marilize legauana (marilize) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-09-18 10:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | george washington, marijuana party |
Who: Thomas and George.
What: Bonding!
Where: George's farm upstate.
When: Saturday evening.
Warnings: Possible alcohol use and drug references.
There was so much space. Thomas was used to cities - smaller ones like Peoria and bigger, busier ones like New York and San Francisco - and looking out into open space made Thomas feel small at the same time as it made him feel free. Spending time with his Great-Grandfather had been odd at first; Thomas had felt tongue-tied and wooden and like he needed to constantly be on his best behaviour, but after a relaxing Saturday and a full meal, complete with easy conversation, Thomas was feeling infinitely more at ease and comfortable with George. Comfortable enough to take advantage of all that open space and two of his Great-Grandfather's most exuberant dogs and simply run, throwing a Frisbee for them to fetch and fight over and trying to tug it back from them when he caught up with them. And even though he knew George was watching, Thomas couldn't help but act like a child, laughing giddily as he fought to regain control of the Frisbee and ended up rolling around in the grass and the dirt with the dogs playfully nipping at the edges of his t-shirt in order to make him laugh even more. Thomas liked dogs; when he'd been alone in Peoria and Richard had found him, Thomas had liked the chairman's pit bull, but he really hadn't been able to play with that dog in the confines of Richard's apartment. But now he could play and he did, until he was breathless with laughter and running and until his jeans had so many grass stains and dirt embedded into the denim that they probably wouldn't be able to ever be cleaned properly.
No matter. Thomas was having too much fun to care. But when the light started to slowly fade from the sky, they made their way back to George, back across the field to the farm, the dogs panting and Thomas grinning sheepishly. Plucking a stray piece of grass from his hair, Thomas looked down at his mussed appearance, flushing just a tad. "I'll just go get cleaned up quickly." He murmured, one shoulder shrugging up a bit because, really, he didn't care all that much that George had seen him act so childishly because it had been fun and Thomas was thankful that he'd been able to get out of New York City just for a bit, especially when he could feel that something wasn't right with his dad. The Highway, most likely, wasn't a fun place to be; being at the farm, however, was, so far, the most fun he'd had in ages. Slipping inside while the dogs bounded up to George, Thomas did his best not to track dirt all over the carpet and headed into the shower. Once he was clean again and dressed in better clothes - grey slacks, a green button-down - he pulled his damp hair back into as neat of a ponytail as was possible. Pushing errant strands back from his eyes, he quickly sent a text off to Bret - it read: OMG dogs are so fun i want a puppy how's your weekend going? <3 - before sliding his iPhone into his pocket and retrieving the family tree he'd drawn from his bag.
And then he was back outside again, looking less like a happy kid and more like a happy Party as he sank down into a chair close to George and smiled over at his Great-Grandfather. "Thanks for inviting me up here, Great-Grandfather." He said enthusiastically, looking up as the sun continued to slowly set. "There's just so much space! And I love all your dogs!" Maybe Marijuana would let him get a dog, Thomas thought to himself, and then filed the idea away under 'not very likely'. He was just happy to have been invited to the farm for the weekend.