that he didn't drink, smoke or chase skirts. It was all harmless, even then he had somehow garnered a decent amount of respect that he wasn't quite sure he deserved considering how little he had done, but he appreciated nonetheless. He'd been asked if he had anything, and honestly, all there was was ice-cream. It was something he craved, desired, and considered himself something of an ice cream snob, even, though in desperate times he would take whatever he could get. They had laughed and said it didn't count as a vice, but it was the only one for him.)
It doesn't need sprinkles. Maybe a nice, thick hot fudge, that's always good, but I'm just as happy with a scoop of pure vanilla as I am some crazy sundae. (The thought makes him smile fondly, as if he already has the first spoon of it on his tongue, and he's feeling more eager now about the dinner.)
We'll have pizza, then. Pizza and ice cream. I think it's called gelato in Italy, I read that somewhere. Maybe if we jump into Italy we can get some there, too.
[ Dick is an absolute sweetheart. Nix can't help the new fondness to his smile. ] Hey, we can't have you going off to war with just a scoop of vanilla to your name. [ Humming a little. ] I gotta say, I wouldn't say no to a coke float.
[ There's a spring in his step as he moves to where the showers are kept and he holds the door open with a grin. ] Let's hurry. I'm starving now.
But if it's the last thing I eat before we drop, I'll be a happy man, ready for war. (Of course, he doesn't know how much truth is in his words right now.) Oh, I haven't had one of those in too long. Maybe we should get those too.
(Dick ducks in then, pulling his t-shirt off quickly then as he went to the cubby he had secured himself earlier to get out his soap, and get out of the rest of his gear so he can head into the showers.) I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying. If you starve I'll make sure they serve pizza at your funeral.
[ He grins a little at Dick, pleased at how much he seems to be getting in to the idea of their dinner-date. His own clothes get dumped with less of a kindness, his thoughts firmly on getting in and out of the shower.
Nix takes the spot next to Dick without thinking about it, soaping up with a hum of song under his breath. ] You better. Cake too. I'll put the ice-cream into my will.
(Is it a date? Dick's not really sure how it works with them. They've hd a fumble here and there, but he's not sure what it all has meant, other than desperation in times of war, even if they weren't at war yet. It was an itch to scratch that couldn't be scratched by others.
He's used to taking quick showers, at least, lathering up from head to toe with the same bar, his hair, too.)
What kind of cake do you want? Is there some upper class one that's your favourite I've never even heard of?
[ Can't a dude just ask another dude out for pizza and ice-cream???? ]
I like chocolate. [ It's delivered so dryly, his elbow obscuring the crookedness of his smile as he rinses out his hair. ] I don't want any of that other crap clogging up your throat during your speech, you hear me?
[ Nix's tone is sly, playful. He doesn't really see himself as truly mortal, at least not yet. Even though they're going off to war and many of them won't come back, it just hasn't sunk in. ]
Though remind me to tell you about my tenth birthday party some day. My mother served canapés.
(Of course a dude can, but it just takes it to a whole new level when one dude is in love with the other dude. Which dude is which, that is the real question.)
Chocolate, then. With chocolate frosting? I'll make sure they slather it on real thick. (A soft snort is followed with a sigh as he stands under the water. It's hot, surprisingly, and no matter how good it feels, it makes him all too aware of muscles that are tired and aching. It helps, a bit, at least, and he shifts to crack his shoulder before turning it off. Might as well save some of the hot water for the others in the company. It's the polite thing to do.) I have to write a speech? You're so high maintenance.
(He grabs his towel then and wraps it around his hips after quickly giving himself a once over with it, stepping out and heading back to the changing area.)
[ Is it worse when both of the dudes are in love with each other and neither of them know? ]
Definitely chocolate frosting. [ He finishes up first. Usually Nix would be a fan of long and incredibly warm showers, but they have plans and it's not like he's going to stay under the spray when he gets time with Dick. ] You have to write a speech. Tell everyone how great a guy I was. Otherwise it'll just be dull, boring, old men in suits talking about how it's a shame for the family.
[ By the time Dick steps out, Nix already has a towel wrapped around his waist and is using another one to dry his hair. ] Tiny, gross little pastry things. Posh people food that's probably not actually food.
(Yes. Yes that definitely makes it worse. Probably, it's where they are, at least.)
I'll write that down in my diary tonight. (Not that he wants to think too hard on all of this, at least not in a serious fashion. Right now, the war, and the death that came with it, was at least still something distant. He doesn't want to have to think in honest about delivering Nix's eulogy. That'd break his heart.) Chocolate frosting, and the beginning of your eulogy. I'll invite all of Easy. Maybe Sobel will come and make everyone run Currahee as punishment. I think dying is an infraction that'll make us all lose our weekend pass for the rest of the war.
(Dick arches a brow slightly towards the other as he begins to change, pulling on boxers and then his service uniform, pleated perfectly as always, lest they give Sobel something to pick on, and it doesn't take long for him to be ready to go.) Sounds like a terrible thing to serve at a kids birthday party. (He frowns for a moment.) I think we had sandwiches at mine. Mom used cookie cutters to cut them into shapes.
[ Nix's snort of laughter is almost a choke of it, his face obscured still by the towel. ] He'll probably make you guys carry the coffin at the same time. It's a good thing the food on base is still shit, I probably lost a few pounds.
[ He moves to get dressed too, his own uniform probably less perfect than Dick's. But that's how they usually are. ] You mean like stars and hearts? [ It's clear from his tone he's never even been to a party like that. ] Triangles, Dick. That's how you take sandwiches. In tiny triangles.
[ Lacing his boots he glances over. ] Sounds nice though. What else did you do at these parties of yours?
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Lew can give as good as he takes. He's just so glad he doesn't have to be careful. ]
Oh, you don't? [ His eyebrows lift towards his hair line as he falls in beside Dick to the path where the barracks are. He could do with a shower and clean clothes if he's going to do nothing more today. ] It's just so you can watch Sobel go dead behind the eyes, I'm on to you. Like I said, mean streak.
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He snorts out a breath of laughter, shrugging his shoulders.)
It gets repetitive after you've done it a few thousand times, which we all have by now, I reckon. It'd be nice if they spiced it up once in a while. (Dick gives him an innocent sort of look then, and if he'd had pockets his hands woul dbe in them.) But mostly it's that. Come on, Lew, you can't say you don't enjoy it.
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Utterly deadpan. ] I don't enjoy it.
[ He grins a little, tongue between his teeth for a second before he hums, glancing back out to the training fields. ] Okay, maybe I do a little. It's nice to actually do something useful. But Christ Almighty I don't think a human body was meant to move quite as much.
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Hah.
(Dick rolls his eyes at him, and then but when he catches his eye and the grin, he can't stop his own from breaking across his face. It's been a good day, after all. He hasn't been scolded yet, he has the day off since he spent the night patrolling, and so how could he complain about anything? And now his best friend is here at his side, and for some reason it's like the sun shines warmer on his skin, and brightens it all a little further. He snorts out a soft breath of laughter.) It's just working out all the stiffness built up from years bent over a desk and nothing else. Eventually you'll get loose.
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You seem to have a higher opinion of me that my actual headmaster. Maybe when we win this thing I'll take you to see the old miser. It would make him crazy him to see someone as dedicated as you hanging out with a slacker like me. [ His grin widens for a moment, the insinuation on the word slacker doing nothing to confirm nor deny whether he was or not. Maybe people just saw him that way. Natural cleverness was always easily overlooked. ]
So, got anywhere you want to go? Or shall we go exploring? See what we can drum up in the town.
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Did your headmaster actually like you? You always have the impression that you were something of a hellion. (Dick raises an eyebrow slightly at him, his lips quirking again.) Alright, when we win this, we'll go visit him, and I'll tell him all about how I followed you around Europe, and that I wouldn't know what to do without you. (Dick gives him a gentle, playful shove.) His jaw will drop.
No plans. (He shrugs his shoulders.) I was going to shower, see what's for supper in the mess, and then maybe go for a run, but if you have any other suggestions, I'm open to them.
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Oh, he hated me. He just couldn't say or do anything about it because the bankroll was more important. [ There's just the vaguest edge of bitterness to his voice, there and then gone when he looks at Dick. ] Yeah. [ He smiles this time, a rare and honest kind, without the usual mocking edge. He's lucky, to have someone like him on his side. ]
Seriously, running? You just did an obstacle course, Winters!
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(But it is a funny picture, it's not like he hasn't smuggled alcohol for Nix already. No one ever suspected him, after all. Everyone knew he didn't drink, so no one ever suspected him to have it on him, even with his best friend considered. They just didn't think he would do something like that, plain and simple. He was just the nice guy from Lancaster with questionable religious upbringings.)
Of course. (The bitterness earns him a gentle little bump, to pull him back into the present.) Sure is good money doesn't have anything to say for me then, huh? (And he smiles in return, just as honest.) I can't wait.
(Dick shrugs.) Three miles up, three miles down.
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He gets bumped and it does it's trick, his bad thoughts ushered away like bats from a light. ]
No running. We're going out. I'll buy you dinner, how's about it?
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It's his face, his serious nature, the fact that he has yet to break a rule (and be found out), and is always the one to lead the way. They just see the perfect soldier, which, in part is what he wants to be, at least now that he's trapped in a war. Why give them any other ideas?)
That. (Normally Dick would try to say no, or try to convince Nix to let him pay his own way, he could afford it and all, but tonight:) Where should we go? I'm in the mood for anything.
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[ His dumb serious face is the first thing that Nix started to get stuck on. He couldn't resist a man like Dick, a ginger angel with the humour of the devil. Part of him is incredibly glad that he was chosen and not someone else. It gives him a sense of bonding.
When Dick doesn't argue ( he always argues ), Nix's smile goes wide and utterly pleased. ] There's a nice pizza place a couple of block's over. Heard some of the guys talk about it. [ And it's not too fancy, which has to help. ]
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(His face stays serious, impassive, but the quirked eyebrow gives away that he's quite amused. Someone who didn't know him well might think that he was being condescending, but by now most of the men knew him well enough to where none of them would react to his comments. They know that he's quiet, yes, but when he talks, it's because he has something worth saying.
His lips twitch a bit at the smile on Nix's face, he likes seeing him smile like that, he can never avoid smiling when he does.) Is that the place that Perconte and Guarnere were talking about the other day? The place almost like Mom's? (He remembers hearing something about an italian restaurant that had pizza like the homeland, as they put it.) That sounded good, even if I don't think I could do with spaghetti.
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You know they do things other than Spaghetti, right? [ Nix could probably put away a whole pizza by himself, with how he's feeling right now. ] If it's not your thing I'm sure there's some other place around town. I could ask a few of the fellas?
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You don't say? (Dick gives him a playful eye roll. He doesn't think anyone in Easy could stomach spaghetti any time soon.) No, no, that's fine. All I want is ice cream after. I heard they don't have that in England, if we end up there.
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You can have all the ice-cream you want, Winters. Sprinkles too, if they have them. [ Part of him knows not to flash his cash around Dick. It always makes him look discomforted. But the rest of him just wants to be able to treat his friend for once. And he doubts dinner and desert could really get him worked up. ]
I'm thinking pizza. I miss pepperoni.
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It doesn't need sprinkles. Maybe a nice, thick hot fudge, that's always good, but I'm just as happy with a scoop of pure vanilla as I am some crazy sundae. (The thought makes him smile fondly, as if he already has the first spoon of it on his tongue, and he's feeling more eager now about the dinner.)
We'll have pizza, then. Pizza and ice cream. I think it's called gelato in Italy, I read that somewhere. Maybe if we jump into Italy we can get some there, too.
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[ There's a spring in his step as he moves to where the showers are kept and he holds the door open with a grin. ] Let's hurry. I'm starving now.
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(Dick ducks in then, pulling his t-shirt off quickly then as he went to the cubby he had secured himself earlier to get out his soap, and get out of the rest of his gear so he can head into the showers.) I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying. If you starve I'll make sure they serve pizza at your funeral.
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Nix takes the spot next to Dick without thinking about it, soaping up with a hum of song under his breath. ] You better. Cake too. I'll put the ice-cream into my will.
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He's used to taking quick showers, at least, lathering up from head to toe with the same bar, his hair, too.)
What kind of cake do you want? Is there some upper class one that's your favourite I've never even heard of?
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I like chocolate. [ It's delivered so dryly, his elbow obscuring the crookedness of his smile as he rinses out his hair. ] I don't want any of that other crap clogging up your throat during your speech, you hear me?
[ Nix's tone is sly, playful. He doesn't really see himself as truly mortal, at least not yet. Even though they're going off to war and many of them won't come back, it just hasn't sunk in. ]
Though remind me to tell you about my tenth birthday party some day. My mother served canapés.
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Chocolate, then. With chocolate frosting? I'll make sure they slather it on real thick. (A soft snort is followed with a sigh as he stands under the water. It's hot, surprisingly, and no matter how good it feels, it makes him all too aware of muscles that are tired and aching. It helps, a bit, at least, and he shifts to crack his shoulder before turning it off. Might as well save some of the hot water for the others in the company. It's the polite thing to do.) I have to write a speech? You're so high maintenance.
(He grabs his towel then and wraps it around his hips after quickly giving himself a once over with it, stepping out and heading back to the changing area.)
What's canapés?
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Definitely chocolate frosting. [ He finishes up first. Usually Nix would be a fan of long and incredibly warm showers, but they have plans and it's not like he's going to stay under the spray when he gets time with Dick. ] You have to write a speech. Tell everyone how great a guy I was. Otherwise it'll just be dull, boring, old men in suits talking about how it's a shame for the family.
[ By the time Dick steps out, Nix already has a towel wrapped around his waist and is using another one to dry his hair. ] Tiny, gross little pastry things. Posh people food that's probably not actually food.
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I'll write that down in my diary tonight. (Not that he wants to think too hard on all of this, at least not in a serious fashion. Right now, the war, and the death that came with it, was at least still something distant. He doesn't want to have to think in honest about delivering Nix's eulogy. That'd break his heart.) Chocolate frosting, and the beginning of your eulogy. I'll invite all of Easy. Maybe Sobel will come and make everyone run Currahee as punishment. I think dying is an infraction that'll make us all lose our weekend pass for the rest of the war.
(Dick arches a brow slightly towards the other as he begins to change, pulling on boxers and then his service uniform, pleated perfectly as always, lest they give Sobel something to pick on, and it doesn't take long for him to be ready to go.) Sounds like a terrible thing to serve at a kids birthday party. (He frowns for a moment.) I think we had sandwiches at mine. Mom used cookie cutters to cut them into shapes.
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[ He moves to get dressed too, his own uniform probably less perfect than Dick's. But that's how they usually are. ] You mean like stars and hearts? [ It's clear from his tone he's never even been to a party like that. ] Triangles, Dick. That's how you take sandwiches. In tiny triangles.
[ Lacing his boots he glances over. ] Sounds nice though. What else did you do at these parties of yours?
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