[ the response is almost a disappointment. what was he expecting? anger? a punch? it doesn't matter now. they can argue about it later. right now he's trying to keep his focus as david tugs him in a little closer and manages to get his hand around evan. and himself.
it's a new sensation, one evan's not sure he wants to think about for more than a few seconds. but it's not bad, either. a little uncertainly, he shifts his hand to try and do the same, even if the grip is awkward. it's - different. not what he was expecting. not that he knew what the hell he was expecting other than david back on his knees, which some part of him thinks is going to be a one-time thing.
he shuts his eyes and focuses his attention back on david's shoulder, which is about as easy to hide as the collarbone. part of him wants to lay a mark on his neck, but that's too dangerous, and he knows it. his other hand is flat on david's chest, half supporting, half feeling. just getting everything he can out of this. ]
[ he can't tell if he's imagining it or not, the slight lack of confidence from evan. he keeps forgetting evan probably doesn't have any experience with other men — he's never said it, but david can't imagine he would've ever been willing to risk getting found out, no matter how desperate he got. but that's... fine. david wouldn't really choose to be anyone's first guy if he could help it, but they're here now, and he has no problem taking the lead. ]
[ this is simple enough anyway. david keeps his grip on evan's hip, bites the inside of his cheek when he starts to rock his hips up into their hands to try and stay focused. the slide of his cock against evan's is, right now, fucking perfect, and david shudders out a heavy breath, but he's more interested right now in evan's reaction. in what noise he makes, however quiet, or how his body responds. ]
[ whatever focus he has on david's shoulder, it shorts out as david moves. he bites down less out of intent and more out of instinct as the feeling of that friction rips through him, and it's only because of the bite that he manages to avoid making some critically embarrassing noise. he can't stop the hard breath, though, or the way he shudders, because for all his attempt to believe that this isn't much different from being with a woman, it is. it's way different.
he manages to avoid drawing blood, at least, and pulls his head back just far enough so that he's not tempted to do it again. the mark looks decent against david's skin, at least, and for a second he almost smirks except david rocks again and it makes everything in his brain go hazy again.
it's hard not to do the same and thrust hard against david, in both their hands, but he manages to hold himself in check aside from a brief, sharp attempt. he also manages to keep his voice down to a groan. that takes less effort, but the further this goes, the harder that'll be. ]
[ that is far more satisfying than it has any right to be, even with the bite that makes david flinch and curse sharply because it's a lot harder than anything evan's done so far. he must look a state. ]
[ david tilts his head just enough to look at evan, at the look on his face when he looks down at david's shoulder and the way it changes when david rocks up into their hands, and that's something he knows instantly is going to stick with him for a long time after this. along with that sharp movement from evan-- it might not be much, but it's enough that it surprises david into another breathy curse and a low groan. ]
[ he starts to find a rhythm with his hips, if he can call it that, the hand at evan's hip travelling up his side, to his chest. absolutely shameless about grabbing a handful this time, because why even bother to try and be restrained about this kind of thing when you literally have someone's dick in your hand. ]
[ whether it's because it's with a man or with david specifically or because he's right on the edge of releasing all the repression he's dealt with for half his fucking life, everything seems so much more to evan than it normally is. it'd border on overwhelming if he let it, he knows. he has to keep some edge of control.
the pace, rhythm, whatever they get together has another shudder run through him, but he doesn't make a serious sound. not yet. he breathes out steadily against david's skin and tries to move his hand a little, tries to do more than just let the friction and movement drag him out of his own skin and into the moment. it helps some. probably.
he doesn't even argue david's hand on his chest, feeling and grabbing and holding on in a way that seems greedier than just wanting to hold on. that's fine for now. fine the same way he digs his fingers into david's own chest and tries not to bite him again, even if he didn't get a bad response to the first one. ]
[ david arches under evan, shudders out a moan with the way evan moves his hand — it's not a lot, but it's something on top of what's already a ridiculously intense feeling. if whatever he murmurs sounds oddly like praise in the moment, nobody worry about it. he's already forgotten it. ]
[ he gives evan's chest another greedy squeeze, and then he scrapes his nails down his front, to his side. if they had the space he'd try to turn them over, put his weight into this, but there's no way he can manage that here, especially not without getting punched in the face. at best he'd just throw them both on the floor. ]
[ that's fine. he watches evan, takes in the faces he makes and how it's like nothing he's seen on him before. he wants more of that. wants to see what other ones he can get out of him. has to fight the urge to reach out and touch him while he's at it, fingers digging in harder where they are at evan's waist. ]
[ if he had any idea that david was watching him that intently, he'd put a lot more effort into being controlled. as it is, he thinks having his forehead pressed nearly to david's shoulder hides the most of it, and doesn't try to look at david to confirm anything. because that'd ruin this for him. realizing exactly what he's doing, and who he's doing it with.
he can ignore all that right now and try to breathe evenly even as things get harder and harder to control. he manages to just about strangle a thin moan, his fingers unsteady under david's, feeling like he's ready to lose himself to this completely. but he can't. he can't be the first one to give in. no fucking way.
there's enough concentration there that when david's fingers dig in harder he leans in a little further, hips pushing forward against the rhythm, making them drag against each other and that almost undoes him right there. the resultant surge comes out as one choked, desperate curse: ]
[ david's similarly determined, refusing to go first out of pure determination at this point. partially because it's evan and fuck anything that could even be spun as a loss, but after watching him this much, david wants to see what he looks like when he does give in. obscured as his face is, david can see enough to be worth it. ]
[ and then evan moves unexpectedly and that almost pushes david over on the spot. his head falling back against the couch with a shaky, breathless moan. barely conscious enough of who he's with to bite back about a million things he'd say to just about anyone else. but even with all this, david has the sense to know if he slipped and accidentally called evan 'baby' it'd probably end up with him choked to death on this couch. ]
C'mon-- almost.
[ it comes out rough, just as desperate. fingers digging in hard enough to leave little bruises in the shape of his fingertips over the curve of evan's hip as he rocks up into their hands. at this point unsure if he's chasing his own end or trying to push it out of evan. probably both. ]
[ wasn't he the one that wanted to leave bruises? it's probably mutual. he can feel the pressure on his hip and it doesn't help things at all. or maybe that's all it does. he pushes hard into david's hand again, into his own hand, the control over his movements slipping as the desperation creeps up on him.
there's no concerns. no thoughts of being overheard or seen. no fear of being found out, not right now. not when he's got this. not when he can hear david doing things, saying things, he'd never expected to hear, except maybe as a nasty joke.
unfortunately, as much experience as he has with women, david's something new. so evan doesn't outlast him. for a few seconds he doesn't want to. the noise he makes when he comes, caught between david and himself, is probably the most frustratingly embarrassing sound he's ever made in david's presence, and maybe anyone's. not a cry, not a moan, but something caught between those and a gasp that turns into a shuddered breath.
that he comes all over david's chest doesn't occur to him right away, but it'll be something to gloat over later. if he ever gets past the what the fuck did i just do aspect of this, anyway. ]
[ it doesn't take david long to follow after him, chasing every last sensation, desperate to commit to memory the urgent way evan moves against him and the noise he makes when he comes. and when david comes shortly after it's messily, with short, breathy groans. ]
[ it comes with a rush of feelings that are familiar, even if it's been a long time now. the guilt and shame and fear dancing at the edges of the warmth and high. he hasn't missed that part of it. david carefully takes his hand from around them, wipes it off on his stomach and lets it fall to his side. the other stays at evan's hip, grip loosening considerably. ]
[ he lets his eyes fall closed while he catches his breath, just to try and enjoy this feeling for a minute before all the other shit comes crashing in. ]
[ when evan finally manages to catch his breath and figure out where he is, there's a few long seconds of outright mortification. he's almost shirtless, his pants below his ass, his dick in his hand and another guy's dick in his hand, almost collapsed on top of that other guy, in his shitty rarely-used apartment. and he feels so totally burned out he can't even push himself off. that that guy is david king is less of a problem in this exact moment, but it's still a problem.
the biggest issue, though, is that he doesn't quite want to move yet. it's painful and awkward like this, but there's a sense of satisfaction running through him that makes him shiver. it was - unexpected. really fucking good, for what little it was.
and then the dread washes up on top of him, like a hand settling on his shoulder, ready to steer him straight into a bottomless pit. but nobody watches this apartment anymore. it's too far out of the way.
he pulls back - not off completely, but away, letting go of david, trying to pull his pants back up and put himself together again. his hands shake just slightly in the process, and that makes him angry at the same time that he's embarrassed. he can't figure out anything to say, so he doesn't say anything. it's always been easier like that. ]
[ the second evan starts to move, it jolts david into full awareness. he abruptly moves under evan, shifting back just enough that he has the space to tuck himself back in his underwear and pull his zipper up. ]
[ he lays there, quiet, trying to process that this happened. that he came out here with the express purpose of hooking up with evan macmillan, and that it was good. it doesn't even especially bother him still having evan's weight on him — it's kind of nice? ]
[ david tilts his head, fighting both the part of himself that always yearns for something more, and the crushing dark that makes him want to shove evan off and retreat as quickly as possible. stops himself reaching out for some point of contact and just tries to... settle. wait until evan's ready to move. ]
[ the bites ache a little, and he's already sore from the way they were ... sitting? lying? whatever that was. little physical things that wouldn't bother him under any other circumstance. now, they're reminders of what he just did, and some of them are going to stick around.
he doesn't quite look at david as he slips off, gripping the arm of the couch to keep himself up. his shirt's open. need to do that up. as he does so: ]
Bathroom's through the bedroom.
[ the only other door in the place leads to both. he figures david's going to want to clean off. the urge to gloat or mock him over being the one with all the evidence on his chest and stomach is there, but it's so small and insignificant he barely even realizes it. he could, but david knows exactly how involved in that he was.
and the whole time, he knows this was all his own fault. he started it. all of it. the only thing david did of his own volition was blow him a month or two back. everything else, evan started. ]
[ david nods and pushes himself up off the couch, looks down at himself with a grimace at all the mess but at least there's nwone on his pants. he sighs and wanders through to the bathroom, not even casting a glance as he passes through the bedroom to get there since he figures it's just more of the same basic, unused stuff. plus he wants to get a good look at what evan did to him. ]
[ which is... a lot. sure he felt it, can still feel it, but david almost laughs when he looks in the mirror and sees all the little red marks across his collarbone and shoulder and chest. it almost looks like he had a rough time at paintball or some shit. ]
[ at least washing up is quick. he's not gonna root around to see what evan has, just uses his hands and whatever handwash is there. it's gross and unpleasant, but it's easy. quick as it is though, david just stands there a little while, staring at his reflection. the panic and shame finally starting to seep through now that he's not occupied, a million hateful words slipping through his mind like they're being whispered in his ear. ]
[ he wants to rip the sink out of the wall and throw it through the mirror, he wants to punch a hole through the door. what the fuck was he thinking? it's not like evan's even remotely close to the first man who's expressed any interest in him over the years, so why is this what makes him break? someone he can barely fucking stand at the best of times? ]
[ he's so fucked. they're both so fucking fucked. ]
[ can't see any towels in the bathroom, so david comes out eventually, body still wet from washing. not that david seems to mind it. there's a halfway vacant look on his face as he steps back into the living room, doing up his pants and belt and looks for where his shirt ended up to put that back on. ]
[ by the time david gets back, evan's done his shirt back up, pulled his jacket on but left that open, and picked up david's clothes to fold them over the arm of the couch. he himself is back in the kitchen, but not really doing anything. there's alcohol in the cupboards - the same stuff they brought over before, whatever didn't get taken when david left - but he doesn't want to drink it.
there's a sore spot on his collarbone, where david returned the favors he doled out. from this distance he can see the red marks that'll darken. whatever little twinge of satisfaction he feels in seeing them is overwhelmed by the idea of what'll happen if david, who takes his shirt off more often than normal people, gets questioned about who left them.
he'll lie, obviously. and probably nobody's going to care enough to question further. but someone might. evan can at least know that nobody's going to see what was left on him.
he doesn't really know what to say, so he stays silent, wiping dust off the counter with a bare hand. his phone has no alerts. no texts, nothing. nobody cares where he is right now. that's probably for the best, but his paranoia is setting things off anyway.
and yet despite it all, there's a tiny flame of satisfaction burning in him, buried under the layers of guilt and shame and rage. ]
[ it's an absent comment as he picks up his shirt from where evan left it on the couch, trying to sound like himself instead of that hollow, morose feeling trying to climb up his throat and choke him. ]
[ sleeves until they're less obviously bites anyway. the thought slips through his mind, but it's hard to really focus on it or anything else right now. he just kind of... stands there, halfway staring at nothing as he pauses midway through doing up his shirt. ]
[ the comment almost startles evan, and he looks up at david, as if acknowledging everything is the problem. but it's not like they can't, now. he could barely ignore the memory of the shut-the-fuck-up-kiss or david blowing him for the last few months. this? this isn't going anywhere. ]
Easier for me than you.
[ it's an automatic comment from somewhere in the depths of his long-standing hatred for david. another insult about david's tendency to ... what, sleep around? take his shirt off? he's not sure.
then he asks a question he knows he shouldn't ask. ]
[ well it is easier for evan, especially given what david knows now, so he can't argue with that, just tilts his head in apparent acceptance. not that david can't tell it's supposed to be an insult but it's not much of one to him. he gets his kit off a lot? so what? ]
Yeah.
[ he answers without thinking. pauses again in the middle of doing up his shit because what the fuck is wrong with him all of a sudden, but david catches himself quickly this time. at this point what's the real danger anymore? evan might tell people about an apartment that only david uses? oh no. and how'd he find that out, they'd have to ask. ]
[ the more he thinks about it, the biggest risk is that evan decides to fight while he's there and breaks david's shit. (because obviously david is a model citizen who never starts anything.) ]
[ it's a bad question, not because of what it is on its own, but because of what it entails. david in evan's territory is bad, but manageable. if things go wrong, he can ... probably deal with it. but him in david's? he's got no power there. no ability to handle anything. it could be a trap.
even if his wasn't, and david didn't seem to have problems coming here. evan's paranoid. always has been and always will be. but he asked the question anyway, which suggests where he'd like to go. because this is going to keep going, no matter how stupid it is. ]
I keep coming here, someone's gonna wonder where I'm going.
[ he's not really known for vanishing acts, and he can only use the excuse of a woman for so long before someone wants to find out who she is. not a problem for david, probably. people expect him to have a rotation of girls who don't have names; they won't ask. it's kind of frustrating that he might not have an advantage in that department. ]
[ "i keep coming here". guess they're well past pretending these are one-offs, something they can just put down, as much as david wants to. because how much he doesn't want to far outweighs that. ]
[ and unfortunately evan has a point. he doesn't really want evan in his place except when he's in the moment and not thinking straight, but he gets the definite sense evan's people are way more involved in his business than david's are in his. he's not sure the logic fully flies, but it's not untrue that if he keeps being seen around the same places, someone's gonna get nosey. ]
[ he hates this, but david picks up his jacket to grab his phone. a frown on his face as he quickly taps out an address on the other side of town. a shitty, dead neighbourhood right on the fringes of their territory where half the apartments and houses are abandoned and boarded up. david doesn't mention that much though. evan can find out for himself. ]
[ evan pulls out his own phone and looks at the address. for a second he wonders: should he delete that? get david to delete it? but for all the things he's expected to do, handing over his phone isn't one of them.
so far.
he's not sure how much farther that'll go.
he can get rid of it later. along with every other conversation he's had with david. once he knows how to get there and can do it. the idea of actually doing it makes something twist in his gut, and he doesn't know if it's fear and anxiety or anticipation that's the cause. all of the above, probably. ]
[ david stands there a little uncomfortably for a moment. what now? they've both acknowledged this is going to keep happening, but this is so unlike any kind of sexual relationship he's ever had, david doesn't know what to do with himself. he doesn't even like this guy, can barely stand him even when things are amicable enough between them. ]
[ he tucks his shirt in and throws on his jacket, grabs his tie and lets it hang around his neck. ]
Okay-- uh. I'll be off then.
[ jesus christ, throw him into the river. david turns to go, shaking his head in dismay at his own awkwardness as he heads for the back door. mouthing a silent what the fuck where evan can't see. ]
[ evan's no better, just nodding as david says his awkward goodbyes and leaves. he's still staring at the address. he could do something worthwhile with this. turn it in. have it raided. have it tracked and bugged. they probably wouldn't get anything really good, but they might. and if nothing else, they'd know a safehouse. it'd get him far. and all he'd have to do is say he bought the information.
the urge flares and fades. he hates david and wants to beat his face in with his own two hands. turning over something small and private like this - he could, but where would it lead him? he'd be just as miserable as before. moreso, knowing what he could have, or at least try to get his hands on.
and, some part of him thinks bitterly as david's footsteps disappear out of hearing, it's not as if it'll help him at all. he'll get a moment of passing praise, and it'll disappear. be gone as quickly as it was there. his father won't care. he never will.
for a while evan lets that sink in, and then he gathers up what little's left of his own stuff and leaves. just out drinking. that's all. that's all he ever does on his own these days. ]
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hardlydead) wrote2024-05-20 10:36 pm
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it's a new sensation, one evan's not sure he wants to think about for more than a few seconds. but it's not bad, either. a little uncertainly, he shifts his hand to try and do the same, even if the grip is awkward. it's - different. not what he was expecting. not that he knew what the hell he was expecting other than david back on his knees, which some part of him thinks is going to be a one-time thing.
he shuts his eyes and focuses his attention back on david's shoulder, which is about as easy to hide as the collarbone. part of him wants to lay a mark on his neck, but that's too dangerous, and he knows it. his other hand is flat on david's chest, half supporting, half feeling. just getting everything he can out of this. ]
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[ this is simple enough anyway. david keeps his grip on evan's hip, bites the inside of his cheek when he starts to rock his hips up into their hands to try and stay focused. the slide of his cock against evan's is, right now, fucking perfect, and david shudders out a heavy breath, but he's more interested right now in evan's reaction. in what noise he makes, however quiet, or how his body responds. ]
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he manages to avoid drawing blood, at least, and pulls his head back just far enough so that he's not tempted to do it again. the mark looks decent against david's skin, at least, and for a second he almost smirks except david rocks again and it makes everything in his brain go hazy again.
it's hard not to do the same and thrust hard against david, in both their hands, but he manages to hold himself in check aside from a brief, sharp attempt. he also manages to keep his voice down to a groan. that takes less effort, but the further this goes, the harder that'll be. ]
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[ david tilts his head just enough to look at evan, at the look on his face when he looks down at david's shoulder and the way it changes when david rocks up into their hands, and that's something he knows instantly is going to stick with him for a long time after this. along with that sharp movement from evan-- it might not be much, but it's enough that it surprises david into another breathy curse and a low groan. ]
[ he starts to find a rhythm with his hips, if he can call it that, the hand at evan's hip travelling up his side, to his chest. absolutely shameless about grabbing a handful this time, because why even bother to try and be restrained about this kind of thing when you literally have someone's dick in your hand. ]
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the pace, rhythm, whatever they get together has another shudder run through him, but he doesn't make a serious sound. not yet. he breathes out steadily against david's skin and tries to move his hand a little, tries to do more than just let the friction and movement drag him out of his own skin and into the moment. it helps some. probably.
he doesn't even argue david's hand on his chest, feeling and grabbing and holding on in a way that seems greedier than just wanting to hold on. that's fine for now. fine the same way he digs his fingers into david's own chest and tries not to bite him again, even if he didn't get a bad response to the first one. ]
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[ he gives evan's chest another greedy squeeze, and then he scrapes his nails down his front, to his side. if they had the space he'd try to turn them over, put his weight into this, but there's no way he can manage that here, especially not without getting punched in the face. at best he'd just throw them both on the floor. ]
[ that's fine. he watches evan, takes in the faces he makes and how it's like nothing he's seen on him before. he wants more of that. wants to see what other ones he can get out of him. has to fight the urge to reach out and touch him while he's at it, fingers digging in harder where they are at evan's waist. ]
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he can ignore all that right now and try to breathe evenly even as things get harder and harder to control. he manages to just about strangle a thin moan, his fingers unsteady under david's, feeling like he's ready to lose himself to this completely. but he can't. he can't be the first one to give in. no fucking way.
there's enough concentration there that when david's fingers dig in harder he leans in a little further, hips pushing forward against the rhythm, making them drag against each other and that almost undoes him right there. the resultant surge comes out as one choked, desperate curse: ]
Fuck.
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[ and then evan moves unexpectedly and that almost pushes david over on the spot. his head falling back against the couch with a shaky, breathless moan. barely conscious enough of who he's with to bite back about a million things he'd say to just about anyone else. but even with all this, david has the sense to know if he slipped and accidentally called evan 'baby' it'd probably end up with him choked to death on this couch. ]
C'mon-- almost.
[ it comes out rough, just as desperate. fingers digging in hard enough to leave little bruises in the shape of his fingertips over the curve of evan's hip as he rocks up into their hands. at this point unsure if he's chasing his own end or trying to push it out of evan. probably both. ]
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there's no concerns. no thoughts of being overheard or seen. no fear of being found out, not right now. not when he's got this. not when he can hear david doing things, saying things, he'd never expected to hear, except maybe as a nasty joke.
unfortunately, as much experience as he has with women, david's something new. so evan doesn't outlast him. for a few seconds he doesn't want to. the noise he makes when he comes, caught between david and himself, is probably the most frustratingly embarrassing sound he's ever made in david's presence, and maybe anyone's. not a cry, not a moan, but something caught between those and a gasp that turns into a shuddered breath.
that he comes all over david's chest doesn't occur to him right away, but it'll be something to gloat over later. if he ever gets past the what the fuck did i just do aspect of this, anyway. ]
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[ it comes with a rush of feelings that are familiar, even if it's been a long time now. the guilt and shame and fear dancing at the edges of the warmth and high. he hasn't missed that part of it. david carefully takes his hand from around them, wipes it off on his stomach and lets it fall to his side. the other stays at evan's hip, grip loosening considerably. ]
[ he lets his eyes fall closed while he catches his breath,
just to try and enjoy this feeling for a minute before all the other shit comes crashing in. ]
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the biggest issue, though, is that he doesn't quite want to move yet. it's painful and awkward like this, but there's a sense of satisfaction running through him that makes him shiver. it was - unexpected. really fucking good, for what little it was.
and then the dread washes up on top of him, like a hand settling on his shoulder, ready to steer him straight into a bottomless pit. but nobody watches this apartment anymore. it's too far out of the way.
he pulls back - not off completely, but away, letting go of david, trying to pull his pants back up and put himself together again. his hands shake just slightly in the process, and that makes him angry at the same time that he's embarrassed. he can't figure out anything to say, so he doesn't say anything. it's always been easier like that. ]
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[ he lays there, quiet, trying to process that this happened. that he came out here with the express purpose of hooking up with evan macmillan, and that it was good. it doesn't even especially bother him still having evan's weight on him — it's kind of nice? ]
[ david tilts his head, fighting both the part of himself that always yearns for something more, and the crushing dark that makes him want to shove evan off and retreat as quickly as possible. stops himself reaching out for some point of contact and just tries to... settle. wait until evan's ready to move. ]
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he doesn't quite look at david as he slips off, gripping the arm of the couch to keep himself up. his shirt's open. need to do that up. as he does so: ]
Bathroom's through the bedroom.
[ the only other door in the place leads to both. he figures david's going to want to clean off. the urge to gloat or mock him over being the one with all the evidence on his chest and stomach is there, but it's so small and insignificant he barely even realizes it. he could, but david knows exactly how involved in that he was.
and the whole time, he knows this was all his own fault. he started it. all of it. the only thing david did of his own volition was blow him a month or two back. everything else, evan started. ]
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[ which is... a lot. sure he felt it, can still feel it, but david almost laughs when he looks in the mirror and sees all the little red marks across his collarbone and shoulder and chest. it almost looks like he had a rough time at paintball or some shit. ]
[ at least washing up is quick. he's not gonna root around to see what evan has, just uses his hands and whatever handwash is there. it's gross and unpleasant, but it's easy. quick as it is though, david just stands there a little while, staring at his reflection. the panic and shame finally starting to seep through now that he's not occupied, a million hateful words slipping through his mind like they're being whispered in his ear. ]
[ he wants to rip the sink out of the wall and throw it through the mirror, he wants to punch a hole through the door. what the fuck was he thinking? it's not like evan's even remotely close to the first man who's expressed any interest in him over the years, so why is this what makes him break? someone he can barely fucking stand at the best of times? ]
[ he's so fucked. they're both so fucking fucked. ]
[ can't see any towels in the bathroom, so david comes out eventually, body still wet from washing. not that david seems to mind it. there's a halfway vacant look on his face as he steps back into the living room, doing up his pants and belt and looks for where his shirt ended up to put that back on. ]
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there's a sore spot on his collarbone, where david returned the favors he doled out. from this distance he can see the red marks that'll darken. whatever little twinge of satisfaction he feels in seeing them is overwhelmed by the idea of what'll happen if david, who takes his shirt off more often than normal people, gets questioned about who left them.
he'll lie, obviously. and probably nobody's going to care enough to question further. but someone might. evan can at least know that nobody's going to see what was left on him.
he doesn't really know what to say, so he stays silent, wiping dust off the counter with a bare hand. his phone has no alerts. no texts, nothing. nobody cares where he is right now. that's probably for the best, but his paranoia is setting things off anyway.
and yet despite it all, there's a tiny flame of satisfaction burning in him, buried under the layers of guilt and shame and rage. ]
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[ it's an absent comment as he picks up his shirt from where evan left it on the couch, trying to sound like himself instead of that hollow, morose feeling trying to climb up his throat and choke him. ]
[ sleeves until they're less obviously bites anyway. the thought slips through his mind, but it's hard to really focus on it or anything else right now. he just kind of... stands there, halfway staring at nothing as he pauses midway through doing up his shirt. ]
[ this is fucking surreal. ]
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Easier for me than you.
[ it's an automatic comment from somewhere in the depths of his long-standing hatred for david. another insult about david's tendency to ... what, sleep around? take his shirt off? he's not sure.
then he asks a question he knows he shouldn't ask. ]
You got a place nobody watches?
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Yeah.
[ he answers without thinking. pauses again in the middle of doing up his shit because what the fuck is wrong with him all of a sudden, but david catches himself quickly this time. at this point what's the real danger anymore? evan might tell people about an apartment that only david uses? oh no. and how'd he find that out, they'd have to ask. ]
[ the more he thinks about it, the biggest risk is that evan decides to fight while he's there and breaks david's shit. (because obviously david is a model citizen who never starts anything.) ]
Why? You wanna come over?
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even if his wasn't, and david didn't seem to have problems coming here. evan's paranoid. always has been and always will be. but he asked the question anyway, which suggests where he'd like to go. because this is going to keep going, no matter how stupid it is. ]
I keep coming here, someone's gonna wonder where I'm going.
[ he's not really known for vanishing acts, and he can only use the excuse of a woman for so long before someone wants to find out who she is. not a problem for david, probably. people expect him to have a rotation of girls who don't have names; they won't ask. it's kind of frustrating that he might not have an advantage in that department. ]
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[ and unfortunately evan has a point. he doesn't really want evan in his place except when he's in the moment and not thinking straight, but he gets the definite sense evan's people are way more involved in his business than david's are in his. he's not sure the logic fully flies, but it's not untrue that if he keeps being seen around the same places, someone's gonna get nosey. ]
[ he hates this, but david picks up his jacket to grab his phone. a frown on his face as he quickly taps out an address on the other side of town. a shitty, dead neighbourhood right on the fringes of their territory where half the apartments and houses are abandoned and boarded up. david doesn't mention that much though. evan can find out for himself. ]
Meet at mine next time, then.
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so far.
he's not sure how much farther that'll go.
he can get rid of it later. along with every other conversation he's had with david. once he knows how to get there and can do it. the idea of actually doing it makes something twist in his gut, and he doesn't know if it's fear and anxiety or anticipation that's the cause. all of the above, probably. ]
Yeah. Sure.
[ next time. god damn. ]
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[ he tucks his shirt in and throws on his jacket, grabs his tie and lets it hang around his neck. ]
Okay-- uh. I'll be off then.
[ jesus christ, throw him into the river. david turns to go, shaking his head in dismay at his own awkwardness as he heads for the back door. mouthing a silent what the fuck where evan can't see. ]
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the urge flares and fades. he hates david and wants to beat his face in with his own two hands. turning over something small and private like this - he could, but where would it lead him? he'd be just as miserable as before. moreso, knowing what he could have, or at least try to get his hands on.
and, some part of him thinks bitterly as david's footsteps disappear out of hearing, it's not as if it'll help him at all. he'll get a moment of passing praise, and it'll disappear. be gone as quickly as it was there. his father won't care. he never will.
for a while evan lets that sink in, and then he gathers up what little's left of his own stuff and leaves. just out drinking. that's all. that's all he ever does on his own these days. ]