[ for a moment, david just registers lips against his. it surprises him enough that he definitely shuts up, but also he instinctively leans up into it. kisses evan back, moves his free hand to his hip. ]
[ and then ice shoots up his spine, that same discomfort from before settling in his gut as a cold, overwhelming panic. he doesn't pull away, nor move his hands, frozen where he is in wide-eyed fear. ]
[ it's bad enough that he did this in the first place. but then david responds. not by punching him, not by trying to rip his throat out - by reaching up, responding.
evan reacts at the same time david freezes. jerks back, hard enough to tear his shirt if david keeps a hard enough grip, not caring if he drags david with him or not. he stumbles back and hits the floor on his ass, the instant dread and terror just as clear on his face as on david's.
partly for what he did. partly for how david reacted. and partly for the part of him, crushed and broken but apparently still there, that wanted to stay where he was. ]
[ it takes david a moment to even react to the way evan falls back, even with the way it pulls him with, jerks him forward halfway off the couch. his reflexes might not be the best right now, but they're enough that he puts a hand down on the couch cushions to stop himself just falling forward on his face. ]
[ david sits there still for a moment, two moments. it feels like ages that he just sits silently before he clears his throat. the fear doesn't go anywhere, but david swallows it, tries to force himself to move on. tries to ignore the panic and the way it makes him think of his fucking mother or how part of him is disappointed at the way evan pulled away. wishes he was still-- ]
[ he clears his throat again, pushes a hand through his hair. ]
I, uh--
[ he looks around, focuses on a spot on the wall. is his breathing heavier? david swallows, lost for words. there's a joke there, but he can't make it come out. can't make anything come out of his mouth. ]
[ the fact that he's still not getting his shit kicked in is making things worse. at least, that's what he thinks. he can't - david's looking awkward, shocked and just about as scared as he is, even if it's rapidly being pulled back under a veneer of something else. it's almost sobering, and it's enough to make evan's wildly malfunctioning brain come to rapid conclusions.
if there's no violence he's not angry. if he's not angry then he's not insulted, offended, pissed off by what happened. if he's none of that, if he reached up and leaned further in, then -
insults pile up in evan's brain but don't come out. he's drunk enough to say them but also aware enough to know that he's on the floor, not wildly swinging or angry or violent himself, for a reason.
there's no fucking way. not with david fucking king involved. ]
Forget it. I didn't -
[ mean to? no he fucking did not. but he did it anyway. ]
Only ever see you with women.
[ as if this would something either one of them would flaunt. there's one of those secrets he thought david couldn't keep. guess he was wrong. ]
[ only ever see you with women makes the panic surge again, freshly gripping at his throat. of all the people in the world, evan can't be the one who figured him out, not this asshole. not evan macmillan, being the one who makes him break after all these years. ]
[ he should leave. it's what he wants to do, get up and go and pretend this never happened, but his legs feel like dead weight and evan's talking and david can feel his pulse in his throat. ]
... Yeah well. Never see you with anyone, doesn't mean I think you've only got time for Rosy Palms there.
[ it's defensive, no real bite, especially not for david. an animal puffing up and growling to ward off a bigger threat. if he were sober, or half as drunk as he is right now, maybe he'd realise there's no real danger here because who the fuck is evan going to tell? and how the hell would he prove it? but to his addled mind he looks down at evan and doesn't see the mirrored surprise and panic. he sees evan with a sledgehammer, standing dangerously close to the foundations of everything he's built himself up to be. ]
[ evan, in turn, recognizes the fear but doesn't realize what a threat david sees him as. all he can tell is that david knows, now, that he took the opportunity to kiss him. that he knows. that he knows evan did it, barely prompted. there were so many other ways to shut him up and he took the worst, most damning one.
after a few cold, empty seconds - way too many - evan laughs. it's not a real laugh, as usual, but there's something hollow and disbelieving to this one. ]
Shit. Jesus Christ. You and me, we're -
[ he can't even say it. he doesn't even know what he's going to say. other than idiots. he's hated david almost his entire life and now it turns out they're basically the same person. not just their father's weapons, not just chafing under the weight of being expected to be perfect, not just hatred and violence made flesh.
[ that cuts through a little, stuns david out of the panic and throws him headlong into confusion. angry for a moment because he assumes evan's laughing at him, but he saw that panic on evan's face. to say nothing of the fact he's still on the floor on his ass. ]
What?
[ angry, but confused nore than that. has evan drank too much? ]
[ he's not so drunk that he doesn't realize his mistake, but he is worn out enough to not care as much as he should. ]
You ain't the only one keeping secrets.
[ he stays down. stares at the gin where david dropped it, enough of it gone that it's not spilling. david might have hid it by going out with as many girls as he could get his hands on, and evan hid it by not going out with anyone except occasionally letting someone see him with a woman and being too busy for anything else, but now he realizes at the end of the day they were both hiding something.
it's not that he doesn't like women, and that made it easier to deal with. but it was always there. that other thing. that other desire.
he's not sure he's ever been more miserable in a moment in his entire life. ]
[ it takes a second for evan's meaning to make it through about seventeen layers of embarrassment, fear, exhaustion, and alcohol, but it gets there. it's obvious when it does, his eyebrows raising and his mouth opening in a silent "oh." ]
Fuckin' hell.
[ he still feels a need to run, to get out of here, pretend this never happened, but. well, he's a little surprised to hear evan has the same fucking secret. never would've guessed it's something he or his father would even care about, but of course it is. ]
[ god he really wishes he'd never invited this asshole for that drink. ]
[ the surprise is irritating, but he should really be grateful for it. ]
What, me tryin' to shut you up like that didn't tip you off?
[ he's not impulsive normally, so why was that his first act? why didn't he give it five seconds of thought? literally five and he would have punched david out because while he might have thought about kissing him, he would have had enough time to realize how stupid that was. and then they'd be on the floor, fighting each other again.
instead he's the one on the floor, trying to cope with the feeling of something hollow in his gut. as if his world's about to collapse in on itself. ]</small.
Doesn't mean it was, y'know-- [ he gestures uselessly at evan. ] Secret.
[ and now here they are. david pushes a hand through his hair, scratches his head, frowning. at least he doesn't have to worry about evan telling anyone, he supposes. ]
[ part irritation, part panic, part offense. what, is there something about him that says it? did david already guess? or is this just some way of dismissing it all, of making this - less of a problem for evan?
or maybe they're both still drunk. ]
My ass'd be six feet under if anyone even got wind of something like that.
[ david huffs, leans forward with his elbows on his knees. sure he never would've guessed, but david generally can't tell unless some guy's got his tongue down another guy's throat. kind of an enforced blind spot; if he doesn't see it, he doesn't need to worry about it. ]
Not like I ever sat down and went, yeah, the MacMillan's are arseholes, but how do they feel about queers?
[ he's not sure there's ever been a question less on his mind than who's evan fucking? except maybe to make fun of him, the odd time he's seen him with a woman somewhere. ]
[ evan finally manages to force himself to glare at david again, as if somehow looking at him will make this real instead of the nightmare he's been trying to convince himself this whole night has been so far. ]
Never thought that about your family either, but you're hiding it for a reason, right?
[ they should leave. part ways, pretend this never happened. he can sleep things off here, david can stumble home, they can go back to how things were. both of them are great at pretending things aren't as godawful as they really are, right? he can do it. he's done it for years. ]
[ he'd probably get off lighter than evan would, if only because as much as the violence has been ever present, david has rarely if ever felt that his life was under threat from his parents. usually the threat is being disowned some way, going through the rest of his life knowing he was an embarrassment and a disgrace. ]
[ (so what's the difference--) ]
Least I don't need to worry about you keepin' quiet.
[ it's a halfway attempt at a joke, but it's not not on his mind. he gave up on sleeping with any men at all a long time ago for pretty much the same reason. ]
[ that gets david a harder glare, mostly because it's true. ]
Same.
[ because if it gets out because of david, he'll have about two hours to get revenge before he's dead. and he will. he's sure of it.
which leaves them at a stalemate. both of them, drunk and fucked up and exhausted, in his apartment, with a metaphorical gun to each other's heads. what now? what the fuck do they do now? ]
You -
[ even partly drunk as he is, he manages to strangle the words before they get too far. some things even he can't quite bring himself to say. ]
[ david's not used to being this thrown off. he's usually fast with a retort, maybe it's a silly thing to be proud of but he's quick and he's sharp, but right now he feels so out of his depth. ]
[ which isn't helped by evan pointing out that he kissed him back, and david gets visibly flustered for a second. in all the mess he'd hoped evan hadn't noticed, or at least that he forgot. but of course he wouldn't get that lucky. ]
... I'm drunk. Same reason you went for it.
[ that's all. just two drunk idiots. happens all the time. ]
[ that's all. both of them drunk and acting on stupid thoughts. stupid desires.
it still leaves him with no idea what to do next. their best bet: try to forget it happened. but, again, he's got the feeling that's not going to work.
he's silent for a while, staring at nothing, wishing they'd fought harder the first time around so they could both be hospitalized and this never would have happened. ]
I should - we should both get back.
[ one at a time. not together, like they came here. if someone was watching them, and they leave separately, they might be able to use the excuse of david visiting someone else. as if anyone will believe that. how about just getting more drunk? together? why not? people saw them doing it before. ]
[ what's more mortifying: going home, or staying here? he doesn't entirely wantto leave, and david can't tell if that simply because he doesn't want to face going home or if this whole situation is doing something to his head. if he's just a dumbass hanging on something that he never would've thought about a couple of hours ago. ]
[ he pushes himself up to stand, awkward when he fixes his shirt and clears his throat. ]
[ evan stays where he is another five seconds before realizing he's on the floor and david's on his feet. he shoves himself up, ignoring the aches, the pains, the parts of him that want to rebel and stay right where he is for various reasons. ]
Yeah. There's a back door to the street. Ain't locked.
[ even though it should be. evan waits until david's at the door before he picks up the gin and heads into the kitchen, for once not watching david go as if he's concerned he'll do something stupid or dangerous. what else could he do now? neither one of them wants to be here.
he waits until the door shuts before tipping the gin out into the sink. the smell of it's going to remind him of this for the rest of his life, he knows. and he's going to hate himself every time it does. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hardlydead) wrote2024-05-20 10:36 pm
no subject
[ for a moment, david just registers lips against his. it surprises him enough that he definitely shuts up, but also he instinctively leans up into it. kisses evan back, moves his free hand to his hip. ]
[ and then ice shoots up his spine, that same discomfort from before settling in his gut as a cold, overwhelming panic. he doesn't pull away, nor move his hands, frozen where he is in wide-eyed fear. ]
no subject
evan reacts at the same time david freezes. jerks back, hard enough to tear his shirt if david keeps a hard enough grip, not caring if he drags david with him or not. he stumbles back and hits the floor on his ass, the instant dread and terror just as clear on his face as on david's.
partly for what he did. partly for how david reacted. and partly for the part of him, crushed and broken but apparently still there, that wanted to stay where he was. ]
no subject
[ david sits there still for a moment, two moments. it feels like ages that he just sits silently before he clears his throat. the fear doesn't go anywhere, but david swallows it, tries to force himself to move on. tries to ignore the panic and the way it makes him think of his fucking mother or how part of him is disappointed at the way evan pulled away. wishes he was still-- ]
[ he clears his throat again, pushes a hand through his hair. ]
I, uh--
[ he looks around, focuses on a spot on the wall. is his breathing heavier? david swallows, lost for words. there's a joke there, but he can't make it come out. can't make anything come out of his mouth. ]
no subject
if there's no violence he's not angry. if he's not angry then he's not insulted, offended, pissed off by what happened. if he's none of that, if he reached up and leaned further in, then -
insults pile up in evan's brain but don't come out. he's drunk enough to say them but also aware enough to know that he's on the floor, not wildly swinging or angry or violent himself, for a reason.
there's no fucking way. not with david fucking king involved. ]
Forget it. I didn't -
[ mean to? no he fucking did not. but he did it anyway. ]
Only ever see you with women.
[ as if this would something either one of them would flaunt. there's one of those secrets he thought david couldn't keep. guess he was wrong. ]
no subject
[ he should leave. it's what he wants to do, get up and go and pretend this never happened, but his legs feel like dead weight and evan's talking and david can feel his pulse in his throat. ]
... Yeah well. Never see you with anyone, doesn't mean I think you've only got time for Rosy Palms there.
[ it's defensive, no real bite, especially not for david. an animal puffing up and growling to ward off a bigger threat. if he were sober, or half as drunk as he is right now, maybe he'd realise there's no real danger here because who the fuck is evan going to tell? and how the hell would he prove it? but to his addled mind he looks down at evan and doesn't see the mirrored surprise and panic. he sees evan with a sledgehammer, standing dangerously close to the foundations of everything he's built himself up to be. ]
no subject
after a few cold, empty seconds - way too many - evan laughs. it's not a real laugh, as usual, but there's something hollow and disbelieving to this one. ]
Shit. Jesus Christ. You and me, we're -
[ he can't even say it. he doesn't even know what he's going to say. other than idiots. he's hated david almost his entire life and now it turns out they're basically the same person. not just their father's weapons, not just chafing under the weight of being expected to be perfect, not just hatred and violence made flesh.
they've both got a secret. the same secret. ]
no subject
What?
[ angry, but confused nore than that. has evan drank too much? ]
no subject
You ain't the only one keeping secrets.
[ he stays down. stares at the gin where david dropped it, enough of it gone that it's not spilling. david might have hid it by going out with as many girls as he could get his hands on, and evan hid it by not going out with anyone except occasionally letting someone see him with a woman and being too busy for anything else, but now he realizes at the end of the day they were both hiding something.
it's not that he doesn't like women, and that made it easier to deal with. but it was always there. that other thing. that other desire.
he's not sure he's ever been more miserable in a moment in his entire life. ]
no subject
Fuckin' hell.
[ he still feels a need to run, to get out of here, pretend this never happened, but. well, he's a little surprised to hear evan has the same fucking secret. never would've guessed it's something he or his father would even care about, but of course it is. ]
[ god he really wishes he'd never invited this asshole for that drink. ]
no subject
What, me tryin' to shut you up like that didn't tip you off?
[ he's not impulsive normally, so why was that his first act? why didn't he give it five seconds of thought? literally five and he would have punched david out because while he might have thought about kissing him, he would have had enough time to realize how stupid that was. and then they'd be on the floor, fighting each other again.
instead he's the one on the floor, trying to cope with the feeling of something hollow in his gut. as if his world's about to collapse in on itself. ]</small.
no subject
[ and now here they are. david pushes a hand through his hair, scratches his head, frowning. at least he doesn't have to worry about evan telling anyone, he supposes. ]
no subject
[ part irritation, part panic, part offense. what, is there something about him that says it? did david already guess? or is this just some way of dismissing it all, of making this - less of a problem for evan?
or maybe they're both still drunk. ]
My ass'd be six feet under if anyone even got wind of something like that.
no subject
[ david huffs, leans forward with his elbows on his knees. sure he never would've guessed, but david generally can't tell unless some guy's got his tongue down another guy's throat. kind of an enforced blind spot; if he doesn't see it, he doesn't need to worry about it. ]
Not like I ever sat down and went, yeah, the MacMillan's are arseholes, but how do they feel about queers?
[ he's not sure there's ever been a question less on his mind than who's evan fucking? except maybe to make fun of him, the odd time he's seen him with a woman somewhere. ]
no subject
Never thought that about your family either, but you're hiding it for a reason, right?
[ they should leave. part ways, pretend this never happened. he can sleep things off here, david can stumble home, they can go back to how things were. both of them are great at pretending things aren't as godawful as they really are, right? he can do it. he's done it for years. ]
no subject
[ he'd probably get off lighter than evan would, if only because as much as the violence has been ever present, david has rarely if ever felt that his life was under threat from his parents. usually the threat is being disowned some way, going through the rest of his life knowing he was an embarrassment and a disgrace. ]
[ (so what's the difference--) ]
Least I don't need to worry about you keepin' quiet.
[ it's a halfway attempt at a joke, but it's not not on his mind. he gave up on sleeping with any men at all a long time ago for pretty much the same reason. ]
no subject
Same.
[ because if it gets out because of david, he'll have about two hours to get revenge before he's dead. and he will. he's sure of it.
which leaves them at a stalemate. both of them, drunk and fucked up and exhausted, in his apartment, with a metaphorical gun to each other's heads. what now? what the fuck do they do now? ]
You -
[ even partly drunk as he is, he manages to strangle the words before they get too far. some things even he can't quite bring himself to say. ]
You returned it. Even though you hate my ass.
no subject
[ which isn't helped by evan pointing out that he kissed him back, and david gets visibly flustered for a second. in all the mess he'd hoped evan hadn't noticed, or at least that he forgot. but of course he wouldn't get that lucky. ]
... I'm drunk. Same reason you went for it.
[ that's all. just two drunk idiots. happens all the time. ]
no subject
it still leaves him with no idea what to do next. their best bet: try to forget it happened. but, again, he's got the feeling that's not going to work.
he's silent for a while, staring at nothing, wishing they'd fought harder the first time around so they could both be hospitalized and this never would have happened. ]
I should - we should both get back.
[ one at a time. not together, like they came here. if someone was watching them, and they leave separately, they might be able to use the excuse of david visiting someone else. as if anyone will believe that. how about just getting more drunk? together? why not? people saw them doing it before. ]
no subject
[ what's more mortifying: going home, or staying here? he doesn't entirely wantto leave, and david can't tell if that simply because he doesn't want to face going home or if this whole situation is doing something to his head. if he's just a dumbass hanging on something that he never would've thought about a couple of hours ago. ]
[ he pushes himself up to stand, awkward when he fixes his shirt and clears his throat. ]
Let me, uh-- I'll get the fuck outta here.
no subject
Yeah. There's a back door to the street. Ain't locked.
[ even though it should be. evan waits until david's at the door before he picks up the gin and heads into the kitchen, for once not watching david go as if he's concerned he'll do something stupid or dangerous. what else could he do now? neither one of them wants to be here.
he waits until the door shuts before tipping the gin out into the sink. the smell of it's going to remind him of this for the rest of his life, he knows. and he's going to hate himself every time it does. ]