"No," Drake replies simply, with a little shrug. "I brought it up, he actually seemed kinda wary at first. Like maybe he thought I was offering to make him happy? I dunno."
It doesn't really matter, does it? Things went how they went, and he leaned on Jesus too much either way. K's next question feels more important, especially since it's the same answer to both questions.
"We figure out how we relate to each other. That's what's gonna change."
K wasn't there. He doesn't have an opinion on what might have been behind that wariness, doesn't know exactly what was said and how, so he lets it go. It doesn't matter anyway.
Very little, if any, of it mattered apparently. He swallows, considers not answering just to fill space again, but in the end he does need to know:
Drake has to think about that before he says anything, because he hasn't really figured that out yet. After a moment he decides the only answer he's got is honesty. That's usually a good starting point for him anyway, even if it's not super reassuring.
"I guess I won't be asking him to help make sure you're doing okay anymore, or for advice on how not to screw up... I'm probably just gonna screw up directly. Sorry in advance." It's a weak, almost sheepish joke, but he's trying. In more ways than one.
"I don't need to be taken care of," K points out after a long moment considering that.
"I don't need you to never make a mistake. I'm not that fucking fragile."
He says it as calmly as anything else, but he never swears; it's a brief, blink and you'll miss it glimpse of the anger he never lets show because he doesn't want anyone to be afraid of him. Because it's dangerous for everyone to be afraid of him.
But the scale seems to have gone in the other direction. "I need to not be lied to, or if it has to be a lie, don't tell me that it's not. I need you to understand that I am alone here, and that means something. It means a lot. I can't explain it any plainer than that."
Although he doesn't miss the flash of anger, Drake doesn't seem scared of it. If anything his reaction is a strange... his mouth twists into a small, bitter smile.
"No, you don't. I'm not worried about fucking up because I think you're fragile, K. But I hear you." He exhales, looking back up to meet K's gaze properly again. "I think I can handle that."
"Then we should be fine," is his conclusion, even though no part of him feels settled. He's still processing what he's been told, what any of this means, and feeling things bubbling up that are both unexpected and, he knows, temporary.
That makes two of them. Drake doesn't feel settled either, and he's definitely not okay, but if nothing else he understands K needing time to process. His expression warms back up at the question.
"Take it. And thank you, for being honest with me." Hopefully they'll muddle through it alright. This world's been giving him a lot of practice at moderating expectations, that's for sure, but Drake's still hoping. "He does wants to talk to you, too. I guess you can call him when you're ready? Or don't, but in that case he'll probably try to contact you."
"I expect so, yes," K agrees, his voice toneless. Unless Jesus is full on panicking, or maybe if there were a way to get away from this city and this place, he expects that eventually the other man will want to say something. All K had to do is wait.
He pulls on Mango's leash then, pairs it with calling for her, low but firm. She's reluctant, and she doesn't actually do more than glance back at K before back to Sable, but she does let herself be pulled away.
Drake lifts his free hand and gives a little wave, hoping that's true. The 'soon' part. They might have different criteria for it, after all... but he can be patient. He watches K turn away and his back as he leads Mango down the path, worry twisting in the pit of his stomach.
It's only once the other man is out of sight that he decides he might as well go for a proper walk himself. Being alone in his apartment isn't great for him, that's been true since before Jesus decided anything. Maybe he'll line up some plans besides work for the next few days so he's out as much as possible, while things settle. But he has a feeling he's going to be checking his phone constantly, just to make sure he didn't miss anything from K.
Stick with him on this, buddy. It doesn't have to be the end of the world.
Jesus does come and talk to K. It's hard, but it's not the end of the world. It takes two days total for K to contact Drake again, to let him know he's ready to talk again.
He doesn't have Mango with him this time. He walks with a cigarette in hand, but puts it out before he has to go inside the building, before he has to speak with anyone.
He looks about the same as he did last time, except more settled into it. Quiet, in a way that's different from his usual quiet; self-contained, hands in his pockets and eyes around rather than on people.
"How are you?" he leads with, knowing Jesus had planned to talk to him again, too.
The first thing Drake notices when he lets K in is the way the other man doesn't quite look at him. The second is the hint of smoke around him as he walks past. Drake closes the door and gestures for K to go on ahead and settle in the living room.
"I'm processing," he answers, since this isn't supposed to be about him. "I never knew you smoked. We-- I've got some, if you want."
"After shift," he shrugs, because that's usually when he does smoke. "With dinner, usually."
And when stressed, because as it turns out, the world can be dead and the population slowly sickening, starving, and dying, but they'll still figure out how to kill themselves faster.
"...I don't, not really. Not since high school. But my partner did." Drake's been going through them very slowly, and doesn't intend to buy more but can't bring himself to throw these away either.
He detours to the kitchen, opening a drawer and pulling out a pack, lighter, and ash tray.
That was more or less the answer he expected, but he didn't want to ask outright in case he was wrong. He nods, mostly to himself, and pulls his little battered cigarette tin out of his pocket to consider.
Drake opens the fridge and grabs two bottles of beer for them, then heads out onto the balcony. It's a decent enough day and he's got two chairs out here. He claims the far one, setting everything down on the little metal table between them and opening K's beer for him by bracing the bottlecap on the edge of it and smacking down. The motion is smooth and practiced and he repeats it with his own, then lights a cigarette and places the pack in between them in case K wants to help him with these.
K likes sitting outside, likes that Drake chose it; he follows and settles in the other chair, pausing only to shrug his duty coat off, drape it over the back. He doesn't mind that it's long enough to drag the ground. It's been through worse.
He sits for a moment, scanning what he can see around them, before his attention catches on the cigarettes again. He does, eventually, reach over to pull one out for himself but doesn't light it, not yet.
He smiles, a little, when he sees the ease with which Drake opens the bottles; he balances his own on his knee, and considers what to say next.
"You said we needed to learn how to communicate without Jesus as a safety net. That you didn't want things to change between us. And that you didn't know the reasons I signed with you that weren't predicated on Jesus, specifically. Does all that still apply?"
"Mostly," Drake agrees, settling back in his seat and exhaling his first puff of smoke into the wind. "It's normal if things change between us -- I expect them to, over time. I just didn't want you to think that Jesus breaking our contract meant anything had to. Like if you were still comfortable with me, I wasn't about to change the terms or say when we're up we're up, you know? Otherwise, yeah. All that's right."
Without knowing where K is going with this, Drake only felt the need to clarify that one point. He lifts the smoke back to his lips and inhales as he waits for the other man to continue, the fingers of his other hand tracing the raised lettering on his beer bottle.
"I'm comfortable with you," K agrees, although he rather suspects it hasn't come off that way because: "It's always been the rules that were the problem."
Rules that he's always aware of, that he can't not be aware of in the same way that he wants to point out that Jesus didn't break contract but simply exercised his right not to renew, as far as K knows. He doesn't because he's also learned that most people don't live to the letter, most aren't even aware of the letter, and he's never been able to explain that to people born with free will and the ability to exercise it effortlessly.
"I don't know what to do here, Drake. That's the honest truth. I - the contracts have been hard for me from the beginning. Nothing that's happened in my experience with them has really changed that, including a man who promised that whatever happened, good or bad, I wouldn't be alone in it." He rolls the cigarette between his fingers.
"Except I'm not alone in it. You're in it, too. And nothing bad has happened, not really. It's old experience informing how this feels."
K wouldn't be the first to correct Drake on the language he uses -- communication has never been his strong suit, he's better at showing meaning through his actions -- and he's absolutely correct. Literally speaking the contract wasn't broken, it just ran out. But something was broken. The understanding between him and Jesus, and the trust between Jesus and K. So while he'd take a correction well, he doesn't mean to misrepresent anything.
It's nuanced, but he's trying. And when K does speak again Drake listens intently, nodding only when he's sure the other man is done for the moment.
"You're gonna feel how you feel, K. I don't think anybody in the history of consciousness has ever really had control over that, no matter what they try. If you want my opinion?" He pauses there for a moment to wait for a dismissal, and when it doesn't come he offers it, honest and simple. "Follow them, without worrying about it being logical or whatever. What do you want? If resigning doesn't feel right when we're up, you can try somebody else or take another grace period... how you're feeling is more important than the rules, and your life before here is always gonna influence them. Whatever happens, whoever you're signed with, make sure they understand that."
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It doesn't really matter, does it? Things went how they went, and he leaned on Jesus too much either way. K's next question feels more important, especially since it's the same answer to both questions.
"We figure out how we relate to each other. That's what's gonna change."
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Very little, if any, of it mattered apparently. He swallows, considers not answering just to fill space again, but in the end he does need to know:
"How does that change for you?"
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"I guess I won't be asking him to help make sure you're doing okay anymore, or for advice on how not to screw up... I'm probably just gonna screw up directly. Sorry in advance." It's a weak, almost sheepish joke, but he's trying. In more ways than one.
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"I don't need you to never make a mistake. I'm not that fucking fragile."
He says it as calmly as anything else, but he never swears; it's a brief, blink and you'll miss it glimpse of the anger he never lets show because he doesn't want anyone to be afraid of him. Because it's dangerous for everyone to be afraid of him.
But the scale seems to have gone in the other direction. "I need to not be lied to, or if it has to be a lie, don't tell me that it's not. I need you to understand that I am alone here, and that means something. It means a lot. I can't explain it any plainer than that."
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"No, you don't. I'm not worried about fucking up because I think you're fragile, K. But I hear you." He exhales, looking back up to meet K's gaze properly again. "I think I can handle that."
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"Would you mind if I took a little bit to think?"
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"Take it. And thank you, for being honest with me." Hopefully they'll muddle through it alright. This world's been giving him a lot of practice at moderating expectations, that's for sure, but Drake's still hoping. "He does wants to talk to you, too. I guess you can call him when you're ready? Or don't, but in that case he'll probably try to contact you."
K should be prepared for that, he figures.
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He pulls on Mango's leash then, pairs it with calling for her, low but firm. She's reluctant, and she doesn't actually do more than glance back at K before back to Sable, but she does let herself be pulled away.
"I'll be in contact soon."
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It's only once the other man is out of sight that he decides he might as well go for a proper walk himself. Being alone in his apartment isn't great for him, that's been true since before Jesus decided anything. Maybe he'll line up some plans besides work for the next few days so he's out as much as possible, while things settle. But he has a feeling he's going to be checking his phone constantly, just to make sure he didn't miss anything from K.
Stick with him on this, buddy. It doesn't have to be the end of the world.
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He doesn't have Mango with him this time. He walks with a cigarette in hand, but puts it out before he has to go inside the building, before he has to speak with anyone.
He looks about the same as he did last time, except more settled into it. Quiet, in a way that's different from his usual quiet; self-contained, hands in his pockets and eyes around rather than on people.
"How are you?" he leads with, knowing Jesus had planned to talk to him again, too.
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"I'm processing," he answers, since this isn't supposed to be about him. "I never knew you smoked. We-- I've got some, if you want."
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And when stressed, because as it turns out, the world can be dead and the population slowly sickening, starving, and dying, but they'll still figure out how to kill themselves faster.
"I didn't know you smoked," he counters.
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He detours to the kitchen, opening a drawer and pulling out a pack, lighter, and ash tray.
"You want something to drink?"
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"Sure. Anything is fine."
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"So you've had some time to think?"
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K likes sitting outside, likes that Drake chose it; he follows and settles in the other chair, pausing only to shrug his duty coat off, drape it over the back. He doesn't mind that it's long enough to drag the ground. It's been through worse.
He sits for a moment, scanning what he can see around them, before his attention catches on the cigarettes again. He does, eventually, reach over to pull one out for himself but doesn't light it, not yet.
He smiles, a little, when he sees the ease with which Drake opens the bottles; he balances his own on his knee, and considers what to say next.
"You said we needed to learn how to communicate without Jesus as a safety net. That you didn't want things to change between us. And that you didn't know the reasons I signed with you that weren't predicated on Jesus, specifically. Does all that still apply?"
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Without knowing where K is going with this, Drake only felt the need to clarify that one point. He lifts the smoke back to his lips and inhales as he waits for the other man to continue, the fingers of his other hand tracing the raised lettering on his beer bottle.
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Rules that he's always aware of, that he can't not be aware of in the same way that he wants to point out that Jesus didn't break contract but simply exercised his right not to renew, as far as K knows. He doesn't because he's also learned that most people don't live to the letter, most aren't even aware of the letter, and he's never been able to explain that to people born with free will and the ability to exercise it effortlessly.
"I don't know what to do here, Drake. That's the honest truth. I - the contracts have been hard for me from the beginning. Nothing that's happened in my experience with them has really changed that, including a man who promised that whatever happened, good or bad, I wouldn't be alone in it." He rolls the cigarette between his fingers.
"Except I'm not alone in it. You're in it, too. And nothing bad has happened, not really. It's old experience informing how this feels."
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It's nuanced, but he's trying. And when K does speak again Drake listens intently, nodding only when he's sure the other man is done for the moment.
"You're gonna feel how you feel, K. I don't think anybody in the history of consciousness has ever really had control over that, no matter what they try. If you want my opinion?" He pauses there for a moment to wait for a dismissal, and when it doesn't come he offers it, honest and simple. "Follow them, without worrying about it being logical or whatever. What do you want? If resigning doesn't feel right when we're up, you can try somebody else or take another grace period... how you're feeling is more important than the rules, and your life before here is always gonna influence them. Whatever happens, whoever you're signed with, make sure they understand that."