number1_himbo | (no subject)

If Luther's honest with himself, there's not a lot of nights he's enjoyed as much as that night at the club. If he's even more honest, it's because of what had happened after the club, where for once his brain had shut off in just the right way and allowed him to take a near stranger home and actually enjoy it, this time. He thinks it had been a mutually enjoyable experience.

Really, he thinks that despite how inexperienced he is, and that he'd never really given too much conscious thought to having sex with another man-- he thinks it was good.

And he thinks about it a lot, spending a couple weeks with staring at Neil's contact in his phone and thinking about that night.

Luther doesn't really stop thinking about it, until he finally, very carefully types a message to Neil, saying that he'd like to see him again. He can only hope he didn't wait too long.

Either way, when they're finally set to meet up in the park, where there's coffee and ice cream and maybe even food trucks, it's about a month later and while Luther remains aware of implications down the road, he honestly does just want to see Neil again, to talk to him.

And yeah, the other stuff, but Luther only looks like a wild ape-man. He has self-control.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'd be lying if I'd said I hadn't thought about him. It was a good night, and a really good fuck, and I'd already decided that night that there would eventually be a next time. But when I got his text, I was in the middle of class, and putting it off to finish my notes became putting it off for later that night, became putting it off for two more weeks.

I didn't think about why. I didn't think about the fact that I was experienced in so much shit, that I hadn't been self-conscious about sex since I was fifteen, that I'd been married and divorced, but I still didn't know how to do this the regular fucking way.

Sitting on top of a picnic table with my feet on the bench seat, I lifted a hand in a casual wave when I saw him coming. It was impossible not to see him coming. People got out of the fucking way, people turned to look. One corner of my mouth curved up in a smirk.

Luther knows he's mostly scattering the-- well, they always turn into onlookers. He can't blame them for scattering, because while he's looking forward to this, he's also nervous, and he doesn't wear nervous well. There's a moment where he feels like he's truly thundering down the path, and then he spots Neil.

His massive frame eases in the way it's tensed, and he gives Neil a goofy half-grin.

"Hey," he says, when he's close enough that he's not going to accidentally add shouting to the reason people are staring. "It's good to see you."

God, he was ridiculous.

I grinned back helplessly, half annoyed that I found his whole thing sorta charming.

"Sure," I agreed, hopping down off the table and crossing the distance between us. Hooking a finger in the front of his shirt, I gave him a tug. "Come on, let's get a drink."

It could be a problem, how easily Neil can lead him around with just a crooked finger. Luther goes easily, cheerfully, and at least the park as a whole calms to see he’s being managed.

“A drink sounds good,” he agrees. “I didn’t exactly... I haven’t done this a lot, which I’m sure isn’t a surprise.” But what he has realized is he’d like to try it. “Living on the moon so long, and the time travel....”

"Done what, had a drink?" I asked, playing dumb as I looked back at him over my shoulder.

Then, with a shrug, I admitted, "Might be a surprise, but I haven't, either."

“I’ve had a drink,” Luther says, “but it can take a lot of them.” He’s still fighting the broadness of his own grin.

He glances at Neil then, looking just as relieved as he is surprised. “Oh,” he says. “I guess it’s surprising, maybe. We could figure this out. Are we going on a date now?” He’s only mortified by his own awkwardness for a few seconds, at least. “I just could ask differently, if I need to. Next time.”

"We're getting drinks. Beyond that, man, I don't know," I admitted, hands in my pockets as we made our way to one of the food trucks serving beer.

"I'm, uh. I just got out of a divorce. Or, it's been... nearly a year, since we split. And before you call me out for saying I haven't done this much, I haven't. It was... I don't know. We did everything sort of out of order."

Luther nods, relieved to see it's one of the trucks that will serve the size cup that fits his hand better. Getting drunk, or really even buzzed, isn't a priority now, but he hats when his hands have nothing to do, just hand at his sides and make him look even more ape-like.

"I don't think I can call anyone out for that," Luther says. "Living in a giant house with my adult siblings is actually growth for me. And even if I could..." He shrugs. "Sequential order can be a bitch, but I'm saying that because my dad gave us all numbers and didn't call us anything else."

"Your dad called you by numbers?" I asked, ordering a tray of brisket nachos and a beer. Coming from anyone else, I would've figured it was a joke, because it sounded too fucked up and ridiculous to be true... But on top of the fact that he didn't seem like the type to make shit up like that, there was Five...

Christ, what a weird fucking family.

"What was yours?"

"Number One," Luther says, trying not to wince outright. "I was supposed to be the leader, and I don't think any of us knows exactly how he decided to number us. For a while, as a kid, I thought it meant I was his favorite, but I'm guessing it had to do with how useful I was to him."

He's distracted by putting in his own order for a beer and a pretzel sandwich of some sort.

"Whatever the reason, it worked. I was the one who stayed."

"Jesus Christ," I said, standing off to the side, where we could wait for our food.

"So, why the fuck does Five still go by his number, and the rest of you don't?"

"Anyone's guess," Luther answers. "He's always been--"

He hesitates while he thinks of the right thing to say here.

"Focused, I guess. On his powers and what he could do. On the possibilities. That's how the whole time-traveling thing happened. He was determined to do it, and no one was going to tell him otherwise."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I said with a snort of laughter. "I met him on his first day. I mean, sort of. He swung an axe at me and then lost interest in anything I had to say after about thirty seconds. It's kinda hard to imagine him with a family. Or like, what the fuck he does with his free time."

Luther grins, amused and affectionate. "I was with him right before I got here. A couple of-- with the Five we have here and then his younger self but in his older body, and at least back home, you can't be near your self from another point in time without suffering paradox psychosis. So I got here and was scared shitless he was out murdering people." All of this rolls out in an absolutely fond way.

"I guess it works out because we're not really a traditional family."