Rhett Hirata-Griffin (selfconfined) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2015-10-22 14:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 004, billy, rhett |
Who: Billy & Rhett.
When: Prior to 90 minute buzzer.
Where: Over there! (Inside the stadium.)
Rhett could’ve had a better morning. Namely, one that didn’t involve a deafening siren and being placed in yet another closed off white room. But hey, maybe that was just one of the plusses of being in this crazy situation; they were just going to expose him to suffocating, terrifying walled in spaces until he was used to the crippling anxiety.
It was probably more likely he’d find a way out before that happened. (Read: a less than zero percent chance.)
And while it didn’t completely soothe his nerves, the free show he got in the locker had not gone unappreciated--though he didn’t try to be too overt about it. Maybe everyone else was too distracted with their new circumstances? Hopefully? It was just incidental. Totally.
Look, there was no internet in the house, and it’s not like anyone was going to wake up at night with him hovering over their bed, hungering for their dicks.
When the course had been introduced to their whimsical lot of misfits, Rhett was among those who felt relief. This was what he was good at. This was way better than being molested by robot arms in a small, creepy room. Within the first thirty minutes he had already completed all his warm-ups and the full course, and as he took a break by the table of water, he contemplated whether he wanted another go. Even if he didn’t have to worry about being chased by the cops, there was personal amusement in this exercise. Being able to get from one point to the other as fast as he could, with his own actions and despite any obstructions was freeing.
He’d often go out exploring in the city, scaling different buildings and hopping from one obstacle to another to sneak into abandoned buildings as a way of exercising as well as practicing his escapes. Unfortunately, the buildings here couldn’t even compare to the ones back in the city, so he may as well take advantage of this course while he could, right?
--
Billy, on the other hand, was processing the situation much differently. The locker room had been trying for him. He’d kept his eyes focused on his own feet with such determination that he had actually struggled to get his shirt on. He had waited until he was certainly the last person to move towards the exit, glowering so intensely that he could’ve burnt his own name into the floor as he followed the peripheral movement of the others.
He followed along quietly, glancing about at faces he hardly recognized (maybe just a few in passing). Billy felt foolish and cowed, stuck among a group of strangers. He cast his gaze about helplessly, looking for some kind of familiarity to catch onto. Then saw someone he knew, or at least someone he thought he might.
“Rhe--??”
Shit, he was too far away. The clamoring masses between them squashed any hopes Billy had of getting Rhett’s attention as the throng filed out into the open arena. Rhett was near the front, obviously eager to get started, while BIlly was bringing up the back. The course didn’t excite him, but it didn’t necessarily concern him either. He stretched thoroughly, jogged in place for a while as he observed others getting started. Briefly, he almost wished he’d been among the first to try, just so he didn’t have to worry about halting his momentum for someone stuck on the course.
This was the kind of thing you wanted to do with a certain level of speed. Some of the obstacles looked a bit difficult to get through if you didn’t have the energy of a running start. Still, there was no point in standing around. In the end, he got through the course in a decent time with less near-manslaughter than he had expected.
He had resumed glaring at the floor like he blamed it for his predicament as he made his way over to the water table. He hardly even noticed Rhett beside him as he twisted the top off of a bottle and knocked it back, sweat glistening on his brow and neck as he swallowed the water down.
--
Rhett had arched his brow at Billy with only moderate interest when he came near him, though it didn't look like it was mutual--which was absolutely fine. There were a lot of good looking people among the captives, but it's not like he could stare too long without getting noticed. He wasn't sure what the other man's damage was, but so far it kept him from noticing Rhett's surveying eyes who had seen a good portion, if not all of Billy's body.
...God, what was he? A Gatorade commercial?
While he wasn't ashamed of his wistful stares, he also wasn't one to just gawk awkwardly. He had a little more class than that, thank you very much.
Dripping a small stream of water over his fingers, he playfully flicked the water at Billy's face.
"You want me to cool you down?"
...Rhett hadn't completely intended for his query to sound so much like the start of a really bad porno.
--
Half of a grunt got stuck in Billy’s throat as he blinked owlishly at Rhett before looking away quickly, as though he was afraid his eyes might get stuck if looked at him too long. The boxer tried not to read too much into the question, but it did give him an idea. He leaned forward, dumping the remainder of his water bottle over the back of his head and neck. A few good shakes of his head knocked the extra water loose.
Water and sweat dampened his shirt as he stood straight, staring down at his shoes for a moment. He wasn’t sure why he felt so at a loss now, they’d talked plenty the day before. It was the same problem he was always had: relationship maintenance. He was insular, he didn’t reach out on his own.
Slowly he looked up, “Didya have any trouble?” He inclined his head towards the track as he squinted at Rhett, to indicate what he was asking about.
--
If this was a Gatorade commercial, Rhett would be bringing home so many cases of that shit, goddamn. He continued watching with wide, interested eyes as he casually drank from his bottle of water, not even bothered that Billy hadn't technically answered his question.
Was it so bad if he just really wanted to touch his hair? He just wanted to run his fingers through it, like he was in the middle of a steamy make-out scene in a movie, or maybe a really gay, sensual shampoo commercial.
"Oh, uh." Rhett didn't even bother hiding the fact that he'd been creeping, but his eyes did meet Billy's as he answered. "Nah, not at all," he grinned. He was allowed to brag every now and then, right? Besides, he made that shit look good. "I'm used to this kind of stuff. Not much of a fighter, but I can make a heck of an escape. What about you?"
--
“Mm. Not what I’m used to but…” Billy paused, taking a moment to slowly roll his broad shoulders one at a time to ease the tension, “I made it through. Luckily.” He worked thick fingers, a few knuckles misshapen by calcium deposits (broken fingers from days long faded into history), into the muscles of his neck. He wished he had some liniment, anything to ease the soreness he’d feel later. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the endurance, but he wasn’t used to the demands the course had put on him with the unfamiliar movements that had been required. He let his head loll slowly, eyes closing as he tried to relax the muscles.
Silence settled easily between them, comfortable despite how he could feel Rhett’s eyes boring into him at such close distance. Some small, panicked voice squawked about whether or not Rhett had seen in him his state of undress, but Billy did his best to ignore it. That wasn’t even remotely important and he couldn’t imagine why he had even thought of it. Once you’d seen one dick, you’d more or less seen them all, right? It wasn’t (shouldn’t be) a big deal. While he was in the midst of trying to distract himself from that train of thought, he latched onto something else Rhett had said.
“What do you mean by escape?” Blue green eyes opened as he looked up at Rhett, a look that was curiosity shrouding a poorly hidden concern. He didn’t have much of an imagination, so he couldn’t even begin to fathom what Rhett would have to escape from. The smaller man seemed...likable? Unlike Billy, who was a bit odd and introverted.
--
Why were they in this terrifying, possibly life-or-death situation where they were stuck together for however the fuck long? If this was anywhere else, Rhett would already be slinking over, brushing up close to Billy and kneading and pressing his fingers firmly against his neck and shoulders. But noooo, there was no possible way for him to hit it and quit it. What a fucking cockblock.
At the question he raised his brow in surprise. Escape? Oh... fuck. He had just been talking and hadn't even realized how revealing his last statement was. How did you slip up that fucking bad?
Rhett continued to smile, his eyes still meeting Billy's. "Oh, you know. Sometimes my big mouth gets me into trouble, and I piss people off. I've been in plenty of fights in my time, but there's only so much I can do when there's a group of huge dudes wanting to beat my face in," he laughed. Immediately looking to derail the conversation, he leaned in close and elbowed the other man in the side lightly with a big grin on his face. "Why? You worried about li’l ol' me?"
--
Rhett’s jab pushed another grunt out of BIlly, his eyebrows creeping into each other again as he glowered down at the smaller man. One of his strong hands came up, catching Rhett on the back of his neck, about halfway up. His fingers cinched in a little to make their presence known.
“You are very small.” As if to make his point, he exerted some of his strength by giving the comparatively tiny man a mild shake. “I ain’t gunna hafta bail your ass out of trouble, am I?”
--
Despite Billy's attempt to be intimidating, Rhett's wide smile didn't waver. He was (mostly) positive the other man wouldn't hurt him. If he really wanted to, he could've punched him in the face and knocked him out at any given time in the past 24 hours. But since he hadn't, the thief was going to play the odds.
"Me? Of course not," he beamed innocently, and patted Billy light on the shoulder. "Anyway, I'm big where it counts," Rhett quipped, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
--
Billy stared at Rhett flatly, and for a second it was entirely possible that he didn’t understand what the other man was getting at. Then, mercifully, his eyes rolled as he shoved Rhett away in a manner that was almost, almost playful.
“I don’t get it.” He growled, but with a half-cocked smile that implied that he actually fully got the joke and was just being obstinate.
--
Look at that! Rhett beamed, once again excited he’d seemed to get under Billy’s skin. (In a good way.)
“Oh, no?” He leaned in closer, so that his lips were almost touching his ear when he spoke. “You want me to show you later?”
--
Billy practically jerked like he’d been shocked, taking a quick step away from Rhett like he was avoiding a jab in the ring rather than just escaping the feel of another man’s hot breath on his skin. His pulse was doing funny things, and his face morphed into a scowl in response. He didn’t know what to do, his skin was suddenly hot and prickly. He lifted a hand to rub at the offended ear like it itched.
He was actually faintly flushed. He kept his glare fixed on the floor.
“Nobody likes false advertising.”
--
Oof. Was that too far? Rhett would be lying if it didn't give him enjoyment, and not entirely of the sadistic kind. A bit of it was just being able to interact with someone in a light hearted way that may or may not be hiding something deeper.
"So you're saying that if the advertising was on point, you'd be happy?"
He lightly squirted his water bottle at Billy's head. Poor guy needed to cool down.
--
Fuck.
This wasn’t going in Billy’s favor. There was no graceful way to extract himself without looking chicken or giving something up to Rhett. There was just something about the other man that gave Billy the niggling feeling that he wasn’t joking about showing the boxer exactly what he meant. It put him on edge. Billy flexed his hands, forming and loosening his fists in succession. He wanted to punch something, he hated being in such a position of weakness.
“Hmph. When have I ever been happy about anything?” He asked, parroting a complaint Tony had levied at him a few times. How long had they been standing here? Was he about to get shocked? For the benefit of appearance, he started jogging in place.
--
"Shit man, I dunno," he laughed lightly. Rhett started moving after Billy; he was having so much fun it had slipped his mind that they were on a timer here. He opted to stretch a bit more, taking a long step forward and getting into the proper lunge position.
"I can give you something to be happy about later." Once he'd held the stance for several seconds, he switched legs, still grinning widely in the middle of the exercise.
--
Billy grunted harshly as he stretched with a determined focus he usually saved for prize fights. He was in a full blown panic, and his mind was quickly blanking out on any potential responses to Rhett’s proposal. If he opened his mouth right now, it’d just be a bunch of useless noise. Instead, he continued to glare at the floor as if he could dig a hole to curl up and die in by just willing it.
“Promises, promises.” He growled, trying to sound like someone with a normal pulse and not blood thundering in his ears. With that, he took off to jog about the track and get his mind off anything else it might deign to think of after such an exchange.
--
Before Rhett could continue with his merciless teasing, Billy had already ran off.
"Ah..." Maybe he had been too mean? Simply chuckling to himself, he stood up straighter and stretched out his arms while watching the other man for a few more moments. He felt a subtle yearning in his chest, something beyond the physical but--that was something he needed to squash immediately.
Shaking his head, he headed back towards the track where he could run all his unnecessary thoughts into the ground.