"Fuck, Jack;" Scout huffs a final time as the entirety of his mass collapses onto Sniper beneath him, whose arms still wrap around the young man completely. The Australian sighs as his curled finger tips graze along Scout's back and along his hips, his hands the only appendages not frozen completely in residual ecstasy.
Scout's face is scrunched while the final dregs of euphoria drain themselves from within him, dissipating in invisible waves of live, static energy into the heated air of the sleeping room. As he closes his eyes and presses his ear against the sweaty chest of his Sniper, Scout can sense that below his calm exterior his heart still races, his lungs still working to catch up to the beat of the organ.
The covers rustle as Scout stretches his legs and lifts his head to catch a better glimpse of the Australian and the expression he dons in this moment. Eyes closed softly, as if behind them Sniper attempts to pull himself back onto a ground anchored somewhere within a realm of plausibility, the younger of the two men watches him swipe through his own thick brown hair, ending the display with the emission of a closing sigh.
"That oughta remind ya just why it is you're in such a fit t'share a bed with me in the first place…" Sniper mumbles with careless, fast paced breathiness, his hands smoothing over Scout's bottom. Their bodies cool down, and the sweat (among other things) that pooled between them stagnates in their pores and seeps into the light yellow sheets.
"Better'n any Sheila, that I can promise ya, Lawrence…"
Scout complies as Sniper slips a come soaked finger in between his reddened lips, moaning as his tongue curls along the length.
"Hm?" Sniper asks with seductive innocence, Scout unable to resist the Australian any longer and leaning closer against him, hovering about the man as Scout binds them both with a gentle kiss.
"All that worryin' for nothin', mate,"
"I wasn't worryin' 'bout nothin'…" Scout snaps in a contrarily content sigh, nuzzling his head to rest in the crook of Jack's neck.
Sniper's eyelids drop as his cheeks press upward in a quiet, disbelieving smirk, a smirk that ultimately accompanies a haughty but unargumentative "hmph". Ever since the events at the strip club, Scout had been rather cautious about slipping head on into any sort of lusty doings with the Australian. Sniper figured he was still "confused" — It had taken nearly an hour to coax the Bostonian into indulging the blatant sexuality that had overcome him. By time Sniper'd convinced the young man he'd held in his lap to put an end his tremulous hesitancy and give into Sniper's seduction, nine AM had nearly approached completely—and he would have preferred they were on the road by ten at least.
"I'll be surprised if you can even picture what a girl would look like after a buggerin' like that," Sniper gloats, his sneer as snide as it is wide.
"Y'can't even say anythin' back, you're still all shook up…"
Sniper curls the hand that cradles the back of Scout's head, the man sitting up slowly—Scout instantly groaning moodily, obviously displeased with Sniper's shifting (an implication that it was time to get up).
"'C'mon, we've got a day ahead of us 'nd plenty o'road we need t'put behind; if you can even stand after a thrashin' like that," Sniper smirks, placing his feet to the floor.
"Fuck you…" Scout, who lies face down against the bed, mumbles into Sniper's now vacated pillow.
"You don't even need me to drive, can't I just stay in here?"
"You could, but once we start headin' East I'm gonna need ya next t'me—directions,"
"Do I look like a fuckin' map to you?"
"A bloke who just got the fuckin' of a lifetime's more like it, love…" Sniper growls, zipping his dark brown slacks, buttoning them around the width of his thin waist.
"Ew, you ain't even gonna fuckin' bathe?! After—y'know…"
"Oi, we either sleep in 'nd fuck or eat breakfast 'nd shower—can't do both on the schedule we got,"
"Fuckin' gross, Snipes…"
"'S not my fault you were itchin' for a rompin',"
"Would you stop sayin' that?!" Scout snaps, instantly flushing and sitting up himself; there was no chance of catching anymore sleep at this point.
"Don't move too suddenly, now, just 'cause I ain't in ya that doesn't mean it won't feel like I'm not…"
"If you don't shut your mouth I'm gonna deck ya in it 'til it stays shut,"
"I was kinda hopin' you were gonna threaten t'shove your dick in it…"
"Ah, jeeze," Scout shakes his head, careful to make sure Sniper is out of sight before he winces, easing his way to his feet—so maybe Sniper'd been right, their latest "session" really had done a number on his body.
"Seriously though, dude, you ain't even gonna shower?" Scout asks again, lip curled in silent disgust as he brushes past the man in the kitchenette.
"You could always lick me clean…"
"Fuck you, no, that's gross—I ain't lickin' dried spunk off your nasty ass…"
"'S not like we'll be getting' out, we got a whole day o'drivin' ahead,"
"I don't wanna be stuck sittin' next to your jizz drenched self!"
"We don't have time for squabbles, love, we're runnin' late..."
"Yeah, how 'bout you say somethin' you haven't already said a thousand and one fuckin' times," Scout snaps, grabbing the coffee pot and serving himself a mug—until Sniper scrambles to snatch the ceramic from Scout's unwrapped hands.
"'S no way in Hell your arse is drinkin' coffee—"
Scout says nothing, but instead settles with a particularly evil glare Sniper'd long since learned to ignore—it's not as if Scout actually went through with any of the shit he threatened him with.
"You're gonna be all over the walls, talkin' nonstop—'nd don't forget coffee goes right through ya, you'd have to stop t'tinkle every two minutes—"
"How many times I gotta tell ya I ain't a fuckin' toddler?! So you need to quit treatin' me like one—"
"Why don't ya bring your colourin' books with ya, just for when you get bored—"
"Why do ya gotta be such a dick? Why?!" Scout huffs, folding his arms whilst Sniper downs the last of his coffee, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"'S no fun, is it?! You always like bein' a cheeky little shit, 'nd now you're seein' that shit ain't cute—can't catch a break with you,"
"Whatever, I just can't believe I'm stuck in a fuckin' piss van with a wanker covered in jizz that drinks his coffee black,"
"Oi, what's my coffee preference got t'do with anythin'?! 'Nd it's not wankurrrr, love—it's wanker,"
"'S what I said!" Scout snaps, Sniper rustling his hair before placing the mug down and headed out of the camper and pulling the keys out of his pocket.
-
"You know, Snipes, this is only the fifth thousandth time I've fuckin' asked, but where the Hell are we headed?"
Scout awaits the answer in silence (much to Sniper's surprise), rolling his eyes however as Sniper raises his brow, concealing the answer himself.
"Unless, you know—I ain't supposed to know,"
Sniper shrugs, Scout thinking just a little before his eyes widen and a smile graces his face.
"Either you're tryin' to find somewhere nice and quiet where you can dump my body—or it's a surprise!"
"It can't be somethin' in between?" Sniper sighs guiltily.
"What the fuck would come between murderin' me and surprisin' me with some place cool?!"
'Boston', Sniper snaps mentally, though his shoulders heave heavily as he sighs with scathing impatience.
"Yeah—was jus' kiddin'—'s a surprise,"
"Why you gotta sound so annoyed, though?" Scout asks smally at Sniper's tone, shrinking in his seat. "I hope you ain't annoyed…"
"Wishful thinkin', I've been stuck with ya for five days 'nd I still got a week t'go,"
"Why can't you just act like a boyfriend for once?!" Scout whines, smirking slightly and holding in a few chuckles at Sniper's torturous, drawn out groan.
"What in the bloody Hell is that supposed t'fuckin' mean?! 'Act like a boyfriend'…"
"Maybe you could just be like, 'Yeah, Lawrence, I got a surprise for ya, 'cause I love you so much', or 'I wanna do somethin' special for ya 'cause I love you so much',"
"You want me t'barf all over ya love?!"
"No, I just wanna date a non-jerk for a minute—"
"Since when—?! Ah, fuck it," Sniper shakes his head, eyes on the road.
"You're always sayin' you don't wanna be around me and that spendin' time with me is a pain, 'nd I wanna know why!"
"'Cause you're a bloody brat!"
"Still ain't shit you should be sayin' about someone you claim to love, Snipes—you'd think lovin' me would mean you like bein' around me," Scout pouts.
"Since when d'you give a shit about this sort o'thing?!"
"I ain't sayin' you gotta shit hearts when you think about me, but I'd like t'think you don't find me annoying!"
"How can I not find ya annoyin' when it's practically your job?!"
"Um—"
"Seriously, don't think I don't see ya out there—ya get in a bloke's face, shoot 'im a bit, laugh like a bloody jackal 'nd then skip away—"
"Oh what, am I too fast for ya?!" Scout sticks out his tongue, sharing a one sided, hearty laugh.
"Heinrich told me this one time he was healin' me and he saw a red dot on my ass,"
"Maybe you sat on a ladybug—"
"He also said he looked up and saw you borderline fappin'—"
"You can tell this "Heinrich" t'shove it up his arse—"
"Bet you wish you could shove it up my ass—"
"Already have, love," Sniper grins, patting his crotch.
"'Did ya forget already?! Or did I fuck the memory outta ya?!"
"Nah," Scout resigns, reddening as an ear splitting grin commands control of his lips.
"What're you smilin' about?!"
"Prolly the way you totally avoided my question,"
"What question?!"
"Where it is we're goin',"
"I told ya, it's a surprise—"
"I don't fuckin' buy it—"
"You better before I go in the camper 'nd hit ya with one o'them tranquilizers, love,"
"You would have tranquilizers, fuckin' serial killer,"
"I'm a Sniper, love—"
"I'm a Scout, nice t'meet ya,"
Scout nearly falls underneath his seat, he laughs so hard. Sniper on the other hand finds contentment in mumbling and shaking his head irritably, Scout now humoured with himself to the point of tears.
"What'samatter, you can't take a freakin' joke?!"
"Shoulda left your arse in the camper…"
"Dude, I wanted to stay in bed, you were the one draggin' me outta it!"
Scout smirks at the hint of a smile Sniper attempts to mask with an unphased collectedness of himself.
"You say you hate me and that I annoy ya 'nd that you want me dead—"
"I never said that I wanted ya dead, love—"
"But you need me, you weren't goin' anywhere if I didn't get outta bed with ya,"
"Don't give me that bloody smile…"
"You're just pissed 'cause you love it and me,"
"I swear, Lawrence…"
"Say it,"
"I ain't sayin' lick shit—!"
"Say you love me!"
"I'm not sayin' a bloody word, mate!"
"So then you hate me?" Scout asks quickly.
"N—no—but—"
"So then fuckin' say it—say you love me," Scout snaps aggressively, Sniper biting down on his lip, deathly quiet seconds slipping past them both as the man clears his throat, uttering a few soundless syllables.
"What?! Oh I'm sorry I didn't catch that," Scout beams, bringing a hand to fan over his ear, leaning closer to the irritated Australian.
"I said…" Sniper rolls his eyes, Scout's grin almost childish in its expectancy.
He pulls the van to the side of the road, putting the vehicle on park.
"Your van's shittin' out on ya, Snipes, now it only takes a half hour before the thing starts smokin'—"
"Shh," Sniper hisses, Scout raising an eyebrow as the man faces him, expression soft and almost affectionate as he reaches his arms out, placing his hands on Scout's shoulders.
"What, why we gotta be quiet?!"
Scout shudders as Sniper's arms extend so they pull him into a gentle embrace, the rough tips of his fingers smoothing over Scout's back even through the thin cotton of the young man's shirt.
Scout reigns the volume of his own breath in at the sound of Sniper's flaring in his ears, the younger of the two bringing an arm to hook around the Australian's neck.
"You gonna say it?"
"I said…" Sniper whispers, and Scout can feel as the man slides his tongue in between his own lips, for Sniper's mouth rests in the closest proximity possible against his ear.
Scout closes his eyes as Sniper's hands massage him into a soothing calm.
"…PISS OFF YA WANKER!" Sniper shouts in Scout's ear, laughing evilly as he jumps so harshly that Scout bumps his head on the roof.
"Ow, man—!"
"Aw, I'm sorry, love…" Sniper chuckles at the moaning Scout and his exaggerated display, bringing Scout's head to his lips and giving the point of impact a doting smooch.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry, dinky di—didn't mean t'give ya a concussion…"
"I knew you were tryin' t'kill me!"
"Been tryin' the last three years, technically speakin'…"
"This ain't funny, Jack—I'm sittin' here, dead serious, and you can't even say you love me!"
"Why do I gotta say what you already know?!"
"How do I know if you don't tell me?!" Scout snaps.
"Actions speak louder than words, y'know…"
"Then you sure ain't doin' shit t'prove it,"
"You seriously gettin' riled up over there?! I thought this was all just for jokes, love—don't tell me you're seriously huffin' 'cause I'm not serenadin' ya like a bloody girl!"
Sniper sighs; if only he had a dime for every time he'd reduced Scout to a pouting mass of emotion on this trip alone…
Regardless, he starts the van, the two silent as they usually are was when one had managed to piss the other off indefinitely.
Scout truly does sit, rubbing his head, face scrunched, Sniper can't help but observe.
'Maybe I should just say it to 'im… Sniper grumbles, casting the pathetic Scout another look.
It wasn't as if Sniper had never tried in the past. Hell, Sniper'd spent the last three years thoroughly lovestruck over the Bostonian—even if he'd kept it subdued. Last time he checked, Sniper was the one who'd been subjected to a horny, confused Scout and his various attempts to woo his pants off—only to turn around and accuse the Australian of being a "fag", insisting that his attraction to Sniper was nothing short of a primal lust, that being stuck on a "sausage infested battlefield" called for desperate measures; Sniper'd always left those conversations a little glum and hurt, if he could say so himself.
And even then Scout had been very finicky about his advances; some days he'd wanted Sniper to fuck him without restraint, in the middle of battle with an intensity that was sure to catch the attention of the others—other times he could barely utter the initial question of "Hey, wanna fuck?"
And of course Sniper never obliged—not until just a few days ago when Scout, after three years of one sided adoration from Sniper's end, finally admitted to Sniper an attraction of his own that extended beyond love making.
Barely a week as an official couple and Scout dares to act wronged, as if he too hadn't spent months denying Sniper the very words Scout accuses him of withholding from him. Scout can thank himself Sniper hesitates to say them in return; the one time it slipped out in the past, Scout avoided him for three whole weeks.
"…Heyo, Snipes, could you do me a favour?" Scout asks lightly, Sniper raising a skeptical eyebrow at both the young man's tone and eventual request.
"Sure thing, mongrel—what do ya need?"
"I was just wonderin' if we could stop somewhere 'nd get some lipstick—"
"Lipstick?! What in all the bloody world're ya gonna do with lipstick?!"
"Put it on, what the fuck else?!"
"Why do ya wanna wear lipstick?!"
"'Cause if you don't love me, then I dunno what the Hell you see in me, and I'd like to at least look pretty before getting fucked!" Scout snaps, his brow furrowing the more he speaks, but Sniper simply rolls his eyes, saying nothing in return.
"I'm turnin' on the radio, mate—you can keep talkin', but I ain't necessarily gonna listen,"
"Such a dick—such a fuckin' dick…"
'Since when does this little shit care about bein' sweet?!'
"Look, I'm about this close t'shovin' your arse back in the camper—"
"Then do it!" Scout growls, jumping as Sniper pulls over and slams the driver side door, Scout's eyes following him as he stalks around the front of the van.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Scout yelps as Sniper drags him from his seat, wriggling the camper door open and pushing Scout's lean frame inside.
"Lay down'n take a nap!"
"Oh yeah?! 'Nd what if I lay down'nd never get back up?! What if I die in my sleep?! You're gonna regret sayin' shit, dude!"
"You're not gonna die in your bloody sleep—"
"Naw, I'm gonna fuckin' shower, unlike your grody ass!"
Scout slams the door with a final flip of the bird at the Australian, and the two, much to their respective senses of surprise, manage to let the day pass by without another word.
-
Sniper lifts the pit of his arm to his nose yet again, the shock of the deep, bitter stench charging up within the channel of his nostrils, curling in smelly waves at his sensory receptors. He gags at the salty scent, his breath slamming in his throat as he sputters in an attempt to rid his mouth of the taste of body odor.
So maybe he could use a shower.
He'd reached a bit of a wall in driving anyway, what with being just outside of Boston and not exactly having any idea where it was Scout lived within the city itself.
Only a sliver of the orange, descending sun can be seen over the horizon, and the headlights had an unbecoming tendency to flicker as of late (if it wasn't one thing it's another). Sniper, who hadn't possessed a valid license in ten years, certainly felt it wise to stray away from situations that would land him under the watchful eye of Highway Patrol or Sheriffs. Dodgy headlights certainly qualified as an eye catcher.
With this knowledge in mind Sniper knew it was certainly time to call it a night—without Scout to distract him or drain of him of the will to live, he managed to make a sizeable dent in mileage today—the non stop driving having ultimately cost him his energy.
'How'n the world 'm I gonna get 'im t'tell me how t'get to his house without him figurin' it all out?!' Sniper rests his face tiredly in the palm of his hand, and as he sits alone in the darkened van, the engine popping and settling as the liquids within the heated machinery cool for the night, all the man can do is think while trying his best to ignore the crackling.
There were many problems posing themselves, the more Sniper thought about this whole plan: they must have only been an hour south of Boston—Sniper was handy enough with navigation that he could assuredly get them downtown. Getting to Boston wasn't the issue—but rather what Scout's reaction to finding himself in his hometown once more would be.
He certainly wouldn't comply once aware of Sniper's plan—thus comes the conundrum of just how Sniper is supposed to manipulate Scout into leading him to his apartment without him catching on.
He'd heard Scout mention a neighbourhood by the name of "Springfield" once or twice (Scout always accused Sniper of never paying attention when he talked, but little did he know that Sniper always hung onto every word). There was always the option of stopping somewhere and asking for directions to this specific neighbourhood; certainly within Boston someone at a local gas station or restaurant would be able to tell him where to go. Scout had always described it as being a very dangerous, run down slum of a community—definitely not anywhere Sniper would be advised to cruise the camper through slowly in an attempt to find the young man's apartment, clearly lost and susceptible to thuggish encounters.
Then again he did have his damn rifle mounted behind him.
'The only way this'll work is if Scout just wakes up, 'nd what does he know—he's home. I'll ask 'im for his address 'nd just keep drivin'—just gotta be careful with the lights…'
But Sniper grumbles as the memory of their earlier squabble comes to mind—who was to say Scout would even hear the man out long enough for him to pose the question, let alone coax any sort of information out of him—not to mention he had a tendency to question, he would certainly want to know what for Sniper wanted to know the whereabouts of his childhood home…
Sniper locks up the van, taking a final sweep of the clearing in which he'd settled upon parking. Fumbling with his keys for the one specific to the camper, the Australian bites down on his lower lip as his hand pushes the handle and the door swings open, prepared for anything—who knows what could have been left to fester and ferment over the course of the day, with a moody, huffing Scout locked inside.
"Good Lord, 's that smell rancid," Sniper chuckles as he catches a whiff of his own sweat, tossing the keys on a small table and pulling his vest and button down over his head.
"'Ey, love! What d'you say we take a little shower together, huh?" Sniper booms lightheartedly, his smile faltering however as Scout does not return Sniper's proposal with either an answer confirming or denying his agreement to Sniper's suggestion.
"Scout, don't tell me you're still ignorin' me 'cause o'earlier," Sniper scoffs, folding his sunglasses and cracking his back, the stalk of his thin legs hardly making a sound as his feet hit the floor. "'S been twelve hours, mate!"
Sniper gives Scout the courtesy of a few more quiet seconds, making his way toward the back of the camper all the while.
"Honestly now, you'd think a whole day by yourself woulda calmed ya down a little…"
Sniper smirks at the sight of the young man who rests upon his bed, curled in the sheets, his face completely smooth and calm, his breathing light yet audible.
"D'aw, mutant's absolutely knocked out."
Sniper sighs as he sits lightly on the edge of the mattress, observing his slumbering Scout in serene silence. Checking his watch, he only just now notices that perhaps Scout is well into sleep for good reason; midnight is only some twenty minutes away.
He jumps as Scout breathes in heavily, the young man's mouth agape slightly—though his breathing reverts to the same rhythm as before the initial snore.
"Lawrence…" Sniper chuckles, leaning across the bed and pulling Scout against him, careful to make sure he does not wake him. Scout doesn't stir as Sniper's hands brush against his face and curl affectionately along his body, the Australian kissing his temple softly.
"Love ya, gremlin, I really do…"
Sniper kisses the corner of his lips, his large, ungloved hands brushing through Scout's trimmed hair, rustling it in its wake.
"Fuckin' fag…"
It takes a few seconds for Sniper to realize Scout had actually spoken, his mouth agape as the slightly shifting Scout brings his arms so they wrap around the Australian.
"I ain't completely asleep, y'know…" Scout mumbles into the crook of his Sniper's neck, eyes still closed.
"I tell ya what you wanna hear, 'nd then you call me a fag for it?" Sniper rolls his eyes, an unamused smirk curling along his lips on Scout's behalf.
"You coulda just said it—you didn't have to crawl in the fuckin' bed with me…"
Sniper grimaces and sighs with silent impatience; ignoring Scout's scolding and instead expressing his quickly rising annoyance with the barely awake Bostonian with a heave of his chest, Sniper simply glares at the ceiling. It would figure his words would wake and irritate the young man—it certainly wasn't a new phenomenon, a pissed off Scout…
"Figures you'd get mushy with it," Scout snaps quickly before placing his hands against Sniper's cheeks and kissing him deeply, Sniper complying enthusiastically, smiling into Scout's groggy affection.
"'Cause the words aren't mushy on their own," Sniper huffs, his tone light with sarcasm.
"Did y'have a nice day all by your lonesome in the camper, love?"
"It was alright. Slept and shit, showered, ate some—your creepy ass wasn't there to annoy me…"
"You almost sound disappointed," Sniper chuckles, bringing his arms tighter around Scout's shoulders, thus pressing the two even closer together.
"I wouldn't'a needed to be if your ass had just said you loved me," Scout snaps, balling his fist and punching it into Sniper's chest lightly.
"Well I do, Lawrence…" he grunts, shifting and settling his back against the springed mattress beneath him. "I'm tellin' ya right now…"
The corners of Scout's mouth twitch. A smile grows upon them, that Sniper can see—even if the one he holds is in a silent race to conceal it before it sprawls itself in complete radiance, mirroring the warmth within him.
"You sound like a fuckin' girl…"
"You're the one in my arms, shiftin' in my lap so you can get closer against me…"
"Piss off, wanker…"
"'S not wankurr—"
"Piss off, wan-kah—"
"Close enough,"
Scout sits up slightly, brushing his lips against Sniper's longingly.
"Strange, was expectin' for ya t'still be all butthurt 'bout earlier—you're a right sweetheart if you ever have been…"
"Don't call me a fuckin' sweetheart, dude…also you smell like shit,"
"Spoke too soon…"
"You can't shower soon enough…"
"Alright, alright, I get it—Good Lord, I'm getting' up—came in actually t'ask if ya maybe didn't wanna shower with me?"
"Dude that thing ain't gonna fit for the both of us…"
"I'm pretty sure the dimensions o'the thing would be the last thing on your mind…."
"Yeah well, I'm tired, you're smelly—go go go, before I kick your ass back outside!"
"Like you could even pick me up with those scrawny little arms o'yours," Sniper grumbles, hoisting himself off the mattress and ambling his way to the cramped, compact bathroom.
"Don't tell me you used all the hot water…"
"Like I fuckin' keep track," Scout snaps from the other room, Sniper yawning and turning the shower knobs, relieved as steaming water comes billowing from the metallic head seconds later.
"Oi, Scout, would you mine bringin' me some 'jama pants? Forgot em,"
Scout's exaggerated, peeved growl at the man's request is heard even over the rolling water that pours against the small ceramic floor.
"How the fuck does thing thing even work, anyway?!" Scout spits, tossing the man his pants and leaning against the door.
"Well, you got a hot water tank, 'nd the water drains into another tank y'eventually gotta empty,"
"Sounds grody as Hell,"
"Yeah well it's there so that you aren't—what did y'say?! Grody?!"
"What difference does it make if you ain't usin' it?!"
"I'm tryin', love! If your arse would stop chattin' I coulda been out'nd all dried off by now!"
"Then get in there!" Scout barks, Sniper jumping as the young man's fingers fiddle with the button of his slacks, Scout pulling them down and tossing them over his shoulder.
"Oi, love! Don't just undress me—!"
"Like your ass doesn't like it!" Scout scoffs, lifting his own shirt above his head, grabbing Sniper's hands and placing them around his waist.
"Now are we takin' this shower or not?! I thought you freaked out about wastin' water," Scout smirks, his tone cocky, eyes fluttering shut as he pulls Sniper into yet another kiss, the man wasting no more time in relieving them both of their clothing—hardly a hint of attention was paid at the confines and the proximity their sudsy frames were forced to endure. "Love you, Jack..." Lawrence whispers quietly, resting his head against his wet, hairy chest.
-
"I ain't gettin' out of this fuckin' van, Snipes, I ain't gonna fuckin' say it again!" Scout booms the next morning, bringing his fist behind his head, eyes steady on Sniper as he silently dares the man to come any closer.
"I can't believe you!" He hisses. Scout narrows his eyes as he awaits an explanation from the Australian—an explanation for just why they sit parked just feet away from his home, how long he'd been planning on taking him to Boston to begin with—what it is Sniper even means by bringing him to Boston…
"I can't fucking believe you!"
He plops dully onto the mattress, the only place there was in the camper to even sit in the first place. Grey sunlight casts itself from outside, the rays slanting and illuminating Scout's fiddling hands and the slow, absentminded twiddling of his dumbfounded fingers.
"'s that why you asked me for my address last night?! Can't fuckin' believe it—what right do you have, draggin' me out here like this?!" Scout rises both physically and in the volume of his voice, Sniper taking a few steps backward as the Bostonian, though shorter than him in stature, grows almost violently angry.
"Lawrence, I—"
"Nah, Jack," Scout interrupts, Sniper's eyes watching Scout's fists rather carefully—the ones he currently balls from frustration.
"You—you drag me around, don't tell me shit about where, or—or why—"
"Hey, now, mate, you were the one who practically came crawlin' t'me, beggin' that I let ya come with me!"
"YEAH, MAYBE I JUST WANTED TO BE WITH YOU! FINE, MAYBE YOU'RE SACRIFICIN' YOUR PRECIOUS TWO WEEKS, MAYBE I'M STOPPIN' YA FROM FUCKIN' DEER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK IT IS YOU DO—THAT DOESN'T JUST GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO DRAG ME AROUND LIKE YOU'RE THE FUCKIN' BOSS, LEAVIN' ME IN THE FUCKIN' DARK LIKE A KID!"
"I'm—you're not a kid, Lawrence, 'nd I know that—!"
"You sure as Hell like treatin' me like one!"
Scout utilses the silent pause in their argument to run a hand through his hair, cheeks expelling exasperated air as he, God willing, silently steels himself to conduct it all with an even, refined tone.
"I didn't sign up for this," is all he can finally say after a minute's contemplation—all he can say before he bites down on his lip, which in turn assists him in biting down on a few choice words, tantrum like anger reddening his face.
"First you tell me we're goin' West—alright, fine—you kick me out, leave me on the side of the road—what if Heinrich'd never found me, Jack?!"
"Good Lord, love, I was on my way t'turn around 'nd pick ya back up when the van broke down at that diner!"
"Then outta nowhere you just decide to fuckin' turn around, after two days of nothin' but fuckin' sittin' in this fuckin' van, and you don't even give me the courtesy of tellin' me where the fuck we're goin'?!"
"'Cause I knew you'd freak if I told ya—!"
"You ain't just cruisin' around by yourself in the Bush no more, Jack—have some fuckin' decency—"
"Who in the fuck d'you think you are, tellin' me to have decency, when you're sittin' in my van, runnin' on my gas, my time—!"
"Yeah sure, that'd be true if you didn't bring me into this by literally drivin' me up to my fuckin' house without me even knowin'!"
"I don't see why you're so damn butthurt, love, you're actin' like you're afraid of your own family—!"
"YOU KNOW I AIN'T TRYIN' TO BE HERE—! AND YOU—YOU BROUGHT ME HERE ANYWAY, DIDN'T EVEN FUCKIN' TELL ME—"
"That's just it, mate—maybe you're not tryin' t'be here, but the point is you need to be—you were in tears when you were talkin' to your Mum—"
"Don't bring that shit up—!"
"'Nd I know for a fact you were cryin' 'cause she was too! She misses you, Lawrence! Your brothers're prolly crazy t'see ya—they haven't seen ya since you went to jail, love! 'Nd your Mum prolly loses her mind, knowin' you'nd Luc are squarin' off everyday—you shouldn't be spendin' your leave with me, Scout—you need to be here, with your family, with your Mum,"
"If you think for even a second that I'm goin' in that fuckin' apartment when that—that cunt hole is in there—!"
"'Nd that's just it, you're lettin' your stepdad get in the way o'everythin', Scout, literally everythin'; I know he provoked ya, I know he treated ya like garbage, but those punches cost you your whole entire future 'nd freedom, love—'nd now you're lettin' him get in the way o'you and your own blood! If you think for a minute I was gonna let ya spend another second away from home after seein' your pathetic arse on the phone, you must not know me very well!
It's time to quit bein' the bitter, defiant stepson 'nd confront him, Scout—'nd I'm not talkin' about with bats or fists or knives, but you need to address him 'nd this whole thing like the adult you are, otherwise you're gonna be sittin' in 2Fort, filled with rage—'nd it's just gonna keep buildin' 'nd eatin' at ya—keepin' it inside 'nd avoidin' your home ain't hurtin' anyone but you…"
Scout scratches behind his neck, his face a beacon of bright pink overemotion.
"That still don't make what you did right…"
"Maybe not, but trust me, you'll thank me later—your Mum'll prolly thank me too—I'm doin' this for you, love, 'cause I know it's what's s'posed t'be done,"
"You're one to talk, you're the one who hasn't seen his family in seven years, livin' on a whole other fuckin' continent, hemisphere…"
"'S 'cause my family doesn't want me back, Lawrence—yours does, 'nd you want to be back, even if it's just for a week—'nd if you're gonna let a little arse licker like Luc get in the way o'that bond you have with you family, then not only're you lettin' 'im win, but you're not provin' anythin',either,"
"And how in the fuck am I supposed to deal with all this?! I can't even be in the same room as that fucker—I'm tryin' to do the adult thing 'nd just stay the fuck away from him!"
"Bein' adult like isn't avoidin' the problem, but findin' a way to resolve it without flippin' out like a toddler—not that—y-y'are…" Sniper adds quickly, Scout's scowl at even the implication less than forgiving.
"Y'gotta control yourself…"
"Fine, forget Luc for a second— they're gonna ask about you, who the fuck you are'd why you're just bringin' me to Boston, why I'm sleepin' in your house, van, thing—I—I wasn't exactly plannin' on comin' out to my Ma on this trip, Jack…"
"Comin' out 'bout what?!"
"Ugh, come on, Jack, you ain't fuckin' stupid…"
"Comin' out t'her 'bout us? You could just tell 'er we're friends, you don't have to make it into anythin'…"
"Yeah, well, there's no way Luc hasn't said somethin'…"
"So what's the problem?!"
"She's definitely gonna want details,"
"If she didn't pressure ya on the phone already—"
"Uh, she did, dude…"
"'Nd did she seem bothered?"
"She's oblivious, man—apparently Luc just left it at 'special friend', now she's cacklin' at me like a fuckin' chicken, askin' a million'n one questions…"
"But we've only been 'together' a week! How in the world does Luc know?!"
"Yeah well, whenever that was he was chattin' you up in the van, you musta let it slip that we'd made out a couple times, 'cause dude sure as Hell wouldn't drop it, askin' me shit like 'since when was I a fag', 'Does Ma know…'"
"Good Lord, what a dick—"
"You don't even know the half of it, Jack—Maybe if you did you'd know why the Hell I ain't getting' outta this fuckin' van…"
"I think you are, love—doesn't have to be right this instant, but I'm pretty sure people're gonna start wonderin' what in the world a beat up camper's doin' parked on the side o'the street with Nevada license plates in the middle o'Boston—'nd when they come investigatin', seein' you inside, word's gonna get around t'that flat out there…"
"Can I just—have a few minutes to get my head straight at least?!"
"'Course, love,"
Sniper motions to bring an arm around the young man's shoulders, cautious but unfaltering in his gesture.
"You know I love you 'nd that I'll be right by your side no matter what…" Sniper mumbles, giving Scout a soft shake with the arm he has wrapped securely around his shoulder.
"You don't have to face it alone,"
"I wasn't expectin' to have to face none of this at all…"
"I know, but if you drop the ball with 'em now, you'll only find it harder to wedge yourself back in there with 'em the older you get, the longer you hold it all in…'
Scout shrugs, putting up no resistance to Sniper taking his chin in his fingertips, lips sealed under the Australian's for a few calming seconds.
"I've got your back, love…" Sniper assures him quietly, returning Scout's heartfelt hug with open arms of his own.
"Always."