Who the fuck doesn’t keep some kind of alcohol at home? (And Treavor should have had some. Treavor must have had some? Or did he drain it all.)
Treavor’s gonna protest. Treavor wants to protest, but the guy’s moving toward him (he’s got food? is that? for Treavor, food?) (Treavor only wants booze, thank you very much!) ((it’s a little bit nice though, isn’t it? even if he doesn’t want to think a fuckin thought about food)) and the guy said something else and then the guy’s getting closer and Treavor doesn’t push back into the safety of his blankets, Treavor watches, really only watches, wondering, and—
The guy says some things.
(He works with this guy, right? This guy who’s saying some things? (He knows he works with this intern this Alice, but it doesn’t connect that anyone he works with - anyone at all - would be using this sort of solid, gentle (affirming) (bolstering) (easing) voice with him. No one real ever says things like—
He said…
The guy said…
…
No one is ever ‘here.’ Not in a lasting sense, not in anything beyond a ‘taking you from point a to point b because we have to’ sense.
It’s a ploy. A ruse. The guy is… What does the guy want from him? Or.
…It doesn’t feel right. That the guy wants something. And the guy (Alice) is really close, never mind how unpleasant Treavor is, never mind that no one gets close to Treavor in the morning or anytime outside of drinking hours.
(This guy doesn’t look bad with glasses.)
(Like, yeah, nerd, but doesn’t he pull them off? (And who’s to say Treavor’s got anything against nerds?))
Treavor’s mouth’s dry. Well fucking. of course his mouth’s dry, the way of course his head’s pounding and his thoughts swim, his guts churn when he moves, if he moves.
And there’s a cool cloth at his head and it didn’t surprise him and it feels okay, the guy was slow with it and it feels okay, is Treavor imagining all of this? He. Feels awake, but all of this is. Unlikely? People don’t take care with him. (Or tell him they’ll be ‘here.’)
(This guy. Might not be so bad. In general.)
((Maybe. Maybe he’s just good at hiding it. Maybe the twins’ve been extra careful in choosing someone to mess with Treavor, corral Treavor, trick Treavor into behaving like a good brother an employee.))
((That’s not. This guy’s fault. Maybe?))
(…Treavor’s been a dick to this guy, huh?)
He should say…
He wanted something. Right? (A drink.) (he doesn’t quite recall.)
Half-itches to ask ’Hey did you. Sing to me?’ He’s not going to ask that. Fuck, he’s not gonna ask that. (But he wonders.) (But he’s pretty sure he knows.)
Has he been watching this guy for a while. Letting the cool sink in and slowly thinking over just how blue and close those eyes are.
Maybe he’s been watching, yeah. And not drawing back into the blankets at all. And not fidgeting, or turning away, or closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see.
(And feeling that pressure at his head.
Hand at his head, unwounding.)
And maybe finally he manages to speak.
(’What’s happening?’’What’s this about?’ No, that sounds… (half-damning?) not right.) ]
no subject
Who the fuck doesn’t keep some kind of alcohol at home? (And Treavor should have had some. Treavor must have had some? Or did he drain it all.)
Treavor’s gonna protest. Treavor wants to protest, but the guy’s moving toward him (he’s got food? is that? for Treavor, food?) (Treavor only wants booze, thank you very much!) ((it’s a little bit nice though, isn’t it? even if he doesn’t want to think a fuckin thought about food)) and the guy said something else and then the guy’s getting closer and Treavor doesn’t push back into the safety of his blankets, Treavor watches, really only watches, wondering, and—
The guy says some things.
(He works with this guy, right? This guy who’s saying some things? (He knows he works with this intern this Alice, but it doesn’t connect that anyone he works with - anyone at all - would be using this sort of solid, gentle (affirming) (bolstering) (easing) voice with him. No one real ever says things like—
He said…
The guy said…
…
No one is ever ‘here.’ Not in a lasting sense, not in anything beyond a ‘taking you from point a to point b because we have to’ sense.
It’s a ploy. A ruse. The guy is… What does the guy want from him? Or.
…It doesn’t feel right. That the guy wants something. And the guy (Alice) is really close, never mind how unpleasant Treavor is, never mind that no one gets close to Treavor in the morning or anytime outside of drinking hours.
(This guy doesn’t look bad with glasses.)
(Like, yeah, nerd, but doesn’t he pull them off? (And who’s to say Treavor’s got anything against nerds?))
Treavor’s mouth’s dry. Well fucking. of course his mouth’s dry, the way of course his head’s pounding and his thoughts swim, his guts churn when he moves, if he moves.
And there’s a cool cloth at his head and it didn’t surprise him and it feels okay, the guy was slow with it and it feels okay, is Treavor imagining all of this? He. Feels awake, but all of this is. Unlikely? People don’t take care with him. (Or tell him they’ll be ‘here.’)
(This guy. Might not be so bad. In general.)
((Maybe. Maybe he’s just good at hiding it. Maybe the twins’ve been extra careful in choosing someone to mess with Treavor, corral Treavor, trick Treavor into behaving like a good brother an employee.))
((That’s not. This guy’s fault. Maybe?))
(…Treavor’s been a dick to this guy, huh?)
He should say…
He wanted something. Right? (A drink.) (he doesn’t quite recall.)
Half-itches to ask ’Hey did you. Sing to me?’ He’s not going to ask that. Fuck, he’s not gonna ask that. (But he wonders.) (But he’s pretty sure he knows.)
Has he been watching this guy for a while. Letting the cool sink in and slowly thinking over just how blue and close those eyes are.
Maybe he’s been watching, yeah. And not drawing back into the blankets at all. And not fidgeting, or turning away, or closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see.
(And feeling that pressure at his head.
Hand at his head, unwounding.)
And maybe finally he manages to speak.
(’What’s happening?’ ’What’s this about?’ No, that sounds… (half-damning?) not right.) ]
Do you have a cat?