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yeah.

[ michael being abnormal was what lead to constance's death, so there are a couple of alarm bells ringing in his head when reggie says this whole live fast die young thing doesn't have a lot of traction outside the two of them, but. so what? even if most people don't agree with him, reggie does, and that means more to him than anything else. he thrives under conditions like these. ]

oh, that's cool. you're right, though. going to him would be a pretty bad idea.
i don't need therapy anymore, so. i won't make things weird and messy between us by trying to talk to him, either.
you don't really strike me as someone who needs it, anyway? therapy, i mean.
i feel like you could fix anything that was getting in your way. all by yourself.
'cause you're a badass, like i said.

but okay, uh. i still don't know where you live.
you wanna meet up somewhere, or can i come over this time?

well im not saying see him or DONT see him
like yeah maybe itd be a little weird but its his job
and my job, sort of
its not up to me who his patients are

[ Not that Reggie necessarily wants to be friends with people who are seeing his boss as patients, or just in therapy at all, but Michael wouldn't be the first one. Reggie's reassured as intended, though, especially when Michael goes on to say how much Reggie seems like he doesn't need therapy. Exactly what he's been saying all this time! ]

i am pretty badass
never needed therapy in my life and also never will
solving my own problems is exactly what i do

[ Or... creating them, making them worse... so on.

Speaking of which. Reggie bites the corner of his lip, debating on if he should give Michael his address, but then he decides to just go ahead; he texts it over. ]

ugh, no.
grief counselling was one thing when i needed it, but seriously, therapy's not for me.

[ that's all he says about that. the last thing he needs is to go through actual, genuine therapy again. it didn't end well for him last time, and the thought of putting himself back in a position where someone will give up on him as a lost cause is maybe the most repugnant thought he could have.

but hey, enough about that. reggie agrees he's a badass and that makes michael laugh, sending off a quick baddest ass i know followed by an even quicker uh, that wasn't a comment on how bad your ass is, your ass is the best, and then he takes reggie's address, immediately and hungrily committing it to memory. he tells reggie he'll be over soon and locks his phone, getting his shit ready and heading over.

it's in his head that he needs to make his first trip over to reggie's as painless and as minimally awkward as he can, so he's brought two big bottles of smirnoff ice he swiped from someone he tested his powers on and some weed that his kiiiind of unprofessional boss gave him in exchange for doing unpaid overtime. it's not for tonight, though they can break into it all if that's what reggie wants - it's just, you know. couple of presents. for a friend. given to them in the totally normal hope that they'll like him more if he just plies them up with the right shit.

he knocks on reggie's door with his foot, his hands too full carrying this shit to do it. he's holding it all out in front of him when reggie eventually answers. ]

Hi. For you.

right
well, glad to hear it
i deal w/ enough crazy ppl in my life as it is

[ And, as he's getting ready, he probably sends back a few quasi-flirty responses to Michael's comments about his ass ( "its true but dont think im gonna put out again just over a little flattery ;P" ) (though he would, and has, and likely will again). Getting ready is a pretty easy process; Reggie mostly just needs to shower and change, and then do his hair. That'll take the longest.

He's combing the gel in when Michael knocks. Reggie gets the door, dressed nicely but casually for their intended night out in a tight black t-shirt and similarly tight jeans, his black eye faded by now to a dark smudge around his left eye; still there, but not quite so vivid to keep suffering wearing sunglasses indoors. He stares at Michael as if he's being offered flowers, blankly and in mild surprise, but he accepts the smirnoff and puts it inside; accepts the weed and pockets it, for now. ]

Uh. Thanks? [ He runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the smirnoff. ] So d'you wanna like, come inside, or should we just--?

[ Michael isn't dressed half as well as Reggie, in some shitty plaid yellow number over a white tanktop and terrible mustard pants, but hey, clothes are clothes. Reggie doesn't look all that excited by his welcome back gifts, and Michael feels a brief flutter of panic in his chest as he wonders if he's done something wrong. He figured Reggie would love some free booze, partially because of how into vodka he was the other night and partially because Michael sucked at getting real drinks before and figured this might lead to a compliment on what a cool dude he's becoming, and his boss sold him a pretty strong sales pitch on why weed is better than any money he could've earned from overtime. But.

Whatever? It is what it is. If he's coming on too strong, he doesn't notice. He never does, not completely. He takes a deep breath, rubs his shoulder to ease out some of the tension and smiles at Reggie, big and wide. ]

I'll totally come inside. [ He stands on his toes to look over Reggie's shoulder, curious about the inside of his place and maybe just a little bit interested in creeping through his shit. Thankfully, he realizes that Reggie wasn't really extending an invitation so much as just being polite, so he drops his feet flat against the ground again, not really sure what to do next. Kind of hard to game someone into liking you when you don't know what they want. ]

Or - maybe we should go hang out? And... you can invite me back later tonight? If you want to?

[ Said - with - cautious optimism? ]

[ Reggie lingers in the doorway while he waits for Michael to answer, not necessarily opposed to the idea of pre-gaming a little here before they go out, but also trying to suss out Michael's intentions a bit more. He does like the gifts, but what are they really for? He's surprised by the fact Michael brought anything at all.

But maybe he shouldn't be. Michael is awkward, though strangely endearing, and somehow charming at times because of it. He says you can invite me back later tonight if you want to and Reggie raises his eyebrow, grinning at him a bit more openly. ]

Yeah. Maybe later you can come inside. We'll see.

[ That might be innuendo, or it might not be. Reggie steps outside and shuts the door behind him before Michael can peek in any more (not that there's much of interest to see from the front door), casually slapping Michael on the ass as he walks past towards his car. ]

Depends on how well you'll be able to keep up tonight.

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