#i have been at this bus stop for forty five minutes fuck my gay ass life

[phagodyke]

of course TWO of my stupid fucking buses in a row don't even show. typical 🙃

[urdearestmom]

Roller Skates & Good Boys

The boys go roller skating!

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355978

“Potter.”

A poke.

“What?”

“You know what they opened? Beside the Costco?”

“No, I don’t.”

“A place for skating!”

“This is the desert.”

“Not that kind of skating, durak. On wheels.”

“Roller skating?”

“Yes!”

“Boris, it’s the middle of the night.”

Boris frowns. “Why so stupid, Potter? I don’t mean now.”

He does not speak about it again until a week after. Is Friday evening and pair of them are stretched out on Theo’s bed, passing a joint back and forth. No one else is home, but is no different from usual. Boris thinks is great.

“Hey,” he says, turning over to face Theo.

Theo blows smoke at the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“I want to go to the skating place.”

Theo does not say anything for a moment. Then, “Why?”

“Why not?” Boris sits up. “I have never skated not in winter, and you know I hate winter. In Ukraine is horrible.”

“I’ve never roller skated,” Theo answers despondently.

Boris slaps him. “Then what you are waiting for? Tonight, we do it.”

He says it with an air of finality, the way he is sitting projecting change my mind.

“Alright,” Theo agrees. “When does it close?”

Boris waves a hand dismissively. “Does not matter, Potter. We are not paying, anyway.”

“Wow. What an upstanding citizen.”

“So today you are not being asshole, ok.”

Theo almost chokes with a garbled laugh. “Says you!”

Boris raises a fist in a mock threat. “Take that back, pizdobol!”

“Fuck you, Boris.”

The rink closes at eleven, Boris knows. He checked. By this time, both he and Theo are completely wasted and they have smoked at least two more joints, but it maybe was three. He decides that after midnight is the perfect time. Probably no one will be there, and if there is, so what? Who has fucks to give?

Theo is sleeping like a baby, on his side with Popchyk curled up under his arm. Boris almost does not want to wake him, but they are going to this place whether Theo likes it or not. Except Boris knows he has a soft spot for this boy and it is bad sometimes; like when Theo drinks too much and smokes too much and wants to jump off the roof or lie in the street or dry out in the sand and there is nothing Boris can do except stop him.

This is why Boris falls asleep too. He jolts awake in the middle of night, Theo shaking him. “Wake up, you fuck.” Popchyk lies between them, sniffing the air around Boris’ knee.

“What is it?”

Theo has a look in his eyes that says to Boris, I am going to do something crazy. Sometimes Boris likes that look, it sparks something in him that he does not know what is. Other times it scares him, because Theo gets that look right before he does something stupid crazy like jump off roof of his house into the pool.

“Aren’t we going to the roller rink? I don’t want to be in this house right now,” Theo says, already getting off his bed. He is putting on pants and Boris is staring. He does not want Theo to see him looking, so he looks at clock instead.

2:43, it says. “Potter, is middle of the night. We can go another day, come sleep,” Boris answers, patting the warm empty space beside him.

Theo glares. “You said we were going, so now we’re going.” He walks out of the room and Boris scrambles to follow.

The CAT bus does not run so late, so Boris and Theo are walking. The desert is cool at night, but never cold. Is good, because Boris hates cold but also the sun.Theo pulls out a cigarette and lights it, inhaling before offering. Boris refuses, pulling out of his own pocket a small flask.

“What’s in that?” Asks Theo.

Boris grins. “What do you think?”

“Vodka?”

Still grinning, Boris taps Theo’s forehead. “Smart boy, Potter.”

Theo smacks his hand away and rolls his eyes.

Forty-five minutes later they are still walking, but is not far now. Boris has a thought.

“Potter, I am thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Past’ zabej! I was only going to ask if you ever think about fact that milk is really tit juice.”

Theo turns slowly to look at Boris, who is staring directly at him.

“Well?” He asks. Waiting is not a strong suit of his, especially not when is such an obvious question as this.

“What the motherfuck, Boris?”

Boris throws his hands up. “Is true! Come on, only have to think a little to see.”

Theo just shakes his head and keeps walking. There are times when Boris wonders what does Theo think of him. Is he just other boy? Is he brother? Is he friend? Is he more? Some nights, he thinks is more. He does not say, because he knows Theo is afraid. He can feel it. Other times he wonders what does he think of Theo. Nights when they are not together, when he is alone in his house or with Kotku, Boris feels strange. Almost like he does not know who he is. Kotku is fun, what he does with her is fun, but he knows is not forever. He does not get lost in the time with her like he does when he is with Theo. He is not sure what it means, but he thinks he might know.

Is complicated.

They are standing in front of the skating place, looking at it. Door is locked, Boris can see from here. Theo spits on the ground and sticks his hands in his pockets. “So what now?”

Boris spreads his hands. “Is time to break in, my friend.”

Soon they are inside. Boris knows how to pick locks, so always he has something to do it with. Is dark, but such is expected. Place is closed, after all. Theo turns on a light and points to some strange looking things inside holes in the wall. Cubbies? Is that what they are called? Theo takes out a pair and throws them at Boris, barely missing his face. They land on his feet and it hurts.

“Govno! What the fuck?”

“Do those fit your feet?”

“You scare me, Potter.”

They do. How Theo knows what size shoe Boris wears, Boris does not know. But he does not care. Is not important. He takes a last drink from his flask and gives the rest to Theo. They have to be good and wasted, since some of the alcohol from earlier went away when they slept. Now Boris looks at the rink itself, thinking how he is going to get himself on it. He is standing there staring when Theo falls past him right onto the floor.

Theo starts to giggle and Boris laughs with him until they both cannot breathe from so hard laughing. Theo looks up at Boris and smiles. “You were right,” he says. “Boris, you were right!”

“I am always right, Potter.”

“But milk really is just tit juice!” And he laughs again.

Is a whole entire minute before Theo stops laughing and turns over to get up, grabbing the railing of the rink to pull himself. He is a little wobbly when he stands and Boris thinks he looks like a bambi. But bambis are cute, so it is ok. Zamovkny, Borya!

Theo starts to roll away and Boris does not want him to go alone, so he follows. He is also a little wobbly, but he thinks he is not so bad. He is not as wasted as Theo, he knows he handles alcohol better, but still he knows he is drunk. Such is the life of an alcoholic son of two alcoholics.

“You’re going to fall, Potter!” He calls to the boy ahead.

“Fuck you!” He hears back. It makes him smile, and then laugh because Theo falls again on his ass right after. Boris stops laughing soon because he cannot stop rolling forward and Theo cannot get off the ground, so Boris falls on top of him.

“Maybe we should go together,” he suggests with a dark laugh.

Theo shoves him off. “That’s gay, Boris,” he huffs, struggling to get back to his feet.

“So what!” Boris exclaims, all suddenly angry. All he wants is for Theo not to hurt himself! “There is no one here to give a fuck.”

“I give a fuck,” Theo says, and he skates away. Is all of three seconds before he falls again, leaving Boris on the floor behind him roaring with laughter.

“Comrade has fallen!” He yells, staring at a crack in the ceiling. Why there is already a crack in the ceiling if this place is new, he asks himself. It is one of those things about America that he thinks he might never understand. It is everywhere, the crack. In their brains. In their government. In their society. Why is everything ok if America does it? There is no explanation. Boris thinks he will never have an answer.

He sits up and watches Theo until he gets all the way around back to where Boris is and stops. Theo glares. “Are you going to skate or not? You’re the one who wanted to come here.”

Boris looks up, squinting. “I have decided is not for me.”

“You made me walk all the way out here and now you don’t want to skate.”

“Me? I told you to come sleep! But you are all, no, Boris, we go now! And you leave, and here we are.”

Theo sits down, heavy. “I’m tired,” he says. His voice sounds small, but is slurred. “Can we go home?”

Boris throws an arm around him, pulling him close. “Potter, we have only been here for ten minutes.”

“Does it look like I give a fuck?”

Instead, Boris gets up and brings Theo with him. “Come, we are going together and then we can go home.”

Takes them five minutes because they fall over each other maybe seven times and they skate slow and shaky, but finally they are done. Boris feels warm when he looks at Theo. He is smiling a little bit, maybe he forgot that he is still holding Boris’ hand but Boris is not going to remind him.

They have an hour of walking ahead and dragging a drunk Theo through the desert is hard, but Boris has done it before and he will do it again, no doubt. He thinks he would do anything for the boy under his arm, maybe even kill a man. If there is one thing Boris wants to do in his life, it is keep Theo safe and happy.

Boris thinks Theo is like a lamp, one like in that movie Aladdin but without the magic blue man inside. Boris polishes all the time, trying to keep it clean, but sometimes it gets dark and there is nothing he is able to do but polish harder and hope for best situation. He is scared that one day he will wake up and the lamp will be black, because then he will never be able to see himself again.

Popchyk is still on Theo’s bed when they get back, jumping off excitedly when he sees them. “Good boy staying here, Snaps,” Boris says as he dumps nearly unconscious Theo on the mattress. “You are very good boy, Popchyk.”

Popchyk nuzzles into Boris’ hand before he goes back to Theo. Boris looks at them for a moment before he gets into bed too. “Good night, Pops.”

He holds his breath for another moment. “Good night, Potter.” He turns over.