( From the beginning, there had always been something between them. Not some magnetic draw that made him long for her touch or the feel of her skin under his hands or whatever dollar store romance nonsense people bought into these days. Instead, it was thread of hostility, one built from sharp words, terrifying vivid dreams he could never find it in himself to forget, and a constant feeling that something was missing.
Still, spending day in and day out with a beautiful woman had been enough to dull some of the animosity Seth felt towards Kisa, even if it never took away the feeling that something was wrong. The facility they lived in, the men in their pristine white coats, plastic badges, and over-hyped medical degrees always dismissed that concern when he mentioned. The same way they dismissed when he asked why he'd been made with a tattoo along his arm or scars in various places. All they said, all they ever said was the same thing.
You and Kisa were made for each other.
That didn't mean they acted like it, though. No, in the suite they shared, the two of them kept a safe distance from one another more often than not. As the months trickled past, they'd started moving past barriers they'd put up in the beginning. They talked casually here and there, had never had an issue with nudity, recently started sleeping in the same bed, and when it came to the more emotional aspects of their relationship, they'd managed to get to the point where one of them would wake up in the middle of the night and the other would do the same. Offer some bit of concern or attempt to ease the other back to sleep. It was "progress".
After a long day of talking about that progress with one of those lab coat wearing lunatics, Seth was stretched out on his back across the bed. His legs dangled over the edge, one bare foot tapping the soft carpet as he stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. They'd asked a lot of questions, mostly about Kisa, about how they were progressing. And his answer was always the same. They were working on it. They'd probably always be working on it. )
They asked why we haven't started banging like rabbits yet. Again. ( Seth announced at the sound of Kisa moving elsewhere in the room, not bothering to sit up from where he was laid out.
It was a valid question, he knew. One he'd asked himself more than a few times, especially in the moments when he caught sight of her bare skin, felt the weight of the mattress dip beside him when they settled in for the night. Hell, most mornings he woke up with a raging hard on pointed right in her direction, and it took everything he had not to ask if she was interested. Most days, her usual demeanor said she wasn't. And honestly, Seth wasn't sure he could take that kind of rejection when they spent this much time together. )
They ask you any new and exciting questions or is it about time we came up with some excuse to satisfy inquiring minds? ( Finally, his head popped up from the mattress just enough to slide one arm behind it as the other one dropped across his abdomen lazily, plucking at the fabric of his tanktop. )
[ any con saying there's such a thing as "easy time" is full of shit. no two ways around it. there are ways of filling up some of the hours— jawing around with other inmates, learning something you didn't before. pumping iron. getting into fights. getting into trouble for getting into the fights. kp. laundry. picking up pebbles and seeing how many you can get through that one particular hole in the chainlink. but every minute of it's still thrummed through with the knowledge that it's killing time, that at the end of the day there's gonna be bars on the window where you're slammed into your cage, and ain't nothing changing that until something happens.
the nights are worst and seth still isn't used to them even now, but he gets prepared. loaded up his imagination with plenty from the outside to think of in the dark. whole conversations coming and going. old job blueprints with richie, old movies with eddie, older conversations with his old man where he gets to say all the shit he never got to before the house burned down. and — cause he's a red blooded american guy in his prime, thank you — he thinks of women. thinks of vanessa and her carrot cakes, of ex-girlfriends, of magazine pin-ups from his misspent youth.
that's where he figures she comes from at first. spanish had never been his favorite flavor, so to speak, but he's seen plenty of fine looking women round the border and she had to have been one of them. smooth skin, dark eyes, smoky voice, built like a dancer— he doesn't know where he knows her from, mind, but he's not about to file a complaint about it. not at first. but soon she's going from appreciative flashes to recurring dreams to being the only voice he hears, and not just at night. he'll catch her out the corner of his eye in the mess, watch her weave between heavies out int he yard, get whispers of spanish in his ear that make him whip his head around trying to find who's fucking with him.
( for all the years spent defending his brother, a creeping and gnawing dread wraps itself around his gut the longer it goes on. is he out to lose his marbles too? is this what going crazy feels like? )
eventually he gets word out to richie with a recently paroled acquaintance: get me the fuck out of here. he doesn't care how dangerous, he doesn't care how big, all that matters is finding a place this spectral senorita won't follow before he totally falls to pieces.
his brother's good as gold and better. barely a month after sending his s.o.s. there's an unexpected court date for seth, needing transport to a county courthouse for some bullshit paperwork or whatnot. richie manages it smooth and easy at a rest stop long the way, all on his goddamn own the little fucker, and seth can't help whoopin' and hollerin' when they peel out down the highway.
hundreds of miles away, they're stopped in some shitty roadside liquor store for snacks and a map and seth pops into the bathroom to splash water on his face. catching his reflection in the mirror, he frowns at the bags under his eyes, the way his suit hangs a little loose, but shakes his head. ]
Screwed on tight.
[ couple nights on the open road will perk him right back up. get him back on his feed. free me, she'd kept saying, over and over— well. thank lord almighty but he was now and especially of her. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thread tracking.
word association ( prescription, hunkydory, aluminumandash, crucifixes, parties )
sexting ( hunkydory )
voice test ( forgive, hunkydory )
word association ( hunkydory, forgive, ambassador, cruickshank )
tfln ( underachievement, forgive, hornrim )
fuck, marry, kill ( hunkydory )
drunk ( prescription )
word association ( ladron )
picture prompt ( forgive )
sexting ( hunkydory )
texts from last night ( fiveyearsdark )
word association ( juice_ellen )
road trip ( forgive )
what's your number ( forgive )
midnight texting ( hunkydory )
tbc.
here we go, finally!!
Still, spending day in and day out with a beautiful woman had been enough to dull some of the animosity Seth felt towards Kisa, even if it never took away the feeling that something was wrong. The facility they lived in, the men in their pristine white coats, plastic badges, and over-hyped medical degrees always dismissed that concern when he mentioned. The same way they dismissed when he asked why he'd been made with a tattoo along his arm or scars in various places. All they said, all they ever said was the same thing.
You and Kisa were made for each other.
That didn't mean they acted like it, though. No, in the suite they shared, the two of them kept a safe distance from one another more often than not. As the months trickled past, they'd started moving past barriers they'd put up in the beginning. They talked casually here and there, had never had an issue with nudity, recently started sleeping in the same bed, and when it came to the more emotional aspects of their relationship, they'd managed to get to the point where one of them would wake up in the middle of the night and the other would do the same. Offer some bit of concern or attempt to ease the other back to sleep. It was "progress".
After a long day of talking about that progress with one of those lab coat wearing lunatics, Seth was stretched out on his back across the bed. His legs dangled over the edge, one bare foot tapping the soft carpet as he stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. They'd asked a lot of questions, mostly about Kisa, about how they were progressing. And his answer was always the same. They were working on it. They'd probably always be working on it. )
They asked why we haven't started banging like rabbits yet. Again. ( Seth announced at the sound of Kisa moving elsewhere in the room, not bothering to sit up from where he was laid out.
It was a valid question, he knew. One he'd asked himself more than a few times, especially in the moments when he caught sight of her bare skin, felt the weight of the mattress dip beside him when they settled in for the night. Hell, most mornings he woke up with a raging hard on pointed right in her direction, and it took everything he had not to ask if she was interested. Most days, her usual demeanor said she wasn't. And honestly, Seth wasn't sure he could take that kind of rejection when they spent this much time together. )
They ask you any new and exciting questions or is it about time we came up with some excuse to satisfy inquiring minds? ( Finally, his head popped up from the mattress just enough to slide one arm behind it as the other one dropped across his abdomen lazily, plucking at the fabric of his tanktop. )
worth the wait!
surprise
have i ever told you you're my favorite?
flattery will get you everywhere tbh but it's v mutual
i'm glad to hear it ♥
no subject
the nights are worst and seth still isn't used to them even now, but he gets prepared. loaded up his imagination with plenty from the outside to think of in the dark. whole conversations coming and going. old job blueprints with richie, old movies with eddie, older conversations with his old man where he gets to say all the shit he never got to before the house burned down. and — cause he's a red blooded american guy in his prime, thank you — he thinks of women. thinks of vanessa and her carrot cakes, of ex-girlfriends, of magazine pin-ups from his misspent youth.
that's where he figures she comes from at first. spanish had never been his favorite flavor, so to speak, but he's seen plenty of fine looking women round the border and she had to have been one of them. smooth skin, dark eyes, smoky voice, built like a dancer— he doesn't know where he knows her from, mind, but he's not about to file a complaint about it. not at first. but soon she's going from appreciative flashes to recurring dreams to being the only voice he hears, and not just at night. he'll catch her out the corner of his eye in the mess, watch her weave between heavies out int he yard, get whispers of spanish in his ear that make him whip his head around trying to find who's fucking with him.
( for all the years spent defending his brother, a creeping and gnawing dread wraps itself around his gut the longer it goes on. is he out to lose his marbles too? is this what going crazy feels like? )
eventually he gets word out to richie with a recently paroled acquaintance: get me the fuck out of here. he doesn't care how dangerous, he doesn't care how big, all that matters is finding a place this spectral senorita won't follow before he totally falls to pieces.
his brother's good as gold and better. barely a month after sending his s.o.s. there's an unexpected court date for seth, needing transport to a county courthouse for some bullshit paperwork or whatnot. richie manages it smooth and easy at a rest stop long the way, all on his goddamn own the little fucker, and seth can't help whoopin' and hollerin' when they peel out down the highway.
hundreds of miles away, they're stopped in some shitty roadside liquor store for snacks and a map and seth pops into the bathroom to splash water on his face. catching his reflection in the mirror, he frowns at the bags under his eyes, the way his suit hangs a little loose, but shakes his head. ]
Screwed on tight.
[ couple nights on the open road will perk him right back up. get him back on his feed. free me, she'd kept saying, over and over— well. thank lord almighty but he was now and especially of her. ]