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It had been a miserable day.
It had been a miserable day from the minute Jack woke up. For one, he actually woke up, and he hated sleeping, hated the moments when he didn’t know what was going on and the world felt like something bigger than him. Second, he’d been woken up by someone smashing his dishes and screaming. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought that someone was probably the woman he picked up the night before. She seemed upset, but she eventually stormed out, and if she thought Handsome Jack was going to chase after her…
...Well, she obviously didn’t know Jack.
The rest of the morning had been a frenzied haze of one emergency after another and no one able to string two thoughts together without his supervision. The afternoon had dragged out into the evening, the entire time spent on his phone trying to calm investors or revise budgets or get anyone, anyone to do anything without his expressly explaining every step.
And an intern had dumped coffee on him somewhere at the end of the day and that was when Jack realized he hadn’t eaten since the night before, and he was definitely going to kill the next person he saw if that didn’t get fixed. Instead of murdering the valet, he ended up listening to a very nervous hostess explain that his table would be ready very soon and that he could wait at the bar and have a complimentary drink.
The whiskey was good, but not good enough to fix the day he was having. He idly thought about how it would impact his dinner if he just went back and killed the hostess, while he watched the only other occupant of the bar.
He was good looking-- not as good looking as Jack, of course, but dark and lean, with sharp edges that Jack appreciated. He had the glossy look of someone dressed up for a reason; a date probably, Jack guessed. An absent date, judging from the frown on the man’s too pretty mouth.
“Who shit in your cereal?” Jack asked, finally, amused by the way the other man jumped. In a fit of generosity, he ordered a second round for himself and the man.
“What? Ah…” The other man looked at the bartender when she sat a new glass down, then he offered Jack a faint smile. “No one, it’s just been… the perfect ending to an already a bad day.”
That was gospel if Jack had ever heard it. “Amen,” Jack agreed, toasting the man with his new drink. “What’s your deal, cupcake? Come here often?”
The other man breathed out a small laugh. “No. This isn’t exactly my scene.” He looked around the restaurant. “It’s nice enough… but I like a little more...A little less…” He shrugged.
“You have a way with words,” Jack agreed. He tossed back his drink and set the glass down. “Yeah, okay, you convinced me. Are there burgers at this better place of yours?”
The other man stared at him. “I wasn’t--”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m hungry and I want to take a flamethrower to this place, but the closest one is locked in my R&D department, and they don’t serve dinner. So, let’s go.” Jack made an impatient gesture to the door. “There are burgers, right, or are you another disappointment in this crapshow of a day…?” He trailed off, leaving room for the man to introduce himself.
“Rhys,” the man supplied. He shrugged and finished his drink before turning to face Jack fully. “Yeah, I know a place.”
Jack drove, with a sinking suspicion as Rhys gave directions. When they finally stopped, he stared at the blinking neon lights and laughed, the desperate laugh of the truly fucked.
“What?” Rhys asked.
“It’s just… This is just perfect. Come on, you weren’t wrong about that burger.” Jack climbed out of the car and led the way in.
“Moxxi, I’m hoooome,” he yelled, standing in the entrance, the way he had every time he’d had to come to the dive to see the woman. It was worth it to see her head snap around and her eyes go narrow and calculating. For whatever it was worth, she still knew how to dress to please a crowd.
To annoy her, he set his hand on the small of Rhys’ back and bent his head to murmur in the man’s ear. “You brought me to my ex’s place, sweetheart. Good thing you’ve got a great ass. Now laugh; it’ll drive her nuts.”
He had to hand it to Rhys; he was game. Rhys laughed lowly, a warm and promising chuckle, then turned his head to Jack, leaning in slightly. “What are the chances of that?” he asked in an undertone, then turned a lazy smile on Moxxi. “So, you already know about the burgers?”
“They’re just what the doctor ordered. C’mon, let’s go put a bee in her bonnet.” Jack started for the bar and was all ready to deliver a truly epic greeting to Moxxi when Rhys came up behind him and grabbed his ass.
“Hey, Moxxi,” Rhys said. “Can we get two burgers and… whiskey? We need to... refuel.” His smile was one of the cat who not only had the canary, but an entire aviary.
Jack stared at Rhys a beat too long, then grinned and ran his hand up the other man’s back, giving Moxxi an eloquent look. “Someone has a hard time keeping up,” he told her, confidentially.
“Some of us require food at regular intervals,” Rhys protested to Jack, leaning in to him. Jack turned his hed slightly and inhaled, relishing the sharp, clean scent of the other man.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Rhys said to Moxxi. “The man is a machine.”
Moxxi’s eyes were assessing, but she smiled. “Two burgers and a bottle of whiskey, sugar, coming up,” she purred, and the men both watched her walk away.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jack said to Rhys. “But the sex wasn’t really that good. Most of her effort is in advertising.”
“Shame,” Rhys said. “Do you usually go for small, dark, and feminine?”
Jack’s smile was genuine, a slow, lopsided thing as he considered the other man. “I’m always willing to try something new and different.”
Two burgers and a bottle of whiskey later, Rhys stood in Jack’s office, looking around. “I don’t know,” he said, thoughtfully. “It’s a little… subtle.”
“You think?” Jack asked, looking up. He caught the gleam in Rhys’ eye and laughed, flopping back into his chair. He pressed a button on his desk and a small old man appeared in the door. He was wearing a trucker hat with a rooster and the word Cock emblazoned on it.
“Pedro, whiskey? Do we have any of that whiskey left?” Jack asked.
The old man, Pedro, sighed and disappeared, coming back with a bottle of whiskey. “Bosh’ta libium oso?” the man asked.
Jack took the bottle. “Perfect.”
Rhys watched the man disappear. “What language was that?” he asked.
“No idea, but he’s the best secretary I’ve ever had. Here,” Jack handed Rhys a glass of whiskey. “Have a taste of the good life.”
Rhys sipped, then sighed. “Being rich has its rewards,” he said. “I kinda hate you.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Jack said, leaning back on his desk to watch the other man explore his office. “It’s not all great, though.”
“Really?” Rhys glanced back at him, surprised.
“No, it’s awesome. Being poor sucked.” Jack grinned at Rhys, who stuck his tongue out in response.
“I’ll get here, someday,” Rhys said.
“You’re already here,” Jack pointed out. “Hang on, hang on, this is driving me crazy.” He pulled up a screen and typed at it, closing alerts and windows.
Rhys stood behind him, scanning the screen as Jack worked. “Hey,” he said, suddenly. “Pull that back up.”
Jack glanced over his shoulder at Rhys, then opened the screen again. “It’s just a marketing report. You would get more on the open market if you tried to scan my R&D docs.”
“No, that’s my boss,” Rhys said. “I worked on that report. Those aren’t the numbers we were using.”
“You work for me?” Jack asked, surprised and delighted. “You’re kidding?”
“For a few years now. We met once at a charity thing.” Rhys was still studying the report. He reached over Jack to type, accessing his own files and bringing up the original numbers. “These are the numbers I submitted. Someone inflated them.”
Jack watched, then swept everything to a priority review file. “A tight ass and you’re saving me money. I think you might be my favorite employee.”
“We all have to do our part,” Rhys said, and let out a yelp when Jack reached up and tumbled him down into his lap.
“Calm down,” Jack said, settling the other man and squinting at his eye. “I’m just checking out your tech.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that one before--” but his protest was cut off when Jack raised a hand and scanned his head; the blue light washed over Rhys and then Jack was studying a projection of the technical specs.
“You didn’t go with Hyperion tech?” Jack asked, scrolling. “Anshin does have better stuff, but I have a couple of things in the works that are definite upgrades. Hold out your arm, I want a look at that baby, too.”
Rhys blew a strand of hair out of his eyes and obligingly pulled up the technical details for his arm, saving Jack the hassle of scanning it. “The arm started out as Hyperion, but I’ve made some modifications.”
“I’ll say,” Jack said. “These are pretty good. You did them yourself?”
“For the most part,” Rhys said, warm from the compliment.
“What are you doing in marketing? You should be in R&D, helping me take Anshin’s market share,” Jack reached out and brought up his personal terminal again, typing with one hand. “Report to Jensen on Monday, she’ll get you sorted.”
Rhys stared at him. “Did you--”
“Just promote you? It happens,” Jack seemed bored by the entire thing and flicked all the screens closed, settling his hands on Rhys’ waist and leaning in. “So, buttercup, have you ever seen a unicorn made out of diamonds?”
Rhys had laughed, but in person, Butt Stallion was pretty impressive, if a little hard to look at. Rhys stroked her nose, looking at Jack. “What do you feed her?”
“I have no idea,” Jack answered. “Mostly, she takes care of herself. And unlike some people, she’s awful to ride.”
Rhys’ laugh was short. “That was bad.”
“It was still the best offer of your life,” Jack said. “Admit it.”
“Maybe,” Rhys said, turning to look around the apartment. “So, this is it? Instead of etchings, you invite people up to see your diamond unicorn?”
“Babe, I usually don’t have to ask,” Jack said. “But if you’re playing hard to get, I can scribble something on a napkin.”
“About time,” a voice said from the hallway. “We were about to start with-”
Jack’s reactions were quicker than Rhys’; he had his gun out and fired before Rhys had fully turned. The woman in the hallway was quicker than that, though, and Rhys instinctively ducked at the sound of the ricochet.
“What-” Jack said. “Athena?”
The woman, Athena, lowered her arm, her shield folding up as she did. “Who else?” she asked, looking mildly exasperated, but nowhere near as concerned as Rhys was about getting shot.
“You’re getting slow, old man.” A woman came up behind Athena and leaned over her shoulder, tilting her hat back to look Rhys up and down. “Who’s the piece of ass?”
“Hi,” Rhys said, because he’d been raised to be polite to well-armed, strange women. “I’m Rhys. You are?”
“Impatient. Stop looking like that, Jack. Tim let us in,” the second woman said, waving them to follow her. “Figured you would forget it was your turn to host, so we took the initiative.
“I thought we were on for next week,” Jack said. “I didn’t forget, last time. I was trying to deal with an attempted coup.”
Down the hall turned out to be a large, spacious living room full of people. Rhys looked around. “How big is this place?” he asked Jack, in an undertone.
“I’ll let you know when they finish mapping it,” Jack said. “That’s Athena, Nisha, Tim is the good looking one, Wilhelm is next to him. They’re--”
“Friends?” Rhys suggested, when Jack seemed at a loss.
“I was going to say wanted by authorities on several different planets, but sure, let’s go with friends,” Jack said, taking a seat. “This is Rhys. He apparently works for me.”
Nisha studied Rhys. “You play cards?”
Rhys shrugged and took a seat.
Several hours later, Rhys sat on a pile of clothing, draped in various pieces. His trophy was Jack’s shirt, draped like a cloak around his shoulders, but he was wearing Athena’s boots. He leaned forward to drag a stack of chips to his already impressive pile and shook his head.
“Where did you find this kid?” Nisha asked. (She still had hat and holsters, but not much more than that.)
“Where’d you learn to play cards?” Wilhelm asked.
“It’s how I paid for college,” Rhys said with a shrug. “It’s just math.”
Jack laughed and held up his glass to Tim, who was in charge of refills after having busted out early. “Maybe I should have switched you to acquisitions,” he said.
“Another couple of hands and it won’t matter, because you’ll be working for me,” Rhys said. “You are literally the worst liar I have ever met. You’re actually wearing a mask. Why can’t you bluff?”
“That’s all for me,” Nisha said, tossing her cards down. “I’m out of things I’m willing to bet. Athena, you still catching a ride back?”
Athena rose and nodded once to Rhys. “Good game,” she said.
Still clad only in hat, holster, and boots, Nisha led the way out.
“Do you want something to wear?” Rhys called.
“I’m good, boy toy. I’ll see you for the rematch.” She waved over her shoulder.
Wilhelm stood up, too, glancing at Tim. “That’s it for me, too. You coming?”
Tim looked at Jack, Rhys, then back to the bigger man. He offered a faint smile that seemed out of place on Jack’s face, then followed Wilheim out.
“They’re fun,” Rhys said, stretching. “I guess I should head out, too.”
Jack looked surprised. “Why?”
Rhys blinked, then glanced out the windows. “I have work in a few hours?” he asked. He wasn’t anxious to leave, but it was almost dawn.
Jack waved a hand. “I know the boss. C’mon, let’s go find breakfast.” He pushed away from the table and offered Rhys a hand.
“In this?” Rhys asked, indicating their attire, or in Jack’s case, almost total lack thereof.
Jack grinned. “They should be so lucky.”
Rhys glanced out the window again, then shrugged and threw his cards on the table. “Why not?” he asked, taking Jack’s hand and letting himself be pulled into a brand new day.