Raz seated on the curb with his elbows resting on his knees. He is holding a cigarette in his mouth with the end burning, his eyes turned downward. He wears a tank top and his hair is pushed back away from his face.

𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩.

Raz didn’t laugh.

His eyes stayed on Joel's for a long moment, searching for any sign he may be joking. When no sign appeared, Raz's jaw shifted once.

"… Okay," he said slowly. "Then say it like you mean it."

-- Fair enough," he added. "I can respect wanting to be tested… Just don’t mistake quiet for fragile," he added. "Some of us are just… selective about when we move."

-- face, expression thoughtful rather than guarded now. "I don’t mind being challenged. I just don’t like being shoved before I’ve got my footing." He paused. "There’s a difference."

Raz straightened slightly, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the set that still clung to him. "But yeah. --

Raz listened, his fingers idly worrying at the edge of a coaster on the bar. He exhaled through his nose, not quite a laugh. "Challenging people is fine," he said, tone measured. "As long as you're ready for them to push back. Or walk away."

He glanced sideways at Joel's glass, then back to his --

Raz frowned slightly, brow creasing as he searched his memory. He huffed a quiet breath through his nose.

"Vaguely." His eyes flicked over Joel’s face, more intent now. "Why?"

-- quite. More of an acknowledgment. "Doesn’t mean I won’t ever step out. Just means I do it on purpose."

-- finally took a sip, then glanced back at Joel. "And for the record," he went on, "I don’t mind waves. I grew up around enough noise to learn how to keep my footing." A small shrug. "I just like knowing where the shore is."

He tipped his bottle slightly in Joel’s direction—not a toast, not --

-- rolled the bottle lightly between his fingers, the glass clicking once against the wood before he steadied it. "I just think some people mistake 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 for helping," he added, not sharply. "There's a difference between bracing someone and dragging them somewhere they didn't agree to go." Raz --

Raz listened without interrupting, his beer untouched for a few seconds longer than necessary. He exhaled through his nose, a quiet huff that was almost a laugh.

"Yeah," he said after a moment, eyes drifting to the scuffed bar top instead of Joel. "Standing together helps. I get that."

He --

Raz didn’t joke this time. He glanced at Joel, reading the weight in his tone, then shifted on the barstool to face him more fully.

He nodded once. "Okay," he said quietly. "I’m listening."

-- bottle to his lips, taking a small sip. The tension in his jaw seemed to ease, just a little. After a moment, he bumped his shoulder lightly against Joel’s. “You okay?”

Raz suddenly felt colder when Joel pulled his arm away. He didn’t chase the contact, though. He only reached for his drink as well.

“‘Here’ is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence,” he muttered, side-eyeing Joel. Then, he added more quietly, “Good. One’s enough.”

He lifted his beer --

A beat of silence.

"Just so you know, I'm not wearing that."

He will.

"I can see that... 𝘞𝘩𝘺?"

-- apron, I’m flipping a table."

-- where the coffee tastes like regret and the cook looks like he’s legally banned from smiling?" He paused for a moment. "… Yeah. Fries and a milkshake sound good."

Then, after a second, because he couldn’t quite let sincerity sit without balancing it: "But if I see your ex walk in wearing an --

Raz stiffened for half a second when the arm went around his shoulders, then he let himself settle into it.

"Our favorite," he repeated, like he was pretending to be annoyed about the phrasing instead of secretly pocketing it. He glanced at Joel out of the corner of his eye. "You mean the one --

"Uh... what?"

Someone wearing a black hoodie, viewed from the back, where the text reads "not friendly do not touch"

Is getting this for @loudandsorry.bsky.social .

-- studying Joel now with the same quiet attention Joel had been giving him. "So no," he finished. "Not frightening. Just not something I rush toward."

-- "Doesn’t mean it has to make sense to me."

Raz leaned back against the bar, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. "I don’t need chaos to enjoy life," he added. "I need to know where my feet are. Doesn’t make your way wrong. Just… different."

He tipped his head slightly, --

-- in that. Others just feel like they’re about to drop something important and never find it again."

His gaze flicked to Joel again. He looked curious, but still cautious. "You ride motorcycles. You like being swallowed by sound and people. That makes sense for you." He shrugged lightly. --

-- he echoed. "No." He shook his head once. "That’s not the word."

He took a small drink, then set the bottle down carefully. "It’s just… loud," he said. "Not the noise. The 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 of it. All at once. Crowds, speed, new things stacked on top of each other." He paused. "Some people feel alive --

Raz didn’t answer right away.

He watched the condensation slide down his bottle, thumb tracing the label like it needed his attention more than Joel did. In the background, there was another band setting up their equipment on stage.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady. "Frightening?" --

-- me for that, by the way.”

-- half-finished drink in his own hand. “… Yeah. Okay,” he agreed with a small nod. “But I’m picking the next place we go after this. Somewhere without emotional landmines and surprise guest stars.”His fingers tapped once against the bar before he added, a little more quietly, “And you don’t owe --

Raz huffed a soft breath through his nose—not quite a laugh, but close. The tension in him was starting to ease, his shoulders and jaw no longer so tight.

“Trying to get me drunk so I stop starting bar fights in your honor?” he muttered teasingly. He glanced sideways at Joel, then at the --

-- every time someone talks about you. You’re allowed to just… be. At least with me."

He turned his eyes forward again after he said it, jaw tightening a little like he revealed more than he'd planned to.

Raz noticed it: that tiny smile from Joel that looked like it slipped out without permission. His expression softened in a way he didn't fully mean to let happen.

"Hey," he said, quieter now. He bumped his shoulder lightly against Joel's. "You don't have to look like you're bracing for impact --