for @doggonemad

[throughbamboo]

just bros being bros

Comments

[throughbamboo]

Yer damn right.

[it comes out a little softer, but no less certain. He watches the smoke from his cigarette float upwards]

Would'a got down here sooner if I could.

[doggonemad]

[ The softness makes him glance down at the ground, brows furrowing somewhat. ]

Was hopin' ta keep ya out of this shit. Figures it'd all blow up.

[throughbamboo]

[that makes him glance over, frowning]

Ya really thought that'd keep me out of it?

[doggonemad]

Guy can dream, right?

[ haha, he's so funny, right. ]

[throughbamboo]

[he's SO funny]

Think ya had the wrong dream in mind, 'cuz doin' all that just got me out early.

[doggonemad]

[ snorts, taking another drag. ]

Things don't always go as planned, do they.

[throughbamboo]

They rarely do.

[he takes a drag as well, leaning back on one of his hands]

Expellin' me just made me realize that isn't why I was there. Should be thankin' ya for that, honestly.

[doggonemad]

[ looks up and over, raising an eyebrow at him. ]

Haw?

[throughbamboo]

Goin' back to the yakuza wasn't what I wanted. It was gettin' back and bein' with you and everyone else.

[doggonemad]

[ He stares at him for a long moment before looking down again, mumbling around his cigarette. ]

You can't just say shit like that, bro.

[throughbamboo]

[he raises an eyebrow]

Hmm? Why's that?

[doggonemad]

S'all . . . soft, like a marshmallow.

[throughbamboo]

You callin' me a marshmallow, bro?

[but he shrugs, taking a drag from his smoke]

There ain't nothin' wrong with bein' soft every now and then.

[doggonemad]

If the shoe fits, bro.

[ keeps staring down. ]

'til it gets ya killed. Sure.

[throughbamboo]

Nah. [he takes a drag]

That kinda soft is the kind that makes ya stronger, makes ya wanna fight for it.

If it gets me killed, then I was too weak to begin with.

[doggonemad]

. . .

[ He just sighs, shaking his head. ]

Got any other words o' wisdom ya wanna drop on me?

[throughbamboo]

[he takes one last drag of his cigarette, then puts it out on the step nearby]

Do ya need 'em?

[doggonemad]

[ shrugs, still not looking over. ]

Dunno. Haven't had 'em in a couple've years.

[throughbamboo]

[. . .

He pulls out another cigarette, letting it hang from his lips as he searches for his lighter]

So I gotta drop a whole lot of 'em to make up for it.

[doggonemad]

[ produces his lighter and holds it out to him without even looking over. ]

You can start by keepin' yer ass outta prison.

[throughbamboo]

[he takes it and lights up again, then holds it back out]

Ain't yer fancy lawyer tryin' to do that? Even though I still got time to serve?

[doggonemad]

[ takes it back. ]

Yeah. It's lookin' good. Ya shoulda been gettin' parole right about now, anyway. But if he comes with a good offer, are ya gonna take it?

[throughbamboo]

[looking over the cigarette between his fingers, frowning. He doesn't answer immediately]

If he gets one, then I'll think 'bout it.

. . . ain't like I wanna go back, bro.

[doggonemad]

[ finally looking over. ]

Then don't. Take the deal. [ a beat. ] Stay with me.

[throughbamboo]

[he pauses at that, fingers stilling]

Is that what ya really want?