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[camarod]

psycho man

bhargrove#1969

---

ABOUT ME

fuck off.

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[retromix]

Both, more than likely. Hey, those shirts I promised are on the back of that stool next to you, by the way.

[ A black one from Eddie and a pale stripy blue from Steve. He actively doesn't think about all the ways he supports his friends. ]

Why are you wearing silk? You came over to eat cheese. Get over here, plate yourself up, it's done.

[ There may be chunks of broccoli and bacon in there too. Steve has an appetite today. ]

[camarod]

I need an excuse to wear silk? Geez.

[It smells good. Smells real unhealthy and amazing, like the kind of thing Neil would never let him have. Up he gets to plate up, goes for the broccoli like a man possessed and glances, briefly, to the shirts. Wonders if he is straight up losing his mind. ]

- Thanks. Not sure when I'll get round to it, but, you know.

[retromix]

All yours, keep them. I insist.

[ Support doesn't mean he wants details! Not primly, anyway. ]

Do you want your present now or after we've eaten?

[camarod]

I'm not gonna jizz on your shirt, relax.

[Promise!] Yeah, yeah. Let me see what I've got.

[retromix]

I thought that was the whole point?

[ But, fine. Be a mysterious porn star. Steve plucks a brown bag off the counter, handing it over with the little Artificer inside, guns ablazing at the mini's sides. ]

Since you're Mister All-American ... seemed appropriate.

[camarod]

Nah, nah - they like it better if it’s on skin. I mean who doesn’t.

[ what a totally regular conversation to have with his good pal Steve.

He plucks the mini out - tries very hard to have a normal reaction. Finds himself snorting, appalled and then he softens, touched. ]

Thanks, man. The guns really sell it.

[retromix]

[ Gross. Rolling his eyes as he takes his pasta to the breakfast bar, he eats while watching Billy open his stupid little gift. ]

Thought it was a good pun. [ Pretty witty, if he does say so himself. ] So, aside from the obvious rolling around covered in various fluids, what have you been up to? You good?

[camarod]

No it’s - yeah. Great. [perhaps this is the moment he realises this is going to be a problem. sitting at Steve’s breakfast bar with pasta, a dumb little gift and a smile that won’t break. his insides do something new that feels like a flip, or a dip, or something. ]

I’m real good too. Bored shitless sometimes, but it’s - not exactly super hero material over here.

[retromix]

You sure about that? Your dick's sure working overdrive, maybe it got a power boost.

[ Someone's a little cheekier today, chomping his pasta. ]

[camarod]

The power to come three times in a row? I can see the headlines now.

[The pasta is good, and he will demonstrate this by finishing the whole thing -]

[retromix]

Only three?

[ If a man could look aloof while eating pasta ...

Three spaced out, maybe, but he's all wrung dry for the day and night ahead potentially. Possibly. Eddie may have fried his perception of time while they were rolling around. ]

[camarod]

Not all of us have the benefit of Munson’s generosity.

[does Billy look like he’s being fingered, etc etc.]

[retromix]

[ Blushing, he doesn't deny it. Eddie is ... good. A good person, as well as generous and kind, and it makes Steve feel all kinds of ways.

Tapping the last of his pasta around his bowl, Steve looks made up with how things are going and admits, ]

He said, sort of accidentally, that he loves me.

[ Pasta has never been gazed at so tenderly. ]

Feels like the floor is getting farther and farther away from me, I don't know if that makes sense. It's kind of wild.

[camarod]

[The thing in his gut goes again; twists sharp in a way that doesn’t feel like jealousy. It feels frighteningly like longing, like a fragile dichotomy between that and happiness. He’s just getting used to happiness, too, and the longing throws him.

It’s probably not fine, after all. Still, he keeps his grin.]

Careful, that’s a lot of big moves at once.

[retromix]

I don't do things by halves, apparently.

[ He remembers Eddie chastising him for not being tactful enough around Billy, Billy's crush more accurately, and looks up with guilt faintly seeping into a frown. ]

You don't have to listen to this. I'm rambling, sorry. I didn't ask you over to ... I don't know, be an audience.

[camarod]

You want me to a brag too? Make it a little less weird?

[he could. it wouldn’t stop the turbulence, but he could.]

[retromix]

No! No, I get it. I just ... feel like we both have Eddie in common so talking about him is easy with you.

[camarod]

It’s fine. I’m happy for you or whatever.

[and like he is. he gives a shit about them both in a way he isn’t really used to and yeah, shit, it’s nice to be trusted. ]

Brag away.

[retromix]

No, forget my shit. Tell me how your business stuff is going, I want to know! Come on.

[ Sliiiding off his stool to get them seconds, give him your bowl! ]

[camarod]

It's good. Yeah it's - it's really good.

[He pauses. Hesitates, actually, before he reaches for his phone, swiping to bring up his numbers. He slides the phone between them - highlighting the subscriber count to his last monthly income which is - a lot. More money than Billy Hargrove knows what to do with, if he's honest. ]

The videos, man. They love that shit.

[retromix]

Well ... [ He drops an obvious once-over on Billy, smiling widely as he meets his eyes. ] Yeah, why wouldn't they?

[ He leans over the see the phone, brows flying up at the numbers there. ]

That's ridiculous, dude. Buy a yacht.

[camarod]

What the hell am I gonna do with a yacht? Throw a rager for a party of three?

[Look, it's tempting. There is a brief fantasy of like, summer out on the water. Steve is in a speedo, Eddie is perhaps swimming naked - anyway.]

It's just so fucking - weird. Like, I get paid to do this.

[retromix]

You're good at it, why not? At least you guys have actual talent.

[ Steve just ... calls stupid shit to his hand. Case in point: he summons some extra cheese for their second bowl of pasta, eyes flatly unimpressed. ]

[camarod]

As much as it delights me to hear you think me stroking my dick is talent -

[he's pointing a fork at Steve, brow raised. ] What's with the self-pity. You summon shit people need. That's dope.

[retromix]

It's not self-pity, it's realism. I can only summon what I need in the moment, I can't plan ahead or bank on being able to feel confident about my choices. I could let people down when they really need me. Got a bunch of weapons hidden under my damn bed in case I can't call them again.