it takes a bear to hide a squirrel

[Michael Miller]

Michael was in trouble again. Because he ran his mouth. Again. It was not his fault if some guys took questions over their sexuality as questions over their virility. Michael probably shouldn’t have touched him too, especially in front of his friends. He was the one who called him a fag. Michael started by correcting him, saying the proper term was fop and then worked on describing a fop, comparing his style to that of the other guy. But it definitely was the suggestion that must be making gay jokes to hide the truth about himself that did it. Now, Michael had been certain he lost him. The mall was crowded enough to achieve that. And he was hoping losing sight of him would make the guy realise how useless it was to go after a little fag - or fop. For once, he even thanked his short stature. But he caught sight of the guy’s horrible sense of style. Luckily, he had yet seen him even if he appeared to still be on the lookout. Still, Michael didn't want to keep running, soopted for plan B.

He looked around for the proper cover. “Hi there,” he said, flashing his most angelic smile to the man. Okay, so this bear was the opposite of who he’d hand out with normally, that should do the trick. Plus he was taller (not hard) and bigger (also not hard) than he was, so Michael slipped in next to him in such a way the man would hide him. “Could I bother you a second and have you look this way and tell me if a guy with a hideous orange shirt and mopey black hair is coming this way?” he said, pointing behind the guy. And while he’d do that, Michael would make sure to stay there, partially covered by the guy. He was fairly confident that, even if he were to look in this direction, he wouldn’t pay attention to the bulky man and so glance past him along the way. “I know it sounds suspicious, but I swear I did nothing,” he assured him. Perhaps looking at him would give more weight to this statement, but Michael had already lost interest in staring at him.

TAG: Bo Jones

[Bo Jones]

Normally Bo would avoid the mall if he could avoid it. But with holidays looming up and just the general need for clothing and other bits and pieces, the need outweighed the desire. he'd been mostly hanging, trying to do some mental window shopping and all. That was, until some scrawny guy showed up and started using the brawny chef as a shield.

This, Bo had gotten somewhat used to. he'd been the shield when he went to Bellefonte, as most people didn't want to mess with the guy who was already big before his enhancing power kicked in. So it was only a little surprising to find that activity happening outside of the school proper.

Not initially questioning, Bo looked about for someone in a hideous orange shirt (he himself was in a dusky green). "Looks like," he said, noticing the guy looking his way, or, more likely, the way of the guy ducked behind him. "What you do to get his attention then?" Bo asked over his shoulder, while also waving and smiling in the direction of said guy. He certainly didn't want to start a fight, but he could tell the other guy looked more nervous. Question was whether Bo should be stepping in or not...

[Michael Miller]

Now that he was protected, Michael paid a lot less attention to the one on his trail. He actually took an interest in the shop he stopped by, looking through the window at what he could only assume the guy been looking at before he shifted his attention to something else. Michael didn't really want for him to start looking for the orange shirt and the guy wearing it. It would be suspicious. But he was hoping being close enough of him and focusing on something else would only make it look like the guy was waiting for someone, or him to be done, and so suggest they were together.

He shrugged at the man’s question. “Nothing, really. I merely pointed that having a minimum of fashion sense is not a good indication of one’s sexual preferences. And I might have proven my point with his style, I don’t really remember. You can’t ask me to remember everything I say,” he said in a dismissive way. Knowing he more or less confessed calling a guy gay in retaliation to be considered as one, and not wanting such behaviour to play against him here, he turned around to smile once again at the man. “That was said with all the kindness in the world, of course. Plus, I took offense to being called a fag. Why are you waving, are you stupid!?” he said, ducking behind him in the hope Mr. Orange Shirt had not seen him next to that grinning idiot. He sighed out of annoyance. The bigger they got, the stupider they were, really.

[Bo Jones]

Bo stared at the guy for an extended period of time, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. Something involving style, which Bo knew absolutely nothing about (technically next to nothing; he'd dated a girl who was somewhat interested before he came out and one guy after who had enough fashion sense to tell Bo to stop wearing so many t-shirts).

"Can ask if-- "Bo was beginning, only to stop as the other guy mentioned being called a fag. Bo sighed with that, shaking his head slightly. Montana in general? Not great for the homo. Kalispell in specific? A paradise, really. Having Bellefonte around helped greatly in that. "Wavin' to throw him off," Bo finally said when the guy gave him a chance. He nodded. "Sorry 'bout my friend here," Bo called. "He thought you weren't an asshole."

The smile continued and Bo nodded this time. The guy took a few steps closer, sizing Bo up, clearly trying to determine whether that was a good idea. "If you got some martial arts or some kinda hidden skill, now may be a good time to try it," Bo, meanwhile, swelled slightly, flexing under his shirt. He figured he could get up enough steam to lay the guy out in one punch, and honestly? Bo'd sleep pretty soundly about it after the fact.

[Michael Miller]

Michael paid no attention to Bo as he gave his little explanation but even if he had, he wouldn’t have surprised to find out the guy didn’t get what he meant. He too had little fashion sense, even if Michael would take the green of his shirt any time before wearing the orange of the other guy. Still, he got that his justification put him under a bad light and pinned him as that bitchy fashion gay boy. Which he was, but he didn’t have to call him that. Or a fag. Had he just been called gay... no, Michael would have mocked the other guy still, but he also wouldn’t have been as offended. People tossed it as though it was an insult. Kalispell may consider itself tolerant and accepting, Bellefonte even more, but even in heaven could you find a few rotten fruits.

He had no idea what the big fool would have in mind, but he was seriously starting to regret coming to him. He should have pretended he was straight instead of going with his instinct and picking a guy. Waving at the guy, what was he thinking? Michael remained behind, analyzing the situation. If he tried to run too fast, the other one would get him in no time. Perhaps Michael should have bothered a bit more when his father was all about sports and physical activity instead of lazing off like a cat. To his surprise, the bulky one just called the ugly one an asshole. He stared at him with about as much surprise as Mr Orange Shirt. It wasn’t the friend thing that stuck out, he didn’t even pay attention to it, he was mostly surprised he intended to back him up to this extent. The guy was smiling however so Michael wasn’t sure if this was out of confidence that he would win no matter what or because he was just crazy. You never knew around here.

Michael was then given the opportunity to see more about him than his unshaved look; he flexed his muscles and, up close as he was, Michael had a perfect view. He mentally patted himself on the back for that one. “You know what, I forgive you. It’s your life, if you want to believe you could be happy with a girl, knock yourself out. But I’d find something else than sexual orientation to mock someone if I were you. Makes you sound like you’re compensating for something,” he said to him, the last line whispered as he gave him a nod. He knew he was pissing him off some more and that he was dying at the opportunity to get back at him the minute he’d be away from his friend. Sadly for him, Michael understood the shelter he provided and had no intention of leaving his side for now. The guy preferred to drop it. For now, at least. Obviously, he didn’t expect to end up in a fight he may actually get hurt in the process of. Michael still knew he better watch out when he’d get out, but he figured the other one would tire long before that time.

“Wow, you’re actually better than I expected, I should carry you along with me everywhere I go,” he let out, getting out from behind him only after the other one was away enough for him not to see the orange atrocity. He grinned at the one who remained. “How about a drink to celebrate?” Now, he said a drink, he never said anything about paying.

[Bo Jones]

Wow, did the little guy have a mouth on him. That little burst had Bo raising his brows and looking to the unfashionable bully. "Really, it just ain't polite," offered Bo in his best southern drawl, adding a shrug and another smile. Sure, he'd just called the guy and asshole, but after that tongue lashing, he almost felt sorry for him. That and Bo was still pretty confident in his ability to lay out the bully if it came down to it.

Guy dropped it. Bo waved a hand as he retreated. "Should try lookin' up some info online, be real helpful,' he drawled, before sticking his hand into the pocket of his jeans. He looked over his shoulder at the little guy again. "Pretty sure I'd be carryin' you," Bo said, eying him again. "You gotta be careful: chihuahua's barkin' at big dogs often end up little snacks,' he shrugged.

"Don't see no harm in a drink if you want to get one. Don't see as I did much that really deserves it. Guy was pretty well askin' for it, really," Bo shrugged again. He would've stood up for just about anyone, so long as he didn't have to start a fight or get too much in trouble. Again, he almost had to smile at his own mental gymnastics there: ready to lay a guy out while still not wanting to fight. Apparently there were just things that would rile Bo up.

[Michael Miller]

Michael was Michael, and he was empowered by the fact he had Bulky Man to back him up, making Bulky Man’s argument invalid in his eyes. Of course, even had he been someone he knew the name of and somewhat respected, he would have still brushed away his objection. He knew that kind of attitude was what got him in this situation in the first place but Michael wasn’t one to learn from this mistake. Even if he’d try to behave, he knew that, at some point, someone would say or do something stupid and make him go back at it all over again. Besides, he enjoyed it, so it was not like he had any intention to stop. Anyway, he wasn’t even sure that impolite comment was for him or the other guy.

And then he had to go and call him a Chihuahua and the other one a big dog. Way to spoil his victory. “Pfft. He’s no big dog. He’s a small dog who thinks he’d big because he gangs up on other small dogs,” he retorted, eyeing towards where the guy left. He said nothing about the Chihuahua thing though. He knew he was small for a guy. And slender, which only made him appear even smaller somehow. He also said nothing about the man carrying him. No one put him on a leash unless he wanted to. Damn, now he too was making up for dog metaphors!

Michael didn’t bother to ask himself if that guy was busy when he offered a drink. He played along, he couldn’t be all that occupied. Plus, he didn’t quite like being told no. Luckily, he had not. “Great,” he let out with another grin. “Not that it really matters, but what’s your name? Or are we to keep calling ourselves after animals, ‘cause I have a mind to make you a bear.”

[Bo Jones]

Bo chuckled at the protests. "you ain't never seen a big dog back down from a little one before? Gotta get out more," though he had to smile. He still didn't think this guy was all that big in person, but he definitely had the personality to make up for it. There was something to it that did charm Bo, if a little despite himself.

There was also that assumption that Bo would go right along for the drink. It was mostly right and all, so Bo found himself nodding and going along with it for the most part. "Glad to hear it," he drawled honestly as the guy chirped out a great. The next bit nearly had Bo smacking himself, but he did suppose that it wasn't as if they'd had a lot of time to exchange pleasantries.

"Ain't the first time someone's called me a bear," he admitted. "Pretty sure I get what you're sayin' there, anyways. But the name's Bo, an' I still am glad to be of assistance," with that, Bo stuck his hand out in offering for the other guy, figuring that a shake should formalize their greetings.

[Michael Miller]

“I can defend myself just fine, thank you,” Michael retorted, a bit of annoyance in his tone this time. Okay, he got it, there was something in the way he looked that just made him appear like a small helpless creature and with his mouth he just made himself the punching ball of choice. “I may not have your muscles but I’ve got other ways,” he assured, still refusing to look at the guy. He offended him with this, he didn’t deserve a look from him until this matter was over. One might argue that if he could manage, then why did he hide behind Bo? Michael knew he could have let the other punch him, then he’d just have to grab him and through that touch, the other one would end up with the bruises. But that would imply bruises and pain first, and Michael preferred to go without.

The drink was a nice distraction to have Michael forgive Bo for the dog jokes and look at him again. Maybe he shouldn’t have though. He did look like a bear. Or some lumberjack. He could just hear his friend Georgia ask him what he is doing around a guy like that and if he was tamed enough to be loose around people. For the tamed part, Michael could say that he was. The accent, the words, the hand... who still extended a hand outside of a job interview? Maybe it was Michael who had no manner but he stood there, baffled by the guy’s attitude. And the fact that his bear was called Bo. He was just asking for it, really.

It did take a moment, but Michael ended up shaking hands with him. “I kind of want to stick with Bear. Michael,” he said. If he was that nice and polite, Michael figured he might get some more out of Bear. For now, the more was a drink. He circled around Bo to get a better view of the mall. “There’s got to be a cafe over there, unless you just want to head to the food court. I don’t suppose you’re into those detox tea shit.” He looked at Bo. Probably not. It was a good thing because those matcha-something tasted like chalk to him.

[Bo Jones]

Bo eyed the guy for a little bit after he insisted that he could have protected himself. The evidence kinda didn't prove the little guy's point and all. "I'm sure you woulda figured somethin' out," Bo drawled, though his smile betrayed him a little bit there. he could understand not wanting to bow before someone larger or whatnot. "Anyone can get muscles," Bo pointed out, "so ain't no need to get too excited about 'em," though Bo's came from a keeping in shape and eating properly, which he had some experience with, given his profession and all.

At least the little guy took the hand when offered. Bo made sure to grip firmly without trying to show strength or anything: just the good, hearty shake that the guy deserved. "Like I said, ain't nothin' I ain't been called before," the country boy said, grinning and nodding. "Nice ta meet you, Mike." With that, Bo dropped the hand and looked around, trying to remember what was where around here.

"Ain't too bad if they do somethin' right with it," he said. "Prefer a good old fashioned iced tea m'self, maybe with a touch o' honey or a few squeezes of fresh lemon," Bo paused, considering. "I know there's one of those chain places jus' outside the mall, if you like that sorta thing. There's a coupla juice places an' all in the food court, an' I think there's a coupla family joints," he pointed in general directions before shrugging and looking. "So kinda depends on what kinda drink you were thinkin' of buyin', really."

[Michael Miller]

Michael knew he didn’t give Bo any reason to believe he could indeed defend himself. Michael rarely gave that idea to anyone really, preferring to rely on bigger men to do the fighting for him, when he could get some. Still, the amusement in the guy’s tone... It looked as though he would need time before the image of the Chihuahua would leave his mind while thinking of him. “Some of us as something better than muscles,” Michael simply replied. As for the getting excited about them... Michael always preferred his lovers to have some of those muscles if he never saw a point in building them on himself. But that was a whole other matter.

The handshake still felt weird. It was so overrated. Why can’t they just appreciate a nod? He didn’t seem to take offense in Michael calling him Bear, something he’d have to remind should they ever meet again. Not that he thought it was a possibility. But one never knows. The smile he kept giving him though. Michael couldn’t quite read through it. It never occurred to him there was nothing to read in it at all. He was much too used to smiles hiding something. Like his angelic one, to get away with whatever he had done or was accused of doing.

Bo was more into iced tea. Luckily, that meant they could go pretty much anywhere, if he didn’t mind buying one in a bottle with tons of sugar in it. But he claimed to prefer honey or lemon. That was awfully fancy, fancier than he had expected out of him. That demanded a bit more thought, despite him pointing out about every place in the area serving drinks. “Buying? Who said anything about buying? I just said you could get a drink.” With that correction made Michael made a few steps around Bo before turning around and looking at him. “I don’t mind going outside if your tea is better there but perhaps you had shopping to go back to? If so, I hope it wasn’t for you that you were looking at this shop,” he said, his thumb pointing at the shop window he had stopped at before Michael came and messed up with his plan for the day.

[Bo Jones]

The exchanged shake seemed to go over okay. Bo got the impression that the little guy didn't care much for it, so Bo made certain not to linger on it overmuch. No reason to stretch something if it was going to bother. Did make Bo wonder a bit, since what kind of person got too upset after something like a handshake?

He had to laugh at the drink confusion. "Sorry, musta just read into it," he offered. Though now he had to wonder if he should be taking the guy up on it period. Micheal did seem like he'd be entertaining enough company, and Bo had already more or less agreed. "Don't have to be tea; was jus' statin' my preference on the stuff. An' I was mostly jus' looking," he gestured at the shops. "What with the holidays comin' up, it's a good idea to get a lay of the land. Not really one to put it off."

Bo added another shrug before gesturing. "I'd say we try somethin' away from the mall, an' there's a chance..." he dug out his phone, checking something, "yeah, I think one of the food trucks in town might be doin' their shift outside. Got some custom drinks. C'mon, I'll buy you one, since you're gonna be cheap," BO stashed the phone and winked, before heading out into the lot, already knowing where the trucks would be. By now, he'd all but talked himself into wanting a drink.

[Michael Miller]

Yes, it was pretty easy to get Michael wrong about the drink. Since Bo was the one who helped Michael, you’d think he would be the one paying the tall guy a drink. He wouldn’t say he was a skinflint but other might call him a miser. As long as he didn’t care about them, Michael also didn’t care correcting him. But he could argue it was hard to spend a lot of money when you didn’t have a lot to begin with. This was such a nightmare for his fashionista side.

If Michael was interested in the place outside of the mall, it was not really because they made great iced teas. He just knew he would have to leave the mall eventually and, should the guys still be out waiting for him, he preferred to keep his bodyguard around. If they were to see him leave with Bo, they wouldn’t be as interested in going after him. He really should keep his mouth in check. Next time.

Bo assured it was not something he wanted to buy. Oh yeah, there was a thing like the holidays coming along. Michael should probably start doing some shopping for that himself. Not that he had a large list of people. He could just go out with Georgia and he didn’t intend to go back home so there really weren’t a lot of people on the list except himself. “Ah yes, I forgot about that,” he let out, more for himself than Bo. “Good thing you don’t consider this for you. It isn’t that great. The one in the back looks better. More expensive too no doubt,” he told him, pointing at the left corner you could see from the window. It was not his fault if the best looking things often were the most expensive also. Or that he had expensive tastes. What was a bother about it was the lack of funds previously mentioned.

Bo earlier made it sound like they could stay inside, but Michael didn’t want that. He wanted out. So when he mentioned the food truck, even if Michael was only mildly interested, he jumped on it. “Food truck’s perfect,” he assured, cutting the guy in his comment. Until he heard cheap. “Hey, I ain’t cheap,” he argued, totally ignoring the wink when that normally would have put him on flirt mode straight away. Bo was on the move so he followed, even if he was still a bit offended by the cheap comment. But he wanted his bodyguard so he had to keep him company.

[Bo Jones]

Bo considered the store he'd been by, before adding a shrug. There really wasn't anything else to add there: he'd just been looking and exploring and what have you. It wasn't as if he were stopping and determining to buy anything there for the time being. Hell, by now, he'd already started moving and heading for the food truck.

"Should be pretty dang good," Bo offered, again waving for Micheal to catch up. "They'd be runnin' a restaurant, 'cept that they kinda like the whole mobile thing an' all. Kinda bit off in the head if you ask me, but they make dang good drinks an' whatnot." Bo paused for a moment at the door, holding it open to let Micheal head out first, Bo following close enough behind. The country chef's guess had been accurate: there were actually a few trucks sitting in the parking lot.

"An' if you ain't cheap, then how come you weren't offerin' to buy a drink for someone that helped you out,' Bo said, grinning slightly, figuring that teasing Micheal was worth it, and more than a little fun. The guy kept squirming and so forth.

[Michael Miller]

Michael wouldn’t have minded to stay a little longer for shopping, or at least window shopping, but the situation was such that it was safer for him to go out now. He just hoped the gay lover was not a student of Bellefonte, otherwise Michael might end up paying at some point. He knew he was spiteful enough to hold a grudge for long and even if he was aware a lot of people weren’t like him, he found it hard not to give them his character traits.

Except maybe for Bo. There was about nothing in the man he could relate with. Their physique, fashion style, overall attitude, nothing was similar. Even their love for food truck proved it. “In other words, a drink truck,” Michael let out with clear disbelief. He certainly found it hard to think one could have drinks so good it would beat whatever one you could get inside the mall. Not to add that food truck meant freezing your ass outside. Sure, some had good food, but Michael tended to pick those only when he was really hungry and didn’t want to bother looking for a restaurant. Or that he was in a hurry. As long as he was around the bulky man, he wasn’t exactly in any hurry.

It did come to his mind that he might have to try and find some way after that drink to keep him around. Without sounding like he wanted a bodyguard, of course. The best was still to flirt and hope to get something out of it. He flirted with worse. “Fine, if that’s a drink you want. But I don’t really see how paying, how much is it five bucks, would prove I’m not cheap in your eyes?” he replied with a shrug. He could afford this much, although he had the feeling he would need to go see his family for the holidays if he wanted a better amount of money. Or find a job. He preferred the job. “I’m not quite sure you did a lot to deserve that drink though, you just stood there. But that must be why you’re using your charms on me, no?” He grinned back at Bo, a hint of teasing amusement in it as well. “Five bucks, is that all you think you’re worth?”