So there I was, right, feelin' kinda dulled out and wondering why profuse amounts of listening to embarrassingly terrible music wasn't getting me anywhere. Then I thought of this story and a bunch of this just poured out of my mind (like a freakin' creek, man!) so I guess it was. Yay!
Watching someone destroy themselves was uncomfortable. Plus, Lupin had wanted his final day to be as selfish as he deserved it to be, and that was difficult to achieve if you had to share the spotlight. It just wasn't his day. Not yet.
It had been easy enough to pull the other man away from the edge. The forlorn sailor was too self-conscious about being seen in tears to consider dropping to his death in front of another man. Lupin took his hand without question and led the man down the proper way. "Why don't we get hot dogs?" he suggested, a phony smile plastered on his face. "When in Rome, you know."
The sailor nodded, not bothering to mention the fact that the man in the strange suit still held his hand. He didn't quite trust himself to speak yet, his mouth dry and his mind in disbelief that any of this was happening. He wondered how the man could look so happy after how they had just met, even though he knew instinctively that it was a coping mechanism. He couldn't lift his face up from its miserable frown and doubted he would be able to.
Lupin watched with patience as the sailor indicated what he wanted on his hot dog, sending glares whenever the merchant gave them a dramatic sigh of wasted time. He didn't care that people were waiting behind them, throwing a twenty at the merchant so he'd shut up. When the sailor had finished ordering his hot dog, Lupin gave him a winning grin before ordering his from the menu of premade options. After handing the sailor his hot dog, Lupin took the man's hand once more and walked away from angry crowd now surrounding the hot dog stand.
His hot dog shoved half in his mouth, Lupin looked down at the man who remained silent. Lupin bit and pulled the hot dog away, mumbling with a full mouth, "Gotcha somethin'." He rummaged through the plastic bag on his shoulder before throwing a cold can of soda at the sailor, who nodded in thanks. Lupin rolled his eyes. It was just his luck to pick up some mute weirdo. He looked around for somewhere to drop the guy. "Let's go rest," he said, nodding towards a bench.
Lupin had never thought himself one to fit the usual definition of depressed. If he tried to explain his problems to a third party, he knew they wouldn't understand why he did what he did. And hell, he was a good storyteller. They would more than likely get caught up marveling at how amazing his existence was—even the less fantastic adventures he had were grand compared to the lackluster life of those who didn't have the courage to live his life; he thrived on the existence of such a mass, when it came down to it. Compared to those people, he probably wasn't a fraction as worthless as he thought he was. The real problem lay in that the only comparison he could make was to himself, and he had become one useless bastard. So yes and no, but he probably wasn't what came to mind when someone tried to define the word 'depression'.
Even so, he thought he could start to relate to those people, because the way the mute weirdo was staring at him was staring to freak him out. Usually, he liked to be the center of attention. Lupin fidgeted as he look at the people who passed them by without turning their heads, which he preferred just then to the way that guy was just staring at him with his big empty masses for eyeballs. There were birds and trees and the sun was starting to set, but the man had nothing better to do than look at him. "You're welcome?" Maybe the guy was just feeling helpless because he couldn't express his gratitude. Why was he so worried anyway? He had better things to do. He had to find an escape.
Now he was trying to escape? He was becoming more depressed by the second. Gracefully evading the opportunity to ruin his image further was one thing, but now he was trying to escape from some guy he'd found on a rooftop who hadn't thrown a single word his way. Reasoning that out, it had to be all in his head. Ugh, kill me now, he thought with a groan.
"So, you know, it's kind of getting la-"
Lupin was cut off when the mute guy attacked him with his face. Lupin's first instinct was to kill, but he relaxed when he realized that the guy wasn't attacking him in that way. Naturally, Lupin knew how to make a kiss something special, so despite his confusion, he compensated for his initial pause in action. Barely missing a beat, he quickly disregarded the innocent chastity of the sailor man's lips and encouraged the wanton nature that lay under the skin of every man. He heard the can of soda hit the ground.
When the two broke apart, the sailor was left gasping for breath. That had been plenty more than he'd expected. Actually, he'd expected for the man in the red blazer to make good on his death wish. The sailor took a bite of his hot dog, which had left a few stains on his pants in the meantime. He put it down again, sighing at the other man's expression of expectation. His mouth no longer felt quite so dry, so he said the only thing that came to mind: "Wow."
Lupin laughed. So he did speak! And his voice had been drawn out the way Lupin was best at. His smirk widened. "Well, I'm guessing you're not having girl trouble, then."
The sailor's face flushed and he tugged at his collar a little. Lupin didn't push this.
"So." Lupin, now knowing how to get the man to speak, pulled the man in and gave him a big, fat smooch on the lips. "Do you have a name?"
The sailor swallowed thickly. "Popeye," he half-panted in a rugged voice that sounded like it hadn't been used in a month. "It's Popeye," he said before leaning back in as the two engaged in Lupin's third favorite hobby: making a scene.