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[ do you really want him to dislocate his thumbs to slip the cuffs (again), Rude ]

you could use a lot of things. perfect guy like you, you deserve nothing but the best.

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[Continued from here]

[ It's seven o'clock on the dot and just as Angeal promised, he's here at the town square of Sector 5 dressed in his Sunday's best. He's an uncommon sight around these parts, especially outside of the uniform. This evening he chose to forego the military fatigues for something a bit more stylish to prove he has good taste. While he's nowhere near as polished as the Turk, Angeal certainly makes a striking figure in a simple white button-down shirt, dark navy slacks, and sleek black dress shoes. He even has a matching blazer to boot but it's a bit warm for that. So he keeps the blazer slung over his shoulder as he leans against the lamppost. His hair is slicked back and brushed in its usual style but it might look a bit neater than usual.

Hell, Angeal even went as far as to shave and put on a dab of cologne. To say the least, he's dressed to kill.

On a side note, he's completely unarmed which is a bit of a rarity within itself but the soldier's body is his weapon. Even if something was to happen, Angeal can still crack open skulls despite being dressed up like a prom date.]

A second later and he'll be buying the drinks too.

[ He mutters to himself as he glances down at his phone. While Angeal doubts that the Turk would stand him up, Angeal can't help but wonder if he would. Genesis would probably scold him for attempting to date a colleague but technically, they're not colleagues. Techincally. ]

Edited 2020-05-09 06:47 (UTC)

[They most definitely were not colleagues. If they were then Angeal would know that Rude was never late. That was the thing about Turks. They were like the wizards in that one book series. They always arrived precisely when they meant to. Which meant that, in the ten seconds before 7:00:49 and 7:00:59, Rude turned a corner, striding over with all the calm self-possession of a man that knew he would not only be on time, but that there wouldn't be a complaint.

He stopped in front of Angeal at one second to 7:01. Meeting time achieved. Then he tilts his head and moved toward the restaurant in question. Because, of course, that was just his style.]

You shaved.

[An observation, and one that comes as he's looking the man over. Not bad. Not nearly as sharply dressed as Rude in his usual work suit, but with today's shirt and pocket cloth of green so dark as to almost be black. Then again, Rude had to be in suits every day. You learned to make them work.]

Unarmed?

[His tone spoke to a hint of surprise. He hadn't expected the Soldier, known for always carrying a blade he never used, to have nothing. Even Rude was armed, one of the compact Turk-issue bangles hidden up a sleeve, a gun at his ankle, and of course his gloves still on.]

If you get mugged, Genesis will quote at me endlessly.

[ The expression on Angeal's face was absolutely priceless. The Turks really do have this uncanny way of arriving just in the nick of time. Hell, their penchant for punctuality is borderline uncanny but Angeal can't help but appreciate it. Some of the Seconds could learn a thing or two in that regard, namely his pup.

Despite feeling quite confident in his choice of attire, Angeal can't help but feel slightly underdressed. What can he say? He's still a country boy who likes to keep it simple. Rude, however, is a triple fucking threat right now despite the shades. Rude is so cool. Ridiculously, so. The general census among the Firsts is that the Turks are an anomaly worthy of both praise and scorn thanks to their red-headed mascot, Reno, and some of their less than honorable deeds. While he's a little uncertain how this date will go, Angeal is at least glad there's some interest there between them. ]

Oh, you noticed.

[ He responds with a slight smirk. ]

That means you must've been keeping tabs on me before.

[ That's funny. He doesn't remember seeing Rude around headquarters too often. Geez! The Turks are really something else. Should he flattered or turned off? He's not even sure anymore but what catches his attention is Rude's next question. ]

Midgar isn't that bad. Besides, I still got my fists.

[ He states with a measure of confidence that is more than just arrogance on his part. Even though Angeal is known for carrying that enormous Buster Sword around, he rarely ever uses it. Why? Rust. So he says but that's not entirely the truth. Angeal is a lethal combatant with or without his sword. Who else can knock a mako-infused monster out cold with their bare fists? Even so, maybe Angeal should've brought something with him.

He lets out a light chuckle as he falls into step with Rude. ]

Though, we can't have Genesis spouting poetry at you all day. So, I'll play it safe.

Not sure your fists can keep up with needs.

[Rude has a brief moment to wonder why he never bothered sparring with the other man. After all, Angeal was probably one of the best hand-to-hand people in the company, and one of the few that could keep up with Rude. How interesting.

Rude walks them over to the restaurant otherwise silent, and then holds the door open once they get to it.]

Surprised you don't go out for food more often. That Genesis doesn't haul you off for dinner and a show.