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      ── “i’m bored. it sucks here in winter.” he wasn’t sure what else he could have expected for maryland, for baltimore, but he felt let down regardless. everything was cold and sluggish and weighed-down under a thick coat of rain and overcast, and baz was tired of it. his attention span wasn’t suited towards this sort of december half-hibernation. it’d gone dark enough out--- had a while ago, a singular perk to the time of year as nighttime allowed him more freedom than the day ---so he didn’t feel guilty offering the other a bottle, leaning in to his company with a conspiratorial smile. “you wanna go somewhere ?  worse comes to worst, this thing’s like a rag and a lighter away from a molotov cocktail. at least that’d warm the place up.”

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I know what you’re doing. And it’s not cute. No, it’s not. I’m not just your boytoy, Monse.

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txt to open.

WYATT: this is maybe the.....3rd time i've been in the country for this holiday pls i'm so upset

WYATT: they're sipping out of starbucks cups MENACINGLY

baz: have they spotted u. it may be too late

baz: if they sense u are in the way they will run u over with their minivans

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txt to open.

WYATT: just saw a long line of I Want To Speak To The Manager haircuts watching, waiting... this is so fucking unnerving

WYATT: i wish to purchase a comfortable well fitting sweater for a few dollars, but i didn't work out enough to handle this. someone's mom could BENCH PRESS me

baz: dude rip

baz: dont u know that suburban white moms train for black friday

baz: its their olympics

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what's the last text you sent?

     ── “group message to my roommates. for all the shit my aunt gave us growing up about getting the dishes done, i never thought i’d be the one saying the same to anyone. trying to be the responsible one really doesn’t suit me.”

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what are ur kinks 👀

     ── “that’s such a broad question. are you asking for the basic, general shit ?  so many depend on the person or situation, you know. we’d be here all night if you asked me to list every single one of them. i’ll give you one, though, since you’re clearly curious ; i know everyone makes jokes about choking now, but some of them hit a little close to home.”

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do you prefer length or girth?

     ── “the longer a guy’s dick is, the more it’s a part of his personality. like, if he’s packing something impressive, he’s going to tell you about it well before you could even start to care. dude might have a nice dick, but he’s just going to coast on that and have no idea what the fuck to do with that thing. not worth the headache. does that answer that ?”

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are you scared of anything?

     ── “of course. everyone’s scared of something.”

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what is something that never fails to make you cry?

     ── “honestly, i’m just not that much of a crier. not that i don’t get sad or emotional about shit, cause i definetly do, i just don’t usually cry over it. i gotta be either flat drunk or bleeding to really cry.”

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One person you'd never want to see again?

     ── "anyone who’s ever tried to get me arrested ?  that one bouncer from reno who gave me a concussion and broke my wrist ?  the guy i hooked up with last year who i kind of took money from ?  i’ve got a whole list. if you’re asking for specific names, though, i couldn’t answer as well— i certianly assumed i’d never see sasha again, which really isn’t the same at all, but maybe that counts for something.”

@sashlanes

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ofliability‌:

nevaeh was coming back from art class and rushed to the elevator. she didn’t really take her surroundings in, she was more focused on getting in there before the doors closed. so she didn’t really notice the male standing next to her until she looked up with the intent of saying, ‘first floor please,’ but then looked into his eyes and saw it was baz. she quickly looked away and took out her phone to distract herself. the last time they had spoken to each other wasn’t very pretty. it was pretty clear that the other had been avoiding her, even when she left him paragraphs of text messages. “first…first…floor please,” she managed to spit out after temporarily forgetting how to speak and breathe at the same time. 

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     ── usually, baz knew how to disappear. it wasn’t often that he landed anywhere for long, flighty as he’d go from place to place, from person to person, whenever he grew bored with their familiarity. this habit was mostly born from his recklessness and need for new things to hold his interest, but it was something of a defense mechanism as well--- he was good at running, and he was good at hiding. it helped when he had too much attention circling him from low-level criminals, those who didn’t know how to lose graciously and instead decided to chase him with threats, and he could simply make himself scarce.

it should have been easier than it was, then, to shake nevaeh. he couldn’t simply cut and run as he might have in the past, running off to some new town and leaving others with little options to find him. he’d put too much into mulberry, and it wasn’t worth ditching it all in order to avoid a former hookup gone sour. at least, that’s more what he’d assumed it to be ; he’d thought her to be on the same page, and it’d taken him entirely off guard when she’d come to him with confessions he didn’t know what to do with. baz had gone silent, had ignored the blocks of texts that lit up his phone at odd hours. he hoped that maybe now he could vanish all over again, hide in the spaces around her just out of sight, long enough that she’d forget and move on. he felt guilty, sometimes, though mostly he just felt confused. she’d chosen entirely the wrong person, and he wasn’t completely sure what he’d done to lead her into it.

“sure.” leaning over to press the button, he answered with an easy smile as if nothing was different. it was about as normal as he knew how to be. she seemed out of breath and so baz looked her over, curious. he considered asking her if she was alright, then quickly shoved that aside, knowing that it’d open the door to more of an answer than he’d hope for. instead, he chose something safe. “----you going out ?”

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adriivn‌:

     there’s something to it, that simple answer of i’m rarely bored that poses more questions that it answers. any other time–any other person–and adrian might have asked, but he doesn’t. he knows very little about baz and he enjoys the mystery of it. knowing too much would be spoiling it. anyway, he gets the sense that if baz wanted to talk more about it, he would have.

adrian’s grin is coy in response to the assumption about cigarettes–he isn’t much of a smoker, of course, if at all. not tobacco, anyway. “i’m not,” he hums in lieu of a real answer, intentionally mirroring the essence of an unsatisfactory answer that baz had given him. yet his hand is extended expectantly nonetheless and when the pack is offered to him, he slides one out delicately between two fingers. “can’t be too much of a bad influence if i asked for it, can you?” he transfers it to his lips and digs a lighter out of his own pocket to start it, feeling the headrush of nicotine after just one drag. the smoke is harsh on his throat, which is only accustomed to marijuana, and it makes his eyes water when he’s sober. “gross,” he states placidly and smiles again. “i love it. come on, then! you have money you wanted to spend, right?” he gestures down the street, where a few neon lights blink eerily in the distance. “i really want that coffee now.”

     ── adrian didn’t question his ambiguity, and baz was glad for it. while he was quick to gloss over answers or counter with half-lies, he still preferred to play most anything else close to the chest, in every sense of the phrase. over years of carrying himself through places he didn’t belong, he’d learned how to talk about a great deal of nothing. the other seemed to recognize this and mirrored it in his own retort, a quick clip of two words at which baz let out a breath of a laugh. it felt like a game, and baz had an obvious affinity for such things. he would happily play along.

“no, i guess not. you could do way worse around here, anyway. lucky of you to have only run into me, really. a cigarette is pretty tame.” he took another long drag as if for emphasis and turned from adrian, spotting lights from a diner some block down and setting towards it. he hadn’t made much of a plan past his loitering at the bar and so the distraction was probably a good one, some sobering caffeine to help calm the itch to return to that table and make trouble for himself. the initial rationality that told him it was reckless to call attention to himself was being steadily eaten away by his decidedly lacking impulse control, so getting distance was smart. “suppose i’m gonna have to pay the bill for you too now that i bragged, huh ?”

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The Salt Lake Tribune, Utah, January 27, 1941

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do you prefer giving or recieving head?

     ── “i’d really like to say receiving, but that can be so hit or miss. at least when i’m giving, i know for a fact that i know what i’m doing. giving good head is way better than receiving boring head. plus, it’s fun seeing what people will do or say when you’re going down on them. even the quietest kinds can get really mouthy if you do things right. that shit’s hot.”