Scud would rather be a pet than cattle (scud_like_stud) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-23 20:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, dean winchester, joshua frohmeyer (scud) |
Who: Dean Winchester & Scud
What: Standing Wednesday Pie Date, Business proposal
When: 8/21
Where: An establishment that serves pie
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
Meeting Scud for pie in the late afternoon was something that Dean looked forward to every damn Wednesday. He might not have been as prone to compulsion and order as Castiel was, but he did like his routines, and was glad to have them back when they’d spent a while just being shot to all hell.
So he showed up at the diner a little early, and given that it was his turn to pick the pie, he ordered and waited for Scud. It was an obscenely rich reese’s cream pie, and he’d managed to charm the waitress into extra large slices for the pair of them. He was hungry. It’d been a long week. Sitting where he could see his Baby parked on the street definitely helped. Fuck, he was glad to have her. He hadn’t realized how much he needed that until he had it.
Scud was always a little late; it was just the way of things. But Wednesdays were quickly becoming his favorite of weekdays -- there was just something really fucking great about getting off of work, wiping the grime off as best he could, and then going and eating some really fantastic pastries with someone he considered like minded.
"Hey, man." Scud's smile was easy, a little crooked and always flirtatious. A few weeks ago he'd been curbed away from his need to call people by only their beginning initial. It was a bit of a shame, but he seemed to be getting over it alright.
He tucked himself into his side of the booth and gave his pie a fonder look than he usually awarded most men. "That's a fuckin' lovely car, serious like. Couldn't help but stare a little comin' in."
“I saw,” Dean said, smirking. “How’s it goin’?” Finally that Scud was here, he could actually take a bite of his pie and get some damn milk to go with it. What? You didn’t want that sitting out. Milk got all weird when it wasn’t ice cold.
Milk was always weird, but Scud was the exact opposite -- he liked it almost room temperature when he ate food -- particularly cold food. Not that he was particularly picky.
He shrugged, picked up his fork and went to town. "Little jealous, y'know? I still haven't gotten nothing worthwhile from the dreams. Just a shitty tattoo -- don't look as cool as yours, either, so don't go there, man. I'm just sayin'." Once he'd deemed his pie acceptable (what kind wasn't? Except coconut cream. Obviously.) he rose his eyebrows at Dean. "Been thinking. Of startin' up my own shop."
“Yeah?” Dean asked around a mouthful of pie. “This a recruiting meeting then?”
Scud's smile only went a little more crooked, if that was possible at all. "We're wasted talent man. Oil changes are for chumps. I actually wanna build shit. Ground up. I feel like you'd appreciate it, too."
Dean swallowed, feeling a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah? How much is the buy in for this, then?” Scud definitely had his attention.
Scud flipped his coffee cup up the right way and slid it to the side of the table, hoping to tip off the waitress that coffee was a thing. A thing he needed.
"No buy in," he said, shrugging lazily. "L's helpin' me out with it. Kinda his offer, y'know? I'd say it's more keepin' it goin' proper after everything's set up and -- y'know. A shop."
The waitress showed up and brought Scud coffee while Dean thought and ate. “Gonna have to talk it over with the angel.” Not that Dean thought it was going to be an issue. Cas seemed to understand the kind of artistry Dean could pull off with a hunk of metal (allegedly on fire) and he’d probably approve. It wasn’t like his paycheck at the shop was doing much contributing to the household income anyway. His VA check, well, that was actually more than he was getting paid. Disgusting, really.
“And figure out what kinda space you’re looking at and all that.”
That was kind of the thing. Setting the place up and all that wasn't a problem, but Scud didn't know Dean's financial status. Finding customers was always a gamble when it came to hoping to get paid. Scud? Didn't really need to get paid, he knew that Lo didn't care if he worked one way or the other, knew that he was effectively taken care of in a way he'd never really been before meeting his not-ginger.
"Already been looking' a bit," he admitted. "Have a few ideas, not sure yet though." Happily, he dumped an inordinate amount of sugar into his coffee cup. "Just thought I'd bring it up, but yeah, you should definitely talk to yer angel, or whatever."
Hell yeah Scud went with the angel thing. He was in Not Lesbians with a demon, who was he to judge or disbelieve?
Dean nodded and finished off his pie, sipping his milk to wash it down. “You got a timeline yet?”
Scud just looked at him. Like looked. And then cocked his head to the side almost like a puppy might. "You mean when I wanna get it all up off the ground? I dunno. End of summer, early fall?"
He could stick in his two weeks, then. Easy enough. “Right.” He took another drink of his milk. “Well, I’ll talk to Cas and get back to you next week?”
Scud finished off his pie (he preferred fruit, but this had been a nice change) and then gave a nod of approval. "Do that. I've usually got my phone around if you've got questions or whatever."
“‘Course,” Dean said. “So how’s the bike?”
"Fuckin' perfect." Scud grinned, nodding his head to the window and the bike parked next to the Impala. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Dean grinned, left money on the table for the bill. “C’mon.” Like two damn excitable kids, they went out to look at their toys.