2020-06-19 - Who Moved My Cheese?

Grant was never a wine guy before. He does like new things however. Slouched with, foot propped up on the ottoman so his bare toes can feel the breeze he's still musing the .jpg sent to him of a puppy sneaking about in a sweater looking guilty as hell.

"Pretty certain that's me as a puppy sneaking into the kitchen at 2-something a.m. to steal cheese. I don't remember ever being a doggo but I'd believe it." Rolling a look over, eyebrow raised he signs, "You take this picture?"

The plan of couch-moving met with some dubiousness and the note that there are already things to lounge on ON the balcony... but for one reason or another, surely not that the couch is a fair bit more conducive to being comfortably shared, here the couch now temporarily sits before the doors. Bax didn't even have to do it entirely alone, though a good portion of Vyv's contribution involved instructions and adjustments to ensure neither the wood of the couch nor the wood of the floor were wounded in this endeavour.

He's a good deal more relaxed now, bare feet crossed at the ankles and resting by Grant's on the ottoman, in the breeze. Plus, he has wine. It's very good wine, because as with virtually anything he has a say in, why bother with any that isn't? At the description and question he arcs a brow right back, and leans in to take a look at the image. The brow quirks further. "No." A sip. "No, I didn't take that picture, and also simply no. When there are no pants, there can be no shirt. Puppy or no puppy, you are not a cartoon character." He's not going to claim he can't imagine Bax as a puppy, though. "...and if I had plans for that cheese, you're replacing it." Theoretically. Yes? Probably theoretically.

Grant swivels his foot back and forth considering the pic and puts the phone away. Dropping his head back into Vyv's shoulder and looking over with a wry grin that is definitely up to something he asks, "Iiiiiif the book ate me would you say the same to the book?" Is he fishing? Oh yeah. He's fishing from the taciturn chef.

Considering the cheese replacing he murmurs slightly astonished, "You lemme pick out you cheeses? Wow. This is like a new level to our relationship." He might be joking but it might be true. Still he's too amused waiting on word about the book that shot a hole through his hand and tried to drown them all.

"No. I'd let you replace the same cheese I'd chosen. I trust you wouldn't devour my potential ingredients without even making a note of what they were." Which is to say, you'd better not devour my potential ingredients without even making a note of what they were, but surely the fact Vyv might put up with the devouring at all says something.

Given the fact that the weather has finally noticed it's summer, Vyv's not only gone with an ivory linen two-piece suit today, but the jacket's long been shed, leaving the shoulder currently being pressed into service as a pillow one covered in purple gingham. The arm attached seems to have absently curled itself around the skater in response. He glances sidelong at Bax, a look that suggests the fishing has not gone unnoticed, and yet: "The book would give you back or I'd kill it. Or both. You're slightly trickier to replace than shredded cheese." A pause. "And I don't endorse books going about in just a shirt either, regardless of what or whom they might or might not attempt to devour."

Grant settles in, bandaged hand resting against his pulled up knee. Yeah sometimes he's easily pleased and so damn smug about it. "Soooo you like me more than purposeful cheese? Awww that's so sweet." He might be picking on Vyv a bit, but without malice. The more Vyv puts stipulation on the book the wider Bax's grin gets. Oh no... nono... don't say it...

"How about just... " (don't you dare, Bax) "a Jacket?"

Goddamit man. OH he's so pleased with that one.

Vyv mns. "'Purposeful Cheese' sounds like a terrible band." And yet, possibly not as terrible as Grant's joke, which gets narrowed eyes, but only slightly narrowed. As though any more would be more acknowledgement than it deserved. "If your jacket covers full-length from your top to bottom edges, I suppose that will suffice. Although at that point, it may simply qualify as a dress." He takes a lingering sip of his wine, and then another sidelong glance toward Bax. "But yes. Broadly speaking, outside of culinary intentions, I would generally prefer you to shredded cheese."

He gives the view over the balcony a considering look. "Speaking of you and less than flattering clothing choices, however, that reminds me. We're going shopping sometime soon. Perhaps when we head out for karaoke. If you still want to do that, of course."

Grant grins soooo pleased with himself "Aaaah he likes me more than cheese." he'll be riding that lil high for a bit. With more than a hint of 'definitely up to something' the skater muses, "I dunno. I'm taking you and the jacket up on this challenge because I'm pretty certain I can Risky Business the sheeeeeit out of that." An amusement that lights up his eyes rolling his head back into the shoulder to watch Vyv try very hard to both ignore the joke and ignore that mental concept to focus. Agent of Chaos he is.

Still, the suit... "Vyv, I dunno if I have it in me to not want to go anywhere with you. If it'd make you that happy? Sure. We'll go and...it'll be new. Yes. I'll go." It's really that simple for me. "But..." Okay not so simple. "Should come out to Portland with me for skate weekend.. I'll trade you."

"If I'm making a savoury soufflé I might still take the cheese," Vyv replies, one corner of his lips twitching upward just a little, and there's another small sip from his glass as he fails to ignore at least the mental concept, or possibly image. "I'm not sure your hand deserves you attempting to Risky Business anything before it finishes healing. I suspect my floors work nicely for sock-sliding, however." Whether this might be the sort of suspicion that's actually been tested at any time is between him and his furnishings. It might. It might not. "A floor length jacket is liable to cause you some trouble with it, however. You can do shirt and underpants for such things if you must. That's not bottomless, it's essentially shorts." Not that he's a big fan of shorts in most situations, granted. But apparently there's a loophole nonetheless. And probably some appeal to watching Bax dance.

"Good." That for the general agreement. The 'but' gets another arched brow and some consideration. "Do you skate the entire weekend? Which weekend is it?" This is, it should be noted, not a 'no'.

Grant smiles a smile that's not quite a grin but isn't...not either. His eyes glance past Vyv's shoulder to teh open space beyond and he jsut...grins planning something. "Yeah. Don't worry. I will manage something." Great or terrible who knows but it'll be epic and there may be sparklers involved.

Okay maybe not because something about singing the rugs. Some day though.

The question about skate weekend gets a shrug. "Eeeeh most are one day. Things like X-games and that if your'e good enough to get in are a few days, but you usually rep a team a lot of times. Tickets and gear ain't cheap. Most tho there's a day of it. Sooome day I'm hoping to hit up Cali again or go to Florida. There's one that's in Japan buuuut bigger names than mine get across the pond for that." He hrmms thoughtfully and back to Vyv. Pauses. An eyebrow goes up. "That ever happens you'll have to come with. I'll need a tour guide. but yeah there's a couple in nearby states. I been all the way to Cali. They are really good and pretty super chill out there. Seeing how people put things together in new ways and getting ideas is really bad ass." The corner of his mouth pulls up with a slight tilt of his head. "Kinda love that about my Tribe. There's cowboys and just a lot of people who get excited just to see a thing be possible."

"Well, now I'm worried," Vyv replies, in a tone that doesn't actually sound as though he is the slightest bit. Yet, anyway. This will likely change if sparklers do manage to make an appearance. Look, all his stuff is nice and most of it is flammable to one extent or another. And he saw that stove.

He pays attention to the answers his questions get, enough to notice that one didn't get one. Still, he waits until Bax has finished before asking again, "And this one is when?" It might be a good sign that he's pressing for the schedule. "If you end up going to one in Japan, yes, I'll go along. Possibly California, too. Do you know what else you ought to go down there for? There's a yearly chalk festival in Pasadena. I think it might be going on right now, actually. But you should enter it next year." He finishes off his glass, and leans down to set the empty on the floor beside the bottle for the time being. "Do you have a passport?" he inquires, presumably reminded by the mention of Japan. "Anyway. This Portland skate thing and its dates. No promises until I know the when."

Grant arches an eyebrow "Shit had you not need to work I'd say let's just go now. There's a chalk festival?!" do eyes get larger? Not unless you're a cat who wants whatever you are eating and not sharing. Hand wrapped but fingers seeing daylight curl and rub against the edge of his own jaw thoughtfully. "Naw, I told you I never really travel out of the state or really go anywhere. I can get one. My dad's got my birth certificate somewhere. I can ask him."

There's a certain sort of low key calm that sets in on the graffiti artist-skater-stove smelter. "You're right though, maybe I should. If we didn't miss it and you have time be kinda cool to go see if you want to do that?" Pulling his phone from pocket he thumbs through it and arches an eyebrow, "Uhhh like two and a half weeks. It's on the Saturday. Not like... This saturday but if we were on this next saturday it'd be like two weeks out. So my phone says."

"Mm. Yes. Step one, passport. It generally takes a handful of weeks, so better to have one before one discovers one needs it. Plus... you'll need it if you get around to your snack tour of Europe." Vyv dips his freed hand into his pocket for his own phone, flipping the cover open and flicking through things with the slight awkwardness of using one hand for actions he most often does with the other. Feels off, even with the phone resting on his leg instead of being held. But the other arm is occupied and he doesn't feel like reclaiming it just yet.

"Two weeks from Saturday..." It is, in fact, Friday right now, and the chef's brows lift a touch. "Mn. Fourth of July weekend, then. That... might be doable. I'll need to check on a couple things, but..." It gets tapped into his planner, all the same. A little more poking around, and he looks thoughtful. "And the festival is this weekend. Hm..." A fingertip taps twice against the edge of the phone. "Sunday's Father's Day, you know," he notes, in the midst of returning to poking at some things. "But if you're all right with being away for the majority of it..." For all that he values the present, spontaneity is not precisely his thing. But on the other hand, there is time to plan this. It isn't a complicated matter. Just more imminent than he'd usually prefer. There's a few seconds pause as he considers what actually needs to be arranged, and what he might need to adjust at the shop. "...mn. Yes. We could go. We could head down tonight, return late Sunday." He looks up from the phone, over to Bax again. "You almost certainly wouldn't be able to enter this year, mind; I believe the applications were taken back in March. But. If you want to see it..." That appears to be an offer.

Grant considers this, cracking a smile that slowly turns into a grin and one handed sign 'You remembered that?' People retaining information at all seems an anathema. When the dates start going around his hand rubs one eye socket and he goes back to his phone. "Oh... shit that is this Sunday..." There's a momentary look of confusion in recall and his head wobbles this way and that having an entire conversation with absolutely no one over it in his head. "Yeah lemme text my dad and see if he wants to do dinner and... shit, ya wanna meet em? " He blinks and his eyebrow goes up, but also giving him the out of, "If it's late I know you got work Monday so it's cool but if you wanted to do dinner, ya know, awesome. He's asked about you." Fact and not one that's got Bax worried as his eyes go back to his phone to kick the text off to him.

The offer of the spontaneous trip draws a grin, "Uhhh yes?!" that he's not hopped off he couch to pack now is it's own feat "Be easy as I schlepped my bag of stuff with me anyways. Lemme let Nate know I need him to cover and see if I can get tomorrow off before I just disappear on mah dudes." There's a grin there that's being contained. It's not for the world, it's for himself. The gesture to support his art and share that in a spontaneous rearrangement of carefully arranged things? That lands with him. It's making room for him in an itinerary lined with pinafores and swans with perfect necks made of pretzel spines.

That little upward smile-curl returns, along with another arch of a brow. This one, though, seems to say of course, the hint of amusement lingering. That wavers a touch at the mention of dinner, though there are multiple potential causes there. The thing that gets the immediate note is, "I'm not sure I can reasonably get us back by dinnertime, if we go. Not without things becoming stressful, unreasonably curtailed, or both. If you don't think he'd mind, the best bet for covering both might be aiming dinner for Monday. When I say we'd likely return late Sunday, I do mean rather late."

There's a breath of silence that doesn't seem quite a stop. "Do you think he'd want to meet me at a time like that? Father's day dinner seems a bit... family." As opposed to, you know, 'strangers who happen to be regularly fucking one's kid'. It is, however, also not a 'no'. He's been asked about? Vyv does a reasonable but not perfect job of masking the fact that he may not be entirely sure what to make of that.

"...at any rate. If you still do want to go, I'll make sure Mr. Tanaka has things under control. And do you have a swimsuit in there?" Bayside does have a pool, not to mention the beach just out there, so it's not as though it mightn't have been of use even here. But also not a foregone conclusion. He eyes Bax assessingly for a moment, then seems to abandon something he might have said, instead musing, "Though I suppose if it's needed we could pick one up easily enough."

Grant is still hung up on the fact that Vyv remembered his bucket list item of snack backpacking across Europe. Maybe. If that ever happens. Still this lands hard with him with just a charmed look. "Yeah got my suit cause it was nice out. Also packed something 'reasonable' to wear in case you wanted to do nice lunch tomorrow, soooo... lucky me." No he hadn't made mention of that and not all of his clothes are dreadful. Just buried. Usually. He winks and says humbly, "You're welcome." The weird thing is he means it. Sometimes it's about life's little surprises and concessions. "Glad I did now. Uhhhh you got a USB charger thing? I will want to recharge my hearing aids overnight."

Snackpacking! Someday, Vyv may dig into how important the 'hitchhiking and backpacking per se' portions are to the plan, but this is not that day. Or at least, this is not that hour. He gives a satisfied little nod to the assertion that the swimsuit is at hand, and a small, slightly widening smile to the mention of 'something reasonable', as well. "That may be useful," he says, which might be willing to let itself be paired into the 'thank you' position with that 'you're welcome'. "I've got a few USB chargers," of course he does, "but perhaps we ought to keep one around for that in particular..." Tch, toothbrush AND hearing-aid charger? Is that risking qualification as serious?

Either way, he turns his head to study Bax and the remnants of that charmed look for a moment, then leans in enough to steal a kiss, light and lingering. "All right. I'll get things arranged." Alas, this means reclaiming his arm for more ease of messing with the phone, but on the upside, it makes the process go a fair bit more swiftly than it otherwise would've. "Mn. I don't have things packed, I'll have to take a few to sort that out," he murmurs as he works. "But all in all, I think... we've got a plan."

Grant is actually slightly startled out of the small fugue state thinking about trail mix with chocolate and pecans and big back packs and what might be the Alps, and Vyv taking the time to remember what was mentioned in a very early off-handed conversation detail. Lips steal his and he is not going to argue his win there. When he tries to stand to pack, Bax's good hand pinches the fabric at the lower back of his shirt pulling Vyv back to a sit.

There is only that look that most people have when they are either waiting for an answer or follows the words 'well?'. Instead he signs Thank you. Leaning forward he murmurs a kiss to his forehead, "It's overnight. Don't overthink it." He does like the idea of knowing where he can plug his few things at. That little bit of joy might last across Oregon or until his coffee buzz wears off. "And yes. My dad actually likes meeting our people. Heee is an amazingly chill dude for a totally stressed out lawyer. You'll dig em. It'll be fine." No he didn't check. "... I'm a call em, you pack."

That tug back down means Grant gets a well? sort of look right back, though not an angry one. Just surprised and slightly impatient, though the sign and the little kiss dissolve the latter fairly effectively. "It's two nights," Vyv murmurs back, and there's that hint of a smile that sometimes hits his eyes more than his lips, "and I'll overthink if I damn well want to." A pause. "Currently aiming for precisely the right degree of think, however."

The last of the first round of Things To Poke At His Phone For complete, he rises again, running the fingers of one hand through the skater's recently redyed hair. No real roots showing there again yet. Good. "Remember we're unlikely to be back much before midnight Sunday, if at all, mm?" Might just keep him another night, at that point. "Unless you really want me to see how early I can arrange. We'd have to focus on travelling instead of seeing much of the second day." But until he finishes the arrangements, this is apparently still an option.

He leaves Bax to handle that part how he will, and disappears into the bedroom to pack. It actually doesn't take too terribly long before he emerges with a tidy suitcase in one hand and a charger cord in the other, the latter of which he offers over. "This one can be yours," he says, "I'll just set it aside when we return. But before we go," he glances out over the balcony, then down at the furniture before it, "I believe we have a couch to put back."