Angelo | John - Late Afternoon

[x-pyromania.livejournal.com]

'It's a bro-mance, Turk. You can't fight it.' -John 'J.D.' Dorian-

"What are you doing?" It was clear what Angelo was doing. He was going to keep an eye on John, just like he always did. His best friend was going to do that thing he always did whenever John decided he wanted to do something completely stupid like drink himself to death or sit on the edge of a building and tempt fate.

Angelo was going to play the part of the mother hen again.

He really needed to stop doing that. It was unnecessary. For one, John had managed to survive close to twelve years of alcohol abuse and general recklessness. And for another, well. Sometimes he wished Angelo would just stop giving a damn. Period. It was unhealthy. It really was.

"Smoke?"

See?

"You know what I'm doin'", Angelo said patiently, '"cause we've been here before.  I'm makin' sure you don't actually kill yourself.  Yeah, I'll take a smoke."

John clicked his tongue and managed a smirk. "Been lucky so far." He lit both cigarettes up and handed one over just as they stepped into the building's stairwell. John Allerdyce had never bothered to use the elevator. Of course, he claimed there was no reason for it. He simply liked the exercise was what he'd say whenever someone dared to ask. Truth was, he just didn't like enclosed spaces. So if he had to climb twenty flights of stairs to get to where he needed to go, he'd fucking do it.

Angelo was matching him pace for pace, drawing deeply on the cigarette.  "Luck only stretches so far, an' where I'm from you watch your friends' backs.  Get used to it."

It would take them at least fifteen minutes to get to the ground floor. That was fifteen minutes of Angelo being a fucking pest. He really should have considered jumping out of the office window. John shook his head, chuckling to himself. What the fuck was wrong with him anyways? If he wasn't busy involving himself with work or school, he was considering the many ways he could get himself into trouble. Maybe he should consider seeing the Professor to get his head checked. Or Jean. Wasn't Jean back? Didn't he think she was alright for a stuffed up righteous person? No, wait. He just thought she was reasonably hot for an older woman. What was she? Forty this year?

"You been to the mansion lately?"

"Yeah, a couple times", Angelo said casually.  "Joyita likes runnin' around the grounds, an' it's good to catch up with people when I get time."

"You mean hanging out with ice prick?" There was no hiding his annoyance with Bobby Drake. The guy was the bane of his existence. Only not really. But damn. Did the asshole have to come back, and work for Elpis?

That got a faintly exasperated sigh.  "When he's around, yeah.  Among other people.  I still don't get what your issue is with him."  That was only half-true.  He had a good idea, but one day he'd get John to admit it.

As always, that would end the conversation about Bobby. John steadfastly refused to talk about his "issues" with Bobby. It was enough that most of everyone else knew that at one point, Bobby Drake was his best friend. They did all sorts of shit together. They were brothers from another mother. That kind of thing. And now... Now they weren't. It was a growing up and apart thing. Something that occurred naturally. That was what he'd like to think it was. Only it wasn't. Not really.

Fucking hell. He needed a drink.

"I got a tattoo." He patted his right arm and instantly regretted it. It hurt. It also itched. There was a possibility that it was infected. His skin felt like it was burning. John had picked the worse tattoo parlor in all of New York. What the hell was he thinking anyways? Also, what the hell did he get tattooed on his arm last night? For the life of him, he couldn't remember. He just hoped it wasn't something corny like, "Winona Forever".

Angelo blinked at him.  "Jesus, how drunk did you get last night?  An' then you wonder why I think you need keepin' out of trouble... what's it of?"

That got him chuckling. "Fuck if I know." He pulled his sleeve up, revealing a bandaged forearm. "Maybe it's a symbol of some sort. Or a... dragon? I don't know." He shrugged. "Should it matter?" John let out a grin. "Hell, I got a tattoo. We should get you one."

"Is that the place you said was burned?" he asked, eyes narrowing as he peered at the bandage.  "Amigo, I've had tats for years.  Down my back, the symbols off my sword."

"I meant another one." John pulled a joint out of his pocket and lit it up. He moved his arm around for a bit then rolled his sleeve back down. "It just feels weird. Here." He handed the rolled up stick over to Angelo. "We should head over to Harry's. I could use a drink."

"They do, for awhile.  Long as it doesn't smell weird, you're probably okay."  He took a drag on the joint before passing it back.  "We could, or we could drink somewhere else for a change.  Or there's a place I was meanin' to show you, anyway."

John wrinkled his nose at the thought of it smelling weird. He made a mental note to splash some disinfectant on his arm later. "What place?"

"Somewhere I think you're gonna like when I tell you what it's for."  He paused, then added, "Not a bar."

"Then that pretty much narrows it down to a strip club or the library. Which one is it?"

Angelo gave him a flat yet amused stare.  "Strip clubs aren't open yet an' I know you're not tellin' me you enjoy the library.  You're not gonna guess, so wait an' see."

How about it. There was something Angelo didn't know about him after all. John actually liked the library. Aside from the bar, the local library was his favorite hangout. That, and bookstores. He could spend hours perusing all the new titles. And John had a secret love affair with writing. He'd written some stuff. Random shit, really. But that was a secret he'd take to his grave.

John rolled his eyes. Clearly he was enjoying this. "Lead the way. But uh, let's stop by the liquor store first." He slipped a silver flask out of his jacket pocket and shook it. "I need a refill."

"Yeah, okay", he agreed with a grin.  "Liquor store, then we're on our way."

---

"Where are we?" They had driven out of town and were now taking a short hike down some hilltop in fuck knows where. John had lost his sense of direction ten minutes ago after downing the last of his drink. He steadied himself, reaching a hand out for Angelo's shoulder and righted himself as they stopped walking. He squinted and tried to focus on the rows and rows of cars in front of them.

"You bought me... a car?" Ridiculous, really. Angelo could have just gotten one delivered to him right at the office. This hike down the hill would then have been completely unnecessary. John wiped the sweat off his brow and frowned. "They're looking a bit beyond repair, don't you think?" Rusty even. Hell, he certainly deserved a better early birthday present than this.

"No, I didn't buy you a car.  Don't you think I'd've got you a new one, if that was it?"  He was grinning broadly behind John's back.  "I bought you a car graveyard."

"A car graveyard," John repeated. Slowly, his eyes grew wide as realization dawned on him. Angelo was presenting him with a veritable buffet of shit to burn. He scanned the rows and rows of abandoned cars in front of them. How many? He couldn't possibly count them. There were plenty of cars to burn, and plenty of other scrap metal crap lying about. "Christ," he said. "Jesus."

"Found it a couple weeks ago, when I was drivin' back in this way."  He hopped up onto one of the car bonnets and sat there, swinging his legs.  "God only knows how all these wound up here, but I asked an' the guy was happy to sell me the land cheap."

"Cheap, huh?" There was no way it could have been that cheap. Hell, what the fuck did he get Angelo for his birthday last year? A crappy necktie. John covered his mouth in an attempt to get rid of the stupid grin on his face; there was no getting rid of it right away though. "Fucking hell. This is..." He shook his head. "I don't know what to think!" He motioned his arm toward the cars. "This is..."

He shook his head again. John felt like a six year old on Christmas morning. He was terribly psyched.

"I fucking love you, man."

"Love you too, John boy", Angelo answered, laughing out loud at the look on his friend's face.  "Just come out here when you get twitchy, 'stead of anythin' else.  An' let me know if anyone dumps anythin' worth rescuin'."

He understood why Angelo had done this. It was another one of his 'keep Allerdyce out of trouble' efforts. John would let it slide though and for once, he might just do as he was told. After all, this was brilliant.

John took his lighter out and drew a flame out into the palm of his hand.

It was high time he let the pyromaniac come out to play.

Comments

[xp_daytripper]

*grins* These two are so adorable...