( luci starts confidently strutting in a random direction danny assumes that he must assume is the exit. before he follows in quiet step behind him, he glances up at the twilight sky one last time, wistfully scanning for anomalies. john had told him once that he'd always come for him, but that was before he'd left and house had gone with him shortly after, promising to return once he'd fetched danny and jem's misplaced daddy as if he was an old man lost and confused in the woods instead of just gone the way danny knew he was. gone out for milk and cigarettes and never came back, an unsolved mystery made for public television. his kids left behind like all his other clothes and belongings, abandoned to the miserable rot of aging.
in their absence, he'd felt fourteen and insufferably angsty again, wondering why his daddy wasn't like little billy's daddy down the road, passing out i love yous in public and juiceboxes at hockey games. in retrospect, little billy had been a smug fucking cunt. little billy got a hockey stick to the fucking throat, and danny got a juicebox and blood on his jersey and his daddy's hand palming the back of his head on the car ride home.
again, nothing. again, no one's coming for him. danny shadows luci's shoulder and thinks about anything other than daddies, like luci's chubby dick still tucked in the waistband of his trousers. he wonders if luci needs to piss. )
Gold, ( cheeky. ) Nah, it's black, you're right. Lucky guess, ( cheekier. his pace hitches as he jogs a little to catch up with him, perfectly aware that they're going in one big circle and perfectly content not to mention it. less cheeky, more nonchalant: ) Hey, do you want your dick sucked?
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in their absence, he'd felt fourteen and insufferably angsty again, wondering why his daddy wasn't like little billy's daddy down the road, passing out i love yous in public and juiceboxes at hockey games. in retrospect, little billy had been a smug fucking cunt. little billy got a hockey stick to the fucking throat, and danny got a juicebox and blood on his jersey and his daddy's hand palming the back of his head on the car ride home.
again, nothing. again, no one's coming for him. danny shadows luci's shoulder and thinks about anything other than daddies, like luci's chubby dick still tucked in the waistband of his trousers. he wonders if luci needs to piss. )
Gold, ( cheeky. ) Nah, it's black, you're right. Lucky guess, ( cheekier. his pace hitches as he jogs a little to catch up with him, perfectly aware that they're going in one big circle and perfectly content not to mention it. less cheeky, more nonchalant: ) Hey, do you want your dick sucked?
( or a receptacle to piss in. )