orgasm.
They just laid there for a bit, until their breathing went back to normal. Then Sonny let go of him, fingers sliding away, surprisingly gentle. "Hey."
"Hey." MJ blinked, blinked again. "Morning."
He'd lost his mind.
Sonny blinked back, dark eyes sort of stunned. The man had the heaviest morning whiskers MJ had ever seen. "Want breakfast?"
"Yeah." He was starving. Starving. Pancakes. Sausage. Bacon.
Oh, man. Bacon.
His stomach started trying to claw its way out again. Stupid thing.
"Growly." Sonny's eyes started to twinkle. "All we have is bananas. If you promise to stay put I'll run down to the corner store place and get us some shit."
He snorted. "You won't run anywhere on that ankle. Didn't you get a car to use?"
"Yeah, but you try to drive on these streets. I just used it to get us here from the airport, which was...well. So, does that mean you're buying?"
"Yeah. You lost all that cash from the exploding meth lab, after all." He fought the chuckle. He was easily fucking amused.
"If I didn't feel so fucking good I would thump the hell out of you." Sonny stretched, moaned as something popped audibly. "Oh, yeah."
"It's a stone-cold bitch, getting old." He needed a swim, maybe. Nice dip in the water, get his brain back online.
"You think? I'll let you know when I catch up to you there, Precious." The guy just never let up.
MJ watched Sonny roll to the edge of the bed and test his ankle, a line appearing on either side of Sonny's mouth.
"Be easy on it for fuck's sake. You're not eighteen." He shook his head, slid over. "I'm going to go for a swim. You want the john or the couch?"
He got a laugh, half a bark, really. "The john. There's some cash in the same bag my clothes were in. Really, go swim and then get us some grub?"
"Yeah. I'll figure it out. Where's the car keys?" He helped Sonny move, that ankle less swollen than yesterday, for sure. Christ. He was insane. Sonny was infectious. Pretty soon he was going to start watching NASCAR and spitting.
He got a look, then a shrug. "In the very front pocket of the black tool case. Your knife is in there, too."
"Yeah? You got it on the plane?" He grinned. Man, he loved that blade. "Cool. I'll go find groceries."
Lots of groceries.
He was fucking starving.
"I did. I'm good that way." Sonny grinned back, bouncing a little. "If you can find Twinkies get me some, will you? I'm craving."
"Can you buy Twinkies here?" Oh, dude. Ho-Hos. Chocolate. Cream filling. Chocolate. Hell, yeah.
"Well, there ought to be a small section of shit like that. There always is in Mexico. London, too." Grinning, Sonny hopped the rest of the way to the john with him. "Don't be long. I might get stuck."
MJ chuckled. "Don't fall, Sunshine. I'm out of morphine."
He just shook his head at himself. The logical move was to get the car and get the hell out. He couldn't just leave the guy hurting, though. Asshole.
"I'll be okay. You just bring me something sweet for breakfast and I'll make some coffee that will eat your spoon."
The bathroom door shut in his face, Sonny's chuckle coming through to him.
Because that always sounded so appetizing. Here. Drink something caustic. Yummy.
MJ rolled his eyes and went to get the car keys.
Insane. Utterly insane.
Really.
***
Sonny clumped around, trying to get a few things done, like putting a plastic baggy on his ankle so he could bathe. He looked for the rest of the pots and pans in their little, rented kitchenette. Then he ended up out on the porch, in the hammock, foot up, giving him some relief from the damned throbbing. Maybe he could just chop it off.
Then MJ would really think he was nuts.
Scratching said nuts was getting to be a habit. Man, he should go on vacation more often.
"Dude, you got jock itch too? You're falling apart." MJ came sashaying around the corner, chocolate on his lips, hands full of bags and shit.
"Nope. Just a simple urge to do what feels good. And since I can't cut my foot off at the ankle, I'm gonna
They just laid there for a bit, until their breathing went back to normal. Then Sonny let go of him, fingers sliding away, surprisingly gentle. "Hey."
"Hey." MJ blinked, blinked again. "Morning."
He'd lost his mind.
Sonny blinked back, dark eyes sort of stunned. The man had the heaviest morning whiskers MJ had ever seen. "Want breakfast?"
"Yeah." He was starving. Starving. Pancakes. Sausage. Bacon.
Oh, man. Bacon.
His stomach started trying to claw its way out again. Stupid thing.
"Growly." Sonny's eyes started to twinkle. "All we have is bananas. If you promise to stay put I'll run down to the corner store place and get us some shit."
He snorted. "You won't run anywhere on that ankle. Didn't you get a car to use?"
"Yeah, but you try to drive on these streets. I just used it to get us here from the airport, which was...well. So, does that mean you're buying?"
"Yeah. You lost all that cash from the exploding meth lab, after all." He fought the chuckle. He was easily fucking amused.
"If I didn't feel so fucking good I would thump the hell out of you." Sonny stretched, moaned as something popped audibly. "Oh, yeah."
"It's a stone-cold bitch, getting old." He needed a swim, maybe. Nice dip in the water, get his brain back online.
"You think? I'll let you know when I catch up to you there, Precious." The guy just never let up.
MJ watched Sonny roll to the edge of the bed and test his ankle, a line appearing on either side of Sonny's mouth.
"Be easy on it for fuck's sake. You're not eighteen." He shook his head, slid over. "I'm going to go for a swim. You want the john or the couch?"
He got a laugh, half a bark, really. "The john. There's some cash in the same bag my clothes were in. Really, go swim and then get us some grub?"
"Yeah. I'll figure it out. Where's the car keys?" He helped Sonny move, that ankle less swollen than yesterday, for sure. Christ. He was insane. Sonny was infectious. Pretty soon he was going to start watching NASCAR and spitting.
He got a look, then a shrug. "In the very front pocket of the black tool case. Your knife is in there, too."
"Yeah? You got it on the plane?" He grinned. Man, he loved that blade. "Cool. I'll go find groceries."
Lots of groceries.
He was fucking starving.
"I did. I'm good that way." Sonny grinned back, bouncing a little. "If you can find Twinkies get me some, will you? I'm craving."
"Can you buy Twinkies here?" Oh, dude. Ho-Hos. Chocolate. Cream filling. Chocolate. Hell, yeah.
"Well, there ought to be a small section of shit like that. There always is in Mexico. London, too." Grinning, Sonny hopped the rest of the way to the john with him. "Don't be long. I might get stuck."
MJ chuckled. "Don't fall, Sunshine. I'm out of morphine."
He just shook his head at himself. The logical move was to get the car and get the hell out. He couldn't just leave the guy hurting, though. Asshole.
"I'll be okay. You just bring me something sweet for breakfast and I'll make some coffee that will eat your spoon."
The bathroom door shut in his face, Sonny's chuckle coming through to him.
Because that always sounded so appetizing. Here. Drink something caustic. Yummy.
MJ rolled his eyes and went to get the car keys.
Insane. Utterly insane.
Really.
***
Sonny clumped around, trying to get a few things done, like putting a plastic baggy on his ankle so he could bathe. He looked for the rest of the pots and pans in their little, rented kitchenette. Then he ended up out on the porch, in the hammock, foot up, giving him some relief from the damned throbbing. Maybe he could just chop it off.
Then MJ would really think he was nuts.
Scratching said nuts was getting to be a habit. Man, he should go on vacation more often.
"Dude, you got jock itch too? You're falling apart." MJ came sashaying around the corner, chocolate on his lips, hands full of bags and shit.
"Nope. Just a simple urge to do what feels good. And since I can't cut my foot off at the ankle, I'm gonna
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