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It's another Tuesday night down at Laughy's, and as per usual, Dareth finds himself swept up in the merriment all throughout his establishment.
They've got a great lineup of comedy planned for the night, along with a lot of contestants for the karaoke contest. The place is a bit more packed than usual, even for a Tuesday, but Dareth will never complain about more business. And if that means putting in a little extra hard work, well, so be it! It's his favorite day of the week for a reason, you know.
Crisp white shirt and suspender-supporting brown slacks, Dareth strolls up and down all the tables in the place, making his usual rounds to keep an eye on things. One of the perks of actually owning the place is that he gets to pay other people to do all the actual work—he sends a nod over Tony the Bartender's way—but if need be, he's always ready to lend a helping hand where he's needed.
He loves this place—it's his greatest investment! A place for people to escape from the craziness of their lives (or just another day in Ninjago, as some of the locals have begun to say) or to let loose, unwind, and relax from time to time. Whether a regular or a new face, Dareth is prepared to welcome any patron in with a handshake, a smile, a good drink, and a better time. All if it is a reminder of why it's all so worth it.
…but, the real (and probably more personal) reason Tuesday nights in particular are his favorite is because this is the night Ronin makes his usual stop-by.
Ronin will swear up and down that it's only because of the discount promotion that Dareth runs on Tuesdays. But, when most of Ronin's time is spent laughing at the more crude jokes that somehow find their way to the stage, getting his fill of mind-numbing drinks, or speaking easy with Dareth, that’s a hard argument to push. Dareth knows there's a smile that Ronin reserves for this place and this place alone—one that's more of a subtle smirk, but still makes his eyes twinkle with delight. And…it never fails to make Dareth's heart flutter. Just a bit.
So yeah, it's not really a secret that Dareth gets a little bit extra excited whenever Ronin happens upon the bar. Ronin’s always got a plethora of tales to tell, whether from his bounty hunting endeavors or his close shaves skirting the edge of the law. Honestly, it’s a small piece of the grander adventures Dareth wishes he could have on a consistent basis…but resorting to thievery or hunting down questionable individuals to makes ends meet never appealed to him, so. Running a bar it is!
Still, he’s especially curious as to what Ronin’s been up to as of late, as he's been showing up a little less frequently than usual. Could be a job that’s been keeping him away…or maybe this place just doesn’t hit the same way that it used to.
Dareth shoves that thought away, not even daring to entertain it.
Because he can’t imagine not having another night where he gets to see the smug grin on Ronin’s face as he boasts about a recent swindle, or the crinkle in his eyes when he loses himself in a story of some fisticuffs. He doesn't want to lose the knowing gazes they trade one another across the counter, or the subtle brushing of the hands they do when Dareth passes Ronin his fifth drink. He doesn't want to forget the feeling of how his heart skips a beat when Ronin (in the most roundabout way possible, honestly) asks Dareth something as simple as how his day went.
It's all those little things, rolled up into one…and it would be a very lonely reality to suddenly lose all of that. Would Dareth be able to handle losing any of that? Probably not. Even the famed Brown Ninja has a weakness, and in these circumstances, it just so happened to be a man named Ronin.
But for today at least, Dareth doesn't have to worry about his concerns coming true, as the crowd towards the front suddenly erupts into uproarious cheers. Ronin—the man, the myth, the legend himself—emerges from the doorway, firing off disarming smiles like some kind of rockstar and greeting those he hasn't seen in ages. Dareth's breath catches—a newfound kind of energy floods the room, swirling and centering all on Ronin…
Or maybe that's just Dareth hyper-fixating.
Spontaneously fueled by a surge of adrenaline, he makes a mad scramble from the far side of the room, slithering through the crowd with the flexibility of a snake, and fighting his way to the bar counter. Tony's currently cleaning a glass—as all bartenders do—when Dareth suddenly throws himself over the counter beside him. He raises an eyebrow at Dareth's rather haphazard arrival, especially when Dareth's panting, heaving, and having worked up a sweat from the brief burst of physical activity.
But Dareth spies Ronin taking his usual spot at the counter, briefly distracted talking to another patron. Fire resurges in Dareth's eyes.
"H-Hey, Tony…" Dareth peels himself back up and properly slides behind the counter, strapping on the spare apron. "Go ahead and take thirty. I can cover ya for a little bit."
"Already, Boss? It's barely eight!" Bewilderment fills Tony's face as he sets his glass down. "It's just before the last-minute rush…! Are you sure?"
Oh yeah, Dareth knew that. …somewhere in the back of his mind where more important thoughts have been stashed. But his heart ignores his mind and centers on Ronin regardless, a sappy smile spreading across his face.
"…yeah, I'm sure."
What's a god to a non-believer? And what's a dinner rush to a determined man in love?
Tony catches where Dareth's gaze drifts towards the rugged man at the end of the counter, now somewhat impatiently waiting to be tended to. Tony smirks, giving Dareth a knowing nudge in the arm.
"…ah, I see what's going on. Good luck with that one, Boss."
With that, Tony very quickly and very pointedly takes his leave, leaving Dareth with his hands full of the latest swath of customers. They flood in as a single tsunami, but Dareth handles them all one at a time. Dareth makes quick work of the shorter orders first, mixing up complicated cocktails and whipping up food for those looking for a quick bite. He works his way down the counter, keeping his eye on the prize waiting alone at the end. A few patrons try to hit Dareth up for some small talk and brief conversation, but Dareth politely batters down all their attempts. There's really only one person in the world he has to talk to, right now.
"Heeeey, Welcome to Laughy's! What can I get started for ya?"
Ronin blinks, tearing his gaze away from the performer on the stage. He leans back, smiling up at a slightly breathless Dareth preparing to take his order.
"Well, well, well, I've just barely sat down, and already I've getting the royal treatment from the owner…!" Ronin leans his cheek on his hand, his mouth pulling into a grin. "Must be my lucky day, huh?"
"You say that every Tuesday," Dareth reminds him, and Ronin throws his head back in a hearty laugh. This is good—Ronin being in an already jovial mood even before putting his lips to a single drink is a really good sign. Today might be a good day to…ask the question. Y'know, the question he's been dreading since last week…and the week before that…and the week before—
Dareth gulps harshly, pulling himself out of his spiraling thoughts and back into his bartender persona.
"Ahaha, what can I say, I'm always eager to please our VIP members," Dareth shoots back with a wink. "So, what'll it be today, Ronin? The roughest thing I've got? Or maybe something lighter?"
"…nah, nothing too strong today," Ronin decides, drumming his fingers along the counter and pretending to ponder it over. "I think today I want…a honeydew boba tea."
Dareth pulls back, shocked. While Ronin has had that drink in the past, it's not normally one of his go-tos.
"Didn't you…have that last time?"
"Oh, you remember, eh?" Ronin smirks, leaning both elbows on the counter now. "Do you keep track of all your patrons orders, or am I just special?"
Dareth does not turn red against his will. And Ronin totally doesn’t notice and simper in his direction. Dareth's just imagining things.
"I gotta say, Dareth, not many bars have the honor of dragging me in for the chance to even sip a non-alcoholic drink," Ronin says with cheer, tilting his head in Dareth's direction. "I dunno what your boba secret is, but I can't get enough of these…! So hit me with another honeydew boba, will ya?"
"Sure thing, pal," Dareth declares, relaxing a bit as he sets off to make the drink. But now that Ronin's gone and said that, there's pressure. This has to be perfect.
And yet, while whipping up a drink servable only to royalty (or the equivalent), Dareth can't help but think of how lucky he is that Ronin even give him the time of day at all, let alone this…easy relationship they've found themselves in. Sure, they have a few mutual acquaintances, and have been roped into one or two misadventures with one another…but outside of the bar, they've never really spent dedicated time with one another. A few coincidental drinks on one night, a quick happenstance dinner and a movie on another…but never anything planned.
With Ronin being extremely detail-oriented to the very last letter, and Dareth struggling not to just throw caution to the wind and wing everything…it's been hard for Dareth to organize anything up to Ronin's standards, let alone actually ask. But all he really wants to do (a baby step, if you will) is invite Ronin over to his house. A stay-in date, one might say. Something cozy, low stakes, and yet…very intimate.
But…that's so domestic. And official. What if that's moving too fast?
…or what if it scares a freelancing tumbleweed like Ronin away?
As he returns with Ronin's specially requested boba, he notices Ronin briefly speaking to another bargoer, having stood up to do so. More wight is put upon one side in something of an unnatural way, and while Ronin doesn't display any signs of agony, Dareth immediately knows the reason why. His blood goes cold, but does his best to ignore it as Ronin shuffles back into his seat, eager for his drink.
Dareth sets the drink before Ronin with a sweeping gesture of his arm. Ronin chuckles under his breath, enjoying the bit of showmanship, and gladly begins to dine upon Dareth's creation. While Ronin's distracted, Dareth fiddles with his apron…and bites his lip, even as he tries to be casual.
"…is your, um, leg still acting up?"
"Huh?" Ronin reels back, startled by the sudden breach of topic. "Oh, ah, yeah, but it's nothing much. After weeks of not walking on it, I'm still struggling to really get back into relying on both legs, y'know? It'll be fine after a bit more physical therapy."
Ronin catches the rather aghast look that has morphed into Dareth's face. He raises a hand in attempt to calm the poor panicked man.
"Hey, relax, I'm not in pain or anything, and it'll get better, so, no big deal."
Ronin leans back, sipping at his tea and gnawing a boba he manages to suck up.
"…but in my line of work? A little broken leg is just a scratch. It's a far cry from the worst of injuries I've seen."
As if to prove his point, he smirks while waving the fingers of his prosthetic arm around. Dareth chuckles, albeit nervously, and fumbling with his clothes.
"Still, I'm…really sorry about that. I didn't—I didn't realize—"
"As you've only told me a couple hundred times," Ronin snickers, eyes falling closed. "It wasn't your fault, Dareth. It's not like you meant to do it."
“I know, but…behind these devilish good looks and unending natural charisma I…do have a tendency to make things worse."
At that, Ronin actually frowns, and it's the most disappointed he's looked all night. Dareth winces under the intensity, fiddling with a sleeve and refuses to make eye contact. Maybe Ronin's finally realized just how much of a screw up Dareth actually is—
"…why would you say that about yourself?"
It's stark, honest question. And the bluntness of it leaves Dareth feeling very unprepared.
"…is it not true?" Dareth retorts, still avoiding Ronin's eyes. "For every good thing I do, there's always a setback…for every time I've helped 'save' the day, I've also caused an incident, or held someone back, or got someone hurt…including you…and that…doesn’t make a for very good person, y'know?"
Dareth expects Ronin to agree, to encourage the idea, to dredge up more examples of how Dareth fails even in success…but Ronin just laughs instead, dry and a little brittle, before slamming a fist against the bar's counter.
"Have you seen me?" Ronin declares with a snort, gesturing to his whole body. "I've literally been to jail a few times. I've lied, stolen, exploited cheated, and manipulated others, all in the name of my own self interest…and you're standing here, trying to convince me that the guy who takes in children to teach them to defend themselves, volunteers to chaperon field trips, opens a family-friend bar, and who has always done what he can for the sake of others…is one that is somehow a bad person."
Ronin scoffs, nearly crushing his boba cup with how he's gripping it.
"Try again, Dareth."
Dareth sighs—when Ronin puts it like that, he's got a point. Not that he thinks Ronin as being a bad person, either…has he done bad things? Absolutely. Are they things Dareth approve of? Well, no. Has Ronin made efforts to change? Yes, actually. Mostly. Somewhat. More or less…but even then, he's still not a bad person.
And if he's not, then Dareth certainly isn't.
And if Ronin can insist that about Dareth…then Dareth can ask one stupid question.
“…well, in that case…would you at least let me make it up to you?”
Ronin swirls his cup, faking disinterest, watching the boba bounce around at the bottom. “And how do you propose to do that, pray tell?”
Dareth does a poor attempt at hiding his shrug.
"M-Maybe, I dunno, you could…you could come over some time? Like, to my house? I don't wanna say to hang out because that sounds lame but I guess that is technically what we'd be doing but I could order takeout for us only if you wanted to, I wouldn't want to assume or impose or make you uncomfortable or—"
"Dareth?"
Dareth coughs, clearing his throat of the rest of words currently stuck in it. "Uh, y-yeah?"
"Lean in closer."
…confused, Dareth does, and immediately falls into Ronin's trap. He's grabbed by the collar and yanked downwards, unable to think in the short two seconds that pass in the time between. Ronin crashes their lips together, forceful and eager, sweeping Dareth right up into it as well. And Dareth is very strongly reminded of why he's so attracted to this man.
They break apart, prying eyes be damned, and Ronin's smirk is downright delicious. He looses his death-grip on Dareth's collar and says:
"Make it a date, and you got yerself a deal, Dareth."
Dareth, red in the face and utterly strapped for words at this point, only has enough brain power left to give an agreeable nod.
They spend another few moments just gazing into each other's eyes—at least, until, an awkward cough erupts from Dareth's right. The sound snaps them both of out of it pretty quickly, and they find Tony, having witnessed everything firsthand.
"Uhhhh, Boss? I'm back from break," says Tony, visibly torn between being embarrassed and breaking down laughing. His twitching lips give him away even as Dareth springs away from Ronin, while Ronin is enjoying this way too much. Dareth tries to rearrange his clothes back into a much more presentable and professional orientation, muttering something about Tony taking his spot back.
But before he leaves, he faces Ronin one last time, a little hope shining in his eyes.
"Does…does next Tuesday work for you?"
Ronin smiles, less sharp this time, and nods.
"Yeah, next Tuesday works fine."
High on the adrenaline of Ronin actually agreeing to do this and fueled by the dread of 'dear FSM what if something goes wrong', Dareth goes on a cleaning spree of the grandest kind in the scant week he has until Ronin's official arrival. And okay, listen, it has been…a while since he's actually fully done some true cleaning around his place, but he's been busy! Training the next generation of animal-style masters, running a business, getting involved in ninja shenanigans…it's been a lot! And that also means a few dishes don't get done…laundry starts to pile up…trash is neglected…
Dareth wrinkles his nose, only just now becoming aware of how…not good it smells in here.
And the thought of Ronin waltzing in, taking one look at the atrocious sight, and turning heel and booking it strikes like lightning.
Dareth can see it in his mind's eye: Ronin expecting something a little classy, sophisticated yet dangerous, only to immediately snag his foot on a stray pizza box from who knows how long ago, and he can Ronin say so clear in his mind a few words everyone would dread to hear:
"Do you really live like this?!"
Dareth…cannot have that happen. This date cannot be a disappointment! He…probably wouldn't survive the rejection. Not after already making it this far.
Thus, Dareth straps on the sturdiest pair of rubber gloves his owns, pulls on a comically large set of fishermen boots, and tugs his mask over his face…and from there, the Brown Ninja gets to work on Operation: Prove That I Don't Actually Live Like A Filthy Heathen.
The first monster to defeat is The Dishes. A towering mass of accumulated plates that looms over the sink in the kitchen, its many cutlery appendages sticking out from every which way in the giant pile. Dareth takes a deep breath, already knowing this monster's weakness is scalding ht water, dish soap, and a few rounds of vigorous scrubbing. So he brandishes his mighty golden weapon—a common household sponge—and sets off on the attack. The dishes clatter and screech as they are scraped and cleansed of old food, going from grimly to pristine in a matter of minutes. Dareth calls upon the speed of a cheetah for this task—as he really doesn't want to do this for longer than he has to. There's a reason even the Green Ninja would sing about the annoyance of having to clean dishes.
The second opponent is that confounded laundry. It makes its home its several domains: the bathroom floor, the laundry room door, the bedroom closet, and other odds and ends bleed into various other parts of the apartment. The Laundry is a scoundrel with many factions across the battlefield, but Dareth raises his clothing capturing capsule—aka, laundry basket—and starts rounding up the various factions scattered around the house. There's sleeper agents in the form of the missing socks that absolutely refuse to be located, designed to make this task take longer than necessary. But Dareth is much more cunning—he'll leave those for Future Dareth to deal with. He uses the dexterity of an octopus to organizes his darks, lights, and browns, fetch the detergent, wash load after load, dry load after load, and finally fold and put everything away. He didn't even know he had this many clothes…or that many Brown Ninja robes.
But from the ashes of the laundry rises another, hidden foe waiting in shadows: a treasure trove of trash once lost to time, along with an army of ants that seek to claim it for themselves. Dareth will need two tools of great influence to conquest this one: The Almost Infinite Bag of Holding, and the Anti-Gravity Suction Machine. Dareth plucks every bit of trash he can get his hands on and drops it into the trash bag, banishing each member of the Trash Militia to the dark realm. He then unsheathes the might of the vacuum cleaner, sucking up the crumbs of stragglers left behind and turning a whole tribe of ants into nothing more than an ill-gotten memory.
And for a finishing touch, Dareth proceeds to spray all rooms with a hint of "Ninja Air Freshener" to banish any lingering orders…and finally, officially, the cleaning is complete.
…it takes a grand total of five days to complete all of these exhausting missions, with the sixth day being entirely used to sleep. And Dareth almost sleeps halfway through day seven too, but—
Ronin's coming.
Ronin's coming?
RONIN's COMING RONIN'S COMING RONIN'S COMING—
Rising with the force of a herd of stampeding buffalo, Dareth fight a battle with his blanket to get out of bed sometime after one o'clock in the afternoon. His foot snags in the corner and sends him toppling out of bed, but he stills tears down the hallway, blanket and all. There's still a few assorted odds and ends he has to tackle before Ronin arrives, including a shower, choosing an outfit, getting the take out order…Dareth feels like he's been running a marathon for the last week, but if all goes well…
Every single moment will have been worth it.
Hours later on this fine Tuesday evening, Ronin pulls his hand back from knocking on the door to the address Dareth had given him, coughing into his arm shortly afterwards. He's not nervous or anything, he just—doesn't really know what to expect. It's been a while since he's been…in the saddle? On the scene? …however or whatever kids these days call it, and he feels severely under prepared.
Nevermind the fact that he boldly and publicly kissed Dareth in his own bar, but, well. Ronin's never been one for following normal conventions.
…still. When Dareth proposed an invite over to his house, for a stay-in date of all things…Ronin had been somewhat excited by the prospect. You'd think a guy who constantly lives on the edge of danger would be more interested in an evening spent in more eventful places, but no. Even a guy like Ronin could use some genuine downtime where adrenaline isn't the one and only thing keeping him going.
And spending it with Dareth at that? Well heck, that's already a deal and a half right there.
Ronin even dressed pretty casually too—a green tank top, black shorts, and he forwent his usual red hat. He still brought a bottle of his finest and favorite wine (that's a thing people still do, right?) if only to help keep the conversation going should this date run late...and if not, then Dareth can just keep it as a gift. No big deal.
....Ugh, when did he become such a sap?
Ronin already knows the answer to that, especially when a heaving Dareth whooshes open the door. Ronin blinks—Dareth definitely looks like he's been in a hurry for whatever reason, his robes untied and even open in the front. His hair, while styled as usual, also has a different sort of swoop to it, which Ronin actually kind of likes. And instead of an actual greeting, the two get stuck gaping at each other, like neither of them can actually believe that this is genuinely happening.
"You…brought wine," Dareth states the obvious and breaks the ice at last. Ronin nods: it's a concocted combination of grapes and raspberries grown somewhere in the southern parts of the island, accumulating in a sweet with a particular note of a sour aftertaste that Dareth know Ronin favors above all else. Fitting, for a man such as Ronin.
Ronin chuckles, although it's not as rough around the edges as it usually is. There's something reserved yet vulnerable in the way he laughs.
"Ah…yeah. I figured the occasion called for something a little more…sophisticated than just boba."
He gains a mischievous glint in his eyes, lips pulling into a smirk.
"Although, perhaps, we could be the first to invent boba wine? I bet that would go over well with some well-to-do rich suits."
Dareth explodes into cackles at the mere idea, holding himself up against the doorframe just to keep himself standing. He does eventually shuffle to the side to make room for Ronin to enter, which Ronin does…and then it dawns on him, in a single moment of clarity—
He's in Dareth's house.
For starter, it's…very brown, from the walls to the floors to nearly everything in between, which really shouldn't surprise Ronin at this point in their relationship. There's a few pops of color to be found in the vibrant green plants stashed in the corners, which Dareth must diligently take care of to maintain such a richness in their leaves. He’s even bold enough to possess an ivory couch, and contrary to popular belief, it actually is spotless.
Ronin nods to himself, somewhat impressed, sliding off his shoes. He continues taking in the small apartment, sensing a warmth that his own various hideouts and shops have always seemed to lack.
It's all…actually rather homey, which is…something Ronin can't say he's exactly used to.
It’s nice.
Ronin starts to head over to the couch, where he spots a few leftover cans of lemon-lime soda and a cola bottle sitting on the table that Dareth must have missed during his cleaning extravaganza. Dareth, in a flurry of panic, somehow manages to roundhouse kick them straight into the kitchen two rooms away, where they hit the floor in a cacophony of clatters. Dareth grins sheepishly, then scurries into the kitchen to attend the mess. Ronin just chuckles—how is one chaotic man so endearing?—and proceeds to sit on the couch.
"…so!" Dareth begins upon his return, clapping his hands together. "I got take out from Chen's, since we both love that place. Spared no expense on the puffy potstickers! And…well, I don't have a lot in the way of entertainment, but I figured we could watch some tv or something, maybe a movie? Or we can do whatever you want, really; I didn't think I'd get this far, actually, ahahaaaa…"
Dareth rubs the back of his neck, anxiety starting to fester as Ronin continues to just sit there quietly.
“…ah, but sorry if that’s too boring? Or too low key, I should have—“
“Dareth, a night in sounds amazing.” Ronin draws out the last word like someone releasing a heavy weight off their chest. He even leans further back into the couch, almost as if trying to become one with the plush cushions. "You don't understand how nice sitting around and watching tv sounds right about now. That, and something from Chen's? That's like the best possible thing you could have bribed me with!"
Dareth releases a laugh, glad his plan is going over well after all, and takes a seat beside Ronin.
“You don’t…get a lot of time to just relax, do you?”
“I mean, unless you count the time I spent letting my leg heal, nah, not really.” Ronin shrugs, glancing out the window. "Always on the run, always after the next catch, always after the next bargain to steal…it's always something, y'know?"
Ronin perks up a bit, smiling with his eyes.
"That's…another reason why I like hanging around Laughy's so much. Not only is it a refreshing break from, well, everything, and I get to see the hunk of a man who owns the place, of course…"
Dareth sputters. Ronin smirks and continues.
"…but I get to have different experiences every time I go there. A lot of places….well, with my reputation, there's not very many places I can go without getting into some kind of trouble or scuffle. But at Laughy's? I'm welcomed in like family, and…I appreciate that."
Ronin coughs, hoping his face heating up isn't entirely obvious. Or at least, more subtle than whenever it happens to Dareth.
"So, uh, anyway. When you said you wanted to have a stay-in date…that's something I've never done before. And definitely didn't think it'd be something anyone else would ever want to do with me…so, thanks Dareth."
Ugh, Ronin can feel the sweetness lingering in his mouth after that speech. As if he needs diabetes on top of everything else. But, weirdly enough, Dareth hasn't said anything yet. Ronin pulls out from where he's melded with the couch to try and see Dareth better…only to find him blubbering like a baby.
"Why didn't you say so sooner?!" Dareth gasps between sobs, trembling. "I was so afraid you'd say no for so long...! And to think this is just what you wanted the whole time...We could've been doing this a long time ago if I knew..!"
"…aww, Dar, don't get all sappy on me now," Ronin says with a wince.
"I-I'm not, I swear…!" Dareth fully turns around now, lip quivering as giant tears roll down his cheeks. "Y-You got sappy first…! I can't help that I'm SENSITIVE!"
"I-I was just being honest! For once!"
Dareth completely bursts into tears now, Ronin sitting bewildered and not entirely sure of what to do.
"Will ya stop crying already?!"
"It's not crying! It's a natural cleansing of my eyes…in emotionally intense moments!"
"So, crying."
"W-Well, how do you know that I'm not just practicing a top secret Crocodile Tears technique—"
"Dareth," Ronin cuts him off, placing both hands upon Dareth's shoulders. Dareth ceases wailing for the moment, looking something like a pitiful puppy as he waits for Ronin to continue. Ronin huffs a small sigh from his nose before raising one hand to thumb away a few stray tears.
"Listen, Dareth…we live in Ninjago. Our lives are always going to get sucked into something crazy, whether we ask for it or not. But if we have the time to just sit around and do nothing but enjoy each others' company? Then I'm absolutely going to take that chance. In fact...maybe I should have said something sooner, because I can't believe you would have thought otherwise."
"A guy like me…is just grateful that someone like you even cares at all."
Dareth sniffles, getting all choked up again, but Ronin huffs and puts a finger to Dareth's lips.
"Now, enough emotional turbulence and exposing our deepest thoughts or whatever for one day—I'm starving." Ronin then pulls away to clasp his hands together, rubbing them eagerly. "So! Where's that takeout, huh? I hope you got it from the main Chen's—Skylor makes a mean orochon bowl...!"
"And the best puffy potstickers in all Ninjago. but don't worry, I got the whole dinner platter so we didn't have to choose!" Dareth adds eagerly, rising from his seat to go grab it from where he's been keeping it warm. He wipes away any final traces of tears, a broad smile in its place.
So Dareth brings out the meal, setting out chopsticks and plates to use, and Ronin fishes around until he finds Dareth's remote stashed away between the couch cushions. He waggles it smugly in Dareth's direction, and if discovering some long lost treasure. Dareth huffs in embarrassment—must've gotten lost during the cleaning spree–and Ronin turns on the tv to whatever happens to be playing in the moment.
There's no disaster to distract them. No sudden adventure, no life or death danger, and not even a sudden dinner rush or returning employee to interrupts them this time. No accidental running into each other and only then deciding to hang out afterward. This night was planned by them, for them, all about them, and they couldn't have asked for better.
And if Ronin falls asleep halfway through some movie both of them have at least seen four times each, stuffed full of the best noodles and potstickers in the realm, and makes himself comfortable using the crook of Dareth's shoulder as a pillow…then, well, Dareth's not going to shy away from it. He gently pries the remote from Ronin's limp hand and shuts off the television, gettin comfortable in the spot next to Ronin. With how hard h sleeps, the both of them are about to be here for quite a while.
Dareth slips his arm around Ronin, and allows his eyes to fall shut as well. Maybe Ronin's not the only one in dire need of a slow night at home, taking some well deserved rest.
If you asked both of them hours later when they woke up, tangled with one another, if they regretted how they spent their night? Both would deny it, as they wouldn't be able to think of a better way to spend a Tuesday.