Send me “rough touch” for a randomly generated situation.
13. Your muse pushes my muse to their knees.
For what little time the two had known one another, it wasn’t a surprise that Jack would be on guard around the other man.
While the setting and it’s people may have had an impact on it, the weapons and smooth speech had it’s own implications. Their pairing had been one made in reluctance - Jack taking what Ronny had to offer with a grain of salt. He didn’t need someone to assist him - anything that Ronny could provide Jack could have...eventually figured out {probably}. Jack, in his mind, was a self-sustaining country boy, with a steel will to get anything done. Though, as his decision had shown, even someone as strong as him often needed some companionship {as much as he didn’t actively notice the need}.
It was his need for a friend {or something close to it} that brought him to let him guard down. He allowed the man to walk behind him, keeping the front clear of any crazies that may have been lurking, with little regard to the ‘caboose’ of their chain.
Only when hands found his back and pushed did Jack regret his ignorance, falling forward and to his knees with a less-than-subtle ‘thump.’ He grunted, moving to jump back to take some kind of revenge, wrench already finding his hand. It was only moments before his swing that he noticed the gesture: a finger, placed firmly before the man’s mouth, knees bent and eyes narrowed -gaze pointed up. In a frozen moment Jack’s gaze followed Ronny’s, spotting the point of interest.
“Darling? Are you hungry?”
The womanly voice shook from the ceiling, hooks clanging against rusted metal piping. She stopped, body going slack from the ceiling, head turning to and fro in a half-hearted search, before she returned herself to the rafters. In a second her form had turned, skittering down the damp and darkened hall.
After some seconds Jack breathed again, looking at Ronny from the ground, posed on one knee with his wrench still in hand. The proud look on Ronny’s face was lost on Jack, returning himself to his feet, wrench finding itself back in his pocket. He turned, moving to continue his strides down, giving the other man one last glance before continuing.
He really didn’t get this guy.
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