Slacking Off For A Good Cause


buck_icon.gif jay_icon.gif

Scene Title Slacking Off for a Good Cause
Synopsis Buck and Jay visit the Cambria Salon and Day Spa.
Date November 9, 2009

Cambria Salon and Day Spa

Tranquil and Fabulous wrapped up in warm and inviting colors and the sleek lines of Japanese architecture…Cambria Salon and Day Spa is a fashionable paradise. Dark almost black wood paneling has been used through out the salon, fresh flowers are found in glass vases and exchanged with flower shaped candles every day at 4 PM. There is a different theme for just about every day of the week, but nothing set in stone. There are 8 or so individual work stations with leaf shaped mirrors and comfortable chairs. There are a couple of private rooms for waxing, facials and massages and the like including a private station and office for the owner. The reception area is designed for comfort with the black seats and couches, glass coffee tables and glass/wood reception desk. Over all the salon is edgy and sleek, it is Cambria Salon and Day Spa.

So there's Jay, come Monday afternoon, meandering through the shop in jeans and a plain black tee shirt, hair swiped back in the closest thing Raq could do to a 'fix' for his pointy, frosted tips, sweeping hair. The fact that there's a smile on his face should be indication that perhaps this isn't such a bad place, no matter what his frat brothers would think - and he's guaranteed not to see hide nor hair of any of them for the duration of his hours here. Life is good. He did, before he left Buck to jog on, inform the guy that he was going to go get a job here. Apparently, he succeeded.

Buck pushes open the door to the saloon and swaggers on in with a grin for Jay, holding a pair of to-go coffee cups. "Hey, you really do work for Rocky!" He announces. You know, in case Jay was in doubt. "Look at you. Bet he pays you pretty good, too. He's a nice guy. Brought you a coffee." Buck offers it out and helps himself to a chair in the waiting area.

Blinkblink. For a moment, Jay goes stiff, paranoid - but then he relaxes into a wide grin as he recognizes Buck. "No teasing. I haven't joined the ranks of the fabulous just yet." He accepts the coffee, makes aface, and gestures at his hair. "Not that Raq's not trying. He says I'm going to go bald if I don't allow him to mess with it." Horrible fate. There are few customers, so Jake takes a spare chair nearby. "What's up, man, you just coming to say congrats?" Really, Jake's pretty proud of himself - he's got a job. He's being responsible. His family is in shock.

"I ain't teasin'!" Buck protests, though he doesn't seem horrified. "Well, I don't reckon you'll go bald, but the man knows what he's doin' with a pair o' scissors. "Yeah, though, I wanted to congratulate y' on yer job. I gotta beau at a coffee shop, so since I stopped in lookin' for 'im anyway, I figgered I'd pick up some coffee. But you're buyin' next time 'cuz I bagged yer little friend."

"Wait, what?" Jake sits up straight. "The dry spell has ended? Holy shit, you got Alan?" He wasn't sure the guy was gay - or bi, or whatever he was. Now? His jaw's on the floor and he chortles. "For real? You're not puttin' me on?" The jaw drops again. "Holy shit, you're not dating, are you?" He cackles. It's a rather evil sound.

Buck slowly shrugs. "I don't really like him, t' be honest with you, but I feel for 'im a little bit. He don't know what's goin on with his own damn self. But I ran into 'im the other day while I was prowlin' around some bars near the school. He was real drunk. I got a cigarette from him. That's one of the best ways."

Cue an absolutely bewildered look from Jay. "You bum cigarettes to tap ass? How the hell does that work?" Because he's never managed it - but then again, he doesn't smoke. It was a choice between lung power for running and looking cool, and the running took precedence, as always.

"I'll show you," Buck says. "As an example." He looks at Jay, warning, "Don't get mad." He gets up and heads over to an area that has a rather bare space of wall away a bit from customers. He leans one shoulder against the wall, assuming a typical shiftless cowboy expression. "Now, see, this type o' fella likes my type best cuz I ain't…you know, sissy-seeming." Buck indeed possesses a broad vocabulary. "So you're him an' you come by smokin' a cigarette." He pauses so Jake can pretend the action that he's narrating, if he's apt to. "So I say, 'Hey, c'n I bum one o' them?'" If anything, the accent in his question is thicker than ever.

Oh, this is going to be blush-inducing, Jay can tell already. Nevertheless, he clears his throat and gets up to act out his part - cautiously. No surprise tangos this time. "So…" He mimes smoking, pauses next to Buck. "I say sure, fish out the cigs…" Oh, god, he can already see where this is going. He's beginning to turn red. "Hold out the box or something?" He makes a vague gesture of offering with one hand.

Buck pretends to fish out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, leaving his lips parted a little as the cigarette is obviously dangling James Dean-style. He then sticks both hands in his pockets. "Hey, I don't got no light," he complains in a mumble, eyes pointing off across the room rather than at Jay.

So Jay digs out the invisible lighter and, with an odd sort of disturbed fascination, holds it up in front of Buck. The girls who work here have got to be staring and giggling.

Buck leans in toward Jay's hand at about the distance of one length of cigarette, then takes his right hand out of his pocket to grasp Jay's wrist as he flicks his eyes up to meet Jay's. It may not be original, but Buck has found it effective in the past. He allows a long silence for lighting the cigarette, moving his thumb just slightly over the tendons on the underside of Jay's wrist, then letting his hand go as he exhales the first drag. "What's your name?" he asks, but then breaks the mood with the laugh. "Anyway, that's how I opened."

Blush. Jake coughs and tugs his hand back as soon as Buck lets go. "Okay, okay. Couldn't pull that on a girl." And he flees back to the chair and the coffee he set down to go do this, redfaced. There are giggles from the peanut gallery - at least, the ones who aren't already busy with something else.

Buck swaggers back over to his chair, trying to suppress a smile for Jay's sake. "Well, I don't know much 'bout gettin' them," he admits. "In school they always just came t' me. You wanna get a girl you should prob'ly just treat her real gentlemanly an' then get her drunk. Which is the next step in my system too. See, by now I know my chances. If he does like you an' snatches his hand back while I'm lightin' or after, that means I better look out cuz I'm liable t' get punched. If he steps in closer or smiles that means I'm gonna get lucky an' I can keep holdin' his wrist. If he don't seem t' know /what/ to do, it means I gotta let 'im go, but I still got a fifty-fifty chance, so I haul out a flask an' drink on it an' then ask him if he don't wanna warm up to, an' I let him drink some. Drinkin' really helps."

"You… player, you." Jake stares for a moment, then laughs, "And I thought I was the slut." The coffee gets slurped. The blush is fading. "So now you nailed Alan and you've got a boy in a coffee shop? So much for the dry spell." Nevertheless, he grins, pleased.

Buck laughs at that, shaking his head slowly. Since he looks a little proud, maybe he's not as clueless as he usually seems. He bends down to pick up his coffee, sipping at it. "That's about the size of it," he says, apparently not offended by any of Jake's comments. "Ain't so much as touched the coffee guy yet, but I think we gotta date."

"Congratulations," Jake says with a grin, and he genuinely means it. "I'm glad for you. So I'm here Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, if you want to stop by and say hi. I'm not sure how busy I'll be, but it can't hurt." He pauses, and ponders, then… "Buck, though, I gotta ask. Alan - was he on top or…?" The grin goes completely devious.

"Well, sure, Jake, I'll start stoppin' by. You're always awake an' workin' while most o' my friends are still catchin' Zs." The next question makes him grin, and he rolls his lower lip in, nodding while he considers whether to answer. "You /sure/ you wanna know that much 'bout your buddy /an'/ me?" he wonders, half-teasing.

"Dude," says Jake cheerfully, "I'm totally gonna blackmail his ass into buying me beer. And shutting up the idiots who think I'm a…" Uh. "Gay boy for hanging out with Max." He breaks into a smirk. "So which was he, top or bottom?" Support juvenile delinquency - tell Jay his friends' secrets!

Buck grins at Jake and shakes his head in unconvincing disapproval. "Welp…" he says, "Gettin' a fella like that, so scared of it anyway, t' go on bottom first time with all the time that takes an' the pain an' the…" Buck looks up to think of the word, "Psychological effects?" He shakes his head. "I ain't that good."

Cough, cough, splutter. Pause. Jay takes a minute to compose himself, to valiantly try not to think about this… but the question's gonna come out anyway, and it does so with a noise that is half snicker and half choked can't-believe-I'm-asking-this: "So how was he?"

Buck smiles and pauses to sip his coffee. This is pretty amusing for him. "Not too good, Jay," he answers honestly. "'Course, I mean, it ain't his fault. If he's done it before he ain't done it much, I reckon. It was pretty quick."

Facepalm. Visible, actual facepalm. Jay groans and laughs. "Oh Jesus." He coughs and takes a minute to compose himself, then looks up, grinning. "I'm sorry, Buck, I didn't mean to set you on a loser. But damn, that's great blackmail. Thank you."

Buck laughs and shakes his head. "Naw, that's okay, I don't mind. See, I consider it a kind o'…what do they call it? Community service. He'll be a better person f'r all of it." Buck shrugs and has some coffee. "I reckon it was all a learnin' experience."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Jay says with a small smirk. "Dude can't even say he wasn't after it. Wow. Only thing better would be pictures." The devious grin is back. "I'm seeing free beer for a full semester. He's out next year, unfortunately." Damn seniors. "Dude, you rock."

Buck laughs and shrugs. "Hey, I didn't do nothin' everybody didn't wanna do," he points out. "He'll say he was drunk, prob'ly, but that ain't too good an excuse, I guess. Anyway, he shouldn't push people around."

"Precisely," Jake says, and grins fiendishly. "And he's the one pushing the hardest about that whole business. I'd guess half the frat is intolerant just because of him. Most of 'em are okay guys." He sets down the coffee cup, almost empty, and rubs his hands together gleefully. "Thanks, man. Yer right, I owe you one."

Buck grins and shrugs, sipping his coffee. "I just hope it'll show 'im the light," he claims. "I also hope I don't come an' hunt me down when this shit breaks," Buck adds. Of course, he doesn't seem too worried about that. He just looks self-satisfied.

"You can take 'im, right?" Jake pauses and frowns, shooting over a glance. "You were in the army. Hell, he'll probably underestimate you since he was on top." People can be idiots that way.

Buck laughs and nods. "Yeah, I c'n take 'im," he confirms. "Don't worry 'bout that. Even if he's mad, he'll prob'ly just wanna do it again anyway." So maybe Buck has a high opinion of himself sometimes.

That gets arched brows, a look, and then a smirk. "Dude, I don't wanna know," Jake murmurs, and breaks into a grin. "Him, I don't mind hearing detail about. You? You're actually my friend, weird as you might be."

Buck opens his mouth in a surprised grin. "Weird?!" he demands, laughing. "How come I'm weird?" It's obvious that he's not actually offended. Offended Buck is quiet and morose.

Jake can't help the grin flashed over. "C'mon, dude, you're a gay cowboy in New York City - who owns a bar, no less. …Then again, come to think of it, I guess that makes you a typical New Yorker." Le sigh. He shakes his head and glances heavenwards, then flicks another grin at Buck. The coffee is picked up and sipped - then he eyes it. "Damn." About out. "That was good stuff."

Buck just smiles, guilty of all charges. "Well," he says with regard to the coffee, "I'll pick you up some more another time. You pay. Gives me a good excuse to drop by that place anyway."

"Sure," Jake says, and digs into his pocket for his wallet. "Seriously, I owe you a bit more than this." A year's worth of free beer is not paid off by a single twenty-dollar bill passed over. "Consider that coffee fuel for next time."

Buck laughs and shakes his head. But then he looks curious. "Hey, listen," he says, "You think I'm weird, right? But you said that's typical, too. So…there must be somethin' weird about you. Right?"

That is… really friggin' astute. Jake stares at Buck for a moment, befuddled about how exactly to answer this. "Uh. What do you mean?" He plays for time, just because… damn. That's a tough one.

Buck smiles and shrugs. "I dunno," he answers. "Nothin', really. I just…figger there must be somethin'. Right? I mean, you don't have t' say or anythin' if you don't want to."

Jake clears his throat and coughs. "Nobody's normal." There, have a little twist of a smile. "I got my own reasons for being as friendly as I am." Of all people, Buck is probably safe to mention that to. Even so, he turns a bit red a moment later. "Not that I want that trumpeted from the rooftops, if you get my meaning."

Buck shrugs and smiles. "How could I?" he asks. "I don't even know what you're talkin' about. Listen, I don't wanna cause any trouble for you." He shakes his head, smiling a little. "Shouldn't've asked."

For a moment, Jake debates with himself. Trust is a hard thing to give. He shoots a look over yonder to make sure none of the girls are close enough to hear. Then, "You watch the news?"

"Not really," Buck admits, shrugging. His smile fades to something much more solemn as he looks at Jake.

"Huh. That makes it harder." Jake frowns, then shakes his head and looks up. "Hang on a sec." And he goes forth to get permission to take a quick break, a walk around the block or something.

"Lookit," Buck says, rising out of his seat, "You don't…have t' tell me anythin', you know?"

"Shut up," Jake says, waving Buck off, and, "Yeah, I'll be back in twenty minutes." And then he grabs Buck's shoulder and steers the man for the door. "Christ, you're bad at keeping secrets," he mutters once they're out it.

Buck shrugs at Jake's command to shut up, but he does. He follows Jake out. "Sorry. I'm usually real good at it cuz I forget half of 'em."

"Yeah, well… I guess this isn't such a big deal anymore." Jake shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders, starts walking fast - it's friggin' cold out and he's in a tee shirt. "I used to do shit." Yeah, that's real helpful. "Hey, what's your stance on this whole Evo thing?" He feels better walking fast, when he's pretty sure no one's close enough to overhear him but Buck.

"Do shit?" Buck wonders, buttoning up his denim jacket. "Like drugs?" The next question takes him by surprise. "Evo? I don't know, I don't really care one way or th' other, I guess. You said Max was…" He keeps up with him.

"Yeah, well…" Jake's voice is quiet, rather difficult to hear over the wind and the speed of walking. "I am too. And I'm not regged and I'm not gonna be, because this trick I can do? I broke it. So I can't do it anymore. I'm just like you, I just have a gene that'll get me shot by HF if anyone ever finds out." Doesn't take genes to get shot by HF, though. Just takes annoying them, which he's done at least once. Oops.

"Oh," Buck says quietly, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. "Well, they don't have th' right t' shoot anybody. That's a hate crime, ain't it?" He keeps his voice loud enough to be heard. "But how do you break it?"

"Voice down, dude. I fucking overdid it, that's how. Tried to trick out and win the lottery for Miracle Day." Then Jake flashes over a grin. "Got four out of five before I had a stroke. Donated the ticket to the Red Cross, though." Then he taps the side of his head. "It don't work no more."

Buck shrugs and nods slowly, frowning deeply. He doesn't say anything more, not wanting to offend or be overheard. He just looks sad about it.

Jake's gonna set a record for walking around a single block at top speed. He glances back, and shrugs, then flashes a grin. "No, dude, I'm happy about it. That stuff was too much anyway. I have no idea what I could've done if I'd fucked up. One little stray thought and bam." He shakes his head. "I'm glad it's done with."

"Whaddyou mean?" Buck wonders. "It don't feel like you lost somethin'?" He sounds a little encouraged by that. "Well…you're lucky, then? Uh… This is a little confusing."

"I mean… if you had the ability to just… give someone a heart attack because you hated them, you'd be glad it was gone too. Too much fucking responsibility." Jake slows down a little - and then speeds right back up, because it's fucking cold out. "Not that I coulda done that, not that I ever did, but I once knocked a coach on the head with a baseball and put him in a coma for like, two weeks." He makes a face. "I get drunk, I do something stupid, and suddenly I've accidentally killed some guy? No thanks."

Buck nods slowly. "I get that," he says honestly. "Well, I mean…I don't have anythin' against you just f'r bein' different, y'know?"

"I know. That's why I told you."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License