Rook listens to the chirping of this little man, who is both adorable and obviously as sunny as his brother is beautiful. There's something unarming about Midnight, Michel. The man is definitely easy to be around. Rook finds it comfortable enough to settle onto a crouch beside him to stretch his calves for a moment.
"Seems like some assholes have set their eyes on the bar," he says carefully, trying not to assume too much or give away any secrets if there are any. "I'll try to help."
He doesn't know how much Michel is aware of how dire the situation is so he doesn't go on further about it.
"And hey, it's not an easy time to be an artist. I'll pay for the work. But maybe you'll show me around the town one of these days instead." Because he's a little worried now that he's going to put his nose somewhere that he shouldn't. And there aren't that many people in this little town, he'd rather not get his head bashed in just for a lack of knowledge.
"All right, I'll play tour guide and give you a steep discount for first-time customer and for saving my brother's pretty ass, then," Midnight counters with a snort. "Because 'some assholes' is putting it very lightly when it comes to those vultures. But Ulysse refuses to ask for help or to give in, so... I'm glad he's at least got some security, now."
He shakes his head and sets his sketchbook down for the moment, stretching his arms above as he jokes, "Guess I'd better make sure you know the way to the emergency room, just in case. Hopefully more for them than for you yourself, you know?"
"He is very pretty, isn't he?" Rook says with a soft snort as he looks out to the water at the gator. "Don't worry. I'll take care of the assholes. They need someone to hurt them to understand that the Roadhouse is off their limits."
His smile is just as pleasant as the gator's as he thinks about the emergency room. He's not going to be visiting much. He can take care of his own injuries. Always has.
Midnight doubts a little hurt is going to stop Anton's goons, but it might at least encourage them to do less... It's a temporary solution while they gather their wits to figure something more permanent out.
He instead addresses the first statement with a playful grin, humming, "You noticed how pretty he is, huh?"
Tempting as it is to encourage Rook to do something about it, Midnight holds back on playing matchmaker for the moment. He's only just met the man, after all, and needs a bit of time to figure out if the fighter is going to be worthy of his brother or not. Not to mention Ulysse is likely to be stubborn about whether he needs or wants a lover any time soon...
"If you've got the time, you should swing by my boat before you head to work," he suggests. "I usually pack Ulysse a dinner to take to the bar, and it wouldn't be hard to make a little extra for you, too, if you'd be willing to play delivery boy for me?"
Rook gives him a sideways glance that says clearly 'how can you not?' to the question about him noticing how pretty Ulysse is. It's quite obvious, isn't it?
He ends up snorting softly at the invitation to grab dinner on the brothers, though. It seems like this town is full of helpful people. He doesn't have anything better to do, though, so he nods.
"Sure, I can play delivery boy," he agrees easily. "Where's your boat?"
Beaming, Midnight nods towards the boat in question at the end of the pier. "That one right there with the wind chimes," he says. "You okay with gumbo? You're welcome to come a bit earlier to have some coffee, too."
Which would give him some time to feel out this stranger some more.
Rook peers at the little boat and marks it on his mental map. He'll round back there after he's taken a dip in the ocean to clean up and changed some clothes. He doesn't have a car or any other way of moving about but he's just fine walking these distances.
"Okay," he murmurs. "I'd like to see more of your art. So, maybe I'll come over a bit earlier."
"I'll have some stuff pulled up for you, then," Midnight promises with a bright grin. "We should get along just fine."
The gator is apparently bored of the men who are not food after all and turns, slowly crawling back to the water. Midnight chuckles and calls to it, "See you later! Don't eat the cats!"
Rook watches the gator slip into the water and disappear, listening to Midnight chatter to the creature with a soft snort. This man definitely is a character.
"I'll see you later then," he says as he straightens up and stretches his legs a bit. He'll finish his run before having a quick shower. He'll have amble time to walk back to Midnight's little boat and then to work tonight.
Midnight's out on the deck in the evening, idly smoking and keeping an eye out for his visitor. He's got two neatly packed giant soup thermoses full of gumbo and rice for Rook and Ulysse in the kitchen, and as promised, he's got a couple of sketchbooks and a tablet out for the bouncer to look over his art once he's there.
Rook makes his way over a little before his shift is about to start. He doesn't wear the Roadhouse uniform, but a simple pair of jeans and a denim jacket, his hair on ponytail.
"Permission to come aboard," he calls out from the dock.
He's met with a blinding grin and Midnight waves as he greets, "Hey! Yeah, hop on over."
Rook's lack of uniform is noted with a little nod over his clothing in general and Midnight comments, "I guess Ulysse hasn't given you a uniform, yet. Though he never really forces people to wear it... Still, might not be a bad idea to give you some visible sign that you're the security so people don't just think you're another troublemaker."
He'll be surprised if Ulysse hasn't prepared something just for that. His brother's detail-oriented like that.
He pads barefooted across the deck, cigarette ground out in an ashtray before he carefully opens the door, greeted with an annoyed meow to which he retorts, "I'm sorry, madam, but I don't want you or your unborn young being gator bait."
The heavily pregnant cat is herded to one side so Rook can step inside after Midnight, the door quickly shut behind them. She flicks her tail in irritation, giving the men an aloof stare before wobbling off elsewhere.
Midnight shrugs and gestures for Rook to follow him, leading him through the small and tidy cabin towards the kitchen. There are bright splashes of colour everywhere in the form of woven rugs and throws, strings of beads in place of doors, and some photos hung up showing Midnight and his brothers, Grey and his brood, as well as their friends. The kitchen is just as cosy, currently smelling of gumbo even with the windows open, and Midnight pats one of the stools in passing.
"Take a seat, I'll get the coffee sorted. How do you take yours?" He also nods to the sketchbooks, explaining, "Feel free to take a look, that's a bunch of sketches with some shots of the finished pieces."
"I'm sure he has that covered," Rook shrugs as he climbs on board, casually looking around while he follows Midnight towards the cabin. Ulysse sure seems like a dude, who has thought it through and Rook is more than willing to leave that part of the job to him. He'll handle the more hands on business.
He gives the cat an equally cool look, their eyes meeting with understanding before she vanishes. Then Rook takes his time taking in the interior of the cabin, the homely splashes of colour and pictures, little details that tell him that this little man is very fond of his place here. He can spot the brothers easily in the photos, curiously peering at one where Ulysse is smiling. He hasn't seen that broad an expression on the man's face before and it's fascinating to see how it transforms his features. (Still radiantly beautiful.)
The rest of the men look either familiar or completely strange. He can spot the cop, Ulysse's boyfriend, confirmed more or less with the familiar way the dude is leaning against Ulysse in one of the pictures. There's Kai, the bartender and his nurse boyfriend. Damian, the buff waiter, and Arie, the third brother. Rook is pretty certain he saw the big man - obviously Midnight's - some time in the bar but doesn't know anything about him. It's a whole gallery, isn't it?
He gives a last glance at the photos before he lets his feet take him to a chair Midnight pointed out and takes a seat, grabbing the first sketchbook to fiddle through it carefully.
"I'm not picky," he says and means it. He'll drink whatever Midnight puts in front of him.
Rook isn't made to hurry through the house at all, even when Midnight might notice him examining the various photos, or how he'd lingered over one of Ulysse caught mid-laugh. That in particular is a gem as far as Midnight's concerned, given how rarely his brother laughs so freely, and he's pleased people appreciate it.
"Yeah, but there must be something you're less picky about than others, right?" he shoots back as he prepares a mug.
"Black? Americano? Milk? Sugar?" A brief pause, and then with a cheeky grin, "Whiskey?"
With a snort, Rook looks up from the sketch book and gives a wry look at Midnight. Ulysse definitely would appreciate it if he'd show up to work smelling of booze.
"Black's just fine," he says easily. "Don't make a fuss about it."
His gaze returns to the drawings, enjoying the shift of colours and styles across the pages. Obviously Midnight knows how to do it all like he said.
"You always knew you gonna be an artist?" he asks curiously.
"I mean..." Midnight trails off with a laugh as he pours the coffee, setting the mug down by Rook's arm. This is then quickly followed by a little plate of honey biscuits that had been kept warm in the oven. "I always liked art?"
He plops down in the stool next to Rook and helps himself to a biscuit, shrugging as he explains, "My dad was a guitarist. Mom was a painter. I guess our family sort of leans in that direction. Arie, my oldest brother, he's a musician. Ulysse was into dancing for a while..."
But with looking after his baby brother and then later their infirmed father, Ulysse had had to give up that passion, something which still twists the guilty knife in Midnight's gut. He doesn't let the sad look linger too long on his face, though, determinedly pushing on and popping a piece of pastry into his mouth as he says cheerfully, "Hopefully once things settle a bit more with the Roadhouse, he can pick that up again at least as a hobby, you know?"
"Thanks," Rook mutters when the coffee appears by his elbow. He takes a sip carefully, making sure not to burn his mouth. Then he settles to listen Midnight while he flips through the drawings some more.
"He seems to have that kind of grace," he comments. "Make sense he's a dancer."
He files away the little bits of information about his new boss. He's honest enough to admit that Ulysse has become something of a fascination for him. A fascination that will have to stay platonic unfortunately but fascination all the same.
"What kind of dancing?" he asks curiously then, not looking up from the sketchbook. So, what? He's curious. So sue him.
Midnight doesn't bother to look down at his art as the book is flipped through, focused more on watching Rook's face as he speaks. He likes studying faces, and Rook has a rather interestingly shaped on, after all. He's also contemplating asking the bouncer to model for him sometime when it's not their second meeting.
"A bit of this, a bit of that," he hums, smiling privately as he notes Rook's reserved interest for Ulysse. Hmm... "He was really into ballroom dancing, before, and dabbled a bit in contemporary on his own."
"Not interested enough to be a professional?" Rook asks. He knows something about the life of a professional athlete, especially one that competes in a field that is mostly about entertainment. It's not easy, you have to want it. A lot.
He hopes that is why Ulysse quit dancing, and not something else that forced his hand.
He doesn't realise that he's under the scrutiny of the little artist. There's plenty enough taking his attention elsewhere.
"... Nah, he had to look after me during school, and after that, we both had to focus on taking care of our father," Midnight sighs, some of that sunniness finally dimming a bit. "After he passed, Ulysse just said he was too old to even try to go pro and that he was happy staying here."
Not to mention Anton had been so very strongly against his then-boyfriend escaping out from under his thumb, let alone leaving town to pursue a career in dance, but Midnight's not up for sharing that just yet.
"There's a few clubs here, though, and I know a couple of restaurants and bars have started doing dance nights, so maybe once he can get things under control at the Roadhouse, I'll be able to convince him to take a night off here and there to go have some fun, you know?"
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no subject
"Seems like some assholes have set their eyes on the bar," he says carefully, trying not to assume too much or give away any secrets if there are any. "I'll try to help."
He doesn't know how much Michel is aware of how dire the situation is so he doesn't go on further about it.
"And hey, it's not an easy time to be an artist. I'll pay for the work. But maybe you'll show me around the town one of these days instead." Because he's a little worried now that he's going to put his nose somewhere that he shouldn't. And there aren't that many people in this little town, he'd rather not get his head bashed in just for a lack of knowledge.
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"All right, I'll play tour guide and give you a steep discount for first-time customer and for saving my brother's pretty ass, then," Midnight counters with a snort. "Because 'some assholes' is putting it very lightly when it comes to those vultures. But Ulysse refuses to ask for help or to give in, so... I'm glad he's at least got some security, now."
He shakes his head and sets his sketchbook down for the moment, stretching his arms above as he jokes, "Guess I'd better make sure you know the way to the emergency room, just in case. Hopefully more for them than for you yourself, you know?"
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His smile is just as pleasant as the gator's as he thinks about the emergency room. He's not going to be visiting much. He can take care of his own injuries. Always has.
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Midnight doubts a little hurt is going to stop Anton's goons, but it might at least encourage them to do less... It's a temporary solution while they gather their wits to figure something more permanent out.
He instead addresses the first statement with a playful grin, humming, "You noticed how pretty he is, huh?"
Tempting as it is to encourage Rook to do something about it, Midnight holds back on playing matchmaker for the moment. He's only just met the man, after all, and needs a bit of time to figure out if the fighter is going to be worthy of his brother or not. Not to mention Ulysse is likely to be stubborn about whether he needs or wants a lover any time soon...
"If you've got the time, you should swing by my boat before you head to work," he suggests. "I usually pack Ulysse a dinner to take to the bar, and it wouldn't be hard to make a little extra for you, too, if you'd be willing to play delivery boy for me?"
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He ends up snorting softly at the invitation to grab dinner on the brothers, though. It seems like this town is full of helpful people. He doesn't have anything better to do, though, so he nods.
"Sure, I can play delivery boy," he agrees easily. "Where's your boat?"
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Beaming, Midnight nods towards the boat in question at the end of the pier. "That one right there with the wind chimes," he says. "You okay with gumbo? You're welcome to come a bit earlier to have some coffee, too."
Which would give him some time to feel out this stranger some more.
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"Okay," he murmurs. "I'd like to see more of your art. So, maybe I'll come over a bit earlier."
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"I'll have some stuff pulled up for you, then," Midnight promises with a bright grin. "We should get along just fine."
The gator is apparently bored of the men who are not food after all and turns, slowly crawling back to the water. Midnight chuckles and calls to it, "See you later! Don't eat the cats!"
As though it would listen.
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"I'll see you later then," he says as he straightens up and stretches his legs a bit. He'll finish his run before having a quick shower. He'll have amble time to walk back to Midnight's little boat and then to work tonight.
no subject
Midnight's out on the deck in the evening, idly smoking and keeping an eye out for his visitor. He's got two neatly packed giant soup thermoses full of gumbo and rice for Rook and Ulysse in the kitchen, and as promised, he's got a couple of sketchbooks and a tablet out for the bouncer to look over his art once he's there.
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"Permission to come aboard," he calls out from the dock.
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He's met with a blinding grin and Midnight waves as he greets, "Hey! Yeah, hop on over."
Rook's lack of uniform is noted with a little nod over his clothing in general and Midnight comments, "I guess Ulysse hasn't given you a uniform, yet. Though he never really forces people to wear it... Still, might not be a bad idea to give you some visible sign that you're the security so people don't just think you're another troublemaker."
He'll be surprised if Ulysse hasn't prepared something just for that. His brother's detail-oriented like that.
He pads barefooted across the deck, cigarette ground out in an ashtray before he carefully opens the door, greeted with an annoyed meow to which he retorts, "I'm sorry, madam, but I don't want you or your unborn young being gator bait."
The heavily pregnant cat is herded to one side so Rook can step inside after Midnight, the door quickly shut behind them. She flicks her tail in irritation, giving the men an aloof stare before wobbling off elsewhere.
Midnight shrugs and gestures for Rook to follow him, leading him through the small and tidy cabin towards the kitchen. There are bright splashes of colour everywhere in the form of woven rugs and throws, strings of beads in place of doors, and some photos hung up showing Midnight and his brothers, Grey and his brood, as well as their friends. The kitchen is just as cosy, currently smelling of gumbo even with the windows open, and Midnight pats one of the stools in passing.
"Take a seat, I'll get the coffee sorted. How do you take yours?" He also nods to the sketchbooks, explaining, "Feel free to take a look, that's a bunch of sketches with some shots of the finished pieces."
no subject
He gives the cat an equally cool look, their eyes meeting with understanding before she vanishes. Then Rook takes his time taking in the interior of the cabin, the homely splashes of colour and pictures, little details that tell him that this little man is very fond of his place here. He can spot the brothers easily in the photos, curiously peering at one where Ulysse is smiling. He hasn't seen that broad an expression on the man's face before and it's fascinating to see how it transforms his features. (Still radiantly beautiful.)
The rest of the men look either familiar or completely strange. He can spot the cop, Ulysse's boyfriend, confirmed more or less with the familiar way the dude is leaning against Ulysse in one of the pictures. There's Kai, the bartender and his nurse boyfriend. Damian, the buff waiter, and Arie, the third brother. Rook is pretty certain he saw the big man - obviously Midnight's - some time in the bar but doesn't know anything about him. It's a whole gallery, isn't it?
He gives a last glance at the photos before he lets his feet take him to a chair Midnight pointed out and takes a seat, grabbing the first sketchbook to fiddle through it carefully.
"I'm not picky," he says and means it. He'll drink whatever Midnight puts in front of him.
no subject
Rook isn't made to hurry through the house at all, even when Midnight might notice him examining the various photos, or how he'd lingered over one of Ulysse caught mid-laugh. That in particular is a gem as far as Midnight's concerned, given how rarely his brother laughs so freely, and he's pleased people appreciate it.
"Yeah, but there must be something you're less picky about than others, right?" he shoots back as he prepares a mug.
"Black? Americano? Milk? Sugar?" A brief pause, and then with a cheeky grin, "Whiskey?"
no subject
"Black's just fine," he says easily. "Don't make a fuss about it."
His gaze returns to the drawings, enjoying the shift of colours and styles across the pages. Obviously Midnight knows how to do it all like he said.
"You always knew you gonna be an artist?" he asks curiously.
no subject
"I mean..." Midnight trails off with a laugh as he pours the coffee, setting the mug down by Rook's arm. This is then quickly followed by a little plate of honey biscuits that had been kept warm in the oven. "I always liked art?"
He plops down in the stool next to Rook and helps himself to a biscuit, shrugging as he explains, "My dad was a guitarist. Mom was a painter. I guess our family sort of leans in that direction. Arie, my oldest brother, he's a musician. Ulysse was into dancing for a while..."
But with looking after his baby brother and then later their infirmed father, Ulysse had had to give up that passion, something which still twists the guilty knife in Midnight's gut. He doesn't let the sad look linger too long on his face, though, determinedly pushing on and popping a piece of pastry into his mouth as he says cheerfully, "Hopefully once things settle a bit more with the Roadhouse, he can pick that up again at least as a hobby, you know?"
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"He seems to have that kind of grace," he comments. "Make sense he's a dancer."
He files away the little bits of information about his new boss. He's honest enough to admit that Ulysse has become something of a fascination for him. A fascination that will have to stay platonic unfortunately but fascination all the same.
"What kind of dancing?" he asks curiously then, not looking up from the sketchbook. So, what? He's curious. So sue him.
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Midnight doesn't bother to look down at his art as the book is flipped through, focused more on watching Rook's face as he speaks. He likes studying faces, and Rook has a rather interestingly shaped on, after all. He's also contemplating asking the bouncer to model for him sometime when it's not their second meeting.
"A bit of this, a bit of that," he hums, smiling privately as he notes Rook's reserved interest for Ulysse. Hmm... "He was really into ballroom dancing, before, and dabbled a bit in contemporary on his own."
no subject
He hopes that is why Ulysse quit dancing, and not something else that forced his hand.
He doesn't realise that he's under the scrutiny of the little artist. There's plenty enough taking his attention elsewhere.
no subject
"... Nah, he had to look after me during school, and after that, we both had to focus on taking care of our father," Midnight sighs, some of that sunniness finally dimming a bit. "After he passed, Ulysse just said he was too old to even try to go pro and that he was happy staying here."
Not to mention Anton had been so very strongly against his then-boyfriend escaping out from under his thumb, let alone leaving town to pursue a career in dance, but Midnight's not up for sharing that just yet.
"There's a few clubs here, though, and I know a couple of restaurants and bars have started doing dance nights, so maybe once he can get things under control at the Roadhouse, I'll be able to convince him to take a night off here and there to go have some fun, you know?"