'CHAPS ROUND YOUR WAIST

Laughter fills the silence of the truck as he shakes his head. He wants to strangle him for bringing her up -he hates being so easy to read. Levi doesn't even think about her anymore in context of Trent. Instead it's Texas and everyone who meant something to him there. Levi glances ahead as their speed picks up and pictures a tire blowing off and the truck spinning out. Rolling over. At least then they could rot together. "Tricks are getting more stingy by the day." That's how he's been. He reaches over and pries Trent's hand off the wheel to press his bloody palm into his. "I missed you."

He grins, relishes in the not-so familiar sound of Levi's laughter. He could die right now and he'd be thanking God for having that be the last thing he heard. "You don't need 'em." Trent says, just like the tricks Levi's told him about, the ones who say they'll whisk him far away from here and lavish him with endless gifts. But Levi's in his truck, not theirs. He glances at their hands, so easily entwined. He doesn't actually think he's held it before, not like this — maybe pulling each other out of the crowd from the club, or on their friends' shoulders, wrestling in the pool, but — he brings it up to his eyeline, inspects his knuckles, a little battered and bruised, then presses a gentle kiss to it. "Do they hurt?"

"You don't want to kiss anymore." Levi tells him like it's a fact. "Been kissing someone else." He mutters as he presses a Skittle between his teeth. It coats his mouth to rid him of the metallic taste. It'll be nice to wear the robes and get in the hot tub and pretend they're other people. Levi's gaze follows the pass of each headlight as he imagines them getting hit head on. He keeps trying to picture it like some sort of premonition like he's on some Final Destination shit. "There's a lot of things I want you to do." Levi smiles as he keeps his eyes on the road. He wishes he was the one driving. "What were you doing when we were apart? Who were you with?"

He doesn't answer the question, because he doesn't want to fight, but he can offer a consolation prize. "I haven’t seen my ex if that's what you were askin'." His foot unconsciously heavies on the gas, he iust wants to be there already - in a five-star hotel with robes and champagne buckets and make-believe. “How have you been? How are your friends?” 

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Cassell just nods his contentment because there ain't shit to say but he's still pleased. He needs Trent to know that he's pleased because it's rare that he gives in like that. "I said that? Run back the tape." He shakes his head laughing because now why the fuck would he say that? This could have all been settled if Trent just dropped him off at his hotel. Now he's here half melted to Trent's couch getting his ass beat by some old ass weed. His brows knit together the moment that Trent is pulling him up. Why's it seem so easy? That's sort of pissing him off. Still he moves easily through Trent's place his gaze catches on the guest room door before they're slipping through to Trent's room. "Hey." Cas calls out helplessly as he sprawls out next to Trent. He tries not to touch him but it's sort of hopeless. "What was in that weed?"

"What d'you need receipts for? You don't trust me?" He hits back, voice pitched high in disbelief, cracking on the tail-end because the weed's made his throat feel all dry and funny. The bed feels nice underneath him, the duvet cover so soft in his palms, like velvet, the mattress a cloud. His eyes close instinctively, then open again, because he doesn't want to even consider falling asleep. He rolls over to his side, makes himself less comfy so the drowsiness doesn't tiptoe in. He'd like to tangle their legs together. "How am I meant to know? Told you I don' smoke. It ain't mine." Which sounds sus, but he just means someone left it at his place and never asked for it back so he stashed it. "You smell good." Trent compliments, staring at his cheek. So soft, maybe as soft as the duvet.

that finally got a laugh out of ira. a real one too, low and warm, shaking his shoulders as he ducked back under the hood. "man, if your grand plan was admit she was right and hope for the best, i think that's about as solid a strategy as any man has ever come up with." he reached for another tool without looking. "most relationships are just two people takin' turns bein' right about different things." the next question earned a longer pause. ira straightened, resting a forearm against the truck as he studied trent for a second. "you are askin' the wrong fella." his accent thickened around the words. "i fix engines. human beings are a hell of a lot more complicated." still, he considered it. "but if somebody says they don't wanna see your ass anymore, i generally take 'em at their word. AT LEAST for a day or two." a grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. "now, whether she actually means it? couldn't tell ya.folks say all kinds of things when they're mad." the omen comment made him snort. "ain't an omen. it's deferred maintenance." he pointed the wrench at him. "you city boys are ALWAYS lookin' for signs from the universe. sometimes the universe is just a radiator leak." then trent asked if he wants anything, and for a second ira looked genuinely caught off guard by it. "nah." he shook his head. "appreciate it, though." a beat passed before his mouth quirked. "actually, if you're dead set on spendin' money, grab me one of them terrible gas station coffees from across the street. the kind that tastes like it was brewed sometime during the last presidential administration." he nodded toward the door. "and don't call your ex while you're gone. give both of y'all a chance to cool off before one of you says somethin' you'll spend the next six months apologizin' for." the grin widened. "trust me. that's a repair bill i can't help with."

Trent's going to call his ex, but he has to give it to Ira, something about the way he says it, for a split-second, makes him think he won't. But he knows himself. He knows he will. Still, he appreciates Ira for that, thinks he might be unharnessed magic, that if he wielded it like the supreme wizard in the weird fantasy books Luke's always reading, then Ira could make anyone do anything they want. Of course, Trent doesn't say this aloud.

zaire huffs out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious under trent's gaze. "yeah? well, that's what happens when you don't see someone for half your life." the joke lands softer than he intends. for a moment, zaire just stares at trent, trying to reconcile the man standing in front of him with the kid who used to know everything about him. "you don't look that different though," he admits quietly. "maybe older. a little grumpier." he jokes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "still would've recoginzed you anywhere, though." the words slip out before he can stop them, and he glances away toward the bar, swallowing hard. "never thought i'd actually have to, though."

A small laugh that's all air slips out of him. He wants to be funny and unaffected about it — because Zaire's not wrong. It's been too long to be petty. They're grown now. With adult jobs and adult problems. Still, his heart twists thinking of them younger, when they'd thought they'd known everything but realized all he'd known was that the first cut is the deepest. He inhales, balances out. "Yeah?" His brows raise, gestures to his forehead, the shallow lines that deepen when he makes a face like that, "Got wrinkles now. Next time you see me I'll have one of them walkin' sticks." If they're gonna make meeting every decade a habit. His mouth quirks, a sort-of olive branch. Trent's always been too soft, and age hasn't hardened him none, bares the soft underbelly like a dog on his back, preening for a little bit of affection. His head cocks, a little sad about, because those two sentiments are true for him too: that he'd know Zaire anywhere, that he didn't think he'd ever see him again. "You imagined it then?" Me, he doesn't say. "Does it live up to what was in your head?"

Poem by Denis Johnson

Cassell keeps on staring because he has an excuse now. His eyes are heavy and his chests gone all warm. He doesn't care if Trent calls him out he's got an answer for everything locked and loaded. Now he's just got to hope he can remember it if he needs to. "Everyone." Cas repeats back but he sort of already forgets what they're talking about. Zodiac signs and crying he thinks. "Surprised you know it's a bull." He admits honestly but there's pleasure glinting in his gaze that he does. Cas had also thought it was prophetic too and he carries it close to his chest. Trent's sucky boy face makes Cas want to coo at him. Something high pitched and sweet he'd use on a dog or one of his teammates babies. "Did we say that? I don't remember that part. Can we go lay down at least?"

"I know things." He says, with an uncharacteristically smug smile on his mouth. Half the bulls in the pens over the years wear named Taurus. And it was the name of maybe one of the greatest Monster Trucks in history, and it wasn't why he got his Silverado but...the driver, Jack-something, didn't believe in zodiac signs. "You did." He insists, but he's not quite sure either. Trent hauls himself up from the couch, and his limbs feel a little heavy, like he's getting out of a pool with all his clothes on. He pulls Cas up without really thinking, because thinks that Cas's limbs might also feel heavy, though he's not sure because maybe Cas smokes more. Then he pads back into his apartment, intentionally to his own room, because he's scared to see if the guest room bed even has sheets on it, and if it doesn't he doesn't want to deal with it right now. Just needs a few minutes, he thinks sprawls across the mattress.

oh, shit. part of jay was hoping that they hadn't met before, if only because his best guess is now that this guy was a hook-up from who knows how long ago — more importantly, who knows how drunk ago. or high, or even more ( upsettingly ) likely, both. he comes to this conclusion primarily based on how attracted he is to him, and trent won't know it from his expression, but whatever he's doing is working. the longer he looks at him, the more blips of memories; sights of that face, ghost sensations of those lips on him. "...i think we hooked up," he says abruptly, eyebrows shot up, head tilting the other way now. "i know your face. fuckin' gorgeous. name... not so much. remind me?"

A smile wobbles on his mouth, a slow nod to pair. "Yeah." Trent's not trying to feel any sort of way about it, but he's sober and raw-dogging an interaction he's usually on the other end of. He inhales a heaping breath, resets. "You don't gotta do that. Flatter me." Trent insists. "Trent." He supplies, before dapping him up because what else is he going to do with a guy who forgot they had sex? Try and sleep with him again? Well, probably. Because now he feels like he's got something to prove. "So how you been Jay?" Says their name just so he knows that he knows.

He doesn't sound opposed to this at all, actually. "you're so desperate. that's what's cute."

"you are excited."

His legs kick open, and his hips grind down into the couch cushions some, because he wasn't lying when he'd said it's been a while. His cheeks have a warm, a couple drinks in, flush to them, her laugh lilting. He sits up for a moment, just to reach for her, hand cradling the nape of her neck, pushing her face up against the hard outline of his dick. "You like that?" Trent asks. The friction of her face up against his jeans isn't unpleasant, at least not yet. He sort of likes it, makes it last longer. He wants her like this as long as possible.

"Do you want to? You pick." Levi says it as if he's this sweet boyfriend offering just the best for his girlfriend. A treat for the two of them. "You wanna get drunk and drown in the hot tub." Levi sighs softly. He wants to drink and drown in the hot tub. It would serve him right for the hotel staff to find his body floating in the morning. "I have a few cards." Levi reaches his hand into the cupholder and pulls out one of the teeth. Turns it over in his fingers before he glances at Trent. "You'd swallow this if I told you to right?"

"We'll wear the robes, and order room service, and maybe kiss some more." He lists off in a sing-song voice, a version that doesn't feel like them now but once was, and if he pretends hard enough it will be. He wants it to be. They should pay cash. Trent doesn't have any. Levi's much better with his money than Trent is, probably because Levi doesn't spend his own. He glances at the tooth, the way it glints under the reach of white headlights cast from cars cruising down the opposite side of the freeway. He doesn't realize he's not smiling anymore, a small furrow in his brow, confused. "Maybe. Only if you wanted me to." It makes more sense to do something because Levi wants him to, rather than doing something just because he tells him to.