Title: The Way Things Are
Author: Paula K.
Fandom: Knockaround Guys
Pairing: Matty / Taylor
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Characters belong to writers Brian Koppelman and
David Levien.
Warnings, Spoilers and/or Author's Notes: big time movie spoilers -
after Matty's meeting with Sheriff Decker and before they go get the
guns, Taylor gives Matty some attention.
The Way Things Are
Taylor led Matty into the small bathroom behind the Taystee Freeze.
They'd left Chris and Marbles out front to keep watch. Matty didn't
talk. He knew Taylor couldn't. He knew the big guy felt like he was
dying inside. He always did whenever Matty needed help and he wasn't
there or couldn't do it. When Taylor'd said that he'd be packin' the
next time he came across the Sheriff, Matty knew he wasn't kidding.
Taylor would kill the sonofabitch. There was nothing Matty - or
anyone else for that matter - could say to change his mind. Not that
he'd want to. Christ! He hurt everywhere. And no matter how gentle
Taylor tried to be, he still hurt like he'd gotten the shit kicked
out of him because he had!
Taylor gave him a minute so he could piss, holding his jacket and
watching the door. Frustration rolled off the broad shoulders and
anger seethed beneath his tawny skin. Taylor wasn't about fighting
anymore. Not like he used to be. Now he did it to prove a point. That
no one messed with what is his. And Matty definitely falls into that
category. Matty sobbed as he stood up straight. Taylor was there to
lean against, so he did. Until Taylor wanted to turn him around and
feel his ribs. Suddenly, while he still loved Taylor with everything
he had, he wished he were anywhere else. He pulled away from his
friend, acting the tough-guy.
"Stop it, Matty. If they're broken, we need to know," the low voice
rumbled against his throat and Matty let him have his way. Broken or
not, it hurt like hell. Taylor warmed his hands before undoing the
silk shirt and pressing his palms over the smooth skin of his belly.
Matty sucked in a breath, standing but barely, somewhere between
sweating and shivering. "Sonofabitch." Matty flinched. Taylor hardly
ever swore. Must be worse than he'd thought.
Taking a moment to examine the rest of him, Taylor pulled Matty close
to his chest, running his hands up and down his back. He gave a small
smile when Matty looped his arms around his waist. He knew Matty
needed this. Matty was a toucher. If Matty liked you and was talking
to you, he'd have his arm on you or would stand so close to you that
you'd think he was your best friend. Taylor let out a sigh. He felt
the strong heart beating against him through the thin cotton thermal.
They held each other for a long time, Taylor pressing the smaller
frame to him as though they were one. Moments like this were rare.
After a while, there was a knock on the door. Taylor's grimace was
back, seemingly a permanent fixture. He didn't answer the knock. And
there wasn't another. Slowly, he pulled Matty away from him and ran
his fingers through the soft, dark hair. Taylor could be
surprisingly - surprising to others - gentle to others. Never to
Matty. He watched as those thick fingers deftly buttoned up his
shirt, tucking it back into the expensive dress pants that Matty
always wore. He smoothed his hands over the strong shoulders before
helping Matty on with his coat. "We need to make a stop," was all
Taylor said as he moved them towards the door. Gratefully, Matty
locked eyes with Taylor's dark, expressive ones. They shared another
minute before Taylor had them outside. That's just the way things are
between them.
Chris and Marbles went to their room and waited for Taylor to call.
Poor Matty, Johnny thought, watching as Chris flipped channels on the
television. This was all his fault. All of it. And Matty getting beat
up - he didn't think he could live with that. Matty and Chris were
his best friends. Taylor, too, sort of - but he could get away with
more with Chris or Matty. Taylor seemed to always *see* him and
expect more out of him. He hated that. A lot.
Matty had thought it was bad before. This was much worse. Taylor had
him stretched out on the bed and for no *good* reason. How had Taylor
done this for so many years? All the fighting. Matty flinched as
Taylor ripped off another strip of tape, soothed by the strong hand
on his shoulder. That sound had Matty thinking of every fight Taylor
had came home from, looking like he would never heal - never be okay
again. He wasn't always this tough, moody, solid-as-steel figure that
loomed over him. How had he done it night after night? He thought
about asking, but breathing was all he was up for at the moment.
Trying to be as easy on him as possible, Taylor worked fast.
After taping his ribs, Taylor helped him sit up. Matty was sure the
worst was over until suddenly his face was being pressed against
something stinging and hot. He pulled away, but Taylor kept a firm
grip on him. "Matty, I know it stings, but it works," Taylor rasped,
sadness just under the surface. Matty stopped struggling, feeling
like a pussy. After a few minutes, Taylor eased the compress off his
face and bandaged him up. Matty sucked in a deep breath and let it
go, holding onto Taylor's forearms in order to stand up.
Once he had his jacket on, Taylor handed him some aspirin. "Take
these," he said, holding out a glass of water. He phoned Marbles and
Chris as Matty swallowed them down and threw the cup in the trash
before turning to Taylor and saying, "Let's go."