Following behind Ethan he can't help but be somewhat amused at the man's odd physique, but it seemed to suit him. That's a high complement, Mick didn't usually look at men like that, his bisexuality was mostly towards laziness and more of an appreciation of women. But no, he defiantly was looking. And liking. Stop it.

And what the fuck could really go wrong? It was all just coincidence right? Ethan was just a casual, nice guy who killed people for a living that he just happened to bump into.

"So you're not from 'ere then?" he asked curiously as he managed to catch up to Ethan's stride. From the way he described it, it seemed like he wasn't from here at all. "I'm from Swansea m'self. 'Aven't really been 'ome in nearly fifteen years. This place though, I 'aven't sen anything like it. And I travel. A lot. Can't really see why anyone would want to live 'ere, really."

"Nah. I'm not even American." He admits it with a wry smile. "I grew up in Germany. I guess I live here now, though. I'm not a legal citizen, though, per say. Hope that doesn't bother you." Like it would. Ethan knows he's being checked out, and he relishes that attention. Hey, who can blame him? He's enjoying it a bit too much, chiefly because he's smitten with a bit of a lustful crush on the other man.
"Mom was Vietnamese. Gave me a nice mix, good skin tone, interesting…height." That's one way to put it. At least he can find it in himself to joke about his stature.
He leads the way through winding, uneven streets and crumbling buildings until he stops before a cheap apartment complex. It..isn't impressive, at all. But looking at how he's dressed, would that really be expected?
"Third floor. End of the hall." He states it proudly and glides inside, virtually boundi g the stairs two at a time until they reach the correct floor. From there, too, he unlocks and opens the faded red door.
The interior isn't spartan, but it's poor. He doesn't seem to mind.

"Wouldn't know with the accent. I'm jealous. The Welsh is too thick, I can't imitate anything more than an al'ight cockney and a spot on scouse, I'm amazed you're able to hold it. And Vietnamese? Interesting. Probably gets a lot of negativity, eh? I'm a quarter Irish, so I saw my own bit of it back when I was livin' in Cardiff. All a bunch of bollocks really."

Good thing he's established that. Growing up with tight racism in the family seemed to make Mick almost colorblind. No one deserved racism. As for Ethan's height, well, height differences did sometimes make all the difference.

He doesn't mind the sparseness, frankly he likes it. A lot of people in their profession, specifically ones Mick's dealt with were so gung ho about looking like they had millions of dollars with their big dogs and giant houses. Nah, he liked this. This was good. Felt safe.

"Where should I put my gear?" Good question. Ethan brought up a bed. No way he was bringing his rifle in there with him.

"Yeah. I'm used to it, though. Pretty much just rolls off my back." Bullshit. It still hurts him every time, but like all others in his position he's become damn good at saying otherwise. Truly, it's impressive.

"Living room's fine, by the couch? If you need to, the coffee table, or there's the coat closet over there. Pretty much empty, just some boxes." It's probably a good idea to not look into what would be within those boxes, though, for the sake of wanting to spend the night. At least it's nothing morbid or disgusting. Just…unsettling to most, even those in this profession.

"Dinner. Right. There's a park literally half a block away. Grills and tables. Unless you'd rather stay in?" He offers both, able to switch it up in a moment's notice. In truth, he's surprised where they've ended up and doesn't want to blow it.

"Ah, I mean, I don't really care," Mick swallowed, leaving his things by the couch, trying to keep it neat and not just leave his bits everywhere. He's a good house guest, which is actually surprising considering he kills people. What a guy.

"I mean, 'm not picky. Just hungry," that's…a general description of him. Hungry, depressed. Borderline sociopathic in his apathy, maybe. Wow. "I think it depends on what you were thinkin'. Babs, right? I mean unless you've got a grill 'ere on the roof." Of course he'd bring up a roof. He belonged on the roofs.

He wasn't good at these things, the poor boy. Then again, he's also talking to a man he probably fucked up a few years ago. His head's jumbled enough as it is. "I dunno, whatever you think is best, mate." Really, it all ended to food. He didn't exactly care.

"Actually, funny you mention that. There's one I could take up there, if you wanted." He offers it with a little grin. "I've just got this itching for bell peppers and grilled onions, and when that hits nothing else is going to satisfy it." He figures that option might be liked, so he waits to see if it is, gathering ingredients regardless. Unless he's abruptly pulled away from the food and pushed against a wall or something, he keeps his back turned.

Hey, anything could happen

"I wouldn't mind that. I guess all the movin' about 'as me tired, y'know? S'got a fire excape, right?"

God, he sounded jittery. He was focusing too much. Thinking too much. He needed a fucking distraction. And well, wasn't like they couldn't eat after, right? Fuck it, either now or never. Plus, Ethan seemed into him, right? He could always be told to back off.

It's a quick motion with his hand that he gripped Ethan's shoulder, pulling to get the other man to turn around, and if he did, Mick neatly planted his lips on his, gently pushing in a little tongue, mostly to see his reaction. And mostly because the personal distraction was working. Now he could freak out about being rejected. It was a bit non consensual, really. All he needed was Ethan's reaction on wither it was wanted or not.

Ethan turns when his shoulder is gripped, and his reaction is surprised but melts quickly to warmth. The kiss is returned, although he's a bit slow to take to it, and all doubt is washed away the instant he shows himself willing and more than able to take part. A hand snakes out to grip near Mick's elbow, almost as if he's afraid the man will pull away. The tongue is appreciated. Well, this isn't dinner. He'll take what he can get, though.

This is better than dinner.

His breath finally exhales, something he didn't realize he was holding. His pulse picks up ever so faintly. The kiss started out as deeper than most would, and he isn't going to reverse that trend. There's a breathless moment of stillness between them for a few seconds, but no words are said. Instead, his gaze is just…searching, softly.

When he pulls apart form Ethan he's a bit flustered, licking his lips and more or less somewhat embarrassed by it. Why, he isn't quite sure.

"I ah…I just…," Just what? I just probably shot you a couple of years ago but if I distract you maybe you'll never find out because I actually really like you and honestly the guilt I have over it and not knowing if it was actually you is too much to handle so yeah sorry about that. "I'm sorry I just…ah…"

God just shut up. "…Wanted to see somethin'." He doesn't pull away though. He wasn't to know what Ethan's thinking. Brown eyes scan his face, looking for something, anything. "Try somethin'."

Ethan's face is currently a look of awestruck wonder, but it's a good thing. He doesn't ask Mick to not do so again, and he doesn't ask for the other to back off. No, that's the look of someone who's actually interested. His words are hushed and somewhat breathy when he says them, also not exactly given a lot of thought. Funny, though. It sure seems like they were.

See something? Try something? Yeah, he definitely did those. Ethan's hand doesn't leave Mick's arm, and it's clear he doesn't really want to let go, either.

"Try a little more." The reply is just shy of husky. He rises up faintly onto the balls of his feet, a hand moving to abruptly thread fingers through Mick's hair. He tilts the man's head down a bit closer to him as he rises to meet for a second kiss, the hand on the other's arm only gripping a little bit tighter.

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He returns the second kiss, hands moving to the sides of Ethan's face to deepen it, getting what he can out of it. He's still somewhat flustered but he's figuring out exactly what he wants. He bends down a bit, letting Ethan rest back on his feet. The height difference is a nice bonus, then again a majority of people he's been with have been shorter than him.

What was he doing? He didn't know anymore. He didn't care. Wasn't his problem to worry about anymore. Letting himself ignore something that he knows isn't true and just can't be true go, he realizes this could be a thing.

"Are you ah," he snorts when he breaks again, lips just ghosting over Ethan's as he struggled a bit to breathe. "Are you seein' anyone?"

"No." The statement is quiet but truthful. He's not, freshly moved to this city and without attachment at all. His gaze is searching, his lower lip softly bitten between his teeth in a nervous and excited habit of his. "Are you?" He doesn't know what he's hoping for, when it comes to an answer. He has no clue WHAT to expect, honestly. He hopes that's a no, though. He really, really does. He craves this man. He wants to know why, wants to learn why, wants to understand what's driven him to this point so quickly.

He waits for his answer with baited breath, face shifting and nose nuzzled softly against that of the other.

"Wouldn've asked if I was, eh?" the sarcasm is playful and Mick swallows, somewhat emotional over this little fling, and very much sure that he doesn't want to continue calling it just that. "S'all a bit sudden but I mean, obviously we work well together and ah, just…y'know?"

Does he know? Fuck, does Mick even know what he's trying to say. "Guess I could use some down time, y'know. Just like, there's somethin' and I wouldn't mind tryin' it out, if you're up for it?"

Oh God. Already asking the man out. His nervousness is evident but the pretty accent helps him mask it a little. Ethan will never know. Mick think it's coincidence, might notice Mick's skill as being familiar, but there's no way he'll know and no way he'll fuck this up.

"I mean, you understand what 'm askin'?"

"Yeah." Ethan replies softly, a little grin on his lips. "You want a portable boyfriend who can also be useful on the job. I can do that." He means it, too, and that's as much of a yes as Mick's going to get. "I'll go wherever. Even sleep in your car, if that's what it comes to. I need a little adventure. And if it comes on the side if I'm with you?…" There's always a little upwards influx of intonation on his sentences when he's being humorous, and this is one of those times. "I'm in."

He doesn't suspect a thing. The man he's locked in a loose embrace with punched a hole through his chest and changed his life forever, led to turmoil and heartache and horror. But yet here he is, clinging to him like some high school virgin on prom night.

"I'm…good. I'm glad. Really. Should warn you though, it's been a very long time for me. 'Aven't really been in a relationship since I was still livin' in Wales. I'm a bit rusty, but ah, I like this."

Well…now what?

"We should eat though, yeah?" Mick has a one track mind. Probably broke the mood too with how casually he says it. Then again, he's starving. At least he's gotten this out of the way. And if Ethan really wanted to steal his heart, he'd have to be able to at least cook something. "I mean, probably best to keep discussion over dinner, yeah? Was the original reason I came here."

Ethan snorts in laughter at the quick subject change to food. He can make it happen. "Right. Roof good, or…?" He wants to make sure, although he thinks that will be the choice. He quickly bags up all of the needed ingredients, wrapped and sealed safely, in one of those reusable grocery tote bags and slings it into one hand. From there, he shoves in a grill brush, tongs, a spatula, and paper plates, as well as napkins. Bases covered.

"The grill and charcoal and fuel and shit's up by the door to the roof. Maybe you could help me get it up?" He gives a little smile, hoping all is well so far.

Fuck.

He has a boyfriend.

This is new.

"Yeah."

The boyfriend thing hasn't sunk in yet, Mick's focused on something else. At least now he'd get something to eat. Food man, it's the best thing.

The problem was stairs, not the best for someone with smoker's lung but he manages the three flights with only a bit of coughing. He'd have to quit soon, the habit was destroying his body and soon he'd be coughing up lung. Wonderful. And coughing wasn't incredibly attractive.

At least when he finally made it up it didn't take long for him to catch his breath back. Moving the grill equipment outside he reveled in how good it felt to be outside on a roof again. "Christ, even for a shite hole it looks pretty at night."

"Yeah, it does." Ethan grins, glad Mick can see that. Most can't, no natter where he takes them here. "Hey, just so you knos, I ain't cooking every meal." He's teasing, but he will sometimes if Mick asks or wants him too. He sets up and scrapes dowm the grill before lighting up and getting started. Soon, heavenly smells fill the air. He grills the vegetables in a strange fashion using metal pouches made of aluminum, the ingredients inside. The mean chunks are done the old fashioned way.
By the time he assembles the first one for Mick, it's absolutely perfect. He works on a second immediately, making it available to the other man whenever he might want it. He makes himsef a veggie one and takea a bite, satisfied.
"Mm, there's BBQ sauce if you want it." The meat's so perfect that would honestly ruin it. Damn. This one's a keeper.

"S'fine. I 'ad to cook a lot growin' up anyway. You ever 'ave pasties?" Good thing Ethan's said he's not vegetarian. He knows it was a joke, but if Mick can set himself doing something and having some specific job to look forward to, he's not complaining.

"Cheers," he accepted the kabab, neglecting sauce more because he just didn't eat with it. He's picky, Ethan's going to learn how to deal with that. Meat was good to him no matter how it was done, but he's especially enjoying Ethan's cooking. How long had it been since someone cooked for him again? That gt Ethan bonus points. "Thank you, really. It's been a while. This is nice."

"Never even heard of them." He admits it and leaves the grill to simmer while he settles down beside Mick at the cheap, assembled picnic table up top for them to use. The building pitched in to get it, and it's well loved. When thanked, he grins and gives a nod, taking a bite himself.

"Of course. My pleasure. I'm not the greatest, unfortunately, but I hope I'm decent enough at it to keep you happy." He's enjoying the peppers, and that much is clear. The sweet, tangy flavor is perfection, well and truly.

"S'alright, I'll make some at some point 'm sure. My mum would 'ave me help 'er make 'em for my dad when he was workin', sorta like. Not exclusively Welsh but it's somethin' I can make easily."

When was the last time he cooked anyway? Years, maybe, since he actually stepped foot in a kitchen. Weird to think about, really. Less the idea of cooking and more the fact that…that he'd just yapped about cooking for this man. Christ.

"It'll work. I appreciate it. Really," he means that. One was enough for him, though, for someone who rarely got to eat at all, it was never much. He was quiet, staring out at the sea of lights and thinking, just tapping his fingers on the wood of the table. He's clearly muddled over something.

If it's been years since Mick has actually cooked, things could get…interesting. It's probably a good thing that there's a microwave available, because from the sound of it neither of them are virtuoso at conventional meals. Ethan is proud of his ability to improvise, however, and that serves his lifestyle well, just like so many other things about his choices tend to do.

Ethan can tell Mick's wrapped up in thought, but his wondering is probably related to the abrupt nature of the agreement they just reached. Hey, it's just a trial period. That's how Ethan sees it, anyway. But maybe that scares Mick somewhat. Maybe he's not used to being tied down at all, or maybe he's just skittish. Nothing else seems to make sense, so he doesn't question it too much. Some people are just nervous about this kind of thing. And, hey, he WAS the one that instigated that, back in the apartment. That has to be a sign that he's not pushing any limits.

"Soooo….what's next on your agenda, after Detroit?"

"I dunno. I take work when it's given to me, I don't really go out of my way to do things," he coughed a moment before squinting as he thought. What exactly were his plans? "In a month I'm 'eaded back to Wales to see my sister. Anything before that will just be what comes. Was plannin' on 'eading back to Virginia. But I guess I 'ave a bit of incentive to stay, eh?"

Rubbing his face he sighed, he's been exhausting himself again. More or less because he's still internally beating himself up. That's healthy. "What about you?"

Kind of a good thing to know. If they're gonna work on a partnership on top of this dating thing, knowing what the other is up to makes planning things easier. And Mick's just curious on how this man works.

"I, ah…go where the boss tells me." He gives an open-handed shrug, arms eventually folding across his chest and grabbing at the opposite elbow or arm in a display of faint nervous tension. "I mean, I do my own shit, too, but I've…I've got a big obligation I have to keep. They're quiet, I'm fine. But the instant I get a message I sure as hell had better respond and get to it right away." Called off with sudden notice? It makes sense. But whoever he works for must be a real hardass.

"I, ah…well, I don't know how long that situation is going to last. I hope not many more years." YEARS? What did he get involved in?

Mick snorted. "Sounds like my bunch. My boss'll ring me right if I don't answer 'er as quick as I can, y'know? Much simpler when we were just profilers, made what we do so much easier. Now it's…You never get used to it. Being 'omeless mostly, constantly moving. Dealin' with shitty people, puttin' down people and not knowin' if you're doing a damn lick of good, s'all bullshit, really."

Someone's bitter. But he has his reasons. "You ever think about splittin'? Just…telling them to fuck off and move on to somethin' better?"

Maybe Mick's got personal problems with what he does. No one can blame him.

"Yeah. All the time." He says it somewhat quietly, stance closing off again as he does so. "I would if I could, but…that isn't going to happen." If he tried, what would happen? He'd end up in a cell again, and even if it were comfortable and even if it were more like a room than anything else. A prison, and one from which he can't escape. Maybe one day they'll have pity on him, but for now he's trapped.

"I'm not a team player, usually. So…I'm not used to having a leash. I'm not liking it. At all." Metaphorically and literally, if one were to get technical.

"Must be rough, eh? M'sorry," mostly because it's my fault, he added silently. "But I understand how you feel. Shitty job plus shitty boss doesn't exactly make for the best work environment. Maybe if we keep this partnership thing goin', somethin'll come out of it."

He sounds incredibly confident in that. Ethan's got skill, the two of them could honestly do anything. But really, talk about work did nothing but make him bitter. Maybe best to change the subject, he noticed it's not one of Ethan's favorite things to talk about. "You ah, you gonna need 'elp getting those in again?

"Nah, less to carry this time. We ate some of it, remember?" He does find it funny, though, that Mick's in such a rush to get downstairs. He's enjoying the weather, but he can take a good queue and react well to it. Posture loose and open again, he stands and stretches with a groan as his spine pops rather obnoxiously. Funny, though, he seems just as tense as he was before. It's like it did nothing for him. "Mmf. Ok." He gathers up the trash and cleans off the table before he yanks the grill with him like it weighed absolutely nothing. Just how in the hell is it that easy for him? It might as well be made of solid, empty, lightweight plastic for how he lifts it with one hand. That's impressive.

"Sorry, I just ah, I get nervous when I'm outside for too long and it's not for a job," he gets nervous about everything. But it's true, when faced with open air and not having his rifle around, he seemed to get riled up rather quickly. Just how he was.

He watches Ethan effortlessly lift and blinked curiously, he could tell Ethan was strong but he didn't think he was strong enough to act like it was no big deal with Mick's back about gave out. Weird. He'd probably find out about how strong he really was sooner or later.

He follows Ethan back down, more or less sluggish due to how tired he is. At least he has a place to stay, it would have been too late to drive back anyway. He's grateful for Ethan's hospitality. It's a rare thing, especially with people in their business. He's just glad his car is out of the question. he was looking forward to get to know Ethan a little more anyway despite the fact that his head was telling him how absolutely stupid he was. Brushing past Ethan he made for the door, knowing full well he could get it open himself, but that old Welsh gentleman in him couldn't help it. Just how he was.

Ethan shrugs the bag of coals into the crook of his other arm and waits on Mick to open the door to go back inside. He can't do it with both hands full, after all, so once the other has done it he worms his way down despite the obnoxious load he's carrying and sets everything back where he got it. The grill brush and spatula are hanging from their little leather straps around his wrists- it makes it handy, not having to worry about dropping them. He slides them off and actually holds them like a normal person once all else is down, planning to wash them and put them away like he's done with everything else. He jogs easily down the stairs, not really looking back to see how well Mick is following.

God, he loves stairs.

Once at the apartment, he opens the door and slips inside, dropping the utensils in the sink. He stretches and rolls his shoulders back. That hit the spot- the food, the weather, the view, the company…well, the company is still with him. He turns to glance at Mick curiously now, half tempted to move in for another kiss.

Wait. No. No, is the mood even right for that? He doesn't know. That probably shows on his face, too.

The second he's back in the apartment it's like he's someone else, someone much more confident and less jumpy. Someone who's making himself look more casual than he is. Which for him is an achievement.

"I ah…heh."

Mick wanted to thank him of course. A little bit of thinking later he figured exactly how he'd do that. Really, what other way was there to thank him? He can see it on Ethan's face, and honestly he's more than happy to oblige. He takes a moment, looking down at Ethan before making his move, tipping Ethan's chin up before kissing him again. The mood was indeed right, Mick was happy to show that with a bit of tongue. Tongue made everything better,

"Thanks for dinner," he smirked he when pulled off, waiting to see what Ethan's reaction would be.

"You're a good kisser." He states it plainly, lips twitching into a little grin. "Like, a really good kisser." The complement is warm and honest, too. "Do you wanna, maybe…?" Make out like teenagers hiding in a corner at prom? Like we're in the back of a club? Like we're alone at night in a car? Fucking kiss me you tall beanpole.

Ethan gestures lamely to the couch, although he really wants to point to the bed. Sex isn't what's on his mind, though. It's just a place they might end up, cuddling or not. Hell, he hopes so. What's the point in not sharing a bed?

"I mean. If you WANT to."

"If I want to, eh?"

He really, really hopes Ethan's talking about just making out. In his good days there were jokes in his office about how he seemed to be the most sexually agile of the group, but really his inexperience and bad times had made him sour to the idea. Occasional stress release or emotional overloads he'd let get buried away in sex, but now in his old age, he didn't care for it anymore. Didn't have the energy.

When Ethan gestures to the couch he blinks, licking his lips for a moment before deciding his move. "Thought you 'ad a bed? Can't exactly fit on that thing, 'm a bit too tall and let's face it, two of us tryin' to squeeze in on it? It's just be uncomfortable."

Good point. "Show me 'round. Then we'll start back up."

"Bed. Yeah." He answers lamely and forces himself to come back to reality again, leaving the way. It isn't a very big place, and despite the obvious small figures of the cash he can call his own he has the necessities. The bedroom is plain, but the bed is large enough and the covers are freshly made. The faintest whiff of vanilla in the air stems from a candle that isn't currently burning. A second pair of running shoes rest by the closet door. A well-loved backpack does, too, although empty.
"Sharing isn't a problem, right?"

"S'alright. It's nice," he looked around, getting a feel for the small area before nodding in approval. "Probably gonna 'ave to get my own place at some point, eh? Maybe somethin' bigger."

When Ethan brings up sharing, he just laughs, shrugging off his jacket to get himself more comfortable. "Sharing ain't a problem. I ah, nah, it'll work. It'll work for you yeah?"

He's fumbling. Maybe he's getting nervous now.

"Yeah." Ethan leaves his shoes by the other pair and shrugs off his shirt. It isn't really a sexual move or an attempt to be that way as much as it is his tendency to do so to be comfortable. He's a strange man, and there's no denying it. He folds the shirt neatly and tosses it on the dresser by the tableside and glances to Mick, almost worried to start. However, it's obvious he probably should. He strides closer confidently and reaches up to place both hands on the sides of Mick's face in a gentle sort of cupping motion, drawing up to the balls of his feet again to sneak a kiss.

He's glad that Ethan makes the first move, lowing himself down so that Ethan doesn't have to bother so much with trying to reach him. It was dang cute, really.

Brown eyes were in slivers as Mick watched him, shuffling a bit closer until he was nearly pressed tight against Ethan, kissing him back as his fingers traveled to curl around his shoulders. Not really a sexual move, but Mick was eating up the warmth and closeness. He only breaks for a moment to bend down and nibble gently on the side of his neck.

"You wanna just do this all night, hmm? Cause I could do this all night." Christ.

"I'm perfectly fine with that." Ethan's voice is a breathy whisper and little more. He's happy to be drawn in close, his hands moving around the other's back and remaining there, hands rising up to rest just below Mick's shoulders, flat against the other. He doesn't get closeness like this, not with anyone. This is different. This is…this is great. "Yeah. I'm taking you up on that." An itch scratched for both, apparently, considering they've quite literally just fallen into the arms of the other and happily remained there after only a handful of hours together.

"To be completely honest with you, when we met, I was scared you were straight." He admits it as little more than a jesting whisper in Mick's ear. "Glad that was wrong."

Mick snorted. "Nah, got over my whole 'I must be straight and only straight' thing a couple years ago. Though to be 'onestly with you, s'not all the time someone catches my attention."

That's true. He's been solo for a very long time. Besides casual sex dates and the occasional girl who just wanted a "British" boyfriend, he preferred being on his own. Maybe it was the guilt, but he liked Ethan, liked him enough to want to stick around despite what he'd done. He wanted something out of this. "Wanna move where it's more comfortable? Legs're killin' me. Tendinitis, y'know." Liar.

Ethan doesn't buy it, but he just snorts in good humor and edges Mick over towards the bed before he unwraps himself from the other man and just goes ahead and climbs on, laying down and just waiting with a smug little grin on his face. What's he going to say, anyway? Really, what is there to say? For the moment, he's happy to fall flat on his back and remain there, although there are some butterflies jumping up in his throat and stomach that strike him as rather funny.

Mick follows, more or less excited to see what's happening tonight.

"Do you 'ave a preferred side or…" either way, he's sure there's gonna be cuddling. Sex wasn't an option, thankfully, and tomorrow morning he'd have to show how much he really appreciated it. Breakfast was still his forte, and it'd be a good chance to see if he could still even cook.

Either way, he stripped down, peeling off his layers until he was just down to boxers and a shirt, neatly leaving his things in an isolated corner. He wanted to be comfortable, of course, and depending on how Ethan was still feeling, he'd probably have to wait a small while longer. "You alright love?"

Ethan kicks his pants free and stays dowm in his boxers happily, answering Mick with a wry little grin on his face. "No side preference. I'm fine." Lies. He's…denting the bed. A lot more than he should be, too. Maybe it's just old? Whatever the reasom, he forces himself to turn on his side and waits with a little grin on his face, not sure if Mick wants to get under the sheets right away or not.
The scar on his chest is white and angry, but it certainly isn't the only one. He's got another set of those odd lines down his legs, too. Surgical, nothing but. The're faded, though, and his ink is so much more interesting to look at.

"Good."

The sheets were ideal, and Mick just happily slid under, just happy to be somewhere warm for a few moments, trying his best to ignore the scars. The tattoos on the other hand are interesting, he'd have to ask about them later. Maybe show Ethan his own sometime.

"I 'ave to admit," he coughed once he managed to get himself comfortable, ignoring how he almost seemed to roll into the dent Ethan made. How much did this guy actually weigh? "'M glad you 'aven't brought up sex already. If I ah, if I can admit another thing, 'm not exactly the most…sexually advanced er whatever. S'been a long time, on ah, on datin' for me. I might be a little boring, and sexually wise…I mean, I just don't care for it. I'd rather just…cuddle, y'know?"

That's a big admission for him. Ethan's reaction could either make or break his night. But if they're trying this out, he should be honest.

Ethan gets under happily, the sheets clean and fresh from the day prior. While he listens to Mick's explanation, he shifts and closes the gap between them in silent agreement and understanding. "Sex isn' the biggest and most important thing to me. I can enjoy it a lot, yeah, but I'd rather do other things. Cuddle can be one of them." He respects the boundary and doesn't seem to mind at all- huh. That's pretty unusual, especially from a guy who looks lile him. "Of course, if you ever actually wanted to…you know…you could ask, somehow. I'm experienced. I can play either role, and we could go slow. But only ever if you want to." Wow. That's…actually very thoughtful.
For now, Ethan moves to press against Mick as of sheltering himself, a hrin rising to his lips for a reason he just can't seem to explain.

"That's good, actually. Not a lot of people are open about that. I appreciate it."

The gives him the confidence he needs really. Mick takes the initiative, being sure Ethan's comfortable first before adjusting himself, staying mindful of those injuries he showed him earlier and lightly threw himself over, bringing Ethan closer against him, repeating in his head over and over that it's just for warmth. Really, there were other reasons, but the closeness seemed to make him happy at least. "You alright? This good for you?"

Never hurts to be sure.

"This is great." Ethan reassures Mick, glad to draw close and stay there. "I like it a lot. I'm not fragile. If something hurts, I'll be sure to take care of it myself. You'll know. Probably some noise, maybe a kick or two." At least he's honest. For now, he stays facing mick and just leaves a few small kisses along the man's collarbone and neck. A hand moves slowly and threads through Mick's hair almost as an afterthought, tilting the man's head so he can steal a kiss.

Wow. This is so sickly cute the writer is just…wow.

"Good. Would hate to think all seventy two kilos of me could break you, eh? Wouldn't that be embarrassing? But jus' a warnin', I roll. Restless leg 'n' all that."

He returns the kiss, humming against Ethan's lips and finding so much joy in just being there. Christ, when last the last time he was happy like this? Wont he have something to tell Jenna when he sees her next.

"Just ah, just a smidge of curiosity, do you mind me stayin' a few days?" If not, he'd just head back to Virginia. But really, he's digging this. If Ethan lets him, he'd stay forever. Fuck work, his bosses could wait to have their next big domestic security threat taken care of.

"Stay a few days. Stay a year. See if I care." Ethan teases, clearly looking for a little more attention from Mick, at least briefly. He steals another kiss before settling down for the night, content to fall asleep that way unless pushed for more. He turns on his opposite side now, ending up curled with Mick behind him. Spooning on the first date? Well, it only makes sense, for height's sake. He'll be sore in the morning from not laying flat, but it's so worth it.

He's out like a light until the sun, or Mick, wakes him.