there isn't enough talk about the burger scene and the possibilities of it .
after the shooting, the entire place smells like iron , the air is thick with the heat expelling from bodies . it's pressing — no air conditioner in sight , the grills already turned on to preheat, friers already making the oil gurgle .
randy feels sick from that already , but the taste of rot lingers in his mouth and clings to the backs of his teeth like a velvety, fuzzy blanket . no matter how often his tongue dances across the same spots, it always feels like there is something stuck there, still .
the sickness builds slow , and before he knows it — before Benson even gets to raise his hand to count up to ten — he can feel himself gagging, wretching . an instant burn at the back of his throat, a wash of acid , but nothing wants to come out .
when randy does move, it's not towards benson but rather the bathroom . he's stumbling like an ill deer , swaying on his feet , trembling hand with the crescent shaped marks of his nails clutched across his mouth .
benson understands the sickness , understands what randy just saw — but he's pumped up on adrenaline and the high of a predator so when randy seemingly runs , he follows. slots himself into that small employee's bathroom with him . watches him gag three , four times and get out nothing but spit and snot and salty tears . randy is white knuckling the toilet like his life depends on it, forehead shiny with sweat.
there is no hair to hold back, but benson fits his palm against that patch of skin and brushes back those mousy blond strands , tries to soothe him with the repetitive circling of his thumb .
after the tenth gag and nothing coming out, randy not moving but only whimpering like an abused thing , he finally cups him underneath his jaw . pries his mouth wide open with the other hand — feeling his teeth first, the wet wriggle of his tongue — before he plunges digits further inside . the boy writhes like an eel, claws those nails into his wrist and benson thinks the next thing he's gotta do is declaw him .
first, though . . he is pumping those fingers into his mouth in terribly slow strokes , pressing against the back of his throat until the wretching becomes more violent , full body ripples that make randy curl together and over the bowl .
when he finally manages to get it out , bent over like a devotee and still connected to benson's fingertips with a string of spit .