you'll have to love me when i'm gone ][ scene

It does take Jack time to respond. Considering he isn't supposed to have a phone at all, let alone one that accepts texts from other universes, he doesn't find himself with many moments alone to check it. Hours in which he won't be missed are even rarer. As soon as he has both, however, he heads over-- without stopping to shower or change, apparently, so hopefully Alex doesn't mind a little battlefield grime. (He did wash up this morning; compared to Stelios, he smells like a soap factory.)

"Oh good, there's still some of you left," he teases, strolling out from the house after Joe had let him in. "If you'd wasted away entirely I'd never find anyone half as much fun to put up with me." Not that he couldn't find anyone at all, of course; Jack's ego is nothing if not ostensibly the size of space.

"Jack!" Alex laughs as he stands, and goes to greet him - is Jack going to permit a hug? Yes? No? - well if he is then he gets one, despite the fact that Alexander is only wearing some white gym pants. It's warm and sunny out, and no one can blame him.

"You're in one piece, I'm glad." He doesn't actively fret over the other man, but only because he's too busy to; the fact that Jack is stuck in a war zone and in a particularly hellish political situation is not lost on him. "Sit down with me and tell me how you are."

Yes, all right, Alex can have a hug, and not only because he's shirtless. Over the past few months Jack has gotten a little more used to the fact that him being in constant mortal peril tends to worry people, and if he can ease that a little for a friend, he will. His smile is a tad long-suffering, but affectionately so.

"Oh, you know, as good as ever." He drops his belt and sidearm off to the side as he speaks--it may be unwise to leave camp without it, but this is Alex's home and he has no need or desire to lounge around with it. "Overworked and under-appreciated," he elaborates with purposeful drama, which is to say he's neither, really. (Well, the latter perhaps, but he's in decent humor about it.)

"And you, living it up I see." He indicates the drink-- if that's alcoholic, sir, he will be so proud.

Alexander is just like this with his friends, though he tempers it out of habit; if Jack would permit him he'd be hugged and fussed over affectionately all the time, but Alex knows he'd still just tense up and recoil. It's a work in progress - not because Alex wants to make him uncomfortable, but because of the worrying thought that Jack is only like that out of some kind of internalized hate. He can't do a damn thing about Jack's war or his family, but by gods he can work on that. Even if it is slow-going.

"You poor baby-- and yes, the rum fumes gently mixed into my pineapple juice are simply decadent." Dry - Alex is working, so there's barely any alcohol. Despite it, he left the bottle out, in hopeful anticipation of company.

Alex's fears aren't far from the truth. There are complications, of course, but where Jack used to consider it a choice, foregoing honest physical affection (if not its pale, lie-driven replacement) in favor the image he wanted to project, now even when that need to pretend is gone, he hasn't found his way back to center yet. He used to be able to touch thoughtlessly, without worrying about why. Alex reminds him of that sometimes, and that isn't a bad thing.

He shakes his head, smiling, "One day, Alex..." Settling into his chair and the warmth, he almost lets that hang, a faux-ominous threat, but he adds specificity as an afterthought, "We'll see what you're like with more than fumes and far fewer inhibitions."

"Until then, though, I intend to lower mine a few notches, if you'd be so kind as to share."

Alex sits back down and lifts the bottle of rum. "This, or I've got more inside." The balcony is expansive and runs across several rooms on the second floor, including a lounge. "And you missed it, the other night I was high enough to be singing pop songs I barely know."

This is not entirely true, as the Wallflowers are not a pop band, but Alexander is just funny enough with his musical tastes to be one of those weirdos who calls all popular music that. He slides his sunglasses back on and hits the sleep button on his laptop, content to lazy around cat-like next to Jack. "Besides, I'd be worried if I sent you home tanked."

"Were you? I'm sorry I missed out." He nods thanks and accepts the bottle; the rum will do quite nicely. If there are glasses nearby, he'll use one, but he's not picky one way or the other.

"And it's the literal tanks that worry me more, but I do promise to keep my wits about me." Not a lie, if his current rate of consumption is any indication. Just enough to take the edge off; he's not in any rush to find the bottom of this bottle tonight. "Unless you plan to keep me longer, that is. You know I may eventually get a whole night off? There's been talk." He bobs his eyebrows there, playfully, like that's terribly exciting -- after four months with barely enough men to rotate out, it is a bit.

There are glasses and other useful paraphernalia about - though Alex wouldn't be shocked if Jack's without qualms about drinking straight from the bottle, he's not going to make him. "The second you get a full night off I'm not letting you go until the very last minute," he tells him, and because he let that sound a little bit more suggestive than usual, he quickly carries on so that Jack doesn't need to react to it. "I've acquired an interesting house guest, actually, speaking of people I worry over. Though he's more likely to get in a fight with a toaster than a tank."

What reaction reaches his eyes to the first is more mischief than hesitation--And what would you do if you had me?, asked in the quirk of his smile but unvoiced. It's better to leave it at that, maybe, but the limits of Jack's tolerance for their little back-and-forth are always widening.

"What, does he have something against toast? Impertinent pieces of bread, always popping when you least expect them." The comparison makes him smile around his next sip of rum, and as he swallows he gestures for Alex to continue.

He does leave it, because no matter what his inclinations might be, Alexander doesn't always hack problems apart. Jack is a skittish animal he's coaxing, and some creatures take longer than others. He doesn't mind.

"He's from over two thousand years ago," Alex says with a soft laugh. "A Spartan warrior who died in an extremely famous, important battle. His name is Stelios, and it's... been an adventure. He's more work than the dogs." Speak of the devil - one of them, anyway - Nana pads quietly out to join them, flopping contentedly beneath the table near Alex.

"Ah, a Nexus acquisition, I take it?" 'Spartan' isn't entirely lost on him. There's hint of recognition, but it's vague, like he might have heard it in passing but can't place it. Certainly Sparta isn't famous or important in his own world, but Alex could probably have guessed that much from the Javan history book Jack gave him.

Jack can appreciate a fallen warrior with or without context, however; his nod of consideration is respectful, if inescapably curious. Given Jack's current situation, it shouldn't be any surprise that tales of war and valor catch his interest, in whatever age. "He must be loving the myriad complications of modernity, I can't imagine the transition."

Alex has picked apart what Jack might and might not recognize from his Christmas gift, yes - he was pleased that there was anything, and belatedly, noticed some ... rather striking similarities as a byproduct, but not to Greece. It still warrants some investigation, but Alex is starting to line up the Biblical 'coincidences' in Jack's world. It's not exactly comforting - nothing in the Christian book ever seems to end well.

"He's very smart, and very adaptable," Alex says, but the sigh in his voice suggests a 'but' coming on. "Modern clothes and giving a fuck about cultural differences are our biggest hurdles, presently. I had to shower with him to explain shampoo properly."

... Which was such a hardship.

Edited 2010-04-17 05:59 (UTC)

"However did you survive," he says with an eye-roll, good-natured but still. Imagine how long it's been since Jack had a naked man in his shower. Or even had a shower of his own to invite anyone into. He has no sympathy at all, Alex.

"With a friend as dedicated as you around to help, I'm sure he'll catch up in no time."

Speaking of Stelios's unwillingness to wear clothes and give a fuck about modern culture- the man himself has been back for about fifteen minutes, and generously spent most of that time in the shower again, rinsing the sand from his outing with Jo off his body and out of his hair. When he emerges from the house to join them on the balcony, though, he hasn't bothered to put clean clothes on. He feels this is an acceptable compromise; he wears the clothes outside when he has to, and not when he doesn't.

"I am taking this," he informs Alex, waving the photograph (of Alex) he persuaded Nikolai to go and fetch for him while he was in the bathroom. "The amazon gave me hers. Who is this?" To Jack he says, as he sits down by Alex, "Do you understand me?"

'Gave it to him' is an interesting interpretation of that, Spartan.

"It's been complete torture--" saved (or... something) from that by the man of the hour's arrival, and Alex by now has managed not to look scandalized at the nudity and only bemused. Apparently this is par for the course. He moves over enough on the lounge chair to make room while Nana gets up to sit closer to Jack since her humans are being weird.

"I hope it's a cute one." Alex tries to get a look at what Stelios has. "This is Jack, he doesn't speak like us. He's from another world - modern like this but alien, like the other doors in the Nexus. He's skittish but he likes to pretend he isn't, because he's royalty. Play nicely, please." His tone isn't nearly as serious as it was when telling him to play nice with Nikolai, for the record - Jack is an adult, and he can deal with Stelios on his own.

"Jack, this is Stelios. As I was saying..." he lets that trail off, because Jack can surely fill in the blanks. The very naked blanks.

Yes, Jack has noticed the abundance of blanks--noticed and very nearly choked on his rum, thank you, but he covered it well. "You didn't tell me he was so-" Naked? Well-built and naked? "Nonchalant." ...About being naked.

(He's not staring.)

"Pleased to meet you," he says to Stelios with a nod of recognition, and it's heartfelt despite any other preoccupations he may have. He adds to Alex, "I'm going to wish I'd taken that third language at the academy, aren't I?"

Because he recognizes the Greek, or thinks he does. In truth, if he'd taken the language in Gilboa, the dialect he would have learned might be closer to what they're speaking than modern Greek as most know it. But he took archery instead because he was smitten with the team captain and now we'll never know. The fact that Alex appears to be fluent in a two-thousand-year-old language doesn't entirely escape his notice, however.

Stelios nods back to Jack - by this point he's got pretty acquainted with 'oh god don't stare at the naked man' (Dina pretends she's not, too, and he's very good about not trolling her because she's Alexander's baby) - with an amiable expression as he makes himself comfortable and lets Alex look at the picture that Nikolai picked out for him. "The boy chose it while I bathed."

As he shifts around to settle himself in, parts of what Jo drew on his shoulder and back are visible - a sun coming over the curve of one of his shoulders, and in the middle of his back: 'Warning: Jo's favorite Spartan is extremely bitey, she bears battle wounds from his terrible teeth.' There's a fanged smiley-face. (It really is a testament to how much he trusts her that he let her behind him like that when he had no idea what she was up to.)

"Tell your friend hello."

Edited 2010-04-17 08:54 (UTC)

"I did say shower," he says to Jack, one eyebrow raised and trying not to smirk-- well, trying not to smirk too obviously, anyway. He's not behaving for Stelios' benefit; the man already knows he's good looking and that Alex appreciates it. He sits up and leans over, peering at the photo, which he apparently approves of because he doesn't abduct it to trade for something else. In the process, however, he ends up seeing Stelios' back, and suddenly pulls a face.

"--God. Well. Uh." He starts laughing, one hand running up over his hair. "Uh, Jack, he says hello. Stelios..." he's poking at your back now, sir. "I hope you said hello to Jo for me. What did you two get up to?" Back to Jack, "Languages are something of a hobby of mine." Yes, that excuse will totally fly.

Jack gives Alex a look; 'shower' does not mean 'walks around stark naked' and 'has very nice abs.' "And does your boyfriend know who you're showering with these days, I wonder?" he teases, a smile under it, meaning nothing by it except to give back a little of what he gets, like always.

"You'll have to teach me a few phrases-- I like him, he's got you looking scandalized already." Well, not exactly scandalized, but Jack likes his hyperbole. He'd like to see what made Alex make that face, too.

"A few things. What did she do to my back?" Stelios still hasn't seen it, you see, although he doesn't sound surprised, per se. More like he's just been waiting to find out what the hell she was doing back there.

...also, he's investigating the rum. Surprise.

"My what?" He sound distracted, drawing over the marker on Stelios' back with his fingers to see if it's water-based or if he's got a temporary tattoo. "Oh, that ended a while ago."

... What, like a television episode? Alex. "Our friend Jo wrote a warning about biting on his back." He informs Stelios of his label, reciting all of it back to him - this time without any convenient mistranslations. When he's done, he slides his own glass over for him to use, since he himself isn't going to have any more.

Edited 2010-04-17 10:03 (UTC)

A beat. "Oh."

That's a curiously weighted syllable if there ever was one, but it doesn't look like he plans on elaborating. The fact that Alex is suddenly a free agent is not meaningless to him, that's all you'll get. He'd offer his condolences, but since Alex sounds like he just flipped the channel to something more interesting, Jack certainly isn't going to dwell on it.

Anyway, there is talk of biting--which he grins a titch about, "I'll watch my fingers."--and rum, which he is going to need more of if he's going to deal with naked bitey Spartans. He pushes his glass that way as well, but keeps a hand on it; this one isn't for Stelios. "If you'd be so kind, I'll join you."

Well, Jack can have his glass, Stelios will pour it for him (generously) and keep the bottle. (He's a soldier, not an etiquette teacher.) He's laughing as he does, after Alex's helpful translation of the marker on his back - he treats this casual touching like it's no big thing, which it probably isn't for the kind of guy who (nakedly) makes Alex move over and share his seat.

"She bit me first, I don't know what she's complaining about."

Edited 2010-04-17 18:23 (UTC)

Alex isn't upset about it in the least - it was a relationship that started as friends with benefits and had fallen into that pattern again; neither of them had the time and it didn't make sense to try and force it in another direction. As far as his friendship with Jack goes, Alex is aware that this changes the dynamic some, too. Neither of them are ignorant.

But now's not the time.

"You know, I'm sure he wore at least a chiton or a skirt at home. Somehow I think the attention has something to do with this." Alex steals a sip from somebody's glass, deal with it. "She's teasing you, Stelios, it's not a complaint. Some women like to be heard even in absentia." The ease in which Alex switches between ancient Greek and English makes 'fluent' seem like an understatement - surely he could get away with speaking it like a first language if it was modern, which he no doubt learned from childhood, but this is something else.

Jack nods thanks and manages not to complain too much when Alex steals a sip--it's better for him if he doesn't drink it all anyway, though he paws the glass back as soon as Alex is finished. (Apparently vague physical contact is fine for sake of booze.)

"It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. Not that I'm complaining, mind you." What. Stelios is attractive and Jack likes to look, this should surprise no one; in the right company he can even own up to it without a fuss.

It probably wouldn't be too difficult to find something that Stelios is actually willing to wear, as opposed to the trousers he has so much difficulty with- but Alex is right, he finds it a lot more entertaining to insist on nudity than to compromise on clothing. He'll probably end up being that guy who inexplicably wants to wear kilts when he concedes to humour modern sensibilities, but for now: rampant nudity.

He still has no glass. The rum bottle is staying in Stelios's possession, at least for now.

"That sounds like her."

(Well at least he knows he can bribe you with your vices, Jack.)

"No, I'd say the situation is appropriately reciprocal." In that Stelios likes getting the attention and Alexander likes giving it; if he's content to be somewhat objectified then Alex will contentedly objectify him.

Politely.

"Is the modern world any less silly today?"

For the record, Jack does feel a little odd objectifying someone he's not technically even having a conversation with. (The fact that he's done worse with countless women in his days hasn't slipped his memory; everyone should be glad those days are over.) But since not everybody can bust out the ancient Greek on a whim, he'll settle for gathering what he can from body language and tone.

Which at the moment is not all that much. He shifts in his seat instead, settling his elbows on one arm of the chair and resting his chin on his arms like some great lazy cat, his glass left dangling from his fingertips. "Somehow I think he's getting the more inebriating end of the bargain, though," he adds offhand. He sees you hording the rum there, Stelios.

Jack can enjoy witnessing Stelios's fantastic alcohol tolerance, too, since he's going to continue hoarding the rum and he'll probably be just fine with it. "Not especially," he tells Alex candidly, taking a drink and leaning back on the lounge chair. (Yeah, yeah, go ahead and look. He's a show-off.) "Is your little friend enjoying himself?"

Stelios.

Yeah, that's not all Jack's witnessing, apparently, and Alex bursts out laughing. He has the good grace to look a little mortified, however, even if it's in good humor, and Stelios gets shoved with an elbow, just a bit. He can take it. "You're going to get me in trouble! I have to be good about playing with him, he'll get upset."

What do you want, Stelios? Do you want pettings, what? Did Timmy fall down the well? Alex sighs and runs one hand over his face, still laughing a little. "He's showing off on purpose, if that wasn't clear," he drawls, sending Jack a look. "It is definitely the attention."

Jack ducks and winces, and for half a second it really isn't clear which direction that expression is headed--until he grins, sharp but inches from laughing. "I got that, thanks," he says, shaking his head.

But when he levels his gaze at Stelios again he's looking decidedly above the waist. Straight in the eye, in fact. "You tell him if he's trying to impress me, he's going to have to do better than that."

Admittedly, the bravado may not require translation.

No, no, Stelios got the point- he laughs again, pleased, like Jack just passed some kind of surreal test. (Nikolai is fun to play with, but that's all it is, messing with the kid because his face is hilarious. He can appreciate someone who can actually handle it.)

"I don't know why you called him skittish," he says, innocently. "Look at him, he's fine."

Alex makes an exasperated noise and throws up his hands, gesture clear in any language. He still loves you both, though, and is going to steal another drink to prove it, so somebody pony up. It is good to see Jack behaving like a normal human being, anyway.

"At least one of us has to behave, and it certainly isn't going to be you." Affectionately.

Setting and circumstance make all the difference for Jack's comfort level--it's still tenuous, changeable on a whim, but this is a place he feels safe, where privacy isn't so much of an illusion as usual, and where he has space to remember that no one actually cares how shameless he is. So, shameless he'll be.

Pleased to have met Stelios's standards, whatever those are, he flicks the man a conspiratorial glance, then looks to Alex pointedly and back, shaking his head. "Don't listen to him, he's a terrible spoil-sport."

...He doesn't even know what Alex is saying and that statement is only true from the standpoint that Alex won't get completely trashed with him, but never mind all that.

Stelios obliges, surrendering the bottle to Alex temporarily and grinning at Jack; this exchange seems to be one of those that transcends language barriers just enough that he seems less concerned with the fact he doesn't understand what the other man is actually saying. (Jo and Alex get a pass, there, he's comfortable with them, but everybody else is still often eyed suspiciously on principle when he doesn't know what's being said.)

"You know," says Alex, handing the bottle back to Stelios, "If I knew I just had to walk around naked in front of you to get you to smile, I'd have done it ages ago. But then Stelios probably looks better than I do."

What was that about behaving, again?

The look he lands on Alex is brief, a pause. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe Alex really ought to be able to guess who Jack would rather see naked.

"Having never seen quite so much of you as I now have of our friend Stelios, I'm hardly in any position to judge," he says instead. Excuse him while he has another sip of this really fascinating rum right here.

For the record, the sexual tension here could be cut with a knife, and when you have no context and no words- well, Stelios isn't blind and there's not really much else to distract him. (That's why it's funny that he's the nude in this situation, for those of you playing at home.)

...not that he's going to do anything with this observation except continue to casually make fun of them, and maybe see if he can mime it for Jo, later. In the meantime, there's that bottle of rum.

It's a funny situation - of course Jack picks now to start acting like this, more open, with an audience making it so that Alex can't just talk to him straight about it. He suspects that safety net is part of the reason why he's pulling it, and that notion cools off whatever he might say in response, instead choosing to sigh and remark, "Brat."

... He could mean either of them, really.

"Have you eaten? I assume Jo fed the monster, here, or he'd be whining already."

"I haven't eaten anything that didn't come out of a can, no, but if you're offering..." he says, perking up at the idea (or maybe just at the opportunity to veer the conversation away from more delicate matters). The way he says it, you'd think he'd been eating nothing but rations for months--in reality they've been more fortunate than that, but reality doesn't lend itself as well to those faux-puppy-eyes. Feed the man, Alex.

"And I bet he can always eat," he adds with a head-cant to Stelios; "He seems the type."

Edited 2010-04-21 09:15 (UTC)

you'll have to love me when i'm gone ][ scene

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