scngbcrds​:
Fletcher’s grin dropped at Bailey’s insistence upon being alone, his suspicion, standing there quietly for a moment before shrugging. “Alright.” He said, holding both hands up for a moment before dropping them to his sides, “I haven’t been sent after you or some shit- that’s not my job. I’m not here for trouble.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, scrunching his nose at the bottle of moonshine. “I understand. I’m genuinely glad you’re out, man.” He met the other man’s eyes once more, “Find me if you need anything.” With that, Fletcher shifted on his feet, moving to head back out of the bakery, “And drink some fucking water before you pass out. Not sure you’ve had a hangover in a while, and that one looks like it’s gonna be rough.”
.@scngbcrds
Bailey’s face pinched at the slope of Fletcher’s shoulders, but it was the cliff dive the other’s tone had taken that made him feel some type of way. Probably whatever the Grinch felt when his heart grew three sizes.Â
“You don’t have to pout,” Bailey huffed guiltily, reminded once again that prison had only exacerbated whatever little capability he had for social interaction. He lunged forward and gruffly steered Fletcher past the display case. “Come on. You can cry about it here. I’m not in the mood to be a social butterfly tonight.” Translation: he was too drunk to make it past a couple blocks, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t trip and fall into a brawl like a cartoon banana peel. He was stupid and unlucky like that.










