"Snipes, f'real, you don't even know. Do you even know? You don't even fuckin' know, man."
The sniper offers only a gruff grunt in response, doing his best to read the road signs as his rather cryptic van runs its way slowly down the street.
"This shit is SO gay..." The boy continued on his ramble, clearly not giving heed to how little the man actually seemed to care. His body bumps harshly against the passenger seat as he allows himself to angrily fall back, arms crossing angrily over his chest with a sigh. "Seriously, this shit ain't cash. So uncash."
"Just shut ya trap, 'lright? 'S your stupid request 'n the first place! Goin' all lovey dovey on me, sayin' we should meet each other's folks!" The bushman's speech falls to a low and aggravated mumble, slowly fading until the two both fell rather silent.
"Yo, we're getting' pretty close." The younger of the two finally chirps up, "Man, Ma's gon' be pumped to see me. Kinda the man of the family. Y'know, no big deal or nothin'."
Stepping inside the rigid townhouse about 10 or 20 minutes later proved quite the opposite, as the rather lean Bostonian was pulled down by his mother's arm into what looked like a rather painful hug. He finally arose, lipstick smeared about his face, looking just as triumphant as he had a moment before. He cockily glanced at the sniper, mouthing a silent, "Told ya."
Told me what? Was all the Australian could think, his dumbfounded expression locked onto the boasting Scout's. He had no words to describe this boy, he was simply too much.
"And who's your friend?" The Scout's mother finally asks, offering the Australian a rather cute smile.
"Name's Jack." He smiled, removing his hat from his head. "Jack Mundy."
"Ooo, what an accent!" She praised, lifting a hand to fan her face. "I'm Marissa, Marissa Bianchi."
"Italian?"
"Mmmhm." She batted her eyelashes, and Jack by no means missed the roll of Scout's eyes.
"Ma, stop." He huffed, walking over to the older man and placing an arm around his shoulder. "He's already got someone."
"Must be a lucky woman." She smiled and lightly shook her head, walking from the living room into the kitchen. "I'll make you boys some lunch! Must be hungry after that trip!"
"Mmm, y'hear that? You're a mighty lucky woman." He quietly purred, giving the boy's thigh a heavy pat.
"Fuck you." He angrily growled back.
"My my, someone's on 'er period."
"Yeah, it's your mom."
"Clever. Y'think o' that one y'self?"
"Nah, got it all over my dick when I was bangin' her last night."
"'Least my mum never hit on ya, 'nd there's no need t'bring her into this conversation."
"Hm."
"Don't worry y'self, Caleb."
"Hmmmm..."
The hummed response was longer this time, and much softer than the previous one. The young Bostonian rested his head on the other's shoulder for a minute, before lifting it with a sigh. "We should prolly join her in there."
"'lright."
"So..." Ms. Bianchi began, joining the two men at the table and placing what appeared to be grilled cheese before each of them. "How'd you two end up becoming friends anyhow? You two don't rightly seem like a pair that'd get along."
It was an awkward question, mainly because the answer involved the Sniper being rammed ball's deep into the Scout.
"Erm..." The archer began, doing his best to stall for time. "Well... as I recall it, we'd known each other for awhile, but 'ad never really talked. Think it was durin' one of our missions, 'e managed to crawl 'is way into the crow's nest I was occupyin'. Ended up bein' a pretty long mission, lotsa overtime. Hours worth! Talked for a long while, realized we... kinda clicked, and ended up..." Oh Christ, what DID we end up doin'?
"Fighting!" The Scout piped in, earning a confused glance from the Sniper, before he nodded solemnly.
"Uh, roight, fightin'. Pretty loud fight, too, might I add. Scout's got a big mouth no matter what he's doin', eh? Uf..." The gunman's innuendos were cut short as he felt the Scout's foot stomp harshly on his own.
Luckily, the boy's mother took no notice, and instead simply smiled and laughed. "You've got that right! He wasn't always the loud one, y'know?"
Jack cocked his eyebrows. "Y'don't say..." Caleb's eyes drilled holes into the side of the man's head. He'd love to have wiped that shit eating grin right off his stupid face.
"Mmmhm, my little boy was always smaller than his brothers, really a small bo-"
"Ma, I was like fuckin' six years old, what'd you expect?"
His mother threw him a stern look, "Mind your language."
A roll of the eyes and a shake of the head, "Jesus Christ..."
"Besides, you're perfect the way you are, with your runnin' and all. Look at those muscular legs! Women love that! Anywho, Caleb was always real quiet, did pretty well in school though! All changed when our little man got into high school. Became a ladies man, gained some confidence," She beamed happily for a moment before her face dropped into a frown, "lost some grades."
"This..." The bushman motioned to the boy sitting beside him. "Wos a ladies' man?"
"Yo, snipes, fu... screw you, man. I had the ladies linin' up. My bedroom door was always open to 'em, f'real."
He practically cackled, swinging his hand and giving the air a right good spanking.
"Sweetie, don't gloat! You were still a virgin when you left the house."
The crackling and spanking simultaneously stopped.
The Australian hummed, "What a playa'."
Instead of feeling insulted, the Bostonian simply cringed. "Jesus, Snipes, never use the word 'playa' ever again."
"I think I've grown t'like it."
"Well ungrow."
"What do I get in return then?"
His colleague shrugged, slumping back down in his seat.
"Mm, I've got s'm ideas."
Scout's eyes fell to the floor, but the smirk on his face did poor to go unnoticed.
As did Jack's smug, but well intentioned, chuckle.
Caleb gazed at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his face. Welp, it was going about as well as he had expected it to. His mother and, uch, boyfriend doing an equal job of humiliating him. A deep sigh released itself from his lungs as he walked away from his reflection. Giving his face and hands a quick once over with the worn towel that hung from a rather chipped pole, he emerged from the bathroom.
"...What?" The Scout inquisitively asked as he strolled over to where his partner sat on the couch. The sniper stared back at him, a look of utter adoration fixed on his face.
"WHAT?"
"Is this really you, mate?" He asked, pointing to what he held in his lap.
"Oh god..."
"Look at 'em cheeks! You're bloody adorable!"
"I look so stupid."
"Oh god, I just wanna pinch ya! You belong in a commercial, lad. Baby o' the year." He ranted on, finger jabbing at the photo in the album to further illuminate his point.
He flipped the page, a frown finding itself on his face. "O's this? Wankah's holdin' you by yer' ankle."
Caleb let out a laugh, "Oh man, that's my brother. Brown or red hair?"
"Brown."
"Yeah, that's Danny. He was always the biggest dick to me. Probably Jack taking the picture."
"Jack?"
"Yeah."
"Your brother has the same name as me?"
"Yeah."
"Well that's not completely unsettlin'... Oh, wait, yes it is..."
"Nah, man... It's not the same. He's Jack, but you're Jyack." He mimics, putting on his best Australian accent.
"Roight, must've forgotten that one."
"Muh nayme's Jyack. Ai 'ave a roight gewd toim wankin' dingos."
"Is that s'pos'd to be me?"
"Ayup."
"Well you can just sod off. Yeh man look at me, I'm bloody Caleb, I love baseball more than me own mum. You'd think I get ladies, but really I'm just a virgin."
"Yo, fuck you. Not anymore I'm not."
"Heh, damn straight."
His attention went back to the photo album, turning yet another page.
"Oi, now that's just upsettin'." He commented, looking down at the bruised Scout that stared back at him.
"Yeap, was always the one to take the beatings... Sooo..." The usually cocky voice trailed off, it sounded almost upset. Almost.
"Aw, c'mere."
Jack pulled the Bostonian down next to him, tightly wrapping an arm around him.
"'S just downroight mean." His hand brushed away the Scout's bangs, and he gently planted a kiss on his exposed forehead. "Y'could break 'em in less than a minute if ya wanted to now."
The scout's body shifted closer to Jack's.
Something that sounded a bit like a thanks was murmured as the boy dug his face into the other man's shirt.
The sniper smiled.
"Yer mum's roight, y'know. Ya really are perfect. Jus' real' bloody annoyin'."