e s c o r t

wyatt sutton. thirty-four. guest @ the starlite motel. escort man of the night. room 112.

[wysutton]

Text 📱Wyatt

Ethan: Five year warranty? Alright, damn, good to know!

Ethan: What a visual 😉

Ethan: My goddaugther taught me about emojis. I'll come by to see you in a little bit.

Wyatt: It seems to cover just about anything, so please use it to your heart's content.

Wyatt: You learning emojis should make the world very scared. Quit flirting.

Wyatt: Alright, I'm here.

[wysutton]

Text 📱Wyatt

Ethan: Sorry, yeah I should've told you. I went to visit an old Marine buddy of mine. Him and his family live out in Reno. Spent the holiday with them.

Ethan: Still, it's really nice man. I'm kind of afraid of it but it's awesome. I'm gonna take a little break in about twenty minutes though if you're around.

Wyatt: It's all good. I was just worried. You don't have to answer to me. I'm just glad you're alright.

Wyatt: I got you a five year warranty on it. The company is really good about that type of shit. Yeah, I'm not doing anything. Just lounging in my underwear.

[wysutton]

Text 📱Wyatt

Ethan: Hey man are you around today? I just got back.

Ethan: Sorry I didn't get to see you on Christmas but I got your gift. I really appreciate it. You didn't have to do that for me but it's...its a fucking nice vacuum.

Wyatt: I'm around, yeah. Where'd you disappear to? Want to let a friend know if you're running off especially after what you told me.

Wyatt: No worries. You had to do what was right. Christmas isn't my favorite anyway. I thought you deserved something nice. I'm glad you like it.

[wysutton]

The bass thrummed around Wyatt as he sat back in his chair -- his top shelf scotch resting comfortably in his hand as his eyes danced around the club. The Crazy Horse III was always a good time, as long as the bouncers kept their distance. He enjoyed the artistry that each of the dancers displayed up on the pole. It wasn’t just about the sex appeal, although that didn’t hurt. It was Wyatt’s form of Las Vegas entertainment. Celine Dion’s voice was still amazing. Britney Spears still knew how to put on a hell of a show. But nothing compared to the work and absolute strength the girls showed at the Crazy Horse. 

Sipping his scotch, he turned to the person who had settled next to him. Pocket flush with cash from all the extra hours he’d put in over the holidays, he brought out a few hundred dollar bills and gestured for one of the girls to come over. “Hey, let me buy you a dance!” He raised his voice so his new companion could hear him over the loud music. “A belated Christmas gift. I promise it’s worth it.” 

[wysutton]

chefpacheco:

“What…” Carmen’s lips parted in shock– what a coincidence for them to be brought together again, and in such an unexpected way. “That’s so weird! But in good way! Maybe our paths were meant to be crossed again.” On one hand Carmen was thrilled at the prospect of having the pair in her life, while on the other she worried about what it meant in regards to Nicki. The trio were practically joined at the hip whenever they were in Vegas. Did that mean Nicki was here now? Did they have any ties to her new workplace? Many questions Carmen wanted to voice, instead she did not, it wasn’t fair to put Wyatt in that position. That’s part of the reason, she distanced herself from Emery and Wyatt, placing them in a situation mirroring that of children in a divorce didn’t make sense. Besides, they were originally Nicki’s friends. “That’s the best way to describe them,” she chuckled, even if it hurt to think about Nicki living their best life without her. “I’ve just been busy. I’ll give them a call, soon…” she trailed off. “Aw, stop! I’ve missed your face too! Though the last time I saw you, that wasn’t a thing–” she gestured to the stitches he tried to hide. “–did Emery already beat them up, or do I need to get my hands dirty?”

“Yeah, I figured you might remember that, but we mostly never talked about where I lived. It was all about letting the good times roll. Sometimes literally.” He shook his head with a smile on his lips. It was always a good time when the four of them hung out. He never felt like a third wheel when it came to Carmen and Nicki. It was something he loved about them being together. “You really gonna call her? Or you just telling me that? Should I not mention to them that we ran into each other? They live at The Starlite too.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted from foot to foot. The encounter should feel more awkward than it did, but he did miss Carmen. Not that he could go around mentioning that to anyone but Emery. His face fell as she pointed to the stitches. “Well, it was a Thanksgiving fight. I actually hit Emery’s brother and he hit back.” He smiled at her and pulled her into another hug. “It’s great to have you back. Already ready to throw down for me. How have you been? Anything new?”

[josephskeery]

Sebastian Stan for Esquire magazine.

[wysutton]

fallonellis:

The kiss left Fallon spellbound and aching for more, the soft press of his lips racketing up the building tension between them.  She knew that if they didn’t leave now, there would be no second date — not outside of her room, anyway.  Intent on making one last attempt for a normal date, she resisted every urge that told her to kiss him again, instead pulling away just enough to remain in his grasp but far enough to prevent them from getting carried away.  She didn’t hold herself to a standard, didn’t count the days or wait to meet benchmarks in a relationship before sleeping with someone; that was based purely on instinct and her own discretion in the moment, as well as the consent of her partner (or partners).  The text messages shared between the two of them in the preceding days had generated longing in her for something more, but there was time.  For now, at least.

“Where are you taking me?”  she asked, trailing her hand up Wyatt’s forearm to rest at his bicep.  “Somewhere good, I hope. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tonight.”  It was an easy joke, delivered with a smile to counteract any inkling that she was upset.  Had their previous interactions gone to plan?  No, but was a story to tell, memories made, and more importantly, it showed her just what sort of person he was.  “Let me get my coat.”  She flashed him a smile and stepped away to collect the item in question from the back of the chair by the door, scanning the floor nearby to pick a pair of shoes.  “Since you were such a pro at the clothing choices,”  she said, sliding her arms into the warm jacket,  “why don’t you pick my shoes, too?”

One of them had the fortitude to pull away because Wyatt felt himself careening toward the edge of a cliff. He was ready to take his hands off the wheel and hope for the best. If Fallon hadn’t pulled away slightly, he would be lost to her spell for the rest of the night. Not that he wouldn’t be none, but her lips wouldn’t be so close for him to make another wildly dangerous move. He knew one kiss would lead to another, especially based on the energy of the room. But all Wyatt wanted to do was at the very least, kiss her properly. In a way, it was an apology for everything that happened before. Because in his gut, he knew that Fallon wouldn’t take the words -- they’d be shrugged off.

Clearing his throat as she finally untangled herself from him, he stayed frozen in a place. Picturing a Lamaze class, he mimicked from the breathing techniques to calm him down. With each inhale and then exhale, he felt a little better. “I figured I could surprise you, but I feel like we don’t need to do that. It’s the Flying Dragons -- a Chinese joint. They make the best fucking dim-sum I’ve ever had. It’s a family recipe.” He laughed as himself as he watched her grab the last few items she might need. “I’ve tried many time to get a hint and I’ve only been yelled at in Chinese. I think they only allow me back because I order so much.” He watched as she slipped into her coat, effectively covering the outfit she had just put on. But his memory was vivid. 

At her request, he sized up her outfit one more time before his eyes scanned the shoes. They feel on a pair of red heels and bend down to pick them up. “What about these? They aren’t as high as some of the others. And I don’t think those red Converse match.” He allowed her a second to pull them on before propping open the door. Once they were both safely outside, he offered her his arm as they made their way downstairs and towards an Uber that awaited them. “I thought ahead this time. Meet Greg, our transportation for the evening. Or this leg of it anyway.” He turned to kiss Fallon’s cheek softly before opening her door. “You look amazing.”

[wysutton]

monikademartel:

Monika’s eyebrows pulled together in a sullen manner when his finger tapped the end of her nose.  It wasn’t often that her offers for mischief went ignored, explicit or not. “Nose booping is very… condescending.” She struggled with the word before finally getting it out. “But I’ll forgive you,” she followed up, lifting her eyebrows to suggest consideration. “Maybe.”

When he pretended to dry heave, Monika dissolved into peals of laughter, the fit racking her body as violently as the hiccups that had disrupted her speech. She wiped at her face, trying to clear the tears that dripped down her warm cheeks, the last traces of amusement fading into quieter giggles as he explained his profession. The laugher soon returned at the thought of a grown adult wearing a muzzle, and she covered her mouth to keep from drawing attention from the officers on the other side of the bullpen. “How do you keep a straight face during all of that? I’m sure it helps to think about the money, but oh my god.” Choking on a laugh, she began to settle once more, her head falling back against the wall. She breathed a loud sigh and looked back over at the escort in time to see him withdrawing a card from the inside pocket of his jacket, as if brandishing an important item ⏤ though, to him, it was of importance, not that Monika was in any state to understand the business side of his employment. “Wyatt Sutton,” she read, her fingertips running over the raised typography. “So if I call this number on here, you’ll answer?” Turning over the card to scan the back, she asked, “Is there like a price list or something?”

Wyatt hadn’t realized that his simple boop of her nose would be considering condescending. But as soon as the words left the blonde’s mouth, he felt bad. It was honestly the only way his drunk mind could cope with the proposition. He didn’t want to deny her and send her into a drunken rant or worse. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking. I hope you do forgive him.” He leaned forward to make sure he was in her line of sight and then gave her the best pout he could muster. 

Her laughter was enough to brighten his spirit. He knew Emery would arrive at any minute (or so he hoped, she hadn’t been thrilled at his call so early in the morning) and the laughter was much welcomed. Once she calmed down, it seemed some random thought or another had her spiraling into another fit of laughter. He couldn’t help but join her, something about this woman was infectious. “Sometimes we laugh and sometimes we don’t. I make sure to practice beforehand. Plus, these people are trusting me to be sensitive to their wants and needs. It’s the least I can do.” He followed up his answer with a slight shrug. “That’s me, but you can just call me Wyatt. Full name is not necessary. Yeah, that’s why my number is there. You call, I’ll answer. Usually. Unless I’m with a client or sleeping.” He glanced over at her while she scanned the card. “Prices are case by case. So no price list. Do you happen to have a name?”

[wesleygasm]

Sebastian Stan @ “I, Tonya” Q & A  in New York City | December 16, 2017

[wysutton]

monikademartel:

While sober, Monika was one to toot her own horn — but drunk? It was only amplified, her self-confidence bolstered by the liquid courage floating through her veins. Her tongue slid across her lower lip and she noticeably looked him up and down at his question. “Not just any book,” she said, holding his gaze, “but her own book.” Her shoulder blades slid across the painted brick wall closer to him, her shoulder knocked against his. “Want to write your own chapter?” It was bold, it was brash, it was downright crass, but it was the kind of intrepid forwardness that characterized Monika’s behavior, with or without a bit (a lot) of Patrón in her stomach. Her eyes stayed trained on the other, even when his face morphed into a look of disapproval.

“There are worse places to be. I might be sitting on a floor that’s been pissed on, but it’s better than being posted up under Glen’s greasy mullet,” she jerked her thumb in the direction of the sleeping man and winced at the thought of him on top of her. It wasn’t that he was old enough to be her father; she had a strict rule that forbade sexual contact with any mullet owners. She’d made that mistake once before, at a county fair back home. A last hiccup racked her body before the admission of his occupation shocked her into momentary silence. “An escort.” Her mind began to buzz, a million questions formulating in her liquor-fogged head. She had propositioned an escort. This would make for an interesting story, if she could salvage the details the next day. “Have you ever used a muzzle with someone? What did that pay? Are people generally cool or do they super weird in the room? Do you have a business card?”

“Her own book?” Wyatt didn’t need this. Especially didn’t need her to shift over and knock shoulders with him. Her offer would have been more tempting if he didn’t feel himself slipping into a further drunken stupor at the state of her breath. He wasn’t one to take advantage of anyone, even if she was the one offering. The floor of the drunk tank was not somewhere he wanted to fuck. At least, not at this particular moment. Yes, the blonde was beautiful. She was brash and had enough bite to intrigue Wyatt. But he had his own blonde waiting for him when he got out of lockup. And tonight was not the night to explore. “Maybe if we meet again. I prefer for my partner to remember when I rock their world.” He reached over and booped her nose. 

His eyes drifted over to Glen. His stomach rolled at the thought of the man fucking either of them. It wasn’t like Wyatt hadn’t had his fair share of horror stories, but at least he got paid for his services. “Don’t ever bring that imagery to my head again. My stomach can’t handle it.” Pretending to gag, he shifted so he was sitting up a little straighter. He usually didn’t blurt his profession to strangers, especially not in lock up, but he didn’t care anymore. “Yes, I have. One client likes wearing it when we have our sessions. I don’t know why, but I don’t judge. Well, it depends on how long and what they want, but that particular client paid me a grand for a few hours. People are cool, they just have specific things they like. I don’t like to judge just because it’s not conventional. I’ve had a few people who are out of control, but I never take their business again. Actually, yes.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he brought out a silver card case and produced an embellished card. “There you go.”

[wysutton]

fallonellis:

Wyatt’s hand sent a rippling shiver through Fallon’s body as his fingertips ghosted up her spine, his touch as soft and intimate as she had imagined.  She felt a familiar stirring in her belly when his nails scraped fresh lines along her skin.  His touch was intoxicating; paired with the huskiness of his voice, she had to wonder if they were ever going to make it through the door.  “So that settles it,”  she said, turning to offer her wrist to him.  “I’ll wear this.”  He made quick work of the button, his gaze traveling over the front of the blouse.  When he closed his eyes, she knew he had seen what the cold silk and excitement in the moment had done to her, and when he cursed, she knew they were both in trouble.  

With his gentle tug of her wrist, he pulled her in closer and she didn’t try to stop him.  After days of trading text messages to revise the mess of their chaotic first encounter, followed by their disastrous first official date, it felt as if they were finally hitting the right strides.  She offered her other wrist to him next, to allow him to fasten the button, her eyes never leaving his when he looked to her.  “I can’t go out with only one cuff done.”  Fallon’s voice was even, playful.  She arched an eyebrow at him to spur him on.  If we manage to leave, she wanted to say, but there had been enough interruptions and detours in the past, and this was a clean slate, a fresh start — not something she wanted to sully with her own desires.  “Should we go?”

Wyatt’s fingers were trembling as he did the second button on Fallon’s wrist. He never had felt so unsure of himself. A plethora of options on how to proceeded flooded his mind. His heart hammering in his chest was distracting. Less distracting than the sound of her voice and the way her body reacted to his fingers on her skin. “Yeah, you have to wear this.” He sighed trying to regain control over the situation. But that seemed next to impossible with how close she was now. He held onto her wrist to make sure she didn’t float away. Half of him believed this was a dream. He had fallen asleep on his bed hours before their date and was only hallucinating this entire encounter. 

His eyes studied her face as she arched an eyebrow. She was flirty and egging him on. Wyatt didn’t want to fuck up this date. Everything needed to be perfect. No matter how he felt, he wouldn’t rush it, or her. But her tone and the implication behind each word made him dizzy. “No.” The word came out sharp and ringing in his ears. He had no idea where it came from and he wanted to regret it. Nerves were wracking his whole body, but somehow the single word came out clear and unwavering. 

Maybe he should have asked. Maybe he should have waited to kiss her, but the tension in the room was so thick, it made it difficult to breathe. He needed to cut through it and the only solution seemed to be with his lips. He kissed her gingerly, soft and exploratory. He wanted to remember what to felt like -- her lips and his. He clung to her, one hand still encircled around her wrist and the other hooked around her waist keeping Fallon close. Sighing, he finally pulled away, eyes still fluttered close. “Now we can go.”

[wysutton]

monikademartel:

“Historical pussy.” Monika repeated her fellow drunk’s words, ruminating on the sound of each syllable before repeating it again. “I think I’ve found the title of my memoirs,” she grinned. It was a funny phrase, its humor heightened by her current state of intoxication, and she chuckled at the thought of her more refined siblings reacting to such a title. Not that she had any plans to write a book, nevermind her own autobiography, but there was no harm in being prepared. “Society is weird” ⏤ it was a comment that could have used additional context, maybe even an explanation, but she would allow him to fill in the blanks and interpret it however he wanted. She was too far gone to elucidate.

“F-frowned upon maybe,” Monika said, shaking with each hiccup that originated from deep within her chest, “but not illegal.” She couldn’t understand what it was that he was implying he did. If he made money in hotels, did that mean he worked for one? Or maybe he was a gambler, cleaning up at the roulette wheel, padding his pockets with his winnings.  Perhaps that was how he was able to comment on the crazed betting habits of those around him, around both of them, in the country’s hotspot for playing the odds. She was thinking about her own luck after he suggested her fortune for having not been assaulted by one of the players when he began to shift next to her, a yawn ripping from this throat. “I’m not having a stroke,” she insisted, eyebrows pulling together in a slight frown. “I was trying to be sexy. About as sexy as someone can be in a place like this. A muzzle for work? Are you a dogcatcher? I thought you worked in a hotel or something.”

He ran a hand through his hair as he thought about her comment. He couldn’t help but let a chuckle pass from his lips. “Your pussy is good enough for the books, huh?” He raised his eyebrows as he leaned forward to make eye contact with her. He briefly thought about the title of his own memoir. It would be the size of a Tolstoy novel and Wyatt wasn’t even thirty-five yet. He nodded in agreement to her assessment about society. “Society is more than weird. Especially behind closed doors. We act holier than thou and then...” He trailed off and found a comically large frown on his face.

The hiccup caught him off guard in his drunken stupor and he almost jumped off the floor. “This is Las Vegas. You don’t want to fuck with the house and them making money. You’re lucky you weren’t arrested. It’s just a few hours in this hell hole with Glen and me.” The frown was enough to make him feel bad for even suggesting it. But his mouth and brain had a forgotten to get in touch with each other. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “It definitely came across, you’re super sexy.” He couldn’t help but giggle at her question. A dogcatcher. It made sense in the context of what they were talking about, but he wasn’t even sure if that was even a job anymore. The thought of him with a comically large net chasing around wily dogs was hilarious. “No, I’m an escort. So I conduct my work on hotel property, usually. The muzzle is for a client who is into that sort of thing.” 

[chazelle]

I’m in a bit of a situation. A pickle, if you will. I just… I got no one else to call.

[wysutton]

ethan-dorsey:

“Oh it’s my fault?” Ethan let out a soft laugh as he looked at Wyatt. “Well Etta James will do that to you, she has that affect on people.” He took a deep breath as they got in the car and nodded. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe it’s a new start for you too,” he said and gave Wyatt a small smile. “I know I obviously have a lot of shit going on but you know if you need to talk, I’m here, alright? I mean I may not be able to make shit less confusing but as I’ve learned in the past…three hours, talking it out helps a little bit or a whole lot.” He gave Wyatt’s hand a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. I will.” He let out a long breath as he glanced out the window when Wyatt took off, still a little mesmerized by the snow. “It’s funny, I was just telling someone the other day how much I loved the snow. Maybe you’re right. It as a gift,” he said with a soft laugh, pressing his head against the window and letting the cold soothe his mind a little bit. 

He let the silence watch over them as he let his eyes close for a little bit, still trying to quiet his mind. He thought about what he as going to say to Fallon when he saw her, playing different scenarios in his head, most of them ending with her telling him to fuck off. But he knew that she wouldn’t do that, even if it was what he deserved. When he opened his eyes and saw that they were only minutes away, he took a deep breath and sat up a bit more, running a hand over his face. “Home sweet home,” he joked as they pulled into the motel parking lot. He had only been gone a few days but it felt like years, especially with the snow making the place appear a lot different. “Alright,” he said as he got out of the car and took in a deep breath. 

“I’m gonna head to the office and see if I can find a shovel. I’m sure we have some somewhere and if not I’ll hit up Delgado’s and see if they can help me out. I…know that I’m not exactly in the best state but if it’s okay with you I’d kind of like to take the time alone to just walk around the motel and check things out. Is that cool?” He glanced at Wyatt, not wanting to seem ungrateful for his company but he figured he could use some moments alone too. “I’ll come find you once I finish up. I promise. I just need some…familiarity right now, you know? And being a maintenance man..that’s something I don’t have to put too much thought into.”

Wyatt was mostly grateful for the quiet drive back to the motel. So much was swirling through his mind, especially the kiss and Fallon waiting for him in his bed. He wanted to curl up next to her and fuck the rest for a while. But that wouldn’t be fair. He couldn’t bury his head in the sand. He needed to talk to her, to let her know that Ethan was a good man, even if he had torn her heart out. The mess of which Wyatt had to clean up. Not that he minded, he enjoyed the extra time with her, their bond solidifying. But it only made the whole situation more fucked up. Jaw set, he pulled into the parking lot, only pulling his eyes to look at Ethan.

“You do what you gotta do.” He leaned over and pulled Ethan into another hug, firm and a little long lasting. “You feel tempted, you know where I am. I can be strong for you when you can’t be.” He ruffled the janitor’s hair playfully before turning the car off. The snow began to gather on the windshield and all Wyatt could do was stare at it fall. “Go on. Help keep this place together. You need me, I’m here.” He climbed out of the car and watched Ethan do the same before heading back to his room and the mess that lay ahead.

[wysutton]

ethan-dorsey:

The last thing Ethan had expected was a kiss but he didn’t push Wyatt away and found himself kissing him back. When he pushed him back and sighed, Ethan looked him with confusion, standing still for a moment as he looked at him. “Y-you know, usually when people kiss me they have an opposite reaction. I-I actually didn’t think I was a bad kisser,” he said with a soft laugh and stepped toward Wyatt, reaching out for his hand. He reminded himself of the gentleness Wyatt had showed him and put his hand to rest on his cheek. “Are you okay?” He met his eyes for a moment, sure that even if he wasn’t Wyatt wouldn’t tell him but he had to ask. He understood that in his situation, no one wanted to talk about stuff that seemed to pale in comparison but that didn’t do much to quell his concern. He brushed a thumb across Wyatt’s cheek before leaning in again, kissing him slowly as his free hand rest on the other man’s bicep. After a minute he pulled away, a shy smile on his face as he pulled back and met his eyes. “If you’re gonna kiss me, do it right next time,” he said with a soft laugh, meeting his eyes for another moment before he grabbed his jacket and pulled the door open. 

He wasn’t really sure what to feel and he was acting purely on impulse at this point. But he hadn’t felt like he had monumentally fucked up in the past four hours so it was at least progress. He glanced back at Wyatt to make sure he was with him before making his way down the stairs and to the small parking lot in front of his building. “Well isn’t this some shit,” Ethan breathed out as he looked around at the snow, kicking some up with his foot. “It’s beautiful,” he said with a soft laugh, reaching down to touch some of it with his hand. “It’s soft, which means I’m gonna need to put a lot of salt down. Shit, where do you even get salt for ice in Vegas?” He shook his head as they walked towards the car and waited on the passenger side for Wyatt to unlock it. 

The question and the tenderness caught Wyatt off guard. It wasn’t that people in his life didn’t care, but lately all the focus was on them. And he was okay with it. In all honesty, he preferred it. Most days, he felt the most the could offer was his presence and a shoulder to lean on. Everything was confusing right now and the question made his chest seize up. “Yeah, confused about a lot of shit, but I’m okay. I should have probably check if it --,” before he could continue his thought, Ethan was kissing him again. It was a more passionate kiss than the one before, but he found himself melting into it like a fool. Instead of clearing things up, Wyatt had made everything more complicated. “Don’t insult my kissing. You’re the one who started singing to me and then grabbed my face. It’s your god damn fault.” Shoving his hands into his jacket, he followed Ethan out of his apartment.

Digging around his pants, he pulled out his keys as they made their way downstairs. His head was once again swimming, but the shock of cold air was enough to bring him back to reality. He thought about laying down in it for a while. Instead, he unlocked his car. “Maybe it’s a good sign. The snow. Good for you. It’s a new beginning. Covering up the old and all the mistakes. You can start new.” He climbed into the driver seat and immediately clicked on the ignition. He cranked up the heat as he felt his teeth begin to chatter. “No idea, but we can google it? There has to be someplace in the city.” Making sure Ethan was buckled in safely, he put the car in reverse and reached to his hand. “You alright? You need a break, let me know, okay?”

[wysutton]

ethan-dorsey:

“No, no I can’t let you cover a room for me. I’ve got money. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out. I’m not so keen on leaving my apartment but I just need to think about it a little more.” He looked around the living room and nodded when Wyatt said he wouldn’t mind sticking around. “Alright, I’ll be back in a little bit. You already know where everything is so knock yourself out,” he said, though he figured Wyatt would just continue to help him clean up. Something he appreciated more than he could really say. 

Ethan let out a long sigh as he started to undress and turned on the water. He was grateful for Wyatt’s presence but it also brought reality back into his mind.The world still existed and outside of the walls of his apartment was a place he wasn’t sure how to face. Fallon, Jimmy, the motel, it was all a part of his life now but he wasn’t sure he was ready to face it again. “Well we can’t always get what we want,” he mumbled to himself as he stepped under the water, sighing as he took it in. He ran his hands over his face then through his hair, standing up the hot water for a little while as he felt every little pain in his body. He thought of how Fallon had traced the scars on his body, how gentle she had been with him. He thought of how despite the emptiness he felt, Wyatt had come over immediately. He had been soft and gentle with him. He hadn’t accused him, he had just been there. He thought of Emery and how sweet she had been to him when they bought the dog. Or at least Emery’s brand of sweet. A thought that caused him to let out a soft laugh. He thought of Nikki and how they jumped on his back whenever they saw him, always offering food and telling him he had to relax more. And lastly he thought of Jimmy, the man who made it all possible. He took in a deep breath, the emotions a bit overwhelming as the realization hit him. This was his family. They weren’t perfect, they were kind of all messes but they were messes together and that was what made them even stronger. They loved him. They cared about him and it was something he hadn’t been used to in a long time.

The realization caused a few tears to fall from his face, tears that turned into a few more tears as he covered his face and pushed all of the emotions out of his body. He took a moment to let it all settle. The disappointment in himself that he had almost given all of that up. That he had risked letting all of them down. They loved him and he knew that he loved them too. He just had to figure out a way to show that by taking care of himself. It seemed like a lot of effort and one he didn’t know he could do but he figure that was why they told you that it couldn’t be done alone. After a few more minutes he finished up in the shower, drying himself quickly and wrapping a towel around his waist as he stepped out into his bed room. “You good in there?” He yelled out, just to make sure Wyatt was okay as he tried to find some clean clothes to wear. 

He hummed softly to himself as he moved around the room before he paused and walked out into the living room, still in his towel. “Sorry, I have a song in my head that I can’t get out and that just means I need to hear it. Something about the blues that just…kind of makes you feel a little less blue,” he joked and shook his head, searching for a certain record before he put it on. “I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he said to Wyatt as the song started and he shamelessly sang along. “If you know the words sing it with me,” he said on his way back to his room. A few minutes later he came back in a pair of jeans and a sweater with his work boots on. “Alright, I still feel like I got hit by a truck but it’s the best we’re gonna get,” he said with a nod and a soft smile, still swaying slightly to the music. He pointed at Wyatt with a slight smile and sang along, “and, baby, baby, baby, I’d rather be blind, boy, than to see you walk away, walk away from me,” He moved closer to him again and took his face in his hands, looking at him for a moment longer before he leaned forward and kissed his forehead, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, I need some fresh air.”

The sound of the shower was calming. He always had an affinity for rain and the running shower was enough to get him out of his head. He continued to clean, his head down trying not to think. If he stopped for even a moment, then something bad would happen. He was sure of it. He had spent so long shoving everyone else out, that now it was all coming to a head. He knew he had a family at The Starlite, it’s why he would probably never leave. One day, Jimmy would find his skeleton on the bed or something. Fallon, Emery, Nicki, Ethan, Dianna. Each person was another stab to his heart. 

Sighing, he barely even registered Ethan’s voice ringing from the bedroom. Cleaning was supposed to clear his mind, but instead he was so deeply entranced he had no idea which way was up. “I’m good, just picking up.” His voice barely carried and he didn’t care. There was no use raising his voice. Ethan would either hear him or not. At the sound of steps on the floor, Wyatt turned and saw Ethan in a towel. His eyes lingered on the tattoos and scars. He wondered briefly what each of them meant and maybe one day he would ask. He turned back to his cleaning and nodded when Ethan mentioned putting on a particular song. 

When his friend disappeared back into his room. Wyatt let out a sigh of relief. He steadied himself on the counter, almost afraid that his legs would give out. He now felt exhausted. The sound of boots caught his attention again. The music was unfamiliar to him, but Wyatt wasn’t very well versed in anything outside of 90s R&B. The singing brought a smile to his face. He once again could focus on what was right in front of him instead of the mess of his head. Then Ethan had to go and grab his face and stare at him for a fraction to long before kissing his forehead. Wyatt’s stomach and heart lurched together and he swore it was sheer willpower alone that kept him upright. Without thinking, he grabbed the front of Ethan’s sweater and pulled him into a kiss. It was the janitor’s fault for grabbing his face and singing at him. But Wyatt had gone and complicated shit, his forte. With a sigh and a lick of his lips, he pushed Ethan away and headed for the door. “C’mon then. The motel is waiting for us.” 

[wysutton]

ethan-dorsey:

“It’s not about time,” he said and glanced at him. “Love. I mean relationships, yeah, they require time and dedication but love…you can love someone the moment you meet them.” He smiled softly as he thought about it, picturing a younger Fallon in his head, muttering as she messed with some of her luggage. It had taken so much courage to talk to her but his younger self had no hesitations about it. “There’s this quote by Junot Diaz,” Ethan started as he picked up a few more bottles. “He wrote ‘she was the kind of girlfriend God gives you young, so you’ll know loss the rest of your life.” He nodded after her finished and glanced at Wyatt for a moment. “Now she wasn’t exactly my girlfriend but you get the sentiment. Sometimes there are just people who..change everything. And sometimes we don’t realize it until they’re gone.” He tied up one of the bags and put it near the door with a sigh. 

“But you’re right, I need to apologize to her. Big time.” He stood at the door for a moment and looked around the apartment again. “What a fucking mess,” he breathed out before going back to cleaning up. “Okay but I’m not giving you yours early. I’m not falling for that trick,” he joked, glad that Wyatt had come over. He already felt like a slight weight was starting to lift over his chest. Though he wasn’t naive enough to believe that it would all really be that easy. “And I don’t know. I was thinking a boxer. Kind of seems like my kind of dog, you know? Emery and I did all of this research and it was the conclusion we came to so.” He shrugged as he thought about a dog running around his apartment. He smiled softly before he felt himself being pulled into a hug. He hugged him tightly, hoping he knew how grateful he was. “Thank you,” he said softly and patted his back. “You’re…a really great friend, Wyatt. I haven’t had a good friend in a really long time.” He reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze as he met his eyes.

He took another moment before moving into the kitchen to start working on the mound of dishes. “I don’t know, I was thinking of asking Jimmy if I could pay him to stay in a room for a little while. Or maybe I don’t know…moving.” He shrugged as he turned on the water. “I thought of asking my sister to come down too. Though I haven’t talked to her in a few days. I was pretty pissed she didn’t tell me that Nora was engaged. That would’ve been a nice heads up, you know? But…I’m not gonna waste my anger on my 22 year old sister. She doesn’t know any better.” He sighed as he thought about the whole thing. “You know, if I hadn’t fucked up the way I did, I’d be married now, probably with like two kids and living in one of Richmond’s finest neighborhoods. Helping my dad run his company.” He laughed as he thought about it and shook his head. “But when I think about that life I can’t help but think…maybe all of this was supposed to happen. Or maybe it’s just a way of justifying how shitty all of this is. I don’t know.” He shrugged and squeeze some more soap out as he glanced out the window in front of the sink. 

“How uh, how are things at the motel? This is the first day of work I’ve missed in four years and it’s kind of fucking with me.” He sighed and turned to lean against the counter after finishing the dishes. “You think you’d’ mind waiting around while I showered and got myself together? I mean I still look like and kind of  feel like shit but I feel like I should at least go and make sure it’s okay. And no one else is gonna shovel this snow.” He motioned outside of the window and shook his head. “Is that okay with you?”

“I guess I don’t really agree with that. Love takes time to cultivate, but that’s just my opinion. I’m not expert on the subject, so it doesn’t really matter one way or another. I do believe in connections though. Some people just have a pull towards each other with no explanation.” Wyatt shrugged as he continued to clean. He felt wildly uncomfortable, but he once again told himself to relax. It wasn’t about him -- like so much that was happening lately. It was a mantra he had developed and called upon it now. “I can’t quote any pretty books or anything. I’m at a loss here.” He managed another smile as he nodded along. 

He licked his lips as he continued to clean. It made sense why Ethan found pleasure in keeping things tidy. It was a good way to keep his mind off everything swirling around in it. “Just be you -- be genuine, Ethan. The rest will fall into place. If you love her, then trust that she feels the same, yeah? We fuck up, but it’s how we handle the aftermath that counts.” He managed a weak chuckle and shook his head. “Nah, I just got you something nice and maybe it’ll perk you up. At least one of the things I got you. Don’t worry, I don’t need anything.” 

His ears perked up at Emery. The name sending a twist of longing in his gut. He had planned on spiked hot chocolate and snow angels. Maybe stuffed crust pizza and garlic bread. Not a confusing wave of feelings pummeling through him at a dizzying rate.  “Boxer is a good dog. We know that it’ll look like you at the very least.” He grinned finally. The grin faltered at his next words. Wyatt shook his head. “Thank you, but so are you. I’ll always have your back, alright? No matter the time or what the problem. It’s what friends are for.” 

He ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the apartment. It was filled with a lot of memories. A lot of long nights gathered around the TV with a blunt passed between them. “You need me to cover a room for you, it’s the least I can do. I’m sure Jimmy would be okay with it. If you need to crash in my room or have me stay here until you figure it out, I got you too. Whatever you need. Least I can do. As for what could have been...” He trailed off and just shrugged. “I could have a degree and be running my own company in Chicago. Shit happens for a reason. A cookie cutter life wasn’t meant for you, just like it wasn’t meant for me. It’s not to say you can’t have your own slice of happiness, but it’s not the stereotypical bullshit. All of it was supposed to happen. I happen to look at my life the same way.” 

Turning away to look out the window, he let out a dry laugh. He thought about Fallon waiting for him in bed. His heart lurched once again and he cursed quietly to himself. “Motel hasn’t burned down, but your presence is missed. I think everyone is just entranced by the snow. Not a lot of movement. Or rather, when I left there wasn’t.” He turned to look at Ethan and rolled his eyes playfully. “Of course I don’t mind. I’ll even help you shovel some snow when we get back. Go shower. I’m here. I won’t go anywhere.” 

Rocking back on his heels, Wyatt watched and Ethan disappeared into the bathroom. He continued to pick up locating the cleaning supplies in the usual spot. Busying himself felt better than being idle. If he stopped, then a whole flood of thoughts and emotions would hit him. Wyatt couldn’t afford that.