Chapter Text
When Aesop Carl woke up, he didn’t know where he was. He knew that his head was killing him and that the rest of his body wasn’t in much better shape, but that was about it. Carefully, he sat up on the small bed and peered around the small, thread-bare bedroom, which didn’t give him any clues. Most of his belongings were missing; his usual jacket included, which left him in a blue button-up and pinstripe slacks. The clanging of pipes in the old building and car motors running outside were the only sounds he could pick up on. The crack in the window was reassuring, at least.
I’m not a hostage, then. He stood with a small grunt while ensuring that his expression was as neutral as possible, despite his discomfort. As soon as he made it to the sole door in the room, it creaked open slowly.
Wide, amber eyes regarded him as the young man lingered just beyond the threshold. The two stared at each other, both seemingly caught off-guard, before the blond stranger smiled.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. I was starting to get worried,” he chuckled nervously. Aesop stood his ground and cast him a quizzical look while sizing him up, just in case. The other man was maybe a head shorter than him with a lean frame and proper posture. His clothes looked worn but cared for and he seemed built for speed, rather than any hand-to-hand encounters; Aesop quickly decided that he wasn’t much of a threat.
“Where am I?” He questioned levelly. The stranger took a few steps back to let him see further into the room beyond; a typical living area, just as thread-bare as the bedroom.
“My apartment; we’re on Knoll Street.”
“Then...How did I get here?” Pink colored his host's cheeks as he ducked his head.
“I found you in the alley last night. One of my neighbors is a doctor, so I had her patch you up, since your injuries didn’t seem too bad. This isn’t...the best neighborhood, so I didn’t want to put you in a bad position by calling an ambulance.”
At least the kid has some common sense in his head.
“Well, I appreciate your discretion, Mr...?” The blond stepped forward with a warm smile and extended his hand.
“Victor Grantz, sir. And, what do you go by?” He accepted the hand with his own and gave a firm shake.
“Eric Winston.” There was no reason for him to know anything about him; they’d never see each other again.
“I hope you’re feeling alright, Mr. Winston. Can I offer you a meal? I’m afraid I don’t have much to choose from, but a stomach full of porridge might do you good.” What was with this sunny disposition? Aesop didn’t trust it- However, he was just curious enough and still unsure of his footing, just yet, so he figured that accepting would allow him to fully regain his bearings.
“I would appreciate that, thank you, Mr. Grantz.” He trailed behind his host and took the seat offered, careful to lower himself into the chair gracefully as pain continued to stab at him.
“Oh, please, call me Victor. Now then, about that porridge…” Light tapping across the floor caught his attention as Victor began to rummage through the cabinets in the kitchen. He spotted the small, yellow dog trotting towards the blond, short tail wagging up a storm. A quiet laugh slipped from Victor as he turned his attention away from his cooking to peer down at his companion.
“Wick, you already had breakfast!” He turned to Aesop with a raised brow. “Do you mind dogs, Mr. Winston?”
“Not at all.” Victor’s smile widened as he peered back down at his companion.
“Go now, be polite and keep Mr. Winston company.” A bark accompanied by the sound of nails tapping against the floor brought Wick in front of him. He reached down to offer his hand for the dog to inspect; after a good minute of sniffing, he received several fervent licks along his fingers for his trouble.
“She loves meeting new people. This is a treat for her, since my schedule doesn’t give me much time to host.” This man was strange, Aesop decided. He didn’t exactly mind, so he would goad Victor into continuing to ramble.
“Is that right? What keeps you so occupied?” The hiss of boiling water hitting something hot reached him before Victor answered.
“Well, I have a steady job, but I pick up the odd job when I can and…”
Victor Grantz was a chatterbox. Typically, people like him would bore or irritate him into taking drastic measures. Maybe it was the amount of sunny energy that seemed to roll off of the man in waves that prevented him from losing his patience; he wasn’t sure.
He was nearly finished his meal when a potential reason occurred to him. He set his spoon down and turned to regard the blond.
“Why did you help me, Victor?” He questioned. Amber eyes went wide as he tilted his head.
“Well, because you needed help.” The kid was definitely weird. No matter; he’d be on his way soon.
“If I may make a suggestion, I would be careful about that kind of ideology. I could have been someone dangerous, you know.” Victor nodded in understanding with a small smile.
“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Winston, but I’ll be alright.” He let it be and finished his porridge; he felt more prepared to head out. He gave Wick a pat on the head and stood.
“I won’t impose any longer. Thank you for your help and hospitality; thank your doctor friend for me, as well, if you would.” Victor shook his head and stood along with him.
“I don’t mind at all! I’m glad that you’re feeling better.” He allowed a small smile onto his face while inclining his head.
“Good day, Mr. Grantz.”
His belongings were just where he suspected they had been left in the alley. He slipped on his suit jacket and accompanying cape before picking up his case. The rumbling from within told him of the discontent of what it contained. He had work to do.