[May 1] [Original] Pup in a Wolf Suit
Title: Pup in a Wolf Suit
Day/Theme: 1. Mischief of one kind and another
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Josh, his Mom, some mention of the Biker
Rating: R for language
“I don’t like you spending so much time with that man,” his mother said. “He’s been in prison. And I don’t think he’s all there, if you know what I mean.”
“Mom…” Josh started to complain and then stopped. He was too old to whine and make excuses. As he was finding himself doing more and more often lately, he tried to pretend that the Biker was sitting next to him, listening to what was said about him. The easiest thing to do would‘ve been to protest that the Biker was just a broken down cripple who told cool stories and needed some help that he was too proud to ask for. Wasn‘t it sad to think of him sitting up there alone and lonesome, unable to even reach a book to read off the shelf or get a bowl from the cabinet if he got hungry? What was so bad about checking on him occasionally? What was wrong with that?
Except that his mother knew him better than that. And as weird as the shit splattering against this particular fan had gotten, he didn’t want to say anything even in jest, that would insult, or (was it possible?) hurt the Biker if he ever heard it. And he might. If fairytales really were coming true around them, then he had to be very careful what he did and said.
“You aren’t getting into any kind of trouble are you?” his mother cut in, breaking his reverie. “Like before?”
“No,” he said honestly. She glared at him, hawk eyes burning in a sheep’s face. “No,” he said more forcibly. “I thought about it at first, I mean, captive audience, right?” Her glare crumbled into a grimace of disappointment that he was able to ignore. “But the truth is, he isn’t interested in drugs, and I haven’t sold any since school was out. I swear.”
“Has he been inappropriate?” she asked suddenly, dropping her voice almost comically. “He’s been in prison, and if you’re really the only company he ever gets….”
“Mom!” Josh heard his voice go a little too high and bit it back. “You’re crazy. He’s-” He very nearly said ‘fucking’ but knew how she would react to that and started over. “He’s paralyzed, Mom! Even if he wanted to, with anybody, not even me! He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Unless you think I’ve been coming on to him.” He gave her his best imitation of her own glare. “Not the kind of captive audience I meant, Mom.”
He had hoped she would dissemble, be embarrassed, maybe even apologize, but no such luck. She tilted her head to narrow those eyes at him, adding a snake to the list of animals she resembled.
“I can’t trust you anymore,” she said. “I used to laugh about how there was nothing you wouldn’t do when you were little. And you proved me right. It’s not funny anymore. You aren’t running with a bad crowd. There is no crowd. There’s just you, a puppy wearing a wolf suit, in the eye of your own tornado.”
“There are some things I won’t do, Mom,” he said, keeping his voice even. Part of him was a little aghast that he had gone into his gambler mode with his own mother, the rest was too busy processing any giveaways in her mannerisms and keeping his own pokerface perfect.
“Like listen to me, for once,” she grumbled. “Like stay away from that crazy, violent recluse. Like keep your fool self out of trouble.”
“He’s not crazy and he’s not violent, and if you had lost everything you cared about you might not want to go skipping through the daffodils either,” Josh heard himself snap. “Assuming you were lucky enough to be able to…”
“I’m losing you,” she snapped back. “Everything good and sweet that I can be proud of in my son, I am losing.” And while that guilt napalmed across his pokerface, she added. “And is he’s so sane and peaceful, how did he end up in prison?”
“When I land there, you‘ll know!” he replied, just to piss her off. He pulled his cockiest grin on to twist the knife. “You don’t like him and that’s fine. You don’t like me too much these days, and I can live with that too.” For the first time, pain flickered over her face. She pulled back as if burned. “It’s ok, Mom. I’m not the kind of kid you’re supposed to be proud of. But I do want to help him. I like him.”
“He’s going to get you in trouble of some kind,” she said, not looking at him anymore. He saw her lip tremble and hated himself for a whole two seconds. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“Be grateful you can feel all of them, Mom.”
“You will not make me feel sorry for him, Joshua Joseph.” The predatory bird flared back to life in her eyes. “All those coyote-clever notions of yours came from somewhere, you know. It’s possible I’m not as stupid as those white trash morons you’re selling God-knows-what to down by the river.”
“It’s also possible that of all the things I would do, that I might do something good once in a while.” he said, letting his voice soften. “Even if it’s not something you’re particularly proud of. This time.“
She looked at him again and sighed, and he knew he’d be just barely forgiven one more time.
Day/Theme: 1. Mischief of one kind and another
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Josh, his Mom, some mention of the Biker
Rating: R for language
“I don’t like you spending so much time with that man,” his mother said. “He’s been in prison. And I don’t think he’s all there, if you know what I mean.”
“Mom…” Josh started to complain and then stopped. He was too old to whine and make excuses. As he was finding himself doing more and more often lately, he tried to pretend that the Biker was sitting next to him, listening to what was said about him. The easiest thing to do would‘ve been to protest that the Biker was just a broken down cripple who told cool stories and needed some help that he was too proud to ask for. Wasn‘t it sad to think of him sitting up there alone and lonesome, unable to even reach a book to read off the shelf or get a bowl from the cabinet if he got hungry? What was so bad about checking on him occasionally? What was wrong with that?
Except that his mother knew him better than that. And as weird as the shit splattering against this particular fan had gotten, he didn’t want to say anything even in jest, that would insult, or (was it possible?) hurt the Biker if he ever heard it. And he might. If fairytales really were coming true around them, then he had to be very careful what he did and said.
“You aren’t getting into any kind of trouble are you?” his mother cut in, breaking his reverie. “Like before?”
“No,” he said honestly. She glared at him, hawk eyes burning in a sheep’s face. “No,” he said more forcibly. “I thought about it at first, I mean, captive audience, right?” Her glare crumbled into a grimace of disappointment that he was able to ignore. “But the truth is, he isn’t interested in drugs, and I haven’t sold any since school was out. I swear.”
“Has he been inappropriate?” she asked suddenly, dropping her voice almost comically. “He’s been in prison, and if you’re really the only company he ever gets….”
“Mom!” Josh heard his voice go a little too high and bit it back. “You’re crazy. He’s-” He very nearly said ‘fucking’ but knew how she would react to that and started over. “He’s paralyzed, Mom! Even if he wanted to, with anybody, not even me! He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Unless you think I’ve been coming on to him.” He gave her his best imitation of her own glare. “Not the kind of captive audience I meant, Mom.”
He had hoped she would dissemble, be embarrassed, maybe even apologize, but no such luck. She tilted her head to narrow those eyes at him, adding a snake to the list of animals she resembled.
“I can’t trust you anymore,” she said. “I used to laugh about how there was nothing you wouldn’t do when you were little. And you proved me right. It’s not funny anymore. You aren’t running with a bad crowd. There is no crowd. There’s just you, a puppy wearing a wolf suit, in the eye of your own tornado.”
“There are some things I won’t do, Mom,” he said, keeping his voice even. Part of him was a little aghast that he had gone into his gambler mode with his own mother, the rest was too busy processing any giveaways in her mannerisms and keeping his own pokerface perfect.
“Like listen to me, for once,” she grumbled. “Like stay away from that crazy, violent recluse. Like keep your fool self out of trouble.”
“He’s not crazy and he’s not violent, and if you had lost everything you cared about you might not want to go skipping through the daffodils either,” Josh heard himself snap. “Assuming you were lucky enough to be able to…”
“I’m losing you,” she snapped back. “Everything good and sweet that I can be proud of in my son, I am losing.” And while that guilt napalmed across his pokerface, she added. “And is he’s so sane and peaceful, how did he end up in prison?”
“When I land there, you‘ll know!” he replied, just to piss her off. He pulled his cockiest grin on to twist the knife. “You don’t like him and that’s fine. You don’t like me too much these days, and I can live with that too.” For the first time, pain flickered over her face. She pulled back as if burned. “It’s ok, Mom. I’m not the kind of kid you’re supposed to be proud of. But I do want to help him. I like him.”
“He’s going to get you in trouble of some kind,” she said, not looking at him anymore. He saw her lip tremble and hated himself for a whole two seconds. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“Be grateful you can feel all of them, Mom.”
“You will not make me feel sorry for him, Joshua Joseph.” The predatory bird flared back to life in her eyes. “All those coyote-clever notions of yours came from somewhere, you know. It’s possible I’m not as stupid as those white trash morons you’re selling God-knows-what to down by the river.”
“It’s also possible that of all the things I would do, that I might do something good once in a while.” he said, letting his voice soften. “Even if it’s not something you’re particularly proud of. This time.“
She looked at him again and sighed, and he knew he’d be just barely forgiven one more time.