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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"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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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."