blueshit | Inbox for Reparacija

[ Party time. Yay. Carver sets the tin down as well and makes an effort not to scowl at Jesse, or the world at large. To make at least a marginal effort at being sociable even if he can’t match Jesse’s energy. ]

Coke. [ It comes out flat. ] Caffeine pills. Wasn’t a good time. Heard weed goes down easier.

[ Coke? Jesse's eyebrows shoot up. Wow. Carver really does know how to party.

He just nods, though, dumping some of the weed out onto the dresser and reaching into his pocket again to pull out rolling papers. ]

Yeah, it does. This ain't nothin' like that. It'll just make you...y'know. Relaxed. [ He flicks his eyes up to Carver, with a small smile. ] We're gonna have a good time.

[ He doesn’t spell out the circumstances of his run ins with cocaine and caffeine pills, or what part of the world the two tended to intersect. If he did, then he’d have to talk about the war and what came after, and that’d probably ruin the mood.

Jesse smiles at him. Open, and something like trusting—like there’s no reason for him not to be. Carver steps forward without a word, watching him close. He’s seen this in movies a time or two, before the world ended. ]

There a trick to it?

[ A trick? Jesse considers that for a moment, expertly rolling a joint at the same time. ]

Yeah, I guess there is kinda. You ever smoke cigarettes? You hold it in a little longer. Here, I'll show you.

[ He passes the joint to Carver, rolls one of his own, and digs out a lighter to light them both. Then he takes a drag, eyes closing briefly in ecstasy for a moment before he slowly exhales. ]

Like that.

[ There's an ease to how Jesse moves then, how he takes a drag and then exhales slow and steady. As the smoke spirals. It's graceful - something Carver wasn't expecting and isn't certain how to take when he sees it. It softens Jesse's face. Like there are no edges to this moment, no threats that need to be countered. Just two people in a room, like the world never ended.

For Jesse, maybe it never did. Not literally, at least.

Carver rubs his thumb against the joint, watching the ashes gather, and then takes a drag. He used to bum cigarettes off of Powell, sometimes. It goes down about the same, except for the warm feeling. That's softer, somehow. ]

Okay.

[ His voice is softer, this time. ]

That's not bad.

It's good, right?

[ It's okay, Carver, Jesse already knows what the answer is. He's already feeling nice and mellow, even though there's no way the pot's kicked in yet. It must be something about the ritual, the familiarity of it.

But he's also keeping a close eye on Carver. He's not too worried about him - if he's done coke and caffeine pills, possibly at the same time, he's not gonna get his shit freaked too bad by a little weed. But Carver can get jumpy, and Jesse wants him to have a good time. Maybe unclench and actually enjoy himself for a minute, if that's even possible. He nods approvingly at the way Carver takes a drag. ]

Yeah, that's it. C'mon.

[ There aren't a lot of places to sit here, so he takes his joint over to the bed, hopping up and settling back against the wall. ]

[ There's a moment where Carver pauses, eyeing Jesse with a familiar suspicion. Looking for the angle, for the trick, for the knife that's about to sink into his throat. But there isn't one. It's just Jesse, expression open and honest, and his eyes - which are so fucking blue even when Carver's not tripping off his gourd.

He takes another drag and then, very gingerly, he sits down on the bed next to Jesse. It's big enough that they aren't touching, but only just. ]

You do this a lot?

[ Jesse nods, raising the joint to his lips again. There's no point in hiding it. Who he is, how he spends his time. He's already in prison, after all, and Carver doesn't seem like the type to rat him out anyway. ]

Yeah. Weed, crystal sometimes.

[ He glances over at Carver. Sitting next to him on the bed. He still looks a little stiff and uncomfortable, but hey, it's progress. ]

You had a rough time with the coke, huh?

[ His tone is understanding - sympathetic without being patronizing. Sometimes a hit just goes bad. It sucks that it had happened to Carver. ]

[ Crystal. That’s crystal meth, right? Carver’s eyebrows go up but he doesn’t sneer at Jesse for it. Maybe they’re beyond that now. Carver’s starting to feel a little warm, maybe. Not settled, but—

Getting there. Maybe. Or at least not quite so likely to startle if Jesse moves too fast.

He snorts at the question, taking another drag. ]

I got shot. Armor took the worst of it. Didn’t feel a thing until I came down. Probably would’ve been worse with meth, though.

[ He imagines, anyway. The come down wasn’t fun. ]

Holy shit...

[ Jesse's eyes go wide. Yeah, that's a rough time. To put it mildly. He stares at Carver, eyes darting down to his chest as if he might somehow see the bullet hole, or the scar it had left, but of course there's nothing. ]

Guess it's better than feeling it happen though, right?

[ Although maybe not. Coming down from a high isn't the best feeling in the world as it is, much less compounded with the pain of being shot. Not that Jesse even knows what that feels like. He winces in sympathy.]

Yeah. Hurts like a bitch unless you're adrenaline's going real hard.

[ He's gotten grazed more times than he cares to count. Had bullets dug out of him. And then the priest with the shotgun turned out to be a crack shot with a stolen rifle and that was just that. Carver's got the scar as a constant reminder of his fuckups. Seems fitting.

Carver tips his head back, watching the smoke as it spirals. ]

Why'd you say yes to this, anyway?

[ Jesse winces again, then nods. He can't imagine what it's like, not really. But he can guess, close enough. Anything to avoid that initial stab of pain, right?

He takes another drag, holding it and breathing out slow before he glances at Carver. For a moment, he's unsure. Is this a trick question? With Carver, it can be hard to tell.

But there's really no point in telling anything but the truth, is there? Jesse shrugs, arranging himself a little more comfortably on the bed. ]

You needed help, right?

[ Which is part of it. Partly, he'd just been glad Carver had been willing to talk to him again at all, after last time. He'd been eager to make it up to him if he could, even if getting caught in the rain like that hadn't been anyone's fault. ]

Besides. [ He grins, trying to play it off a little. ] Why would I pass up the chance to get high?

[ Of course, he'd said yes far before Carver's "altered mood" kink had been brought up...but maybe Carver won't remember that. Or won't point that little fact out, if he does. ]

[ Carver eyes him but doesn't argue the point. Could've gotten high with anyone around here, all of them better company. But instead Jesse's here, in Carver's space, and they're getting high like this is a normal thing to do. Like Carver hasn't acted like a freak nearly every time they collide. ]

People don't help each other back home, [ he says finally. And that's probably a sign the weed's kicking in because you don't say that shit, you don't. ] Not unless they're family. It's always a trick in the end.

[ Carver's unpredictable, yeah. Difficult, more often than not. But Jesse's known too many freaks to call him one.

Besides, he likes Carver. Maybe even he couldn't really say why, but it's true. It's a little victory every time he smiles, every time he even relaxes a little, and more and more Jesse finds himself craving his approval, or at least his acceptance. Eager for Carver not to hate him.

He's silent for a moment, thinking about that. Family, helping each other? Not in Jesse's experience. What little help or support he'd ever had in his life he'd always had to find elsewhere. ]

Your family's not here, yo. Who else you gonna trust?

[ He speaks carefully, watching Carver like a hawk. Hoping that the weed's mellowed him enough that he won't snap.

He'd asked Jesse for help. Agreed to this. That has to mean something, right? ]

I ain't gonna trick you, man.

[ That just gets a shrug. Carver takes another drag, watching Jesse, and then exhales. ]

You will by the end. It's not personal.

[ He shrugs again. He watches the smoke. ]

But I'm faster than you, even when I'm high. So if you get the drop on me, that's my own fault.

[ It's not personal, he says... but it feels kind of personal, and Jesse has to shove back a sudden stab of hurt. What's he ever done to Carver to make him not trust him like that?

It's not him, though. He knows that. And he's still young and impulsive enough to rise to the bait. One eyebrow shoots up, and he scoffs, eyeing Carver. ]

I can be pretty fast, yo.

[ Carver snorts, giving Jesse a look. But not a sharp one, in the end. Apparently the weed's kicking in, softening the edges a bit. Slowing things down. ]

Uh huh. Sure you can.

I can.

[ And maybe the drugs are working on Jesse, too. Making him a little restless, a little less careful than usual. Whatever it is, he stares up at Carver for a moment, eyes wide and blue... and then he moves, one hand shooting for Carver's waist. He's not trying to attack him, or even restrain him. Just...surprise him, maybe? Just prove to him that yeah, he can be fast too.

It's probably a terrible idea. But it's far from the first Jesse's ever had]

[ Considering the conversation, and the way Jesse's eyeing him, it's not exactly a surprise. Carver takes another long drag and then sets the blunt aside, and that's when Jesse just grabs for him.

Carver snaps out a hand, grabbing for Jesse's wrist. He doesn't try to hurt him, not really. That's not the point. Instead, he just hefts it, and gives Jesse a curious look. ]

What was that, huh?

Nothin'.

[ But Carver hadn't been lying - he is fast, even high. And now he's got Jesse's wrist clasped in his hand - not tight enough to hurt, but firm and unyielding. He tests it a little, wriggling in Carver's grip, and quickly gives up.

He keeps his eyes fixed on Carver's the whole time. ]

Just seeing how fast you really are.

[ He’s wearing gloves — an old, familiar habit. It’s easier to keep them on unless he’s eating or doing something that requires truly fine motor control. You have to protect your hands. If his hands get fucked up, he can’t shoot, can’t fight. And then what use would he be to anyone? But there’s a moment where he wonders what it’d feel like if he didn’t right now, if he’d be able to feel Jesse’s pulse against his fingers.

Carver cants his head, watching Jesse. He doesn’t try to hurt him, but he doesn’t let go, either. ]

I don’t want to fight right now.

Me neither.

[ He doesn't ever, not really. Not with Carver, and especially not right now.

But Carver's still holding his wrist, still maintaining eye contact, and Jesse feels his heartbeat and his breathing both speed up, just a little. He swallows hard. ]

Hey...

[ His voice is soft, and he pokes the tip of his tongue out, running it over the seam of his lips. ]

Your sentence... it ain't just about getting high, y'know.

[ "Altered mood," sure. But they're not supposed to stop there. ]

[ Carver tips his head back, watching Jesse for a long moment. The cut of his jaw, the way his throat bobs when he swallows. How goddamn blue his eyes are. And how he doesn't pull his wrist out of Carver's grip. Doesn't even try.

Funny, that. ]

You know what you want?

[ HIs voice is soft. He squeezes Jesse's wrist briefly. ]

Hmm?

Yeah.

[ He hadn't really wanted anything, when he'd agreed to this. It had been a favor, more than anything. Honestly, he would have agreed to just about anything, just to regain and stay in Carver's good graces.

But now? With Carver's hand solid and warm around his wrist, his eyes dark and intense as he watches Jesse?

Yeah, now he wants. Now he knows.

He leans in - it doesn't take much - and presses his lips to Carver's own. Gentle, at first. Testing, seeing how he reacts. ]

[ It’s slow. Not fearful, but careful, and that throws him more than it ought to. There’s a moment where Carver doesn’t move, and barely breathes. He could stand up and kick Jesse ought, be done with this. It wouldn’t mean anything at all.

Instead, he squeezes Jesse’s wrist and shifts to catch Jesse’s chin in his hand and kiss him back. Why not?

Why the fuck not? ]

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