[ Going where the work shows up has led him to so many different places it boggles his mind sometimes. There really isn't much separation from person to person. Guy A hires him as a day worker a few times, doesn't need him anymore, but Guy A knows Guy B's in need of some extra help and sends him over that way.. and so on and so forth. Sometimes he gets lost in it and loses track of state lines. The northwest doesn't really help much either by way of scenery. Fields, some mountains, more fields.. endless backroads and rivers.
Honestly, most of the farms in Hope County look practically identical. A man named Kellett hired him for the week doing odd jobs around the property- mending some fences, baling hay, tending to the cattle and a few random horses. Hopefully there are a few more opportunities for work nearby so he doesn't have to worry about hitchhiking to the nearest city immediately. It's a worry for another day.
Mr. Kellett, or Lewis as he'd told Nick several times, said the only thing worth doing in Fall's End was to visit the bar.
The Spread Eagle.
Well.. That's certainly a choice that was made.
Nick slides up to an empty spot at the bar and orders whatever they have on special, thanking the bartender with the tips of his fingers on his chin, with the same motion as blowing a kiss. As he sips his beer, he takes a look around the modest bar, its dim lighting throwing most things in shadow. Locals mill about, having conversations and flitting from one group to the next. It's easy to tell that this is a small community that knows everybody and everything that happens. When Nick's attention flicks back, he catches the eye of someone. Not just someone, he notices. Law enforcement. Watching him, or just a coincidence? Not like he's done anything to be concerned about.
Either way, he offers a smile and tips his beer bottle towards him. Cheers. ]
[ Rook is in that awkward middling phase of being new in a small town. He knows most everyone, now, but he's still 'the new guy'. And despite being the only person that's moved in to Fall's End in the last six months, the cheerful greeting remains, "Heyyy, it's the new guy!" One would expect it to not be that difficult to learn his name (neither David nor Rook are complicated, he thinks), but there's also a sort of charm that the junior deputy has come to associate with the greeting. Folks in Hope County are friendly, for the most part. More than a few locals are a little cracked (some are a lot cracked), but for a brown gay man in a rural, largely conservative area, Rook is doing pretty well.
The Spread Eagle is busy tonight, like most nights, Johnny Cash filtering through the background of chatter about the day's work, or next month's harvest, or that weird little cult that's set up smack in the middle of the county. (They were odd folk, most thought, but the Seeds that were in charge were politely sociable and otherwise politely kept to themselves, even if the mac'n'cheese they brought to the Rye's potluck left something to be desired.)
The young man that settles into an empty spot at the bar gets David's attention for two reasons: one, Rook has never seen him before. He doesn't know everyone in the county, of course, but he's met quite a lot, and certainly all of the Eagle's regular patrons. The second, is that this stranger is decidedly handsome. He watches the gesture that he makes towards Mary May. It takes him just a moment to recall why it's familiar - thank you, in sign language. Mary May certainly isn't deaf, so that leaves him with the assumption that this newcomer is.
— A newcomer that has just caught him staring.
Rook grins in response, a little sheepish but not terribly apologetic, and he raises his beer in response. A moment later, he gets the attention of his coworker - another officer with shaggy hair and a bit of stubble by patting him on the arm, and points towards the bar. The man gives him a glance and an absent 'uh-huh', before returning to his conversation.
David seats himself next to the stranger, and waits for the other to turn to him. He greets him not with words, but with a gesture - hand upright to his temple, fingers together and thumb folded into his palm, and a short wave outward. It's almost like a strange salute, to someone that doesn't recognize sign, but it's how Rook learned to say 'hello' in ASL. It's a little stilted, similar to the way that someone hearing would speak a language they'd only learned in school and not through the culture itself. ]
[ He thinks that's the end of it once he lets the guy know he sees him, but is pleasantly surprised when he turns and find that he's sat next to him. Nick's eyebrow raises in surprise, and he can feel himself gaping when he's given that little gesture. It's been a while since anyone has signed at him, though he automatically assumes that people don't know ASL. It's uncommon, and in a place like Montana, probably very seldom used.
The guy seems a little hesitant, maybe worrying if he's using the right word or remembering how to do it. It's vastly more than he anticipated. Setting his beer down, he turns in his seat. Smiling, he puts his index and middle fingers together and puts them to his forehead, and draws them away in something like a salute. Then he brings his open palm toward his chest and makes the first sign again with both hands and crosses his paired fingers on top of each other and finishes by spelling out his name.
[ Oh right, hi, much less formal. That little grin returns, just a little self-conscious. Thankfully the stranger seems patient with his awkward signing. 'My name is' - easy enough to follow. He reflects the motions, and spells out his own name.
My name is David. Nice to meet you.
He pauses, hands paused in a sort of 'uh' gesture, as though trying to remember. He recalls a video, watched in the school library when he was much younger, tips for interacting with the deaf community, that included a few signs. This is probably the most advanced thing he knows - and given that much of his sign has been forgotten with disuse, it will be a useful question.
Are you deaf or hard of hearing? And then, as if to explain why he's asking a personal question up front: I know a little ASL. It's a little stilted, but he can't really say he's learning ASL anymore, so it's filled in with 'know' and 'little'. If there's a sign for 'just' or 'only', he doesn't remember it. ]
[ He considers it his lucky day even getting this far. Nick could certainly do a lot worse than a cold beer and a conversation. He puts all his fingers down except for his thumb and pinky, his thumb toward himself and motions between them.
Likewise.
Well, David is setting the bar for best conversation to be had in Fall's End, though he's not had time to communicate with most of the locals. He won't remember them and they'll do him the same courtesy once he leaves.
Deaf. I'm pretty good at lipreading. He's not bothered by the question anymore, but he's pleased that David at least backs up his question with a reason. As an aside, he pulls a small notebook out of his pocket and sets it on the countertop before picking up his beer and taking a quick drink. ]
[ He feels a little like he should remember that gesture, the one Nick uses for 'lipreading', particularly since it's such a simple sign, but he's not quite sure.
He glances to the notebook - if Nick uses that to communicate, that would be easier...
Oh!
David's expression breaks into a grin, and he fishes in his pocket, pulling out his phone. He searches on it for a moment, types something, then holds the screen out to Nick. On it is the notes app, and written: Is this easier for you? ]
[ Nick leans forward a bit to see the message and looks at David, shrugging. Honestly, it doesn't matter to him. He's been signing all his life, so it's something he's comfortable with. Some signs are easy to get his meaning across, but writing is faster for people he knows don't have as much of a grasp on ASL.
Sliding the notebook in front of himself, he scrawls out a quick message, handwriting messy, but legible.
[ David leans a little to peer at the notepad, then nods. He types out another response. I wish I knew more but my ASL is very rusty, and I didn't know much to begin with.
[ Nick smiles, reaching out to pat David's forearm before pulling his hand back to hold his notebook steady so he can write. When he's done, he slides the notebook toward his new friend.
What you did know was very useful. Most people are familiar with things like 'sorry. hungry. more. thank you. stop.' Things people teach young children. You knew enough what to ask and how to ask it.
Just passing through. Got work at a farm nearby for a few days. ]
[ David feels a warmth in his cheeks at the praise, mild as it may be. (The pat on the forearm doesn't help. It's good for him that Pratt isn't over here, he'd probably tease David mercilessly if he caught that momentarily bashful smile.) He knows all those signs, or at least did at one point, and they had been taught to him as a child, but after meeting a deaf classmate, he'd taken to the school library to learn more.
Migrant workers are not entirely uncommon in Hope County. It's very rural but the sheer amount of farms and the short growing season is a decent opportunity before moving on to warmer climates, but many travel together and it's not quite the season for them.
Do you have somewhere to stay?
Rook is pretty sure the closest motel is the next county over. Well - there's that one lodge, but it's pretty expensive, if not a membership thing. ]
[ Nick looks at the question and raises his eyebrow, glancing up at David pointedly before taking his notepad back. When he holds it up, he taps his pen on his rebuttal question.
Is everyone so nosy here or just you? :P
A few lines below that is written: he offered me the barn, so that will be interesting haha ]
[ Rook's face heats up all over again. He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. Sorry. He remembers that sign.
He glances down at his phone again, and wrestles with himself momentarily. Then:
Believe it or not, most people here are a lot more nosy, it just might not be to your face.
Hey, I don't mean this to be uh, more nosy or rude or pitying or... whatever, but if you want a place to stay that isn't a barn, I've got a spare bedroom you're welcome to. I live on the edge of town.
Rook doesn't know homelessness, but he has family members that do, a grandfather and an uncle that both stayed with their family in their little trailer to keep from being out in the cold. He and Nick barely know each other's names, but the way Rook sees it, he has nothing of value, if Nick was the type to steal, and he has a bedroom that's doing nothing but gathering dust. ]
[ Nick waves off his apology, not really finding it necessary in the first place. He's just teasing the poor guy. Hell, he means well with his curiosity, a stranger drifting through his community is bound to raise an eyebrow or two.
Reading the text, he really does try not to look disappointed in himself. He didn't want the poor guy feeling sorry for him. Nick just.. did what he had to do in order to get by. Sure, he could have gotten a cheap motel, but that would have cut into the money he'd been saving so fastidiously. He doesn't really want to sleep in a barn, but it's a roof over his head and a dry place to sleep. Nick's done far more with less in the past.
He takes his time to consider his words, tapping the pen against his chin, brow furrowed as he looks down at the paper for inspiration.
I don't want to impose, and I don't want you to feel obligated to extend hospitality when you don't know me. I'll be fine, promise.
You're nice, and you're cute. It makes up for being nosy. ]
[ It dawns on Rook, as he sits there nursing his beer and waiting for Nick's response, that his extension of an offer might be seen as flirting, or worse, some kind of proposition. Nick is definitely attractive, but that's just not the sort of thing you come right out with, man to man - particularly in rural fucking Montana.
His face burns all the hotter for the realization, and it helps far less that Mary May is staring at him with a faintly amused look on her face. The flush in his cheeks might not be easy to see, but his body language (and expression) are probably pretty obvious. He holds up his beer to indicate he'd like another to drown his embarrassment in, and leans to look at Nick's notepad.
— Oh.
By the time he has a new beer, Rook's gone from slightly mortified to at least a little pleased, the warmth in his cheeks now for a different reason.
No, I get it. It's definitely not an imposition or an obligation, I live alone so. Just an offer.
He allows Nick to read out what he's typed, then considers. 'Cute' is not really an adjective that straight dudes normally use for each other, to Rook's knowledge. Unless Nick is teasing him?
You're pretty cute yourself.
This is somehow infinitely worse than a risky text, having to watch the recipient's reaction in real time. ]
[ Nick sits there nursing his beer as he waits for a response, mulling over everything. For someone who relies a lot on the generosity of strangers for work and potentially lodging, he feels uncomfortable about accepting something like that from someone he doesn't know past a name. Not that he fears for his own safety, he doesn't get a dangerous vibe from David in the least.
He's absolutely teasing the poor guy, but he doesn't speak any lie, either. He does think David is attractive, he has eyes.
His expression turns playful and he smirks, winking as he slides the notebook back once he's done with it.
Most people would offer to buy somebody a drink before inviting them home. ]
[ For just a moment, Rook is confused by the wink, and he leans to read— ]
Hey, Mary? [ Rook gives the proprietress a sheepish smile. ] Sorry, can you get another for our new friend here? On me.
[ Rook types out his answer as Mary May pops the lid on another Whistling Beaver and sets it on the bar in front of Nick (lager seems to be the beer of choice around Hope County).
For the record, the offer wasn't meant like that, but...
He gives a little grin of his own. Part of him worries that he's being obvious, that somehow everyone that's in the Spread Eagle will realize he and Nick are flirting and that somehow everyone in the county will know by tomorrow that the new deputy is gay. Part of him likes being able to communicate in a way that others can't overhear, being far bolder than he would normally. ]
[ Nick offers her another thank you as she sets another beer in front of him, taking the empty bottle away. It's not a bad beer, but he's never been horribly picky. Any time he can drink one is a treat. He smiles at David, resting his head in his palm, watching the other man as he writes.
I haven't said no, have I?
Maybe he is being bold, but the great thing about being a drifter is that he's easily forgotten in the shuffle. Once he has enough, he'll settle down and take classes, but that's what he's saving for. It'll just take time, but for right now, that doesn't matter. Right now, there's a cute guy flirting with him who also got him a drink.
[ Something about the way Nick leans on his hand and looks at him elicits a light, almost effervescent sensation to flutter in his stomach. He's gorgeous, honestly, and the most flirting that Rook is used to is banter with his high school sweetheart.
Well, it wasn't a yes, either. Which is fair, just saying.
He wants to be entirely sure before he puts all of his cards on the table (-not that he hasn't put most of them on there, but still-) Regardless of if the answer is yes or no, it's kind of... nice, to flirt casually. David is a fairly average young man in terms of sexual interest, and Tinder is useless out here in the sticks. (He tried it, just out of curiosity: the closest matches were between 50 and 100 miles away.) So when Nick smiles at him, he can't help but smile back, glancing away briefly. ]
[ He doesn't make it a habit of flirting wherever he goes, but what kind of person would he be to turn down an opportunity presented to him? Nick sits up straight, looking mock startled and writes: oh! Did I not say?
Holding the pad up next to his face, he smirks and makes a fist, moving it up and down like a nod. Yes, then. There's nothing to lose going home with him, whether it leads to sex or not, there's so much more appeal than sleeping in a musty barn with a bad draft and one blanket. ]
[ Rook can't help but laugh at the way Nick answers. Nice to know that being a smart ass transcends language barriers. It's endearing, too, the harmless sort that's more playful than anything.
Alright, can't argue with that.
He sips at his beer, pondering conversation. He's always been pretty decent at small talk, but something about flirting and knowing Nick is coming home with him has the deputy distracted.
So, tell me about yourself, other than 'Nick' and 'cute'. If you want. ]
[ He appreciates that the flirting is going as far as it is, he's having a pretty damn good evening as it is. He holds up a finger to indicate that he'll be a moment and he takes to his notepad.
My name is Nicholas Andros, I was born in Caslin, Nebraska. My dad had a heart attack and died before I was born and my mother was in a car accident, which made me the way that I am. I was sent to an orphanage. I ran away when I was sixteen, but I doubt they looked too hard- one less mouth to feed and one more bed to fill. I stayed out of trouble, took GED classes where I could. Saving up to take a college course or two when I can. Until then, I take odd jobs where I can and don't stay in one place too long.
Want to take 'cute' back yet, or is this just adding to my mysterious exterior? ]
[ Rook waits patiently, nursing his beer. (Maybe a little faster than he might usually. The promise of getting to go home with a cute guy, wherever it leads, is more excitement than he's had in a good while.)
He reads over it, and the comment at the end earns a quiet chuckle. He wouldn't call it mysterious, but it certainly doesn't make him want to take his compliments back.
You'll have to try harder than that, sorry. I'm from the reservation up north, stories similar to yours aren't uncommon. My dad died from a heart attack too, when I was 11.
[ David's comment gets him to smile. Good to know that he's not scared the poor guy off yet. He shakes his head and offers a shrug.
Haven't really thought about it. I want to help people, I just don't know in what capacity yet. If that makes sense?
Nick finishes off his beer, trying not to think too much about the future. He'll figure it out when he gets there. It will take him time anyway since he can only do one at a time without a consistent job. ]
[ He smiles in return. It's cute, that Nick wants to help people— and not in a patronizing way, either. It's something David recognizes in himself, a calling that, even if the two of them are going about it in different ways, ties them together.
It does make sense. That's why I became a cop, actually. I want to be in the BIA one day.
Rook sees Nick finish his beer, and downs the rest of his own in a few gulps. Belatedly, he wonders if that seemed obvious, or desperate. Then he wonders if he's overthinking it.
Want another? Or had enough of the charm of a small town bar? ]
[ Nick ducks his head, smirking into his shoulder at David's haste to finish. He really didn't need to, but he can't say that it's not flattering that he wanted to hurry up for his sake.
He shakes his head, offering a thumbs up. He's good to go. Standing, Nick picks up his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, putting a few bills on the counter for his own beer and gives Mary May another thank you that she may or may not see. He heads for the door and waits for David outside.
Just in case he had to let someone know he was leaving. ]
[ He catches a glimpse of that smirk, and David feels his face grow hot all over again. Still, when Nick stands, Rook doesn't hesitate to follow suit. He hands over payment for the drinks, and pauses to tell his fellow deputy that he's headed out for the night.
After a couple of 'hey, how are you's, Rook steps into the night air with a sigh. He finds Nick and offers a smile, then points towards the side of the building where he's parked.
Rook's ride is a 1981 Pygmalion Hillside 1600, with a cream and sienna paint job. It's old and clearly seen a lot, but it's also very clean for someone that lives in a place that has more dirt roads than asphalt, and appears to be in pretty good repair. He unlocks the door for Nick first and holds it open. He doesn't mind being a 'gentleman' in the traditional sense, but mostly it's just that the passenger door doesn't unlock from the driver's side. ]
[ He falls into stride behind David, following him around the side of the bar. The truck is certainly old, but he can tell that it's well-loved given its condition. Most cars that old have a good bit of rust, but it looks like he doesn't really neglect on the upkeep.
Nick gives him thanks, setting his bag on the floor between his feet before settling in and buckling his seatbelt. He's interested in seeing a little more of Hope County, even if it's just a few blocks. ]
[ When he turns the truck on, the vibration of the speakers can be felt in the floorboard, and Rook startles a little and sheepishly turns the volume down on the radio.
The drive itself is only a couple of minutes - Fall's End is tiny, and Rook definitely lives within easy walking distance. He'd only taken his truck to the Spread Eagle because he'd come straight from work with Pratt.
The house he drives up to is tiny, butter yellow, with flowering hanging baskets suspended from the porch. It doesn't exactly look like somewhere a young bachelor might live. Rook waits for Nick on the bottom step, and holds the door open for him once it's unlocked. Inside just makes it far more obvious how very unlike David this place is. It looks like a photo from the 60s or 70s of someone's grandmother's house. ]
[ He catches that sheepish expression and the way he turns down the volume. Nick could feel the vibrations in his feet, but that was all. He raises an eyebrow at David, gesturing to his ear and shaking his head. Trying to telegraph something like 'did you forget', though his expression is relaxed, lips quirked upward in a teasing smile.
This guy is more wholesome than he has any right to be.
Nick looks out the window at the passing houses, taking in what little there was to Falls End, but finding that he quite likes the sleepy little town. He follows behind David when the truck stops, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Nodding his head in gratitude, he steps inside and looks around. It definitely doesn't look like a bachelor's pad, more like something off of The Brady Bunch, but it was also endearing. Turning to David, he spreads his fingers, and touching his forehead, bounces his hand away twice.
[ David's embarrassment only intensifies at the teasing, but he shakes his head in an adamant 'no', he didn't forget, thank you!
The house is, at least, immaculately clean. To the left, a little dining room table and beyond that, a kitchen with harvest gold and avocado everything. To the right, a living room with a shag carpet and mismatched, over-stuffed patterned couch and recliner. A bulky, somewhat ancient console television sits on the floor, with a newer model on top that is still about fifteen years out of date. Beyond the living room, a hallway that leads to a bathroom and the two bedrooms.
Rook looks back to Nick, and shakes his head. Landlady moved to an independent living facility when her husband died and left most of her furniture here. I'm pretty sure she's old enough to be my great-grandma, though. She comes by sometimes to collect rent and bring me food. I tell her I can cook but, once a grandma, always a grandma, I guess. And he doesn't mind. She's nice, and he didn't have the money to decorate a house yet anyway.
Make yourself at home. Bathroom is on the left, guest bedroom is at the end of the hallway. Want anything from the kitchen? ]
[ More important than being clean, it feels lived in. It feels like a home that has had lots of love poured into it over the years. He toes his shoes off, setting them by the door, not wanting to track mud or dirt into an old lady's house unnecessarily. Or into Rook's home, for that matter.
We had a few church grandmothers stop by the orphanage pretty often to drop off casseroles and boxes of stuff from church drives. They never really seem to be able to help themselves and telling them to stop is like talking to a brick wall. Sometimes you have to just let them do their damage and say thank you. Or else, ha ha.
No, I'm good thanks. I'm going to go set my things down.
He nods at David, shuffling to the guest bedroom to at least stow his bag. The bedroom is modest and looks much the same as the rest of the house- outdated and overstuffed, but he's slept in far worse places than this. Hell, if he hadn't come back home with David, he'd be sleeping in Kellett's barn. Rejoining him, he leans against the entryway to the kitchen, watching his host silently. ]
[ Rook begins taking off his heavy belt and holster, leaning over to read Nick's message. It earns a laugh and a nod of empathy. He's tried telling his landlady that he honestly knows how to cook. She comes from the next county over just to bring him "leftovers", but, like Nick said, it's as though he's talking to a brick wall. But, it's sweet of her to do, and he does appreciate it, even if he worries about her driving all that distance. (He's also offered to mail the rent or even drive it over there himself, but still, that same very nice, kindly brick wall.)
He gives a thumbs up to what Nick says next, and then sets about hanging up his belt, tugging off his boots, and storing his gun away in his bedroom, hidden in his nightstand. In the kitchen, he ponders one more beer, but decides against it, settling instead for a glass of water. He turns to find Nick watching him, and offers a smile... that turns pretty quickly into a cheeky grin.
Mind if I slip into something more comfortable? By which he means, he's just going to change out of his work clothes. These shirts don't iron themselves, despite how much polyester is probably in them. ]
[ Nick smiles in return, pushing his shoulder off the entryway so he can free his arm to sign properly.
His eyebrows raise upward and he points to Rook. Keeping the same hand up, he turns his straightened finger into a crook, motioning downward. The same hand he turns into a thumbs up, his other hand underneath, raising up the other.
[ Rook's gaze follows Nick's hands intently, and then there's a distinct moment when it registers what he's signed.
Oh. Oh.
Warmth floods his face to the tips of his ears. He's surprised, maybe, that Nick is so forward- though he reminds himself a moment later that he'd bought the man a drink and invited him to stay in his home. The offer of a room had been meant innocently. The drink... maybe a little less so, but he was fine with whatever tonight's outcome.
He grins, once he gets his wits together, and manages to sign in return: I wouldn't mind the help. ]
[ His grin widens and he winks at David, nodding toward the rest of the house. Maybe he is being forward, but he also isn't the one that invited a stranger home after picking him up in a bar. He doesn't have an opinion one way or the other about hooking up- people have needs, and he takes what he can get. Nobody is really waiting in line. Not that he's bitter about it, he's mostly preoccupied with his working travels.
This is a really nice change, though.
David is cute, and Nick really loves the way his entire face heats up when he's embarrassed. It means he'll have to tease him more in the future. He takes a few steps back toward the house's sitting room. Did they really want things to get started in the kitchen? ]
[ David is a gentleman, thank you, and unless the mood suits, he's not going to subject someone to leaning on the kitchen counter. In fact, he moves to bypass the living room entirely - though he does pause and indicate towards the bedroom to make sure that's alright. There's more room and it's probably more comfortable, but it might also be a little... much? for a hookup? He's actually never done this before.
And given that communication beyond 'yes' and 'no' might be difficult in the midst of things, Rook holds out his phone with another message.
Anything you want me to know? Preferences?That, strangely, he doesn't seem embarrassed about, more focused on Nick's comfort than anything. ]
[ Nick follows him, giving him a thumbs up when he motions toward the bedroom. Wherever David is comfortable with him being, really. This is his home and he's a guest. Looking at the phone screen, he shakes his head and takes up the phone for just a moment before typing back on the next line.
I'll be sure to let you know if I think of anything. What should I not do?
[ David accepts the phone back, and answers once more: Uh, don't judge me too harshly? I actually haven't ever brought a guy home before. Wait, hang on, don't look yet. A quick edit: Casually, I mean. Also, the offer of a room isn't contingent on anything between us happening or not happening, I promise.
He'll keep his phone close by, just in case they need to parse anything out. Stopping to clarify wouldn't be the worst thing, if it gets that far. For now, he guides Nick to the bedroom, and pauses by the bedside. The room, for better or worse, matches the kind of charmingly outdated rest of the house. All of the room, that is, save for the bed linens: clearly new, and clearly picked out by David, white sheets and a comforter that is an unoffensive neutral grey on one side, and white on the other.
Lingering close and reaching to put a light hand along Nick's waist, David uses his other hand to point at the other man's chest, and gestures over his own face with two fingers in something approximating a circle. ]
You're handsome. [ He's doing his best with what little he's got, as far as ASL goes. ]
[ He didn't assume that he'd need to do any sort of sexual favors for a room- that had come up before the flirting between them had started. David doesn't seem like that kind of person, anyway. His heart is too big to take advantage of anyone, and he doesn't even know the guy that well. The way he milled about with the other residents and their reception of him is a dead giveaway for the kind of man he is.
Besides, Nick is pretty damn good at reading people. He wouldn't have flirted as hard with David if he hadn't meant it.
Reading his note quickly, Nick grins and spreads his fingers, touching his slightly-bent middle finger to his chin, twisting his hand outward, and then gestures to himself. Lucky me.
His hands slide up to the lapels of David's shirt, fingers wrapping into the stiff material. Nick reaches up to brush his index and middle fingers against David's chin. Definitely not calling him cute, nope. ]
[ Rook follows those gestures, and it takes a moment, but then that pleased little grin returns. It might be a bit vain, but he likes Nick calling him cute.
He tugs lightly on Nick's waist to draw the two of them closer, and leans in. A momentary pause, brown gaze flickering to meet Nick's, before David tips his head to press their lips together. It's a light brush at first, undemanding- almost as though testing the waters. It makes his stomach flip in a way that isn't unpleasant. It's a sensation he hasn't felt in... well, a while. ]
[ He likes the look on David's face that he put there. Pleased is a good look for him. Their eyes meet for just a moment before their lips touch.
Nick keeps one hand curled into David's uniform shirt, the other slides up to the side of his face. His thumb brushes over the plane of his cheekbone, the skin smooth and warm under his fingers. Taking it slow is nice, just letting the feeling simmer before things escalate. Even if this was all they did tonight, Nick can't really be disappointed.
[ It's... nice, kissing someone again. It's a little surreal, that he managed to find someone both his type, and who finds him enough of their type to be receptive to him in rural freaking Montana. After Tinder proved to be a bust, Rook had all but resigned himself to a dry few years working for the Hope County Sheriff's Department.
He moves slow, content with easy, light kisses for a few moments. Eventually, he slips both hands around Nick's waist, thumbs brushing upward along his side. Then, his lips part a little, tongue testing along the seam of Nick's lips. ]
[ He lets David take the lead, kissing languid and unrushed. Nick parts his lips when David's tongue slides against them, hands moving down to his hips, pulling their bodies together.
Whatever he anticipated in coming to Hope County, this certainly wasn't anywhere on his list. Not that he's complaining one bit. David's lips are warm and soft against his, tasting lightly of the beer they'd both been drinking not too long ago. His hands don't linger for too long, moving up the small of David's back and over his ribs. Nimble fingers work at the buttons of his uniform shirt. ]
[ He presses in firmly when Nick tugs them together, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. As he seeks tongue against tongue, David first rubs his fingertips along Nick's waist over his shirt, then tugs the fabric up to trail along bare skin. It's a light touch at first, fingertips grazing waist and hip. Then, he ventures a light nip at Nick's lower lip and tugs a little on his waist, thumbs kneading into the dips of his hips.
He can't help a little grin against the kiss, some combination of being playful, being pleased at the feeling of Nick undoing his buttons, and just... pleased in general that this is now (unexpectedly but delightfully) his night. ]
[ Nick's tongue slides against the one invading his mouth, welcoming that deepened, hungry kiss. Callused fingers brush his bare skin and he flinches in surprise, but it doesn't deter him any. He was so focused on the way David's mouth feels against his that he got kind of lost in it.
He releases a hitched exhale when teeth graze his lip and he resists the urge to tear away the buttons remaining on David's shirt if only to get rid of the obstacle. Instead, he focuses his attention on that and divests him of the stiff olive fabric, throwing it into the corner.
Pulling back so he can catch his breath, he takes time to just drink a little more of David in. His fingers brush over the long, neat braid. The long hair suits him horribly well. He takes a moment to toss his own overshirt away, shoving the suspenders off his shoulders. ]
[ He pauses immediately, feeling that flinch, and pulls back just enough to silently check in. Given that Nick is still busily unbuttoning his uniform, Rook assumes that everything is fine.
When Nick breaks away, David does too, albeit a little reluctantly. He lets his hands linger on the other's hips, hooking one finger into a belt loop. Idly he wets his lip, as though tasting Nick's kiss still lingering. ]
In a hurry? [ He signs, and the curve of his mouth suggests he's just being mischievous about it, and he doesn't mind at all. In fact: ] I like it.
[ As if to prove his point, David tugs his undershirt up and off, discarding it off to the side. ]
[ Nick smirks and nods once in affirmation, not wasting any time splaying his hands against David's naked torso. His fingers trail up and down his sides before exploring the planes of his stomach and sliding his way upward. He takes a nipple between his thumb and index finger, working the bud to hardness.
He's adorably handsome, Nick finds it incredibly unfair. To level the playing field, he releases David's nipple and discards his own undershirt, leveling him with a grave expression.
[ David is not entirely sure how he got this lucky, when Nick smirks at him like that, but he is very grateful regardless.
His eyes close as the other teases his nipple, drawing in a slow breath and enjoying the sensation suddenly sparking in his nerves and the way it seems to warm him. He leans in, one hand cradling the other's face, and dips his head to press kisses along Nick's neck. Once or twice he grazes teeth instead, light and teasing, and lets the warmth of his slightly heavier breaths fall across the other's skin.
When he pulls back to watch Nick sign, it takes him just a second. He's not exactly sure what 'pants' is, but he can guess that's what it means - and he doesn't need to be told twice. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, just slow enough to be cheeky. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@violenti
Honestly, most of the farms in Hope County look practically identical. A man named Kellett hired him for the week doing odd jobs around the property- mending some fences, baling hay, tending to the cattle and a few random horses. Hopefully there are a few more opportunities for work nearby so he doesn't have to worry about hitchhiking to the nearest city immediately. It's a worry for another day.
Mr. Kellett, or Lewis as he'd told Nick several times, said the only thing worth doing in Fall's End was to visit the bar.
The Spread Eagle.
Well.. That's certainly a choice that was made.
Nick slides up to an empty spot at the bar and orders whatever they have on special, thanking the bartender with the tips of his fingers on his chin, with the same motion as blowing a kiss. As he sips his beer, he takes a look around the modest bar, its dim lighting throwing most things in shadow. Locals mill about, having conversations and flitting from one group to the next. It's easy to tell that this is a small community that knows everybody and everything that happens. When Nick's attention flicks back, he catches the eye of someone. Not just someone, he notices. Law enforcement. Watching him, or just a coincidence? Not like he's done anything to be concerned about.
Either way, he offers a smile and tips his beer bottle towards him. Cheers. ]
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The Spread Eagle is busy tonight, like most nights, Johnny Cash filtering through the background of chatter about the day's work, or next month's harvest, or that weird little cult that's set up smack in the middle of the county. (They were odd folk, most thought, but the Seeds that were in charge were politely sociable and otherwise politely kept to themselves, even if the mac'n'cheese they brought to the Rye's potluck left something to be desired.)
The young man that settles into an empty spot at the bar gets David's attention for two reasons: one, Rook has never seen him before. He doesn't know everyone in the county, of course, but he's met quite a lot, and certainly all of the Eagle's regular patrons. The second, is that this stranger is decidedly handsome. He watches the gesture that he makes towards Mary May. It takes him just a moment to recall why it's familiar - thank you, in sign language. Mary May certainly isn't deaf, so that leaves him with the assumption that this newcomer is.
— A newcomer that has just caught him staring.
Rook grins in response, a little sheepish but not terribly apologetic, and he raises his beer in response. A moment later, he gets the attention of his coworker - another officer with shaggy hair and a bit of stubble by patting him on the arm, and points towards the bar. The man gives him a glance and an absent 'uh-huh', before returning to his conversation.
David seats himself next to the stranger, and waits for the other to turn to him. He greets him not with words, but with a gesture - hand upright to his temple, fingers together and thumb folded into his palm, and a short wave outward. It's almost like a strange salute, to someone that doesn't recognize sign, but it's how Rook learned to say 'hello' in ASL. It's a little stilted, similar to the way that someone hearing would speak a language they'd only learned in school and not through the culture itself. ]
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The guy seems a little hesitant, maybe worrying if he's using the right word or remembering how to do it. It's vastly more than he anticipated. Setting his beer down, he turns in his seat. Smiling, he puts his index and middle fingers together and puts them to his forehead, and draws them away in something like a salute. Then he brings his open palm toward his chest and makes the first sign again with both hands and crosses his paired fingers on top of each other and finishes by spelling out his name.
Hi, my name is Nick. ]
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My name is David. Nice to meet you.
He pauses, hands paused in a sort of 'uh' gesture, as though trying to remember. He recalls a video, watched in the school library when he was much younger, tips for interacting with the deaf community, that included a few signs. This is probably the most advanced thing he knows - and given that much of his sign has been forgotten with disuse, it will be a useful question.
Are you deaf or hard of hearing? And then, as if to explain why he's asking a personal question up front: I know a little ASL. It's a little stilted, but he can't really say he's learning ASL anymore, so it's filled in with 'know' and 'little'. If there's a sign for 'just' or 'only', he doesn't remember it. ]
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Likewise.
Well, David is setting the bar for best conversation to be had in Fall's End, though he's not had time to communicate with most of the locals. He won't remember them and they'll do him the same courtesy once he leaves.
Deaf. I'm pretty good at lipreading. He's not bothered by the question anymore, but he's pleased that David at least backs up his question with a reason. As an aside, he pulls a small notebook out of his pocket and sets it on the countertop before picking up his beer and taking a quick drink. ]
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He glances to the notebook - if Nick uses that to communicate, that would be easier...
Oh!
David's expression breaks into a grin, and he fishes in his pocket, pulling out his phone. He searches on it for a moment, types something, then holds the screen out to Nick. On it is the notes app, and written: Is this easier for you? ]
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Sliding the notebook in front of himself, he scrawls out a quick message, handwriting messy, but legible.
signing is easier, writing is faster. :) ]
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You're new in town, right? ]
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What you did know was very useful. Most people are familiar with things like 'sorry. hungry. more. thank you. stop.' Things people teach young children. You knew enough what to ask and how to ask it.
Just passing through. Got work at a farm nearby for a few days. ]
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Migrant workers are not entirely uncommon in Hope County. It's very rural but the sheer amount of farms and the short growing season is a decent opportunity before moving on to warmer climates, but many travel together and it's not quite the season for them.
Do you have somewhere to stay?
Rook is pretty sure the closest motel is the next county over. Well - there's that one lodge, but it's pretty expensive, if not a membership thing. ]
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Is everyone so nosy here or just you? :P
A few lines below that is written: he offered me the barn, so that will be interesting haha ]
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He glances down at his phone again, and wrestles with himself momentarily. Then:
Believe it or not, most people here are a lot more nosy, it just might not be to your face.
Hey, I don't mean this to be uh, more nosy or rude or pitying or... whatever, but if you want a place to stay that isn't a barn, I've got a spare bedroom you're welcome to. I live on the edge of town.
Rook doesn't know homelessness, but he has family members that do, a grandfather and an uncle that both stayed with their family in their little trailer to keep from being out in the cold. He and Nick barely know each other's names, but the way Rook sees it, he has nothing of value, if Nick was the type to steal, and he has a bedroom that's doing nothing but gathering dust. ]
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Reading the text, he really does try not to look disappointed in himself. He didn't want the poor guy feeling sorry for him. Nick just.. did what he had to do in order to get by. Sure, he could have gotten a cheap motel, but that would have cut into the money he'd been saving so fastidiously. He doesn't really want to sleep in a barn, but it's a roof over his head and a dry place to sleep. Nick's done far more with less in the past.
He takes his time to consider his words, tapping the pen against his chin, brow furrowed as he looks down at the paper for inspiration.
I don't want to impose, and I don't want you to feel obligated to extend hospitality when you don't know me. I'll be fine, promise.
You're nice, and you're cute. It makes up for being nosy. ]
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His face burns all the hotter for the realization, and it helps far less that Mary May is staring at him with a faintly amused look on her face. The flush in his cheeks might not be easy to see, but his body language (and expression) are probably pretty obvious. He holds up his beer to indicate he'd like another to drown his embarrassment in, and leans to look at Nick's notepad.
— Oh.
By the time he has a new beer, Rook's gone from slightly mortified to at least a little pleased, the warmth in his cheeks now for a different reason.
No, I get it. It's definitely not an imposition or an obligation, I live alone so. Just an offer.
He allows Nick to read out what he's typed, then considers. 'Cute' is not really an adjective that straight dudes normally use for each other, to Rook's knowledge. Unless Nick is teasing him?
You're pretty cute yourself.
This is somehow infinitely worse than a risky text, having to watch the recipient's reaction in real time. ]
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He's absolutely teasing the poor guy, but he doesn't speak any lie, either. He does think David is attractive, he has eyes.
His expression turns playful and he smirks, winking as he slides the notebook back once he's done with it.
Most people would offer to buy somebody a drink before inviting them home. ]
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Hey, Mary? [ Rook gives the proprietress a sheepish smile. ] Sorry, can you get another for our new friend here? On me.
[ Rook types out his answer as Mary May pops the lid on another Whistling Beaver and sets it on the bar in front of Nick (lager seems to be the beer of choice around Hope County).
For the record, the offer wasn't meant like that, but...
He gives a little grin of his own. Part of him worries that he's being obvious, that somehow everyone that's in the Spread Eagle will realize he and Nick are flirting and that somehow everyone in the county will know by tomorrow that the new deputy is gay. Part of him likes being able to communicate in a way that others can't overhear, being far bolder than he would normally. ]
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I haven't said no, have I?
Maybe he is being bold, but the great thing about being a drifter is that he's easily forgotten in the shuffle. Once he has enough, he'll settle down and take classes, but that's what he's saving for. It'll just take time, but for right now, that doesn't matter. Right now, there's a cute guy flirting with him who also got him a drink.
Maybe Hope County won't be so bad. ]
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Well, it wasn't a yes, either. Which is fair, just saying.
He wants to be entirely sure before he puts all of his cards on the table (-not that he hasn't put most of them on there, but still-) Regardless of if the answer is yes or no, it's kind of... nice, to flirt casually. David is a fairly average young man in terms of sexual interest, and Tinder is useless out here in the sticks. (He tried it, just out of curiosity: the closest matches were between 50 and 100 miles away.) So when Nick smiles at him, he can't help but smile back, glancing away briefly. ]
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Holding the pad up next to his face, he smirks and makes a fist, moving it up and down like a nod. Yes, then. There's nothing to lose going home with him, whether it leads to sex or not, there's so much more appeal than sleeping in a musty barn with a bad draft and one blanket. ]
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Alright, can't argue with that.
He sips at his beer, pondering conversation. He's always been pretty decent at small talk, but something about flirting and knowing Nick is coming home with him has the deputy distracted.
So, tell me about yourself, other than 'Nick' and 'cute'.
If you want. ]
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My name is Nicholas Andros, I was born in Caslin, Nebraska. My dad had a heart attack and died before I was born and my mother was in a car accident, which made me the way that I am. I was sent to an orphanage. I ran away when I was sixteen, but I doubt they looked too hard- one less mouth to feed and one more bed to fill. I stayed out of trouble, took GED classes where I could. Saving up to take a college course or two when I can. Until then, I take odd jobs where I can and don't stay in one place too long.
Want to take 'cute' back yet, or is this just adding to my mysterious exterior? ]
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He reads over it, and the comment at the end earns a quiet chuckle. He wouldn't call it mysterious, but it certainly doesn't make him want to take his compliments back.
You'll have to try harder than that, sorry. I'm from the reservation up north, stories similar to yours aren't uncommon. My dad died from a heart attack too, when I was 11.
Do you know what you want to study in college? ]
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Haven't really thought about it. I want to help people, I just don't know in what capacity yet. If that makes sense?
Nick finishes off his beer, trying not to think too much about the future. He'll figure it out when he gets there. It will take him time anyway since he can only do one at a time without a consistent job. ]
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It does make sense. That's why I became a cop, actually. I want to be in the BIA one day.
Rook sees Nick finish his beer, and downs the rest of his own in a few gulps. Belatedly, he wonders if that seemed obvious, or desperate. Then he wonders if he's overthinking it.
Want another? Or had enough of the charm of a small town bar? ]
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He shakes his head, offering a thumbs up. He's good to go. Standing, Nick picks up his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, putting a few bills on the counter for his own beer and gives Mary May another thank you that she may or may not see. He heads for the door and waits for David outside.
Just in case he had to let someone know he was leaving. ]
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After a couple of 'hey, how are you's, Rook steps into the night air with a sigh. He finds Nick and offers a smile, then points towards the side of the building where he's parked.
Rook's ride is a 1981 Pygmalion Hillside 1600, with a cream and sienna paint job. It's old and clearly seen a lot, but it's also very clean for someone that lives in a place that has more dirt roads than asphalt, and appears to be in pretty good repair. He unlocks the door for Nick first and holds it open. He doesn't mind being a 'gentleman' in the traditional sense, but mostly it's just that the passenger door doesn't unlock from the driver's side. ]
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Nick gives him thanks, setting his bag on the floor between his feet before settling in and buckling his seatbelt. He's interested in seeing a little more of Hope County, even if it's just a few blocks. ]
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The drive itself is only a couple of minutes - Fall's End is tiny, and Rook definitely lives within easy walking distance. He'd only taken his truck to the Spread Eagle because he'd come straight from work with Pratt.
The house he drives up to is tiny, butter yellow, with flowering hanging baskets suspended from the porch. It doesn't exactly look like somewhere a young bachelor might live. Rook waits for Nick on the bottom step, and holds the door open for him once it's unlocked. Inside just makes it far more obvious how very unlike David this place is. It looks like a photo from the 60s or 70s of someone's grandmother's house. ]
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This guy is more wholesome than he has any right to be.
Nick looks out the window at the passing houses, taking in what little there was to Falls End, but finding that he quite likes the sleepy little town. He follows behind David when the truck stops, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Nodding his head in gratitude, he steps inside and looks around. It definitely doesn't look like a bachelor's pad, more like something off of The Brady Bunch, but it was also endearing. Turning to David, he spreads his fingers, and touching his forehead, bounces his hand away twice.
'Grandmother'? ]
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The house is, at least, immaculately clean. To the left, a little dining room table and beyond that, a kitchen with harvest gold and avocado everything. To the right, a living room with a shag carpet and mismatched, over-stuffed patterned couch and recliner. A bulky, somewhat ancient console television sits on the floor, with a newer model on top that is still about fifteen years out of date. Beyond the living room, a hallway that leads to a bathroom and the two bedrooms.
Rook looks back to Nick, and shakes his head. Landlady moved to an independent living facility when her husband died and left most of her furniture here. I'm pretty sure she's old enough to be my great-grandma, though. She comes by sometimes to collect rent and bring me food. I tell her I can cook but, once a grandma, always a grandma, I guess. And he doesn't mind. She's nice, and he didn't have the money to decorate a house yet anyway.
Make yourself at home. Bathroom is on the left, guest bedroom is at the end of the hallway. Want anything from the kitchen? ]
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We had a few church grandmothers stop by the orphanage pretty often to drop off casseroles and boxes of stuff from church drives. They never really seem to be able to help themselves and telling them to stop is like talking to a brick wall. Sometimes you have to just let them do their damage and say thank you. Or else, ha ha.
No, I'm good thanks. I'm going to go set my things down.
He nods at David, shuffling to the guest bedroom to at least stow his bag. The bedroom is modest and looks much the same as the rest of the house- outdated and overstuffed, but he's slept in far worse places than this. Hell, if he hadn't come back home with David, he'd be sleeping in Kellett's barn. Rejoining him, he leans against the entryway to the kitchen, watching his host silently. ]
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He gives a thumbs up to what Nick says next, and then sets about hanging up his belt, tugging off his boots, and storing his gun away in his bedroom, hidden in his nightstand. In the kitchen, he ponders one more beer, but decides against it, settling instead for a glass of water. He turns to find Nick watching him, and offers a smile... that turns pretty quickly into a cheeky grin.
Mind if I slip into something more comfortable? By which he means, he's just going to change out of his work clothes. These shirts don't iron themselves, despite how much polyester is probably in them. ]
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His eyebrows raise upward and he points to Rook. Keeping the same hand up, he turns his straightened finger into a crook, motioning downward. The same hand he turns into a thumbs up, his other hand underneath, raising up the other.
Do you need help? ]
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Oh. Oh.
Warmth floods his face to the tips of his ears. He's surprised, maybe, that Nick is so forward- though he reminds himself a moment later that he'd bought the man a drink and invited him to stay in his home. The offer of a room had been meant innocently. The drink... maybe a little less so, but he was fine with whatever tonight's outcome.
He grins, once he gets his wits together, and manages to sign in return: I wouldn't mind the help. ]
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This is a really nice change, though.
David is cute, and Nick really loves the way his entire face heats up when he's embarrassed. It means he'll have to tease him more in the future. He takes a few steps back toward the house's sitting room. Did they really want things to get started in the kitchen? ]
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And given that communication beyond 'yes' and 'no' might be difficult in the midst of things, Rook holds out his phone with another message.
Anything you want me to know? Preferences? That, strangely, he doesn't seem embarrassed about, more focused on Nick's comfort than anything. ]
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I'll be sure to let you know if I think of anything. What should I not do?
Nick's good to go with the flow. ]
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He'll keep his phone close by, just in case they need to parse anything out. Stopping to clarify wouldn't be the worst thing, if it gets that far. For now, he guides Nick to the bedroom, and pauses by the bedside. The room, for better or worse, matches the kind of charmingly outdated rest of the house. All of the room, that is, save for the bed linens: clearly new, and clearly picked out by David, white sheets and a comforter that is an unoffensive neutral grey on one side, and white on the other.
Lingering close and reaching to put a light hand along Nick's waist, David uses his other hand to point at the other man's chest, and gestures over his own face with two fingers in something approximating a circle. ]
You're handsome. [ He's doing his best with what little he's got, as far as ASL goes. ]
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Besides, Nick is pretty damn good at reading people. He wouldn't have flirted as hard with David if he hadn't meant it.
Reading his note quickly, Nick grins and spreads his fingers, touching his slightly-bent middle finger to his chin, twisting his hand outward, and then gestures to himself. Lucky me.
His hands slide up to the lapels of David's shirt, fingers wrapping into the stiff material. Nick reaches up to brush his index and middle fingers against David's chin. Definitely not calling him cute, nope. ]
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He tugs lightly on Nick's waist to draw the two of them closer, and leans in. A momentary pause, brown gaze flickering to meet Nick's, before David tips his head to press their lips together. It's a light brush at first, undemanding- almost as though testing the waters. It makes his stomach flip in a way that isn't unpleasant. It's a sensation he hasn't felt in... well, a while. ]
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Nick keeps one hand curled into David's uniform shirt, the other slides up to the side of his face. His thumb brushes over the plane of his cheekbone, the skin smooth and warm under his fingers. Taking it slow is nice, just letting the feeling simmer before things escalate. Even if this was all they did tonight, Nick can't really be disappointed.
Who could hate a makeout session? ]
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He moves slow, content with easy, light kisses for a few moments. Eventually, he slips both hands around Nick's waist, thumbs brushing upward along his side. Then, his lips part a little, tongue testing along the seam of Nick's lips. ]
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Whatever he anticipated in coming to Hope County, this certainly wasn't anywhere on his list. Not that he's complaining one bit. David's lips are warm and soft against his, tasting lightly of the beer they'd both been drinking not too long ago. His hands don't linger for too long, moving up the small of David's back and over his ribs. Nimble fingers work at the buttons of his uniform shirt. ]
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He can't help a little grin against the kiss, some combination of being playful, being pleased at the feeling of Nick undoing his buttons, and just... pleased in general that this is now (unexpectedly but delightfully) his night. ]
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He releases a hitched exhale when teeth graze his lip and he resists the urge to tear away the buttons remaining on David's shirt if only to get rid of the obstacle. Instead, he focuses his attention on that and divests him of the stiff olive fabric, throwing it into the corner.
Pulling back so he can catch his breath, he takes time to just drink a little more of David in. His fingers brush over the long, neat braid. The long hair suits him horribly well. He takes a moment to toss his own overshirt away, shoving the suspenders off his shoulders. ]
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When Nick breaks away, David does too, albeit a little reluctantly. He lets his hands linger on the other's hips, hooking one finger into a belt loop. Idly he wets his lip, as though tasting Nick's kiss still lingering. ]
In a hurry? [ He signs, and the curve of his mouth suggests he's just being mischievous about it, and he doesn't mind at all. In fact: ] I like it.
[ As if to prove his point, David tugs his undershirt up and off, discarding it off to the side. ]
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He's adorably handsome, Nick finds it incredibly unfair. To level the playing field, he releases David's nipple and discards his own undershirt, leveling him with a grave expression.
Pants now. ]
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His eyes close as the other teases his nipple, drawing in a slow breath and enjoying the sensation suddenly sparking in his nerves and the way it seems to warm him. He leans in, one hand cradling the other's face, and dips his head to press kisses along Nick's neck. Once or twice he grazes teeth instead, light and teasing, and lets the warmth of his slightly heavier breaths fall across the other's skin.
When he pulls back to watch Nick sign, it takes him just a second. He's not exactly sure what 'pants' is, but he can guess that's what it means - and he doesn't need to be told twice. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, just slow enough to be cheeky. ]