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[credere]

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[anonyreyev]

"I couldn't tell. He's hard to read. He had a lot of questions about non-monogamy, so probably just that."

But he isn't one for total reassurance, prefers a more cautious take.

"I also hit on Klaus quite a bit before I realized who and what and how and you- but not so much I can't delicately walk that back into platonic friendship."

[credere]

"Oh."

It's hard not to think they're a better fit for each other, but then again, he's not sure he wants Klaus mixed up in any imminent basket casery, either.

"I think he flirts at least a little with everyone he meets."

[anonyreyev]

"I really saw myself in him."

He agrees, and slides him an eggplant shaved into practically slivers.

Zucchini next.

"Although I think I have a better sense of style."

[credere]

“You have,” Credence says, although he knows he’s on thin ice making such value judgements. “He helped me choose the things I found for you at port, though.”

[anonyreyev]

"Then there's hope for him yet."

He says, and dips back to The Question.

"Haven't talked to Juno yet. Dove around a corner to avoid him while he was walking by, this morning."

[credere]

“....If you don’t want to work on service, you don’t have to.”

Or maybe he’s chosen to work here so he won’t have the option of avoiding him.

[anonyreyev]

"I'll do the back end work."

He promises, onto the tomatoes next.

"Dishes while you serve, replacements for the sides as they go."

[credere]

"I would have hated that when I first started working here," he says, almost to himself. "But that sounds good. And I could hit him again if he stays too long."

He doesn't mean it. Probably.

[anonyreyev]

"Hit him? Again?"

Says Peter, who if he was told this, forgot it in all the emotional turbulence.

[credere]

Honestly, given the amount of gin he watched Peter drink, Credence would be amazed if he remembered anything from that evening's conversation. So he reminds him, patiently:

"We met in the greenhouse. He introduced himself and I punched him in the stomach."

[anonyreyev]

"How late can dinner be?"

He asks, and grabs him- he's going to have tomato on his ass now, and a full dinner shift to do ahead of them still.

[credere]

"Peter - it can't be late," Credence says, conscientiously, and squirms out of range. "....But, you asked me to stay later."

[anonyreyev]

"It could be, though."

He proposes, chuckling, but subsiding and going back to tomatoes.

[credere]

It's nice, he has to reflect, that he's not working alone any more - not only not alone, but with someone he started out on the right note with. He's friendly enough with Fives now, but he's always aware that they had to renegotiate the assumptions they made about each other.

Time wears on, and he works on cleaning up as the shift wears down, their own meals plated up and waiting.

[anonyreyev]

He's there leaning against the counter when Credence comes back in, brimming with 'let's blow off our responsibilities and leave the dishes for breakfast' energy.

"I'm starving."

[credere]

Credence is a meticulous but magically efficient cleaner.

"Me too."

He hands Peter his plate - still lightly steaming and fresh, magic again - and then takes up his own, careful to lock the door behind them when they leave.

(Given what he's observed about Peter, he thinks it's just as well that all the knives get counted in and out.)

[anonyreyev]

It is very good that Credence has no illusions about the person he's spending time with, honestly.

"Where do you want to eat?"

[credere]

"We could take these back to my cabin," he suggests, quietly. As if that might not be the kind of thing Peter had in mind.

[anonyreyev]

"That sounds like a very good plan. Even if I'm a little afraid of your cats."

As any person would be.

[credere]

Although it just makes Credence blink at him.

"Why?"

The worst thing his cats do is try to attack his toes under the bedsheets.

[anonyreyev]

"They have knives on their hands."

He has some misunderstandings about cats.

[credere]

"...They're just claws. And they won't scratch you unless they think you're trying to hurt them."

Heading out into the hallway, now.

"If you leave them alone, they'll leave you alone too."

[anonyreyev]

"I don't think they speak English, so I can't explain that I mean them well."

He points out, coming along behind them.

"Can you translate?"

[credere]

"Yes," Credence says, because he's fairly sure that there's no point in prolonging the fact that he can't, in fact, talk to animals.

He uses a heavy, rather old-school key to open his cabin door, and smiles faintly at the two terrible creatures who come to meow at his ankles.

[anonyreyev]

"Hello."

Says Peter, to both cats, quite seriously.

"Thank you for having me in your home. I'm making sure he eats enough- yes, I think so too."

Now it's possible he's transitioning into being playful.