august booth (scruffyliar) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-04-07 11:23:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ₴ inactive: august booth, ₴ inactive: daryl dixon |
WHO: August Booth & Daryl Dixon
WHERE: Vallo City: Morningside Apartments then the streets
WHEN: March 7th, 2021
WHAT: Midnight tacos and making plans for the future.
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Complete
It wasn't odd for August to keep strange hours. He had no set schedule to his days, since all he did was random accounting jobs. Some of his time was spent bothering Daryl or popping by the Chakrabarti Clinic to see if Dr. Thompkins needed any work done. Occasionally, he would go see what Wynonna was up to. But most of the time, August could be found on the sofa in his apartment with Dog curled up by him as he read a book or binged a show. And if it happened to be the middle of the night, that wasn't too unusual either. Insomnia was a very real problem for him, and it had been since he had woken up and found himself in a whole new world again. This time without Emma. The two of them had been at the start of something new, when August had been taken away. So it had been disappointing, but not surprising to find himself alone again. Because of course he would never get to keep anything good for himself. It was his lot in life. Thankfully, it hadn't been long before Daryl had shown up. The two had grown close in Blackpoint and closer still, here in Vallo. It had been sad to find Toretto, Letty, and the kid gone, but so long as Daryl's greasy head stuck around, August figured it would be okay. He wasn't sure what it was about the other man, but he inspired a sense of family that August hadn't had in a very long time. Thoughts turned to Daryl again, as he paused in his book. Putting a marker in to save his place, he put the book down onto the stand next to the sofa and picked up his phone that had been sitting there. Dog didn't move an inch as August shifted around, content to keep snoozing. Heading to his text messages, he found the chain he had with Daryl quickly - mostly full of pictures of Dog and food - and sent a quick little, You up? It was close to midnight and he didn't expect a message back, but he was suddenly craving tacos. If Daryl was up, he would actually put on some pants and go out to get some from one of the late night places near the college. He thought he would get used to a soft bed easily once he knew society wouldn’t be taken away from him again but maybe he was never a soft bed kind of guy to begin with. Daryl adapted to a world after a disease left the dead walking better than one considered normal. The weirder it got though the better he did. Vallo was weird, so goddamn weird with it’s angry murderous birds, but he kind of liked it. Missed Hawaii, missed Dom and Letty and the kid. Still had August though and that was good. Daryl laid in the darkness of the bedroom on his stomach, arms underneath his pillow. The hilt of his trusty hunting knife brushed against the side of his hand, familiar and comforting. He didn’t sleep well without it or whatever the hell passed for decent sleep for him. Eyes closed he let the quiet settle around him, trying to still his mind. His phone chirped on the bedside stand and he opened an eye, the light from the screen casting a dim glow over the room. Reaching out, he picked up the phone and rolled onto his back. The slightest smile appeared as he tapped in an answer. ’course. what’s up? August didn’t have to wait long for a reply, as his phone lit up with the answering text from Daryl. Good ol’ Daryl. He was a reliable friend and had been for awhile now. Instead of answering the text, he called Daryl, figuring that would be easier, the initial text having been a test to see if the zombie killer was up. He was old fashioned that way, preferring phone conversations to texts. He waited until he heard the other man picking up, before launching right into it. “I’m craving tacos. Dog and I are going to go out and get some. You in?” He didn’t move from his seat on the sofa yet, in case Daryl wasn’t up for this. All jokes about one talking more than the other or word allotments for the month aside, Daryl appreciated how Booth got right down to it. “‘course I want some tacos,” Daryl murmured, words little more than a growl. He slowly sat up, running his fingers through his shaggy hair to knock it back from his face. Part of him was relieved Booth had called, not wanting to roll around a few times trying to find a comfortable spot or sleep. He just wasn’t in the mood for it. Company not so much either except for a specific few. Two. Booth or Beth and Beth was no doubt getting some much deserved sleep. ‘sides, he enjoyed spending time with Booth. The man could take some heat and give back just as much to Daryl’s eternal amusement. “Be down in a few minutes.” Well shorter than that because he was practically dressed already. Making his way down to Booth’s apartment would be the bulk of the time spent. That and his wallet which had taken a mysterious hike. “My wallet there?” Taking a quick look around to see if he could spy the wallet in question, he caught sight of it on the mantle, where Daryl had no doubt left it so Dog couldn’t get his teeth in it and bury it wherever he put his stash of stolen goods. “Yeah, it’s there. Good thing, cause you’re paying,” August said cheerfully, way too awake for it to be this late. He started to move, Dog not liking that one bit and flopping back down in the vacated warm spot that August had just left. Guess the dog wasn’t going to be coming with them. “Just let yourself in when you get here,” August said, before hanging up and heading into his bedroom to find some jeans to put on. Joggers might have worked for such a late trip out, but August was the kind of guy that dressed up for the second he stepped out of the door. It was just ingrained in him, after living so rough for such a long time. Why not have the finer things in life, when you could? Not that he didn’t appreciate Daryl’s mountain man/biker look, it just wasn’t for him and not something he wanted to try and pull off. “Thought you’d flirt with ‘em and they’d give us the meal free,” Daryl shot back. He’d changed since his arrival in Hawaii and while parts of him still remained beholden to the survivor he became, he’d found his ability to hold a conversation expanding because of the people in his life. Mostly Booth. Booth wasn’t afraid to give him shit and he could take what Daryl gave in return, the two of them going back and forth until poor Dom or Letty or both put a stop to it for their own sakes. One of these days he was going to stop giving Daryl permission to let himself in but until then, Daryl was just going to keep going in the window for the sheer enjoyment of the other man’s reaction. He slipped his phone in his back pocket and slipped out his own window, finding the already familiar path to Booth’s apartment. Probably could scuttle along by now without looking but he chose to eye his path if he could. No sense in being dangerous about it if he didn’t need to be. The treads on his boots gave him traction and eventually he slipped in through Booth’s window, sinking down to a crouch as he saw the beagle on the couch. Both knees cracked in protest and he winced. Goddamn he was getting old. “Hey. Dog.” He clapped his hands together and whistled but Dog clearly seemed to be enjoying the light indent left where August seemed to be relaxing just before he decided tacos were on the midnight menu. “Fine.” He rose to his feet and ambled over, bending down to scratch Dog’s stomach. “Spoiled rotten.” When August finally exited his room to reenter the living room, he wasn’t at all surprised to find Daryl there, giving Dog all of the belly scratches he could ever want. That dog was well and truly spoiled, but he deserved it, that sweet old thing. He had been abandoned by his previous family because of his older age, but August and Daryl had been all too eager to give the old boy a good home. “Don’t know why you’re muttering that, you’re the one that spoils him,” August called out, pulling on his watch and putting his cell phone in his back pocket. Putting his leather jacket on, he headed for the mantle and grabbed Daryl’s wallet. Tossing it in Dixon’s direction, he teased, “You know, just in case my flirting doesn’t pay off.” He shot a look over at Dog and asked the animal, “Well, you coming?” When the dog made no move to join him by the door, he rolled his eyes and then turned his look to Daryl. “Guess it’s just us.” Daryl snorted softly. “Ain’t just me.” The remark sounded approving instead of condemning though. He appreciated dogs and animals in general, animals tending to be more real, showing you who they were. Honest. Too many people hid their true colors until it was too late or would kill you for an unspoiled can of beans. Not a condemnation either with all the blood he had on his hands. The scritches moved up until he was using both hands to scritch behind Dog’s floppy ears as he got back to his feet. “He can sleep.” The dog slept anywhere at anytime, something of an enviable talent. Daryl could sleep anywhere but it was the inability to just fall asleep that got him. He caught the wallet and slid it into his pocket without a glance at the contents, lengthening his stride to catch up with Booth. His brow furrowed. “You mean there are times when it works?” he asked, not above taking another shot jokingly. August didn’t bother to argue about also being an accessory to spoiling Dog. Because yes, he absolutely did. It’s why the dog was up on the couch in the first place. His strict no animals on the furniture rule had gone out the window on day one. But he did absolutely give Daryl a side eye when he doubted his charisma. “You don’t think I could flirt my way into free tacos?” August asked, sounding absolutely offended. “BecauseI definitely could.” And now, he had a point to prove. “We’re getting free tacos,” he declared as they headed to the elevators and down to the lobby floor. “Think you think you can get us free tacos. Seein’ is believin’ though. Believe it when my taco’s free.” He did intend to pay but they were going out to look for tacos at this hour because neither one of them wanted to sleep; why not make it more interesting? “You get ‘em free and I buy the next three rounds.” He flashed three fingers at Booth. Wasn’t like he spent much otherwise and besides, he did tend to raid his fridge often enough. Daryl scratched at his jaw, fingernails over stubble. “One thing I like ‘bout this place. Plenty to do when you’re not much a sleeper at least.” He reached the lobby door first and pushed it open with a shoulder, holding it open for Booth. “Get ready to buy my drinks, Dixon,” August said, with confidence that he absolutely felt. He had traveled the Earth, flirting his way through many countries. August was sure he had this in the bag. So the swagger was all real, as he inclined his head in the slightest nod to Daryl as the other man held the door open for him. It was such a nice night out that the walk was pleasant. Yeah, they could have gone on their motorcycles, but this was more...calm. “Yeah, it’s nice at night too. Worst thing you gotta worry about is murderous birds now and then, but the entertainment options offset that well enough. Speaking, how are you doing after that vulture thing?” “Make good, I will.” In a way, Daryl somewhat envied the kind of confidence that Booth had. He had his own in his ability to track, to stay alive, to...well, protecting others was on shaky ground when he was pulled from his world and not much happened to fix that. Booth had confidence with people, an understanding of ‘em that he could use in interactions while some Daryl still didn’t understand. “Yeah. Different kinds of ‘em.” Vallo seemed to have no shortage of murderous bird types and most of ‘em inedible. “Sore but all right. You?” he asked, glancing over at Booth. August really hadn’t had a choice in whether to be charming or not. Circumstances had him relying just on himself from a very young age and charming got you places, where you could pursue a life of wealth. Being a grump ass, didn’t. So he had cultivated the persona of someone much more confident than he really was, of someone who lulled people into lowering their defenses. It’s how he survived all of these years and that didn’t stop, just because he no longer had to live like that. Because somewhere along the way, August became the person he was pretending to be. The shy, awkward wooden boy was long gone. “Better once I got a healer to help me out. Remind me to send a gift basket to the clinic at some point. They all need spa days, in my opinion.” There was never a lack of injuries around these parts. Hopefully the increased craziness of the last couple of weeks would mean that they had a quiet few weeks ahead of them. “Speaking of injuries, maybe you should lay off the fight club, old man.” It wasn’t that he didn’t think Daryl was capable, but it wasn’t a great feeling, seeing his friend get his ass kicked. “And a raise.” Once a month there seemed to be a constant stream into the clinic of people who ran right at the newest threat. Whatever was snatching them up and dropping them here seemed to like that type and also realized it was a good idea to have the kind to patch them up after. Daryl’s shoulders raised in a half-hearted shrug, kicking a pebble along the sidewalk as they strolled along. “What I know how to do. Fight.” Long before the world went to hell and even after finding himself in a better place, if a little strange. He’d been at it so long that he almost didn’t know how to stop. Still, Booth wasn’t the type to ask if he didn’t see something to be concerned about. He raised his head, tilting his head to knock some of the long hair out of his face. “I’ll try if you don’t call me ‘old’ again. Then I got something to prove,” he added softly, managing a rare smile to show he was joking. "And a raise," August agreed, remembering exactly how many times Wynonna had run off into the danger pit with no regard to herself and her prior injuries. God, he surrounded himself with a lot of heroic idiots. But they were never going to stop doing it, so all he could hope was that the clinic kept doing what it did. "You know how to fix stuff too, don't think we were able to run the garage on just our good looks." It was more than that, they had actually made a good team, him handling the books and customers and Daryl running the workings of the shop itself. Gisele had made sure they had occasionally eaten and showered, but beyond that, they had been a well oiled machine working in sync. "I have all the faith in you to figure out something to do here that isn't letting trained assassins and superheroes kick your ass. Not that you don't make a good showing of it, but I don't really like seeing you bruised up." “Like fixing stuff. Understand machines better’n people, you know?” Booth was right though. What worked for ‘em was their b saidrains cooperating, strengths working together to fill in where the other was weak. “You don’t, huh?” Daryl’s shoulder bumped into Booth’s. “Thanks.” Not a lot of people said that but then again, not many got past the many walls Daryl put up either. He faltered a step suddenly, idea coming to mind. “We know bikes. What if we did one of them custom bike shops? You know what goes into ‘em and I can work ‘em around. Start a thing, the two of us.” “Don’t make it a thing. I’ll have to call you a redneck again and then we’ll start fighting,” August warned, though he did bump Daryl’s shoulder back, staying in step with him. Listening to the idea that occurred to the other man, he smiled, enjoying the way he actually sounded excited. “Yeah? Could do that. I’d have to figure out some capital, but leave that to me.” When it came to money, Booth had ways. “But I’m in if you are.” “Only when you compare me to the ones out in the woods,” Daryl replied and grinned. It would take a damn lot for him to take an actual swing at Booth and that certainly was not it. “If you’re in, I’m in. We make a decent go of it, maybe it’s only a side hustle. Somethin’ that’s ours though.” He started to look a little sheepish again. “Something to look into anyway.” August smiled over at the other man, clearly endeared and not even realizing it. "Yeah, it'd be nice to have something of our own again." He nodded at the taco truck coming up in their view. "But first, get ready to buy me tacos." |