InsaneJournal

Who: Neil and Sam
What: A date. (2/2)
Where: The Grill.
When: Reeecently.
Warnings/Rating: None.

“I haven’t done relationships in years. That doesn’t mean I don’t do them at all,” he said, without thinking. And then he realized that he was probably confusing the hell out of her, so he tried to backtrack, tried to sort out what was going on in his head and verbalize it in a way that made sense. “Look, Chloe kind of fucked up the whole monogamous relationship thing for me. After that, I didn’t let myself get invested. I was in relationships, yeah, but-- it was just a word, you know? I didn’t care enough for it to be an actual relationship. They didn’t mean anything. And then I just got tired of pretending, so I stopped. But if I was with someone I cared about, if I let myself care, I wouldn’t fuck anyone else, and I wouldn’t want them to either,” he explained. Yeah, Neil had known about Daniel, but they’d never labelled themselves. Technically, if they weren’t actually in a relationship, so it wasn’t cheating, right? At least, that was how he rationalized it to himself. Chloe was there, and he could’ve been with her if he’d wanted to, but he hadn’t. That was the long and short of it; he just didn’t want to. “It’s been a long, long time since I cared that much,” he said, after a pause. “But we never had labels. We weren’t like that. We talked about it, that one time, and I was okay with, you know, whatever you wanted to... with what we decided.” Hell if he could remember what that was now. He shook his head when he described her marriage, frowning slightly. “See, that’s not a relationship. It’s not even a proper marriage. It’s not-- it’s not about dominance or control. I’m no expert, but I do know that much,” he said. Frankly, she was better off far away from him.

Petty theft and possession of pot certainly weren’t murder charges, or drug trafficking, which he thought were probably two of the more serious offences. “So, minor stuff,” he said, trying to inject some humor into the topic. “I never would’ve had you arrested. You’re not a criminal.” He shrugged, because it was true. He just didn’t see her that way. Eighteen was young, though, and it sounded like Joey had all but grown up in prison, which must have been rough. Again, he wondered what he’d done to earn himself a fifteen year sentence, but he didn’t ask. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “You think he’ll be okay?”

The fact that she didn’t jerk back from his touch made him stand just a little straighter, barely even noticeable, as they were led to their table. He was used to being treated like this; people fell over themselves when it came to money, he’d learned that a long time ago. He was about to ask what she was thinking of ordering, reaching for his own menu, when he felt her tap his leg with her foot, and looked up in surprise. Then she did it again, and all that surprise melted away, replaced by a grin that was nothing short of pleased. “You can order whatever you want,” he said, a second later, nudging her foot with his as he spoke. “I trust you not to drain me dry,” he added, teasing.

The whole general terminology thing was confusing, and she almost asked him to talk about them, specifically, because fuck if she could tell if they were a not relationship or a yeah relationship, or some weird fucking thing in the middle. But then he mentioned Chloe, and she shut right the fuck up, mouth closing in favor of listening. Ok, yeah, that explanation made sense. It didn't say anything about them, but she could get it, could understand it. "You haven't cared that much since Chloe," she said, looking for some kind of fucking clarity. But at least she had some kind of guideline now. If he gave a shit about someone, he didn't want to share. Ok, that made sense; she felt the same fucking way. It didn't make her feel any better about whatever they had going on, but maybe it gave her something to measure it against. He never minded her screwing around, yeah? So maybe that was an answer, if she wasn't too chickenshit to look at it as one. "Yeah, you were cool with it," she added, echoing his assertion that he'd been ok with not being monogamous or whatever, and it sounded like she was trying to come to terms with that, even to her own ears. "He wasn't abusive or anything," she added of Al. "He was just old and Cuban." Because that explained everything to her mind.

She laughed when he said she wasn't a criminal. "Baby, any sane person would have called the cops on me months ago. I stole a lot of your fucking money for drugs." She gave him a smile that said she knew he wasn't going to turn her in. Kick her out on her ass, maybe, but not get her arrested. "And any sane person would have tried to convince you that I was after your fucking money," she added, her grin playful wide. Because, come the fuck on? They were night and day, and there wasn't any point pretending otherwise. She was pretty sure she'd be considered a gold-digger in his part of the world, and he would be considered ripe for the fucking picking in hers. He was kind, and anyone else from back home would have taken him for all he was fucking worth by now. The question about Joey made her smile dim some. "I don't know. I'll tell you once I see him. Thanks for letting me borrow the kitchen, baby."

When she'd first met him, the way people treated him had surprised the fuck out of her; not anymore. That surprise on his features when she kicked the inside of his leg was more interesting than the deference, and she laughed when he nudged back. Ok, so maybe kicking someone under the table was elementary school level flirting, but it was also safe, and she grabbed her menu when he said she wouldn't drain him dry. She slouched in her seat a second later, feet settling on the edge of his seat, between his thighs, and tapping casually as she looked for the most expensive thing on the menu. "What the fuck is an ossobuco?" she finally asked, looking up at him.

"I haven't cared that much since Chloe," he agreed, and normally, Neil would have left it there. But he realized, now, how bad that would sound, and he couldn't use poor word skills as an excuse anymore. "But then... well, there was you." Oh, so eloquent. He averted his gaze downward, trying to play off what he'd just said as casual with minimal success. When she said he'd been 'cool' with them not being monogamous, he shook his head first, and then looked up. "Not really," he shrugged, and hey, the confessions just kept coming; he was on a roll. Lin would be proud. "I just... I was cool with it because you were cool with it.” Which might have been poor justification, but it was true. He’d thought, maybe, he could be okay with it, but he was wrong; he hadn’t liked thinking about her with Daniel before, and he definitely didn’t like it when they were sort-of together, and that was an indication of caring in itself. As for her husband, he didn’t think being old and Cuban were excuses for anything, but he made a sort of noncommittal sound instead of saying as much.

He opened his mouth to protest, though he could see her point. His parents would hate her, he knew that much, and the people he’d grown up around would see her as nothing but a lying, stealing gold digger trying to take advantage of him. And maybe, if everything was laid out on paper, that was what it looked like, but it was wrong. Not that Neil wasn’t an easy target, because he was, but Sam could’ve taken him for all he had and split months ago; she hadn’t. It wasn’t like that. “I guess that means I’m not sane,” he teased. “Seriously, though, I wasn’t pissed you stole my money. Hell, I would’ve given it to you anyway. It’s what you used it for that I didn’t like.” Not to mention the fact that he’d been so damn blind to it the entire time, but he’d beaten himself up about that enough already. He hoped this Joey wasn’t going to bring a trail of trouble with him, but he hoped that, maybe, he was ready to leave prison behind him and start fresh in the real world. “Don’t mention it,” he said of the kitchen. “And if there’s anything else I can do to help, just let me know.”

Laughter was good, right? He figured as much. The weight of her feet on his chair, and their proximity, was very much felt, but he didn’t mind it. Her question made him laugh, and he gave an honest shrug. “No idea,” he admitted. “I usually just pick something that sounds cool and hope for the best.”

She didn't expect him to add anything on to his statement about Chloe. Sure, she hadn't heard anything about the other woman lately, but that didn't really mean anything. She was pretty sure everyone thought she was a ticking timebomb, and that she'd totally blow if anyone even mentioned Chloe. So, yeah, not hearing anything? Not really a big surprise. She was so sure that there wasn't anything more to his statement that she actually stared when he kept talking a second later. No, it wasn't fucking eloquent, but eloquence wasn't truth, and she didn't need eloquence. She would have poked, prodded, asked for fucking clarification, but the way he averted his gaze stopped her, and he shook his head and looked up while she was still finding the right words. "You said it was cool," she added, more confusion and surprise in her voice than anything else. "I thought you wanted," What? "Fuck, I don't even know what I thought you wanted," she admitted with a nervous laugh. She tugged at the hems of her sleeves, stretching the blue fabric almost to her fingertips. "Yeah, I don't- I mean, I don't actually get off on people touching me anymore, and-" She shrugged. For all that she wanted honesty from him, she seriously sucked at it herself. "It was only twice with Daniel, and once with Tristan, and those were both before we fucked. The same month, but, yeah, nothing since." She blushed. "I suck at this."

She was glad he didn't argue about his folks. She liked truth better than pretty, made-up shit. They were from completely different worlds, and if this shit didn't crash and burn, well, it would be an issue eventually. There wasn't any way around that. When he said he wasn't sane, she grinned, and then she laughed. "Yeah, well, I could have told you that." She leaned against the table a second later. "Baby, don't ever tell anyone like me that you don't mind losing money." But there was something somber in the warning, and something even more somber in her reaction to his admission of not liking what she'd used the money for. "Yeah," she regarded him, serious and straight, and she tugged at the corners of the menu. "So, I have like two months left on my court mandated bullshit, and I had these awesome doctors at the private place Daniel was paying for," she said. "But now I've got these public assistance doctors, and they seriously suck. One's threatening to have me remanded back to jail if I don't take the shit he's prescribing, but I'm better off without the pills. My good shrink didn't give me anything, because it's completely fucking gateway for me." It was more than she would have confessed to anyone else, and she didn't linger on the problem. Instead, she kicked at the seat of his chair, where her feet were propped. "And how am I supposed to pick something, when your rich ass can't even tell me what the things are?" she asked, her smile filtering back just slightly, as if testing the waters.

“Yeah, I said it was cool,” he admitted, because there was no use in trying to deny that. “But I said that to... I don’t know, to keep you around, not because I wanted to keep my options open or something like that.” Yeah, there was Chloe, but the more Neil thought about it, the more he realized that ship had sailed. College romance didn’t mean it would have turned out to be something long-term, but either way, there was no point in dwelling on the past. Chloe had moved on and left him behind, and now, he’d moved on too. He tried not to think about that twice with Daniel, tried really fucking hard, and he reminded himself of what Lin had said, that they weren’t like that. “I haven’t with anyone, you know, since we... since us.” He shrugged, no better at this than she was, especially in a public restaurant. “Not that-- you can be with whoever you want to be with, I’m just saying, it’s not-- I don’t need freedom or anything.” Oh, hell, he was butchering this.

He tipped his head to the side, because despite her tendency to take his money without asking, he didn’t see it being done in a malicious way, like some sort of scam artist. “You’re different,” he said. “You won’t take me for all I have and disappear.” It was said with the utmost certainty in his belief that she wouldn’t, even if others would. But then she was mentioning Daniel again, and he couldn’t remember her telling him about the guy paying for anything, and he tried to recall if she had while still listening to what she was saying. “Daniel was paying for?” He echoed her words because he didn’t know how else to ask, and he wasn’t sure if he should be jealous, or guilty, or both. “So get new doctors,” he said, realizing too late he’d made that sound far more simple than it actually was, and hastily tried to backtrack. “I mean-- I can help you find new doctors. Better ones. None of these assholes who can’t do their damn jobs right.” He’d been too busy wallowing in booze and self-pity before, but not anymore. He was here now, and he wasn’t going anywhere. “My rich ass pays for it,” he teased. “That doesn’t mean I have to know what it is. That’s what waiters are for. You don’t know what fun is until you’ve been to a restaurant where nothing on the menu is in English, and made the poor waiter-slash-waitress translate every single item.”

All she heard was that he wanted to keep her around. She was still young enough, and there was still enough hopefulness in her somewhere, that the entire fucking world stopped when he said that. It was stupid, yeah, and she wouldn't fucking admit to it, but she was pretty fucking sure her heart was beating twice as fast as it had been a few seconds before. "Do you want your options open now?" she asked. "After shit went bad?" she asked, because she'd never been able to tell if he was actually interested in her sexually or whatever. "I mean, I was always the one coming on to you," she admitted, because she still felt guilty about that shit. It was kind of like she'd steamrolled him into whatever their relationship was, and she still felt bad about that. He was the kind of man who avoided conflict, and she was absolutely fucking sure that she'd cornered him into hooking up with her, at least those first few times. When he said he hadn't been with anyone, she grinned, her feet tapping against the insides of his knees. "You haven't been with anyone because you haven't wanted to be? Or because it's too much work?" she teased, but then she looked down at the menu again, because it was easier to be honest with the list of appetizers in her line of vision. "Yeah, I don't actually want anyone else."

She looked up when he said she was different, fondness creeping into her features. "You're going to get taken for every fucking penny one of these days, and then I'll have to kick someone's ass," she admitted. But he was right; she wasn't going to take anything from him and disappear. She didn't mind taking his money, which was obvious. She had no fucking problem with charity, and her addiction made her dangerous, but she wouldn't bail on him. He could lose every fucking penny, and she wouldn't give a shit. "Yeah, when I got out of the hospital," she said, a hand straying to her wrist, "I asked him to pay for the place I was at, where you came to visit," she explained. "My doctors there do regular appointments, but they don't take the shitty insurance at the garage." As for the menu, that got another glance, and she laughed when he said he didn't need to know what shit was. "Is it just because you're not fucking American? Or did you like fail manners school or something? Isn't that a rich British people thing?" she asked, not really knowing where Scotland actually was geographically. She was saved from saying some other stupid thing by the waitress, and she ended up ordering a burger and fries, along with a coke, because fuck experimenting. Food at the garage was vending machines; a good burger sounded like fucking heaven.

There was no denying that she’d been the one to push in their relationship, though that had more to do with Neil’s general reluctance to get too close to someone instead of a lack of attraction. Now, they’d progressed to the point where worrying about caring was useless, since he did, and he hadn’t exactly tried to hide it. “No,” he said, when she asked if he wanted to keep his options open. “I don’t want to, and I don’t need to. I know-- I mean, I want you. I don’t want you thinking I don’t.” Up until now, it seemed like she did, no matter what he said to attempt to convince her otherwise. He laughed when she asked if being with someone else was too much work, an honest sound, unlike the feigned laughter he’d learned to perfect. “Because I haven’t wanted to be,” he said, and he would have asked her the same question, but then she said she didn’t want anyone else either, and he grinned. Yeah, that felt really good to hear.

He might have been careless with his money around her, but he wasn’t like that with everyone. His folks had taught him a thing or two worth knowing. “I don’t go around throwing my money at people and leaving myself wide open, you know,” he told her, mock insulted. He wasn’t sure what to make of her asking Daniel to pay for her place to stay, or of him actually doing it, but it wasn’t like he could do much about it now. It was done and over with; he hadn’t been there. Plain and simple. “Oh.” He shrugged it off and moved onto the issue of her insurance. “Like I said, I can pay. You should be able to have whatever you need, Sam. Doctors, support systems, whatever.” The mention of manners school made him raise his eyebrows, and he gasped in feigned offense when she asked if it was a ‘rich British people thing’. “I’m not British, actually, and I totally skipped out on that etiquette school bullshit,” he informed her. What she chose, in the end, was simple, but so very her, and he went for pizza himself. Not very sophisticated, but places like this made pretty good pizza; it was definitely nothing like takeout.

"Yeah?" she asked, when he said he was into her. "I'm used to guys that are into me being really fucking obnoxious about it, baby. You're like super fucking subtle or something." Which was almost a confession or something. "I sort of assumed that I had to get you fucked up to want me," she said, and it was the kind of statement that didn't sound like she was fishing for a compliment. She knew some guys were into her, and she knew some weren't, and the same went for girls. She didn't take it personally either way, though not being wanted by someone she was into had made her more than a little fucked up. "I so took advantage of your ass," she admitted unapologetically. Because, yeah, she realized they so wouldn't be here at all if she hadn't pushed him. She had a hard time imagining him pursuing someone, because he was so fucking laid back, but she could totally see him being into someone like he was into Chloe. She just didn't think what he felt for her compared. "I keep assuming all kinds of shit about what you feel or don't feel," she confessed.

"I can't imagine you throwing money at anyone, baby. But I wouldn't mind seeing you try to pull that shit off," she said with a grin. "I don't know, I'd miss the quiet fucker I've gotten used to, though," she admitted. Sure, he wasn't grabby and handsy and obvious. But she liked that about him. That was the bottom line, yeah? He was different. Fucking impossible to read, but different. "I won't be able to you pay you back," she said truthfully, because there was no point pretending. Her job barely covered the shitty generic meds (that she was tossing as soon as she got them) or the physical therapy she was paying out of pocket. Even an apartment was a challenge just then, and there was no way she'd be able to save up to pay him back. "Scottish. Same shit, isn't it?" she asked of his nationality. The feigned offense made her laugh, and she waited for the waitress to put their food down a few seconds later, before hitting him with her comeback. "You should send me to etiquette training. Maybe they can teach me how to be proper," she said, her thick Jersey accent making proper sound anything but. "You would be totally fucking into it. Admit it," she teased, popping a french fry into her mouth.

“I don’t really do obnoxious,” Neil said, plain and simple. “I guess I’m just... not good at the whole being obvious thing. Subtle is a good word for it. You’ve never had to get me fucked up, though. I’ve wanted you for a while, but admitting it wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t always sure you wanted me. Not more than you wanted Daniel, or someone else.” He didn’t want to bring up Daniel, but he was the only comparison he could think of. Clearly she’d wanted him too, twice, but she wasn’t interested in him beyond that, and Neil had spent a lot of time assuming he fell into a similar category. “You didn’t take advantage of me,” he protested, and when she said she kept assuming what he did feel, or what he didn’t feel, he went quiet for a moment. Thoughtful, even. “Why don’t you ask me how I feel, then?” It was a loaded question, and he knew they weren’t good at being direct, but beating around the bush hadn’t done them much good either.

He shook his head, because him tossing around money would just be sad. Some could do it with flair; he could spend it on things without blinking, but being so careless with it, well, he’d never gone quite that far. “It would just be pathetic, trust me,” he told her, and grinned a moment later. “You don’t mind me being a quiet fucker?” It was a teasing question, not asked seriously, and he just shrugged when she said she couldn’t pay him back. In this case, he didn’t mind using his money to help without getting it back in the end. No huge loss. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to pay me back anyway,” he said simply. He didn’t see it as charity or anything like that, because he wanted to pay, and he wanted to help. “Scottish and British are not the same,” he informed her with mock superiority, just as the waitress arrived, and he waited until their food was set down and she was gone to raise his eyebrows at the suggestion of etiquette training. “I’d only be into it because of the uniforms,” he said after a moment of feigned thought, managing to refrain from laughing.

"No, you wait around for women to hit on you," she said knowingly, the inky blue gaze that regarded him then more than a little fucking appreciative. Yeah, ok, so there was definitely something to be said for being the kind of fucker who just leaned back against the bar and waited for someone to come to him. It was a pain in her ass, but it was fucking attractive. She pulled a face when he said he wasn't sure she wanted him more than she wanted Daniel, almost choking on a french fry in her incredulity. "You're fucking kidding?" she asked, shaking her head almost immediately after. "Did you ever have any good friends that you fucked? Totally not interested in them, but they put out, so yeah. They're better than using your hand, but that's about it? That's Daniel." It wasn't a very nice description of her relationship with the recluse, but, yeah. She couldn't be less interested. "He's so fucked up he doesn't even remember what we talk about anymore. I worry about Lin." There was guilt in that admission. She'd dragged Lin to Daniel's apartment for her own selfish reasons, and now she was worried.

She ignored the question about asking him how he felt at first. She smiled instead, crooked and gapped and young. "I like making you not be fucking quiet," she added, her smile saying that, no, she didn't mind. Getting him to talk was a challenge, and getting him to make a move was even more of a challenge, but there was nothing to compare to the feeling when she succeeded. She accepted his offer of money with a nod. "You can call them. I don't want access to your card," she said, because she'd load up if she had that, and she knew it; the temptation would just be too fucking much. "And, baby, you so hooked up with the wrong girl if you have schoolgirl fantasies," she teased.

And then, after taking a few more bites of her burger, she slid her feet to the ground and pushed her chair back. "I'll be outside," she told him, giving him a grin that was all kinds of fucking trouble. He could pay the bill or whatever. She pushed through the crowd at the entrance of the restaurant, and she waited just outside, where the casino lights blinked gave everything a hedonistic glow. Her back was to the wall, and she reached out a hand and grabbed his sleeve, once he came into view. She didn't yank him close or anything, but she didn't let go right away, either. "Yeah, so, tell me how you feel."

Neil had never really thought of himself as the kind of guy who just sat back and waited for women to come to him, but the more he considered it, the more he realized that sounded about right. It was so much easier, with less of a chance of rejection and hurt; it was his choice, and he was in control. It wasn’t about being socially awkward or incompetent around women; it was just low risk, and low risk was good. “That used to be my thing,” he admitted. “You caught me.” He figured it worked well for some men, not so well for others, but it depended entirely on the woman, and Sam didn’t sound like she minded too much. She must have liked something about him, or she wouldn’t have stuck around for as long as she had, or pushed half as hard as she did. He listened to her explanation of what things were like with Daniel, and gaze her a quizzical look. “Friends with benefits? That’s what he is?” Yeah, he could understand that. It didn’t make him like Daniel any more, but he got it. “Does Lin have a, you know, an actual thing for him? He knows his shit. Seems like he’ll be okay.” But then again, a lot of people were better at giving advice than they were at taking it.

“You like it, huh?” He grinned around a bite of his pizza, and it was nice, really, to not have someone tell him everything that was wrong with himself, everything he had to change. There was understanding in his expression when she told them to call the doctors, and he nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “And I don’t have schoolgirl fantasies. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind the uniform.” He swallowed another bite of pizza, just as she pushed back and away from the table, and he tipped his head to the side, puzzled, as she said she’d be outside. He tried to ask what, but it was mumbled around the food in his mouth, and he just shook his head as she left the restaurant. Right. The bill was paid, and he told the waiter not to worry about the change before heading outside after her.

He began to ask her what, again, but then she was grabbing his sleeve and asking him to tell her how he felt. Oh, no, he really wasn’t good at this, but backing out now or shrugging it off wouldn’t go over well. Neil did realize that much. “How I feel,” he repeated, looking down at her with a long exhale. “This is going to be really cheesy, so don’t laugh,” he warned. “I know everyone says oh, hell, I’ve never met anyone like you before, but with you, it’s true. I like being around you. I hate not being around you. I like talking to you, and I like listening to you talk. It doesn't even matter what the hell you're saying. You might not think I want you, but I do. I think you're-- I think-- fuck, okay, I'm attracted to you, let's just say that," he said. "But it's more than that. I haven't felt the way I feel about you in a long, long time, Sam, since... you know." He didn't want to say Chloe's name, but he figured she'd get it.

"The shy chicks never hit on you, then," she said. "You missed out on an entire genre of pussy." She grinned, teasing. But, yeah, it was true, wasn't? It took a certain kind of woman to approach the hot guy that didn't seem interested in someone. It took someone who thought they were good enough to be the one to capture his attention. She'd been better at that before all the shit that had gone down the past year. Then, she'd had no qualms about asking him to take her out, even without ever having met him, and it had never occurred to her that he might not be into her. Now, if she met him online today? Shit might have gone down differently. There was still a kind of security in anonymity that made her more sure around the fuckers on the journals, but she wasn't sure she still had that confidence from the previous year. It was hard to be introspective, even with shrink journals that were supposed to aid in that very fucking thing. But he was asking about friends with benefits, and she had to think that through. "Nah, take a step back. Friends with benefits makes me think it's cool to fuck whenever. Daniel and I don't have that kind of friendship. He thinks I'm a kid," she explained with a shrug. She wasn't sure exactly how to explain that without it sounding twisted, but Daniel didn't think of her as being on any kind of equal footing. "But, yeah, Lin totally does." She chuckled. "Yeah, I thought Lin could take care of himself at first too. He talks a really good fucking game."

She almost told him to buy her a uniform, if he liked them so much. But that would have just been talking shit, seeing as she hadn't managed to let him touch her for more than half a second yet. Even the hand on his sleeve, when she grabbed him outside the door, was her holding onto him. It was safe. She smiled as soon as he said this was going to be cheesy though, because he wasn't any fucking Casanova; she knew that. She actually laughed when he said it didn't matter what the fuck she said, because how romantic was that? But it was a happy laugh, and her fingers loosened their death grip on his sleeve. And maybe you know, in reference to Chloe, wasn't exactly the kind of declaration that would work for someone else. But she knew how hard a time he had saying anything, and that counted for something. So what if he didn't say he loved her? It was like she told Seven: Not everyone had it in them to feel that way about someone. Maybe someone else would have turned away and told him to fuck off, attraction and like not being enough. But she took a deep breath and looked up at him instead. If she did this, then what he was offering was going to have to be enough, because she was done whimpering over it. "Yeah? So, kiss me," she said, her hands moving to hold onto his wrists, calloused fingers closing around them, so he didn't trap her.

Neil thought about the type of women he’d been with, and yeah, there weren’t many shy ones in the bunch. Chloe had been the exact opposite; persuasive, controlling, a force to be reckoned with. Most of his flings/girlfriends/etc hadn’t been on the same level as her, but they’d all been confident enough to be the one to approach him. And yet, in the end, he still hadn’t cared enough to keep any of them from leaving. His interest was a hard thing to keep, mostly because he so rarely gave it in the first place. After all this time, though, he was still interested in Sam, even if he hadn’t quite reached the point of being able to express his true feelings like she probably wanted him to. “Damn, I guess I did. My loss,” he joked, as though he actually cared. The last word he would use to describe her was shy, even if things had changed since they’d met; part of that was his fault, he knew. He thought he’d figured out whatever thing she had going with Daniel, but no, apparently not, and he lost whatever understanding he’d had. “He thinks you’re a kid?” He frowned, but then again, it didn’t really matter, not if she meant what she said about not wanting anyone else. “I guess I shouldn’t have trash-talked Daniel to him, then,” he shrugged, not that he really cared. “What, does Lin want more than Daniel wants or something?”

Her laughter was a good thing, he thought. Yeah, what he said wasn’t romantic, and it wasn’t exactly a confession of love, but for him, it was a huge step. Like he’d told Lin, it wasn’t that he didn’t love her, but he had no idea how to say it, and just the thought of it terrified him. Maybe one day, he’d figure out how to say the words when they were both sober, but for now, this was the most he could manage. He did worry that it might not be enough, that she’d want more, and he was waiting for something to go wrong, for him to mess up again, but she didn’t scream or cry or storm off in anger. Instead, she asked-- well, more like told him to kiss her, and Neil decided to take that as a good sign. “Okay,” he said, and he knew she might panic, knew she might react badly, but he’d never know if he didn’t go for it, right? He let her hold onto his wrists, and he didn’t try to touch her, or take the control she had; instead he leaned in and kissed her, chaste and restrained at first before very, very carefully becoming more heated, almost like a silent request of how far she wanted him to go.

Yeah, she couldn't even offer to pretend to be shy for him. Shy just wasn't her, and they both knew it. Even fucked up, even feeling all kinds of things for him that she'd never felt for anyone in her life, she couldn't do shy. She bottled until she couldn't deal anymore, and then shit went bad. It was a shitty cycle, and she knew it was a shitty cycle, but it was the kind of thing she didn't know how to break yet. Right now, she was just hoping that she didn't fall off the fucking wagon as hard as last time. One thing at a time, yeah? And, yeah, she had no idea what was going on in his head. She believed what he told her, that he was into her, and that he was attracted to her and liked her. Relationships started off like that, yeah? It would either be enough, or it wouldn't, but she would never know if she didn't give it a shot. She knew - because she wasn't an idiot - that most people wouldn't understand why she was still standing there. But most people didn't need to understand, right? And it's not like she couldn't back off and be cool about it. She'd done that shit for a year; she could do it again. The question about Daniel dragged her back to the moment, and she laughed a mirthless laugh. "Daniel is so fucked up, baby. I'm not sure what he can give." It was the simple, most direct response. Maybe it sounded a little like the man standing in front of her, but whatever, that didn't matter. What mattered was that he was agreeing to kiss her. Her fingers tightened, callous and too tight, on his wrists, testing the control she had without even fucking realizing it. She was trying to figure out whether to keep her eyes open, or whether to close them, when his lips first brushed hers, and she didn't even think before closing her eyes, in the end. Her pulse raced, and her breathing went shallow, and she had to remind herself that it wasn't Goblin. And, yeah, she opened her eyes in the end, and it helped. By the time the kiss turned more heated, she'd moved a little closer, no longer needing the foot of empty air between them. She leaned into him, her fingers still tight on his wrists, and she sighed as she opened her mouth slowly, testing.

Right at that moment, for the first time in a while, Neil didn’t feel like he wasn’t enough. Maybe it was stupidly blind of him, to not realize that she wanted more, but after everything that had happened and all the times he’d come close to ruining everything, he was trying really, really hard to get things right this time. Taking it slow, thinking before he acted, was the only way he knew how to do that. Oh, he still thought she deserved more, but it would take time for him to come close to the point where he thought he could actually give her that. “I know fucked up,” he admitted, after her comment about Daniel. “Lin needs to know what he’s getting into, for starters.” Neither of them were exactly normal, after all, and they both had their baggage; knowing that, and accepting it, was important.

He barely reacted to the tightening hold on his wrists, and it wasn’t like he minded anyway. There was so much riding on this is it was ridiculous, and he kept wondering if she was remembering Goblin, if that was going to ruin everything, but the fact that she didn’t pull away or push him back was encouraging. He shifted a little closer, just a step or so, in response to her own movement forward, but he still refrained from touching her. That didn’t stop him from deepening the kiss when she leaned into him, though, responding to the way she opened her mouth, perceiving it as encouragement.

If he'd asked, she would have told him that he was absolutely enough. There wasn't any guarantee of being majorly into someone. Fuck, she'd been with men and women and never been majorly into any of them. Maybe he'd get there, and maybe he wouldn't. She wasn't insecure enough to think it was her. Everyone wasn't into everyone else, and he didn't have to be crazy for her, just because she was crazy for him. And none of that fucking mattered right then anyway. Daniel didn't matter, and Lin didn't matter. And yeah, even Goblin didn't matter. When he shifted closer, she laughed into the kiss, a nervous fucking laugh that she couldn't help. "Yeah, ok," she said to herself, to him, whatever, that didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that she tugged his hands and rested them on her hips, over the cheap denim jeans. She held his wrists a few seconds longer, giving herself a chance to change her mind, and then she let go, left his hands there without her controlling them. Her hands rested low on his belly, fingers twisting in his shirt and using it for purchase. She tugged a little as she let her tongue tangle with his for just a few heated seconds, before pulling back and pressing her lips to his cheek. "Talk," she ordered, wanting to hear him say something completely fucking Neil, needing that.

Neil paused when she laughed, faintly quizzical, and he wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to him; maybe it didn’t matter. Laughter, nervous or not, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and while he wasn’t expecting her to tug on his hands, he didn’t fight her when she put them on her hips. He didn’t immediately take hold, not like he wanted to, opting to wait for her to fully decide before making a decision for her. Even when she let go, he was slow, cautious, the press of his fingers starting out light before the pressure in his touch tightened. It wasn’t enough to keep her still, or control her in any way; only enough to be felt, even through the fabric of her jeans. He moved even closer when she tugged on his shirt, and a groan caught in his throat when she pulled back-- but he let her go all the same. The order for him to talk earned a laugh, even if he didn’t actually have any idea what he was going to say. “So demanding,” he teased. “But I get it. Everyone loves the accent.”

She liked that groan, but she liked that laugh even more. She bowed her head, and she rested it against his chest for just a moment, letting herself get used to the simple feel of his hands on her hips, his body close enough that she could feel the warmth and breadth of him. Her fingers twisted his shirt, tugged, then twisted again. And, after a few minutes, she straightened and looked at him. Yeah, ok, this hadn't gone bad. She gave him a gap-toothed smile, one that was relieved and much, much more comfortable than her smile had been when the evening began. She pressed a kiss to his mouth, sloppy-chaste and quick, and then she let got of his shirt. "Thanks for dinner, baby," she said, almost laughing, because it wasn't like they'd actually finished their meal or anything. "Next time, I'll ask you out," she promised. And, yeah, ok, so next time was something, right? It wasn't an agreement to move back in yet, but it was something to work toward. She gave him a questioning look, one that asked if he wanted to see her again, a hopeful look, young and something that was just starting to trust again. "Yeah?" They hadn't figured everything out, but there was time for that shit, yeah? Her hand smoothed down his shirt, lingering over the fabric she'd wrinkled with her fingers.

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she rested her head against his chest, almost unable to believe that they’d actually managed to be together for longer than a couple of minutes without anything going wrong. When she smiled at him, Neil grinned back, tugging on her belt loops before letting go of her hips. “Yeah,” he said. “We should do it again sometime.” He laughed when she said she’d ask him out next time, and even though he still wasn’t sure about her living situation, he figured this was a step in the right direction. “I’ll hold you to that.” He paused for a moment before sliding his fingers into hers and tugging her towards the sidewalk. “C’mon. I’ll get us a cab back."