Boxing... yeah, he can see that easily, and it helps explain how light he is on his feet along with that pile driver punch he packs. "Yeah, cauliflower ears are no one's friend." He grimaces and shifts the ice a little; uncomfortable as it is, it's definitely helping, though, so he leaves it. "And neither is permanent brain damage, so I'm just gonna cross my fingers and hope I haven't lost more brain cells than I can spare." He shrugs, and there's that bright smile back.
He knows what Dwayne means about presentation, he actually had managed to mostly pull off looking like he belonged in that suit trying to buy himself a sex slave, after all... not that he's particularly proud of that success. "Think I'd make a good ginger?" He ducks his head and raises both eyebrows. And, yes, he knows exactly how adorable he looks doing it, though it's more a look he perfected for getting cookies off sweet old neighbor ladies or conning teachers into not calling the father who wasn't going to be there to answer the phone anyway, not so much for charming hot older guys. But, hey, adaptability's a gift, right?
"The puppy just might make that work," he agrees as he makes his careful way to the bathroom. "Keep me from having to talk to anyone about anything but how cute it is." God knows he couldn't talk about college, he figures faking being a spoiled rich brat is a heck of a lot easier than trying to pretend he knows anything about college, given he never even graduated high school.
Maybe he'll be able to get a few tips while they're stuck together, even if Dwayne doesn't decide to let him in on his operation. Guy's gotta have more than a few tricks up his sleeve, after all. But for now he needs to wash up a bit and let Dwayne take care of business... and that last offer has him regretting that it's just a hotel bathroom, doubtless full of samples, because he wouldn't mind being maybe just a little creepy and checking out the guy's aftershave.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Nice as a shower sounds, it seems kind of pointless when he'll just have to put the same clothes back on... and he's not really sure he's up to anything that strenuous anyway. So he settles for stripping off his now slightly limp button down and the t-shirt under it and giving himself a quick wipe down. It feels good to get rid of a layer of sweat and slick his hair back from his face, and when the knock comes he turns off the water and scrubs a towel over his damp hair before settling the towel over his shoulders and swinging the door open.
Josh is bare to the waist in well-tailored slacks, his belt hanging open and a rumpled undershirt dangling from one hand while his damp hair drips onto the towel on his shoulders. He leans against the door frame for a moment and settles his ice pack back in place. "Long enough for the nap, still?" he asks, because dang he's feeling like he could use it now. Even the idea of struggling back into his t-shirt, which is pretty much the only comfortable article of clothing he has right now, other than his underwear, isn't particularly appealing.
no subject
He knows what Dwayne means about presentation, he actually had managed to mostly pull off looking like he belonged in that suit trying to buy himself a sex slave, after all... not that he's particularly proud of that success. "Think I'd make a good ginger?" He ducks his head and raises both eyebrows. And, yes, he knows exactly how adorable he looks doing it, though it's more a look he perfected for getting cookies off sweet old neighbor ladies or conning teachers into not calling the father who wasn't going to be there to answer the phone anyway, not so much for charming hot older guys. But, hey, adaptability's a gift, right?
"The puppy just might make that work," he agrees as he makes his careful way to the bathroom. "Keep me from having to talk to anyone about anything but how cute it is." God knows he couldn't talk about college, he figures faking being a spoiled rich brat is a heck of a lot easier than trying to pretend he knows anything about college, given he never even graduated high school.
Maybe he'll be able to get a few tips while they're stuck together, even if Dwayne doesn't decide to let him in on his operation. Guy's gotta have more than a few tricks up his sleeve, after all. But for now he needs to wash up a bit and let Dwayne take care of business... and that last offer has him regretting that it's just a hotel bathroom, doubtless full of samples, because he wouldn't mind being maybe just a little creepy and checking out the guy's aftershave.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Nice as a shower sounds, it seems kind of pointless when he'll just have to put the same clothes back on... and he's not really sure he's up to anything that strenuous anyway. So he settles for stripping off his now slightly limp button down and the t-shirt under it and giving himself a quick wipe down. It feels good to get rid of a layer of sweat and slick his hair back from his face, and when the knock comes he turns off the water and scrubs a towel over his damp hair before settling the towel over his shoulders and swinging the door open.
Josh is bare to the waist in well-tailored slacks, his belt hanging open and a rumpled undershirt dangling from one hand while his damp hair drips onto the towel on his shoulders. He leans against the door frame for a moment and settles his ice pack back in place. "Long enough for the nap, still?" he asks, because dang he's feeling like he could use it now. Even the idea of struggling back into his t-shirt, which is pretty much the only comfortable article of clothing he has right now, other than his underwear, isn't particularly appealing.