Re: Deck chairs; sitting.
This guy didn't know what Nobody was ruminating on. (And let's be real, we're calling him Nobody but this guy didn't have a name picked out. It's just a nominal, a marker. He didn't know Nobody's name or not-name. This guy didn't feel like names were necessary.) The conversation had started so they didn't need an opener and I'm not sure this guy would have sat still for philosophy. It took thought and he wasn't big on thought, forethought or aftermath. He was an in-the-moment kind of deal and whatever dial was going to spin eventually, he didn't think he'd take a tour of philosophy. It was too much like the guy he'd doused himself in the lake to get rid of.
Wanting was like a whole chapter in this guy's book. It was written in capital letters, without punctuation. He could picture it, over and over on a page: 'I want I want I want'. There was a line between the rest of the chapters and this one, like a - what was the word? Yeah, a sequel. He was ghost-writing but he liked the idea of wanting bad enough to do something about it. But this guy was a man of action, which was why we're talking about a guy drip-drying on cement.
"I don't count on anything." It could have been true, it was probably a lie. This guy counted on some things, because to count on nothing meant you didn't have anything to count on. He'd lost whatever it was in the lake but he'd hung on to the lighter and kept that dry, which probably meant something. He liked blunt. It was straight down the line, it didn't pull its punches. Nobody wasn't pretending, and he could see that. "Tomorrow, I might not give a shit about tonight. Tonight, I do." More philosophy. Maybe he was shaking his way around to it.
He made a sound of amused dismay in the back of his throat when Nobody said it like that. "Can't have that." Whether this guy meant for this guy's pride, or because if Nobody was going to kiss a guy at a party to see what it was like, it had better be good. He rode up on one sodden knee and he used one hand to guide him, sure against Nobody's cheek. The hand was surprisingly warm given he had been in the lake not twenty minutes ago even if it was a little wet. This guy's breath was warm and when his lips brushed Nobody's, he was smiling. The kiss was hot, a little tongue and slow and sweeping. There was a little urgency but the kind that made it sweet.