Shall we dance? (closed)

[Sam Caraway]

Sam noticed the change in Josef’s demeanour when they parted – he seemed…younger, somehow. There was something more relaxed about him, something much happier. Sam knew that Josef was divorced, but he hadn’t given any real thought to the effect that something like that would have had on the older man: was this the way Josef had been all the time before things had taken a turn for the worse? It was strange to see him like this – Sam hadn’t realised before how much Josef kept behind his eyes. Stranger still, it was Sam who had that effect on him, and he didn’t really know how to feel about that. People were usually too busy finding him an irritation or a rival to smile at him like that.

Well, it was definitely flattering. Sam felt something vaguely resembling pride well up in him, and he kissed Josef again – for longer this time, one arm now resting comfortably around the other man’s waist. ‘Why would you ever regret it?’ he asked, eyes wide and full of that innocence he feigned so well - his smirk betrayed him, though, and it seemed as if he couldn’t keep a straight face in front of Josef for too long. Then he realised that they were still standing close – Sam wasn’t used to being like that (well, he was, but not with a man. At least, not with a man in whom he was genuinely interested. Not with a man who – well.), and he suddenly felt awkward.

Sam had been in many situations with many people, but in all of his thirty-one years he’d never felt like this. He’d reflected before that Josef was unlike anyone he’d flirted with before (which may have come from the average age of people Sam pursued (his own age or younger), or the fact that he’d encountered few people as genuine as Josef during the last ten years), and he also had the added complication of being male. And while Sam had flirted plenty, he’d been called Chase in Vegas – and Chase had been straight. So it was safe to say that Sam felt out of his depth right about now: this whole thing was new and very unfamiliar. He didn’t feel like he could just wing it with Josef – he couldn’t get by with pretending.

Because it was one thing to pretend you were someone, and quite another to be called up on it – and Sam had the feeling that it would only be a matter of time before Josef saw through him. Sam didn’t look to the future – he wasn’t concerned with the idea of anything long-term. No, he was worried by the here and now: Josef had the upper hand when it came to (and he was just going to be honest with himself) the physical side, and Sam also had no experience with someone who could potentially want more from a relationship than he could give. He’d disappointed people before, and he’d always just assumed that they would get over it. But…Josef? He did his best to hide the way his stomach twisted, and looked as casual as he could while he pulled away from the other man.

What would he bet for next? Sam stood in front of Josef, hands resting easily in the pockets of his jeans as he looked at the older man with a thoughtful expression. ‘That depends on the next trick I show you,’ he said, a smirk making his eyes sparkle. ‘I’m not going to just give away my hard-earned skills,’ Sam told the other man, tone reasonable but smile full of fun. ‘What will you trade for – ’ He paused, working out what he could offer Josef as his encore. ‘…A lesson in the card game of your choice?’ His smiled widened as he added: ‘If you want the lesson to include cheating at said card game, I’m sure that can also be arranged – but the price will go up.’

[Josef Muller]

The lingering kiss was also welcome, and he didn’t seem to mind it as his hand slid onto the other man’s shoulder. His eyes flickered up to his as Sam spoke, and he chuckled. “Why would I regret it? I don’t know yet. I’m sure you’ll show me later as you make me suffer for my pains to teach you. But…” He shook his head. “It’ll probably be in a good way, and I’ll probably end up laughing about it when while cursing you. I think Mason would agree with me on that being the way that things go with you.” And he found that he didn’t particularly mind. Better to laugh, he thought, than to have many serious, heart-felt discussions. He’d had enough of those for a lifetime. He’d take laughter for a while.

He didn’t seem to notice Sam’s sudden discomfort. This might have been due to his lack of knowledge about the man, or the fact that he was (almost to a fault) willing to accept people at their word. Besides, they were new to this yet. He didn’t think that remaining that close for prolonged periods of time was necessary. And frankly, he was exhausted. So as Sam pulled away and put his hands in his pockets, he retreated and settled back in the chair, leaning his head against the wall and surveying the other man with a slight smile on his lips.

Card games were the next thing on the list, huh? That took some thinking. He pressed his lips together and eyed him, noticing the sparkle, and suspecting this was going to end very badly for him. “Obviously not,” he agreed. “Well, uh…” What could he trade for that kind of thing? Being a martial-arts expert didn’t exactly mean you had a lot of practical knowledge to trade for a lesson in card games. “I don’t know about cheating yet,” he admitted. “As I seem to have enough issues with the games alone. But perhaps…” He tilted his head to the side. Oh, what did he have to trade? “I could teach you how to throw knives,” he said absently. That was a skill he’d picked up after going to the circus when he was sixteen and on break. He’d been so determined to do it that he’d practiced in his room and had just about given his roommate a heart attack. “Or carve wood, I guess…? Jeez, Sam, I don’t know.” He laughed. “What do you think would be a fair trade? I could teach you yoga, but I don’t think Mason would stop laughing at you. Mind, he does it himself, so take it at that.” He shrugged, then nodded to the seat next to him. “Want to sit down?”

[Sam Caraway]

‘I’d say you shouldn’t listen to anything Mason says about me, but unfortunately it’s usually all true.’ Very little had happened during their school years that Mason hadn’t heard about, and he knew far more about Sam’s subsequent life than anyone else in the world. Their long-standing friendship provided them both with plenty of ammunition when it came to arguments, but also meant that mutual friends could be regaled with stories both would have wished to be put to rest.

Not that they didn’t have a blacklist, of course – who doesn’t? A couple of items were definitely never to be spoken of, and each trusted the other not to ever, ever mention them. What were these topics? That would be telling. But suffice it to say that there were four or five things that the world would never hear about, and both Mason and Sam had agreed that the penalty for mentioning anything on The Blacklist would be swift and painful.

‘Knives?’ Sam stared at Josef for a moment, trying to work out if he was joking. Josef didn’t strike him as the knife-throwing type – wasn’t karate all about not having any weapons? Then again, if someone made a speciality out of learning how to hurt people, it stood to reason that they would want to learn how to do it in the most efficient ways possible. Sam let Josef speak, taking the seat next to him when it was offered. He leaned back in the chair, turning his head to offer Josef a grin. ‘Dancing has gone surprisingly well, but I’m not sure knife-throwing would be advisable,’ he told the older man. ‘I can’t be trusted to keep hold of a cellphone for longer than a month – I don’t think putting anything sharp in my hands is a good idea.’ He meant it, too. He had the steadiest hands possible when it came to a card trick, but knives were not something he wished to have much experience in.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, slouching in the chair until he was perfectly comfortable. His body hadn’t had this much exercise in a while, and it was making him pay for it. ‘I’m sure we’ll work something out,’ he told Josef. It was good to see the other man this relaxed – Sam wondered how many people had seen this side of Josef in the last few months. The last time they had been here, Josef had seemed focussed on keeping his composure, not smiling half as much as he should. ‘Mason said you’re a zen master,’ Sam said with a smirk, trying not to think about what else Mason had said when he’d uttered that sentence. ‘I think he was right. Knife-throwing? What else do you have under your hate that you haven’t mentioned?’ He grinned. ‘Can you use a sword?’

[Josef Muller]

“All of it?” Josef’s brows climbed as he considered some of the things that Mason had said, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, just a little. But he managed to suppress it after only a moment and blinked as innocently as he could manage. He wasn’t as good at it as Sam was. He could never stop himself from smiling entirely. “I might have to keep that in mind.” In fact, he was sure he would…but later. He had a feeling that he’d need every trick he had to make sure Sam didn’t take advantage of him. Sam probably did it without thinking.

Ah, perhaps the knife business had been a mistake. Truthfully, Josef didn’t share that fact with many people. He just used the skill to be very good at darts—yet another way he’d earned spending money while in college—and left it at that except for some practicing when he was bored and alone. At least Sam didn’t seem too alarmed by the idea. His brows climbed at the comment on cellphones, and he did a mental calculation and blinked at the number. “I’m beginning to rethink what I said about you not being clumsy. You can’t keep a cellphone for more than a month? How do you afford that particular habit?” He’d said he was a professional gambler—how much money could he make from that? Then again, he’d claimed to be in investments before…clearly he had enough money to manage. “But all right then. No knife-throwing. We’ll figure something out indeed.” He smiled at him. “I do want to learn those games.” Maybe with Sam’s help he could actually win one for once.

He was a little thrown off by the ‘zen master’ comment, and blinked at Sam, then laughed. “Does he?” So he’d had success in pretending to be something else. He grinned. “I’m really not. But no one will take lessons from a karate teacher who makes bad jokes and seems human. It ruins the mysticism.” Like personal trainers had to pretend they knew what they were doing and eat celery on their break to make sure that anyone watching didn’t notice. It had been a shame. He loved junk food when he could get it.

He looked slightly embarrassed at the mention of knife-throwing, and sank down a little in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well. Uh. I took a couple of lessons. I wasn’t any good with fencing. Broadsword was—this isn’t helping, is it?” He coughed. “But that’s it. I’m good at learning physical skills, that’s all. I could ask you how many games you know how to cheat at and I’m sure we’d be equal.” But he smiled to show it was a jest.

[Sam Caraway]

How could he afford it? Oh, I have a lot of money. But that probably wouldn’t go down very well (that, or it would go down too well, which would be another kettle of fish entirely). ‘I buy very cheap cellphones,’ Sam deadpanned – it was true, though, and he pulled the current model out of his pocket to prove it: small and basic. Only good for phonecalls and texts, nothing fancy at all. No camera, no touchscreen, no internet access. There were children who had better phones than Sam, and he held it up for Josef’s inspection with a rueful smile. ‘This is…I think this is phone number three, in the last three months. I’m on a roll. I lost one a week or so before I moved here, when I was mugged; one when Sloane Devereaux pulled me into a lake – long story – and one on the day I met you.’ He sighed reflectively, pocketing the phone again. ‘I think that one fell down a toilet. Just for the record, that’s the reason why I didn’t ask for your number that night.’

That was the problem with being a probability manipulator. Bad things happened to everyone, but they could be so much more melodramatic for Sam. It was no wonder he had turned out the way he had, with his life being alarmingly similar to some kind of sitcom. He smiled at Josef, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I don’t mean to lose things – it just happens,’ he told the older man. ‘Guess I’m more clumsy than I want to be.’ He wasn’t about to explain the details, not just yet.

The irony was, he wasn’t clumsy at all on a good day. He never usually dropped or broke things – it was just once a month, but those days seemed to be what people judged him on. It just took one major incident for everyone to judge you to be a klutz, and Sam had done enough of those to last him a lifetime.

Sam laughed. ‘Bad jokes, huh?’ he asked Josef with a smirk. ‘I’ll have to see your repertoire sometime.’ Still, it was nice to know that there were other people out there who assumed personas when they were on the job. It was also nice to know that the unflappable Josef could look so charmingly embarrassed – Sam watched with another of his delighted smile as his friend confirmed that he did, indeed, have some experience when it came to wielding a sword.

‘Not at all,’ Sam replied cheerfully when Josef asked if his elaborations were helping the situation. ‘But they’re really adding to your street cred.’ A smirk twitched at his lips when Josef mentioned 'leaning physical skills' - if he had been feeling a little more immature, he could have had some fun with that. Then he smiled. ‘True, true,’ he conceded – he probably had as many tricks up his sleeve as Josef did katas (he was really going to have to do some research on those). Sitting up in his chair, Sam looked over at Josef: ‘Want to grab a drink?’

[Josef Muller]

Josef’s brows climbed higher at the mention of three different phones. But it was a basic phone. Not that Josef could comment. Not being comfortable with technology and not particularly needing fancy technology, Josef avoided smartphones. The only reason that he had a new phone at all was because he’d taken himself off of the plan he’d shared with his ex. But his could text and call and nothing else, and that was exactly how he liked it. But he did smile at the last statement.

“And here I thought it was something I’d said,” he said lightly, deciding not to mention the fact that he would’ve just given Sam his card and given him class listings. He’d given up on trying to explain that he’d thought of Sam as being abused. That was just going to be his own private little secret. Yeah. But still. Mugged? And the other two were bizarrely ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then shrugged. “I still don’t see you as clumsy. In spite of the day we met. But I’ll take your word on it. And as for the bad jokes…” he shook his head and chuckled. “Trust me. You really don’t want to hear them. These days, I only share them when I’m very drunk.” And due to that bar fight—another fact he wasn’t going to share—he doubted he was going to drink that much for a long time.

Ah, well. At least Sam didn’t seem afraid of him. He realized he was red and shook his head, trying to dismiss it, but he did notice the smirk. And thought he guessed the reason. For a moment, he was tempted to say something…but bit it back. Not for now. Sam’s reaction to kisses was so marked that he suspected slow was the best course. Besides, he wasn’t up for heavy flirting tonight. He was tired enough to be slow on the uptake.

For a moment, Josef hesitated at the question. He shouldn’t. There were his early classes and he had so many things to do. And perhaps he was still a little nervous about all this. But as far as he knew, he only lived once. So he looked up, and his lips twitched into a faint smile. “Sure. Let me grab my jacket.”

And as he led Sam out, he reflected that he didn’t really know what this was, but at least it was guaranteed to be interesting.