b-raad

[b-raad]

Brad walked down the halls quietly, listening to Knowa's breathing, smiling softly to himself the entire way down. He let his mind wander to god-knows-where, feet working on auto-pilot all the way down to his room. When he reached his door, he shifted around Knowa to push his way into the room. He placed Knowa on his couch and sat next to him. 

"You can sleep if you want to, Knowa. I'll still be here when you wake up." He reassured and pulled Knowa into his lap, nuzzling into his neck and yawning. "I haven't really slept much myself, to be honest. Can't really find sleep anymore..." He yawned again and cursed himself. "You can-- totally, nap man, I'll be--" Yawn. "Right here."

Reunited nd it feeeelz sew gud|| Knowa and Brad

Knowa is fully aware of the state of Brad’s apartment; he’s not sure that he’s ever seen it clean, but it doesn’t bother him. It’s Brad’s room, and it suits him - even if the syringes and pills laying around make him sad upon occasion, makes him wonder. It would have been much easier to properly kill himself in this day-and-age rather than living forever with the bitter taste of a failed attempt in the back of his throat.

He can’t help a raspy giggle when Brad says, ‘Nope’ in response to his question. He feels like a child but perhaps that’s what he needs; to be babied, just for a little while. He won’t complain if Brad is the one to do the babying. He rests his cheek on Brad’s bony shoulder, watching the hallways flicker passed through lidded eyes. He’s so tired. He hasn’t been able to sleep since he disappeared, and sleeping was so nice. So nice. They reach Brad’s floor and Knowa’s been lulled into something calm by Brad’s easy, rhythmic gait. His fingers are laced on Brad’s shoulder so that he doesn’t fall, legs crossed at Brad’s back, bare feet moving slightly as Brad does. “I’m tired,” he says softly, more of a comment to hear his own voice rather than alert Brad to it. He wants to sleep, desperately, but he also wants to spend time with Brad. Will coffee work? Probably not. Worth a shot. “But I missed you, so I don’t want to sleep. Or try to sleep. Okay?”

[b-raad]

belated christmas wishes from your favorite dirty santa. 

[b-raad]

[b-raad]

Cookies? || Closed

Brad must have been dreaming. He had to have been imagining the wafting smell of cookies filling the cold hallways. Even if it were a dream, he followed the smell all the way up to a familiar floor. He tried not to make a connection. Of course, it didn't work.

The smell was coming from Jon's old room. It was a sick joke. He knew Jon disappeared, lost somewhere in time like he'd heard happening lately. He was gone for however long, probably still hating Brad. Maybe he was happier out there, wherever. Maybe he had forgotten about Brad. That would make him happy.

He didn't mean to open the door, but he did and laid eyes on the platter of cookies sitting right in front of the door. They had to be Jon's. They were the perfect round shape like Jon's, filled with the perfect amount of square chocolate bricks, and the smallest dash of cinnamon.

Brad didn't try to look around the dead room. He took the platter back to his room.

He didn't eat any of the cookies. 

[b-raad]

[b-raad]

Brad chuckles and turned to start walking down the hall to the elevator. "Mine's not much better I can promise you that." He says, thinking about his room. It's been trashed and cleaned so many time it's almost ridiculous. Half of his couch cushions are missing, his table is on a slant, and his mattress smells like stale whiskey and vomit, which is why he sleeps on the couch. Somehow, he knows that Knowa won't mind that though.

When he asks to be put down, Brad shakes his head quickly. "Nope." he says and continues to walk down the hall, carrying Knowa like a toddler. He's always been light enough that it wouldn't bother him and brad wants to keep him very close for a while.

Reunited nd it feeeelz sew gud|| Knowa and Brad

Knowa takes a deep breath, like he’s breathing in the scent of Brad’s skin, memorising him - not like he already hadn’t, though. Brad asks if they should move out of the hallway and he nods, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Can we go to yours please?” he whispers, looking down at their chests, lashes fanned across his cheeks. He doesn’t feel comfortable being in his room, both because it once held Charlie, and secondly because it’s filthy. “Mine’s too dirty.” 

Surely, Brad’s isn’t much cleaner but it doesn’t have memories there. It doesn’t have memories of watching Charlie wake up, slow and sleepy, or the soft, warm, clothed kisses through Charlie’s mask. He rests his head on Brad’s shoulder for a few seconds, fingers playing idly with his friends hair, before he makes moves to try and get down from Brad’s arms. “You can let me go now,” he murmurs, loosening his legs. He likes being held by Brad, likes it a lot, but he feels guilty making Brad carry him to his apartment. “We can walk together?” Knowa decides that, when they walk, he will hold Brad’s hand, lace their fingers together. Let him know that he’s really not going to leave again to the best of his abilities.

[b-raad]

Brad sniffles and tried to nuzzle deeper into Knowa's neck. He doesn't blame his friend for not being here, definitely not for how his life has been since he was gone. He would have hated to have Knowa see him how he was, drugged 24/7, delirious, rude, unfaithful. He would have said rude things to Knowa, things he didn't mean, done horrible things. It was best Knowa wasn't there, he knew that, but he still wished he would have known he was still around. He would have found him earlier, had this sweet, sweet reunion weeks ago. 

Knowa's thin hands cupped Brad's face, and once he sees the tears building in his friend's eyes, he can't stop from tearing up himself. He shakes his head slightly at him. "It's ok now. It's all ok now that you're here." He pressed a small kiss to Knowa's nose before hugging him back to his chest again. "Do you want to go into your room? Or back to mine?" He asked, feeling a bit weird just standing in the hallways. 

Reunited nd it feeeelz sew gud|| Knowa and Brad

Brad is bony against him but Knowa knows he’s not much better. They both died thin, both destined to spend the rest of eternity thin. He’s sure he’ll get used to Brad’s prominent bones again, like he used to be; in all honesty it’s a wonder he’s not shying away from human contact. But, Knowa’s been alone for so long and Knowa needs people to thrive. This is like the first cigarette of the morning, the first glass of water after a day of running around doing errands. Brad is what he needs to flourish.

Brad’s kiss at his jaw makes him smile, a brush of the rough stubble that is practically trademarked by him. The question, however, makes him frown. He left Brad all alone. He knew Brad was all alone, and he didn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t bring himself to do it. “I’ve been around,” he whispers, “I’ve always been here.” He moves his face back from Brad’s, tightening his legs around skinny hips so that he can cup Brad’s cheeks with both of his long-fingered hands. “I”m sorry I left you,” he says, tears brewing along his waterlines. He feels so, so guilty. He brushes Brad’s hair away from his face and leans in close, resting his forehead against his friend’s, noses touching. “I’m so, so sorry. I won’t do it again.” That’s a promise, he tells himself. He will not leave Brad alone like that for as long as he walks this earth.

A tear spills down his cheek, cold and wet and he presses closer, bony chest to bony chest, arms around Brad’s neck again. “I’m here now,” he breathes. “I’m here now.”

[b-raad]

Cool name, Sera. Maybe I'll be seeing you around more often.

Little ol’ me? I’m Sera.

Lovely to meet you, Mister Brad

[b-raad]

Brad laughed with Knowa as he curled his limbs around him, clinging to him like a sloth (yes that was the first analogy to come to mind). He pressed his nose into Knowa's neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer to his body, mashing their bones together. Everything felt like it was okay in that moment. Like the past 6 or 7 months of his life hadn't been absolute torture, even more of a living hell than usual. He had his friend back and everything was alright. 

Knowa's kisses on his face were welcomed and appreciated. He felt his face heat up slightly, blushing at Knowa's words. "Ugh, fuck, Knowa man, I missed you so much I can't even put it into words. Where the fuck have you been?" He pressed a small kiss into his jaw, the only place he could reach with Knowa's lips still on his forehead. "Life's been such shit man...." He said quietly to him, closing his eyes and relaxing into his friend's neck. 

Reunited nd it feeeelz sew gud|| Knowa and Brad

Brad’s greeting is somewhere in the expected-and-unexpected reaction. He’d expected excitement, yes, but to be snatched from the ground like a tiny sparrow and all the air huffed out of him, that’s a different story. Not that he’s complaining. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around Brad’s neck, giggling huskily into his hair and squeezing his friend equally as tight, bringing his legs up around Brad’s waist and holding on like a bear cub. 

It feels right to be in Brad’s arms, in his company. To hear his voice. He regrets leaving, regrets it so much as he buries his face into Brad’s neck like a kitten greeting its counterpart. He feels a lump forming in his throat and makes a low, low noise to ease it away. He will not cry. He won’t allow it. He’s not been this happy in a long, long time and he won’t ruin it by being an overemotional girl. Victoria and Adrian chatter quietly in the back of his skull but he’s gained control now; he’s finally figured out how to keep them from getting out, from taking his body. They were as depressed as he was during the past summer months. “I missed you,” he says, and his voice still sounds foreign even to himself. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.” It becomes a chant as the tears build in his throat again, as he kisses across Brad’s face like a mother welcoming home a child who was gone for a very long time. He kisses Brad’s forehead, leaves his lips there, “I missed you so much.”

[b-raad]

Like a throat misses a knife, buddy. 

Did ya miss me?

[b-raad]

I don't think I caught your name, by the way?

well…that’s different…

[b-raad]

as long as it's about how sexy my drug addict sex god body is then it matters more than the air I breathe. 

I don’t know how much my opinion is worth…but I guess so.

[b-raad]

well! I'm still glad at least ONE person in here as good taste huh?

..hm. I can’t see why.

But that’s just me, I s’pose.

[b-raad]

no no no, just haven't been called attractive in a preeeetttyyy long time.

Too forward?

My most sincere apologies

[b-raad]

oh. wow. thanks dude, wow. 

Hello, Mr. Brad by the way.

you do have a nice face.

[b-raad]

I.. d-don't talk to people that o-often... M'trying t-to be more f-f-friendly though.... Ni-nice to meet you. 

th-that’s alright… m-me either…. i-it’s easier if y-you have a f-friend though….. I’m Sasha. 

[b-raad]

Brad is about to turn around when he thinks he hears the voice of his friend. Just my imagination, he thinks, a flashback form the drugs that's all. He shakes his head and rubs his forehead in distress. He hadn't realised just how much he missed Knowa until he had come up here and thought about how much he had cared for the man. He hated his brain for playing this trick on him. What he wouldn't give to see Knowa again right now.

There it was again, his voice calling to Brad, telling him he's here. This can't be my imagination, he thinks. The voice is rough and quiet but it's Knowa's for sure. Brad lifts his head and sure enough, his little friend is standing in the broken door way of his room, looking about as broken down and raw as Brad. He stares in disbelief for a second before his face breaks into an ear to ear grin. "Knowa what the fuCK!!!" He yells before literally picking the man up and hugging him as tight as he can with his weak muscles. 

Reunited nd it feeeelz sew gud|| Knowa and Brad

He hasn’t heard his name in eons, it feels. Not since Charlie left. When Charlie went away, Knowa’s world became void. He melted into the background and retreated to the eaves in the attic, where he spent the majority of his time sulking and brooding. 

He’s not sure why he came down to his old room today, of all days. It still hurts to be here. Still feels like Charlie is lingering in the walls. Everything is dusty as he meanders through the apartment, an invisible apparition. The only sign that he’s there is the soft marks his bare feet leave in the grime on the floorboards. But then, there it is. His name. A question. Words on a familiar voice, from a well-known mouth and perhaps one of his favourite people. Brad. He’s here. He slithers through a wall because he doesn’t have the will-power to walk slowly, calmly around the apartment to the front door - which is where he feels like Brad is, unless he’s already left. His stomach drops with the thought but as he crosses through another wall he sees him. Long, stringy hair, worn, tired face. The scruff around his chin. He smiles, flickers into something solid, and hopes that he doesn’t look as bad as he feels. “I’m here,” he says, and his voice is harsh from disuse and smoking whenever he finds a pack someone left carelessly on their dining table. He feels real again, alive almost. He’s not let himself be visible in months. “I’m here,” he says again, and this time it’s more to himself. He’s real. He’s Knowa. He exists.