Dusty "THAT DUMBASS THAT SLEPT WITH COBY" Baker (dusty_storm) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-01-31 17:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-07-02 |
I'm taking a ride with my best friend
Who: Dusty and Gareth
When: July 2nd / 2009 - 9:00pm
Where: A field somewhere
Gareth sat down among the tall grasses with a sigh, placing the six pack of beer and the four bottles of blood beside him. Before leaving the house he'd taken special precautions to package the bottles of blood -- the guy at the store had promised him that Psychic blood had psychotropic effects on vampires -- meaning, in short, D would be good as drunk. Gareth didn't entirely trust the man, who had seemed angry about a human buying blood. Now he relaxed into the grass, opening a bottle of beer for himself and taking a long drink. "Hey, hoss, you want some?" He offered up a bottle of blood and then pulled a face. "They don't taste so good though, I tried one, tastes like... nasty gross."
Glancing out across the field, Dusty's eyes narrowed back in on Gareth as the other man offered him a bottle. "I dunno," he grumbled, wary of the offer of blood from his friend -- who had, until now, been quite adamant that he only drink Gareth's blood. It was sort of a sudden change, and one that wasn't all that easy to get used to... not right away, anyway. Dusty pushed at the rim of his black cowboy hat, tilting it up as he approached the other man. He seated himself in the grass as well, careful to maintain a comfortable distance. He felt it was needed, considering the things they had done the day before. Dusty was still having a hard time coping with all of it, the reality of what they'd done not quite setting right. Gareth was definitely different today, too, which didn't help the situation. It was a noticeable change for Dusty, considering how long they'd known each other. "If it don't taste good, why would I want any?" he asked, leaning back to put his weight on his hands. The grass bent under his palms, wet in the heavy evening and somewhat calming. It was at least familiar, reminiscent of years past -- times that had long since been cast into memory.
"It don't taste good to me cuz I ain't supposed to drink blood, hoss," Gareth explained as he took another long drink of his beer. He intended to get happily plastered tonight, stare up at the stars, and imagine that things were as they had been before Dusty let on that he knew about Gareth's homosexuality. They'd both been carefully avoiding the subject of their sex from the previous night, and Gareth wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to keep it that way or not. Getting drunk would help him ignore, if not forget about, the things that had come between them recently. "And besides, the guy said that it would make you feel drunk, an' let me tell you D, I am sick of gettin' drunk alone. I asked him if it would do anything else an' he said not really, but some vampires can kinda imagine that they feel warm. I dunno, thought you might like that." He flushed a little and then lay back in the grass at Dusty's side, enjoying the smell of hay, wheat, and above all else, open skies. It had been a minor drive out into "the country" -- which by Texan standards was laughable -- but he certainly believed it was worth it. He'd missed wide open spaces.
Dusty glared at the bottled blood as though it would reach out and bite him, as though no good could come of it. "Yer soundin' just like that girl, now. The child vampire I had to go an' talk to, no thanks to you." He gave Gareth a pointed look before reaching for the blood seated between them. "It better not be goddamn awful, man. This shit is cold. What the fuck." He was entitled to complaining about something like this, considering he had only one real source of food for the rest of his life. He was at least allowed to bitch about the state of it from time to time. With a heave of a sigh, Dusty opened the bottle and tossed the cap, glancing back at Gareth once more before bringing it close to smell it. "I cain't recognize none of it," he muttered against the glass. Finally though, he tilted the bottle upward and took a sip, just to taste, holding it in his mouth a moment before swallowing it. With a snorted laugh, Dusty choked out, "Just like tastin' wine, Gareth, only this don't taste like uppity bullshit."
"I know," Gareth answered in a strangled voice as Dusty brought up Ava. "Don't remind me how much I suck at doin' things all the time." He shook his head, watching one of the stars that speckled in the sky for a long moment before pinpointing it as Mercury. Mercury was the god of speed, if he remembered correctly, and he thought he did. Navigating midnight skies was just one of the many things his grandfather had taken time to teach them, and it was at peaceful moments like this that Gareth found himself thankful for the endless hours of training he'd received. Turning his head, Gareth felt individual strands of hair catch against the somewhat rough grass and tug away from his scalp. Under the moonlight his features were ghost pale, his hair silver. Hopeful blue eyes locked onto Dusty's features. "It's good then?" Personally, Gareth loved wine, but he couldn't remember at the moment how Dusty felt about it, and couldn't decide if his choice of blood had been favorable. "Why don't you come over here man, that way we don't got to shout across the field to talk to each other, yanno?" Dusty was just far enough away to make the blonde feel isolated. After a pause, the Texan propped himself up onto one elbow and finished off his beer in a quick swallow. Tossing the bottle behind him, he smiled as it fell with an audible thud and reached for another. "It just tasted like blood to me," he added, making a face.
Dusty turned to see Gareth, watching the way the other man stared back at him. It was unsettling, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why that was. Dusty did end up shifting though, lifting himself off of the grass long enough to bring himself a little closer to the other hunter. Once he had settled, Dusty brought the blood to his lips again, taking a longer drink at his leisure. "Tastes like blood to me, too," he muttered, though he was staring curiously at the bottle, as though it would whisper to him what it was made up of. "Dunno what kind, though. It ain't bad, I s'pose. Just... y'know, bloody'r whatever." Dusty smirked, shrugging, the bottle planted between between his legs comfortably. Daring to turn to Gareth again, Dusty allowed himself a - very brief - moment to take in the other man's appearance, the lack of life in his eyes and color in his cheeks. It was unsettling, though Dusty wasn't sure what to make of it. He probably hadn't been sleeping enough. God damn retard, he teased internally. He ain't got a damn lick'a sense in his head.
"So it's good though." It wasn't a question, Gareth could tell from the older man's tone that he wasn't unhappy with what he was drinking and that was enough for the blonde. "The clerk at the store was givin' me the evil eye the whole time I was askin' about blood, probably wonderin' what the hell I intended to do with it." He took a swig of his beer and then laid back, laughing. It was the laugh that showed all of his teeth, the laugh that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes squint. He could feel the beer affecting his mind already; everything felt warm and hazy, rounded around the edges. "I had half a mind to tell 'im I had a fetish fer blood and just loved drinkin' it, but I think he were a vampire an' I just weren't in the mood to get my ass kicked tonight." He laughed again. "So it makin' you warm hoss? I mean, it ain't supposed to make you actually feel warm. Apparently that kind of blood is real hard to get -- the kind that makes you warm, but this stuff has uh, like effects on your head or whatever and sometimes vampires imagine they warm." His features grew embarrassed, sincere. "I knew you miss that a lot. Bein' warm."
He had been trying to relax, trying to let the blood take effect if that was what it was going to do. Gareth's words brought a small laugh out of him, though mostly he were trying to imagine the blood had made his limbs warm, made him able to feel the difference between the cool of the grass beneath him and the heat of another... Dusty blinked his eyes open and turned them on Gareth, his mind stopping itself in its tracks before the thought had been completed. He didn't want to admit to feelings that went down that road. He had no idea what it all meant, or why they had done the things they'd done. They had been friends for the entire span of their life. It didn't make sense for that to have happened. Friends didn't do those things with each other. It just wasn't the way of the world, not for Dusty. They couldn't be best friends and be sleeping together all at once. That type of shit was for chick-flicks, after all. "I dunno," he finally answered, reaching out a hand to touch the grass. He was surprised to find (even if it was imagined) his senses reacting to it, the cool stroke of plant matter under his fingertips. "Holy shit," he managed. "Gare, this's fuckin' cold!" It wasn't honestly all that cold, but it was the first word to come to mind. He became aware all at once that the air around them seemed warm, heavy, sinking into his skin as though a blanket had just been laid over him. "Shit, hoss..."
Gareth's eyes shone at Dusty's words, the exclamation and joy in his friend's voice and he moved himself a few inches closer, grinning wildly. "You can feel it D? For real?" Some days it seemed that he could feel Dusty's pain when it came to the numbing of his senses, that hopelessness that seemed to seep from his friend's body and spill into the air around them. Gareth wondered, for the first time, how their sex the night before must have felt to Dusty. Had Gareth felt warm to him? Or had it just been the friction that caused Dusty's orgasm? The thoughts were upsetting, and had no place in his mind. Without considering what he was doing, Gareth reached out, brushing his fingers along Dusty's wrist and up his arm. "Can you feel me? Like really feel me Dusty?" His voice was soft, as awed as the older man's, and for a moment he lost himself in that touch. Dusty was warm. His skin was soft and pliant. It was almost like he was human again. In a flash the blonde realized what he was doing and jerked his hand back, grabbing his beer up and drinking the entire bottle down in a few quick swallows. "Sorry."
Dusty tensed when he felt the touch on his arm, and even as a slight unease rose from the depths of his gut, he felt arousal stir and heat him from the inside-out. The blood was fogging up his mind step by step, effecting him on a level Dusty couldn't begin to understand. Had he known what had been fed to him, he would never have taken it. Not like this, and certainly not all at once. He couldn't help that when he looked to Gareth he saw beyond him, right through what he was saying while trying to process it. "Sorry fer what," he muttered, brow furrowed as his face flushed a dark color. Dusty brought the blood to his lips again, taking another drink to try and -- well, he wasn't sure what he was trying to do. It tasted good though, better than it had before somehow, and as it traveled down his throat he felt himself fall further into this strange feeling of being completely lost inside himself. "Feels good, Gare. You should do that again."
Gareth's stomach sank and soared at the same time, his blue gaze growing luminescent, bright. "Really D? You uh... it's okay if I touch you?" A slight unease settled into his nerves. Perhaps he'd gone too far, mixing all those bloods. He hadn't thought the effects would be heavy, that Dusty would look like he was sinking in a sea of confusion. They had done acid together once or twice in their youth, and on the first trip Dusty had been like this, muddled, his face ruddy, his eyes practically glowing out of his head. Gareth had seen colors in everything, in the sky, on the bricks, and most importantly, in the blue of Dusty's eyes. Gareth had stared into his friend's gaze for what seemed like hours, stunned by the blues, the greens and flecks of God that had peered back at him. Dusty, for his part, had stared back at Gareth as though he could see eternity in his features. The older man was giving Gareth that look now and the blonde hesitated before reaching out to touch Dusty again, run his fingers along his arm and over his hand, touching the warm skin and soft flesh as though he had never felt another person before. The alcohol was going to his head, making the world spin pleasantly, and he gave his friend a smile. "It's supposed to like... make you high an' shit too. How you feelin' D?"
The touch on his arm didn't quite sink in, not in the way it would have if he had been anything but drugged up. Currently, Dusty didn't have it in him to be angry or put off by Gareth's greedy hands traveling over his skin. "S'like bein' alive again, Gareth." He blinked at his friend and fellow hunter, moving to press his hands into the grass and hoist himself to his feet. The sky spun away from him, not that it mattered, and he laughed. The sound was deep in his throat, echoing and genuine. It was more than could be said about a lot of what resembled his beaten-down emotions these days. "I'm feelin' real good, Gareth... real good. Like I'm unstoppable. You cain't stop me, and neither can no one else." He started away from the blond sitting in the grass, eyes wide as he stared out into the field that sprawled out in front of them. "You see them cows?" he asked, gesturing in a broad arc for Gareth to see. "They's just askin' for trouble, Gare."
Gareth watched Dusty move up and away, his eyes bright, a grin on his features. He hadn't seen his friend so... care free, since they were teenagers. Planting one hand in the cool grass, Gareth hoisted himself onto his feet, jogging after Dusty. He had just reached the older man when he realized he'd forgotten to grab a beer. Heaving a heavy sigh, he ran back to the six pack and grabbed one of the coronas, popping it open before returning to the Texan's side. "You know D, I do believe that you might just be correct on that. They look awful snotty, don't they? Like they might know somethin' that we don't." He laughed, his head reeling, and leaned forward on the fence. "I say we oughta do somethin' about them cows D. Got any ideas?" He turned a shining smile on his friend, teeth showing in the moonlight. He and Dusty had gone cow tipping before, and it was always equal parts hilarious and terrifying. The hardest part was getting away before the cow could get back on its feet and charge at you. Now Gareth looked back out at the cows in the field, and then to Dusty again. "Whatchu thinkin' hoss?"
Dusty glanced back over his shoulder as Gareth went on about the cows, watching the other man break into another beer. "Yer gonna be drunk as shit," he told Gareth. It wasn't as though he really had any room to judge, though that didn't stop him from saying it. He smirked and turned back to the cows, brow furrowed as he squinted across the way at their bulky forms. "Thinkin' about how good it's gonna feel to torture them beasts." He took in a deep breath, his chest expanding as the warmth spread into his head. He felt crazy, like he was swooning and dying at the same time, like the blood inside him was expanding and filling him up, making it hard to think straight at all. "God, I wanna fuck some shit up... fuck some stuff..." He gave Gareth a good, long once-over, blinking away again to where the cows were waiting for them. "C'mon, hoss, we gonna... uh, we're gonna take 'em down."
Gareth felt his heart stammer in his chest as Dusty looked him over for a long moment, his blue eyes seeming to pierce through him, then the older man was looking back at the cows and Gareth took another long drink of his beer, laughing out a mouthful of it abruptly. "Okay, Dusty, I'm gonna hop the fence, an'... you... you come with me." He laughed again, taking a final drink of his beer before letting it fall to the ground. In a surprisingly graceful and fluid movement, Gareth placed one hand on the fence and leapt over it, landing solidly in the field on the other side. "C'mon D. Lets get this show on the road." He grinned and glanced up at the stars, happy about the night, about his friendship with Dusty, about everything. He hadn't felt this way in too long.
Dusty grinned and nodded, hopping the fence just behind Gareth. He landed next to him, laughing deep in the back of his throat as he stood up straight. "Gawd," he said, drawling it out for all it was worth, "this is gonna be a good time." And it was. Cow-tipping was something the two of them had done plenty of times in their youth, and it had always been a laugh-riot. Even when they'd gone home bruised and filthy, and really, sometimes that made it all the better. As it was, Dusty was barely walking straight at this point, giggling and feeling overheated - and incredibly horny - and just managing to keep himself in line. "You wanna get the first one or should I?" Dusty stopped and hunched down into the grass to watch the cows, blinking at them as he ran his tongue along the back of his front teeth. It wasn't as though he could easily touch the bottom row, considering his slight underbite.
Gareth watched Dusty with all the drunken interest possible, his blue eyes rapt as the older man hunkered down, staring at the cows intensely. "Okay D, you take the first one. We gotta find out if these Michigan cows are as fast Texas ones -- I don't think they is. They look fat an' slow and lazy, but yer a helluva lot faster 'n I am, so you know, you'll be able to get away if by some freak chance they IS fast." The blonde knelt, one hand touching the soft and cool grass, and he zeroed in on one particular cow that was only about forty feet away. She was a large heifer, clearly asleep, easily weighing more than a car. Dusty would be able to knock her over easy. "Go fer that brown one D. She's out on her feet an all fer sure, an not near any bulls." There were a few males in the pen, further away, and Dusty and Gareth would push them over before the night was through -- the males were always faster, and angrier, and funnier to tip.
Dusty nodded, looking around to confirm that there weren't any bulls in the area. Gareth appeared to be right on that, which was a good thing. "The last thing we need is t'get run down by a damn bull," he muttered. When he was sure they weren't under any immediate threat, Dusty moved forward through the grass, nearly entirely silent as he approached the cow. She had no idea he was there, and with his vampire's abilities, she would have had to be awake and staring right at him to notice.
Gareth watched Dusty creep up on the Heifer with bright, delighted eyes. His hands covered his mouth as he tried to stifle the giggles that were threatening behind his lips. "C'mon hoss. Show that cow whatfor." He did begin to giggle then, ducking his head and hiding his face for a moment. When he looked back up, Dusty was almost to the cow and Gareth was stunned by how attractive the older man was. The moonlight shone silver on the older man's muscular and trim frame, his neck was slender, his smile devilish. Gareth's heart dropped a little and he leaned hard on the fence, shaking his head. "Damn."
Once he'd reached the cow, Dusty stopped to glance back at Gareth, catching a bit of something in his eyes that he wasn't sure he knew how to handle. It didn't matter right now though, and Dusty turned back to what he'd been doing. The cow had shifted slightly, but seemed oblivious to what was going on around her. Fangs out as he grinned, Dusty crept up with his hands out, the excitement crawling up through his spine. Without any warning, Dusty lurched forward and shoved as hard as he could against the side of the cow, startled when it crashed over faster than he'd ever imagined, rolling onto its back with a startled cry. Dusty jumped backward, laughing without even realizing what it was he was seeing. The cow appeared to be rolling and rolling to him, its legs kicking and scrambling to find purchase on the ground. "Did you see that?!" Dusty shouted, standing up tall to throw his hands up into the air. "You see what I did? That thing ain't never gonna get up again!" He felt like he was swooning, stumbling around as he headed toward the other hunter.
Gareth's mouth fell open as the cow tumbled down the minor slope in the field, his features equal parts amused and horrified. "Oh my Lord D! I think you mighta killed it!" He was giggling between his words though, his features bright and delighted, filled with mirth. "Fuck hoss, look!" The cow had continued its tumble, crashing into another cow and knocking it over as well. This sent Gareth into a gale of laughter from which he couldn't recover. Pitching forward, the blonde leaned heavily against Dusty until he could catch his breath. "Shit. D." He peered up into his friend's face, adoration and admiration spilling from his gaze in torrents. "Should I go up there next or what?"
Dusty felt proud, his chest held out as he returned to Gareth. When his friend leaned against him he shifted, trying to get him to get off but not quite succeeding. Short of pulling away entirely, he wasn't going to dissuade Gareth from leaning on him. "Yeah, I dunno man. I think you might get yer ass trampled if you go on over there right now. I mean, hell, man... look at how shit-ass mad they is!" Dusty gestured to the cows, all making noises and hurrying the opposite direction from where they were standing.
Suddenly, amist all the braying of the angry cows and the thudding of bull hooves, a light flashed on. A dog started barking. It hadn't occurred to either of the intoxicated men that with farm land, and farm animals, there usually came a farmer. With the porch light now on, Gareth could make out the house, which was only about a hundred yards from the cow and bull pen. Lights began to come on in the windows, the sound of the barking dog grew in volume, and more dogs began to join in. Gareth felt a ripple of fear wash through him, not from the farmer, but from the dogs. "Shit D! We gotta move. Let's go. We gotta git!" He began pulling on the older man's arm hard even as he tried to climb over the fence.
A peal of laughter escaped Dusty at the appearance of sudden light and the sound of barking dogs, and as Gareth tugged him he followed, reaching out for the other man. "Wait, wait, wait!" he shouted, pulling Gareth back. "C'mere, just a sec!" Dusty fell to the ground, still laughing, and focused hard on his back, on the wings he knew he was keeping tucked away inside his body. He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding together as he tried his hardest to draw his focus inward, away from all the outside stimulus. "Damn it," he ground out, but without warning his wings ripped through his tee-shirt and sprang upward, blood flying out into the air and splattering around in the grass. "C'mon Gare," he said hurriedly, reaching to grab for his hands as he stood back up again. "We's gettin' outta here like this." Dusty used his vampiric strength to hoist Gareth up into his arms, leaping onto the fence nearby and then upward into the air. The wind was strong enough here - just barely - at the top of the hill, on top of the fence... and with an almost panicked fluttering of dark wings, Dusty lifted them up into the sky above the fields -- and the dogs snapping at their ankles below them. "Don't piss yerself!" he shouted over the wind.
Gareth was overwhelmed with terror as Dusty dragged him back towards the fence. "D-- D! They's got dogs here hoss. Like a lot of them, an'.. an' they sound real big and real mean. Come on, don't make me stay h--" His words cut off as the dogs grew nearer. Without thinking the blonde turned, clawing at Dusty, grabbing at him. His eyes were wide, his features irrational and mindless with fear. "Dusty the god damn fuckin' dogs are gonna fucking get us!" He was screaming in the older man's face, near to wetting himself, when suddenly Dusty dropped to the ground, leaning over. "What the fuck are you--" He stopped as Dusty made a noise of pain and then brilliant mahogany wings speared out of his back, spreading wide and spraying blood. A gasp escaped him, and then Dusty was reaching out, grabbing him, pulling him near. "D?" He could barely articulate the sound, his lungs were locked with surprise. Instinctively his arms went around the older man, and just as the dogs reached their feet, Dusty lifted them into the air. Gareth clung hard, his mouth hanging open, his heart stopped in his chest. "Oh my god."
Holding onto Gareth as the other man clung to him, Dusty carried them both further up into the sky, catch just enough of the wind to make this easier on him. It wasn't really a strain on his arms, but -- he wasn't exactly anywhere near practiced with this whole flying business. Honestly, he was shocked that he'd gotten off the ground at all, and in his psychic-blood-induced state, he was feeling maddened by the sudden rush. Being up off the ground was dizzying for him, and if he'd had a heartbeat, it would have been thundering. His body thrummed with anxiety and excitement, his face lit up from the thrill of it all. "This is so fuckin' gay, Gareth!" he shouted, laughing the entire time. "But I ain't too worried 'bout it or nothin', so it's cool. We's headed back to the truck though, okay? Then we cain just like, go home or whatever... and god damn it, Gare, you better not be pissin' yer pants!"
Gareth couldn't breathe. His heart was stammering in his chest, his throat was tight and he was filled with this dizzying sensation that everything was right in the world, that everything was perfect and beautiful, and it was all thanks to Dusty. The blonde man, had spent most of his life dreaming of the ability to fly, but now he didn't notice the stars, the sky, or the land below them; all he saw was Dusty, the bigger man with his vibrant and beautiful eyes, the way he was laughing. The wind was whipping Gareth's golden hair around, but he didn't feel the rush of air, or the dizzying effects of the height, all he could feel was Dusty's arms around him, the way the older man's chest rumbled when he laughed. He realized belatedly that Dusty was talking to him and he clung harder, now seeing the stars, hearing the wind around his ears. "I ain't pissin' my pants D! Shit." He managed, but his voice was shaking in a tell-tale way. Abruptly tears began to leak from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto Dusty's shirt -- where he buried his face. "Fuck! Them dogs -- and we left the beer down there! What if the dogs drink our beer?! Then they'll be drunk an' even madder that we got away!" The idea of the dogs drinking their beer was comical enough to bring laughter bubbling up from his chest and it came out openly, as openly as Dusty's laughter was spilling forth. This felt amazing. For the first time in months, the blonde felt totally and completely alive again. He was laughing and crying at the same time, his face tight against Dusty's chest, his body trembling uncontrollably with the force of his emotions.
Dusty laughed at Gareth outright, not at all worried about being hit or anything. Not like this, while they were in the air. His wings beat down against the wind as he saw the truck nearing them, much faster than it seemed like it should have appeared. They were flying, though, so it made sense he supposed. "You's ridiculous," he told Gareth, shaking his head as he headed for the truck. "Don't worry so damn much, Gare. We's almost back to the truck an' shit anyway, so we'll be down there soon an' on our way home again." He considered the landing aspect of all of this, remembering that he wasn't exactly well versed in the mechanics of it just yet. "I uhh... I ain't so good at landin' yet, Gare... so uh, yer just gonna have to hold on an' whatever... 'cause the ground's comin' up real fast!"
"I won't look." Gareth mumbled agreeably and braced himself for a painful impact. His heart was still on a rampage, his body tense. If it hurt, it hurt. Hopefully it wouldn't, but there was never a guarantee... abruptly Dusty touched down, his feet thudding hard and loud on the pavement and there was sickening sense of vertigo as they nearly toppled forward. Then Dusty started over compensating for how hard they were leaning forward and threw himself backwards and Gareth went with him. By some miracle they didn't fall over and Gareth continued to cling to the older man, breathing hard, holding on as tight as he could. "Shit Dusty, that was fuckin' amazing." He gasped, no thought in his words. As he spoke, it occurred to him that Dusty was painfully hard, and that hardness was pressing against his stomach. The realization made his own arousal stir, his body already flooding with adrenaline and endorphins.
Dusty felt a sense of heavy pride spread through him after the landing had been successfully completed, grinning as they both stood up straight without injury. It was a good feeling, and it was almost enough to drown out the scent of Gareth's sudden mood change. Almost. Dusty caught it though, the scent of sex on the other hunter as his body went rigid. He had been aroused almost the moment he'd taken that blood, but right now... It was an odd realization, knowing without needing to feel it that Gareth was hardening right now. He could hear the pounding of his friend's heart, could smell his blood as it came closer to the skin, filling Gareth's cheeks. He looked more alive than he had in a while... "You look sick all the time," he muttered, and without thought he reached to grab for Gareth, his fingers catching and yanking the blond hair hanging in the other man's face. He brought their mouths together in a sloppy, drugged state, the kiss not so much as coherent as he'd meant for it to be, and more just a mess of arousal and confusion.
Gareth was watching Dusty with adoration, the older man had saved their lives and allowed Gareth the chance to fly, something he'd always wanted. Now, as his cheeks reddened and his heart pounded all the more, he inched closer to Dusty, unaware of how strongly he wanted him. The draw was almost impossible to ignore, pulling him in, and when Dusty mentioned how sick he looked, it gave him a start. He'd managed to forget, if only for the night, that he was dying. Before he could make an excuse, lie, Dusty had him by the hair, was pulling him in.
The meeting of their lips wasn't what would be shown in a romance film, but it made Gareth's stomach drop nonetheless. Dusty's mouth was wet, his fangs were sharp, and his tongue was roaming wildly. Gareth threw himself into the contact, kissing back desperately, clinging hard. Without meaning to, the blonde found himself grinding their arousals together, the friction intense. He moaned into Dusty's mouth, wrapping his arms more securely around the other man.
As Gareth pressed back, grinding their bodies together, Dusty shoved the other man back against the side of the truck, pressing him against it hard, lifting him off his feet. The kiss continued, too rough, bruising strength behind it as Dusty tore into Gareth without thought or mercy. He was taken by the psychic blood, by the thrill of the run and the hard laughter they'd enjoyed during torturing the cows. It was all he could ask for right now, and yet even as their tongues dragged past each other, hands grabbing at clothes and skin, Dusty's mind was on something else entirely. He felt the lack of fat along Gareth's ribcage, the empty feeling of absent strength in Gareth's hands and the lackluster heat that emanated from his chest. It was something he'd noticed more and more of the last two days, his mind picking up on things as their relationship mutated into... whatever the hell this was supposed to be. Dusty pulled away suddenly, mouth hanging open as he took in a deep breath, his blurred mind knowing they still needed to get out of here. "C'mon," he said, gesturing to the truck, "get in so we can go home."
Gareth was swept up in Dusty's kiss, in those rough hands running over his chest and stomach, feeling every inch of him with a sort of desperate and frantic desire. It felt as though his heart was going to rip out of his chest, his breath was coming short and hard, making it impossible to catch any oxygen. When Dusty pulled away, Gareth was left cold, shivering, confused, and with a chest so tense he didn't think he'd be able to draw in any more air. "D..." He started, wanting to spill everything forth: how much he loved him, how much he needed him... but then Dusty was telling him to get in the truck, that they needed to go home and he nodded, swallowing back his words and digging through his pockets for the keys. "I'll drive." He offered even as he climbed into the truck, trying to clear his mind enough to keep functioning.
Dusty nodded at Gareth's offering to drive, knowing that he wasn't quite in the right mind space for it anyway. He headed to the passenger side and tried to climb in, but let out a yowl of pain as his wings caught on the door. "Shit!" he snapped, stumbling back, flapping hard as though that'd somehow make it better. "That fuckin' hurt..." He whined, his expression pathetic as he tried to figure out what to do about getting into the truck. Finally he settled on just tucking them in close and forcing his way inside. Sitting down wasn't exactly easy, though, and Dusty ended up bitching while trying to get comfortable. "This ain't a good idea, Gare. You should'a said somethin'... now I'm gonna be cryin' the whole way back home."
Gareth looked at the older man a little drunkenly, confused, and then realized the problem. "Shit! I'm sorry D. I didn't... you can't put them back in, can you? That sucks..." He stuck the key in the ignition, missing on the first few tries. Finally, he got the truck running and reached out, touching Dusty's wing gently. "I'm sorry they hurt to fit in the car hoss, but uh, they're really fuckin' awesome lookin' on you." He flushed a little and then pulled the car onto the road with a surprising ease. If nothing else, Gareth knew how to drive drunk. It was something he'd done many a time, and he was cautious. He never went over the speed limit, and always stayed on his side of the road. "Thanks for uh... for flyin' me hoss." He laughed a little then. "I always wanted to fly. And you saved me from the dogs."
"Yeah, it does suck, man..." Dusty tried hard to get comfortable, but ended up sitting on his knees awkwardly as they drove down the road, his wings fluttering and pressing against the window and the back of the seat as they went along. "You uh, you think they look good? I mean like, uhh... like how, exactly? Like real manly or somethin'? You be honest with me, 'cause I was kinda thinkin' they looked like pansy wings, like a fuckin' fairy or somethin'. I ain't no fairy. I'm a vampire, which is near just as bad, but not quite as gay." For some reason, it seemed really important just now, that Gareth give him his honest opinion. It likely had a lot to do with the state of his mind, given the blood he'd taken while in the field.
"I mean it D, they're real manly. I mean, they're fuckin'... amazin' on you. You're like... you're like the arch-angel Michael 'r whatever, you know, come down to smite non-believers an' sinners. You're like, majestic an' manly, not gay at all." He glanced over at his partner in crime. The beer was doing awful things to his mouth, allowing it to run as much as it wished. It were almost as though the connection between his mind and his body had disconnected, allowing him to run on impulse alone. "I mean, they're fuckin' sexy as hell on you. I love when you got them out. I just wanna touch 'em and... I mean, seein' you like that is hot as hell hoss." It took him a couple of minutes to realize what he'd said and his mouth fell open. Well, shit.
As the truck made its way down the road Dusty stared at Gareth across the truck, mouth slightly parted, eyes wide at the compliments that rushed out of the other man like blood. He stuttered a little and shifted, not sure what he could really say in response that didn't seem ridiculously queer on his part. "Uh," he finally settled on, licking his lips, brow furrowed over his deep-set eyes. "Cool. That's good. Real good." He glanced out through the front window of the truck, breaking eye contact very much on purpose. "You been dieting or anything lately?" he blurted out.
Gareth felt a rush of relief so intense it made him dizzy when Dusty didn't freak out about what he'd said and laughed a little, the sound nervous. Without thinking about it, he focused back on the road, trying to ignore how tight his pants were, or how good Dusty looked to him in that moment. The swell of emotions that rose in his throat when he thought of his best friend was a good indication that he was too far gone to go back. The hell of it was that he'd been able to ignore those feelings for years. But everything had changed, and quickly, and he'd lost control. His thoughts were ripped away from him by Dusty's question -- which was out of the blue. "I ain't ever been one to diet D." He answered before considering what he was saying. Fuck. Dusty couldn't be on to his... sickness. Could he? Maybe he could taste the difference in Gareth's blood? Or maybe Gideon had told him -- No. If Dusty knew, he'd have confronted Gareth by now. "I think it's just been kind of a stressful couple'a weeks yanno? I ain't been eating as much as I used to or nothin'."
"Huh," Dusty answered, staring at Gareth from across the way. "Alright then. Guess that makes sense." The rest of the ride back to the trailer was in relative silence aside from their favorite country music station blaring around them, and their occasional additions to the songs -- one of them drunk, the other drugged on psychic blood -- that did absolutely nothing to assist the music in any particular way. It was light and familiar entertainment, which honestly, was good enough for the both of them.