peace_inthe_violence

"Seven minutes? I'm getting sloppy." Booker shook his head, his bangs falling into his face for a moment before he had to toss his head back. "I definitely should've flirted sooner than that. Before you could expect it. Though, looking like that I bet you're always expecting it."

That was just wild flattery and meant more to make Joe laugh than actually seduce him. His heart raced from the practice and fuck, he was happy. Joe was his best friend and it was times like these when their humor lined up so perfectly that he felt it so strongly.

It was hard to believe he'd been in such a dark place when he felt this good.

It definitely earned him another laugh, "Alright, alright, no need to lay it on that thick, it's almost like you think I don't know when you're lying."

The fact that he hadn't been was inconsequential at the moment, aside from being likewise more teasing on Joe's part in return, "You're right on one thing, though, you are getting sloppy." A nod of his own head to indicate that toss of bangs even as he feinted another strike to see how well Booker was still paying attention, "About time for a trim."

Booker was paying attention but he was also laughing so he caught the blade just barely, getting nicked on the arm. Joe was definitely going to win this one but it didn't bother him that much.

"Are you offering to clean it up for me?" Booker shook his arm out as the wound healed. It still tingled and stung a little bit while it healed. "Because the sides really need to get trimmed too."

He used to have a nice fade before. It was a messy thing now.

"I wasn't not offering." He replied, because it was true, it had been one of those things he floated to see if anyone actually needed it before actually committing to it, "Might need a new electric clipper, pretty sure the one we have is still the one from, what was it? '53?"

The fact that the thing would probably still work was beside the point, just because it worked didn't mean they should be using it.

"Maybe after you're done kicking my ass here." Booker would trust ancient clippers. The worst they might take off too much hair or cut him but both of those problems would be solved with time.

Booker pushed the attack again ignoring any sort of hair that got in his way. "You could always use a sharp blade if you're worried about them."

He should worry about his appearance more. It was one of those things that fell by the wayside when darkness took him.

"Now that I am out of practice with." He replied, "Though the shears may still be in a drawer, and those will work just as well."

Another laugh followed, however, as he circled back to Booker's initial point, "And I've hardly gone that hard." Though his counterpoint to that attack was a little firmer and much more intent than the last had been, "But I could, if you like. Just so you can tell the difference."

Out of practice, Booker's ass. Joe was still quick and forceful. He hadn't lost a single inch of skill. The focus and intent fully on him now made Booker shift his attention away from quips and teasing to make sure he didn't get sliced open too badly.

The cuts were healed, of course, seconds after they happened but they still fucking hurt. These weren't practice swords.

"You have been much harder on me in the past." Okay, he wasn't giving up the teasing fully. It just wasn't in Booker's nature.

Using a sword for grooming was a skill he'd let fall by the wayside, there were better ways to do that now. Using a sword as a sword was a skill he'd held onto, no reason not to.

"I have, probably will again if you ask nicely." He replied, only barely managing to keep his smile in check, though he did manage not to laugh aloud, but the amusement was definitely still there all the same.

They fight for a few more minutes with Booker clearly the loser in the whole thing. The final blow slices across his chest lightly but that's what he gets for not wearing a shirt while they do this.

"Alright, alright, alright," Booker said as he raised a hand and signaled for the training to end. His wound was healed before he even finished the words. They had done a good job of keeping the injuries light, no need to regrow tendons or wait for guts to roll back in.

Booker felt the ache in his arms and shoulders though. He had a better handle on his saber but he would really need to practice more. Luckily, they were on vacation and he would have the time.

"Not bad for years of no practice." He offered a grin in Joe's direction. "Right?"

"Not bad for decades out of practice." He replied, "But just alright for years without." It was absolutely a tease, but one of the ones that had a kernel of truth to it, and that was because Booker had asked, and Joe was nothing if not truthful in his opinions.

He rolled a shoulder, an easy stretch, "I did have to put some actual effort in." Which he hadn't been expecting, though he wasn't going to say as much, "So maybe not that bad for years, either."

Booker sat down on a bench and stretched his arms over his head. He rested the saber next to him and would clean it in a minute when he caught his breath.

"As long as I can test you still, that's worth something." He picked up a water bottle and drank deeply for a few swallows before he held it out to Joe. "Want to keep helping me get in shape? At least until I can take on Nicky."

And once he could fight Nicky and win, Booker could then move on to Andy. That was a sure way to get himself back into fighting shape.

He laughed warmly at the question, even as he accepted the water, taking a long drink himself before answering, "Working your way up the food chain, smart thinking."

A nod followed, handing the water back, "But I can get you back up to being ready to take Nicky on for sure."

"I'm the brains of the operation," he said with a little smirk. Booker did have a fairly tactical mind but this was simple logic. Start with a sword fighter willing to take mercy on him and work his way up the chain of ruthlessness.

He bows his head forward to pour some water across the back of his neck and then rub it across his shoulder. He immediately felt cooler and breathed a little easier. "...thank you. For more than the training. I know I haven't been myself for... a long time."

And his friend stuck with him. Still cared about him. Booker was grateful. Touched. There was a lot.

"More the brains than some of us, yes." He agreed, easy and amused. Though he sobered a little once more at the rest, nodding slowly, "You don't always make yourself an easy man to love. But we do. I do."

It wasn't the same nigh-depthless well that he had for Nicky, but it was no less rue and no less fierce.

He edged forward, reaching out to tug lightly at the spill of overgrown bangs across Booker's brow, "I know it's often easier to believe your own mind even when it lies than it is to believe what the rest of us are telling you, but I want you to hold onto this truth since I know you will her it now. You are one of us, for better or for worse, we are here for you as we hope that you are for us. You are, and will always be, welcome where we are."

Another little tug, both brows lifting, "Do you hear me?"

"I hear you."

Right now, those words settled in his mind and heart. It filled him with warmth and a steadiness. It wouldn't last. Booker knew that. He could be dragged down into the darkness pretty easily.

And then he'd doubt the words. He'd wonder and second guess. This time had let him think and realize just how treacherous his mind was. How bad it was for his heart.

"But... if it gets bad, I'll need you all to see it. I won't make it easy." He looked over at Joe with a sad little smile. "But I love you all deeply. That never changes."

"We all know what to watch for now." He replied, just ruffling his hand through Booker's hair, and while keeping an eye on him without hovering would be a balance they'd have to find both individually and as a group, Joe had faith that they could do so.

His tone had gone to mostly-gentle teasing once more as he asked: "So are you done self-flagellating out here? Can we go inside and see if we can't do something about that rat's nest on your head?"

Booker rolled his eyes. "I'm staying in shape."

This was exercise and work, not hurting himself. That was done with drinking and isolation. He shoved Joe's shoulder as he got to his feet.

"Yeah, let's try and tame this mess." He ran his fingers through his hair. It was sweaty and dirty and a mess. It did need some help.

He laughed at the shove, just nodding, "No, no you're right, if that's what you were doing you'd have taken a run at Andy first."

Maybe, he doubted even Booker in a mood was that kind of stupid, "Go on and take a shower, I'll see if I can find the shears, otherwise we're doing this with a straight razor and the kitchen scissors."

"That's very true." Joe knew him too well Booker thought but he didn't need to say that.

He waved instead of answering and went straight for the shower. He made sure it was nice and hot and spent extra long scrubbing at his hair. It really was too long and too shaggy.

Booker just kept seeing little signs of how he stopped taking care of himself.

After the shower he searched out Joe to see if he had found any clippers or a razor. Whatever his friend used it would be better than the edge of a sword.

Joe had taken a quick shower himself before he'd started his search, nothing intense, just something to get the sweat and remaining blood off.

He had, in fact, found the shears, although he'd brought out the straight razor as well for the edges. He'd also taken the time to spread a towel between the back of a chair and the table to act as a catchall, one that would later be shaken out at the edge of the garden so the birds had some variety in nesting materials.

He cocked his head towards the chair when Booker arrived, "Have a seat, let's see what we can do."

Booker sat in the chair and tilted his head back, eyeing Joe and eyeing the tools. "Looks like you found everything you needed."

Then he sat forward. He briefly combed his hair with his fingers then settled his hands in his lap. Joe knew what he was doing.

"You know how I like it," he teased with a little smirk. "Go ahead."

Maybe it wasn't smart to taunt the man who was about to cut his hair but Booker couldn't help himself. Half his relationship with Joe was teasing each other.

Joe laughed warmly at the tease, nodding at the first statement, because he'd definitely found everything.

His brow creased a little at the statement that followed, "Yeah I do. Same as it is now, only shorter." His tone was level, even puzzled, but there was amusement behind his eyes, "You're just lucky I actually know what I'm doing."

And he did, going for the 'shorter' part first, followed by making sure it was more or less the right shape before trimming down to the proper short length and then cleaning up the edges once that was done.

"I'd just shave it off if you weren't around to handle it for me. Look like I did in Vietnam." Booker had adopted the military 'jar head' look then. Those steamy jungles hadn't been comfortable with long hair and it helped him blend in when they made their way through military units.

No one looked twice at a brawny guy with a shaved head and a stolen Marine uniform.

He watched the strands fall to the floor with a strange sense of... relief. Booker could see the proof he was looking after himself now. That was good. That was a step away from the darkness that threatened to drown him.

He snorted at that response, shaking his head, "That wasn't a good look for any of us." A pause, considering, head tilting a little as he made sure his lines were even as he added: "Andy maybe, but certainly not the rest of us."

Granted, being a good look was beside the point, it was a look that had done what it was supposed to in that they hadn't ever been questioned about their presence, and that was good enough for him.

He ruffled a hand through Booker's hair, shaking loose some of the shorn ends and making sure he hadn't taken anything down too short, nodding as he stepped back, "Think that's it."

Booker caught Joe's hand as he pulled away from his hair and drew it back in. He pressed a kiss to the meaty part of his palm. When was the last time he showed Joe this kind of easy affection? He couldn't quite remember which meant it had probably been awhile.

"Perfect, like always." He released his hand and stood up. "Knew I could trust you."

Hopefully, Joe caught the undercurrent of meaning that was more than a haircut. Booker was coming back to himself, coming back to his family and their love for him. He would trust that going forward.

Or God help him, he'd just lose his fucking mind the whole way.

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nicely_tousled - 2020-12-12 04:46 (UTC) - Expand

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