a gun to a knife fight

She’d never been a fan of the gaudy, stereotypical ‘look’ of a psychic and their business - but it was a carnival, the gimmick sold well; people bought into it in all their excitement. That was what made her ‘business’ so easy - her usual customers weren’t skeptics; they were excited, eager, willing to believe. “I’m not,” Annabel agreed once she had ushered the last customer out with a pat on the back - pulling the beer from his hand, “I’m more of a wine person - but beer is fine, too.” she paused to open the bottle - beak of her cane’s swan head serving as her bottle opener, “I can make time - come in, make yourself comfortable if that’s even … possible, Christ, you practically radiate tension. Not that I blame you but - shit’s dense.”

“Wine,” he repeated, watching with curious eyes as she seemed to move with ease to open the beer bottle. It felt like everything about Annabel came easy to her, and the impressive part was that it was obvious there were some things that just didn’t, and yet she still gave off a confident demeanour that Gunner all but worshipped, “Red or white? I haven’t tried wine since I was 10. My mom said it was an acquired taste, probably liked it when I’m older, but. Can’t imagine that being true,” Gunner couldn’t help but flush somewhat when Anna called him out for being so noticeably tense. It was usually something he couldn’t help anyway, but generally, he was better than this, “Sorry,” he said quickly, an automatic knee-jerk reaction, “it’s been... a week,” Once she ushered him inside the same way she’d just maneuvered someone out, Gunner sat slowly in one of the many cushioned chairs surrounding them, an amused grin appearing despite his current attitude, “They really went... the whole nine yards, huh? Bit gimmicky, honestly.”

Letting out a delirious breath of laughter at Gunner’s decline, acting like he’d been offered a mouldy cube of cheese to test at a supermarket, Lana set her hands against the railing and braced herself for what was inevitably going to be a painful experience – like pulling teeth, if she wanted a proper conversation. Limbs struck with such an excess of energy that she couldn’t help but fidget, she’d slipped into an idle bounce of her foot, one leg slung over the other, that she didn’t even notice until he objected to the sway of motion. “…Oh,” she realised, straightening slightly and actually doing the opposite – the cart jostled with the attempt to compose. “Oops. Sorry. Thrashing around like a shark’s eating me from the ass up, underwater. The sexy Jaws sequel no-one was prepared for.” Lips stuck with a grin that was extra wide, probably down to nerves, Lana cleared her throat and made an effort to remain as still as possible. In fact, she almost did too good of a job, managing to look like a waxwork celebrity from Madame Tussaud’s within seconds. “This, um… okay?” she tested, voice tentative, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of him as her head remained in place, adamant not to turn in case it prompted any kind of swing. It was completely ridiculous, but she was a little too high to comprehend how she was supposed to react. “Don’t want you to throw up, or anything.” Slipping into an idle hum below her breath, one that apparently followed no particular tune, she tapped her fingers against the rail beneath them, metal resounding with a few mute clangs. “Was that, um… Jack, you were with?” It was an attempt to start up some kind of friendly conversation, one that she didn’t realise was probably hideously misguided, for the eggshells it was crunching underfoot. “He’s cool. Pretty funny, and stuff. Kudos, on the company! Would salute you, but don’t wanna… swing the cart about again, so. Yeah.” Apologetic smile springing to action, her eyes flit elsewhere from his face, finally becoming a little less rigid as she investigated the lights of the carnival. “Did you come with him? Or, like… Benji, or someone?”

Had Gunner been raised to be more socially aware, he probably would’ve realized that maybe he was being just a bit rude to Lana. He wasn’t always mean to her - in his head, at least. When they’d first started getting to know each other, he could admit he even had a small crush - she was beautiful, noticeably so, and far more patient with him than most people would be when he didn’t know the proper response to simple questions. However it took no time at all to become increasingly overwhelmed. He’d never been too good at handling himself around any Jane Doe in general, someone as eccentric as Lana all but had Gunner crawling out of his skin trying to keep up with her at every corner, “You don’t - I mean, you can breathe you know,” he assured her, brows furrowing in mild confusion when he noticed the way she’d gone stiff as a board unironically, “It’s fine. This is good. Thanks.” Lana bringing up Jack felt like dangerous territory. Hands clasped together and resting on the bar strapping them down, Gunner nodded once, as if that would suffice. Hoping it would suffice, if anything, but he should’ve figured that Lana wouldn’t realize the way he’d held his breath, suddenly the one stock still moments after her question, “Yeah, funny. I guess. And cool. You know him well? You should get to know him. We didn’t, like - he’s single and... whatever. You should get to know him,” he repeated, unable to keep himself from completely shoving his entire foot in his mouth as he continued with his somewhat panicked rambling, “You both kinda get around a lot so I say go for it,” Finally, that caused Gunner to physically cringe, turning his head completely away from Lana so he could mouth what the fuck into the open air beside him, clearing his throat in an attempt to recover, “Sorry, not - not that. I didn’t mean it like that, sorry. I just mean - he is cool and funny, so,” he felt a bit weird, offering up Jack to Lana like he was nothing more than a bone she was desperate to chew on. Not to mention the way his stomach shifted uncomfortably at the thought alone, cheeks flushing as he could just imagine how much Jack would love it if Lana made a pass at him, blurting out in the next moment, “Actually. Maybe not. I think he’s - Benji? Yes. Saw him earlier. You’re seeing him aren’t you? That’s... a way better choice. Benji’s the best and Jack drinks shitty beer. But yeah, came with him. Benji. I came - I showed up with Benji. Have you seen him yet?”

“I’m sickened you’d ask me something like that,” he said, eyeing the cotton candy like it was a weapon and not a carnival treat. “If I wanted to eat dust, I’d sleep in my attic.” Benji was sprawled on the grass next to the gazebo, imagining bugs crawling under his neck but unable to move and do something about it. This was the kind of stoned he usually reserved for at home, by himself, where he could zone out for hours and no one would be alarmed. “I’m not convinced that if I move, I won’t shit myself,” he admitted. Tilting his head just enough to look at Gunner, he shook his head. “Man… I don’t know. Think he’s been that way with everyone. Also kinda scary how radio silent his Twitter has been, honestly,” he said. “But if your brother kills you, can I have your Steam controller? Mine’s on its way out,” he joked, exhaling softly. “Have you talked to Caleb about it? Maybe he’s just… The stuff with… with Wyatt’s probably fucking with him a bit.”

“It doesn’t... taste like dust, what’re you talking about?” To prove a point, even though he’d been growing increasingly nauseous, Gunner tore off an extra-large piece and shoved the entire bite into his mouth. Blinking once at the out of place statement, it felt like Gunner and Benji were having an accidental staring contest before he realized he was supposed to actually reply to that, finally blurting, “Well why the hell do you feel like that?” The mention of Caleb had Gunner pressing his lips into a tight, unimpressed line. At this point, he didn’t have much of a problem with Caleb, felt like they were mostly past that, but talking to him about Elias felt... out of place in Gunner’s mind. “You get nothing from me when I die. Talking to Caleb feels... weird. About Elias, I mean. Actually no, in general. I - I don’t know, maybe I will. Talking to anyone but Eli about Wyatt feels whack as shit, but. I don’t know guess I’ll bring it up, can’t hurt, I guess. Send any more dick pics to your gal pal?” The sudden change in topic was startling, even for Gunner, but mostly an act of subtle desperation.

Jack didn’t realize how tightly he was squeezing the beer bottle in his hand until he finally loosened his grip, having to flex his fingers to keep them from locking up. He shouldn’t have been nervous. He already felt like he knew where this conversation was going to go, and he’d been attempting to come to terms with it for far longer than he had been sitting in Gunner’s bedroom. “Paxton, I didn’t care about the guy’s mirror.” His words were stern, followed by a grunt to clear his throat. He felt like there were words trapped there, stuck somewhere behind his lips, dying to be let out. “I tried to ask you about.. you know. Your hand or whatever.” He pointed to the still scraped knuckles. “But you didn’t answer. You must have a mean left hook, think Coach B would have wanted you on the team if he saw what you left behind.” Jack didn’t know how else to talk about it, about everything. He didn’t know how to have a conversation with Gunner that wasn’t NORMAL. That didn’t center around their lives, around everything they knew about each other. “Sorry, I’ll– I won’t mention the bathroom anymore.” He didn’t truthfully know why they were both apologizing so much. Jack hadn’t been hurt, not really. He’d just been scared. For perhaps the first time in years, he’d found something to be afraid of, something so out of his control that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it together. He tried not to notice the way Gunner’s ears burned with his question. He hadn’t wanted to embarrass him, he hated making the other boy feel small around him. It was the last thing he wanted, truly. Jack had been expecting the answer he received; all he could do was nod for a moment– one short and silent moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity and then some. “No wonder you’re– I wouldn’t have.. If I had known I mean..” But wouldn’t he have? It didn’t change anything, not for Jack. It was hard for him to focus on something so trivial when his heart was pounding in his ears and his breaths were racking his entire chest. “No. No, that’s not– That’s not true. I still would have, if I had known. I don’t know if that.. if that makes me a dick. Not regretting it.” Maybe it was selfish, but Jack had the hardest time with temptation. He tugged gently at the beer of Gunner’s they were still holding on to, like he was using it as a lead, afraid if he touched Gunner, his skin, that it might burn. “I think you know that it was fine with me. More than fine. I’d do it all over again, if I could. But that’s me.” His eyes narrowed with his furrowed brow. “What are you thinking right now? You’re always so hard to read.”

Frowning dramatically, Elias restlessly bounced on the balls of his feet. “Ooh, what kinda pill?” he asked, eyes expectant. “You’re just a pussy, Gunner. You can grow out of it!” he said in his best fatherly impression, placing a hand on his chest for a moment, eyes wide. “Oof. Thought I was having a heart attack for a moment, but false alarm,” he continued, leaning obnoxiously on the other’s shoulder as he glanced over at the bouncer still lingering near the entrance. “What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowing. “You look weird.”

“Viagra,” he blurted, the joke feeling funny in the moment, but as soon as it actually was expelled from his mouth Gunner cringed, realizing maybe he should’ve thought that one through a bit more, “Not Viagra. It was M. I think. I’m... honestly not really sure,” Ignoring his brother’s words - probably for the best, considering annoyed jokes that went too far was the reason they’d had it out for each other last time around - Gunner’s gaze follow Elias’ and landed on the bouncer, feet spreading automatically to support the weight of Elias leaning on him, “Why’re you staring? What’s wrong?” he asked at the same time Elias had, “What? Weird how? Nothing’s... even wrong. I’m fine. Just high.”

Lana had been about to board the Ferris wheel with a boy from her class, one who insisted on buying her a ticket to ride, when the attendant ushered him forwards to keep a lone straggler company and fill up the pair. Letting out a noise of exclamation as he was buckled in, it looked a little like someone from The 100 being sucked out through the space vacuum, the way it lurched backwards as his legs kicked up a fuss, trying to protest their separation. She would have laughed, the kind of full bellied cackle where you tipped your head back and your ribs ached with it, if she wasn’t nudged by the small of her back into the next cart. “Oh, it’s cool, I’ll just wait,” she attempted, although it seemed to go in one ear and out of the other. Since he’d unsettled the couplings in the queue, Gunner got shoved up next, split from whoever he’d been waiting with and urged into the seat besides her. Mouth gaping, the bar came down and their cart shunted back, starting the slow rise towards the top of the wheel before she could even blink. “Wow,” she started casually, eyeing him besides her with the full knowledge that he was probably considering chucking himself off the highest point if she so much as said hello. “Feel like we’ve been torn out of our homes and sent to the orphanage. About to start shrieking for my papa.” @gunnerpaxton

“It’s definitely not good,” Gunner continues, way too into the topic even though Jack had asked him how the remake of Child’s Play was almost 20 minutes ago now, “I appreciate that they were willing to... take a risk, I guess. Most remake’s these days are total shit, so they didn’t have much competition. God, I hope one of my classes next semester covers this. Feel like my brain’ll melt if -,” Stumbling over his own feet when Gunner was grabbed at by the elbow and tugged towards the Ferris wheel, he let out an embarrassing squawk as he attempted to right himself before completely tumbling over, “Shit. Rush hour -,” Blinking when he noticed Jack still standing by the front of the gate instead of beside Gunner, his gaze shifted so that he was finally taking in that it was Lana beside him now, nose wrinkling of its own accord at the realization, “Uh. No thanks,” he started, turning awkwardly so that he could make an exit before finding himself stuck on the Ferris wheel and forced into whatever Lana’s excessive version of small talk was. Apparently, it wasn’t Gunner’s lucky day, blocked from the exit by the person who’d tossed him towards their cart in the first place and shooing him towards the now open one waiting for them, “Jesus. Alright,” Flashing Lana a smile as he nudged in beside her that probably showed just how thrilled he was on be on, Gunner cleared his throat and mumbled a quick, “Uh, if you just - I don’t like when people rock these. Makes me all nervous and nauseous, so. Yeah.”

“Okay! Okay okay, Jesus! Arm!” he practically shrieked as a bouncer dragged him out of the beer tent, aggressively shoving him out. “We see you back in here, we’ll ban you from the event entirely.” Gasping dramatically, he turned to speak to someone he’s knocked into during his less-than-graceful exit. “Can you believe this guy? Thinks he can ban a citizen from town square,” he said, squinting at the shorter figure as he took in Gunner’s face. “Wonderful. I’ll take my lashings on my palms this time, sir,” he said, hands out to further berate him. “You’re looking extra glum. Want a line? I hate coke because I like… shit myself, but I ran into Blake earlier and it was a desperate time.” @gunnerpaxton

Embarrassingly enough, Gunner still seemed to be of a lightweight in every field of the word. Eyes all but bugging out of his head, his daydream being interrupted by someone all but being tossed into him usually would’ve bothered him a fair deal. Instead, he merely patted at the other’s arm, as if they’d landed on the ground and muddied it up instead of using Gunner to balance, “Okay,” he mumbled, high fiving his brother when he held his palms out towards Gunner, “Glum? Think that’s just my face, to be honest. The look’s called perma-depression,” the mention of line’s was more appealing than not at this point, but it still had Gunner’s brows furrowing in thought, his shrug attempting to feign something more casual than what he was really feeling, “I don’t know, I... already took a pill. Feel like if I mix my heart’ll explode on the spot. I think my body’s.. weaker than the average or something.”

@parklevi: edit there WILL be fireworks but they WILL NOT be spelling his name no matter how much anyone begs!

@gunnerpaxton: @parklevi if the fyre festival guy was willing to suck dick for WATER i think you can arrange something for some fireworks levi.

@gunnerpaxton: @romykelso https://66.media.tumblr.com/fd8773efddeb27ca9eefd4487f0ab438/tumblr_pd6cl8M6Lx1sof983_540.png

“Fatherly energy?” Jack scoffed, fighting a smile as he moved to flip Gunner off. “I’m cool. I’m COOL. Kind of worried you’re going to accidentally call me Daddy now. That’d change this conversation a bit.” Just as the words left his mouth, he watched helplessly as Gunner tripped onto the bed. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, sturdy him, maybe even catch the bottle before the inevitable happened, but he felt rooted to the spot. The same nerves that had Gunner spasming with energy kept him bound tightly together. Two sides of the same coin. “Sounds dangerous. Talk about giving me a complex. Imagine the rest of you if you’re that tall..” He started to laugh but it somehow turned into a cough on the way out, and he was clearing his throat before he could keep at the easy dialogue. His eyes trailed Gunner’s face, finally allowing himself to properly look at him for the first time since arriving at his door. He’d been deprived of the sight, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was drinking in every detail. Each crook in Gunner’s nose, each out of place strand of hair, the pursed line of his lips. He couldn’t look too long at those, he’d get lost. “Most people can be into a kiss,” Jack responded quietly, finally looking down at his own beer clutched between white knuckles. “Think I got the idea from the whole.. After part.” He didn’t want to have to explain what they both already knew, how Jack had been told Gunner had exited the party with bleeding fists and left behind only the remains of what once was a bathroom mirror. How Jack had thrown up in a house plant after hearing it, gone home with some guy whose name he hadn’t even bothered with. The real Jack, he feared. The one who didn’t call, who didn’t care. Who wasn’t built to feel things properly anymore. Taking a steadying breath, he placed a hand over the top of Gunner’s beer to keep it still, his thumb barely touching the rest of Gunner’s hand, careful not to get too close. “Paxton,” he muttered. “Have you– Was I the first?” He didn’t need to finish the sentence, it hung in the air in bold. Boy. To Jack, it meant little, but his stomach clenched at what it might mean to Gunner, what it could possibly imply. His chest ached.

Out of the corner of his eye, he knew that Jack was glancing at him. Staring, the way he did. Without it feeling like Gunner was being interrogated, without making him squirm uncomfortably whenever anyone else did the same. He never really knew what the other saw that warranted a gaze to linger for that long, but Gunner was too selfish to ever say anything about it now. Freezing momentarily, Gunner’s cheeks flushed with humiliation when Jack mentioned the after of their kiss in the basement. If you looked hard enough, there were still several tiny cuts and scars that would probably stay white and puckered along the surface of Gunner’s skin for the rest of his life, all because he couldn’t pull himself together and just admit he liked a boy. It felt stupid now, but there was still a jolt of mild panic that sprouted from his stomach and ebbed into his veins at the thought, “Sorry,” he whispered, unable to even face Jack when he whispered the apology, “I didn’t mean to... freak you out. I didn’t even - honestly, I didn’t realize I basically... trashed the dude’s washroom until after, y’know? Felt like I was in some weird trance. I haven’t pulled a stunt like that since high school,” As if that were a viable excuse. If anything, it made Gunner feel even worse. A short, sharp inhale escaped Gunner when Jack’s grip landed on the top of his beer, a shiver running through his spine even though their skin was barely grazing. He was obviously gifting Gunner with space, and the notion made something twist in his stomach. Whenever Jack was close like this without properly touching, there was always going to be a part of Gunner screaming louder than what he assumed was the logical part happy for the space, a part of him that wanted to snap and tell the other he didn’t want to be treated delicately. To just touch him and they could deal with it after. Not that that mindset had done too well for them in the past. Jack’s question only managed to make him feel even more moronic - he suddenly felt all too young and inexperienced. Right after his cheeks had stopped flushing, they burned bright red again, shrugging in a way that he hoped was casual, “Uh, I guess so? I mean - well, yeah. Yeah, first, but. I don’t know, don’t... freak out or anything. It’s - it’s not like. Not like you took my fuckin’ virginity or something. It’s fine, it’s - it’s fine,” he insisted, finally moving from his spot to stand again, like he was going to burst out of his skin if he sat restless for too long, “Unless it’s not?” Gunner’s back was basically to Jack as he spoke, the small fear still gnawing at the back of his mind that maybe it wasn’t good for the other. Maybe Gunner had been too eager, came across like the blushing virgin he was insisting he wasn’t, all hands, and tongue, and teeth, without any real finesse.