Chill Out [Closed]

[control_freak]

Who: Foster and Taako
When: Day 142
Where: Trailer 18
What: Foster and Taako talk without there being some kind of fucking crisis.
Warnings: This may get NSFW.



Foster doesn't even pause to turn on the light when they reach his trailer, let alone make sure the door stays open--he collapses directly onto the tangled, bloodstained sheets of what is obviously his bed and rolls onto his back, one hairy arm draped over his eyes.

If Taako wants a second to look around, he has it, but there's not much to see. Trailer 18 is... weirdly empty. It's furnished, obviously, but other than the single unmade bed, there's nothing in it.

The walls are bare, the tables are empty, the other bed is made and untouched.

"Wherever," Foster says, which means... well, it means Taako can put himself wherever.

Comments

[criticallyfucked]

Foster is.... not surprised, exactly, but goes silent, looking Taako up and down in speculative manner.

It's not that the idea isn't appealing--it's extraordinary, magnificent, exquisite and on another day, might even be tempting, just by its concept alone--but he's been looking for someone to properly use him, not for a way to rack up a body count.

He's not going to back out of that now.

Still, he responds in what is probably the least reassuring manner possible.

"Do you want me to?"

[tacosgay]

"I'm... gonna have to say no, but I appreciate the offer, there, my man," comes Taako's very clearly not at all reassured response. He steps out of the little bathroom, supplies in tow, and he looks over at Foster's bed and its questionable sheets.

"... euhhhh. Can we... do this thing over on the other bed here, maybe?"