'CHAPS ROUND YOUR WAIST

There's always something so tooth achingly sweet about Trent even if Levi's got no issues getting mad at him. When the elevator doors open he pushes Trent out by his shoulder and doesn't wait for him. "You're funny." Levi tells him as he quickly finds their hotel room and uses the key to shove open the door.

"You're makin' fun of me." He comments, though he's not sure if that's true. He follows after him down the hallway, content. Inside the room, his body hums with excitement. "It's like we're on vacation." Or on their honeymoon.

"maybe i mean it," considering the predicament they're in here — this is a tough sell, jay knows. this is as far as they'll push it though, and they hesitate a second before indulging in the dap up, nose scrunched and smile restraining from really becoming something obnoxious. he can't withhold the laugh at breaks at his name drop, his chin tipping away, eyes averting, head nodding — he deserves that, he does. "lemme make it up to you, trent. buy you a drink. or? or... enough drinks that you'll forget my name next time."

He's not as good as he should be at holding things over people's heads. If he held onto his grudges a little more tightly, them maybe he'd have fewer heartbreaks, but as it goes, all the bad stuff slides away when held in his palms, as if he were trying to hold water. Trent grins, an innocent excitement creasing the corners of his eyes. He can make a night of this because he can make a night of anything, and Jay really is quite beautiful. "Deal. Shots. I think we should do shots." Trent decides for them both. "And if they're on you, we might as well make 'em double."

"Sure. C'mon." His chest, as it always does around Trent, feels all kinds of fucked up. Crowded with emotions he cannot name. He takes the lead inside and knows it probably looks too sketch for them to walk in empty handed but they've got nothing. He leans against the counter and pulls out Mr. Lin's card as he sets it down on the counter while talking to the pretty thing behind the desk. He holds the key out for Trent to take. "One bed." Levi grins easily.

"It ain't ever two." He sighs, with mock disappointment, swiping the keys from the desk. "Thank you kindly." He nods to the person behind the desk. Tugs at Levi's tank a little harder, urging him to come. He wants to be alone with him again, enclosed in four walls, no outside interference.

"We're here." Levi agrees as he smiles sleepily at Trent before he opens the door and gets out. His legs feel like mush as he leans back against the door he'd shut behind himself. He cranes his neck towards Trent's direction before he swallows down his stupid pride and goes to tug open the drivers side door. He presses right up against him and tugs Trent's face towards his as he presses their mouths together. "I missed you."

"Let's get the room. I wanna keep kissin' you."

Cassell just laughs feeling all sorts of breathless because that's not shocking. Trent's sweet and endearing and Cas knows a lot of people do a lot of shit for him because of that face. That sweet demeanor that people want to treat well. Cas is not bitter he'd use that to his advantage too if he could. He nods in understanding because he'd been picturing someone older. White hair and frail. He doesn't feel like arguing about the semantics of Trent and his future farm that has nothing to do with Cassell at all. "Hey, I might. Let pops retire instead of working for his ungrateful godson." Cas teases with a sleepy grin. Of course if anyone's grateful for everything it's Trent. He's not cold and flippant about things the way Cas is. It's like he's going through life with his eyes wide open taking it all in. He realizes Trent's moving when they stop touching. "It's nice to be alone with your thoughts..." Cas trails off knowing that Trent would not like that shit. "Island air, getting your shit braided on the beach, alone to think about all the shit that doesn't matter." Cassell smiles, "I can do all that Antigua." He has family there for when he's done festering with his thoughts. "That's your pitch Trent? We can work out together? C'mon try somethin' better."

Trent grins, basking in the thought — mostly at the idea of Cas meeting his godfather, seeing two people he cares about together. The idea's so alluring because it's so close to fantasy. He's never taken anybody to meet his pops, and only a handful of people to meet his godfather. It had been so rich, to see it play out before his eyes, that it had been overwhelming. Obviously, those people that he took to meet him were now-exes. "Yeah? You ever been to New Mexico?" Probably not, because no one chooses to go there. When Trent is alone, he thinks about not being alone and who he wants. A sincere smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Cas is so good at being with himself. What he's describing sounds nice, but he wouldn't know. "I would like to be alone with your thoughts. I bet your mind's a real interestin' place to be." Calm. His mouth screws together in thought. "Well, you don't like partyin'." As if gym and party are the only two viable options. "We can do this more. I'll make sure the guest room's actually made up. Promise."

The adrenaline has fully waned and the idea of sleep is alluring. He's still a little afraid to close his eyes and wake up in his bed without Trent. He watches Trent chew the yellow Skittle like it's not the worst. Levi knew that he would. He's sweet and good. He puts the bag of candy over the teeth in the cupholder. "Wake me up when we get to the hotel okay? Don't just sit there in the parking lot waiting for me to get up." He balls Trent's denim jacket in his hand as he shoves it against the window. Levi spares him a glance before squeezing his eyes shut to will away the sting.

Trent turns the engine off. He looks at Levi for a little while, head pressed up against the window, his jacket balled up against the glass. He looks less angry like this. Trent leans over to place a kiss on his neck, then one on his cheek, then one on the corner of his lips. "Levi. We're here." He says softly, trying not to startle him awake.

He sighs, "i got a little turned around, that's all." That doesn't sound all that much better to his ears, but he isn't sure what else he can say. "how many miles is it back to town?" An offer to leave them be.

Luke rearranges their bags to clear a space for the stranger. Comfortable turns quickly to cramped, and sopping wet. Trent tucks his legs close to his chest. He doesn't have a towel to offer or anything. "You good, man?" 

ira shook his head, smiling despite himself as he turned back to the engine. there was something almost infectious about the kid. the kind of person who seemed to experience every thought at full volume and then hand it to whoever happened to be standing nearby. “flowers, huh?” he mused. “well, that’s your second best idea so far. first one’s still admittin’ she was right.” the grin lingered. “though if you show up with flowers and an apology, she’ll probably have to work a little harder to stay mad.” the next bit nearly made him drop the socket in his hand. “lord have mercy.” he laughed again, ducking his head. “you know me for, what, all of twenty minutes and you’re tryin’ to play matchmaker?” he pointed the wrench toward trent without any real menace behind it. “that right there is how people end up on dates wonderin’ why they’re eatin’ appetizers across from a complete stranger.” truth was, ira had gotten that before. not the matchmaking (well, sometimes that too) but the assumption that he had some kind of wisdom tucked away. maybe it was the accent. maybe it was the patience. maybe people saw a man who worked with his hands and assumed he had answers. most days he felt like he was just making educated guesses and hoping for the best. “you ain’t gotta gas me up just ’cause i’m fixin’ your truck.” his smile softened. “but i appreciate it.” then trent protested being a city boy, and ira gave him a long look. a very long look. “uh huh.” his eyes drifted deliberately over the expensive boots, the clean shirt, and the phone that probably costed more than ira’s toolbox payment. “whatever helps you sleep at night, city boy.” the coffee question earned an approving nod. “two sugars. little cream.” he paused. “not enough to hide the taste. just enough to convince myself i ain’t makin’ a mistake.” then he leaned back into the engine bay, voice carrying after him. “and if i come back out here in ten minutes and catch you callin’ your ex again, i’m disconnectin’ your battery on principle.” a beat. “not as a mechanic, but as a concerned citizen.” the threat was undermined completely by the laugh that followed. he didn’t even look up from the engine, but there was amusement written all over him now. somehow, against all odds, a busted radiator and a lovesick customer had turned his afternoon into something a little less ordinary.

It's fine, he thinks, as he saunters back to the garage, drinks in tow. Mr. Mechanic's gonna get his truck in working order and he'll drive over. It's chill. "Hey, what's your name by the way?" 

Cas ties his best to shrug laying down and knocks his shoulder into Trent. He knew that he would. It's a sweet sound but it doesn't make you feel special cause you know Trent's ass be giving it away. "Ohh so you just gunna make him do all the work and you get to show up in the off season? Slick." Cassell can't help but laugh. It doesn't surprise him that Trent would have all these ideas unrelated to ball. Cas' brain doesn't work like that. This is the first time in a long time he let himself do even this much out of his regiment. He lifts his gaze to watch Trent's face wondering why the fuck he needs to buy a ranch right now. Can't he ever just stick to the program? "How old is your god father? Gunna have gramps plowing the fucking fields is crazy." He huffs out. "I sure fuckin' don't." Cassell agrees with a bright smile. He always has ways to say nothing at all. He does like to find himself on an island for a little bit. Take it in and relax then get back to the city for training and conditioning. "Myself. I need to get away from everyone and everything." Cas can't remember the last time he saw Trent go anywhere that wasn't some bootleg club plastered on his finsta. "Now why are you worried about what my vacation entails? Gunna be horseback ridin' on your acres soon enough."

"Yeah, but he likes doin' stuff for me." Trent's spoiled, the way all only children are. Coming into the league late, which really is just the equivalent of doing all four years of college, meant he had a whole life before this. It's different to most of the guys here, primed and preened by cracked courts and painstaking clinics. He's no less competitive, if only because he needs, so desperately, to help his teammates get what they want. He'll do anything for them. Their wants have become his own. So, yeah, he's not looking to start his vacation early. "Think he's like fifty?" Really, it's a pipe dream, his godfather's pretty adamant about Trent buying property where he lives in New Mexico, not the other way around. "You gon' be the one to tell him his ass too old for all that?" He counters, and if so, Trent would like to see it. He sits up fully, cross-legged on the bed looking down at Cas, who looks like he might be somewhere far away right now. Trent stares with a cocked head, unsure and confused. "Why?" Get away from everyone and everything, alone, that sounds like his own personal opposite of heaven. He fixes his gaze on the strip of exposed skin from where Cas's shirt has ridden up and wonders what it would Cas would do if Trent were to slip a hand under the waistband of his trousers. "Jus' wonderin'. Don't be a stranger in the summer. We can workout together."

He approaches slow, then, unsure how one knocks on a tent, ends up grasping it and giving the whole tent a small shake before speaking up loud over the rain, "got room for one more in there?"

Trent sit up, the voice muffled but normal-enough sounding. But who starts with 'Got room from one more?' They do. It'll be tight squeeze, but they do and he can't lie. "Pretty late to be hikin' back down, man." He says through the still-zipped tent. "You get lost or somethin'?"

Is there any reason he should even be allowed to feel irritation? Should he keep digging and prying until Trent spells it out for him? He doesn't speaks as he takes out a yellow Skittle, the worst one, and presses it to Trent's lips. There's nothing to say.

Something tightens in his stomach hearing Levi's phone, remembering the world exists outside of them two. He's still holding his hand. It looks innocent, framed against Levi's thigh, separate from the rest of them. He peeks at the Skittle, yellow, the worst one, before parting his mouth. Chews on it until there's nothing left to swallow except his own sugar-tinged spit. "You can sleep if you want. I'll wake you."

"That is objectively not true. I've heard them." Cas can't even entertain that for a second too long and no weed is too strong to keep him from defending his comedic skills. Trent would laugh anything if it was nice enough to him. And he knows the others laughed at shit no one else would think is funny to fill the silence. "You're just generous. That's all." He shakes his head mostly to himself cause there's no arguing with Trent really, not sober or high, Cas always gotta be right too in the end. "Okay. Sure. How you gunna ball and be a ranch hand?" He asks with genuine curiosity. He tips his head over to peak at Trent and wonders what he's thinking. His pout is saying enough though and Cassell hopes it's the weed making him feel all that shit. Cas knows it's not because Trent always feels everything ten fold in ways he never understood. "You could have both." He nods along because that's true enough. Nothing to argue even if he wanted to. "What's that matter? Check my stories in a few weeks."

"I'll take the compliment." It's not untrue, Trent is generous with his laughter mostly because he finds everyone funny. He can be heard down the hallways, in the dead silent, sleeping bus when he's in a flow state of scrolling Instagram reels. Even now, he could probably make himself laugh, but that could be the weed. "I ain't gonna be a ranch hand." He says, like it's obvious. But he's forgotten the land needs taking care of, and so do animals. "Imma get my godfather to come down and take care of it." Unbeknownst to his godfather. Trent's just spitballing. He turns back on his side, again, squirmy. "You never give a straight answer to nothin'." He can imagine Cas somewhere far away, at ease in the unfamilar. Truthfully, Trent's only ever spent his summers home, sees pops and spend a few weeks with Luke before they go up to Atlanta to see Kiana. With the money he's got he should probably be takin' them international, but they don't ask and he doesn't offer. "Who you gon' go with?"

"You didn't know what else to do?" Levi's suspicion is all over his face. He knows if he thinks too hard it'll cause problems he does not want to dig up right now. What's the point in digging up the corpses from their past when he has Trent right here? "You found me almost predictably. Where did you sleep last night?" And with who? Who. Who. Who. Levi wants to keep Trent's tooth next.

They can cross state lines in an hour tops. Trent has a vision of a five-star hotel in the middle of nowhere, which probably doesn't exist. The thought of abandoning one city just to immerse them in the throes of another doesn't seem right. "I was stayin' with a friend." A beat. "Didn't you say you were gon' feed me Skittles?"