[ marcus probably doesn't mean for his comments to strike billy in any particular way - but they do. billy doesn't really say much, but he does listen, chin tilted down slightly, his gaze having shifted to his shoes left all haphazard on the floor somewhere close to his board. it's almost enough to push billy into taking his hand off of marcus' leg, not necessarily offended, just - unsure, suddenly, if they should really be doing this. if marcus actually wants this, or if he's just throwing billy a pity bone, pun sort of intended.
it wouldn't be the first time anyone screwed around with him out of pity, but it'd be the first time that it would actually bother him, now that he's thinking about it. unintentionally, billy taps his thumb a little against the side of marcus' knee as he thinks, the low hum of anxiety buzzing in his veins finding little ways to burn off.
billy has seen marcus' scars. maybe not all of them, but he's seen enough to know that, like the rest of them, marcus has been through some shit that no one should have to go through. he's got scar right over his goddamn eye, for christ's sake. billy's got scars too, though. maybe not any as intense and as visible as marcus', but gene was almost never caught not wearing a bunch of big, ugly rings. there are dozens and dozens of little knicks and scars all over billy's body, places where gene got carried away, got tired of using his fists and moved on to whatever he could get his hands on to finish the job. places where the skin has split, fixed with super glue because what else was he supposed to do? go to a hospital? go to the cops? about a cop?
maybe marcus is right. maybe people just aren't interested in scars and baggage, maybe that's why people don't stick around. billy tries not to think about it too much. he's just about to take his hand off of marcus' knee, but marcus stops him by putting his own hand down over the back of billy's, securing it where it is. he looks down at both of their hands, then up at the joint being offered to him. he's not really sure what's going on anymore.
but he takes the joint. he keeps his hand on marcus' knee and he reaches over in front of himself to take the spliff from marcus, eager to put it to his lips, but not necessarily quick about it. with a lungful of smoke, billy nods his head, fingers still pinched around the end of the joint. yeah, he still wants to do this - if it's a pity fuck, then fine. it's either that, or his ass lands in the fucking people zoo, or realignment, or whatever, and that sounds like it'd feel slightly worse.
billy blows the smoke out, not really bothering to turn his head away to direct it somewhere else. his fingers flex against marcus' knee. ]
no subject
it wouldn't be the first time anyone screwed around with him out of pity, but it'd be the first time that it would actually bother him, now that he's thinking about it. unintentionally, billy taps his thumb a little against the side of marcus' knee as he thinks, the low hum of anxiety buzzing in his veins finding little ways to burn off.
billy has seen marcus' scars. maybe not all of them, but he's seen enough to know that, like the rest of them, marcus has been through some shit that no one should have to go through. he's got scar right over his goddamn eye, for christ's sake. billy's got scars too, though. maybe not any as intense and as visible as marcus', but gene was almost never caught not wearing a bunch of big, ugly rings. there are dozens and dozens of little knicks and scars all over billy's body, places where gene got carried away, got tired of using his fists and moved on to whatever he could get his hands on to finish the job. places where the skin has split, fixed with super glue because what else was he supposed to do? go to a hospital? go to the cops? about a cop?
maybe marcus is right. maybe people just aren't interested in scars and baggage, maybe that's why people don't stick around. billy tries not to think about it too much. he's just about to take his hand off of marcus' knee, but marcus stops him by putting his own hand down over the back of billy's, securing it where it is. he looks down at both of their hands, then up at the joint being offered to him. he's not really sure what's going on anymore.
but he takes the joint. he keeps his hand on marcus' knee and he reaches over in front of himself to take the spliff from marcus, eager to put it to his lips, but not necessarily quick about it. with a lungful of smoke, billy nods his head, fingers still pinched around the end of the joint. yeah, he still wants to do this - if it's a pity fuck, then fine. it's either that, or his ass lands in the fucking people zoo, or realignment, or whatever, and that sounds like it'd feel slightly worse.
billy blows the smoke out, not really bothering to turn his head away to direct it somewhere else. his fingers flex against marcus' knee. ]
Yeah. D'you?