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 Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2016 2:39 pm
“You’re shitting me.“ Isaiah gazed down at the thick layer of water coating the floor and scoffed. The water itself looked milky - the blue-white, opaqueness of it lapped rhythmically at the floor while the washer continued to seize. Mountains of bubbles built up near the machine and formed a perfect island of soapy hell. The bubbles vibrated in place with every round of the wash, and more continued to flow out the top of the old appliance. Even with all the surfactant in the water, he wasn’t going in there. It wasn’t his name on the lease.
He repeated himself with an addendum: „You’re ******** shitting me.“
Scruffy-faced from his lack of shaving that morning, Isaiah stroked the stubble in mounting disgust. Not only did the washer threaten to drown him, but he looked like he just… Rolled out of bed. Obviously this was unacceptable, but he knew not whether he could leave the washer unattended long enough to remedy this problem.
And what was he supposed to do about it, anyway? Isaiah never qualified as the traditional DIY Manly Man that knew his way around a two-by-four and six different types of screwdrivers. His repair skills were basic at best, his tech skills only slightly better, and he had to rely on Blaine largely for the finished product of that simple signet upgrade. ‚Fix a washer‘ simply asked too much of him right now. Besides, wasn’t there a cooldown period after flexing one’s Manly Muscle? Rolling his eyes, Isaiah split from the scene.
After shutting the door, naturally.
With a cigarette in hand and a cell phone in the other, Isaiah called up the familiar number to one Pietro Blah von Blah Blah Who Gives a s**t, a man with far too many names to his face. He pressed phone to ear while he tried vainly to force his lighter to sputter to a start. The usual ring ensued.
„Hey,“ he called into the speaker. „I got a job for you. Meet me at the apartment. 6024 Spruce Street. ASAP if you can.“
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2016 3:00 pm
Kavinksy had been in the middle of a delivery when he got the phone call. In his opnion it was too ******** early to have been called for some random-a** delivery, but the client always paid extra when it was a rush order so there he was out on the streets when he'd rather be home with a pillow over his face. Pulling the phone from his jean jacket pocket, worn fingers slid the button to accept.
"Kavinsky here," he answered gruffly, grunting as he shifted the package and the phone to a hold that was more secure. The voice was a familiar one, Isaiah Zähne always had some of the oddest jobs to give him, and he made a noise that should have sounded like a strangled sound of agreement. "Okay," he clarified, pushing open the glass door of the apartment complex he'd been directed to deliver the good too.
"Is this a delivery or do I need to bring my tools?" He asked, getting the recipient's signature. He waited long enough to get confirmation from Isaiah before saying, "okay, gotta swing by the house. Be there in twenty." Luckily for the Russian teen, his apartment wasn't too far from where he was.
So he made a point to swing in, grab what he thought he might need, and avoid making eye contact with Ellis. They were still at odds over his refusal to take a break from work and get his G.E.D. He didn't have time and he sure as hell didn't have the money to spare if he wasn't consistently working.
But Ellis didn't get that and with a job that needed to be done, Kavinsky didn't have time for another argument.
Twenty-two minutes after he hung up on Isaiah, Kavinsky arrived at 6024 Spruce Street with a bag slung over his shoulders, his trademark jean jacket, worn jeans and white v-neck. His knuckles rapped on the door and he tried to look less scowly while he waited.
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2016 3:38 pm
Isaiah answered the door with as much of a smile as he could manage. Naturally he ignored the heinous mess in the laundry room, but his anxiety reminded him ad nauseum of the destruction going on behind closed doors. „Ah, good, you’re here. Could’ve used you earlier but not all of us can teleport…“ He left the reference be, and ushered the boy inside.
„So I know you’re used to deliveries and all that, but this time I have a different assignment for you. One that might make use of your other talents. You see, ah…“ Slowly he started walking toward the guest bedroom, where across the hall lay Ground Zero. „There’s been a bit of an accident, and I need you to clean it up. I’ll be straight with you - it’s an impressive mess in there. And, if my roommate sees it, I’m probably dead. But, really, it’s not my fault; they didn’t exactly write the word ‚concentrated‘ in big, bold letters…“ Finally the sputtering jet lighter caught, and he lit his cigarette in a hurry.
Isaiah stopped only when he reached the Double Doors of Death. Against the wall he leaned, where he blew his smoke out the window. „If you can make this go away, I’ll give you a bonus of credit at my shop. I’m sure there’s something there that you wouldn’t mind having. Now, go on.“ He urged Kavinsky toward the door.
„Just, ah, don’t slip.“
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2016 4:32 pm
Despite the man's attempts to smile, Kavinsky didn't bother to try and return it. Instead, he raised one pale brow and worked on just looking like he didn't hate everything. It half-worked, but the attempt fizzled at the quip he didn't understand. "Not all of us have luxury transportation. I was in the middle of a job when you called. Be glad I got here when I did." His words came out blunter than he intended but he offered no apologies, instead opting to follow Isaiah towards the source of his ailment.
Kavinsky grunted in response, debating over whether or not it would be polite to take his boots off. In the end, he opted to keep his boots on and was immediately grateful for that decision when the problem was presented to him.
"Deliveries, repair work...It's all the same." Simple tasks that only took some effort from his mechanically inclined mind. A job was a job in the end and truthfully, Kavinksy was more inclined to fix things. His skills in that department far surpassed any other and he had Baba to thank for that.
The Russian sighed, cursed beneath his breath as he looked at the way the machine was sputtering water this way and that. "Where's the water valve? The sooner we shut it off the better." He stepped forward, set his bag on top of the dryer then tugged his jacket off and set it somewhere where it would hopefully remain dry.
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 8:40 am
“Tell me about it. I still haven’t heard back from the insurance company.“ Carefully he tapped out ashes into the tray that fitted the window. A few dead bugs and some dust still lingered there, and he cringed at the sight of it. „I used to live alone in a nice condo. Not fancy, but nice. Then a fire broke out, and everything I owned burned, and some of the wreckage fell on my car. That last bit was a nice touch, too. Window blew out, glass flew everywhere,“ he paused to mimic the explosion with his hands, „and then s**t fell all over my car. Broke the windshield, bent up the hood, and just… Totaled the ********. I liked that Charger, too.“ He pouted, then drew on his cigarette.
„No car and no new condo until those assholes pay out. But since arson is suspected, the whole payout’s suspended until it’s proven it wasn’t my fault. It’s such s**t. And riding the bus is garbage. Sitting with all those glum-looking folks… You can’t help but feel like a social failure yourself. I mean, America is basically built on cars.“
Isaiah started to watch Kavinsky as he walked in on the apocalypse. He watched with interest until he smelled burnt plastic, and quickly realized he was burning a hole in the screen. „s**t, s**t!“ He cursed to himself as he blew on the fresh carnage.
Then Kavinsky was cursing, and he was all kinds of anxious. „Water valve? Uh, I don’t know. It’s not my place and I’m no DIYer. I think it’s in the basement?“ Isaiah hoped so, but then again, he knew little about the converted home. Hell, he remembered looking for a circuit breaker and finding some s**t with fuses in it instead. Gwen needed to take care of that one herself.
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 9:05 am
Kavinsky listened with mild interest, responding only with grunts as he shifted the machine enough that he could get behind it and see what the damage really was. Gray eyes shifted back to Isaiah when the vehicle was mentioned, from the look on his face it was clear he thought that was a shame. Water sloshed around his boots as he tried to pick his way out of the mess so he could find the valve.
He didn't know enough about the man and his income to assume that he could afford to replace the things he lost. It didn't sound like it anyway, or he wouldn't be living with a roommate in a home that was clearly not his. If anyone understood money woes, it was Kavinsky, who had struggled his entire life to make ends meet.
"Could look into something cheap for a temporary vehicle." He grunted as he made his way towards where he assumed he'd find the basement. They'd have to get towels out soon, to keep from tracking soap and water across the house. "Repair work can be affordable if you find the right mechanic." The shop he worked for did their best to keep things affordable for the poorer folk.
Kavinsky didn't have a vehicle because he couldn't afford the insurance on one.
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2016 7:48 am
“I was thinking about it.“ Isaiah stubbed out the butt of his cigarette in the sill and left it propped up fro later memory. „I mean, I wouldn’t mind driving around one of those Dodge Darts, and they’re not all that expensive for a rental car. I know I’m not hauling s**t around so I don’t need the utility of an SUV. The real sticking point, though, is that it really adds up in the long run. 24 bucks a day adds up to 720 in thirty. That’s a rent payment right there, going into a car.
„Besides, I hear tell that dropping driving means you lose a few pounds for all the walking you start doing. I might be holding onto that thought a little hard,“ he added on the side, looking down at himself. He remembered, quite clearly, a thinner him. Couch surfing and moping about his apartment afforded no favors. „Damn would I love it if I never had to eat again…“
At the mention of affordable mechanics, he watched Kavinsky’s retreating figure. „It’s why I called you.“
A few moments passed, and in the ensuing silence, Isaiah heard the water slow to a halt. „It’s off now,“ he shouted into the depths of the apartment, uncertain if the younger man could hear. Isaiah still made no attempt to step into the mess. Clean or not, a mess was still a mess.
Idly he wondered if Kavinsky peeked at the bras that Gwen had hanging up, or took a look at the load of laundry still in the beleaguered machine. Maybe he’d get a kick out of the thigh-highs mixed in with the dress shirts.
„How long have you been doing this s**t anyway? The repair work, I mean. Seems like a job people get fed up with after a year.“
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2016 10:23 am
"I didn't mean a rental," Kavinsky said in the gruff manner of his when he came back up the stairs. Wiping his hands on his jeans he picked his way through the slosh of soapy water before using moving the washer carefully around so he could squeeze behind it.
Kavinsky had nice arms, or so he'd been told, with strong muscles more prominent as he shifted the heavy machine in his short-sleeved shirt. Despite Isaiah's internal curiosity if he was phased by the mishmash of clothing or the bras hanging too and fro, it was clear that the Russian boy's attention was solely on the project at hand. Things like fancy undergarments only drew his attention to how impractical and costly they were. When he had a job, it was all he seemed to focus on.
"Wouldn't know," he grunted, the sound of something clanging as he rifled through his tools and worded obscuring his words. "I don't drive." Not because he couldn't or didn't want to, but because it was a luxury that he couldn't afford. "Could you gather up available towels? Better mop up what I can so it doesn't cause any additional damage." Long fingers tapped against the side of the machine as he twisted a tool this way and that.
"For as long as I can remember." That was the easiest answer. "It's a family thing," he added, shrugging despite knowing that Isaiah couldn't see him. Then, offhandedly; "I'm good with my hands."
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2016 3:19 pm
“Well pardon me, grumpy-butt,“ Isaiah sassed to himself when Kavinsky returned. „I know just the cure for that attitude.“ Lewd motions were made at Kavinsky’s back after the man passed.
If the worst-case scenario happened and the repair went poorly, and no refund was possibly, he at least got a good show of it. Isaiah considered himself a connoisseur of the male figure just as well as the female figure, and Kavinsky wasn’t short on good points. Tattoos would help, he decided. Isaiah was a sucker for tattoos on men. Women too, come to think of it.
At the ask for towels, Isaiah pushed off form his station by the window. he crossed back into the bathroom, where he dug out a collection of mismatched articles - beach towels, band towels, and the usual monocolor terrycloth towels made to match the bath mats. He draped each over his arm until he amassed a considerable wad of them, and backtracked to where Kavinsky tooled around with the project. Isaiah set to tossing them upon the floor from the dry area, for he loathed to step in the damp mush of the laundry room floor. „It’s a good idea. There’s tenants downstairs, and I don’t really want to meet them.“ Not over this, at least.
I’m good with my hands, he said, and Isaiah quirked a brow. „Are you now? I’m jealous, then. I could use those hands on my plumbing.“ A smirk, where he lurked from the doorframe. „You wanna? I’ve got a couple hours to spare.“nuxaz i'm sorry kavinsky, i really am
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2016 4:18 pm
Gray eyes glanced at the smaller, slender man for a split second before returning to focus on his work. Kavinsky remained silent as he worked, though he did look up now and again to indicate that he was listening. In the end, when the problem appeared to be contained, he rose from behind the dresser and wiped his forehead on his sleeve.
Carefully, he slipped out from behind the machine and stepped towards the towels that Isaiah had littered across the damp floor. With a grunt, he squatted, keeping his knees above the water and mopped up it best he could. Surmising he'd done as best he could without fresh towels he stood and nodded at the machine.
"Should be fine to test," he instructed, patting the metal. "We'll need more towels or, if you have the time, I can see about borrowing carpet cleaner but that might take a while. Or, a hair dryer will work just be a slow process."
Business address and aside, Kavinsky folded his arm across his chest as he leaned back against the dryer. "So I'm told," he answered, expression stoic and the Russian boy was clearly unfazed by the insinuations.
"You're not really my type. You look breakable." His head tilted slightly and he appeared to be giving Isaiah a once over.
hetzerei that's okay, you'd be surprised by what doesn't phase him
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Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 11:46 am
Isaiah tsked. „Many have tried, none have succeeded. I’m sturdier than I look.“ His arms barred the path out of the laundry room for how he stood in the doorway. Gwen always objected to casual encounters, however, since she could not process separating emotions from sex. The thought alone left him frustrated; why should a relationship feel so smothering?
He pouted exaggeratedly. „But, if you’re more interested in playing with a carpet clearner…“ A hand fell and he stood aside, though remained with spine pressed against one side of the doorframe. „I don’t have any more towels, but there’s one of those strange all-in-one stores just down the street that rents out carpet cleaners by the day. I think it’s Rug Doctor.
„Go figure though, I don’t have a rug to doctor.“ He cast gaze over to Kavinsky. Get that, Ruski? Bare floors here. No carpet burn if you polish my knob.nuxaz if by surprised you mean delighted lol
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Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 11:59 am
As usual, Kavinsky looked unimpressed by Isaiah's counter. Again, he looked the man over, head tilting slightly and gray eyes narrowing. "There is more meat on your bones than usual." Perhaps Isaiah would take offense to that, but for the recently legal teen, it was an observation that meant he found it somewhat appealing. "Less bruising," he added, tone less gruff and mildly contemplative.
That was the thing about having partners who were too bony, thin.
Kavinksy pushed off the dryer and stepped towards the man purposely blocking his exit, towels squishing beneath his boots. Standing too his full height he looked down, flicker of amusement and possible interest shifting across his usually blank expression. Corners of his mouth twisted upward.
"You would choose to abandon what remains of your mess for a chance at something equally messy?" Kavinsky was amused, or as amused as he got, by the man who employed him for odd jobs here and there. This was the first time he'd spend in prolonged company.
"If you want something, say it. Games are only entertaining at the start."
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Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 2:05 pm
“Are you calling me fat?“ Isaiah leveled an objectionable glare at him, but some mischievous remained. He didn’t take the repair man’s words entirely to heart, and wondered briefly what that meant for himself. „But what’s wrong with bruising? Bruising is half the fun.“ Like small reminders of a good time past, he figured. Many a slow daw found some relief by pressing on hickies left behind.
„I’d pull you into bed if half the house was coming down,“ Isaiah answered matter-of-factly, eye contact unfaltering. „The washer’s fixed, right? We can just ******** in the shower after you turn the water back on. Saves a mess.“ The floor wouldn’t clean itself, but it wasn’t going to get any worse either. This opportunity promised far more payoff for him than observing fidelity and sopping up the carpet. Unfortunately, there were some tools that Gwen simply lacked - she’d just have to learn that it wasn’t personal.
Assuming she ever found out.
„I’m not one to mince words, stud. Let’s have some fun. Unless you’re one of those disappointingly straight guys, of course. Come on,“ he made a grab for Kavinsky’s belt and started to tread backwards. „I’ve got three tongue rings,“ he finished with a cheeky smile.
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Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 2:35 pm
"Hardly," he replied, rough edge to his voice as his smirk slipped due to the insinuation. "Calling you fat would be like saying the sun is made of ice. Completely untrue. Ludicrous." He was not someone that said things to appease another person. He didn't bite his tongue or lie, there was no benefit to dishonesty.
Withholding the truth was different, sort of.
The rational side of him was telling him this was a bad idea, because he still had a job to do and for all he knew, he had other jobs to do but -
There was so much tension built up, settled between the spaces of his spine and across the seams of his body and Isaiah was promising something tempting, rewarding and Kavinsky had always been someone who tended to act before thinking something through. "Should be," he answered distracted, gaze dropping to the hands grabbing at his belt.
Rational thrown out the window, he let himself be pulled out of the room and towards Isaiah. One pale brow lifted at the statement and, having made his decision, he gripped Isaiah by the hips and pushed him back against the closet wall. "Not quite," was his response at the casual inquiry of his orientation. "Doesn't have to be the shower," he added, pressing a palm against the wall when he leaned down.
He wasn't really picky about places.hetzerei i have no control over him or his choices ¯_(ツ)_/¯
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Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 3:30 pm
He liked the space of intimacy, the invitation to do unto others as he would do unto himself if ever he got the opportunity. Popping belts in enclosed spaces was no trouble, either. Pants were bound to come with.
„Let me show you the joys of metal,“ he said, as he slid down the wall.
Business would resume in a couple hours. he was certain.nuxaz when opportunity knocks boots... fin
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