Oh believe me, he’d love to be put off. After the last few month or so of boredom and misery, it’d feel pretty fucking satisfying to turn Acel away at the door, and watch him slink back to base with his proverbial tail between his legs.
…Unfortunately, a guy like Joey doesn’t have the luxury of playing hard-to-get. Acel’s probably already got suitors lining up around the block to catch him on the rebound, and this is probably the only crack he’s gonna get at it before the Heavy moves onto someone else. Probably someone with a better personality and a nicer ass, to boot.
"Oh, it’s you," the Scout observes airily, doing his best to look disinterested as he leans against the doorframe. "Nice to see you made it back in one piece. Eventually."
*It hasn’t been a boring month for Acel. Miserable, embarrassing, and painful in a way that had left him feeling… different. Probably better. But with all the talking to other people wrestling with the same problem and talking to doctors, therapists mostly, he hadn’t really had the time to think through what he should say now.*
*He looks better, though. He looks like he’s been getting enough sleep lately, and he’s gotten his shaving together again. His head is as smooth as a cue ball.*
Uh, yeah, *Acel replies, doing his best not to fidget. There’s a breathing technique he’s learned, and using it now keeps the fidgetiness occupied.* It is me. It is good to see you again. Uh. So… did you still want that dinner? Or lunch, it could still be either. Or both…?
Joey thanked him silently for the change of subject. There would be plenty of time to commiserate later.
"Oh right, that. Sure, I guess. Not like there’s a hell of a lot else to do.” He shrugged one shoulder indifferently, composure somewhat betrayed by the coy little smirk playing at his lips.
“‘Course, it’s like an hour to the nearest truck stop diner, let alone any actual restaurants. Dunno about you, but I don’t feel much like hitch-hikin’. …Unless you got somethin’ else in mind.”