Boone's eyes flew open, instinct and self preservation sent him reeling backwards, the belt dropping away hard on his collarbone and then there was air, so much air. The rush of oxygen made him twilight for a moment, and when he came to there was Raul, casually leaning against the wall and nudging an ancient basketball with the toe of his boot.
"I knocked," the ghoul said, as relaxed as if they were discussing the weather. He gave the basketball a gentle kick, both of them watching it roll to a stop against Boone's outstretched legs. "Guess you were too busy to answer."
In Boone’s head It's not what it looks like warred with mind your own fucking business, shuffler and instead he took a third option, gawping mutely at his unexpected audience. The belt creaked as it draped loose down his neck.
Goddamnit.
Raul didn't say anything, just eyeballed the ceiling until Boone unbuckled the belt with clumsy fingers, letting it hang limp and abandoned as he shakily got to his feet and zipped himself up.
"It's..." was all he got out.
"None of my business what you do, pendejo," Raul said, the insult sounding almost affectionate. "I only came back to get a fresh shirt 'cause someone thought it'd be funny to toss a drink on an old man. You're lucky someone didn't decide to give Blondie a beer bath."
He tried again. "Don't..."
"Don't tell or don't try?" Raul laughed, a wheezy rattle as he pulled a clean set of clothes from the dresser. "No interest, trust me. I want a thrill, I go and buy the lunch special without asking what the meat is." He shut the drawer with a thump and turned back to Boone, still frozen at the foot of the bed. "I'm old. I've seen a lot of things, done a lot of wild stuff. You with your pito out playing gasper with a belt doesn't even make what's left of my eyebrows raise."
The ghoul stopped at the bedroom door, his free hand already unsnapping the front of his beer-soaked coveralls. "If you're planning on knifing an old man in his sleep for spilling your secret, I'll save you the headache of thinking it out. No plans on saying anything. Those other two, they can find out for themselves if you're stupid enough to let them."
Boone blinked, self-consciously rubbing at the weal he could feel over the ridge of his Adams apple. "Wasn't planning on it," he said eventually. Fantasising about Cass was one thing, but having her know about his predilections was another cock-wilting world of horror entirely... maybe. Probably best she didn't know either way.
"Wise," said Raul pleasantly. "Good move. You want my advice? Lock the door next time."
Boone - 'Gasper' - 3/3
"I knocked," the ghoul said, as relaxed as if they were discussing the weather. He gave the basketball a gentle kick, both of them watching it roll to a stop against Boone's outstretched legs. "Guess you were too busy to answer."
In Boone’s head It's not what it looks like warred with mind your own fucking business, shuffler and instead he took a third option, gawping mutely at his unexpected audience. The belt creaked as it draped loose down his neck.
Goddamnit.
Raul didn't say anything, just eyeballed the ceiling until Boone unbuckled the belt with clumsy fingers, letting it hang limp and abandoned as he shakily got to his feet and zipped himself up.
"It's..." was all he got out.
"None of my business what you do, pendejo," Raul said, the insult sounding almost affectionate. "I only came back to get a fresh shirt 'cause someone thought it'd be funny to toss a drink on an old man. You're lucky someone didn't decide to give Blondie a beer bath."
He tried again. "Don't..."
"Don't tell or don't try?" Raul laughed, a wheezy rattle as he pulled a clean set of clothes from the dresser. "No interest, trust me. I want a thrill, I go and buy the lunch special without asking what the meat is." He shut the drawer with a thump and turned back to Boone, still frozen at the foot of the bed. "I'm old. I've seen a lot of things, done a lot of wild stuff. You with your pito out playing gasper with a belt doesn't even make what's left of my eyebrows raise."
The ghoul stopped at the bedroom door, his free hand already unsnapping the front of his beer-soaked coveralls. "If you're planning on knifing an old man in his sleep for spilling your secret, I'll save you the headache of thinking it out. No plans on saying anything. Those other two, they can find out for themselves if you're stupid enough to let them."
Boone blinked, self-consciously rubbing at the weal he could feel over the ridge of his Adams apple. "Wasn't planning on it," he said eventually. Fantasising about Cass was one thing, but having her know about his predilections was another cock-wilting world of horror entirely... maybe. Probably best she didn't know either way.
"Wise," said Raul pleasantly. "Good move. You want my advice? Lock the door next time."