MCA #4, Saturday Afternoon

[suitably_heroic]

Atton had to talk to Sparkle eventually; just because he now had a damn good idea why one version of himself wouldn't be on speaking terms with the kid twenty years from now, didn't mean history had to repeat itself. Alternate history? Alternate future? Ugh, this stuff made his head hurt.

It took him until Saturday before he trusted himself enough - and had convinced himself enough - to send Sparks a message: lunch on me at my place. Nice, neutral, simple.

Nice, neutral, and simple enough that he'd wound up spending the entire morning working on his new lightsaber just to get a little focus. In fact, by the time actual afternoon rolled around, he was still sitting on the floor, surrounded by lightsaber parts, floating the new crystal up into the air as he tweaked the setting. It'd taken him a long while to find a crystal that matched his main hand 'saber's in color and intensity; he didn't want to risk messing up the casing and possibly damaging the thing in the process. Besides, Sparks might not show up at all.

That was his story, anyway. He was sticking with it.

[[ open ]]

Comments

[suitably_heroic]

"Well, you know what they say on this planet about gift horses."

Though admittedly Atton was probably the wrong person to be preaching that one.

"You could get yourself set up. Get out of Lecter's place, maybe work at Demon Marcus a couple of days a week if they let you, eat mostly Mooby's..."

[myownface]

"Mooby's is never a good life choice, Atton."

... Coming from this kid, that was rich.

"But it's cheap," he allowed. "Kraft Dinner is cheaper, and if I smuggle out some ketchup packets those days I do get Mooby's, I won't even have to worry about, like, fucking scurvy."

Food hadn't really been much a concern in a while. It was weird how easily he was slipping into resigning himself to that sort of thing again, even here.

[suitably_heroic]

Atton rolled his eyes. "I can get you some fruit if you're that worried about scurvy," he said. "Who even gets scurvy anymore?"

[myownface]

"People who live on Kraft Dinner," Sparkle countered. "Like, exclusively. Maybe with instant ramen thrown in for good measure."

A beat.

"So, like, college kids, I guess."

[suitably_heroic]

Atton snorted.

"Okay, so scratch Mooby Land," he said, "If you're willing to get back to doing my grocery runs, my fridge is yours."

[myownface]

"... I can live with that."

Seriously, it sounded like a definite step up from what he was working with now, which was 'hang around Dr. Lecter's place just enough to not starve to death, and lament that a clothing store doesn't have a stove or something in the back.'

Sure, he could try to see if he could force the lock to the apartment upstairs from the place, but 'crashing in the back room of a place I probably work' and 'stealing a fucking apartment' seemed like maybe they were slightly different, comparatively, if somebody were to take issue with him being there.

"I'll even, like, steer away from the broccoli. I guess."

[suitably_heroic]

"I appreciate it," Atton said.

There was a knock on the door. He rose up and headed for it. "Speaking of food, there it is."

[myownface]

Right. Right. Atton had bribed him to come here with an offer of food. And now Sparkle was keenly aware of the mild knot of discomfort that had settled in his guts today, reminding him that he'd gotten used to eating proper meals on a consistent basis somewhere in there, and that skipping out when somebody was offering to feed him regularly because of some kind of stupid sense of shame or bruised pride was stupid. Stupid stupid.

"Fuck, that smells good," he muttered. "Thai?"

[suitably_heroic]

"Yep," Atton said. He took the large back inside, then reached for a basket near the door and produced some keys.

"Forgot to give these to you earlier, by the way," he added, "But if you're going to be grocery guy..."

He tossed them in Sparkle's general direction.

[myownface]

Sparkle caught those keys, and then kind of stared down at them for a moment, his brain needing to take a bit longer to catch up to what was sitting in his hand.

"... This'll make opening the door way easier when I have an armload of grocery bags," he managed, finally, and then pulled out his keyring, which was... mostly just Demon Marcus keys, actually, except that one that might or night not have belonged to Dite's, and started working the new one on to that. "The neighbours start complaining about me picking the lock or something?"

He had to make light of this. He'd probably do something stupid like start to get choked up or something, otherwise.

[suitably_heroic]

"And the lock's getting a little shaky," Atton agreed, setting the bag down on the table. "I'd rather not have to deal with Broody showing up to scowl at me while he fixes the thing."

He sat back down and started poking through the bag.

"Anyway, don't give me the wibbly thing. I don't like doing groceries and take-out is expensive. So since I'm lazy, as we both know, I'm going to make you do it, and I'm not even going to bother to pay you for it beyond food and a place to crash if you ever get sick of Lecter's."

[myownface]

Nooot mentioning the back room. Sparkle was noooot mentioning the back room plan at all, now.

"I wasn't going to give you the wibbly thing," he mumbled, having totally just slipped into the wibbly thing, shut up. "I was just picturing what the extra crap on my keychain was going to do to the way my jeans sat on my hips."

Sure thing, Sparks.

"There's... not... um. I don't know... a limit to how much crashing...?"

[suitably_heroic]

Atton fixed him with a look.

"It'd be nice if eventually you can kick a few bucks towards the rent," he said, "But no, of course there's no limit, you stoopa nerfherder."

And to prove he could occasionally be a functional adult, he didn't even add, As long as you don't burn the place down.

[myownface]

Hey, this was actually a great arrangement for you, Atton! Sparkle had a rule about not burning down places he was actually still living in! Just don't kick him out someday in the most humiliating way imaginable, and the apartment would be fiiiine.

Probably actually fastidiously clean, even.

"Okay, cool. I just had to... yeah. I don't know." Sparkle pulled in a deep breath, and took a few moments to get his thoughts together again. He was a bit uncertain these days, wary when it came to things like assuming he had somewhere to stay in the long-term. "A couple of weeks of working and I think I can manage rent money. That and grocery duty and cooking... seems like a not bad arrangement."

Seemed pretty great, actually.

[suitably_heroic]

Atton hadn't figured Sparkle would actually accept anything less-- not that he was going to ruin anything by mentioning it.

"Good," he said. He looked perfectly even and stoic about it-- and why wouldn't he? This fixed multiple problems with regards to the issue of Sparkle screwing up his own future.

(And it'd be nice to have Sparks around. Later, when the weird had passed completely.)

"Now take some of this Thai food off my hands," he said, shoving the carton at Sparkle. "You're turning into a damn twig."

[myownface]

Good call, Atton. This arrangement at least let him get along without feeling like he owed you anything for it. That... that was important.

"Okay, okay," Sparkle replied, snorting and making a reach for said carton. He could roll his eyes and scoff about it, but he really was thankful. And relieved. A whole lot of both of these things. "Jeeze, it hasn't even been that long since our last training session. I don't drop weight that fast."

Said, of course, right before making a grab for the chopsticks and starting to shovel pad thai into his face. So, you know. Actual mileage may vary, there.

[suitably_heroic]

Let it never be said Atton Rand didn't know how to play people to get what he wanted. Even if the thing in question was in the other party's best interest.

"If I pinch that biceps of yours," Atton said, "Are you going to scream and crumple into a little pile of pathetic? Because that's what you look like."

He grabbed a carton for his own and - grudgingly - grabbed actual chopsticks. (Did this mean he was going to have to get more cutlery? Ugh.)

[myownface]

It's okay, Atton. Sparkle wouldn't insist on actual cutlery unless there was ever a time when guests who might actually give a shit could possibly come over.

He was not above just buying a box of the disposable plastic stuff and going to town being wasteful bachelors making shitty life choices for a while.

"If you pinch one of my biceps, if I start screaming it'll be because what the hell, we're pinching, now? Come on, that's for, like, little kids."

Ones who were too young to burn down houses, probably.

[suitably_heroic]

"You're scrawny enough to go for an actual little kid," Atton said.

That was probably not entirely true.

[myownface]

"Oh, come on. I can at least take stupid-assed teenagers. I mean, like, baseline ones. Non-Jedi ones."

Dave had that broken tooth coming, too. Sock stealer.

[suitably_heroic]

"Maybe if they didn't sleep much and had a hangover," Atton said.

... it was weird how easy it was to slip back into this kind of banter.

[myownface]

And it was crazy just how badly Sparkle had needed it.

"Yeah, but why would I want to fight somebody with a hangover? Like, haven't they suffered enough?"

[suitably_heroic]

"Why are you asking me?" Atton asked him, squinting. "I was just trying to establish how noodley you've become. You didn't need to let me know it was noodley on the inside, too."

[myownface]

There was a long pause, then.

And then Sparkle grinned a little.

"You're talking about noodles again."

Maybe he was super noodly, but at least he hadn't stopped being a complete little shit?

That was a good thing, right?

[suitably_heroic]

Atton let out a long groan.

And threw a chunk of chicken at him with his chopsticks.

Serves you right, Sparks.