bsumone | ❝ Nobody knows where you’re going ❞

That all sounded pretty wonderful to Dal. He wasn't looking for excitement. Some might think his life was exciting; he thought it was anything but. His big dream was to have a little house with a little yard and enough money to pay someone to mow that little lawn for him. A modest closet with more than four outfits and one pair of shoes.

He melted a little over the arm of the couch, picturing Gabriel sitting at the kitchen table with puzzle pieces strewn all over it,

"That sounds really nice," he sighed.

He laughed softly at that. Not many people he knew would say that sounded nice. Most liked to tease him for how boring he was. But honestly that was all he wanted. He wanted to be boring since he got far too much excitement and stress from his job. A stress he wanted, of course, but a stress all the same.

"A shame I don't have a puzzle here. I could show you how good I am at them," he declared with another little laugh. "How about you? What do you like to do for fun when you have the chance?"

He knew those chances were slim given the life Dal had to lead. But that didn't mean they couldn't exist at all.

"You can show me eventually," he encouraged. He hoped. Gabriel still had to catch the killer and then they'd have to wait for the court case to conclude. It could be a while, but Dal didn't mind waiting. If Gabriel was willing to wait for someone like him... At least they could still get to know each other between now and then.

His lashes hooded his eyes and a little color came to his cheeks. "I like to draw."

"Oh? What do you like to draw?" The makings of a potential artist here. That could be a job for Dal to look into one day if he really wanted to stop what he was doing. Food for thought for another time when this case wasn't hanging over their heads.

"People, mostly." He has a whole notebook full of them, from people he sees on the block, the other sex workers, johns (who would hate to know he's that good at remembering faces) to the kind older lady who sneaks him leftovers and the people who work in the restaurant below him. Gabriel may even be in there. More than once.

"I got interested in it when I was still little." And now it's his escape from his life.

"If you ever feel comfortable with it I would love to look at your drawings."

But, he knew sometimes that could be a very private thing for people so he wouldn't pry. Just let him know that the interest was there but that it would be on his terms. That was the right way to go about it really. "What draws you to wanting to draw people?"

That was a more complicated question than Gabriel may have realized when he posed it. Dal's expression was thoughtful. Not because he had to actually think about the answer, but more that had to find the right English words for it.

"I'm a ghost," he began. That, he firmly believed. No ID, no friends, no one who would ever miss him if he just stopped showing up on his corner or never came back to his room. "I dunno a lot about the people I see, but I want 'em to be remembered."

Gabriel observed him for a time as he thought about that answer. It made sense with the life that Dal was living now. It made sense with why he felt the way he did. Yet there was something sad about it. Something not very true anymore either.

"You're not a ghost anymore, Dal. That I promise."

Because he mattered to him. Even after this case.

Ah, that's right! He's still getting used to that. He huddled up a little on his cushion, then reached over to take hold of Gabriel's hand. Surely, that wasn't crossing any lines in this specific moment. He wouldn't hold on long, but Dal wanted the contact. A touch he wanted, that wasn't a prelude to anything sexual, just... warm and caring.

"Thank you."

He not only accepted the touch but he gave that hand a squeeze. The agent smiled at him to accept his thanks and gave a nod before releasing his hand. Now that he thought about it, those hands were very soft. Delicate really. Like so many of Dal's features.

"Have you ever thought about studying art to become an artist?"

That was so nice. Gabriel's hand was big and felt strong against his. Even though the touch only lasted briefly, Dal delighted in it. It felt so nice just to touch another person with meaning and to be touched back without expectation.

"Thought about it." But he doesn't even have a high school diploma which he's pretty sure he needs to get into any kind of school. Not to mention his reading issues. "I don't think it's possible for me."

"It's possible actually. You'd need to get your GED but there are classes you can take to learn what you need to in order to pass the test. Online ones too. And as someone who had to learn to speak a language he wasn't born speaking, I can show you tricks for learning to read better to help you out. But, I think if you really want to do it, it's very possible for you."

It would take a couple years of work to get that far but it seemed like Dal really did want to get off the streets after all. So, since that was the case, he wanted to help him out with that. "English is a challenging language but once you learn the tricks it can be easier to figure out what you're looking at."

A couple years to get off the street didn’t seem too taxing. Especially with someone to help him. If he could carve out some time between work and sleep… He wondered if he could ask around at the shelter if they knew of any programs that could help him with getting the GED once he had a little more mastery of reading in English.

“I’d like that.”

"Alright. After this case is done we'll add that to our list." Of things they had to do together. First to talk about them and also to get Dal's English skills better. He was good at speaking it but to take the test he was going to have to be able to read.

"Then you'll be able to go to art school like you wanted."

God, he was so happy just then and it showed in the way his eyes brightened and he wiggled a little in his seat. It felt like a dream. Gabriel felt like a dream. A kind and caring man who wanted to help him with no strings attached. A handsome gay man who would consider being involved with him in spite of the life he's lived. It's something he's dreamed of, in secret, for such a long time. Dal closed his eyes to keep himself from crying.

"I don't how to thank you."

"Draw me something after you get into school. Anything you want. That can be your thank you to me."

And he would treasure it too. To know that he helped get Dal somewhere he really wanted to be and not just fighting to survive on the streets. Those hands deserved to hold pencils and brushes. Not parts of strangers he had no feelings for at all. Gabriel got a notification on his phone.

"Ah the food is here. I'll be right back." Grabbing his key, he went to head down to the lobby to grab the pizza and the sodas.

"Yay!" Yes, he bounced a little in his seat. With a bright smile, he assured Gabriel he'd be here. Where was he going to go anyway? And why would he abandon a hot meal and good company? There wasn't really anything for him to get since they were in a hotel. They'd just have to eat over the box or on napkins since they didn't have plates. But he did spy the plastic cups and the container for ice. But no ice. That was in the hall and he didn't have the key. He could get that when Gabriel got back so their drinks would be cold.

By the time Gabriel came back, Dal had moved the blanket off the couch so they wouldn't get any food on it. He waited by the door so he could open it when he heard the lock click. Gabriel probably had his hands full with a box of pizza and two sodas.

It didn't take long to get back up with the food. Though he was surprised when the door just opened. Laughing, he smiled warmly at Dal and stepped inside so that way he could go put the pizza down on the table. "It's still nice and hot. Smells good too."

And he was looking forward to a night of pizza with Dal. It sounded like the perfect way to relax.

Oh, he inhaled deeply the second Gabriel walked by him. It smelled so good! His eyes followed the agent until he was pizza-free, then Dal scampered over and held his hand out for the room key.

"I'm gonna get ice for our drinks."

"Oh. Thank. Down the hall you turn right and it's on the other side of the elevators."

Fishing out his key, he handed it over to him. Then he gave him a smile as he went to see about making sure the napkins were ready for them to be able to eat the pizza without making complete messes of everything.

Dal nodded in thanks for the key. He grabbed the ice bucket and darted out the door. He didn't have any trouble finding the ice machine. And thankfully there was no chance encounter with the businessman from the bathroom. Dal returned with the bucket full of ice pretty quickly. He set that and the room key down on the table and moved to the table to oggle the pizza. If ever he looked lustful, it was starting at that pie.

"Oh my god, it looks so good!"

Pulling a slice off, he set it on a couple napkins for Dal. Then he got one of his of his own before getting their drinks read. Sitting back, he looked at the TV and realized it was an infomercial. Chucking, he pulled up the guide to look for something for them to actually watch. Or just have in the background.

"Enjoy the pizza. There will be plenty for us to have tomorrow too."

He took a bite, pulling the slice away as the cheese stretched longer. It was hot and delicious, prompting a loud hum of appreciation from Dal. The spicy sausage was great and he found he absolutely loved the artichoke hearts. To the point that he picked a couple off to have them alone.

When he saw Gabriel scanning through the TV guide, he looked over and murmured, "Nothing scary, please."

"I'll let you in on a secret." Leaning over to him, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "I don't like scary movies either."

Then he smiled and found some romance comedy instead. It was likely to be terrible but he really didn't mind that. What mattered was that the story would have some charm to it and if they missed parts of it while talking then it wouldn't matter that much.

Dal hasn't had much opportunity to watch TV in the last eight years, so even something as routine and trope-filled as a romantic comedy was interesting to him. He tried to chat, but between eating and getting distracted by the TV, he didn't manage much conversation.

At one point, he got up to have another slice. He fetched one for Gabriel, too. When he sat back down, before he had the chance to let the TV distract him again, he peered over at Gabriel with another question in mind.

"Does anyone call you Gabe or is it always Gabriel?"

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