Bodyslam

Cattle Mutilation

A/N: Another chapter with some jargony, technical stuff. Gifs & images to illustrate the moves will be at the end!

"You look extra nice today. Did you get a haircut or something? New moisturizer?"

Surprised, Mitch looks down at himself. He'd thrown on jeans and a random band tee as he ran out the door this morning, perilously close to being late, only barely remembering to brush his hair again. "Do I? No, I haven't done anything different. But, thanks?"

Kirstin nods thoughtfully at him. "Hm. Wonder what it is, then. Is this a mimosa brunch or a fourteen cup of coffee situation?"

"Coffee, definitely. And, not to be rude, but we should go ahead and order and then you need to tell me all about Oregon. I have some things to take care of so I can't stay all afternoon."

"Sweetie," Kit fixes him with a look that he knows only precedes a lecture. She's one of the few people who can actually get away with lecturing him. "Again? I haven't seen you for weeks and we missed our last few brunches before that because you had stuff to do. You work too fucking much. When do you ever let yourself just relax?"

He almost chokes on his ice water, suddenly desperate to catch their server's eye so he can order some food instead of saying something he shouldn't.

She's watching him, lips pursed, once the server leaves to get their coffee. He can't quite read her expression and it's unnerving. "So," Mitch prompts into the silence. "Oregon?"

There's a beat more of silence and her eyebrow twitches. "Oregon was pretty fucking great. Nice group. They're a little rough but I'd say we'll be hearing a lot more about 'em in a year. I've got a few names to go over with you and Kev at some point in case we need to bring in some extra bodies."

"And we probably will. What about, y'know, the main reason they had you come up?"

"Honestly? I didn't need to be there for so long, but that's what they were paying for, so," she shrugs, rolling her eyes. "It took a few days to get management on board with training and booking workers, not genitals. Pretty sure I was gonna start yelling if I heard but what about... one more time. Once they got that through their thick skulls I pretty much just spent the rest of the time reminding them that boobs don't preclude someone from having a great match and also drinking a lot."

They go back and forth with specifics and enough carny-speak to likely make the people at the nearest table nervous, and the conversation pauses as their food is brought out. Once everything is situated Kit goes back to watching him with that same unreadable expression.

It's weird.

"So," she finally says, brow arched. "Tell me about him."

Mitch looks up, fork halfway to his mouth. "What'dya mean?"

Her eyebrow lifts even higher.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled egg when she doesn't elaborate.

Her gaze lowers slightly, pointedly, before returning to his face. "You have a very fresh hickey on your neck there. Like, so fresh I've been watching it change color while we're sitting here which means you were up to something this morning."

His hand reaches to his neck to block her view without conscious thought. Fuck. He forgot about that.

"And," she continues, probably a bit too loudly. "I needed a cigarette after watching the two of you eyefuck each other at practice yesterday so don't play dumb, Mitchell. Tell me about him."