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[thewordofweb]

The day has been something of a mockery for me. I've spent the majority of it trying to ignore people and tugging on a skirt that seems too short and a sweater that seems too tight and inevitably, I simply end up with my journal in the gazebo of the Homestead, curled up on the bench-swing and writing at length about the day. My feet are bare and I still feel too much like Alice down a rabbit hole.

I doubt that's going to change, at this pace.

I had considered heading to the boat and perhaps holding up in the bed there, where no one could find me, but I owe Joe for his kindness and moreso for his restraint. I can glimpse at his head of hair through the kitchen window and when the sun begins its slow decline in the sky, I pick my way up and head around the front to head into the kitchen and stand behind Joe, tugging lightly at his hair, trying to ignore the fresh smell to him that says he's recently showered. Not to mention I try to ignore the way the dark-blue button down sits on him. "Hey, Lieb," I greet, casual as I can. "You eaten yet?"

Comments

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

Joe tips his head back, looking up at Web, a view that's mostly, from this angle, tit, and he's got to admit - it's through a sheer force of will that he doesn't flush, because he's going to take what he was thinking about jerking off in the shower with him to the grave.

"Not yet," he says, shaking his head, a strand of wet hair falling across his forehead. "That the cue to get my ass out of my chair and start cooking?"

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

"More a grander comment and a gesture on my part of asking you to have dinner with me, maybe," I admit with that usual edge of social awkwardness that isn't any kind of new. "Sort of a thank you for what you did for me earlier." Honestly, I'd kept waiting for more mockery and when it never came, I'd genuinely been shocked. "I might have made something up at the Compound for it, already."

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

Well, he can't exactly say no to that, can he? Not if Web's been cooking. Anyway, Joe can't remember the last time he sat down with a woman and ate...Might be nice, even if it's Webster.

He nods, getting up out of his chair, hands finding a place in the back pockets of his jeans.

"Whaddya fancy, Webster?"

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

"You're the big, talented chef," I comment, most of it done mockingly, the edges of my voice hanging with a teasing note. "All I did was a simple dessert." As I speak, I'm winding my hair back to keep out of the way, something for my fingers to do without pockets to turn to and with cigarettes so far out of reach. "Surprise me," I eventually determine and honest to god, have to remind myself that it's just a thank-you.

Joe's seen it all, anyway. There's no mystery left for him and beyond that, he knows that beyond the veil of a disguise, it's still just me. We're safe. We are.

(Though maybe we would be safer, I think, if last night hadn't gone the way it had) "I'll get drinks?" I offer.

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

"You get drinks. I'll come up with something."

Joe whistles while he cooks. He always has. He moves around the kitchen like he's supposed to be there. He learned to cook when he was a kid. He didn't learn to be a soldier until later.

What he throws together isn't much; salad, thick cut fries, steak of some kind or another, but it's food he couldn't even have dreamed of in Europe, and it's food he's cooking for himself.

And it looks pretty good if he does say so himself.

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

The one place I know will have liquor is by Captain Nixon's place and it's a very quick meeting there with Buck Compton, of all people, before I come back with a bottle of red and one of white in my hands, quietly making my re-entrance to the Homestead and I lean in the door for a long moment, wishing that I could put these feelings aside and box them up, label them 'Impossible' and 'Stupid', not to mention reckless.

Joe Liebgott wants a future with a woman and children, a large home and happiness. And this place might afford temporary reliefs, but nothing so permanent and certainly not like this. Still, that doesn't mean I can't watch him and hope that what I'm doing will change things. That it will give him a chance. "Here," I finally speak up, my voice low and almost hoarse. "Wine."

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

"For once, your timing's perfect, Webster," says Joe, but there's no malice in it. He quirks a little smile. "It ain't much, but it'll do, right?"

He wipes his hands on the cloth draped over his shoulder.

"I gotta pull your chair out for ya?"

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

All I do is shoot looks to the doors all around, of the possibility of people wandering in when I want to discuss more personal matters. "Your place," I say, already shifting the bottles of wine to grab a couple plates and the food to help tote it along. "Or mine, I'm not picky," I add as an afterthought, just so he knows that all I want is privacy. "And no, Joe, I'm not actually a woman," I note with a smirk. "You can continue to be your usual Joe Liebgott self."

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

"My usual Joe Liebgott self who cooks for you and picks out panties?"

Joe smirks and picks up both plates, utensils tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

"I don't know, you seemed pretty keen on folding my underwear this morning," I comment in retort, voice as condescending as it gets and for a moment, I hear myself in there so easily that it's like nothing is different. I lead the way and nudge my way into Joe's room, setting the wine and the food on the floor, where there's the most space to spread out and eat.

Absentmindedly, I grasp one of Joe's blankets and set it down as a mock picnic-setting, settling myself down on it and picking at the lace panties in the meanwhile.

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

"That's because you live in a pig-sty," says Joe, grinning as he gets down onto his knees and sets the plates down, one in front of Web, the other in front of himself.

He watches Web adjust his underwear for a second.

"Ladylike."

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

"You gave me lace," I accuse with a roll of my eyes. "You try wearing tight briefs of lace and then show me ladylike behavior." Then, this is the same Liebgott who spits, so it's not as if I'm expecting decency of him at any time. I lean forward to uncork the red, wiggling the cork out and setting it aside, pouring a hefty glass because after the day I've had, I deserve it.

Joe gets the bottle next, so he can figure out just how much he wants. I pop a fry into my mouth, grabbing at Joe's behind to yank the cutlery out and smile a sweet and innocent little bit of a thing when it could honestly be misconstrued as me groping him. I'm already half into my glass and well into my steak, mostly ignoring Joe for the food because honest to god, I'm starving and good food and better wine is just about the best thing going for this place.

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

Joe's up on his knees, still settling and he's pretty sure that Web just groped his ass when he reached around him, but he ain't gonna say anythin'. He's mostly concentrating on the shadows between Web's tits.

It's a world of trouble.

He gets comfortable on the floor though and starts eating. He ain't sure what's better; decent hot food, or wine. He'd prefer beer but, shit, he'll take the wine.

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

The food's gone before I really even realize how hungry I was. Maybe part of it is just that Joe really is a good cook underneath it all and I'm happy to indulge. Steak, fries, some (a lot of) salad and I'm setting an empty plate aside only something like ten minutes later, glass still affixed in hand firmly and empty now, ready for a refill.

As I pour, I settle with my back to Joe's bed, feeling more relaxed now and draping an arm idly over the covers, giving him a half-grin. "So, I ran into Buck. Or, rather, Buck got me the wine," I say lazily, shifting the arm back down to my side as I drink. "He's, you know, like me, too. A girl. Says baseball is tomorrow."

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

Joe raises both eyebrows, halfway through a sip from his glass and smirks at Web, leaning back against the bed beside him, one leg bed up, his arm looped around it.

"You're gonna need another bra, Web."

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

"So you'll get me another bra," I tease with that same angelic smile as I sip at the wine and set the half-empty glass down out of spill's reach, giving Joe a broad grin and a bubble of a tipsy laugh. "I mean, you don't have anything better to do, right? Unless," I say, still laughing, though I'm trying to feign seriousness. "Unless, am I keeping you from things? People? Women?" I can't help but ask, tipping my head to one side as I pick up one hand and lightly tap at Joe's denim-covered knee, fingers gently circling there. "You don't feel like taking a crack at Buck?"

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

Watching Web's fingers moving against the knee of his jeans and raises one eyebrow.

"Firstly, no. YOu're not keeping me from women." He holds his glass out for more wine. "Secondly, Jesus Christ, are you mad? No, I'm not cracking on to Buck."

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

I lean back with more grace than I expected to have and find the bottle, pouring with steady fingers to top off Joe's glass and do the same to my own, crossing arms this way and that in order to drink a little more (though my fingers, thumb and index, are still rubbing little circles, now above the knee). "Mm," I mumble, after a sip of red wine that taints my lips and teeth with tannins. "What, Joe Liebgott, not wanting to pursue women?" I comment dubiously. "And here I had you fixed in my mind as a lothario."

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

"Gimme a few days to find my feet, Web," Joe promises, taking another swallow from his win glass, not looking at Web's hand on his knee, not concentrating on that at all, and not thinking about his hands on Web's tits, no Sir.

"Maybe the scenary'll change and I'll have to go further from home."

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

Idly, almost as if fully fueled by the wine, my hand becomes a palm and light fingertips slowly descend down that leg up to his thigh, staring at the little indentations of fabric it makes. "When's the last time you had sex, Joe?" I mumble curiously, eyes half-lidded as my other hand attaches to the wineglass and takes a deep drink of it, setting it back on wooden slats before I turn back to look at him.

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

Okay, so the world drops away just then and Joe's back pinned against the wall and he hasn't got an idea what's going on here anymore. He fights against how good Web's hand feels there, and how much better it would feel just a little bit higher.

He takes a long swallow of his wine.

"Aldborne. There was a girl who lived above that...fish-shop...thing."

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

I give a quiet sound because it confirms what I'd thought. That I've had it more recently, but that's all thanks to rehabilitation and too long in the hospital. "Fuck. Fuck!" I curse, as if something's suddenly occurred to me and my hand's off him and I'm downing the wine, leaning forward to the little table I'm using for the desk, crawling on all fours to reach up for the bowl. "I almost forgot," I say, leaning it back and digging up the spoons. "Told you I made something." It's small concession, but I want him to know I've contributed in some way.

I ease back to my spot with a little slide, unwrapping the plastic atop the dessert and pushing a spoon in, idly stirring it up and staring inside. It's another long pause before I speak again and I've only decided ont he courage of alcohol in my stomach. "Joe," I mumble, distractedly. "Why'd you kiss me?"

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

He finds himself watching Web stirring the pudding for a long time while he tries to think of an answer for that question. It's not like he hasn't asked himself the exact same damn thing.

"I don't know he says," quietly and takes a swallow of his wine. "I...I wanted you to stop. And you were right there."

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

I nod, as if accepting it. Of course, I think it's bullshit, but then, maybe Joe really is just so confused up in the head that he doesn't know any better. The spoon is lifted and I take a taste of it before setting it back down and pick up the wine again to quell those voices in my head telling me to ask more, to talk more. This isn't the time.

Instead, I drink heavily at the wine and end up half-turned to Joe, legs splayed on the ground and fingers back to his knee, rubbing back and forth in scissor-like motions. "Joe..." I mumble, but I'm not even sure what I mean to say and I set the empty glass down, staring at my fingers on his pants-leg and if he doesn't know why he kissed me, then why am I doing this? "Joe, walk me to my room," I mumble, slightly dejected, but convinced that I am doing the right thing.

[soldier-singled.livejournal.com]

Joe doesn't know what he's doing anymore. He knows the wine's gone to his head, is what he knows, and he knows that it's his fault Web's face looks like that, and he knows that he's still distracted by the shadows between Web's tits. He doesn't know why he knocks the rest of his wine back and he doesn't quite know how he gets to his feet.

He holds his hands out to help Web up.

"Come on then, Webster. Up you get."