[ daniel's sat at his computer, typing every variation of "finn weed farm guy" and misspellings of what he remembers finn's last name sounding like (mc... numera?) in one of the browsers. he eventually gets the spelling close enough that an image of finn's face finally pops up on the first page. along with various sites claiming to have all his criminal records on file, ready to be released to anyone bothering to look in exchange for a small fee of $50 USD.
his phone number, however, is public and free.
when daniel sends the first text, it is accompanied by a crude sketch of finn's face framed by squiggled dreads, cartoonishly proportioned with the rest of his much smaller yet equally cartoonish body. his exaggerated features are marked by a goofy smile and in his tiny, sausage-fingered hands is a pizza box.
his art isn't quite at the same level as what sean's was, but it's decent. daniel has been practicing. makes him feel closer to his brother. ]
Hey is this Finn Mcnamara?
Got the number off of google and found ur tiktok too lol.
Edited (Was missing the text format!) 2024-05-02 15:02 (UTC)
[ a series of vibrations hauls finn back from the brink of unconsciousness. another post-blaze nap thwarted, and for what? he almost doesn't bother to check, but curiosity has him untangling an arm from a fuck-crumpled sheet. in the darkness his phone's screen spotlights his pinched features, making the metal in his face gleam.
it appears to be... him? adorable as ever, sure, but looking far too thrilled to be slanging corporate pizzas. this surely can't be the work of a fan. ]
[ with his seventh-grade level education, there is probably too much that daniel doesn't understand at his age of seventeen. but having spent a few years already rubbing shoulders with all manner of thugs and well-meaning locals, he has at least amassed a decent degree of street smarts.
it's why he doesn't immediately jump to entering the letters of his name in the chat box despite being prompted to. the phone he's using is a burner and not so easily traced back to him, but he has reason to doubt finn's publicly available phone number is connected to the same. ]
Super wolf is asking
[ finn should remember the 13-year-old brat from his bud-farming days and his fixation with wolves. ]
Dunno how many Finn McNamaras there are but the one I'm looking for smokes a lotta pot and smells like ass.
[ the ferocity of finn sitting up in bed causes an avalanche of empty water bottles on mt.nightstand. super wolf. there's no fucking way. it'd been, what, a year or so since his last attempt at contacting daniel? back then it had resulted in a resounding nothing that riled up the worst theories in his head. he had lied awake with them on many nights before finally settling on the one that allowed him to sleep again. daniel had simply moved on. ]
You motherfucker
[ his eyes return to the sketch with new fondness now knowing its origins and inspiration. it's an improvement from the doodle scrawled on the back of the first postcard daniel had ever sent. finn still keeps it safely tucked in the visor of his brother's truck where a glimpse at his own reflection often lands him in the white sands of puerto lobos, imagining the grit at his feet.
a familiar ache in his chest has him switching on a light and lighting up again. ]
How kind of you letting me know you're still alive, lil man Missed your silly ass
[ fuck. it's been so long since he's had any contact with anyone from back home that seeing finn's elation expressed through the screen of his phone is enough to make his chest feel tight. despite making a life for himself in mexico, making new friends, seeing and experiencing new things, he thinks about the people he has been forced to leave behind every damn day.
he misses his family. he misses home. he misses every single tangible thing or person that otherwise still connect him to his brother's memory. finn included. ]
Sorry, been kinda hard staying in one place. Things are fucked up around here.
My birthday is in a few weeks. Guys are taking me out to a cool club in one of the big cities. Wish u could come...
[ daniel's got guys. plans. the drive to celebrate the passing of another waypoint through time even against the worst of odds. the kid's fucking incredible.
finn fumbles his phone to brush a long tangle of loose waves and dreads from his face. the undercut of yesteryear is long overgrown. the bulk of it all suddenly feels cumbersome with the heat building in his face, searing the backs of his eyes. ]
I wouldn't miss your quinceañera for nothing
[ the ease of which they default to brotherly banter stokes the blaze in his chest. parched, finn knocks around more clutter and plastic bottles in search for one, solitary swig of some sort of liquid. fucking pasties, man. ]
Just tell me where I've got a 15 minute noogie ready to rep every year of your life
[ unbridled by his debt to society and now a little less broke, there's no reason finn wouldn't be there if that's what daniel wants.
finn would be the first to make such an offer, and it causes a stir deep in his chest. it's hard enough even reaching his grandparents and his mom, all of whom he might never see again because of how great the risk, so daniel had long since boxed away prospects of visiting in the near or far future.
the thought of having someone he'd only known for a few months when he was a kid (he is still a kid) tugs at emotions that had laid dormant for so long, reminding him how lonely he actually is. ]
Dude, quinceañerO
[ he's partly concerned. it's not like he's living in the safest place in the world, but knowing finn, the guy never erred on the side of caution and likely hasn't made any efforts to change his lifestyle. as long as daniel is around, nothing bad would happen to him anyway. ]
We got an airbnb booked in Guaymas
U'd really come? No joke?
[ he doesn't want to let loose his hopes of reconnecting with a part of his past yet, but it's happening. he's getting his hopes up. ]
[ another window is already open on finn's phone gathering info on costs for a bus ticket from san diego to guaymas. it's going to be a looong ride, but it'll be far more luxurious than scoring an empty boxcar on the rails. that booked airbnb sounds like he'll be able to bum around there for the $free.99, too. coincidentally, finn and daniel's birthdays aren't that far apart (that aries fire, baby!). so it's totally doable if finn hounds his bros for a little birthday cheddar to cover the cost of an expedited passport (the legal way is such a hassle for fuck's sake).
he may have joked about a 15-year-old girl's quinceañera, but this really is a milestone birthday for little man if his math's correct. daniel's going to be 18 fucking years old, older than Sean ever was... and well, fuck...
the phone drops into a heap of finn's sheets, freeing up his hands to smother the fire in his eyes. it'll be a while before he responds again. ]
Just like that? Ur gonna come all the way down here and stay with me? For how long? What if they don't let u
[ he doesn't get an immediate reply, and instead of anxiously waiting for confirmation that this could happen for real, he continues: ]
I wanna show u Mexico Finn Ur gonna love the food The wild parties too! And the beaches I think u will really like it Plus u will be safe with me, I promise
If u stay for a while, I'll take u to Puerto Lobos
[ take him to see sean, where he's been laid to rest and buried within the grounds of their father's old, rundown estate. so far away from home, and so very far away from esteban's own grave. daniel's never even seen it, but he's content with carrying his memory in ink on his chest instead. ]
[ zoning out commences with finn spread eagle, watching the smoke from his joint weave together constellations from the kernels of the popcorn ceiling. he's still aware of the vibrations of his phone, eager like the prodding of a child. it's easiest to imagine daniel as the boy he once knew; that shaggy mop of hair, the bandana knotted around his neck, and the way his eyes would light up from the kindling of wild tales. the perspective was a new one for finn, having always been the little one. it was exhilarating to see parts of himself emulated, even if it wasn't always for the best...
how would things be now?
in an empty room, a smoky murmur finally answers back: ]
Just a minute, little man...
[ he sleeps on it – everything – despite falling asleep with his mind already made. the texts he finally reads are... fucking adorable. he's picturing little daniel again with those big baby cow brown eyes catching rays through the redwoods. ]
First off Who's they and what motherfucking army? Ain't nothing bout to stop this reunion from happening It's my WHITE AMERICAN RIGHT to gallivant as I see fit My dues are paid here so fuck it
[ finn takes too long to reply, daniel idly notes to himself when he receives his texts later on in the day. he is at the beach, curling his toes in the white sand as he nurses an energy drink he'd nabbed from an oblivious tourist's cooler. he'd come out to clear his head, shake any excess of unnecessary thoughts of the past that could potentially put his headspace at risk.
he is at least partly comforted by how evidently little finn has changed, if he has changed at all in the years they haven't spoke. still a free, rebellious spirit. he even looks the same where daniel in so many ways barely shares a resemblance with his 13-year-old self. ]
Don't forget, white american boys gallivanting on mexican soils are just gringos who speak janky ass spanish [ in other words: ] Easy pickings Better stick close to me while ur here U ok sharing a room with me right?
[ an image will appear in their text window moments later, featuring daniel from the neck down in all of his full-grown glory. at the angle in which he frames himself, his tattoos are conveniently obscured; most of the ink is tucked under articles of simple clothing and the bandana tied secure around his wrist.
his intention is to demonstrate one thing: he is older now and has long since filled out in places that should otherwise prove his maturation as a man. he is rather lithe still, but a lot taller and broader in the shoulders than when finn had last seen him in-person. ]
[ minutes elapse between responses, finn eventually returning as a fresher version of himself. he's squinting down at his phone while toweling off his hair. there's something he wants to say in janky ass spanish about his admittedly janky ass spanish, but grade 10 conjugation halts abruptly when his eyes fall upon this dude. ]
Can't see you behind the rando lol
[ finn zooms in with a puzzled tilt to his head, he can't make out why he feels fucked up by what he's seeing. so even a superwolf can't escape the effects of time... ]
[ or sean for that matter, but a shopping list is a whole 'nother story. the note app's open on his phone: chocohs, doubstuffed, mt.dew, pepto b, condoms... just to start, of course. ]
You let me know if there's anything else I'm off to work. Gotta deliver double on the rizz to fund the BIG trip Stay tuned, sweetheart 👁
[ Now that would have been one for the fridge gallery. The two of them stark naked, stumbling fresh from the master bath. That time Finn fucked Billy off the side of the bed. He can distinctly remember the way Billy's hands fisted into Susan's floral sheets– wads of crushed up meadows.
It's a nice memory, but Billy's still being every bit of the unrepentant hardass, goading his own destruction. Maybe this is what it takes to get Billy to ditch the knight act and leave Max to a fate that can't be worse than his own. Maybe this is just the push to get him rolling, gone. Billy won't have to do it alone. If there's one thing Finn's certain he can do, it's leading the lost.
Too rage stupid to reconsider. One tap drops the match. ]
Now deal with it
[ There will be hope somewhere in the ashes, there always is. If Billy wants him, he knows where to find him. ]
[ It wasn't the first time Finn got his dick in him, but he won't ever forget that particular dicking. The family's detergent filling his nose, their combined sweat mixing in alongside Sue's soap, the musk Finn carries with him that not even a shower could chase away.
Billy shot all over a forest meadow, a leaping deer, and he collapsed into his own drool and wished for a wild fucking moment that his old man would walk in, find Finn draped over his back, playing with his hair, keeping him plugged up fat with cum for just a little longer.
Which means this has gotta be a wish come true, and Billy's heart pounds. It doesn't feel real, and there's a chance he'll slink back into that house on Cherry Street and nothing will change because Finn was bullshitting him. But he and Finn are tinder and match. He thinks it’s real. He feels— ]
you're a doll. see you around.
[ It's almost a week before Finn gets another text. Billy’s never laughed while getting it from his old man, that was reserved for rowdy tussles and bar parking lots. He always took his lumps as stoically as he could manage. He never wanted him to see him crack.
Something else cracks. The thought that Neil’s seen Finn’s cock, that Neil’s seen Billy at his best, is just too fucking funny. He laughs like a hyena even after the hand closes on his neck. He takes the licks and the bumps and the cocksucking faggot and the not under my goddamn roof and the no son of mine. Billy says something like, I’ll lick his fucking asshole over spending another goddamn day in this house before he feels his tooth crack.
He goes to ground outside the house, and Max finds and takes him the cash he’s been keeping in a clip under a loose board. She can’t find his car keys though, figures they’re in the safe. Billy sends the text and wonders if Finn’s already made it two states over. ]
[ The days after they clash, Finn stops eating, subsisting on bud, beer, and crumbs while holed up in his junkyard squat. He keeps an eye on his phone just in case, but eventually the life completely drains from it. There isn't much to miss. Even the initial barrage of ignored texts from Neil peter out before his phone gives up the ghost. Left to his vices and a fat paperback, Finn falls in and out of crossfaded dreams. Brakes fail at the brink of an abyss, warren cells unlock into themselves, and Billy combusts in his arms. Light me up.
Time gets funny without a clock, diverging into moments defined only by the light. Sluggish days wane into longer nights of Finn dousing his wits within the frigid pools of light cast off by a lantern. Day or night, he covets sleep; seeking refuge in nightmares just to keep from facing himself.
The truth? Finn's a selfish asshole, but he still feels for motherfuckers which makes it a problem. He knows the retribution he dealt was disproportionate to the offense, even with every way Billy's wronged him working in tandem to justify his actions. He was wrong.
The stink of his own rotting becomes unbearable only when he runs out of his distractions. That's when he finally crawls out of the guts of that abandoned bus, heading back to civilization with his rucksack packed to skip town. There isn't any point in staying if Billy doesn't need him.
Before heading for the crustiest diner in town, Finn slinks into the Hawkins High gym to shower. With his hood up he blends in without issue. Security's shit and apparently the school's got twenty-somethings attending it anyway.
Now Finn sits in the loneliest booth in the diner to fuel up his phone and body. He's in the company of a cup of black coffee, a cold plate of untouched bacon and eggs, and a copy of the Hawkins Post he found discarded on a nearby table. He pores over the headlines for mentions of dead Hargroves until the Little 'Droid That Could chirps back to life with a chorus of notifications: social media, dating apps, texts from a couple of his brothers, a San Diego hookup, and–
hey. wanna help me steal a car?
Finn's reading the text a little over a half hour after it's sent. He sits rigid in his seat, coffee sloshing redacting black over Hawkins' highlights.
He doesn't understand why, doesn't really care. All that matters is that Billy needs him. ]
[ Finn's blocked him he figures. His message is hanging in the ether, barred from entry. He deserves it, not that he'd ever admit it aloud, but, he gets it, wonders what state Finn's in, hopes he's getting his dick nice and wet. The fucker deserves it.
Except, it pisses him off, picturing Finn's head tipped back, mouth open, somebody else making a home for him deep in their throat.
Then his phone chirps, and he feels hot all over. Giddy. ]
meet me where cherry meets hawthorne. you any good at safes?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
his phone number, however, is public and free.
when daniel sends the first text, it is accompanied by a crude sketch of finn's face framed by squiggled dreads, cartoonishly proportioned with the rest of his much smaller yet equally cartoonish body. his exaggerated features are marked by a goofy smile and in his tiny, sausage-fingered hands is a pizza box.
his art isn't quite at the same level as what sean's was, but it's decent. daniel has been practicing. makes him feel closer to his brother. ]
Hey is this Finn Mcnamara?
Got the number off of google and found ur tiktok too lol.
no subject
it appears to be... him? adorable as ever, sure, but looking far too thrilled to be slanging corporate pizzas. this surely can't be the work of a fan. ]
Who's asking?
no subject
it's why he doesn't immediately jump to entering the letters of his name in the chat box despite being prompted to. the phone he's using is a burner and not so easily traced back to him, but he has reason to doubt finn's publicly available phone number is connected to the same. ]
Super wolf is asking
[ finn should remember the 13-year-old brat from his bud-farming days and his fixation with wolves. ]
Dunno how many Finn McNamaras there are but the one I'm looking for smokes a lotta pot and smells like ass.
no subject
You motherfucker
[ his eyes return to the sketch with new fondness now knowing its origins and inspiration. it's an improvement from the doodle scrawled on the back of the first postcard daniel had ever sent. finn still keeps it safely tucked in the visor of his brother's truck where a glimpse at his own reflection often lands him in the white sands of puerto lobos, imagining the grit at his feet.
a familiar ache in his chest has him switching on a light and lighting up again. ]
How kind of you letting me know you're still alive, lil man
Missed your silly ass
[ so, so fucking much. ]
no subject
he misses his family. he misses home. he misses every single tangible thing or person that otherwise still connect him to his brother's memory. finn included. ]
Sorry, been kinda hard staying in one place. Things are fucked up around here.
My birthday is in a few weeks. Guys are taking me out to a cool club in one of the big cities. Wish u could come...
Cus I miss u too dude. Really. Bad smell and all.
no subject
finn fumbles his phone to brush a long tangle of loose waves and dreads from his face. the undercut of yesteryear is long overgrown. the bulk of it all suddenly feels cumbersome with the heat building in his face, searing the backs of his eyes. ]
I wouldn't miss your quinceañera for nothing
[ the ease of which they default to brotherly banter stokes the blaze in his chest. parched, finn knocks around more clutter and plastic bottles in search for one, solitary swig of some sort of liquid. fucking pasties, man. ]
Just tell me where
I've got a 15 minute noogie ready to rep every year of your life
[ unbridled by his debt to society and now a little less broke, there's no reason finn wouldn't be there if that's what daniel wants.
and really, finn wants it too. ]
no subject
finn would be the first to make such an offer, and it causes a stir deep in his chest. it's hard enough even reaching his grandparents and his mom, all of whom he might never see again because of how great the risk, so daniel had long since boxed away prospects of visiting in the near or far future.
the thought of having someone he'd only known for a few months when he was a kid (he is still a kid) tugs at emotions that had laid dormant for so long, reminding him how lonely he actually is. ]
Dude, quinceañerO
[ he's partly concerned. it's not like he's living in the safest place in the world, but knowing finn, the guy never erred on the side of caution and likely hasn't made any efforts to change his lifestyle. as long as daniel is around, nothing bad would happen to him anyway. ]
We got an airbnb booked in Guaymas
U'd really come? No joke?
[ he doesn't want to let loose his hopes of reconnecting with a part of his past yet, but it's happening. he's getting his hopes up. ]
no subject
[ another window is already open on finn's phone gathering info on costs for a bus ticket from san diego to guaymas. it's going to be a looong ride, but it'll be far more luxurious than scoring an empty boxcar on the rails. that booked airbnb sounds like he'll be able to bum around there for the $free.99, too. coincidentally, finn and daniel's birthdays aren't that far apart (that aries fire, baby!). so it's totally doable if finn hounds his bros for a little birthday cheddar to cover the cost of an expedited passport (the legal way is such a hassle for fuck's sake).
he may have joked about a 15-year-old girl's quinceañera, but this really is a milestone birthday for little man if his math's correct. daniel's going to be 18 fucking years old, older than Sean ever was... and well, fuck...
the phone drops into a heap of finn's sheets, freeing up his hands to smother the fire in his eyes. it'll be a while before he responds again. ]
no subject
What if they don't let u
[ he doesn't get an immediate reply, and instead of anxiously waiting for confirmation that this could happen for real, he continues: ]
I wanna show u Mexico Finn
Ur gonna love the food
The wild parties too! And the beaches
I think u will really like it
Plus u will be safe with me, I promise
If u stay for a while, I'll take u to Puerto Lobos
[ take him to see sean, where he's been laid to rest and buried within the grounds of their father's old, rundown estate. so far away from home, and so very far away from esteban's own grave. daniel's never even seen it, but he's content with carrying his memory in ink on his chest instead. ]
no subject
how would things be now?
in an empty room, a smoky murmur finally answers back: ]
Just a minute, little man...
[ he sleeps on it – everything – despite falling asleep with his mind already made. the texts he finally reads are... fucking adorable. he's picturing little daniel again with those big baby cow brown eyes catching rays through the redwoods. ]
First off
Who's they and what motherfucking army?
Ain't nothing bout to stop this reunion from happening
It's my WHITE AMERICAN RIGHT to gallivant as I see fit
My dues are paid here so fuck it
Lil dude
This is happening
no subject
he is at least partly comforted by how evidently little finn has changed, if he has changed at all in the years they haven't spoke. still a free, rebellious spirit. he even looks the same where daniel in so many ways barely shares a resemblance with his 13-year-old self. ]
Don't forget, white american boys gallivanting on mexican soils are just gringos who speak janky ass spanish
[ in other words: ] Easy pickings
Better stick close to me while ur here
U ok sharing a room with me right?
[ an image will appear in their text window moments later, featuring daniel from the neck down in all of his full-grown glory. at the angle in which he frames himself, his tattoos are conveniently obscured; most of the ink is tucked under articles of simple clothing and the bandana tied secure around his wrist.
his intention is to demonstrate one thing: he is older now and has long since filled out in places that should otherwise prove his maturation as a man. he is rather lithe still, but a lot taller and broader in the shoulders than when finn had last seen him in-person. ]
Btw
Not so 'lil' anymore am I?
no subject
Can't see you behind the rando lol
[ finn zooms in with a puzzled tilt to his head, he can't make out why he feels fucked up by what he's seeing. so even a superwolf can't escape the effects of time... ]
Feels unreal
Lil big man 💔
no subject
Might even be taller than u now
no subject
[ most guys are... ]
But yeah, to backtrack
[ recovering from the shock of that revelation. ]
I don't mind sharing a room with you, [ little man ] D u d e
I'm real compact, easy to store and shit
You got any American brand bday wishes you want me to procure before I get there?
Chock-o-crisps??
no subject
Fuck yeah I want chock o crisps
Can't believe u still remember those are my favorite
[ it's not like daniel didn't complain about not having any every other day back at the farm... ]
Dude can u believe double stuffed oreos are harder to find here than chock o crisps
mountain dew too
no subject
[ or sean for that matter, but a shopping list is a whole 'nother story. the note app's open on his phone: chocohs, doubstuffed, mt.dew, pepto b, condoms... just to start, of course. ]
You let me know if there's anything else
I'm off to work. Gotta deliver double on the rizz to fund the BIG trip
Stay tuned, sweetheart 👁
no subject
[ Now that would have been one for the fridge gallery. The two of them stark naked, stumbling fresh from the master bath. That time Finn fucked Billy off the side of the bed. He can distinctly remember the way Billy's hands fisted into Susan's floral sheets– wads of crushed up meadows.
It's a nice memory, but Billy's still being every bit of the unrepentant hardass, goading his own destruction. Maybe this is what it takes to get Billy to ditch the knight act and leave Max to a fate that can't be worse than his own. Maybe this is just the push to get him rolling, gone. Billy won't have to do it alone. If there's one thing Finn's certain he can do, it's leading the lost.
Too rage stupid to reconsider. One tap drops the match. ]
Now deal with it
[ There will be hope somewhere in the ashes, there always is. If Billy wants him, he knows where to find him. ]
cw: domestic violence, homophobic slurs
Billy shot all over a forest meadow, a leaping deer, and he collapsed into his own drool and wished for a wild fucking moment that his old man would walk in, find Finn draped over his back, playing with his hair, keeping him plugged up fat with cum for just a little longer.
Which means this has gotta be a wish come true, and Billy's heart pounds. It doesn't feel real, and there's a chance he'll slink back into that house on Cherry Street and nothing will change because Finn was bullshitting him. But he and Finn are tinder and match. He thinks it’s real. He feels— ]
you're a doll. see you around.
[ It's almost a week before Finn gets another text. Billy’s never laughed while getting it from his old man, that was reserved for rowdy tussles and bar parking lots. He always took his lumps as stoically as he could manage. He never wanted him to see him crack.
Something else cracks. The thought that Neil’s seen Finn’s cock, that Neil’s seen Billy at his best, is just too fucking funny. He laughs like a hyena even after the hand closes on his neck. He takes the licks and the bumps and the cocksucking faggot and the not under my goddamn roof and the no son of mine. Billy says something like, I’ll lick his fucking asshole over spending another goddamn day in this house before he feels his tooth crack.
He goes to ground outside the house, and Max finds and takes him the cash he’s been keeping in a clip under a loose board. She can’t find his car keys though, figures they’re in the safe. Billy sends the text and wonders if Finn’s already made it two states over. ]
hey. wanna help me steal a car?
no subject
Time gets funny without a clock, diverging into moments defined only by the light. Sluggish days wane into longer nights of Finn dousing his wits within the frigid pools of light cast off by a lantern. Day or night, he covets sleep; seeking refuge in nightmares just to keep from facing himself.
The truth? Finn's a selfish asshole, but he still feels for motherfuckers which makes it a problem. He knows the retribution he dealt was disproportionate to the offense, even with every way Billy's wronged him working in tandem to justify his actions. He was wrong.
The stink of his own rotting becomes unbearable only when he runs out of his distractions. That's when he finally crawls out of the guts of that abandoned bus, heading back to civilization with his rucksack packed to skip town. There isn't any point in staying if Billy doesn't need him.
Before heading for the crustiest diner in town, Finn slinks into the Hawkins High gym to shower. With his hood up he blends in without issue. Security's shit and apparently the school's got twenty-somethings attending it anyway.
Now Finn sits in the loneliest booth in the diner to fuel up his phone and body. He's in the company of a cup of black coffee, a cold plate of untouched bacon and eggs, and a copy of the Hawkins Post he found discarded on a nearby table. He pores over the headlines for mentions of dead Hargroves until the Little 'Droid That Could chirps back to life with a chorus of notifications: social media, dating apps, texts from a couple of his brothers, a San Diego hookup, and–
hey. wanna help me steal a car?
Finn's reading the text a little over a half hour after it's sent. He sits rigid in his seat, coffee sloshing redacting black over Hawkins' highlights.
He doesn't understand why, doesn't really care. All that matters is that Billy needs him. ]
My specialty
Where we headed?
ahhhhh immm backkkk 💀💦
Except, it pisses him off, picturing Finn's head tipped back, mouth open, somebody else making a home for him deep in their throat.
Then his phone chirps, and he feels hot all over. Giddy. ]
meet me where cherry meets hawthorne.
you any good at safes?