liar randy. randy who lies about anything he thinks he can get away with. his favorite color, his favorite food. it's not like people really ask anyways, just enough to fill the awkward silence of the day. randy who especially lies to his mom, maybe even about bigger things. friends from class, girls he's crushing on (he doesn't find out until much later that the discomfort around that isn't exactly just because of the lying), what he wants for dinner. in a way it's to deny himself something, to feel the control of denying other's something, to distance himself /just in case/ something happens. in other ways, it's an act of rebellion.
liar randy who chokes up around benson, forces out more truths than lies around him. at first he thinks he must be intimidated. benon's gaze is so mesmerizing threatening, of course he'd lose his nerve. three dead people and a car ride later, he realizes it's because he wants to be seen. the truth spills out like shaken soda, word vomit on carseats. any of benson's questions he answers almost too eagerly. ends up oversharing and giving up mental bruises for benson to press. he's rewarded with a firm hand on his neck and just a little bit more from benson. he lets onto things slowly, answers the light questions. favorite color, favorite food, friends, crushes. because randy's genuinely curious and benson wants to be known to fill the silence. then he tests the waters, talks about his ma. randy talks about his own, but only when benson shoots him a half-expectant, half-defensive look ("don't run away from me now, randy.")
randy and benson who have both spent their entire lives lying, skirting truths, or just plain not talking about themselves. randy and benson who know more about each other than anyone could possibly imagine.
