ArchivedLogs:Deboned

Deboned
Dramatis Personae Toru, Trib
In Absentia	2013-07-27 Toru comes over to Trib's after talking to Peter and the twins.
Location <NYC> 311 {Trib} - Sunrise Apartments
There is no furniture in this apartment. That's the main thing that's noticeable. Well, almost no furniture. There is a battered lawn chair and an equally battered card table with a small, ancient radio sitting on it; the latter is often littered with newspapers and playing cards. And shoved up under the sole window is a battered arm chair, upholstered in a cowboy print fabric. There is no art, although on one wall, there are the beginnings of what appears to be a collage of pictures and articles -- most boxing, although there are a few news stories and glossy physique images from muscle magazines that have made the cut. Through the small, dingy kitchen is the entrance to the bedroom, where a new-looking platform holds an oversized bed – the only piece of furniture in there. The door to the bathroom is closed, but it's probably equally uncluttered in there. When Toru arrives at Trib's apartment, he's dressed in his usual t-shirt and shorts, though today he doesn't come with vehicle or messenger bag. And, as usual, he's made it into the building by following behind another tenant, taking the elevator up to the third floor. Today, however, he's rather a bit more stiff than usual; literally, really. His arms and legs are both almost entirely covered in that ivory tinge his flesh gets when it's gone to bone; joints are as they should be, but gradually fading in and out of bone, and it ends just below his neck. By the time he does get to Trib's door, he's just about stuck with his legs partially bent, one hand stuck in 'knocking' position, the other hanging at his side. Knocks on the door are hard, with a slightly long delay between each, and a slightly pained voice yelling, "TRIIIIIIB! I need you out here!" It's only a moment after Toru calls out that the door swings open, and there is Trib. Dressed in a pair of shorts and nothing else, he looks a little annoyed at the call -- although it fades quickly when he sees the state of Toru. "Jesus fuck," he grunts, and PLUCKS the teenager from the hall, carrying him into the living room and setting him down. "Don't move," he rumbles without irony, and goes back to lock the door. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Each lock gets its own 'fuck' as it's slid home, each one a worried-sounding growl. Then he's back in front of Toru, his brow furrowed in concern. "What." Isn't exactly a question. More like a greeting. Big hands raise, as if to grab the smaller man again, only to fall back to his side. "What do I do, pup?" "Calm down, I just--" Toru bites his lip, looking up at Trib like, well, a puppy who's just made a mess on the floor. "I'm okay I just-- kind of need you, um.. hold me?" This is said a little weakly; even still, a bit of that tinge has started to work its way out of his lower legs, and he cautiously lifts himself up and down on his ankles just to check. Yep, everything's fine there. "This sort of. Happens. When I get really mad I just need to calm down and-- I mean I don't mean to sound all queer or nothin' but at the moment the best thing I can figure to help with that would be, uh, if we laid down or... something." Trib doesn't look convinced that it's nothing to worry about, and his concerned look begins to shift to one of frustration for a thing he can't fix by PUNCHING. "Hold you," he echoes, his eyebrows knitting as he wraps his head around that. The ankle flex draws his attention to the floor immediately, and he looks back up with a nod. "Okay." And that seems to be all that needs to be said, since the boxer is gathering the teenager into his arms and lifting him. "What the fuck's got you so mad that you nearly turned yourself into a fuckin' statue?" he asks in a gentle rumble as he moves towards the bedroom. There are mattresses on the platform, now! With sheets! And pillows! It looks like an actual bedroom, even if it smells like fresh-out-of-the-package linens. But at least there's a soft place to settle Toru, and that's what Trib does, easing down next to him before gathering him back in his arms. "Now talk." It isn't exactly a magical fix, but Toru is at least very gradually getting back to normal. Arms haven't followed, yet, so they're still in that awkwardly solid position, but he's able to bend his knees enough to slowly work his shoes off. "What do you /think/ has me so mad, man?" he answers with a sigh, settling his head onto a pillow. He has a hard time making eye contact with Trib, instead opting to awkwardly nestle himself in against the boxer, burying his face in the man's shoulder. "...didn't occur to me that I don't actually /feel/ anything like this," he mumbles, a little annoyed at the thought. "--I mighta hunted down the. Shark fucks." Another sigh, there. "I didn't really. Work out well." Pausing, there, he brings his now bare foot forward, to rub absently against Trib's leg. "...At all." The explanation gets a hefty sigh from Trib, and he closes his eyes in a mildly pained expression. "Pup." It sounds like there /might/ be an admonishment in there. "You gotta stop bein' so fuckin' angry about this." He rubs his hands along Toru's back, and along the back of his arms in what is probably supposed to be a soothing gesture but is in reality more like he's trying to start a fire as he thinks. "I was mad about it, yeah, but it ain't worth expendin' energy over. /I/ know it ain't fuckin' true, an' /you/ know it ain't fuckin' true, an' that's all that matters in the long run." He smiles a little, his mouth lifting at one corner. "An' it don't take no effort to just fuckin' avoid them kids." Apparently, though, it does, and Trib's expression darkens when Toru confesses to tracking the twins down. "What. The. Fuck?" He sits up, unwrapping his arms so that he can examine Toru. Maybe he's looking for shark bites as he pushes Toru's shirt up. "What were you fuckin' thinkin'?" He rumbles, turning the teen this way and that as he inspects. "I fuckin' told you they was fuckin' dangerous. They didn't fuckin' hurt you, did they?" "No, I'm fuckin'.. I'm fine." Toru shakes his head weakly, the arm stuck in 'knock' position moving forward just a bit to touch Trib, and in the process coming mostly unboned itself. "We just kinda... yelled a lot. They pretty much admitted you didn't even fucking do /shit/ but--" There's a sigh, there. "But apparently they got some kinda grudge regardless." Even as Trib inspects him, his skin situation is gradually sorting itself out, though the one thing Trib will notice is that as Toru's hands go back to normal, they show knuckles that were recently bloodied, though they've started to scab over. "You know I gotta short fuse, man, and I just.. was just so /pissed/ that all they had to do was say somethin', and be kids, and they get away with fucking up your shit because nobody wants to look like they're supportin' some kinda creep." Now that he's physically capable of doing so, he gently nudges one of Trib's hands away, rolling onto his back to look at the ceiling. "One of 'em called /me/ sick for bein' with you, I guess he figures I'm supportin' your bein' whatever they think you are, I don't even fucking know. I figured I could get 'em to see it was a misunderstanding and straighten things out with your boss, but they're just a couple little fuckin' psychos." Trib sighs, lifting one of those scabbed hands and inspecting it carefully before he lets it drop and settles back down to the pillows. "I've been thinkin' about it," he says. "An' those kids -- they've probably seen some shit. They handled themselves around the cages like they was familiar with that kind of shit. An' you know how ugly that shit can get." He drops his hands to his chest. "An' they're so fuckin' small -- I can see where they'd think I was maybe after somethin' I wasn't." He scrubs at his face as he works it out verbally. "That don't make how they're actin' /right/, but I can't fault 'em for thinkin' that way. What I got to do now is focus on a way to get away from that shit, an' move on." There's a nudge of meaty elbow to Toru's side. "Both of us," he says. "Before one of us ends up in jail or as fish food." Toru is, more or less, properly fleshy at this point; he rolls back over to curl up against Trib, just thinking quietly for a minute. "For what it's worth I was plannin' on that bein' the last time I did anythin' about it. I guess I figured they could be reasoned with, I dunno." He shakes his head, moving his arms in for a firmer grip. "I just get... really territorial. I mean.. I dunno it isn't like they woulda /hurt/ me." The way he says that, it sounds like he genuinely /believes/ the statement, though he does look up at Trib as if for confirmation, or reassurance. "But... I mean, if you're done bein' mad about it I'll... try and be done bein' mad about it." A hand is run through his hair, brushing at it idly in that usual fidgety gesture of his. "Just, just so you know, I uh... I don't usually get mad like that. Unless somethin' else real bad happens you probably don't have to worry about it again. I'm.. trying to get better at handlin' my shit." He looks down at his hands, then, clenching and unclenching them a few times. "...If nothin' else, so's I don't have to worry about paralyzin' you if I ain't overdressed." Trib seems relieved when Toru slips back into fleshy squeezability, and he reaches to draw the teenager into his chest. "They would have fuckin' /ate/ you, bones an' all," is his non-confirmation, grunted out with little to soften the blow. "I told you -- they're fast, an' all teeth an' claws. They'd have eaten you before you could get properly boned up." His exhalation this time is a rough and annoyed-sounding thing. "An' then /I'd/ get fuckin' eaten, 'cause I wouldn't be able to let that shit go." His own fingers follow Toru's through his hair, and he has a smile -- a weak smile, but a smile -- that plays about his lips. "Plus, I ain't got room for no statue of my boyfriend, so it's better to just breathe, an' move on." Now that there's no danger of being paralyzed, the boxer leans in to plant a kiss on Toru's lips. "If you get that angry, let me know, an' we'll get in a ring an' beat the tar out of each other." "You really ain't helpin' my ego any, here," Toru notes, with just a hint of play-petulance. But now that hugs are happening, he's more than happy to settle in comfortably, though he actually rolls over to face away from Trib, bringing the larger man's arms around him so that he can hug them firmly. "Well, the only place I ever seen 'em is a place I never go /anyway/, I just had an inklin' that someone I knew there would know 'em but it turned out they were there anyway. I wasn't really /plannin'/ on runnin' into 'em when I did. Maybe if I hadn't then I'da changed my mind before runnin' into 'em, I dunno." He's quiet for a moment, his grip on those arms maintaining a steady hold, but after a few quiet moments he adds, in a quieter voice, "My.. bone thing.. the first time it happened was when I was about this pissed, when I was little." "I ain't tryin' to soothe your ego," Trib rumbles, digging a finger into Toru's side. "I'm tryin' to keep you alive." He listens in silence as Toru explains, his mouth setting into a line. "Well, next time, just leave 'em alone," he says when Toru finishes. "They're just kids, an' they don't know half of what they think they do." He wrinkles his nose. "Not that we're that much older than 'em, but still." Then he's happy to slip into those quiet moments, watching the press of fingers into his flesh. When Toru begins to speak again, his golden gaze lifts to meet the teenager's. "How old were you?" "Twelve," Toru mumbles, breaking eye-contact with some small amount of discomfort. He's sort of regretting bringing it up, already, but after a moment he continues, slowly. "Kazuo played baseball, for school. Was super into it, went to games when he could and all, y'know?" Taking a deep breath, there, he suddenly shakes his head, rolling to face Trib again, and gripping the man tightly. "...Nevermind, forget it." He's looking down towards his feet, shaking like a leaf. "Guess I don't really wanna talk about it after all. I just... bottom line is I got scared. That they'd find some way of fuckin' you over. One of 'em said they'd kill you if you-- if they see you again. And I gotta hard time believin' /that/ but... I don't deal with that shit easy." Trib doesn't speak as Toru works through what he can of his story, and when he breaks it off, the only response the boxer offers is a sympathetic narrowing of his eyes. Shaking Torus get extra cuddles, and Trib shifts to pull the teenager over onto his chest, reaching up with his left hand to press his head against the bulk of his chest. He doesn't speak, but there's a rumble in his chest that rattles like a deep purr. When Toru mentions the threat from the twins, he stiffens momentarily, then relaxes. "Pup." It's warm, and from deep in his chest. "You're just givin' 'em power over you. Us. We gotta just..." he inhales through his nose sharply. "Keep our heads. Think. We was on the ropes, an' it's a tough fuckin' fight, but we gotta focus on the points we can win." He rubs his hands along Toru's spine. "So neither of us has to deal with that kind of shit." The spine-rub elicits a sound that's almost a chirr from the teen, who rests his head against Trib's chest, planting a little kiss there. "I'm sorry for makin' you worry," he finally answers, quietly. A hand is lifted to rub against Trib's chest, gradually making its way around his back. "My head ain't always on straight. I shoulda talked to you before I did it, it was kinda... an impulse thing, y'know? I just take that kinda shit /personal/." Tilting his head back up, he eventually manages to make eye-contact with Trib again, complete with a cautious little smile. "No more of that shit from now on, I think I'm kinda tired of bein' angry. It kinda takes a lot outta me." Trib rumbles a dismissive noise. "I don't think you gotta apologize for anything," he grunts. "I mean, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, sometimes. Just be careful, is all I'm askin'." He grins up at the ceiling, and shifts his weight to allow Toru's hand to slide under his back. "We both kind of lost our heads with this," he admits. "But no more." He nods when Toru makes his decision, and his arms tighten around the teenager. "Bein' angry all the time is wearyin' as /fuck/," he says. "An' it turns a person into a big asshole, an' you've already got that down, yeah?" His eyes crinkle with the tease, and he waggles his eyebrows. "So it's really just energy you could be usin' for other things." He waves a hand. "Like noticin' how we're layin' in an actual fuckin' /bed/." Biting his lip, Toru attempts to fight back a grin. "I was gettin' to that!" His free hand strokes along the sheets gently, and he gives a brief lift of the eyebrows. "This is hell of a lot more comfortable than the old setup. Shit, it's hell of a lot more comfortable than my goddamn /couch/." Suddenly, then, he gets a bit of a concerned look on his face, and that lip-bite turns into a bit of a nervous gnawing. "I might end up wantin' to spend more time over here, y'know. I don't want to like... move /that/ quickly or anything, but maybe in a couple months we oughtta start thinkin' about... consolidatin' our shit a little." He lets a moment pass, but then hastily adds, "I mean, we don't gotta think about it yet or talk about it or anything, I'm just thinkin' out loud, sometimes I have dumb thoughts." "Yeah, well," Trib's eyes crinkle as Toru feels the sheets, and the lift of his shoulders is enough to jostle the teenager, a little. "I figured we needed some room to cuddle proper, an' I wasn't goin' to do much more fightin' or trainin' with that kind of wear on my back." Sudden nervousness gets a sly smile, and the boxer chuckles. "It ain't a dumb thought," he rumbles, lifting his head to plant an awkward kiss along Toru's upper lip. "Just early. But I figure we'll get there." Another kiss. "Eventually." "Jeez, I didn't even think about like, workin' out." Toru lets out a little burst of air, at that thought. "I mean, I was wakin' up pretty stiff but I figured it was... y'know, combination of. Things." That thought elicits the teen's own sly little grin, but he shakes his head a little, to dismiss it. "Early. Yeah. But, y'know, nice to think about." The kiss is returned gently, eyes closed as he leans in against Trib. "See, you've gone and got me all calmed down and shit. I told you you were good at that. I spend too long with you I'm gonna end up turnin' into a fuckin' schoolteacher or somethin', y'know." Trib chuckles, and rolls his shoulders at Toru's guess for morning stiffness, and his grin turns sly. "Well, that wasn't helpin' anything, either," he grunts, and tightens an arm. "It /is/ nice to think about," he says. "I didn't think I'd be the kind of guy who'd go for that kind of thing, but." He chuckles, and ruffles at the teenager's hair affectionately. Which means that it lacks the pressure needed to strip the hair from Toru's scalp. "I would hate to be a kid in /that/ fuckin' schoolhouse," he teases. "Unless I was majorin' in being mouthy." "Hmph, whatever," Toru grumbles in response to that tease, though he doesn't actually seem upset by it. "If you'll remember, until like two weeks ago I was pretty much all like... whatcha wanna call it. In denial about likin' guys." Though a thought does occur to him. "Then again, maybe that's just your real mutant power is makin' me be into you." A grin, there, to indicate that he's joking. And then he's yawning, stretching his arms as best he can with them rather pinned under Trib. "I could use a nap, I think; I'm more like a fuckin' /cat/ than a dog, y'know," he mumbles, then laughs quietly at his little joke. "But later on we should probably make sure this thing's stable. Y'know, for safety."