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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 20, 2012 0:35:47 GMT -5
Nash walked out of the bathroom with his jeans low on his hips, his chest bare and still wet. He was running a towel though his hair, walking back to his room for a shirt when his sisters bounded up the stairs, calling for him. He ignored them, walking into his room.
"Who's your friend?" The middle one asked.
"He's cute." The youngest piped up, tugging on his arm.
"You aren't gay, Nashville. Stop hoarding him." The eldest complained. And he tried to wriggle out of the grasp that was his little sister.
"S-stop.." He groaned, only hearing bits and pieces of their raced speech. "I g-gotta get dressed.. for work. A-AARON!"
"That's not fair, Nash. You don't play fair." The youngest pouted, tugging on his arm again.
"W-what do you want f-from me?!" His chest started to hurt from screaming for their dad.
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Post by dylan flambyte parker on Feb 20, 2012 0:39:17 GMT -5
Dylan paused as he passed the room. "Hey, hey, give him a break." The last word of the sentence, 'bitches' lingered on his tongue, but for Nash's sake he tried keeping his mouth and attitude in check, continuing on like nobody's business and dropping onto the couch.
He stretched his legs out some, taking his hat off and hanging his arm over the armrest of the couch, running his free hand through his hair.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 20, 2012 0:50:25 GMT -5
Nash watched them trail after him like flies to honey and shook his head. 'And he says he can't get girls' he thought, walking over to his closet. He pulled on a white polo shirt, then sat on his bed to pull on his shoes. He combed his hair, then walked downstairs to see one girl at his feet, one kneeling at his head at the arm of the sofa, and one kneeling in front of him. 'Just like mermaids.'
"That's pitiful." His step dad said, and Nash raised an eyebrow, pointing to his ear.
"Pitiful." He repeated and Nash laughed.
"Y-yeah, I would say so.." He said with a smile, walking over to sit down in a chair and work on putting on his belt.
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Post by dylan flambyte parker on Feb 20, 2012 0:54:12 GMT -5
Dylan had a soft smirk on his lips at the three, but it was just a mask. Agitation burned deep within his eyes, a tight control about him despite his relaxed position. He wanted to snap just as much as he wanted to run and hide, the conflicting emotions always coming as a package for him.
His bad attitude and species fighting with his fear of hurting every person he touched much further than friendship.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 20, 2012 1:11:05 GMT -5
Nash finished with his belt, then tucked his shirt into his jeans. He stood up, glancing over at Dylan.
"R-ready?" He asked, putting his hands into his pockets.
"No! He can't leave!" The youngest complained, and Nash thanked his lucky stars he went to his dad's after this.
"B-bye, Mister A-Aaron." Nash said with a smile. He walked out to the shed, grabbing his phone off the charger. He put the soda on the counter back in the fridge, and looked over at Dylan.
"I-I'm sorry. They're really a.. nnoying." He said, walking over to him. He kissed the corner of his mouth, sliding his phone into his back pocket.
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Post by dylan flambyte parker on Feb 20, 2012 1:15:07 GMT -5
Dylan grunted, nodding as he manuevered around the three, managing to avoid tripping over any of them. "It's fine," He huffed once they were out of the house and near the shed.
The kiss caused his heart to jump and he smiled faintly, hugged him close a moment, letting go before they walked out of the shed and into the yard again. "Where do you work? I'll walk with you."
He jammed his hands in his pockets, had already planned on not going to work himself. Pausing, he grabbed for his leather jacket, drew it on.
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 20, 2012 1:27:34 GMT -5
"Spencers." He said quietly. It didn't pay much to be the stock boy, but it helped his dad a little, since his mother refused to pay the man anything for taking care of their son half the time, and didn't seem to care that the military didn't give him enough money to support himself, let alone his son. Once out of the quiet of the sound-proof shed, he couldn't hear anything anymore except the dull drone of everything around him.
He pulled out his phone, deleting all the text messages his mother had sent him over the course of the night. He replied to his dad's text of 'i love you, nash', then deposited his phone back in his pocket.
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Post by dylan flambyte parker on Feb 20, 2012 1:33:44 GMT -5
Dylan nodded, walking beside him, looking around quietly. He pulled his hands from his pockets again, toying with one of them for a moment.
He cleared his throat.
He figured it could be a long walk, gently brushed his hand over Nash's own to get his attention. 'What's your favorite color?'
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Post by nashville 'nash' aspen greer on Feb 20, 2012 1:39:59 GMT -5
Nash looked up, then over at his hands. 'The color you get when you mix blue, grey, and white. Like the color of a stormy sky, just before a hurricane is going to hit.' He didn't know why he liked the color; probably because it was a color he had seen so much when they lived in Louisiana with his dad. It reminded him that bad things always have to come to an end.
'What about you?' He signed, looking up at him.
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Post by dylan flambyte parker on Feb 20, 2012 1:44:26 GMT -5
Dylan smiled faintly. 'Interesting,' He signed back, licking at his lips. 'Me..? Haven't ever really given it much thought, you know? But...anything that's...' Hands paused, searching for an explanation. '...happy.'
Another smile passed his lips. 'Silly, I know..' Especially considering who he was, what he was.
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