Page 47 of Walking Wounded

8

“You’re in a good mood,” Luke observes when they’re buckled into the Jeep and headed back to the apartment.

Hal’s smile flashes relaxed and happy in the blue of the dash lights. “Yeah. It was a good day. Low stress. Good weather. The ideal work day, you know?”

“No,” Luke says, fighting his own smile. “I never have an ideal work day.”

“Hey.” Hal takes a hand off the wheel and wags a finger at him. “Sitting in front of a roaring fire and talking sounds pretty good to me.”

“Talking toWill Maddox, though.”

Hal snorts. “True.”

“So it was a good day.” Luke doesn’t want that smile to go away just yet; it looks so good on Hal, happiness.

“Good day,” Hal echoes.

Luke tries – really he does – not to think about what Will said. Aboutyour boy. He leans over and twists the volume knob on the radio, so music fills the car. Hal sings along, off-key as hell.

In the building elevator, Hal says, “So, hey, I was thinking you could come out to the gym with me. Meet the guys.”

A hard shiver steals across Luke’s skin, part fear and part preemptive dislike of whoever these “guys” are. Gyms and guys who spend lots of time in gyms have never been his friends…unless you count Hal. Mr. Universe over here.

“You know I don’t work out the same way you do.”

Hal makes an unimpressed sound. “Do you hear me saying you need to? Just come with. Do a little something. I don’t care. And then we’ll grab breakfast and go to Matt’s after.”

Luke glances over at him, his face still tan and healthy-looking in the elevator overheads. “It’s important to you,” he guesses, confused.

“Yeah.” And that’s all Hal says.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

“Good.” Hal looks pleased as the elevator dings and they step into the hall.

When they’re inside the apartment – door locked safely, key put away, warm lights filling the small space and somehow making it seem larger – Luke makes an attempt not to watch Hail hang up his jacket, strip off his suit coat, and unknot his tie. He fails.

Hal says something about changing clothes and Luke goes to the couch, throws himself down with a tired breath and fights the bourbon fumes in his brain. He needs to do some actual work before he gives up on the evening and crashes. His fingers fumble, stiff and slow, as he gets out his tablet and his voice recorder. Thinking about what Will said –your boy– he pulls out his earbuds too and plugs them in.

“You know what’s really good,” Hal says as he emerges from the bedroom, dressed in threadbare sweats and a clinging white undershirt.OhJesus, Luke thinks to himself, and forces his eyes away, off into a bland corner of the room that won’t stimulate every nerve-ending in his body. “The newMad Max. Have you watched it?”

Since the only thing more expensive than an evening at the movies these days is a Blu-Ray copy of a movie, Luke hasn’t. “No.”

Hal sits down next to him, much too close for a couch this wide. “You wanna watch it?”

The alcohol plays tricks on Luke’s eyes; makes him think there’s a hopeful spark burning in Hal’s gaze.

“Actually, I should do some work stuff,” he laments.

“Oh. Oh. Okay. That’s…” Hal scuffs his socked feet across the rug. “Yeah, of course.”

“Lucky you, you don’t have homework like me.” Luke elbows him in the ribs as he hooks his recorder to his tablet and starts the download.

“Yeah,” Hal says, quiet. “Lucky me.”

~*~

Hal takes a water bottle and a paperback off the shelf into his room with a soft, “G’night.”

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