for plaguedrat - continued [possibly nsfw]

[silenttrainbaby]

[from here]

They are both whole, they are both young, and alive. And a tear may fall-just one- for Gilliam who isn't here, Grey can run his hands down Rat's front, the body much like his own.

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[plaguedrat]

He's not quite as fast as Grey, but he's similarly agile as he hurries into his pants. Rat takes on a ready stance, even as he pulls his shirt on, ready for Grey's next move.

[silenttrainbaby]

Just as he's about to make any move, they can hear someone jogging just a bit away from where they are, along a path that runs close to the pond, but not next to it.

He goes still by habit, his finger to his lips as he looks at Rat. Shhhhhhh.

[plaguedrat]

Rat goes similarly tense, his knife practically leaping into his fingers. His first assumption, always, is that others are enemies at best and he'll need to defend himself.

[silenttrainbaby]

They are only joggers, though, talking about babysitters. SO foreign as to almost be a different language. Grey keeps his eyes on Rat, shaking his head. No knives, no violence. Just let them pass by.

[plaguedrat]

People who live in ease and safety, likely complacent about the things they are given. They have no idea what it is to struggle, he thinks.

There's no gain in attacking them, but he still regards them with contempt and suspicion.

[silenttrainbaby]

There's no gain in wasting that emotion. Grey learned well how to use time and energy effectively. When the joggers are past, he comes from where he was and touches Rat's cheek. Don't let anything spoil this time they have.

[plaguedrat]

His whole life, hatred of No. 6 has been the fuel that keeps Rat going. Every drop of blood they'd taken became yet more, pushing him where nothing else could.

Somehow, Grey penetrates that haze with a single touch, calling him back to them and their moment.

[silenttrainbaby]

It was Gilliam who kept things from getting too dark, from teaching Grey about characters like Beowulf, elaborate stories of heroes.

He kisses Rat then. There. Isn't that better?

[plaguedrat]

And he had grown up on Hamlet and MacBeth, the Divine Comedy, where justice came surely and bloodily.

Rat knows the kiss is a distraction and he lets it work, relaxing incrementally for Grey.

[silenttrainbaby]

There. That's better.

Now, they can go find food, perhaps something that's even still warm. He takes Rat's hand and urges him back toward the city on the other side of the park.

[plaguedrat]

Rat walks alongside Grey, quietly bumping their hips together, offering little, unspoken moments.

[silenttrainbaby]

The best places to look are behind the restaurants, of course, and that's where Grey leads Rat. There's even a door propped open to one restaurant. It smells good.

[plaguedrat]

Rat peers into the open door, screwing up his mouth thoughtfully as a distracted employee stacks up take-out boxes. Sounding indifferent, the employee answers the phone and Rat darts forward, snatching two boxes.

[silenttrainbaby]

They go running, Grey grinning, until they find a quiet alley corner.

Crouching, he opens his box. Biscuits! Bacon! Oh, how his mouth waters.

[plaguedrat]

Rat grins and gestures at him to dig in, tipping his head. "Ever had this stuff before?" Living on a train it sounds like they wouldn't have had a full array of foods. That was one of the lucky things about he West District.

[silenttrainbaby]

Just here; Grey points to the ground, to here. He picks up a biscuit and takes a big bite.

Oh, yes.

[plaguedrat]

It's a crossroads of adorable and pitiable, a look that Rat's seen on many a face in the West District, the look of someone who's only getting used to good meals after a lifetime without.

It takes him a moment to stop admiring his face, to remember to eat.

[silenttrainbaby]

Oh, there should be no pity in this moment. Grey is enjoying his food too much. He takes a bite of the bacon and silently moans again.

Delicious.

Wait, what is this? A small container in the box, which he opens. A grey jelly like substance.

He sticks his finger in it and licks it.

Ohhhh.

[plaguedrat]

Rat understands the feeling too well not to.

"It's gravy. They cook meat drippings with flour." He's made it himself, on the occasions that he has meat fatty enough.

[silenttrainbaby]

Gravy?

Grey knits his brows at his lover (lover, lover, lover .... ). What should he do with this gravy?

[plaguedrat]

Rat creeps closer, hand brushing across Grey's as he takes a piece of his own biscuit and dips it in the gravy to show him. Putting it in his mouth, he waits for Grey.

[silenttrainbaby]

Rip, dip bite - ohhhh.

Grey chews slowly, savoring the saltiness, the richness of the flavors.

This is his new favorite meal.

[plaguedrat]

Rat watches him sidelong, smiling a moment, before reaching over to swipe his thumb across Grey's mouth. "You missed some."

[silenttrainbaby]

A flash of movement and Grey has Rat's wrist, so that he can catch that thumb and lick it clean.

He would hate for any of that delicious gravy to be wasted.

[plaguedrat]

He watches Grey's face, his mouth, transfixed for a moment. It's all too easy, after this morning, to imagine what else Grey can do.

Giving in to the sentimentality he's rarely allowed himself, he leans forward to kiss Grey's mouth.