"Just itching to bring me home." He dropped his bag down onto the bed, and rubbed at his shoulder. But Beau was still smiling.
Will didn't say anything to that, just reached down to drag Beau's bag closer. Unzipping it.
Beau sat, toeing off his shoes as he did, absently testing the bed -- which probably wasn't as comfortable as he would have liked. He fought down a grimace as he leaned against the wall and watched Will.
He was just as thorough here as he'd been when he'd searched Beau back at the station -- removing items as needed and setting them on the bed with apparent respect. He ran his fingers along the inner lining, searching for anything tucked into hidden folds or pockets, even checked all the zippers.
It didn't look like he'd tried to sneak in any contraband: a lot of underwear, a lot of wild clothing, a couple pairs of pajamas and comfortable socks, shoes. He'd brought hair supplies, and a small pouch of makeup. He'd brought about three books -- all school related, all business related. And he'd brought a lot of stuff that looked like family valuables, jewelry and pens and accessories and charms.
Will set things in piles, clothes together, book, anything electronic, anything having to do with hair or skin care, and then finally the valuables. His attention lingered on those as he set both the backpack and the suitcase off to the side. When it seemed like maybe he was finished he looked up at Beau, but possibly only to see his expression as he carefully peeled off one of the thin, black gloves.
Beau was sprawled out on his bed, relaxed, and right about now he looked comfortable. Some wound up tension that made him bitey and sharp had faded back, leaving him looking comfortable. It was a better look, even if he could still use a bit of a shower and a cleanup. He raised one eyebrow at Will.
When there was no obvious reaction Will shrugged and picked up a piece of jewelry very gingerly.
They thrummed with magic now, probably, and old magic: magic that was worth a considerable amount of money. Not that it was worth much if you couldn't use it, of course.
His hand jerked, fingers tensing around the jewelry and his head snapped up to level cold, grey eyes on Beau.
The other eyebrow raised, too, thoughtfully. This was a brooch; Will could get the memory of a very severe woman who'd worn it every day; the glimpse of her entering into a refinery, somewhere, where the heat of the place washed over everyone and made them sweat; could see how despite the high collar of her dress and the stiff sleeves and the dark fabric, she stayed cool. Even when she reached in to check on someone's work, pulling it straight out of the fire to check its integrity. She didn't burn.
He dropped it as the heat washed over him, eyes closing as he shook his head to clear away the memory that wasn't his. He didn't pick up anything else, but he touched fingertips to the pen, brows drawn.
This memory more recent, it was Beau; sitting with one of his school books next to him and toying with the pen as he read, before setting the tip to paper and -- letting it go. It wrote on its own, as he spoke quietly under his breath.
He moved onto the next thing, a charm, eyes still closed and head tipped to one side.
Sleepless nights; another memory of Beau; awake at a club but only just barely and looking at the time. But he could touch it and breathe in a fresh wind, suddenly awake and ready to go.
Will moved from one item to the next in succession, going through each and every piece.
Each one was magical; sometimes it was Beau, or a member of his family, using it. Most of them were passive, most protection or study aids, but there was one ring that sent someone flying back when touched.
He used his gloved hand to separate the ring from the rest, letting it slid down the length of his pinky as he finally opened his eyes to look down at Beau where he'd sprawled out on the bed. "Who's the woman in the refinery?"
Beau blinked at him slowly, both eyebrows raised in consideration. "Is that a test? or a creative writing question?"
"Reached bare handed into the fire," he expanded, voice level despite the crease in his brows. "Do you want to keep up the clueless act, or do you want to tell me why you brought a bunch of magical artifacts with you when you're barred from any and all magics."
"It's my inheritance." He blinked up at Will, more seriously, then sat up. "What did you do?"
He lifted his hand to wiggle bare fingers at Beau. "I read them." Using only the hand with the glove on it he scooped up the broach, the pen, the charms -- all of it, setting it all on the top of the dresser to decide what to do with later. "Why did you bring it?"
"Because I don't have my wallet. I don't have any cash. I don't have credit cards." He sat on the edge of the bed, head clocked to consider Will. "They're mine. I can sell them if I ever need."
Either he actually believed him, or he was just letting it go for now. They were safer here, with no one at Beau's place. His gloved hand gestured at the backpack.
He looked at it, hesitated just a breath, and then pressed it into Will's hands.
He pulled his other going back on before opening the bag and doing the same thorough search, removing items and separating them.
More toiletries, regular pens and notebooks, a well worn paperback with two men on the cover. Beau leaned in on his elbows and watched as Will pulled out the toiletries bag with condoms and lube in it.
There was only the briefest hesitation as Will opened the toiletries bag, noted the contents, and then pulled the condoms and lube out to drop them on the bed so he could make sure there wasn't anything hidden in the bag that shouldn't have been there, Grey eyes flicking up once before returning to the task at hand.
It made Beau smile just a tiny bit, rubbing at his wrist and watching Will out of the corner of his eye. There were some necklaces, here, but cheaper things. Personal.
He looked at them for a moment before putting them back, and then putting the lube and the condoms back. "You aren't bringing anyone in here, you know." In case that hadn't been obvious for some reason.
He made a quiet sound, head cocked. "Just the two of us, then?"
Will gave him a look as he set the smaller bag on the bed. "Pass." Though he did gesture with a hand for Beau to stand up, then pointed at the wall.
Beau stood with a breath of a sigh, raking eyes over Will in have to a slow, assessing way. Maybe for the first time. "... I don't really need another person anyway."
Will put a hand on Beau's back when he was at the wall, and nudged his elbow with the other to get him to put his hands up.
"Not that I don't prefer it, of course... " He shrugged,said it low, as he threaded fingers into the back of his hair and leaned in against the wall.
He was thorough here, too. Had been thorough the first time as well. Hands smoothing down Beau's sides, over his thighs and into his pockets.
His ID still there - Beau puffed out a breath at the touch - and a Juul with three pods. He tipped his head a little to look down at Will's hands.
Will left the ID and the Juul in Beau's pockets, slid his hands out, continued down the outside of his legs as he sank into a crouch, down to his ankles, fingertips even dipping into the tops of his shoes, then worked his way up the inside of his calves.
He wiggled his toes and made a low noise. "What exactly are you looking for?"
Pale eyes rolled up to look at the Beau's back as his palms slid up the insides of his thighs. "Contraband, weapons, active charms. Anything you shouldn't have."
He twitched and shifted fingers in his hair. "Magic doesn't work on me. "
"No, but it works on me, and you're in my house." He said it matter-of-factly, conversationally, as his hands reached Beau's very inner thighs. And then withdrew, coming around from the sides instead to pat down his chest, and over his arms.
"Even the ring doesn't work on me." He tipped his head to look back at Will, fingers tightening in his hair. "It's meant to be passive but it won't protect me."
His brows twitched, a slight crease, as Will tipped his head to meet his gaze. "Why would you need protecting?"
"Right now I'm being groped by a big ape of a cop." He said it absently, still watching Will. "Not a bad reason."
As he finished the search he stepped clear of Beau's personal space, giving him room to back away from the wall and turn, go back to the bed, whatever he wanted to do. "I'm not a threat to you unless you do something to make me a threat."
He stayed just where he was for another moment -- then turned around to rest his back against the wall, instead, fingers still tangled in his hair. It pulled up the hem of his shirt just a smidge. "I think my existence is enough to get under your skin."
Will tucked his thumbs into the belt loops of his slacks, gaze flicking down briefly, before he smirked back at Beau. "Being a pain in the ass isn't threatening."
"You going to feed me, and water me?" He stayed there, still, looking tired but - not as put out as he could have been, maybe.
"Yes, actually." Teeth flashed in a grin as he took half a step back, then turned to walk out of the room. "But this isn't a restaurant, You can eat what I make, or you can go without."
He made a sound, lingering another moment -- hands finally dropping to toy with the Juul in his pocket -- before he followed. "I don't understand why you didn't just move into my place, though."
It made him snort as he slipped through the living room and into the kitchen so he could get himself a glass of water. "And why would I want to do that?"
"Because it's almost twice the size, has a view, is walkable downtown. The bed is king sized." He followed carefully in Will's wake, looking the place over.
"Sounds lovely, but did you forget this is a punishment, not a vacation?" He turned to rest his lower back against the counter, setting his glass down beside him so he could unbutton his cuffs to roll his sleeves back, then reach up to loosen his tie and pop the button at his collar.
"Better decorated, too." He shrugged a little bit, investigating the place slowly -- books on shelves, odds and ends.
"It's a moot point." He was watching Beau wander around his living room, fingertips tapping soundlessly against the countertop beside him.
His hand was still in his pocket, turning the Juul over. Eventually, his attention flashed back onto Will. "Don't you have to work?"
He took a drink, gaze sliding down to Beau's hand in his pocket. "Technically I am working."
"But...I mean, generally." He shrugged, looking up again. "How long will this last?"
As he set the glass down again he leaned back against his palms, his head tipping as he let out a heavy breath. "At my discretion."
He went quiet, finally, looking back up at the bookshelf to think it over. He fidgeted, fumbled a bit, and then turned to go back to the bedroom.
Will just watched him go. He was, for all intents and purposes, a glorified babysitter, but he wasn't going to follow Beau from room to room. Not yet. He'd give him time to settle in.
And in that time he was going to change. His shoes made soft slaps against the hardwood as he walked past the guest room to his own room, unbuttoning the clean, pressed shirt as he went so he could shrug it off and toss it over the back of a chair.
Beau had left the door open -- either because he didn't care or to mess with Will, unclear -- and he'd stripped down to boxers to sprawl out on the bed. Sound asleep again. Impressively asleep.
Will had changed from the slacks and tailored suit to a T-shirt and sweatpants before heading back to the living room, though he did pause for just a moment to look in on his new guest. There in the doorway for just a moment, then gone. He'd let Beau sleep, it seemed like he needed it.
For a while he took advantage of being home early to catch up on a few shows on Netflix, but at around five thirty he'd get up again to start cooking dinner. The sounds of chopping and the subtle clang of pots and pans filtering through the house.
He slept through that, too -- but the smell of food once it was properly going would haul him up finally, with his hair even worse, hauling on only a pair of his pajama pants. And hesitating in the doorway.
It was a pan seared chicken with a creamy lemon sauce, blanched vegetables, and meaty pasta. He was standing at the stove, back to the hall, holding the pan in one hand and a wooden spatula I'm the other. Gloves off for a change -- they were sitting on the counter beside his empty water glass. He was either unaware of Beau in the hall, or just wasn’t looking up at him.
He shifted in place, thinking it over, before he cleared his throat. "I'm going to use your shower."
He did glance up then, looking back over his shoulder. "There's towels in the closet to your right." He adjusted the heat, put a lid on the pan, and half turned. "Are you planning on eating?"
He shrugged a little bit, backing up again to look in on the bathroom, considering, and then grabbing towels.
Will scoffed softly and turned back, scoping up the empty glass, the cutting board. "It'll be done in ten, if you are," he called back to him, depositing the dishes in the sink.
"Do you only have ten minutes of hot water?" He shot back, already making his way into the bathroom.
"No." He didn't bother mentioning the food would be at it's best fresh. Either Beau ate or he didn't. If he didn't then Will had a lunch for the following day.
There was no chance in hell his shower would only take ten minutes. Twenty five, maybe, and he'd come out with his hair wet and rumpled, still just in the pajama pants. Tattoos irritated, and he couldn't help scratching at them again.
Will was sitting at the wrap around counter hallway through his meal with a stemless glass of white wine on the counter in front of him. He'd been watching something while he ate, but he glanced up as Beau emerged from the hall, brows arching subtly.
He scrubbed at his hair with a towel and frowned just a bit at Will's look. Beau smelled like something spiced and sharp -- his own toiletries, definitely. "What?"
He shrugged and took another bite of his chicken, fingers curling around the glass of wine to draw it closer so he could take a drink a moment later.
His eyes dropped to the wine, and then the food -- and he'd take a small amount to poke at, casually, as if he were comfortable here as his own home. He didn't defer or hesitate. "Am I going to be in trouble for entering an establishment with alcohol?"
Will took another bite, mostly vegetables and pasta. Taking his time while he ate, enjoying it. "Anywhere alcohol comprises fifty percent or more of the overall profits."
Beau took a bite, mostly meat and pasta, eating absently around the vegetables. "How big's your wine collection?"
He shrugged again, giving a non-committal response. It didn't matter how big his collection was, Beau wasn't getting any. "Not something you need to worry about right now."
"Depends on if you take me to work with you or not." He said it easily, leaning in on the counter as he ate his chicken. And watching Will's face.
It made Will smile, bringing his wine up for another long drink before setting it on the counter again. "You think my home isn't protected against theft?"
"I think magic doesn't work on me." He said it smoothly, setting his chin in his hand.
"It doesn't have to work on you, it just has to work." Which didn't mean that was the only precautions Will took to safeguard various things around his home.
"Does this mean it's not take-your-daughter-to-work-day every day?" He didn't so much as touch the vegetables -- honestly, barely touched the food. Mostly he pushed it around.
"That depends," he'd looked back down at his dinner, finishing up the last of the chicken in two quick bites before downing the last generous sip of his wine.
"On what?" Beau shook his head a bit, turning the fork against the plate.
"On how much you try to take advantage of being here." He said it bluntly, like it was inevitable, picking his plate and glass up as he got to his feet so he could rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher.
Beau shrugged, looking around the place like he couldn't exactly figure out what he might take advantage of, other than -- "Concerned for your virtue?"
