Tis the season. Whoever said that he didn't like the holidays? Fucktards that didn't know what they were talking about, that's who. While it may be unclear what part of the season he was tapping into, his appearance had that unnerving, impeccable quality. He looked like he was auditioning for the part of Jack Frost. His suit was a painful silver blue, his button up white with the collar splayed open on his blazer. His shoes were a dim grey, one side having what looked to be a recent scuff mark. Sometimes it was better to just not ask questions.
First, he was a little pissed off, but that wasn't because he was going to see Dirk. It was because he had wrapped (correction: had someone else wrap) the gift that he brought. Naturally, the prison had an interest in keeping out the contraband that they weren't sufficiently bribed to overlook. The guard just wasn?t comfortable overlooking things Amare brought in. It had something to do with the way he smiled with all of his teeth when he asked. Since he couldn?t be paid off, the immaculate wrapping job of the four inch by four inch box was wrecked. That accounted for his mood. It was clear he had tried to recover the wrapping job but there were tear marks and weak traces of paper on the flaps of tape to give away what had been done.
Secondly, he could put aside that feeling of annoyance now that he saw Dirk. "For fuck's sake! Finally!" A beautiful razor wire smile cut his face in two.
Dirk had kept his secret for the few days that it'd been since the hearing. He had walked past the bank of pay phones a dozen or so times in those days and each time the temptation to call and spills the beans was stronger and stronger. He could even feel the phone in his hand and the rough butttons under his index finger, as if he were making that call. But, he'd held out. Dirk had resisted temptation. It was never easy for Dirk to do that, but the image of Amare's reaction was so firmly planted in his head that there was no way he was going to risk missing that.
While Amare was decked out as if he were Mr. Dick Clark at the Rockin' New Year's Eve party, Dirk was still in his prison beige, with a name tag dangling from his collar. It didn't matter what Amare wore. Every time he came to visit, Dirk thought he looked more amazing than the last. He raised his hand, as if to shield his eyes from the brilliant light that shone off of his lover.
"Damn baby!" he laughed and let his arm fall to Amare's shoulder as he stepped in to wrap his arms around Amare for an embrace and a kiss that lasted the entirety of the two minutes allowed. He pulled his head back first, and that smile grew as they disengaged. "Got a hot date or something?" he teased as he sat down at the table.
It always seemed like a contradiction, the fact that he was dressed up. Like the world just couldn't process who or what he was. Amare was a fire, he burned to infinity and likely would not last forever. Perhaps that was why people loved him like they did, some part of them recognized that no one of his ilk lived forever and retained that vitality. It was the calmer ones, the smoother and easier ones like Dirk that lingered longer and survived the reality of just being alive.
"It's fucking Christmas time, what do you expect?" One hand jumped up to the button closest to his throat as if to adjust his invisible tie. They connected and it was always like a weird dream. It was that space in time where he could connect to someone else and still... not. Not really. Not in the way he totally liked, but it was the best he ever got so he took advantage of the seconds.
"This is my hot date, asshole." He took a seat and the nudged the rewrapped box towards him, "Merry Christmas, or whatever." It was scarcely near the holiday but not at all surprising that he couldn't wait.
Dirk couldn't help it. Even if he didn't have great news to share with Amare, his smile would still be from ear to ear. To the world, Amare's gruffness might be labeled as rude or douche baggery. But to Dirk, every word uttered was code for I love you. I miss you. Hurry up and get home because I need you. And that, alone, could make Dirk smile for days.
The gift was looked at and as much as he wanted to tear it open, all he could do was stare at the mangled paper with tiny holes that revealed the box under the crinkled paper. It was almost comical. Amare was always dressed to the nines and looked like he'd been spit polished; and the gift looked ragged and as if it might have been drop kicked a few times. Dirk's shoulders shook just once as he huffed a silent laugh, then he pushed the box back towards Amare. "I can't accept this right now, baby."
"Yes, you can't cause those fuckers gave it the once over." He shot a look over his shoulder to the guard, who realistically was out of ear shot and may not have been paying attention. That was only partly true. Amare was the sort of person who guards really, really liked to focus on. It made their jobs feel complete. It was that same sense of "ah" that Batman must have felt when he finally had a super villain to contend with.
"So," he put two fingers to the box, making a slow, calculated push of it back towards Dirk, "Yes you can."
When Amare glanced over at the guard, Dirk leaned back and slouched just a little. His gaze swept towards the guard for a moment, and then back to the table where the gift was being pushed across the table. This made him smile even more. His cheeks were going to ache by the time Amare left.
"You can give it to me on Christmas," he countered and put his own index finger onto the box to stop the momentum and attempt to push it back towards Amare.
"That's fucking lame. Christmas in prison is like having sex at a funeral. Pass." The box was getting a lot of back and forth, now. It tick-tocked between them as each had a perfectly reasonable response. Beyond that, Amare was always stubborn as Hell. Too stubborn to have read anymore into what Dirk said as being significant beyond saying that he needed to visit again for the holidays. Screw that noise. He wasn't going to be bawling over a crappy prison table. He'd visit, sure, but he was fucking boycotting whatever it was people thought the holiday was gonna be.
"You're right," he agreed with a gentle push of his index finger against crinkled paper. "Christmas in prison would be fucking absolutely horrible. Just. Horrible." He removed his finger from the box and folded his arms over his chest. Dirk then leaned back in his seat and considered Amare's stubborn countenance and he grinned again.
He was truly enjoying drawing out Amare's temper a bit, and knew that by smiling it would light the match. It would be worth it, though. He knew something Amare didn't, something he thought Amare would love to hear. Just a moment longer, be patient and I'll tell you.
"So? You gonna open it or not?" There was a look at the box and then back at Dirk. This was a bit unusual. Normally when he visited Dirk would be a little more upset at the prospect of not being visited. Or upset because their visit was short and he hated anytime they had to tell each other goodbye. Like maybe it would be the last time or whatever. But that wasn't what was happening now. Dirk was grinning like there wasn't a problem in the world, like something was up.
"What the fuck is it?" He checked over his shoulder and then looked back to Dirk. His blue eyes were positively piercing, the light blue suit did a lot to make them look clear and hard.
First, he was a little pissed off, but that wasn't because he was going to see Dirk. It was because he had wrapped (correction: had someone else wrap) the gift that he brought. Naturally, the prison had an interest in keeping out the contraband that they weren't sufficiently bribed to overlook. The guard just wasn?t comfortable overlooking things Amare brought in. It had something to do with the way he smiled with all of his teeth when he asked. Since he couldn?t be paid off, the immaculate wrapping job of the four inch by four inch box was wrecked. That accounted for his mood. It was clear he had tried to recover the wrapping job but there were tear marks and weak traces of paper on the flaps of tape to give away what had been done.
Secondly, he could put aside that feeling of annoyance now that he saw Dirk. "For fuck's sake! Finally!" A beautiful razor wire smile cut his face in two.
Dirk had kept his secret for the few days that it'd been since the hearing. He had walked past the bank of pay phones a dozen or so times in those days and each time the temptation to call and spills the beans was stronger and stronger. He could even feel the phone in his hand and the rough butttons under his index finger, as if he were making that call. But, he'd held out. Dirk had resisted temptation. It was never easy for Dirk to do that, but the image of Amare's reaction was so firmly planted in his head that there was no way he was going to risk missing that.
While Amare was decked out as if he were Mr. Dick Clark at the Rockin' New Year's Eve party, Dirk was still in his prison beige, with a name tag dangling from his collar. It didn't matter what Amare wore. Every time he came to visit, Dirk thought he looked more amazing than the last. He raised his hand, as if to shield his eyes from the brilliant light that shone off of his lover.
"Damn baby!" he laughed and let his arm fall to Amare's shoulder as he stepped in to wrap his arms around Amare for an embrace and a kiss that lasted the entirety of the two minutes allowed. He pulled his head back first, and that smile grew as they disengaged. "Got a hot date or something?" he teased as he sat down at the table.
It always seemed like a contradiction, the fact that he was dressed up. Like the world just couldn't process who or what he was. Amare was a fire, he burned to infinity and likely would not last forever. Perhaps that was why people loved him like they did, some part of them recognized that no one of his ilk lived forever and retained that vitality. It was the calmer ones, the smoother and easier ones like Dirk that lingered longer and survived the reality of just being alive.
"It's fucking Christmas time, what do you expect?" One hand jumped up to the button closest to his throat as if to adjust his invisible tie. They connected and it was always like a weird dream. It was that space in time where he could connect to someone else and still... not. Not really. Not in the way he totally liked, but it was the best he ever got so he took advantage of the seconds.
"This is my hot date, asshole." He took a seat and the nudged the rewrapped box towards him, "Merry Christmas, or whatever." It was scarcely near the holiday but not at all surprising that he couldn't wait.
Dirk couldn't help it. Even if he didn't have great news to share with Amare, his smile would still be from ear to ear. To the world, Amare's gruffness might be labeled as rude or douche baggery. But to Dirk, every word uttered was code for I love you. I miss you. Hurry up and get home because I need you. And that, alone, could make Dirk smile for days.
The gift was looked at and as much as he wanted to tear it open, all he could do was stare at the mangled paper with tiny holes that revealed the box under the crinkled paper. It was almost comical. Amare was always dressed to the nines and looked like he'd been spit polished; and the gift looked ragged and as if it might have been drop kicked a few times. Dirk's shoulders shook just once as he huffed a silent laugh, then he pushed the box back towards Amare. "I can't accept this right now, baby."
"Yes, you can't cause those fuckers gave it the once over." He shot a look over his shoulder to the guard, who realistically was out of ear shot and may not have been paying attention. That was only partly true. Amare was the sort of person who guards really, really liked to focus on. It made their jobs feel complete. It was that same sense of "ah" that Batman must have felt when he finally had a super villain to contend with.
"So," he put two fingers to the box, making a slow, calculated push of it back towards Dirk, "Yes you can."
When Amare glanced over at the guard, Dirk leaned back and slouched just a little. His gaze swept towards the guard for a moment, and then back to the table where the gift was being pushed across the table. This made him smile even more. His cheeks were going to ache by the time Amare left.
"You can give it to me on Christmas," he countered and put his own index finger onto the box to stop the momentum and attempt to push it back towards Amare.
"That's fucking lame. Christmas in prison is like having sex at a funeral. Pass." The box was getting a lot of back and forth, now. It tick-tocked between them as each had a perfectly reasonable response. Beyond that, Amare was always stubborn as Hell. Too stubborn to have read anymore into what Dirk said as being significant beyond saying that he needed to visit again for the holidays. Screw that noise. He wasn't going to be bawling over a crappy prison table. He'd visit, sure, but he was fucking boycotting whatever it was people thought the holiday was gonna be.
"You're right," he agreed with a gentle push of his index finger against crinkled paper. "Christmas in prison would be fucking absolutely horrible. Just. Horrible." He removed his finger from the box and folded his arms over his chest. Dirk then leaned back in his seat and considered Amare's stubborn countenance and he grinned again.
He was truly enjoying drawing out Amare's temper a bit, and knew that by smiling it would light the match. It would be worth it, though. He knew something Amare didn't, something he thought Amare would love to hear. Just a moment longer, be patient and I'll tell you.
"So? You gonna open it or not?" There was a look at the box and then back at Dirk. This was a bit unusual. Normally when he visited Dirk would be a little more upset at the prospect of not being visited. Or upset because their visit was short and he hated anytime they had to tell each other goodbye. Like maybe it would be the last time or whatever. But that wasn't what was happening now. Dirk was grinning like there wasn't a problem in the world, like something was up.
"What the fuck is it?" He checked over his shoulder and then looked back to Dirk. His blue eyes were positively piercing, the light blue suit did a lot to make them look clear and hard.