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Tweak says, "candy mouuuntaiiiiin"

whiskey_jack (whiskey_jack) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2010-11-24 15:52:00

Current music:	Young Dubliners, "Saints and Sinners"
Entry tags:	coyote, raven

Saints And Sinners
Who: Jack and Shae
What: Jack and Shae's Backdated Parking Lot Reunion!
Where: the parking lot of Pax Letale
When: October 7th, around 11am-ish
Warnings: WHO KNOWS WHAT DA HELL WILL HAPPEN WIT DESE TWO YATS
Notes: Backdated to just after Jack's encounter with Charlie and Dorcas, and likely to set the tone for future interactions between these boys XD

Sleep was just going to have to wait a little longer.

Peeling off his filthy clothes, Jack stepped into the shower and quickly scrubbed himself clean of the previous three days' adventures in chemical overindulgence. It wouldn't do to smell - or look, for that matter - like a drunken hobo when he finally met up with Shae again. Silently he cursed himself for missing his childhood friend's You. Me. Parking lot, now. message on the building forum yesterday. He wasn't sure if the text he sent as soon as he saw the message would get through - Shae's idea of cellphone technology was pretty bare-bones - or even if the number was still good; he'd only gotten the generic voicemail greeting when he followed up with a call. Still, he didn't want to wait for a reply.

Jesus. Shae. He knew Shae was in town; they'd spoken a couple months back, and Jack had told him about getting an apartment here, but he hadn't known if Shae'd stuck around or what. His thoughts drifted back to the last time he actually saw the man he considered his surrogate big brother. It'd been some years, for sure: Shae was working a construction job in West LA and sporting a buzz cut, and Jack was barely drinking age, still teenage-skinny and looking like a scruffy burned-out headbanger, just beginning to hit his stride on the local comedy circuit. He had to laugh; a lot had changed. He wondered if his old friend would even recognize him now.

Jack pulled on a clean pair of black jeans and a black shirt and pushed his still-damp hair off his face. No time to button his shirt, no need or care for shoes, though he did remember to zip his jeans closed. He left his apartment and hurried barefoot down the stairs, past the second floor (those two crazy chicks were likely still poking around in there). Reaching the lobby, he went out to the parking lot and looked around. "Shae!" he barked. "Where y'at!" He didn't give a shit if he woke anyone up with his loud New Orleans-ism; neither did he give a shit if anyone thought he was nuts for yelling in the parking lot at 11 in the morning. He was determined to keep yelling til Shae turned up. Where the hell is he? "Shae!"

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in_the_wings
2010-12-13 03:19 am UTC (link)

Shae muttered a few choice words in French as a rivulet of hot oil dripped down along his forearm and onto his cheek. Thankfully the thin, viscousy substance hadn't reached a scalding temperature, and he wiped it from his skin using the neck of his wifebeater. Ah, the joys of automotive maintenance.

Currently he was stretched out beneath the front end of his Firebird, changing the oil filter and trying not to end up with anymore face paint than was absolutely necessary. He'd been meaning to get around to this particular chore for a few weeks now, but if it wasn't one goddamn distraction, it was always another.

Cue the familiar voice shouting his name.

Shae set his socket wrench down gingerly, brow furrowing at the unexpected development. Carefully he rolled himself out from beneath the car's undercarriage and sat up, glancing around for the source of all the racket. His eyes landed on the barefoot, black-clad figure twenty yards away from him, and his breath hitched.

He was taller than Shae remembered. The voice was a little deeper, a little throatier, and though the other man's frame was still thin and lanky, he had the look of lean, corded muscle about him. He'd definitely grown up, although his face had remained mostly the same. Shae would know that face anywhere.

"Fuck me," he said under his breath, wiping his oil-stained hands against his jeans and struggling to his feet before waving an arm to catch the approaching man's attention. "Sonuvabitch, JACK!"

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whiskey_jack
2010-12-15 08:03 am UTC (link)

At the sound of his name, Jack whipped his head around, finally spotting the waving arm and the man it was attached to. He broke into a grin - yep, it was Shae all right. There was no mistaking that voice, or that face, even though the hair was a LOT longer now than it was the last time he saw him. That was okay, he'd always thought the buzz-cut looked stupid on Shae anyway.

Jack turned and trotted across the parking lot toward the other man, the asphalt pleasantly rough and warm against the bare soles of his feet. "Heya," he called. Slowing to a walk, he approached Shae, eyeing his old friend up and down. The near-decade since he'd seen Shae seemed to have treated him well. Which was a relief, given how wild and risk-loving both of them tended to be.

He stopped not far from the familiar Firebird. "Your message sounded like you wanted to see me." Jack spread his arms wide, wrestling his grin into a self-satisfied smirk. "Well, here I am."

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in_the_wings
2011-02-06 08:50 pm UTC (link)

....yup, he definitely had the right smug-looking bastard. No question about it.

With little regard for the oily residue smeared over his arms and wifebeater, Shae approached the younger man and pulled him into an exultant embrace. Had it really been so long since they'd last seen each other? The body pressed against him was hard and muscular, a far cry from the waifish brat he'd left back in L.A. And, now that he was close enough to notice the height difference-

"When da hell you git so tall?" he complained good-naturedly, pulling away from the other man and the comfortable pocket he'd discovered at the hollow of Jack's throat, just below eye-level for him. He glanced down as if to double-check that his friend wasn't somehow cheating by wearing elevated heels...then realized, as his gaze moved over his own loved-and-worn boots, nope, that would be him.

Shae shook his head in amusement as he stepped back, holding Jack at arms-length as he gave him an obvious once-over. "Hollehwood mus'a been good ta you, fuckin' hippie." He chuckled at the vaguely disparaging and entirely familiar term of endearment.

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whiskey_jack
2011-02-11 03:40 am UTC (link)

"Good enough, ya damn yat," Jack grinned back, the perjorative term for a New Orleans native delivered with equal familiarity and fondness. "Keeping busy, keeping out of trouble. Mostly." Which he knew was a statement Shae would be able to see right through.

Taking a step back, he could see Shae still had some of the meat he'd put on last time he'd seen him, but his old friend looked leaner now, snaky and quick. "Unlike you. Shit, son, you look like trouble personified."

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in_the_wings
2011-02-18 01:39 am UTC (link)

Shae's answering snort made very clear what he thought of that remark. Jack, keeping out of trouble? Nope, he wasn't buying that for a second. Trouble was practically part of his old friend's DNA...not that he really had room to talk.

Oh, and apparently Jack agreed with this.

Shae extended his pointer and thumb into a finger gun, aiming straight between Jack's eyes before taking a shot and recoiling his arm. "SOMEbody gotta take care' da duhty wohk. Can' all be big-shawt movie stahs. What you got lahn'd up nex'?"

Yes, Jack was looking very....very good.

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whiskey_jack
2011-03-04 02:16 am UTC (link)

"Ungh." Jack feigned the impact of Shae's imaginary bullet, eyes wide and staggering back a couple steps. That was all he could manage, though, before his grin disrupted the acting job. "Heh. You know I've got to have a ton of shit going on at once," he chuckled, "or I get bored. And we both know what happens when ol' Jack gets bored."

His grin turned smug. "But yyyyeah, I got a project or two in the works." He stretched nonchalantly, arms over his head. "Life's been interesting since I left the Mouse, that's for sure..."

Jack gave himself a soft, wry snort as he lowered his arms. If that wasn't the understatement of the year.

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	in_the_wings 2011-02-06 08:51 pm UTC (link)
	Seriously? The next time it takes me two months to reply to a thread, ESPECIALLY WITH THESE TWO IDIOTS, please, PLEASE feel free to kick me. Hard. ~~Just don't break anything, I've got no insurance!~~ XD (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	whiskey_jack 2011-02-11 03:41 am UTC (link)
	ROFL NO WORRIES. XD I've been known to get stuck on a tag for extended periods of time too. NO BREAKING OF TETS WILL HAPPEN. XDDD (Reply to this) (Parent)

	whiskey_jack 2011-03-04 02:18 am UTC (link)
	....Aaaaand you have EVERY RIGHT to kick me for taking nearly a month to reply back... facepalm (Reply to this) (Parent)