Dirty Work

"Oh, well. I better not spend it all on a night of drinking, huh?" He noted with a wary frown. He would be the first to admit he wasn't the best at managing his money. Hell, he didn't even have a proper way to put his money for fuck's sake. Nonetheless, he would prevail... somehow.

"Look, this means a lot to me," admitted Ricky, replacing his frown with a smile. "You're the nicest Scot I've met since moving here and I don't even know your name. I mean, I probably shouldn't have told you mine but I ain't the brightest soul, evidently."
 
If the business deal between them was going to last a while, the very least the doctor could do was offer his name. He did prefer to be called by the title he had worked hard for when it came to those he wasn't friends with; it was a point of respect, as far as he was concerned. That didn't mean Ricky couldn't know his first name, of course.

"...It's Joseph. Doctor Joseph Lake. It's... not terribly important to you to know that, I suppose, but I realise I was rude yesterday when I dismissed your name so easily. Least I can do is level things out," he admitted as he calmly set his drink down, casting a glance outside with a faint smile to himself at how odd the situation was. He had never found his life thrilling, but he was content with the routine of work and socialising at events.

Yet, the odd (and rather macabre) situation he found himself in was risky, but with that came entertainment. He would never have imagined talking to someone like Ricky and sharing his whiskey with him, which made the current scene all the more amusing to him.

That said, it could have been the whiskey getting to his head. He could handle alcohol well, but the bottle he had cracked open was particularly strong.

"You have to make the money I give you last the week. I can't have you banging on my door at night begging for more. Use it wisely, that's all the advice I can give you."
 
"Look, I'm not going to come beggin' for money I didn't work for," he insisted, deciding to at least slow down for the second drink. The whiskey looked like it cost more than his life and while he would love another cup, he probably wasn't going to be offered another one. He wasn't best chums with Joseph.

"Joseph... Doctor Joseph Lake, eh? What a pristine name," he teasingly commented with a snort. "Of course, I ain't going to traipse the streets announcing our deal. You seem like you've got a lot goin' for you," he noted with a wave. "I'm jealous. You've got a lot of reading material. There's nothing to fuckin' do most days, reading at least seems like something to pass the time. If I'm to be honest with you, Joseph, this whole thing is the most fun I've had in months."
 
Inwardly cringing at the use of swear words, he forced himself to smile and ignore it as best he could. He wasn't fond of that sort of language, and none of the people he associated with used it. They classed it as the language of classes beneath them, though, to his credit, Joseph didn't necessarily care what sort of person swore. He hated how coarse that language was to him, and he'd gladly tell his friends so if they swore around him.

The only reason he hadn't reprimanded Ricky was because of the deal they had. He didn't want to say anything that might jeopardise it, even if he was sure that the money would keep Ricky coming, regardless of their professional relationship.

"I'm not sure this is something you should find fun-- but I understand. It... does break up the usual routine for me, and that's... at least entertaining, I suppose," he snorted, the first real laugh he had given. Again, it was most likely because of the strong whiskey. "...I'm not sure you'd like the books I have. They're all about my work. You don't seem very keen on the workings of the human body-- your reaction downstairs said enough."
 
"Can you blame me? The guys stuffing was all sprawled about!" He quickly defended with a huff, though with a wide grin as he too became tipsy. "How you aren't soaked in blood is a miracle, Joseph, though I ain't the neatest. How I managed to be so careful with the merchandise is a bloody miracle, really," he explained before letting out a chuckle.

"Is this your whole life? Staring down at bodies all day? Do you ever go outside and havd fun? You don't seem like the type to enjoy a nice pint down at the tavern," he admitted before coughing a tad when the lingering smoke finally hit him. "Ah, you're ridiculous. It's all for the greater good though, yeah?"
 
"...I have fun. It's a common misconception about me that I'm serious and boring. I can't get offended at you for thinking the same way most people do when they first meet me. If you were at the parties and social gatherings I attend, you'd see that I'm as fun as the next man. Just because I don't get drunk in taverns, swinging my fists about, doesn't mean I'm not fun. It's... a different sort of fun, I suppose. I'd prefer dining on fine wine and cheese than downing beers in the tavern," he admitted, though he doubted that that was any surprise. Any stranger could tell that he was refined in his tastes and what he derived enjoyment from in life. Taverns intimidated him and, perhaps more than that, they weren't a place for a man of his stature to venture to if he had any choice.

It just wasn't something a doctor like him would ever think of doing, and he had no doubt that he'd be mocked senselessly by the regulars there if he did pop in for a drink. He was quite happy in his preferred environment.

"I should get home, actually, so I can have a few hours sleep before work again the next morning. I'll walk you to the door," he offered, shrugging on his coat and collecting his hat from the nearby rack.
 
"Yeah, I suppose it's getting late for you, eh?" He agreed, getting up just to hear a satisfying crack in his back. While the woman was significantly lighter than the man, it didn't mean that it wasn't a strain on his back. Rubbing his lower back with a grimace, he was at least thankful that the whiskey - which little that remained was chugged back quickly - would numb it quite a bit. He'd inevitably wake up to searing pain in the afternoon, after getting a proper night's rest at a quick inn, though Ricky could be incredibly impulsive at times... especially when a little tipsy.

"What a gentleman, walking me out," he commented. "Though I suppose with a man of your class, it's implied. Look, this... is a good situation we're in. I don't want to spoil that. Ah... sorry, I'm babbling at this point. I've got a bit of a trek but nothin' wrong with a quiet, midnight stroll."
 
Even though the doctor was bordering on tipsy himself, he was still clear-minded enough to notice the other's tipsy state. His own home wasn't far from the school, so a two minute or so walk was all it took for him to be in the warmth of his home, ready for bed. The knowledge that it would take the other far longer than that normally wouldn't bother him - but it did when he saw the man struggle to walk straight.

He needed him to stay alive in order to keep the influx of corpses coming into the school. Nobody else had taken up the offer from his flyers, after all, so keeping Ricky from stumbling along in the dark was a priority. He had heard of countless people falling into the nearby river when drunk, only to perish and eventually end up on his operating table for science's benefit.

For obvious reasons, he didn't need Ricky being one of them.

"...I'll walk you home if you'd like," he offered. He didn't want to head into an area he wasn't used to, but the late hours comforted him a little. Most people would be in their homes by now, ready for a long day's work tomorrow, so if he were to venture along with Ricky, the likelihood of getting approached was slim. "I can't have you tripping and dying, can I? My home is close by, but... that'd be too personal to invite you to stay for the night. I don't think we're friends, Ricky; merely working acquaintances. I don't think it'd be strange to ensure you got home safely."
 
"I'm staying at an inn above Fredrick's Tavern," he slurred in response before tilting his head to the right. The whole job took a lot of walking, starting from the pub to the cemetery, which took at least a half hour, then to the operation theater which was another 20 minutes, the other day taking even longer due to how heavy the body was. Cutting through, although much quicker, was still a 20 minute walk alone.

"Oi, nobody better be showing up taking my job, he sternly murmured, wiggling his finger for emphasis. "This is my gig, yeah? Aha - shit," he hissed, stumbling a tad once out of the building. Groaning loudly, he cracked his back once again before offering a goofy grin. "Hey, might be a little fun for you, yeah? A pleasant walk with a handsome mate like me?"
 
Slowing his pace to keep up with the more drunken man, he was happy to listen to his slurred babbles. Well, until hearing his last remark, at leas.t The punishment for homosexuality was no secret to Joseph, which was why he was so protective of his private life. Everyone assumed he was married to his work, having no time to pursue women, but in reality, he was enjoying various sexual relationships with men. They weren't frequent, but he had had enough experience; he was hardly ignoring his desires.

He thought he hid his sexuality impeccably well, so the drunken remark caught him by surprise. He realised he was looking too much into it, but for a brief second, he almost called the other out on it, to make him elaborate further in case he had somehow picked up on something about Joseph.

"...You have a high opinion of yourself, don't you? I don't mind confidence," he began slowly, somehow getting over the comment without looking too worried about it. "I'm in no desire to start agreeing with you about your looks, but it's... good you have the confidence, even though I'm sure the whiskey has helped you with that."
 
"So are you saying you disagree?" He huffed, stopping his stumbling to wait for the other to catch up, his hands on his side. "I've had a handful of women and fellas alike say I'm a looker at the least, I take full offense to you saying otherwise," he scolded, though kept his grin nonetheless.

"So you're one of those 'married to me work' sort of fellow? That's a crock of shit," he noted, a brow raised. "You're not a poor looker either, Joseph. I'm surprised you don't have a cute lady on your arm. You've got this grizzly sense to 'ya, I'm sure that people would swoon at the look of 'ya," he complimented through his drunken slurs.
 
The compliments were strange. He didn't know if it was a regular occurrence for men to compliment other men on their looks down where Ricky lived, but Joseph had never had any man do that for him, besides the two or three men he had struck up relationships or flings with. As far as friends complimenting his looks, it really didn't happen, and if it did, suspicion would arise about that person's sexuality.

Not that he hated hearing how handsome he was, especially by someone he equally thought was attractive. Ricky was rougher than the men Joseph usually found his eye drawn to, admittedly, but he wasn't so elitist that he refused to admit that anyone in classes below him were easy on the eye. It was ridiculous to even assume that.

"...My work is my life," he began awkwardly, glad for the dark night and very dim streetlamps. They helped cover his awkward blush, after all. "I have no interest in marriage or courting a lady, it really isn't necessary right now. Maybe later in life.... Not right now, it's too much of a distraction."
 
"Life is too short, Joseph," he reminded, wagging his finger in feigned disappointment. "You don't want to wake up one day, late in age to realize you had spent your whole life dedicated to your work, realizing you had never done anything to make you happy!" He shouted dramatically before snorting.

"Listen, mate, I support whatever you plan to do," he reassured, wrapping an arm around the other's neck for both comfort and to stable himself a tad on the cobblestone. "Just saying that no one would deny you, yeah?"
 
Despite the generally positive words (and the abundance of compliments), Joseph was clearly uncomfortable with both the physical contact and the frequent use of the term 'mate'. He wasn't anyone's mate -he detested the term- and being pulled into an embrace he didn't want only made him grimace awkwardly. He knew the practicality behind the decision, to prevent anyone stumbling over which was what Joseph wanted to avoid, but that didn't mean he advocated this whatsoever.

Rather than kick up a fuss, he opted to faintly smile, hoping his lack of answers would allow the silence to continue. He had no problem defending himself in situations he found uncomfortable, but Ricky was tipsy and he had no idea how he might react to the opposition. He was stereotyping, but he assumed Ricky occasionally let his fists fly - and like hell did he want to be on the end of one.
 
"What, look at me! I'm doin' all the talking, aren't I?" He noted after a moment of silence, one that he saw as far too long of a pause. "Cat got your tongue, or are you the type who gets quiet when he's drunk? If that's the case, you don't want to spend a night with me and the others," he reassured with another snort, his grin only softening once actually at the hotel he was staying in.

"Well, I suppose this is where we part ways until next week?" He confirmed, his smile softening. "Unfortunate. I'm sure you wouldn't be caught dead in a tavern with me but I'd love to get a drink with you."
 
It was a terrible trait to have, given he felt like he was an idiot for behaving in such a way, but Joseph did tend to want to do things others presumed he naturally didn't want to. He had once sat through an opera production because a friend mentioned he wouldn't be able to stand it, and he had desperately wanted to prove her wrong. Perhaps it was because he didn't like other people assuming they knew his likes and dislikes, and his preferences, but it did usually only end up confirming their initial assumption of him. After all, he had hated the opera with every fibre of his being, just like his friend had originally said he would.

Yet, he couldn't help himself growing annoyed at the assumption from Ricky. Even though it was absolutely spot-on in its analysis of Joseph's character, he still felt offended that he had been analysed in such a way. While he had earlier grimaced at the idea of attending a tavern, he was now willing to do so if it meant proving that there was more to him that met the eye. It was true that he would end up waking up hating himself for it, but when he was as tipsy as he was, it didn't seem like that bad of an idea.

His life at the moment was surprisingly entertaining. Why shouldn't he push the boat out a little further and make an adventure of things?

"I can go to taverns, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Isn't that what they say?" He slurred with a faint smile, nodding firmly to himself once the decision was made. "I... I think I can have a nice glass of wine in a tavern, it shouldn't be that bad."
 
His soft smile immediately shot back to an eager grin, daring to tug the doctor into the noisy tavern surrounded by people Ricky had come to know as his closest friends. It might have been superficial, the friendships, but it was better than nothing. He was a stranger in a strange land to most so taking solace in what he could was important.

Inside, the eager chatting and even dancing had stopped almost abruptly upon seeing Joseph. One would have to be blind not to notice that he was far from the usual attendee. To see him beside Ricky lightened the cautiousness a tad, sure, though people immediately began to murmur. Sitting own at the edge of the bar, Ricky motioned Joseph over to sit beside him.

"I want the largest glass of wine you got, Franklin," Ricky demanded sternly, which earned a cautious glance from said man. "Relax, Relax. This guy here is good! A new mate of mine."

"... comin' right up," the bartender replied, albeit hesitantly. The longer Joseph seemed to stay, conversation and loud chatter started up again, at least making things a tad less awkward.
 
Joseph wasn't usually easily unnerved, though that was because he made a deliberate effort in life to avoid situations that would normally unnerve and intimidate him. He had no reason to feel uncomfortable in his every day life because he had made conscious decisions to enable most days to be perfectly agreeable to him. Why would he choose to highlight his nervousness when he could avoid it? It was why he had flat-out refused to enter these sorts of surroundings. They clearly made him uncomfortable and, from the reaction he got from the regulars, he wasn't supposed to be there.

Nobody like Joseph usually entered the downtown taverns, which were instead typically frequented by the lower classes. There was no rule preventing it, but it was almost an unwritten understanding that Joseph and men like him kept to their own society club lounges, while the working class had their taverns. Joseph felt like he was almost overstepping a boundary when he quietly took his seat, forcing himself not to walk straight back out at the attention on him.

"...This is nice," he complimented quietly as he tried to relax, taking his hat off with a smile. "Very nice-- cosy, really. I... can see its appeal."
 
"Really? I thought you'd be upset," he admitted with a snort, quietly thanking the bartender as he slid over the beer for Ricky. "It ain't a fancy ballroom with proper petticoats and wool hats but it's my home away from home, right, Frank?" He cooed, causing the bartender to roll his eyes and snort.

"I don't think I could handle the places you lurk, Joe," he admitted with a casual shrug. "Y'probably feel like a fish outta water but I can assure you I wouldn't let a pretty face like yours get even a speck of dirt on it. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."
 
"I work with dead bodies for a living, Ricky. I'm not afraid of getting a little dirty now and then. I'm not a cleanliness freak. I can handle this environment, it really isn't as bad as you assumed I'd consider it," he promised, reaching for his wine with a quiet thank you. He was being over-complimentary. He didn't like the tavern that much and the people only made him uncomfortable, but he was far too polite to admit that when they were within hearing distance. Besides, why would he risk upsetting Ricky when they had a good business deal going on?

"You shouldn't compliment my appearance so much, people might misconstrue your intentions," he smiled quietly, looking more uncomfortable with the praise than by the surroundings he was in. He was no stranger to people addressing his sexuality - it had happened once in his university days, and after fighting hard to win back his reputation, he really didn't want the accusatory finger pointed at him again. Ricky's easiness in dropping compliments, as nice as they are, were far too risky for him to accept.

"...Sorry, it's just... can't be too careful, you know? People are quick to accuse, even when it's far from the truth. I'd happily marry and settle down when I'm older. Some people see my reluctance to do so early on in life as... suspicious. It's sad, really, that a man can't dedicate his early life to work without suspicion arising."
 
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