BLOOD AND DUST.

— @wilmingtonstarters​ // AT JUICE AND JACKED

Judging by the way she was dancing so freely, one would never guess there’d been some protest on her part before stepping foot in the building that night. Not for lack of desire to be there, the girl just wasn’t sure what ‘there’ was. It was her job after all. It just got a bit more thrilling once the crowd Some time later, with a slight buzz and the beat of the music beneath her feet when tapping those heeled boots down on the counter top, she forgot all about that ill-will she felt that morning about heading in for another shift on the job. Instead, Carina allowed the rhythm to each song guide her around the room with a pitcher in hand. “Can I get you something, sweetheart?”

         How about the entire bar, and then the next three up and down the street? Because if there’s one thing Caine knew for certain when he turned and caught sight of the pitcher in hand it’s that it’d never be nearly enough. Not for the kind of day - no, the kind of week - he’d been having. “Somethin’ a hell of a lot stronger than that.” His chin jutted in the direction of the beer she carried but, to his credit, Caine at least managed to crack half of a smile. It hung dim upon his lips, but it was there. “How ‘bout a whiskey? I won’t complain if you make it a double and put another up on deck, either.” At the very least it’d be a start to what he imagined would turn into a impossibly long night.

Painting in the park, what could go wrong? That was the mindset Arya had as she was setting up her easel, canvas, and wide array of paints. Her artistic vibes were going hard, and she was ready to make something pretty. But naturally, as she was almost done setting up, a soccer ball came out of nowhere, bouncing into her supplies. Different colours of paint splattered all over her, and she sighed. She picked up the ball and tossed it back in the direction it came from before looking at herself. “Yup, this is fine. All fine. We’re good. Not quite the art piece I was aiming for. Think I should just rub around on the canvas and see what comes from that?”

@wilmingtonstarters​

         Caine didn’t want to laugh. Truly, he didn’t. Unfortunately, his restraint was weak and his mood’s desperate need for a boost a little too high. The sound erupted from tight pressed lips before he had the chance to even try to stop it. “I saw a painting once that had a single drop of red goin’ for a couple hundred,” he began to tease, already headed closer. “I’d say that means a roll from you’d be worth at least a grand.” Assuming she’d rather clean up, though? He pulled a (mostly) clean bandana from his pocket and offer it out. “You’ve got a bit of blue just there on your nose.”

Taking his spot on the bar stool, Isaac wasted no time accepting the menu—which was, in true bar fashion, disgusting—and gave the stranger a quick nod as a thank you. “Wings V. Burger, huh? I guess I shoulda guessed that coming into a bar,” his eyebrows knitted together as he scanned over the menu quickly before logging it all and discarding it to the side. “I’m thinking wings.” The comment was directed to the bartender but his focus soon shifted to the guy beside him. “New York. I feel like a fish outta water. You from around here?”

         A short, clipped laugh fought to be heard over the twang of Dustin Lynch playing in the background. “Yeah, definitely ain’t five star pickings if that’s what you were hopin’ for, but after a day on the road I bet it’ll do you just as good.” Then again, Caine was the sort who’d grown used to dive bar fare. With so many years doing runs for the club beneath his belt he’d learned to devour just about anything in three swallows or less. He took another swig of his beer then twisted upon his stool, offering a nod in response. “Born and raised.” It’d likely never change, either. “I can point you in the direction of a few more places worth your while. If you’re plannin’ on stickin’ around town for awhile, that is.”

Micah couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Owen teaching her anything. Both of them would be dead by now if he had even attempted it. “Not what I meant. I meant that one of my favorite pastimes was beating the shit out of him. No one actually thought my anything. Until you that is,” she said with a dramatic sigh. She could pretend she would’ve liked to be left alone all she wanted, but they both knew she’d been wanting to someone to care for her like Caine now did her entire life. “I would say it happened pretty early on in my childhood. Right around the time I realized getting people to be irritated with me was way easier than getting them to like me.” The blonde’s eyes narrowed, his dumb rules make her making her want to do just the opposite and have a kid now. “Forty-five? Way too late, there’s no way. Do you want me to have a risky pregnancy? And I’m the stupid one…”

         “Wait a second—- hold up. Did you just—- did you just acknowledge I might actually care when it comes to you?” Feigning the shock of his life Caine continued to sputter for another few seconds before devolving into laughter. “Gotta be honest. Never thought I’d see the day.” And, despite the fact that he treated it lightly, he spoke the truth. He’d spent years trying to drive that through his sisters head. Stubborn to a fault he didn’t want to imagine Sean’s influence had anything to do with the more recent turn around but... maybe, just maybe, her boyfriend's relationship with his on sister was beginning to pay off. "With him? I don't wanna think about you havin' any pregnancy." Knowing the process it entailed made even Caine cringe. Besides--- hadn’t they just adopted a dog? Wasn’t that enough? “If you press pause on the whole white picket fence shit I won’t complain. All I’m gonna say.”

In the defense of the club, Lucas hadn’t brought up how they would be handling Owen’s departure to anyone and made the decision on his own. Looking back, he could understand why some of his guys would feel uneasy about the ordeal. However, if John had made a similar call when he was still president, Lucas knew no one would question him. At the end of the day, Lucas was trying to fill some fairly big shoes and it seemed like he was always falling short somehow. “They’re my guys, they should already understand” Lucas replied, clearly frustrated at the situation he found himself in. While Lucas knew most of the guys in the club had his back and didn’t question his decision, or at the very least, understood it, it seemed like the older generation who was still loyal to John had made their complaints known. That didn’t sit well with Lucas. He didn’t need his club’s loyalties divided, especially between his own father. Caine’s words offered some comfort to his current predicament. He imagined a lot of his guys felt the same way, too. “Owen’s been in the club since we were teenagers –– just like me, just like his dad, and just like my dad. It wasn’t a free pass that I gave him, it was a chance to find some peace” With Owen out of the club, that meant he could focus on Abel and his family rather than finding trouble or possibly risking jail time again. While leaving the club was never welcomed and was often met with violence –– because violence gets you in and violence gets you out –– Lucas didn’t want to abide by those archaic rules anymore. They had progressed beyond it, he thought. 

Caine’s question made Lucas really think about what he was trying to put into motion when it came to the club. When he took over, things were hectic due to Angelica reigning in on their territory and the issues they had with the crows. Those issues didn’t exist anymore because they took care of it, under his leadership. Now that things were picking back up, it was time for Lucas to get them set up for bigger and better things and that’s what he wanted to do, with a few stipulations. His gaze was centered on his half-empty beer bottle, attempting to put into words what he wanted for their future, “You know when the club first started out, it was just a group of guys who liked fucking around with bikes and driving down to Myrtle Beach together. That’s it. That’s all it was.” It seemed like a simpler time nearly thirty years ago, but Lucas wanted to get some of that back. “These days it’s about money” He added, eyes finally reaching Caine’s stare as he continued on, “It’s about drugs and guns, and proving just how big and bad we are” he nearly scoffed at the manifesto-like script. “I think a lot of us forgot what this club was about –– it was about brotherhood. Looking out for each other, stepping up when someone needed help, being better men. I want to get back to that.” And he truly did more than anything, but there would be a lot at stake and some of the guys in the club wouldn’t like the idea at all. 

         Elbows on the table, fingers steepled in front of his face, Caine listened without comment until Lucas finished. Then, soaking it all in, he responded with a slow nod. “You’re right again.” The guys in the club were his. His to look out for, his to lead. It didn’t make a difference whether they got in during the early days of John’s reign or last Tuesday - they owed Lucas their allegiance. They owed him their respect. If not because it was law then because it's what he'd earned. As far as Caine saw it the biggest problem was that things had changed. Somewhere over the years the patch started to mean something more - and not in a necessarily good way. Money. Power. Greed. They could turn even the most honest man into a monster, and a few of the brothers had been toeing that line from the start. “Peace is about as real as the god damn Easter Bunny to some’a the guys.” It was unfortunate, but it was true. They’d been stuck in their ways too long to imagine what it might be like to wake up without a gun in their hands. To walk down the street without dodging a warrant. “But lets put the Owen shit aside for a second.” Attempting to read Lucas face he slowly swigged down the rest of his beer. “Are we talkin’ about just gettin’ away from all the in house violence? Or do you mean you wanna go full legit?” Caine whistled through his teeth, as if that alone said it all. “If that's the plan I won’t say it’ll be easy, but--- it’s possible. If I had to put money on someone pullin' it off I'd put my money on you.” And even though he didn't harbor any fierce urge to redeem himself now, he’d be there to help make it happen as soon as Lucas said the word. 

It wasn’t exactly easy, meeting Caine’s unflinching stare, waiting for what felt very much like a verdict. Difficult though it was, Sean did it. Because Micah was worth a few minutes of discomfort; she was worth a great deal more, when it came down to it. And because he didn’t falter, he caught the flash of something a hell of a lot more sympathetic that entered Caine’s expression. A flash of something that made his breaths come a little easier, though Caine remained quiet for several long moments. At the end of the day, Sean knew that all he could do now was be honest, be himself. Pretending to have answers he didn’t, putting a blindly optimistic spin on the situation — neither would help his case. Nor would rushing things. If Caine agreed to start small, he’d have to content himself with that. Not let himself chomp at the bit, at the first sign of progress. Still, it _was undeniably progress, for Caine to ask Sean to do an errand for him, to extend that errand into an offer of a meal. “I can do that.” His lips twitched in amusement at the self-deprecating remark; despite everything, he’d never seen Caine as an animal. No—Caine was a brother, he was protective, he was admittedly wild. But Sean knew those things, he understood them, he respected them. “Bring over the part, not be late. I can even throw in a pack of beer.” Because even if the errand was more a chance to start fresh than anything else, well, it probably wouldn’t hurt to ease the tension with a little alcohol. And if Caine didn’t feel like cracking a cold one with him yet, well, it wouldn’t go to waste. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you then,” Sean added, unable to keep from grinning as he pushed back from the table. With a plan in place, he could leave Caine to his own devices, not ruin the progress made by hoping for too much, too soon.

OPEN STARTER: @wilmingtonstarters​

LOCATION: The Copper Penny, Downtown

“Well, that was the longest fucking drive of my life.” Isaac huffed out, setting his duffle bag filled with all of his worldly possessions to the ground as he took the empty bar stool. “I’ll take, like, two beers and…” pausing, he glanced around looking for some sort of menu before falling short and simply asking the person sat beside him. “What’s good here?” 

      It was the kind of joint that catered to such a regular crowd they likely forgot sometimes someone new rolled through. Caine chuckled underneath his breath after a quick glance right, then leaned over the bar to swipe a terminally beer spattered, grease soaked menu from behind. “The hot wings ain’t half bad if you don’t mind the mess—“ he started while passing it off to his neighbor—- “and you can’t go wrong with one’a their burgers if you do.” Then, unable to miss neither comment nor the baggage he’d carried in, he nodded to the duffel and asked, “Where’d you start?”

At that moment, Lucas finally felt some weight lift off his shoulders. To some extend, at least Caine seemed to understand despite not agreeing with his actions. Still, Lucas didn’t want the dark skulls to be all about violence and using fear as a weapon against there own. It seemed like self-sabotage to him and since he was in charge now, he figured there were some things that had to change. “And you think I went about it the wrong way?” Lucas asked with the raise of his brow. For as stubborn as Lucas could be sometimes, he was genuinely interested in hearing Caine’s point of view on things. At when he spoke, it made a little more sense even if Lucas didn’t want it to. “If it wasn’t Fitz, if it was anyone else in the club… I probably wouldn’t have made it so easy” He shrugged his shoulders, knowing it wasn’t fair and that he had a bias but it was something he only now realized. Besides, Caine was right. The club wasn’t a hobby even if Lucas wished it was. The truth of the matter was that the dark skulls were his entire life. They bled into his career and his love life and there was no end when it came to the group. 

         “I didn’t say that did I?” For the first time since they’d gotten on the subject his mouth twitched, but soon enough it’d settled back into another firm, contemplative line. “You just went about it—- your way. A different way that some’a the guys either ain’t gonna understand or might think they can take advantage of.” Usually Caine struggled to shape his thoughts into something linear and cohesive, but not now. Not when it involves the club and, more importantly, it’s stability. Going full work mode he shifted again, repositioning his forearms along the edge of the table, and leaned in. It would’ve been impossible to miss the raw honesty in his stare even before he explained what put it there through his words. “You already know I’d follow you to the end of the god damn fuckin’ Earth, man. You’ve earned that outta me.” Partially during his time as their new president, but the loyalty offered started far before the moment Lucas took over his fathers patch. It started back when Caine was barely more than a kid who’d shown up at the roadhouse doors, looking for a dad he’d never met and a family he could believe in. “If the roles were reversed and it was you who bounced, me who had to make a decision once you came back?” Brows arched, he shook his head. “Not sure I could’a done anything, either.” Admitting that didn’t sit well with him when his job was to hold every last member accountable, friendships be damned, but he figured Lucas deserved that truth, too. “So no, I’m not gonna sit here and give you shit for lettin’ him off easy or say you made the wrong move. I ain’t gonna tell you change is outta the question, either.” Curiosity seeped through his eyes shortly after that. “But for the sake of my own skin I gotta ask... what are you plans?” He’d been their president long enough to think about what kind of legacy he wanted to leave. “How big of a change are we talkin’?”

“I knew how to defend myself just fine, ask that dumbass Owen. As for the rest, I only allow it because I know it helps you sleep at night,” she said with a scoff, unable to admit she did enjoy that time spent with him. It was the only way she could get away with hanging out with him and not seeming like she was having too much fun. “The baby, Caine. Aren’t you excited to be an uncle?” She put her hand on her stomach gently, keeping the joke going solely because of how extra his reaction was. She finally broke and dropped her hand, chuckling quietly. “You’re ridiculous. I’m not pregnant. I’m offended that you think it’d be such a terrible thing, though. I wouldn’t be that shitty at being a mother.” Except she probably would.

         A grunt rumbled through Caine's chest, but it wasn't clear whether it had to do more with the mention of Owen, itself, or the idea that she knew how to defend herself alright. "I don't give a shit who else tried to teach you. If it ain't me it didn't count." Because when it came to his sister? He didn't trusted very few people to make her safety a top priority - especially over their own - as well and willingly as he would. The beer to his left found its way to Caine's mouth while he waited moments later, then damn near slipped from his hand when she didn't immediately fess up. "Micah---
" He only made it so far before her laughter finally shed light on the truth. "Somewhere along the way you went pure fuckin' evil, kid." His eyes narrowed, if only for a second. "Some kinda stupid, too." His objections had nothing to do with her at all and he made sure she knew it. "You're gonna make a fine mom--- some day. Like when you're forty-five. Maybe."

                      While the cop stood there and toyed with the dangling streamers that served as a distraction, a chuckle bubbled over at the thought. “Fuck, I’d never think I’d see the day that I’m jumping in a time machine. You’d rather run as far as you could the other way as much as I’d like to?” Not that his entirety spent within the four walls of his high school was all bad, no, there had been some obvious perks that came from the memories of that place. But overall, Raleigh hadn’t sat well with him for quite some time, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth that he was still learning to curb. Dropping his hands from idly messing around with the decorations, he raked them through his hair and swiveled around, grasping his cup of beer again. “Surprised this isn’t as extravagant as her wedding.” Calvin added in the tease, being a perfect witness to that planning when his girlfriend had been the one to flip the books and help make it happen. “You’re willingly standing in a gym acting like you’re seventeen fuckin’ years old. I’d say she’s got very little to complain about.” The mention of the monkey suit prompted Cal to tug at the collar. He lived in plenty of button ups, but mostly did without the entire get up. “I swear to God, they enjoy when you can’t breathe in these suckers.” He tugged again, this time loosening the tie. “I was never made for these kind of things. I’d rather slap a check and make myself feel good later on. Never really got the point in standing around to boost about it, y’know?” 

         “A year or so ago? You wouldn’t have been able to pay me to show up at somethin’ like this.” Not because Caine hated high school - in fact, he’d had a pretty good run in those very same halls - but because that period of his life ended in proverbial flames. His entire world shifted on its axis and ripped apart at the seams graduation day. Maybe he appreciated the memories of what came before, but he loathed anything that reminded him of the bitter after. Secrets and lies, resentment and betrayals—- fuckin’ hell. Caine cursed, only within the confines of his own head, and swigged back the remainder of his drink. Thoughts of his mom - or of his step dad - never led to anything good. It took a second or two of concentrated effort to pull himself back to the point. “Pretty sure she would’ve pushed for it if it weren’t for some kinda budget.” Then again, he didn’t doubt Naomi had her ways to work around even that. The corner of Caine’s mouth twitched, a sure sign he’d escaped any foul moods. Signaling the bartender for another ensured it’d stay that way, too. “I know exactly what you mean.” He answered a moment later, a fresh beer planted in his grasp. “All the pageantry and doin’ shit just for appearances sake? It’s bullshit. Do somethin’ ‘cause you want to, not ‘cause you hope it’s gonna make you look good or get you some praise.”

          “How much would you hate me if I told you that I really wouldn’t have minded if you had worn your boots and jeans and that leather jacket?” A simper tucked into the corner of her mouth as she slid the key into the lock, twisting the lock free not only on the door handle but also the deadbolt. As soon as they crossed the the threshold a chuckle bubbled up her throat seeing the tie find it’s way to the floor where it’d become the wildest new toy for Anne Bonnie, sure that every other piece of that suit was soon to follow. “Just think about it,” Shay cheekily suggested, “I could’ve put that leather jacket you got me over this dress.” Hands smoothed down her sides and hips to make sure her boyfriend took a visual and possibly weighed his options for a inevitable next time. “Who would you be calling in sick to?” Amusing him, a brow quirked as her fingers found the buttons of his dress shirt and began a southern route of popping each one free. She pulled his shirt free of it’s tucked position and pushed it off his shoulders once she’d unbuttoned the cuffs. “You don’t have to come to every one of these things, but… I am glad I got to spend prom with you finally.” Then it was her turn to plant a kiss or two, perhaps a lingering third. “I had a good time, yes,” lips pressed to the curve of his neck, then the side of his adam’s apple, “did you? Aside from the suit. Which, you looked incredibly handsome in.” As much as Shay appreciated Caine dressing up for her, there was hope that he knew she preferred him as he was. “Are you hungry?” Gripping his biceps, Shay stepped out of her heels and suddenly was quite a few inches shorter standing before him. “Once I get out of this,” she gestured to the figure hugging royal blue dress, “I can make us a little something.”

         “Hate you?” Caine’s stare rewarded her figure with thorough appreciation, lingering over all the places his hands intended to find. With a half cocked grin notched along his lips he stepped forward and murmured, “That’s damn near unforgivable, woman.” A deep chuckle hummed against Shay’s mouth as she saw to his buttons and he took his fill of each and every kiss. “‘Specially when you tell me I could’a had you in some leather, too.” Not that he’d complain about the particular gown she choose to wear without it. Elaborate dresses, leather jackets, cut off jeans or pajama pants - she put a hitch in breath whenever she stepped into the room no matter what she wore. If anything, the rapt way he watched her move only served as proof. “I got two bosses,” Caine pointed out a second later, referencing both his legitimate and illegitimate lines of work. “Take your pick.” Another contented laugh breezed against her mouth before they parted so that he could nod in answer to her question. “I did, but only ‘cause of you.” For Shay he’d venture well beyond his usual crowd and comfort zone on a daily basis so long as it made her smile. By now it should’ve been perfectly clear he’d move mountains for the sake of her happiness. The prospect of returning the favor and peeling her out of her clothes at the end of the night didn’t hurt much, either. Torn between her face and the curve hugging fabric he nodded, entirely distracted, then flashed a devilish grin. “I wouldn’t say no to a midnight snack... especially since you seem open to a few adjustments first.” A finger skimmed north from the base of her spine, looped through a strap, and then slowly eased it over the slope of her shoulder. “'Cause you do look awfully overdressed right now, Miss Owens. What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t lend a hand in fixin’ that?”

“I told myself that after the wedding and your girl still manages to take photos so be careful” Lucas teased with a laugh. Truth be told, he didn’t mind. Perhaps forcing him and Caine to document their lives and their friendship was a good thing. There weren’t a lot of sentimental men in the dark skulls, so a little outside help was needed at times. While Lucas dreaded the idea of having to put on a suit, he did like the idea of hanging out with his friends. An open bar would only sweeten the deal. Lucas went quiet for a moment. He truly did want to hear Caine’s thoughts on the issue because above all else he respected him and valued his opinion. More than that, he knew Caine would tell him the truth, even if he didn’t want to hear it. Taking in his words, Lucas nodded… “I think it should set an example” While everyone, himself included, were so glued to the old ways of thinking, Lucas wanted something different for his club. Because at the end of the day, it was his. Whatever legacy his father left would be intact, but inevitably it would change. That’s what progress was and that’s what Lucas wanted for his friends. “Fear of violence shouldn’t be the reason people fall in line, that’s a dictatorship, and that’s not what this shit is gonna be any more” It may have kept people loyal in the past but Lucas wanted his guys to stick around because they cared about each other, not because they thought they might get jumped if they ever decided this life wasn’t one they could lead anymore. 

         “You’re right.” Caine conceded almost immediately. “It should be more than the threat of gettin’ the life beat outta you that keeps them around.” For someone who tended to swing first think second, and especially for someone whose very job was the keep the guys in line through whatever means necessary, it might’ve been an unexpected opinion, but he meant it one hundred percent. “A brotherhood ain’t shit if it’s all just smoke and fuckin’ mirrors.” For him, his entire life was built around trust or the lack of it. He knew as well as Lucas did that people driven by fear and ulterior motives where the last sort you wanted at your back. And yet, no matter how much he believed that and agreed to a change, the situation with Owen still left something inside of him unsettled. “I think there gotta be an expectation for—- the right and wrong way to be goin’ about that, though.” Throughout another swing of beer he took the time to shape his thoughts into something that made sense. “Fitz and me—- we ain’t never been close like y’all are. Ain’t never get along that well. It’s not like I expected him to come hold my hand while he said his goodbyes, but just dippin’ out? Leavin’ us vulnerable? Without our VP?” Jaw forced to the side, he shook his head. “Ain’t no respect in that.” And if there was one thing he didn’t think they should ever sacrifice it was mutual respect. “I think you’re doin’ somethin’ right taken a different road than your old man, it’s just—-“ Again, he paused to figure out how to phrase it. “We ain’t some bullshit hobby club is all I’m  sayin’. We could take on serious fuckin’ damage if half our men decide to just up and disappear without warning. They should be able to leave, but if they take a shit on the club on their way out the door? They should probably be some kinda scared to come back.”

When Sean shook her awake on a Sunday morning, she thought for a second that they were about to have their first stupid argument. When he told her who actually was to blame for disturbing her slumber, she redirected her grumpiness at the person who was usually on the receiving end of her bad moods. She threw on the first things she saw, one of Sean’s tees, a flannel and a pair of shorts, and followed her brother out of her apartment all the while muttering about how annoying he was. The gun range wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, but she did understand the intention behind bringing her there. The second location he brought her to, though? It definitely helped make things slightly better, but only just slightly. “You do a lot of things for me. Wake me up after a late-night on a Sunday, steal my father’s love and attention and force me to look at that stupid face of yours,” she said with a smirk, throwing a french fry at his forehead. “You didn’t say hi either. What are you going to do when I pop out the baby? You’ll have to acknowledge him then.”

         “Teach you how to protect yourself and hold your own in a fight, fix shit around your place, make sure you get where you need to be safe—-“ If given the chance he could’ve come up with countless other little things he did for his sister on a daily basis, but Caine stopped short in the midst of talking over Micah with a choked sputter. “The what the fuck now?!” Suddenly, all thoughts of ‘bonding activities’ and playing nice with her boyfriend fled his brain. Eyes wide and jaw slack he tore his attention from her face to the general area of her stomach, conveniently hidden by the table. Was she serious? Knowing Micah probably not, but his eyes glazed over behind a haze of red. If he knocked her up... He shifted through various ways to carry out the unspoken threat in his head, but all he gave her was a clenched jaw. “You better be kidding.”  

The silence that followed his question stretched far too long for Sean to be sitting entirely comfortable. It meant there was no easy answer, no simple test he could pass. It meant, probably, he’d be waiting a while longer. But part of him had known all that, or, at least, expected to hear it. What he was asking was neither easy nor simple. It wasn’t some small transgression, either. But the rest of him? That hasn’t quietly disappointed, or resigned? It was small, but that part of him was relieved. Because Caine could’ve lied, could’ve given him a flip answer. But he hadn’t – he was stopping, and thinking; trying to find a way forward, even though it wasn’t easy. “I get that,” he said with a low sound that might’ve been a chuckle, if things were easier between them. And he did understand, because he was the same way – hurts aimed his way tended to roll off his back, or at least were easier to get over. But when it came to the people he loved – his sister, especially – there was a grudge of epic proportions in the making. “I don’t know, either,” he answered, just as bluntly, painfully honest. No point in reminding Caine – if he’d ever known, let alone cared – that in some ways, their situations had been reversed a year before. Oh, Caine hadn’t fucked over Sydney, but his sister had arrived on his doorstep, heartbroken because of a two-fold betrayal. The circumstances weren’t the same; it wasn’t like Sydney and Lucas were dating now. But, still, things weren’t entirely easy between Lucas and himself, even now. Maybe, they wouldn’t ever be. It wasn’t exactly a helpful comparison, so Sean set it aside, and tried to offer more than an I don’t know. “Starting smaller, maybe. Somethin’ that didn’t have anything to do with my sister, and building trust from there.”

         Caine’s relentless stare never broke, but something new bled across his face. Something that looked a hell of a lot like understanding - perhaps even a touch of respect. Sean could’ve taken the easy, self serving route. He could’ve listed off a plan of action to suit his own needs, his own desired outcome. Instead, he offered the truth. Owned up to the same uncertainty Caine struggled with, himself. Interesting—- and, ultimately, what ended up being the smallest of turning points. After another thirty seconds of silent inspection he nodded, fingers still scrubbing at his jaw. “Start small?” Not so much a question as it was a consideration, he nodded more so to himself. Under no circumstances did he believe they’d become the best of friends overnight, shooting the shit over bottles of beer, but small he could do. For Micah if nothing else. “I have a part for my bike comin’ into your dads garage this week... Why don’t you pick it up for me and bring it by the house?” If it sounded like an errand that’s because it was, but there was more than what met the eye to the request. Caine never trusted anybody to handle a single thing involving his most prized possession. In his eyes, doing so now was almost the same thing as trusting Sean with his sisters heart. “And since I ain’t a complete fuckin’ animal, I’ll throw a few burgers on the grill, too. You show up on time without doin’ any damage you can stick around for awhile.” It’d give them time to adjust to one another without other influences around.

                      “That’s fair.” Calvin chuckled almost immediately at the response he earned from Caine. He figured it would have been the same for him if he had actually shown his mug up at his old high school gym, but truthfully? He didn’t regret not going. It wasn’t his speed back then and arguably wasn’t his speed no, but it had been for the girlfriend who deserved at least one prom in her life. Whether that be in her early thirties or not. Because, that’s what a good boyfriend did, something that despite a year had still taken someone like Cal to get used to being called. “Something about… this tells me they did a real good job of replicating it. That, or the movies really are a fuckin’ cliche.” He tugged on a navy blue matched with sliver streamer that hung low from the drapey above their heads. “Got a point. Figured they had to, though. I don’t think the puppy dog eyes would’ve worked too well with middle aged men having to stuff back into a high school gym.” Cal chuckled, then shrugged his shoulders. “Guess it’s for a good cause though. Should earn some good karma for up to a year because of this.” 

          By that point he’d been to ‘prom’ three times now. Even if one of those was a night of his own creation Caine felt like he could confirm the assumption on good authority. “Honest to God it’s like I’ve time jumped twelve fuckin’ years in the past. They must have an official handbook on this shit or somethin’.” Then, when memories of Valentine’s Day drifted to the forefront of his mind, he laughed. “Well, that or just the same decorator at work.” His gaze traveled the room again before landing back to Cal’s face. “Naomi might as well’ve signed her name.” He had no idea whether or not she’d actually lent a hand this go around but, knowing her, he wouldn’t be surprised. When it came to things like karma, though? “I really hope you’re right.” A smile cracked across his face in the wake of an abrupt laugh. “Fuck knows I could always use a bit more of that." Didn't take much to guess why, either. "But if not karma it better at least keep me outta the doghouse for a week or two.” That time his laugh was silent, but another hint of a smile appeared all the same. “I really can’t stand paradin’ around in these fuckin’ suits. After this? Shay can’t ever claim I don’t love her.”

“I think I’ll hold off on asking for more. Wouldn’t want to piss off the girlfriend.” Her elbows are leaning on the bar and her fingers lace together as she listens to his order, eyebrows coming to a raise. “Oh, dealer’s choice. That’s dangerous.” Shoulders straightening up, Savannah’s eyes settle on him to gauge whether his bravery is for show or just a part of him. “How adventurous are we feeling?”

         Another laugh breached his lips. “Wise woman.” Unintentionally benevolent, too, considering Caine wasn’t the type to walk around with an arsenal of shitty compliments and pick up lines at his disposal. How he’d managed to land a girl like Shay still baffled him on a daily basis. One thing he knew for sure, though? “I ain’t afraid of pretty much anything let alone a mystery drink.” The same crooked smile from earlier made a reappearance. “So how ‘bout we say very and you hit me with the best you got.”