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 Posted: Fri Oct 06, 2017 6:26 am
"Sounds like a tough life for a kid."
Rob had grown up with the furthest thing from a tough childhood. It hadn't been the most glamorous either, but he hadn't wanted for much. Hell, it hadn't even been mildly entertaining, as far as he was concerned. His mother had stayed at home and played the role of the good wife while his father had been a prestigious lawyer who'd built his firm from the ground up, much as Robert had tried with his own career. While he was far from anywhere close to reaching the same status (or approval) of his father, both of his parents were alive and well... at least, they had been since the last time he'd checked.
..... Wait, when was the last time he'd checked on them, again?
Setting the paperwork down, he leaned back onto the couch and offered his full attention to the repairman. The fact he'd been given dinner hadn't seemed to slow his progress down any and Rob respected his work ethic for that. Not his general demeanor, but his work ethic at least.
Then again, maybe his gruff demeanor was explainable by his childhood background. Rob wasn't a shrink, but being tossed about new towns with new people as a tot probably didn't do well when it came to social life development.
Or manners.
"Sorry to hear about your father, though. My condolences."
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Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2017 7:26 am
Kavinsky merely shrugged in response. He didn't want Banks's pity and he wasn't going to elaborate more than what he had to. If the lawyer wanted to know, he could go digging around his public records and find a metaphorical gold mine of information.
Or he could ask, but the Russian hoped he didn't ask.
"Little late for that." It wasn't like Baba had died recently. It'd been nearly a decade, next year. Next year will be a decade since Baba died. The realization makes him tense in an entirely new way and he misses the screw and stabs himself with the screw driver.
Russian expletives spilled from his mouth when he jerked his hand back, a p***k of red blossoming on tanned skin. Irritated, at himself, he reached for one of this work rags and pressed it against the now bleeding wound.
"Don't ask any more questions about my family." He'll talk, just not about that.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 12:48 am
Rob eyerolled at the sassy comment in exchange for what he felt had been polite apologies but eyebrows rose as the sudden burst of curses poured out like rainwater down a gutter. A very angry, very Russian gutter. He hadn't seen what had happened but it didn't take a genius to put two and two together when the white haired kid was yanking his hand back after dropping (assumptive) f-words in a foreign language.
Jesus. That was the last thing he needed - some craigslist repairman, injuring himself in his house.
"Are you okay?"
It felt obligatory to ask, but when he saw Kavinsky cover the area with a rag and then try to gruffly change the subject, he had his suspicions that it wasn't just a stubbed finger they were dealing with.
Rising from the couch, he shook his head and made his way towards the stairs. He wasn't one hundred percent sure but he was pretty sure that he still had a first aid kick stuffed away somewhere in the bathroom.
Making sure he was already ascending the stairs when he called out with a, "I'll get you something to clean it with," Rob disappeared up to the landing without any resistance from the other party.
Well, at least not any resistance that he'd heard.
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Posted: Thu Oct 12, 2017 8:27 am
"I'm fine--" He had gruffly replied, to deaf ears as the lawyer was already climbing stairs to get a first aid kit. The bleeding was minor, already clotting enough that if he kept the cloth pressed there for another minute it was likely to stop completely.
Mostly, he was annoyed that he had let himself be distracted enough to let the tool slip. Rookie mistake and he had long since stopped being a rookie.
By the time Banks made it back downstairs, Kavinsky had gone back to work, the towel wrapped and tied around his hand. It was obvious by the hunch in his shoulders and the narrowing of silver eyes that he was in a mood and not his typical he's-just-an-a*****e mood.
"I'm almost done. I don't need you to give me anything for it." He was straight and to the point, not leaving the older man any room to talk. There was a moment of hesitation when he sighed. "But...thanks."
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Posted: Fri Oct 13, 2017 8:21 am
So maybe he didn't remember where the first aid kit had been stashed. He'd checked the medicine cabinet. He checked under the sink. He checked in the linen closet.
Well, hell.
Finally, low and behold, the small box was located beneath his bed (why???) and he broke open the seal to snap it open. Not much in it was worth bothering with - god only knew how old the sucker had to be. So, grabbing the neosporin and the gauze, he made his way downstairs...only to be more or less dismissed by the white haired grump.
Well fine.
"At least wrap it in this instead of that dirty rag, for christ's sake." The gauze was tossed in the man's direction, the tube soon to follow (for the hell of it). "Last thing you need is an infected hand; won't do you much good repairing things when you're stuck with only five fingers instead of ten."
Shaking his head, he turned to make his way back to the couch, then let out a short laugh. "Besides, can't have you suing me over the loss of a hand because you hurt yourself on my door, now can we?"
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Posted: Fri Oct 13, 2017 8:38 am
He had to stop to catch the items that were tossed his way and he frowned (but he was always frowning) in response. For a second he looked like he was going to say something asinine but his jaw ticked instead and he set the tools in his hand down before carefully unwrapping the towel.
It was discarded with the rest of his things and Kavinsky took the time to put the neosporin on and wrap his hand with the clean gauze.
Nothing else was said, he'd already said thanks, before he was going straight back to work like nothing had happened. Naturally, he was hoping that the lawyer had nothing left to say to him because he was so close but he knew better than to think the universe would do him a favor like that.
Ten minutes later, the project was finished and he was busy cleaning up his things before he bothered to glance Banks' way.
"Job's done."
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Posted: Mon Oct 16, 2017 12:35 pm
The older man didn't bother to leave the couch again, nor did he attempt to poke the figurative bear with any more questions that might have caused some angry retorts. Conversation was kept to a minimum, the occasional question being tossed in Kavinsky's direction and a more or less grunted response returned back.
While he might have been an a*****e, at least he was an a*****e who knew what he was doing when it came to a hammer and nail.
"Then I guess you've done your part and it's time to do mine."
Idle gaze moved from his work to the Russian as he finally uncrossed his legs and rose from the couch. His wallet was retrieved and a handful of twenties appeared in a crisp bundle. Rob had obviously gone to the bank for such an occasion - as fun as it would be to run around with such an amount in his wallet, he wasn't stupid.
Shifting bills from one hand to the other, he ignored the young man rising from the door to count the amount. Three hundred and twenty-five dollars plus the a*****e tax of thirty....
Four hundred dollars was handed over with a genuine smile as Rob nodded his head in Kavinsky's direction. Angry kid or not, he'd provided decent enough conversation - something Rob didn't exactly have access to around the house on a daily basis - and hadn't made Rob wait 'til the weekend to get his stuff fixed. Worth the cost, in his opinion.
"Consider the rest a tip. Hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience, coming out at such a last minute notice."
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Posted: Sun Oct 22, 2017 8:54 am
While he waited for Rob to do whatever showy thing the man decided to do, Kavinsky cleaned up his work area and put his tools back into the ratty bag he had brought with him. They weren't the highest quality, but they got the job done until he could afford to get that nice set he'd been eying. (That was a pipe dream and he knew he wouldn't buy anything new until the ones he had were no longer usable. )
Silver eyes watched as each bill moved while it was counted and when the money was handed his way he took it.
If Banks's tip comment bothered him, he managed to hide it behind his resting b***h face. "Try not to let your cat break so much stuff again." Kavinsky opted to say, tucking the money away before he reached for his stuff and hoisted it over his shoulder. He hesitated, feet turned in the direction of the door.
"If you need more s**t fixed, you know how to reach me." With that, he made his way out the door.
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Posted: Mon Oct 23, 2017 10:27 am
"Ah, for when my cat breaks something else?" He interjected, unable to help the grin growing wider across his face.
If Rob noticed the haggard looking tools the repairman toted (which he did), he didn't make any derogatory comment (though he wanted to). Instead, he remained the charming and jovial man he aspired to create the appearance of, moving to catch the door as the other man left. Where the money he gave him went to wasn't any of his business and, quite frankly, the lawyer didn't care.
Hazel eyes watched him descend the front porch steps and disappear into the darkness of the evening. Once completely out of sight, he flipped off the porch light and locked the door shut, turning to resume the remainder of his evening.
Rob had spent more than he'd cared to on fixing the door, but it had brought about an interesting evening and... well, if he was desperate enough, another option in his arsenal when it came to fixing Bob's ******** time would tell if he actually contacted the grumpy son of a b***h again.
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