lonely hearts club

“Sometimes I can be” he shrugs smiling softly to himself. Chuckling softly as he runs a hand through his hair as he finished his food. Looking back to Zane as he raises a brow. Glancing him over as he purses his lips before meeting his gaze again.

Almost immediately, a lopsided smile curves Zane's lips. "Aye, that I did."

The last of his wine is downed, but the intrigue in his eye doesn't disappear. His gaze doesn't drift from where Timothy sits across him, either.

"I'll go wherever you go, Tim," he says easily, rising from his seat and walking over to stand behind Timothy's chair. A warm hand lands on his shoulder, and Zane dips his head to bring his lips close to his ear.

"But I think you need to be more specific with your questions."

Even as he stands behind him, the grin on his face can be heard in his voice. But God, Zane wants to hear Timothy say it.

“Well maybe since you’re taking my offer you’ll have more time to eat?” he says looking to him with a soft smile. Was this an excuse to feed him and make sure he doesn’t pass out from starvation? Yes. Is it also an excuse to have him around more to get to know him? Also yes. “I also appreciate the company… it’s lonely here often” he says looking back to the plate continuing to eat.

Zane had watched, transfixed, as Timothy's tongue wiped cream off his thumb, speechless and obsessed like every bit the foolish mutt that he is. But with an amused little smile, he answers, "Maybe I'm not the dirty one here."

If Timothy thought the teasing was meant to dissuade him, it only makes Zane all the more intrigued in breaking the man down. (He's fortunate, though, that Zane is so good at the long con.)

"I suppose a movie's something normal people do on second dates, isn't it?" he remarks, just before finishing the last of the pasta on his plate. He's almost sad it's all gone, actually.

"I haven't seen one. Ever. They're meant to be fun, aye?"

Zane hums thoughtfully. "If little miss Angel's fond of movies, I don't see why she couldn't be invited.

"I'll just have to save kissing you in a darkened room for after."

Coming back and sitting beside him he can’t help but watch his reaction as he takes his first bite. He didn’t think it was that good. Chuckling he shakes his head and starts eating as well. The wine set in the middle of them a bit away if they needed a refill.

“You don’t eat like this a lot do you?” He asks raising a brow at him as he leans back a bit. Smiling back at him as he tilts his head curiously.

"I don't have time to eat like this," Zane says, his voice still lingering on a sigh. He hasn't moved on from the simplicity of a warm meal cooked by someone he likes relatively well-- not even the meals of his childhood tasted like this, but then again, his family never cooked for him, either.

"Mm..." He's taken to setting an elbow on the table to prop his head up as he relishes each mouthful; eating's always been more of a chore than a luxury to him, but Zane realises now that maybe all those gourmet bastards have a point.

After all, he's into the experience enough that he almost misses Timothy's invitation-- and what a bold invitation it is.

His eye opens (when had he closed it?) to give the other man a look, and his brow raises in intrigue. The smarter thing, the instincts buried deep in him claim, would be to refuse, if only because regular meals would become too much like domestic routine.

But... to hell with it, Zane's never been good at listening to reason.

"Don't be teasing me now," he offers, taking a sip of wine and almost losing his mind at how it complements the dish. Since when could flavours complement each other? "You offer a deal like that, Tim...

“Yeah the pasta thing” he nods chuckling softly as he starts preparing everything. The chicken seasoned before starting to cook it on a buttered skillet. Starting on boiling the water while the chicken cooked he glances back at Zane as he thinks of what he said.

“Uhhh” he’s thinking this question over for a moment. “It was a hobby in college. Better than just instant noodles right? Now I mostly just cook for me and the kid. She likes what I make so I’m good enough I suppose” he shrugs as he looks back to the chicken and flips them over.

Soon he finishes up all his cooking, making two plates one for the two of them. Setting it on the table he realizes how rarely he uses it with how him and Angel usually eat by the tv to watch their shows.

"Ah, Tim, I couldn't possibly eat without you."

But Zane can, as it stands, dip his head to get a proper whiff of the food. The scent of the buttered chicken goes straight to his belly, making him let out a sigh in response.

"...even if this does smell heavenly. Don't think I've had something so simple-looking smell so appetising before."

Zane's never had much of a refined palate (this coming from a man who eats bullets for nutrition), but there's a definite sense of taste to it. There's a difference between food that smells good because you're starving and food that smells good because it's made by someone who knows how to cook-- this "alfredo" falls under the latter.

Only when Timothy's sat does Zane pick up his fork, twirling the noodles and putting the first mouthful in. The taste of it touches his tongue, fills his senses, and just as the dish had smelled good, so too does it delight the tastebuds.

He doesn't even realise he's closed his one eye and leaned back into his seat just to relish chewing it. (He can't remember the last time someone's cooked for him in a kitchen, or if he's ever had anyone do it for him without having to kill them the morning after.)

Him following along doesn’t exactly make him feel better. Lips pursed he pours them both a glass as he still feels the heat on the tips of his ears. He hands off a glass to Zane as he sips at his own drink.

“I’ll keep that in mind” he smiles softly before moving to the fridge. A moment to cool off his face as he takes out the chicken he was going to use tonight anyways.

"Is that the" -- Zane snaps the fingers of his free hand as he tries to remember -- "pasta-type thing? With the cream?

"Yes."

Even if he hadn't known what it was, though, he would've said "yes" regardless. The dish itself isn't nearly as important as Timothy going to all this trouble to make it; Zane, at least, knows to appreciate effort when he sees it.

He watches curiously as Timothy lines all the ingredients out, sipping carefully at the wine to keep from gulping it down like an animal.

“I don’t mind cooking, angels probably going to want left overs tomorrow and well I think you deserve it for dragging my ass and saving me back there” he gestures around with his hands. Soon thinking of what he wants to make as well. He’s not really sure honestly. But those thoughts soon change as he feels his shirt being tugged on and soon his body is being roamed over by an Irishmen he was oddly attracted to. God he really knew how to make his heart flutter.

Zane laughs again, but the more Timothy surprises him, the harder it is to hold back. His own deeper interest in him aside, Zane certainly isn't immune to being pleased the man finds him attractive.

"I love wine!" he chirps, happy to play along. He'd prefer harder liquor, truth be told, but Zane's never been picky about his alcohol, anyway.

There’s plants here and there. Mostly succulents and others. They look very well taken care of. All that would be missing is a cat, that’s in Angels room. But the floor is smooth, marble it seems. Granite counter tops and a large open kitchen you can see from the living room. The tv was big enough for a group and the dining room was mostly a nice table close to the kitchen. A vase of fresh flowers from Jakobs. It was a congratulations gift to Angel for bringing up sales once again with Hyperion. Fuzzy soft blankets on the back of the couch in various colors and designs. And most of all, HARDLY any yellow. The tones were calming in this household. Just how Angel and Tim like it.

The photos are a mix of her and Tim along with mostly ones of her when she was a child with Jack. They all looked happy. It was peaceful.

When Timothy comes back out he sees Zane by the window. Looking out it as well he smiles. “Thanks I suppose. Angel likes a calming home to come back to… I can’t help but agree with her on that” he chuckles softly. Seems he’s changed into something casual and comfy. A nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It’s a lil tight on him but at least Zane gets to still kind of see that tummy he was eyeing. Is hair is neat and doesn’t smell like blood at least. But the mask is still worn despite being able to take it off.

Alcohol, the terrible part of his head provides. Lots and lots and lots of alcohol, Timbo, thank you kindly.

But Zane manages, "Never been the picky sort, I'll be honest.

"What've you got that's fast and easy? I know I've come on short notice-- wouldn't want to be an arse."

Still, he walks across the living room, meeting Timothy where he stands. For all his claims of not wanting to be a bastard, Zane's bold as ever as he pinches the hem of the shirt Timothy's wearing to give it a light tug. His one eye looks at him from head to toe before he meets Timothy's gaze with that trademark Flynt grin. "Very nice, by the way.

"Nice to see you without so many layers."

Even after some time living on Pandora by herself, Angel hadn't been able to resist the urge to grab everything and anything in sight that could someday prove useful. Or maybe it was a function of being on Pandora—you learned to fill your pockets with as much as you could carry, and to survive off of thievery.

Angel hadn't seen or sensed the tripwire when she'd entered the small shack by the side of the road to see what she could retrieve from it—and the trap had been triggered, sawblades suddenly whirling through the air. She'd dodged them, as whoever had set the trap's aim had been severely off, and the blades ended up lodged in the wood of the opposite wall.

The damage was done, though—a group of raiders, presumably alerted by this, had swarmed the shack, and that's when Zane had swooped in.

And sure, maybe it had been stupid, but whatever. She hadn't bothered taking anything from the dwelling, anyway—it was a dud, and there hadn't been anything of worth inside.

"Not all of us are professional operatives," Angel retorts, though there's no real bite to it. What would really help her recover from this frankly embarrassing situation would be to see even a smidgen of surprise on Zane's face when he realizes she knows who he is—though, how could she not? The man had been wanted by Hyperion—and others in many different galaxies—for ages. Zane Flynt might as well be a household name, at this point, or a scary story for parents to tell their children: be good, or I'll call Zane on you.

“She’s a real good kid, sweet actually. Nothing like her father” he chuckles softly. But looking up at Zane as he thinks of teaching her he can’t help but let out a laugh.

“Listen, she’s all for it. She’s really big into learning things. Gotta be careful though… you ever work with a siren?” He asks raising a brow. Yeah there’s plenty of siren vault hunters but she is different from them. Very different from them.

“You’ll miss it? I’m sure you’ll see it plenty later” he teases back with a dismissive wave of his hand. Getting back in the outrunner he does lead the way. Mostly to the closest fast travel.

“Hope you don’t mind Hyperion itself” he smiles as he gets out motioning him to follow as he heads up to the travel station. Pulling up his personal stop directly to the apartment he looks up at Zane, resting a hand on him before the two teleported into the said apartment. It’s large and decorated nicely. Mostly by Angel with use of many family photos on the wall along with paintings to fill up space. The view however is to die for. All of space right out the window along with Pandora itself.

When they materialise into Timothy's home, Zane's jaw goes slack. He's never seen a place so pretty-- not even the honeymoon suites he'd rented over the years or the wedding venues he's had could compare (but then again, considering so many of his marriages had been necessary to kill or steal, it isn't so surprising they weren't especially posh).

"Ah... thank you."

The concept of "family" as he can see in the photographs is beyond him, what with the way the Flynts had chosen to torture instead of care for him, but at least, as far as he can tell, Timothy looks happy. Zane's boots are toed off, exposing the patterned socks he wears, and he walks around with a look of wonder as he takes in all the pictures on the walls.

Hell, if the whole place doesn't scream warmth and love. He's never felt more out of place.

By the time Timothy returns from wherever he's gone, Zane's standing in front of the large window, staring out into space. It isn't the first time he's seen it and it most certainly won't be the last, but somehow it's easier to look at than all the signs of the nice, loving life Timothy leads.

What is it even like being attached to someone? Caring enough to be family with them? Zane wonders.

“Adopted yeah. She’s actually Jacks daughter” he explains chuckling at that. Shaking his head she wasn’t really a little girl she’s a CEO. But honestly anything fascinated that girl. And she says he doesn’t get out much when she has only seen a few bandits face to face in her life time.

“She’s 25 and the CEO of Hyperion. I think she’s fine with anything as long as it’s not yellow” he snorts as he follows him. “Best way to thank her is probably showing her how to shoot other weapons. She only knows how to use a pistol” he shrugs as he looks to Zane tilting his head.

"Twenty--" Zane's dumbfounded for the first time in this entire excursion, but considering he'd been picturing a twelve year old this whole time, the immediate progression to grown woman and CEO of a well-known megacorporation blows his mind. "...wow.

"Tim, if I could teach your daughter to shoot different guns, that would be much more fun than a greeting card."

Thinking on it, he's got a bounty on his head from Hyperion for killing some of their executives back in the day. How involved would Timothy's daughter be with that?

Eh. It shouldn't be that big a deal.

More important is considering Timothy's suggestion, and Zane can't help the weary sigh of, "Oh, I'll miss the little tummy peek-a-boo, though."

But, as usual, he's just teasing, evident in the chuckle that follows.

Tim waits outside the office letting the offer sink in. It’s a lot to take in and it makes him smile. Laughing softly to himself as he puts his hood up while people come out. Someone likes him for him… gee. That makes him feel really good inside. Though the thoughts are put to the side as he looks up at Zane. Following beside him although a bit of a distance between them.

"Angel-- your daughter, yeah?" A thoughtful hum comes from Zane's throat. "I'd think of getting her a souvenir to thank her, but everything here is..." He gestures vaguely to one of the stalls lining the streets. "Your little girl wouldn't want a mummified skag paw for a keychain, would she?" It's rhetorical, of course. Not even Zane would want a mummified paw hand for a keychain (though replace it with a human hand and he might genuinely consider it).

"I'll have to think of a way to thank her." He rubs his chin, fingers pulling lightly at his beard. "A greeting card? 'Thank you for convincing daddy dearest to come adventuring with his favourite operative'... aye, that sounds decent enough.

He would’ve answered but decided to wait on what he had to say. His eyes wide as he describes his meaning. And the visualization in his mind now is a lot to take in. “Geez…” he mutters out a little breathless. He moves his shirt away from his neck as he looks away from Zane’s glance.

Zane can't deny the surprise he feels at Timothy's little suggestion, both his brows raising and his lips parting slightly. It isn't unwelcome, not in the least, but for someone so easily made shy, the gentle invitation brings a smirk to Zane's face as he considers just how interesting this Timothy Lawrence really is.

"Aye," he agrees easily, "maybe next time.

"All you have to do is ask, boyo."

Locating the local deputy's office, Zane comes to collect his bounty. The sack containing the bandit chief's head is offered, and then Zane takes his ECHO-3 out to receive his payment. It's all a relatively painless ordeal; the deputy gives her "thank you", Zane offers a charming smile and a "pleasure, miss", and then he's fiddling with his device to send Timothy half the payment.

"You know, Tim," he comments as they leave the office, the payment sent safely to Timothy's ECHO-3, "I'm glad you agreed to come with me today.

He slowly follows him out, running a hand through his hair to fix it as he follows behind him. Quiet as he listens to him. But he blinks repeatedly as he hears the next thing. The outrunner?? In public? That stirs something in his gut as he feels his cheeks heat up again. “God… don’t say it so casually…” he mutters rubbing the back of his neck.

But he nods catching up a bit. Walking still behind him, he feels he walks at his side he’ll get another lewd comment thrown at him. He’s embarrassed enough as is.

"Do you really want an answer?" Zane asks, offering a quick out just in case. A glance over his shoulder gives Timothy's pink ears away-- adorable on him, definitely, but red enough that Zane's doing his best to hold back from saying anything especially dastardly.

Still, because he's asked, Zane shrugs and answers, "Way it's shaped makes a good angle if I bent you over it." He even makes a brief gesture with his hand, showing how curved a body would be if pressed against it.

When the car stops he glances up at Zane. God that grin it only raises his anxiety on what might come out of that Irishman’s mouth. And what he says next has him sucking in a breath. God he can feel the sweat under his mask.

“Wait- on the first date? Well cupcake if you’re that willing I’d be happy to make this dinner- no shit- god I’m sorry” he shakes his head blaming the damn dna as he tugs his hair. But Angel was out for the night it would be private.

Zane laughs, clear as day, and smiles back.

"That we will," he agrees, hefting himself out of the Outrunner and taking his backpack with him. "But Timbo-- and I can't stress this enough-- I'm only teasing.

"You've no need to sleep with me on the first date."

It feels an important distinction, at any rate. Much as he finds Timothy's stammering shyness adorable, it'd ruin the whole point of a nice dinner if he spent all of it stressed out.

"I meant what I said about wanting to hear you out. If I just wanted the sex I'd have fecked ya right here against me Runner."

The innocent grin on his face absolutely does not suit the situation.

“I um” he blinks looking over at him. He’s not going to answer that. But he is nice to look at he’ll admit that. But when he admits to liking him he can’t help but clear his throat and look away. Still embarrassed. Then he finally realized why this probably won’t be a good idea. No more bomb in the face but he still had his face…

“I uh… I don’t know if this will be a good idea. I could make you something but with my mug out in public I’m not really well liked” he mutters running a hand through his hair. Angel had helped him out with it. After taking her in things had gotten easier and he was really taking the dad role seriously but it came so naturally.

Zane lets Timothy ramble, humming as his companion works the anxiety out of his system, and then brings the car to a slow, smooth stop just outside of town.

Then he turns, his arm over the backrest of his seat, and looks up at the other man with a wolfish grin. "I like you in one piece, too.