ArchivedLogs:Where You Fit

Where You Fit
Dramatis Personae Toru, Trib
In Absentia	2013-12-28 Some pillow talk. Warning: Adult Content (SFW, but still)
Location <NYC> 311 {Trib} - Sunrise Apartments - Clinton
For a room in the Sunrise building, this apartment is pretty well-furnished. There isn't much in the way of art - though on one wall, there are the beginnings of what appears to be a collage of articles; most boxing, although there are a few news stories and glossy physique images from muscle magazines. Against one wall is a plush brown couch is wedged between matching end tables, with a matching ottoman seated in front of it, and a blue throw blanket draped over the back. Set diagonally from that, next to a brass floor lamp, is a matching brown recliner - clearly, the three are part of a set. Decidedly /not/ matching that furniture is another couch on an opposing wall with stripes in varying widths in shades of blue, green, teal and brown; this one is a bit cheaper looking, with canvas upholstery and bare wood arms. Under it all, a mottled brown-and-ivory rug covers the hardwood floor. The only other wall with only space has a set of hooks screwed into it, which usually has a blue street bicycle hanging from it, and a skateboard leaning against the wall on the floor beneath it. The whole living room feels a bit cramped, though the relative lack of clutter keeps it from feeling too over-crowded. 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 likely stocked with bathroom-appropriate accoutrements. The morning after the gym trip, which involved a certain teen pushing himself a bit further on the rowing machine than he should have, Toru is laying face-down in bed, arms stretched up over his head, face only tilted far enough to the side to allow himself to breathe. He slept only intermittently through the night, although when he did sleep it was at least a heavy slumber; still, when he wakes up for the last time and sees that it's starting to get light out, he gives up on trying to sleep any more - even though it's rather a bit earlier than he's usually awake - and turns his head over to face Trib's side of the bed and groans, "Fiiiiiish." One arm weakly paws over in the boxer's direction, though he winces with the motion. "Wake /up/." The workout (and the usual aftermath) seem to have taken their own toll on the boxer. He sleeps much in the same fashion as Toru; face-down and slumbering heavily. He doesn't even so much as shift his weight when Toru awakens, offering instead a small snort that he would no way admit was an actual snore. When Toru touches him, and calls his name with that wince in his voice, it all changes in a heartbeat. The boxer comes up immediately, snapping awake like someone's thrown a switch. His torso comes up as he rocks back on his knees, and his gaze is disoriented when he snaps it around the room. "Thefuckshappening." Toru just about jerks back with surprise, though it's really more of a /swaying/ motion than anything; a slight recoil, which gradually leads to a warm little half-smile. "Goddamn, no wonder I always wait til after you're awake to stop sleepin'." With that said, he manages to pull himself closer to the boxer, slowly rolling onto his back; those arms are still just about locked up above his head, but he slides in so that his head is under Trib's, looking up at him with a slightly widening smile. "Are you always this fuckin' /sore/ after the gym? This is like.. the worst shit, man." It takes a minute for Trib's sleepy brain to realize that there's no immediate threat, and he blinks slowly as he raises his left hand to grind at his eye with the heel of his hand. "The fuck time is it?" he growls, twisting his head around to peer at the small window and the gathering light beyond. He doesn't seem to be coming awake as easily as he usually does, easing back down to the mattress to pin Toru beneath him gently. "Y' get used to it," he mumbles, grinding his nose into the teenager's shoulder. "More you go, less it hurts." There's a sound that sounds like an encroaching snore that is vibrated against Toru's skin, and then another nose grind. "The fuck you doin' up so early?" "I'm /up/ 'cause I didn't sleep great. I dunno what time it is, I've only been awake a couple minutes." Despite whining about soreness, though, he's willing enough to lower his arms and wrap them around Trib's shoulders, though there is some definite tension in his torso when he does it. "I think this is what my legs felt like when I started bikin' seriously, though, now that I think of it." He twists his head around to plant a firm kiss into Trib's hair, taking in a deep breath and then gnawing gently before he continues, thoughtfully, "Is this too early to have a real talk? Nothin' like... /bad/ just. You know how my brain gets workin' when I have too much time to myself." "Jesus," Trib groans against Toru's shoulder, his tone bordering on another growl. "Before we've even had any fuckin' coffee? You /do/ have too much fuckin' time to yourself." With a little grumble, however good-natured, Toru twists a little under Trib. He's quiet for a minute, opening his mouth to chew on a mouthful of Trib's hair, exhaling slowly through his nose. "Maybe you're right," he finally concedes, with a little squeeze of his arms. "It can wait." There's a little nod there, hair snuffled at a bit more, though the teen makes no move to actually get up. "I feel like we switched places, how come you're so tired?" "No," Trib rumbles, rubbing his stubbly chin against Toru's shoulder in a slow grind. "If it's somethin' that's on your mind, I'd rather talk about it now than have it fuckin' eatin' at you all day." There's amusement in his voice as he says this, although when he raises his head, his brows are furrowed deeply. The question gets a snort, and a finger dug into the teenager's side. "I'm /tired/ 'cause I had a big workout last night, an' then I got jumped in my goddamned livin' room." He wrinkles his nose. "An' the kitchen. An' the shower. An' the bedroom." He lifts his eyebrows pointedly. "Talkin' about /switchin' places/. I'll be lucky if I can even piss in a goddamned straight line today." Once Trib starts /listing/, Toru tilts his head back, hiding a smile while also smacking the boxer on the back a few times, eventually breaking into a laugh. "Shut /up/. Whatever, you can usually manage better'n /that/, you're just gettin' fuckin' /old/." He lets out a little sigh at the end, there, dropping his arms back to the bed and squirming a bit. "Mmph. It's sorta about that though. That guy at the gym--" Frowning, he gnaws on his lip for a moment, but ultimately decides to just come out with it. "I am not accusin' /you/ of nothin' but did you not notice how much he was creepin' on you?" "Six times ain't gettin' old," Trib growls. "Shower counts as twice, even if the towel bar /did/ break." He winces in memory, and drops his head against Toru's shoulder. "/Fuck/. That means I gotta go to the hardware store an' get the shit to fix it." He doesn't sound /that/ upset about having to go, though. Just...inconvenienced. He stills as Toru mentions Lucien, and then chuffs a warm, breathy laugh against the teenager. "He's a whore," he says simply. "That's kind of what they do." Toru just smiles a little goofily at Trib's objection, with perhaps a hint of pride in his expression, but the explanation about Lucien's profession hits the teen like a punch in the gut. "That--" His voice is a bit strained, but he presses on, "That ain't really /reassuring/." He shakes his head a few times, looping an arm around Trib's shoulder again, this time pushing a bit insistently to try and turn the boxer over onto his back. "I dunno if you caught him callin' me /jealous/ but I wasn't /jealous/," his tone is a bit defensive as he says this, sliding both arms up to wrap around Trib's neck. "I just thought he was bein' pretty... /presumptuous/." Trib rolls easily when nudged, and when he lands on his back, it's impossible to miss the smile on his face. The one that says that suppressed laughter lurks just below the surface. To his credit, though, Trib does /not/ laugh. Instead, he rolls his shoulders. "You can call it what you want," he rumbles, digging fingers into Toru's side again. "But we both know you was fuckin' jealous. Possessive, even. You even /said/ that." He shakes his head, and skims his hands up to tangle in the teenager's hair and hold him in place. "We ain't never talked about it, because it ain't come up before, but I figure if Lucien's contacts are good, we probably fuckin' /need/ to." There's a deep breath, then, that raises Toru and lowers him in a smooth movement. "You're goin' to have to get used to people bein' like that with me. It kind of comes with the job." "There's a difference between jealous and possessive," Toru mumbles, closing his eyes to relax a moment as he settles in comfortably. "Jealous'd be if I thought there was somethin' goin' on on your side, and I know there ain't." Though with a frown, he does tilt his head up, sliding a hand down to dig it into Trib's ribs. Gently, but there is that hint of warning, there. "/Right/? 'Cause I /trust/ you?" He does sound more amused than anything when he gets to that point, no /real/ hint of accusation in his words. "Anyway, I let you work out with the guy, didn't I? I ain't gonna try and stop that kinda thing from happenin', I just.. it made me remember why I was so mad about that shit with Sharpe." He lets out a slow breath, grinding his teeth for a moment before he continues. "I don't like people talkin' like there's some reason we shouldn't be together." "Maybe they think you're too good for me," Trib drawls. "I mean, I'm just some fuckin' palooka from Jersey. People get ideas about what kind of people I should be fuckin'." He grins, and rolls his shoulder. "Anyway, fuck 'em. It's just fuckin' talk. People flap their fuckin' gums about shit they don't know anything about all the fuckin' time." He loops his arms around the teenager, pressing him into his chest. "An' in my world, talkin' /shit/ is a big part of the game. Gettin' under the other guy's skin, to throw 'em off. An' they'll try to do it to me through you, that's a fuckin' fact." He takes another deep breath, and exhales slowly. "So you gotta learn to recognize what to fuckin' respond to, an' /who/." "That wasn't really the impression I was gettin', but I guess you'd know better." This is mumbled again, into Trib's shoulder, as Toru moves to get himself comfortable again with the boxer's shifting position. "I dunno, this kinda politic stuff and me not really-- I don't really fit in in that parta your life." He shrugs, tilting his head up to plant a little kiss on Trib's chin. "Which is totally okay. It's probably better you got your own stuff. And if that is the kinda thing that goes on, you don't really need to worry about me bein' some kinda weak link, yeah?" Trib chuffs a laugh at Toru's protest, and shakes his head without comment. As Toru continues speaking, though, a growl rises in his chest. "You fit into my life wherever the fuck I decide you fit," he declares. "An' that ain't a fuckin' negotiable point. So you can stow /that/ shit somewhere you can't fuckin' reach it no more." He rolls, then, pinning the teenager beneath him again and shifting his hips meaningfully with a rise of his eyebrows. "Well," he drawls, glancing down between them. "Looks like I still got some ammo left. You wanna fuckin' keep goin' down this path, or can I fuckin' show you where else you fuckin' fit?" When he's rolled onto his back, Toru's arms flop back up above his head again, but Trib's shift in demeanor has the teen grinning widely, his skin prickling suddenly with a wave of goosebumps. One hand is brought down to rub Trib's shoulder and upper arm firmly, gripping once he finds a good hand-hold, and once he gets himself settled in he finally murmurs, "You think I'm gonna stop you when you're in this kinda mood? I don't even remember what we were talkin' about." Trib's grin at that is wide and wicked-looking. "/Good/ pup."