break them down

you can just about hear the groan that leaves bash’s lips when the hand lands on his shoulder and when he can hear will’s voice. he still can’t figure out whether he’s glad that his mom invited him or not—he should be, right? he’s trying with will (whatever the hell that means) so he should appreciate the opportunity to hang with him. but it’s hard to do it with the rest of the club around—will feels like a walking target and bash isn’t sure how wise it is to be around him right now. he opens his mouth to say something but he’s sort of at a loss. nico, whom he’s just been talking to, gives him a look. bash just sighs and nods so the other man leaves them alone. a look and a nod, that’s all it takes for them to understand each other at this point. “don’t think you’re gonna be very welcome, man,” he replies; home’s neutral and everyone’s keeping it civil, at the risk of his mom kicking up a storm. lucky’s another story. lucky’s theirs. “and i’m pretty sure we’d mind.” bash shakes off will’s hand and takes a step backward, to get some distance in between them. “can’t you play nice for a single afternoon? i don’t need you running around pissing people off.” and who’s to say he hasn’t already. “listen—” bash pauses so he can let out another exasperated sigh, “i’m glad you’re here, i am. but you gotta behave. and no afterparty for you, got it?”

Mischievous eyes bounce between Nico and Bash, taking in their silent understanding nod to each other with the enthusiasm of a fangirl watching a tv show. “Whoa,” Will teasingly chimes in as Nico disappears, “now that’s what I call a bromance. Or is it a romance? You can share with me, I love a good love story,” truthfully, he’s a little jealous there’s someone in Bash’s life who understands him without words. It’s just another thing Bash has that Will doesn’t. The teasing enthusiasm dips as Bash responds with a resounding no. It only worsens when he shrugs the hand off his shoulder and treats Will like an annoying younger brother. Which, he is, but that doesn’t mean he’s gotta be all condescending about it. “Seriously bro? You’re buyin’ into all that Silver Casket crap tonight, still?” maybe he shouldn’t make fun of his so called “family’s” gang on his birthday, but to not even be invited stings. Gang wars or not. Will takes a frustrated swig of his beer, fist around the neck of the bottle, alcohol mixing in with his annoyance. A bad combo. “Whatever man, I’m always on my best behaviour,” he’s not, “forgive me for tryna bond with my brother.” Conveniently, Bash is only Will’s brother when he wants something from him.

He hasn’t seen what his face looks like yet, but he can feel it. the sting on his mouth, his inability to peer out of one, swollen eye. then there’s his hand, which he can’t even flex without pain shooting up his arm. Will is royally fucked, and it doesn’t take a doctor for him to know that. But it goes beyond the physical; he knows any moment someone higher up than his stupid ass is gonna come into his hospital room and squawk at him for getting into this mess in the first place. And for - possibly - adding fuel to the fire. 

It was just another day at Mama’s Kitchen, busy as ever and Aurora had been assigned the afternoon shift. The lunch rush were upon them and they were a bit short staffed thanks to some call offs on the waitresses. But, she could handle it….for the most part. None of this was new to Aurora, demanding customers one of them. She turns around when she hears a familiar voice, eyes instantly rolling when she realizes it’s Will. He wanted something free, again? “You already got a slice of pie on the house last time you were here. We’d be more than happy to get you another piece, but you still have to pay full price for it,” she replied. 

The pie isn’t dry. Will doesn’t even want free pie at all – or well, he’ll take it, but he doesn’t need it. Really, he’s just looking for little ways to annoy the hell out of the waitress. “Yeah but, maybe you guys should stop selling such dry pie, and I’ll start actually paying,” still, he shovels more into his mouth, continuing talking, “you know, actually, maybe I’ll just take a free coffee to wash it all down. Just don’t put too much of that uh… cream shit in it this time, okay?”  Will nods to her, as though he doesn’t expect any rebuttals, and proceeds to suck a stray piece of pie filling off his thumb. 

Another fight, another make-up, and another day Will was here to grace his presence with a swiped snack and some snark. Valencia knew how he was, and that this was just friendly banter for him. However, she knew that at the very least he could keep his comments to himself, or “shut the fuck up” like the mantra she repeated in her head. Wordlessly, she grabbed (more like snatched) the Cheetos bag and popped one in her mouth before she went back to stirring the curry she was making. “First of all-” She banged the spoon against the metal pot, trying to get the chunks of potato back into the simmering stew. “-He’s not my sugar daddy, you know that. Second, I’m not selling my soul. As you can see, I’m completely fine and cared for thank you very much; and this-” She swirled her spoon in the air, referring to the place around them. “- is the perk. Don’t you think I’d buy myself an xbox if I really wanted one? Sorry I prefer my gifts in investments rather than toys.” Valencia felt like it was fair to at least get one jab in. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you’d rather eat instead of talk. Food’s almost done.”

...

They’ve had variations of this conversation before, almost every week. That doesn’t mean Will won’t make the same points, over and over, nor will he give up his relentless quest to make Valencia see she doesn’t need nobody, especially not this guy and his bank account. “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…” he trails off, giving her another very pointed look from his spot on her couch before quickly jumping up at the word food. V’s cooking beats the freshly shop lifted Cheetos he’d brought as an apology. Will steps into the kitchen, pulling out plates for himself and his best friend, setting them down beside her before leaning against the counter. Sometimes he’s well behaved.  Then he opens his mouth again. “What do you mean investments?” his eyes narrow, ”I don’t think getting your hair and nails done counts as an investment, V, but go off.” Will jokes, sticking a finger along the hot edge of the pot, impatiently trying to get a taste, “you know, with this new gig I’ve got, I could start helping you out, too.”

(STEPHAN JAMES, TWENTY EIGHT, CISMALE, HE/HIM. ) WILL JEFFRIES has been living in Clayton, Georgia for A YEAR. They are a PROSPECT FOR BLAZING PHOENIXS and currently working as a STACKER at FOOD DONKEY. They are known to be EXPLOSIVE & IMMATURE, but also known to be LIVELY & GENEROUS. I hope you are enjoying their time in Clayton, there is no place quite like home. ( egg, 24, aest, she/her. )  

tl;dr: half brother to bash mcknight, has a short fuse n rlly just wants  to be part of something  tw: violence, brief allusions to depression