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maskormenace
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Up to R for language, individual threads/comments to be marked with warnings accordingly in the subject header if you plase.
Up to R for language, individual threads/comments to be marked with warnings accordingly in the subject header if you plase.
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by now, teddy is a less greenish shade of blue. and standing just the right height that when he leans his forehead forward, it touches billy's and their eyelids tangle for a brief moment.
(in the background, kavinsky has switched his phone to selfie-mode. he's applying the native equivalent of snapchat filters to himself over photobombs. the tabloids, he thinks, are gonna love it.)]
I'm sorry I left you alone, [teddy says.]
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[He leans his forehead in, and then there's suddenly a few flying pigs around. Like tiny pigs with tiny wings.
They are mostly clustered around Kavinsky, cheers hallucination.]
Oh, what the hell-
[Billy holds onto Teddy's arm, but it's starting to slowly feel less solid.]
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and then he pulls a pistol out of the back of his pants, and points it at one of the improbable little pictures, experimentally. fortunately, neither billy nor his ex-boyfriend are actually in his line of sight.] Hey, [he calls out.] Can I get chicken pork if I cap one of these little fuckers? H--whoa.
[he notices finally, billy's fingers going through part of teddy's arm. and blinks.] Ummm.
[teddy says,] Maybe tomorrow, [and then that's the last thing teddy says.]
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[Teddy vanishes through Billy's fingers and he looks stricken, torn up. He looks at Kavinsky, wide-eyed, and back down at his hands. The pigs are still fluttering about.
Then Billy's hands are over his face. He's not crying, but it's a close thing.]
Shit, shit, shit.
[And he looks back at Kavinsky, and reaches a hand out, as if to say, no, it's okay.]
Um, I should go back to the shop, right? Fuck.
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[kavinsky catches the other boy by the wrist, unconcerned. at this point in his life, he's very much under the impression that it'll take a great deal more than this to kill him. he tugs billy over, then promptly wraps his arm around the mutant's neck.]
We're going to the fucking beach. You're gonna see patterns in the sky and the fucking sea. I'm gonna get fifty vodkas with umbrellas in them.
[apocalypses never start at the beach, anyway. kavinsky's teeth are huge and white against his face.]
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And then Billy presses his forehead against Kavinsky's and breathes. No one has called him baby in a long time.]
Okay.
[And he'll go and ride out the rest of this high with K. Nothing bad happens on beaches.]