He'd just come from the pie making contest, a faint thrum of pride still humming in his chest knowing that it had been fruits and veggies he'd had a hand in growing that had been used for some of those pies, and was now seated for the ghost stories. He didn't plan to tell any but that didn't mean that he couldn't listen. "Umm..." JD wasn't sure what to say about that. Some of the stories had been told for generations. "Some of them might be," he replied, voice faint. "But what's your name? Just so I know to run if I hear it bein' called."

He leaned slightly toward the edge of the fire, reaching for a nearby bundle of skewers and the bag of marshmallows sitting lazily nearby. Pulling one free, he held it out casually, not too close, not too far, with a small, easy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Here,” he said, voice low and warm, as if offering something as simple as sharing a marshmallow was a gesture that spoke volumes without needing words. “I mean…we can’t exactly run for our lives on an empty stomach, right?” He paused, curiously adding, "Course this now leads me to the very important question of...Do you burn your marshmallows or are you a light brown crispy edge type of person?"

"Okay, boys," Alejandro greeted, setting down the boxes of pizza he held. "I know dinner was mine tonight, but I got caught up at the cafe. So, this'll have to do." Ale didn't usually mind pizza for dinner but when you lived with two people who enjoyed cooking, it sometimes felt impossible to keep up. As it was, there were probably only a handful of things he could make from scratch and none of them had seemed appealing in the moment. "If anyone's feeling really picky, we've got leftovers in the fridge, but I figured pizza, beer, and a movie?"

“It’s actually pepper chicken,” he joked. The container obviously had Sesame Chicken. He was very grateful that Mateo hadn’t grown bored or sick of that dish in the time they’d spent apart. It meant it was still something he liked. He smiled at Mateo as he pulled the chair closer and sat down. The knee bump made him acutely aware of just how close they were, and how much he had missed being this close to Mateo. Not to mention how much he missed this, having someone this genuinely excited to spend time with him - even if it was just lunch. “Of course I remembered. Wouldn’t have dared show up without it,” he teased and nudged Mateo playfully. 

Jin opened his own container, buying himself a moment before he met Mateo’s eyes. “You know, working nights, give me this rock star look,” he joked. He probably hadn’t slept all that much, and the messy hair was from his headphones being slid through his chair when taking them on and off. “I missed you, too.” He said honestly, leaning back in his hair. “Stupid amounts,” he added in what he hoped was a playful manner. He wasn’t here to lay everything down. He had to build up to it, and show Mateo how sorry he was by showing up for him instead of running. 

He took a breath, shifting gears. “What are you working on? Are you having a good day?” He smiled, reaching for his chopsticks. “And did you expect me to bring you sadness and ramyeon, or was that what you had packed yourself?” Honestly, both were very plausible. Sadness and ramyeon just so happened to be Jin’s speciality, served with an ice-cold energy drink, of course. 

He let his head lull back like he was about to faint right off his chair before cracking a smile he couldn’t contain, the kind that crinkled his eyes and made him look stupidly happy to be here with Jin. Because he was stupidly happy to be here with Jin, Mateo was always happy to be around him. The only problem was that he had to constantly remind himself that he needed to correct his feelings to be a bit more platonic than what they really were. But that was his own little battle, something he didn't dare voice out loud, it wasn't worth ruining their friendship. Besides, he doesn't like you like that. Mateo reminded himself, keeping his warm smile plastered on his face regardless of the slight ache that thought brought.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Man disappears for ages and comes back pretending he doesn’t know my one true food weakness. I oughta report you for emotional damage.” Another soft bump of his knee against Jin’s—this one gentler, more real beneath the teasing. “But hey,” he added, grin returning, “I guess I can forgive you since you did bring actual sesame chicken. And the chili oil." His voice dropped slightly, the softness back and shimmering around the edges. “And… because I think this is the sweetest thing ever. I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet gesture, but...I hope I do it again.” He lightly laughed, reaching for his chopsticks and silently debating what he'd dig into first.

It was incredibly difficult for Mateo not to pause mid reach for a piece of chicken when he heard Jin mention he had missed him too, and the added stupid amounts comment, but he remained focused on the food and not the way his heart fluttered at the admission. "Oh, I'm having a much better day now. I was just working on some edits for the paper, nothing too major. It's my half day today, actually." He takes a moment to eat bit of food, doing a little dance in his seat as he savored every bite.

"I didn't pack myself lunch today," he admits, cheeks turning a light shade of pink from embarrassment, "I woke up late. But that's what was on the menu for dinner. Oh, except, you know what I did pack?" He turned for a second to reach into his little cooler, pulling out a small cherry pie. "You can have it," Mat insisted, gently nudging the pastry towards Jin. He lifted his chopsticks, pointing at Jin with zero grace. “Now spill. For real—how are you?"

Jin wasn't much of a 'daylight' person. He worked nights and preferred it that way. Daytime was usually spent sleeping or questioning his existence. But today was different. He was up, he was out, and he'd decided it was time to actually give something back to Mateo.

After the way he'd left things between them, after disappearing the way he had, Jin felt like he owed Mateo the world. And even that wouldn't be enough to show how much he regretted his actions. He had a streak of abandoning people when feelings got too involved. Though, at least after Mateo, he hadn't run to the other side of the earth like he had before. Small victories, right?

Entering the building Mateo worked in, Jin hoped and prayed all the way up that he wasn't out on a job. In the bag he carried, Chinese food for both of them, Mateo's favourite, or at least what used to be his favourite. Jin hadn't actually asked. Probably should have. In his other hand, drinks for them both.

As he stepped into the right room, he scanned until he spotted the familiar figure sitting with his back turned, clearly working on something. Jin moved through the desks quietly and set the bag and bottles down onto Mateo's desk. "You're not too busy to have lunch with me, are you?" he asked, aiming for playful, but his voice coming out softer than intended. He came around to Mateo's side, trying to read his expression.

For a second Mateo just blinks, mouth slightly open, brain short-circuiting in the best possible way. Then the biggest, goofiest grin spreads across his face, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and shows way too many teeth.“Holy crap, Jin?” He spins his chair fully around, nearly knocking over his coffee in the process. “You… you brought food? Like… actual real food that isn’t sadness and instant ramen?”

He’s already half out of his chair, hovering like he wants to hug him but isn’t sure if that’s allowed anymore. His hands flap once in excitement before he catches himself and shoves them into his hoodie pocket instead. “I—dude, I’m never too busy for you. Especially not when you come bearing sesame chicken. That is sesame chicken I smell, right? Tell me it’s sesame chicken or I might actually cry.” He laughs, bright and warm, and there’s this soft, fond look in his eyes he can’t quite hide. “Sit, sit! God, I can’t believe you’re here. You look…” Amazing. Beautiful. Like every good memory I’ve been hoarding for years. “…like you haven’t slept in a week, but in a hot way. Very rockstar chic.”

He pulls the second chair from the empty desk next to him, scooting it close, maybe a little too close, bumping knees on purpose as he sits back down. “I missed you, y’know,” he says, quieter now, but still smiling like Jin hung the moon. “Like… stupid amounts. But no pressure! We can just eat and you can tell me why you suddenly decided to grace my sad little cubicle with your wonderful presence.” He winks, already digging into the bag like a kid on Christmas. “Also you remembered the extra chili oil. Marry me. Wait, ignore that, brain-to-mouth filter still broken. How are you?”

"Knock knock," Elise says, poking her head into Mateo's office. Now, Elise would always say she liked her coworkers equally (and for the most part, she did!), but Mateo was always a bit of a favorite. She founds she could talk to him about a lot of things, and he'd engage in conversations earnestly. More than that, he was always willing to teach her new things.

Including baking techniques, which was an interest they shared.

Today, though, wasn't about baking. Today was Elise playing roulette and inviting one of her coworkers to lunch. It just happened to be Mateo was luckier than others.

"What are you thinking for a meal break? My treat."

"Oh," he chuckled, "I forgot it was about that time of day. I just..." he sighed, turning back to the photos, "I'm having a hard time here. But lunch with one of my favorite people?" He grinned, looking back to Elise, "I think that might just be what I need to turn this luck of mine around. And I'm not just saying that because you offered to buy."

He reached to put his jacket on, slipping one arm through the sleeve before pulling the rest of it over his shoulders. A quick shrug settled the fabric into place, then he patted to make sure he had his keys on him. “So,where do you wanna go for lunch?”

“It’s absolutely haunted,” Jin said, matter-of-factly, turning to look at Dario with a grin. “Look at this place, if there aren’t ghosts here, they’re missing out on some prime real estate.” He moved closer to peer through the gate alongside Dario. He turned his head to find a place where they could climb the fence or if there’d be a hole in it somewhere. He refused to believe they were the first thrill seekers to visit this place. “Nah, I’m alright.” Jin said politely, shaking his head when Dario pulled out the joint. “I’d like to keep my wits about me when we run from whatever’s in there. But you go ahead. Someone should be relaxed when the ghost of some Victorian child appears in the window.” He joked. “Anyway, what’s the story here? Did you do any research, or are we going in blind?” 

Dario laughed, “Why is it always a Victorian child?” He took another hit of the joint, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke that drifted toward the fence. “Like, what—no ghosts from the 90s? No one in a bucket hat and cargo pants haunting the halls? Just once I wanna get chased by the spirit of someone named Ashley who died tragically in a rollerblade accident.” He peered through the fence again, squinting into the dark. “Seriously though, all I found online was people arguing about whether the owner murdered his whole family or if the town just made it up to scare off trespassers. Which, honestly, only made me want to come more.” Dario gave Jin a crooked grin. “So yeah. We’re definitely going in blind. But...it's totally fine. Don't even worry about it."

He takes a couple of more drags, until it's halfway smoked, before putting it out, saving the rest for later. "C'mon. I think there's a hole over here we can squeeze through." He nods, leading them to where he last remembered seeing an opening. It wasn't big, but big enough. "See? We're not even like the first ones to do this. It's fiiiine." What if someone was living here? Crap. He suddenly felt a little uneasy but he didn't show it, he couldn't, he'd never let Jin know that he was regretting his choices already. Or maybe it was the weed. "Now...How do we get in? You don't suppose they just happen to have the front door unlocked, eh?"

Silas slammed the flat of his palm against the countertop, a grin spreading across his face. "Did you see that goal," he asked, awe tinging his tone. He'd supported the red devils since his days growing up in Manchester, he'd seen their ups and downs, -- they were a proud team with a storied history, and the way they were turning their fortunes around this season made him proud. So much so that he was feeling a bit generous. "What are you eating," he asked the person beside him, "lunch's on me."

who: open / assume connections (0/3)

with — cliff saeli

It was easy enough to swirl around a glass of wine and pretend like he really knew what he was doing. Cliff tended to trust a sommelier on the picking for the Club, and after years of trying to be taught something and knowing it wasn't sticking, he was proven right. "My dirty secret is I have no idea what they're talking about with wine," he said, leaning over to the person next to him. "I've long given up trying to know. The grapes can keep their secrets. Who am I to attempt to know them?"