( au post ) i become location and you veer towards me.

[calltoaction]

( through darkness,
through silence,
a vector,
a violence.

i labor,
i lumber,
i fumble forward
through the valley
as winter. )

Comments

[crimewar]

Yeah. [ Frank nods, tries to relax when Max's arms are around him. He's small, has always been a lithe and sinewy thing especially in comparison to him, but the warmth and wiry sinew of his form is comforting. The smell of sweat, blood, his shampoo--Frank feels his eyes getting heavier again and a smile coasts his lips. There's some mirth there, if you look close enough, as minute as that smile may be.

His grip grows a little firmer and it's awkward because now Matt's nearly in his lap and the couch is far too small for the two of them, smaller than Frank as Matt may be. And yet, Frank lies his cheek on Matt's shoulder, lets himself be held because fuck if anyone will ever see him like this, and relaxes, eyes fluttering closed as he breathes. ]

Yeah, perfect.

[calltoaction]

[ Matt can't see him anymore, but he remembers what he looks like from before. He can hear the muscles moving that indicate that smile, however slight. Frank smells like Matt's shampoo, currently, but there's this electricity to him that he's not sure how to describe. It's a sort of thing he's picked up since Kandahar.

He doesn't want to move, but the position he's in is a bit awkward. He shifts, because sitting beside him means he breaks the two of them apart, and eventually gives up to straddle his lap. It puts them impossibly close, but it doesn't matter. He can feel the hammering of Frank's heart in his chest, and feel the warmth of his cheek against his shoulder. ]

I'm glad.

[crimewar]

[ They're close, impossibly close, but Frank doesn't see himself extracting from Matt at all, not anytime soon, even if the other smells more and more like blood and grime. Only Maria's touched him like this, sat in his lap like this and held him like this, and he thinks he would take her place in a heartbeat. In the same instant, he knows, innately, that he would do anything for Matt too. ]

I'm tired, Matty. So tired.

[ He looks up at him, then lets his head fall under his chin, needier than he's ever been for anyone besides Maria, again, more earnest too. ] You know I'd do anything for you, right? I wanna... I need to go after them. The ones that did this to me, to Maria, to the babies. I hear them, all the time. They need me.

[calltoaction]

[ This is a good night, then. Sometimes when he comes back he smells worse. It all depends. The day he met Claire he didn't get the scent of the dumpster off of his clothes for about five washes. Never mind the blood he'd soaked through his entire outfit. ]

Yeah. Me too.

[ It isn't something he admits lightly. It's something he feels he can to Frank. Frank understands. He doesn't think anyone else would be able to. He reaches up to get at least one of his gloves off, and then that hand finds its way up to cradle the back of Frank's head, fingers brushing over his hair. It's longer, now, than he ever remembers it being. Mostly because the hospital couldn't have given a shit, or the people that would have were kept too far away from him.

It makes his pulse quicken with upset all over again, almost as bad as the night that the man brought Frank back to his door. ] I know you would. We'll find them. They'll pay for this.

[ He tries not to think about his dad, at least here. He thinks about him a lot when he's out like he was. He thinks about Frank's family to. Sometimes it's that push he needs when he should be down for the count and far too outnumbered. ]