Dusty "THAT DUMBASS THAT SLEPT WITH COBY" Baker (dusty_storm) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2009-11-14 00:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-06-22 |
Moronic Display For Nobody
Who: Dusty and Gareth. Surprise!
Where: Their lovely trailer.
When: 12:33am
Warnings: Racist joke within. Not meant to offend, but it seemed appropriate, given the background of these two boys. =)
Dusty turned the engine off on Gareth's truck as soon as it came to a stop, grinning as he jumped out and landed, heavy on his boots in the dirt. He let out a bit of an excited call and shoved the keys into his pocket, grinning as he stormed up the stairs to their trailer and let himself in. "Gareth!" he shouted, his blue eyes searching the room like a dog looking for his toy. "Hey, hey, Gare! Wake up! Guess what I did?!" The blond on the couch wasn't given enough time to really react, and before he could even so much as answer, Dusty had climbed on after him, hands on his shoulders to smack him into consciousness. "Get up! I gotta show you somethin'! Guess where I been?! Guess?! Where I been?!"
Gareth was dreaming -- in his dream he was walking through dark tunnels filled with fog. There was someone shouting up ahead, but their voice was distant... and then suddenly, a dog leapt out of the darkness, landing on him. For a moment he thought "It's the were!" And then he landed on his back. The dog was growling, inches away from his face, the weight on his midsection heavy and warm. Suddenly the dog's growls shifted, becoming more vocal, less frightening. Gareth was pulling back, leaning away from the dog and its terrible breath when it suddenly began to speak. "Gareth!" It sounded like... Dusty. He felt himself swimming to consciousness, though the weight on his waist and the breath drifting over him remained. He blinked groggily at the vampire, confused by his proximity and tone. "What? What D? I don't... what'cha want?"
"You fuckin' lazy bastard!" Dusty said, grinning as he shoved his fingers into the other man's face, right up under his nose. "Guess where I been!" It was a command more than a request, and Dusty broke down into laughter afterward, pulling away and climbing off of Gareth without any real grace. He stumbled to his feet, still cackling proudly and knowing that Gareth would throw a fit at any moment. "I got myself laid tonight," he told him, chest puffed out as proudly as it could be. He couldn't imagine anything better to proud over, especially these days. It wasn't like he had a lot else going for him.
Gareth was groggy and still disoriented as a hand was shoved in his face-- more specifically under his still healing nose. He inhaled without meaning or wanting to and let out a noise of dismay. "Aw fuck Dusty!" He squirmed, trying to throw the scruffy man off him. "I was sleepin'! I didn't want to wake up to crotch hands in my face!" He shifted, intending to sit up, and instead rolled off the couch. "Ow." Climbing to his feet, he rubbed at one eye, knowing what Dusty wanted to hear, even though the idea of the balding man fucking anyone and then quite literally rubbing it in his face was unappealing -- even as a matter of discussion. "Was it good?" He asked, cracking his neck and peering at his friend through sleepy eyes.
"Don't you lie to me," Dusty said, rolling his eyes as Gareth fell off the couch. It was a fairly typical moment in their lives and he let it roll off of his shoulders like it hadn't even happened. Gareth would get up on his own. "Hell yeah it was good," he told the other man. "Would I be wastin' my time standin' here in the middle of our amazing and well decorated, thanks to me, livin' room, if it wasn't?" It was said as though he were waiting for a very serious answer from the other man. "You know it was good, Gareth, shiiiit."
Gareth found himself falling into the old routine. This was the same thing they had done time and again, and although each time it happened Gareth barely felt able to grin and bear it, he did. A cocky smile spread across his face and he brushed his pants off a little before taking a seat on the couch. "Oh yeah? Didja get her name? Was she fine?" He laughed, and found himself amazed at how easy it was to fall into place again. "I mean, what did she look like man. Spare no detail."
Dusty roared a laugh in response to Gareth's questions, shaking his head side to side as he took a step toward the coffee table. "I ain't gonna tell you every detail, 'cause you ain't done nothin' to hear all of it, but... she was so good," he told the other man. "You ain't even got no idea, Gareth. You uhh... you remember that chick we picked up in Tallahassee? The blond girl that we uhh... you remeber that one, right? Well this chick... she was even hotter 'an that, and we both said we weren't never gonna see no one as good-lookin' ever again in our lives. I'm tellin' you... dayum. Or maybe I was just really horny." He paused. "Eh, what the hell, it was so fuckin' hot. We banged in the back of the truck, even. That thing is damn useful in a man's time'a need."
Gareth listened to Dusty's words, ignoring the sinking in his stomach as the older man went on and on and on and on about her, and managing to keep an amused look on his features -- even feeling amused (and baffled) as Dusty went on about how they weren't ever going to see anyone as good looking again in their lives... was he ten? The blonde was on the verge of laughing until Dusty mentioned the back of his truck -- suddenly all amusement was gone. The blonde stared at his friend long and hard, blue eyes bright in the dim room. "You fucked her where now?" He couldn't help but suddenly feel betrayed -- nay, even VIOLATED. Dusty had fucked some bitch in his-- in their truck while he sat at home in a dead sleep because Dusty had fed too much the night before? Everything about that seemed wrong.
Dusty could sense Gareth's ill temper rising and sighed heavily, throwing his hands up into the air before lurching forward to grab at him. "You stupid cranky whore," he teased, yanking Gareth up and off of the couch, immediately catching him in a hold around his throat to lock him there. "You don't even fuckin' know what it's like, man... my fuckin' crazy body went haywire an' I was gonna tell you all about it but you gotta sit there an' be all damn cranky like you was entitled to it or somethin'." He crammed his fist into the top of Gareth's hand, giving him a hard noogie, as he felt the blond man deserved it.
Gareth was about to pitch a fit. Dusty standing before him like a prince among theives, like... like a insolent teenager who had gotten laid... and it wasn't fair. But before he could properly tantrum, the bald man was yanking him up, wrapping an arm around him, and Gareth almost melted into the touch, catching himself at the very last minute and putting up a minor struggle. "That's my god damned truck D." He managed in a strangled and choked voice as he squirmed against his friend, twisting in his grip to face him. "No noogies!" He grunted and wrapped one arm around Dusty's waist, using a leg to hook behind the smaller man's knees and knock him to the floor. Unceremoniously he began wrestling his scruffy friend. "I ain't a cranky whore."
Dusty was laughing from the stomach by the time they were on the floor, in an incredibly good mood for once and not at all bothered by the impromptu wrestling match. Not yet, anyway. For the moment, his good mood was too much to bring him down and he simply kicked and wrestled the other man, all too easily pinning him down on his back. "Yes you is!" he shouted, a bit of spittle flying downward onto his friend. He was seated on Gareth's waist, looking proud and full-chested, lips pursed and chin squared out. "I double-dare you to contest that fact, you cranky bitch-whore."
Gareth began to buck against Dusty, trying to throw the older man off. "I ain't no damn whore. Not a cranky one or otherwise." For the moment he was distracted from his anger by Dusty's body atop of his, the weight warm and heavy and almost... almost pleasant. "An' you can't make me say I am." He shifted a little, still squirming, and began to sit up, using Dusty's weight on his lower half for leverage, the muscles in his stomach screaming out in agony as he essentially did a sit-up with straight legs.
Dusty was glad for the fact that he'd always been a little bulkier than Gareth, the taller yet more slender man bucking and twisting below him as though it would help him out somehow. He watched as Gareth started to sit upright, grinning wide at the challenge. "I cain't?" he asked, voice booming in their relatively small trailer. His hands shot out then, quicker than Gareth had even seen them to grab at the other man's wrists, taking them in stone-like vices as he pinned him to the floor. It was done as smoothly as though they'd practiced it, a rare moment of real grace in Dusty's otherwise oaf-footed movements. He cackled, self-satisfied, as Gareth breathed underneath him, blue eyes staring downward into the other man's face. "You say it, you cranky bitch-whore."
Gareth was stunned for a moment as his hands were pinned beside his head. His mouth fell open part way and he narrowed his eyes at his friend. "I. Ain't. Sayin'. SHIT." He answered and began to writhe against Dusty, twisting and grunting, bucking his hips up against the older man's, struggling with him as much as he could. "Ain't sayin' nothing D. Absolutely nothin'." He added and tried pushing the older man off his wrists, jerking them under the vampire's grip. His face began to flush with his efforts, heart hammering in his throat, and he tilted his head up and back, exposing his neck as he gasped for breath while straining against the older man's weight.
Immediately Dusty tried to settle his weight more firmly in place, trying to be sure that Gareth wasn't going anywhere despite all the bucking and grunting. He grinned, fangs visible and his pride in his eyes as they continued their moronic display for nobody on the floor of their trailer. It was all fine and good until there was a sudden rise of heat coming from Gareth, a sharp turning of events that had Dusty trying to rearrange what was going on in his head. He blinked down at the pale flesh being bared so openly, the heartbeat of his friend thundering in his ears. He could hear it all the time, even when he was sleeping, but... right now it was loud, louder than it had ever been before. Dusty swore he could feel it in his bones, the pulsing that shot right through him, every dead vein in his body urged toward life by it. These strange feelings gave way to something else entirely, and as Dusty held Gareth firmly to the floor, the realization dawned on him and he jerked away faster than he was prepared for; his body hit the coffee table next to him as he struggled to his feet, head swimming and fingertips aching. There was a dull throb in his gut, and lower, the definite - and inescapable - feeling of arousal changing the tone of the moment completely.
"Damn it," he spat, looking down on Gareth as though he'd done something wrong, "you just... you just better 'member I schooled you somethin' fierce, and you know your place. It's down there, right under me, cranky bitch-whore." Dusty just didn't know what else to do with himself. "You damn fool. Next time you just give in, y'hear?" Anxiously shifting, trying to shake off the feeling that came with suddenly being uncomfortably hard, Dusty tried desperately to move forward.
"I uhh... I got a good joke to tell you," he offered.
Gareth was still struggling against his friend when Dusty suddenly jerked up and away, as though he were burned. Gareth took this in stride, having spent many years wrestling with Dusty, and many more being pulled away from when the contact grew to be too intimate or weird. He paused to catch his breath, his body relaxing against the cool floorboards of their trailer, his hands still resting up above his head. Dusty was on his feet, but Gareth didn't bother to look up at him, instead he closed his eyes and continued to catch his breath. After a few moments of his friend cursing and storming back and forth Gareth cautiously sat up, an idea dawning on him. Maybe he'd feel better if he washed the back of the truck. No nasty Dusty-sex skank on it. Climbing to his feet slowly, Gareth cracked his back and looked at his friend with curious eyes. He could tell Dusty was uncomfortable for some damn reason or another, but after so long together, Gareth had stopped trying to guess when a reason wasn't downright obvious. "A joke?" He asked, and looked at the scruffy man. "Sure, go ahead, share me a joke."
"A'kay," he answered quickly, blinking sharp blue eyes up into Gareth's face. He seemed disheveled and maybe even confused, the erection he was sporting not as obvious as it had been but glaringly so to him. He only hoped that Gareth was too stupid to see it, as he wasn't in the mood to kick his ass. He'd had an amazing evening out of the house, and didn't want to ruin it now. "Uhhh..." Reaching up, Dusty ran a hand over his head, nails scraping over the bits of stubble toward the back, the blond patches a sore reminder of what he'd never really be able to grow out ever again. "So uh, there's these guys. A black guy, a Mexican and a white dude. They're dead right? An' uhh, they're all goin' up to Heaven." Dusty sniffled, pulling up to straighten his back, to try and get into the joke. "So God goes, 'I'mma give you each one wish, 'cause you been so damn good down on Earth.' Tell me if you'd heard this before, Gare. And so the black guy goes, 'God, I want my people all t'go back to Africa, 'cause that's where they came from.'" He smirked, starting to get more into the feel of it. "And so the Mexican guy, he goes, 'Yeah, that's a great damn idea. God, send my people back to Mexico.'" Pausing, Dusty grinned and chuckled. "So you know what the white guy says?"
Gareth shifted from foot to foot, blue eyes locked carefully on Dusty's face. His hair was mussed from their wrestling, and his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched the other man move about. There was a predatory look in his friend's features, but Gareth was doing his best to ignore it. It was the same look his often goofy room-mate sported when they were hunting weres... or when he was about to feed. "No idear what the white guy says D." He replied compatibly at the right moment, still listening intently.
Dusty was glad to hear Gareth playing along, pausing long enough to lick his lips and allow his expression to change. He waved one hand around in an airy gesture, playing the part of the white guy all too easily. It wasn't even that either of the men really bought into all of this, or they thought it was hilarious for the wrong reasons. They were Southern though, and these jokes had been in their ears and on their brains since the day they were old enough to walk. It was built in, no-nonsense, no-tact humor, and not even years of hunting could wash away what childhood had set in place. "'Well,' he says, 'shiiiiit. No blacks? No Mexicans?'" Dusty cackled, waving a hand to tell Gareth to wait for it. "'I'm just gonna have me a coke.'"
Gareth waited for the end of the joke, grinning a little as Dusty clearly neared the end of it. His grin grew wider and when the end of the joke came about Gareth burst into laughter. "I-- I-- I'll just have a-- oooooh shit!" He managed between cackles, gasping for breath, eyes bright and wide. The joke was hilarious to the tall man -- he'd been raised to believe such humor was better than pies in faces or men getting kicked in the balls. He was breathless, the joke beyond good. It took him several long moments to regain his breath, and several more to regain his composure. He finally looked up at Dusty, wide blue eyes and messy blonde hair and grinned. "Well shit. That's fuckin'... god damned hilarious." He intoned and reached out to slap Dusty's arm before making his way towards the kitchen, where he retrieved a bottle of bleach from under the sink.
"I know," Dusty responded, as cocky as he could be about the delivery of the joke. He was feeling mighty proud - combined with a flutter in his chest that he couldn't quite pinpoint the origin of - over it, and knew that with a response like that he would be a fool to feel otherwise. His eyes followed the taller man as he moved into the kitchen and very slowly his attention shifted. "Now what in the hell are you doin' with that bleach?" he demanded, suspicious immediately. "I don't even remember buyin' that, so you better have a damn good explanation. You gonna separate our whites from our colors an' do the laundry?" Somehow the question seemed appropriate, given the joke that had just been share, and Dusty waited impatiently for a response.
"Nawwww. Y'the expert on seperatin' the whites an' the colors." Gareth replied with a laugh, his features bright for the moment. "I ain't doin' laundry, shit. What, we only been wearin' these shirts and shit for a couple'a days. We got another week an a half use outta 'em at least." He coughed out another laugh before flinging open the door. "We didn't buy this bleach, it came with the house." He steadfastly ignored the expiration date that read "Use by 1982", and made his way outside and over to the truck. "I'm cleanin' y'nasty sex off the back off my truck." He grunted effortlessly, and made his way over to the rusted and ancient vehicle. It never occurred to him that bleach might damage the already deteriorating paint job.
Dusty rolled his eyes as Gareth headed outside, following behind him despite himself. "You're doin' what?" he asked, blinking, laughing at the other man. "You gotta be the biggest damn fool I ever seen. Ever. You're gonna pour bleach all over the back'a that truck, an' risk damaging it more than it is already? You really think that's smart? I mean, I could think of a million things you could be doin' right now, all of 'em better than this. This is just stupid." And on and on and on, he went. Dusty could talk forever if he were in the mood for it, and right now was no exception. It felt good to just yammer away behind Gareth, his mouth running as fast as thoughts came into it. "An' it ain't like we didn't use a damn condom, anyway. It might still be back there, but... whatever. No amount'a bleach gonna change what happened."
"It better fuckin' NOT be back there!" Gareth rounded on his friend, practically screeching. "If I find a fuckin' condom back there you ain't NEVER usin' this truck again, you can use yer god damned fuckin'... wings. Or whatever." He turned back, uncapping the bleach and dumping it all over the bed of the truck. He didn't see any condoms but... Once he felt the back was probably sterilized enough, he turned back to his friend, handing him the empty bottle with a grin. "There we go. No condom, so I guess you can keep usin' the truck." He teased and took a deep breath, looking up at the gloomy sky. "You look like you could use a shower, an I could use a walk. Stretch my god damned legs. I'll be back in a while, okay D?"
Dusty made sort of a somber expression in response to the empty bleach bottle and suggestion that Gareth would be going out for a while. He hadn't meant to make him mad, and wasn't sure where he'd quite gone wrong tonight. "Shit," he said, chucking the bottle into the nearby pile of trash they had sitting out by the road. Dusty waved briefly at Gareth before heading back toward the trailer, knowing he smelled awful but not really needing to hear it from someone he'd been wanting to spend time with tonight. Oh well. Gareth was his own man, and Dusty was his own man, and they could do whatever the hell they wanted with their damned time. As Dusty reached the top of the stairs he glanced back over his shoulder, catching Gareth briefly before turning to head inside. "Seeya later," he muttered, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.