Who inherits Greenwood though?

[Kwak Jung Su]

Shit.

He couldn't stop smiling.

Jung Su actually stopped by the side of the road, with the bus in sight, and took a couple minutes to calm the fuck down. Wipe the grin off his face. Stop it. His cheeks hurt a little. Fucking stop it.

It was only. Three words.

Most of it was relief, if he had to be honest. (Jung Su was more sentimental than most people took him to be.) After tearing around town trying to find Devlin, finally somebody put him on the right track—that Nahuel guy—and he was able to get his ass out to where the bus had stopped without wiping out. He had a few close calls but since everyone was driving so cautiously, he was able to swerve on his more agile bike. (His baby, by the way, which he never let anyone else touch.)

And now he was here, looking at the glowing red tail lights of the big bus that took people out of town. Once he got himself under control, he rode up to it and then slid off his bike. Jung Su pulled off his helmet before going up to the door and knocking hard on it. The driver seemed shocked to see him but opened the door after a momentary pause. With a whoosh and a clank, the doors yielded for him and he strode up the narrow steps.

"Looking for somebody," he said to the driver, who looked expectantly at him like he was waiting for Jung Su to pay. Ignoring him, Jung Su marched up to the one familiar face there and stood over him, glaring at his creepy ass pedo 'new friend.' "C'mon Dev, let's go home." He put out a hand and laid it on Devlin's shoulder. "And you stay the fuck away from my little brother from now on, you fucking creep."

There was a lot of shit he wanted to say and do. Like apologize. Like punch that asshole trying to lure Devlin out to some seedy club in Washington. Like grab Devlin and hug him tight and never, ever let go. But he wasn't gonna get all mushy with all those people looking at him, the random intruder who just barged onto the bus.

But he was still pretty damn pissed that some rapist-to-be nearly got his filthy hands on his little bro so maybe that punch wasn't out of the question just yet.

Devlin Quayle

[Devlin Quayle]

"H-hey! He's not a creep."

Devlin slid out of his bus seat and looked back at Mark with an apologetic expression. What did he do to deserve any of that crap Jung Su was spewing at him, anyway? Nothing. Jung Su just always got weird as fuck about things when it came to Devlin and other people. Like he didn't trust Devlin to know what he was doing. Like he wasn't an adult. It was true that Devlin suffered from a severe injury to the head as a child but there was no real way of knowing how much of Devlin's peculiarities were caused by that since he'd been so young. But it didn't make him stupid. Mark wasn't a creep. He was nice, soft-spoken man who liked music.

Shrugging Jung Su's hand off his shoulder, Devlin edged out of the bus after another apology to Mark. At least he gave him his number before he was so unceremoniously dragged off by Jung Su. If he tried to give it to him with Jung Su present, he would probably rip it up before Mark could touch it. Waving slightly to Mark, Devlin turned away and left the bus behind, stepping onto the asphalt. The fog was thicker than he had seen it in a long time. His gaze found Jung Su's bike. No other transportation. Jung Su didn't let just anybody touch that thing. Devlin turned toward Jung Su in question.

[Kwak Jung Su]

Fucking creep. What kind of asshole took a look at Devlin and decided—hey, this kid needed to go live it up at a club? With all the noise and flashing lights and music and masses of people hemming in on all sides, Jung Su knew that Devlin would get totally overwhelmed. If talking to strangers made him close up like a clam, he hated to imagine what an environment like that would do to him!

He knew his own little brother better than some scumbag with tattoos all over him. Whatever the creep said, Jung Su didn't even bother listening to. He watched Devlin hopping off the bus—defiant to the last with his own brother, but let him talk like that to a stranger one time! Well, that just went to show that Devlin was comfortable with him, he supposed...

Jung Su wasted no time following him outside, and the bus doors clanked closed behind him. "What're you waiting for?" He asked as Devlin shot him a quizzical glance. Like he thought Jung Su was gonna make him walk home? Lightly smacking the back of Devlin's head in passing—affectionately—he slipped onto his bike and put on his helmet. "Get on, c'mon. It's freezing out here." Jung Su handed him the spare helmet.

[Devlin Quayle]

"...wh..."

The question softly vanished into nothing. There was no point in asking. Jung Su already made up his mind and he was way more stubborn than Devlin ever was. Devlin had his moments but really, he wasn't usually all that stubborn about things. Point: the fact that he got off the bus and was currently putting on a helmet to go back home with Jung Su. It had been most of the day that he lasted and here he was, still going back.

As he buckled the helmet into place, Devlin looked up at the bus full of people. A couple of others had left, too. Most of them decided to stay on board, though and continue their drive to Portland whenever the thick fog burned off.

"...yeah," he said finally. It was cold and he wasn't wearing anything other than a t-shirt under a light jacket and a pair of torn up jeans. Not exactly cold-weather clothes. After a moment of looking around in hesitation, Devlin climbed onto the bike.

[Kwak Jung Su]

Good. Devlin was being reasonable now, and Jung Su knew that it was harder to stand there arguing in the cold. The thick fog made everything feel clammy too, which didn't help matters. After a moment, Devlin slid onto the bike and Jung Su revved up the engine to warm it slightly before they took off.

"Hold on tight." He reached behind and lightly patted Devlin on top of the head—well, helmet. With those things on it was hard to hear one another talk, so he couldn't say the mushy ass stuff that came to mind. Probably better this way, right? Even if he did say anything stupid, Devlin might not hear him properly. Jung Su sighed and the puff of breath momentarily fogged up the inside of his helmet. What a night.

Before Devlin had a chance to leap off (in case he changed his mind) Jung Su tore off down the highway. Luckily he was in front to block some of the wind from slicing into Devlin, but it probably didn't help much given how fast he drove. He drove recklessly, like he had nothing to lose, ducking between cars and weaving in and out of any sparse traffic they came across. That was just how Jung Su lived: loose and free. Their mom scolded him until she was blue in the face about tearing around town like a demon but he couldn't not go fast on a bike. The point of a bike was to go fast!

He was forced to slow as they entered into the town proper, though. Traffic lights were the bane of his existence and at a red light he reached down and curled a hand around Devlin's, threading his fingers through Devlin's. Jung Su half-turned his head but the helmet was too restrictive so he settled for squeezing Devlin's hand instead, before the green light came on and he had to let go to steer the bike.

[Devlin Quayle]

Like he was going to NOT hold on tightly. Devlin bit his lip as the bike set off. Given the thing was Jung Su's baby, Devlin didn't usually have a chance to ride on it. Something about brothers and their dirty fingerprints or whatever. Not that Devlin was still the kid that left fingerprints on everything but when it came to people who had been in his life the longest, it felt like some things would never change.

His hands were sweating, though. The speed was too much for him and he squeezed his eyes closed as the bike went faster and faster. Jung Su always seemed to ride like a literal bat out of hell. Watching it was bad enough. Being a part of it.... He felt like he was going to fly off and break his neck.

Huh?

Looking down, he saw that Jung Su had taken his hand at a stop light. Well. If Dev wanted to prove he was somehow a manly man capable of not being afraid of things, he failed. Anybody could tell by holding his hand that he'd been sweating the ride out.

And then the brief moment was over and the bike was off again. At least now that they were in the town proper, he wasn't speeding like a demonic possessed thing.

[Kwak Jung Su]

Heh. Devlin. Jung Su grinned into his helmet as they made their way through town and back to Greenwood, now at a normal speed and obeying most of the traffic laws. He might have blown past a stop sign near the apartment, but there were no cops around to catch him--so it didn't happen. The bike came to a gentle rolling stop in front of that old familiar building and Jung Su cut the engine.

He sat for a long moment staring at the console of his bike, then sighed and pulled off his helmet. "Let's get inside before you catch something," he said much more gently to Devlin as he turned to him, to help him with his helmet. That fast ride back to town sort of took the edge off of those raw emotions from earlier. Plus he couldn't deny that Devlin really did give him a scare, running off like that.

After the helmet came off, Jung Su ran his fingers through Devlin's hair to neaten it. Yeah, that was the only reason he did that. Sure. "You okay?"

[Devlin Quayle]

Once they were home, Devlin didn't really know what to do with himself. Climbed off the bike. Stood there and flinched before Jung Su's hand only ran through his tangle of hair. It wasn't as if Jung Su was in the habit of smacking him around, either. Devlin was still hyper-sensitive from the fight. Argument. Whatever it was that happened between them. A rift that felt miles wide.

"...yeah."

What else could he say? He twitched slightly, moving away from Jung Su as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the apartment building, toward their home.

There was still a sense of dread that his things were going to be out of place, stolen, not where he left them. Devlin was very particular because of all the things he didn't have growing up. All the things that weren't his, all the things that weren't in their rightful places. So when his little hoard was threatened... he might have lost his mind a little. He bit his nails as he walked up to the door, then stopped to push his bag around so he could search for his keys.

When the door was unlocked, he entered and stopped to pull off his boots at the door, per their mother's orders. His toes curled in, like all of him tended to when they were vulnerable. He didn't even look at Jung Su before he headed for his room, heart in his throat, like he was going to find a dead body inside.

[Kwak Jung Su]

Twitch.

Jung Su sighed and followed him inside, glad for the warmth of the apartments. He had keys on him but watched Devlin rummaging around in that bag of his, hearing the sounds of things clinking and bumping around in there. Emergency stash in there, for... emergencies. Or for running away from home. The hoarding was an issue but not one that he or their mom wanted to address at the moment.

Devlin just shut down any time it was brought up and they both hated to distress him. It was real bad, too; they learned not to bring it up around him, although between them they'd had many discussions. Things were piling up and getting out of hand. It wasn't healthy for Devlin, either, to be surrounded by all of that stuff that he wouldn't use in a hundred years.

But for the moment, not wanting to agitate him any further, Jung Su kept his trap shut. He toed off his shoes too, because their mom could spot a speck of dirt a hundred feet away, and tossed his own jacket and wallet and keys onto the couch carelessly. "Where--" He started to ask where Devlin was going but he was making a beeline for his bedroom. Jung Su followed at a more leisurely pace and leaned against the door jamb watching him.

"Everything's there," he said softly, no longer having to pretend to be some tough guy who didn't give two shits about anybody. That wasn't really him--had never been him. He did care. He cared too much for certain people--not things but people.

[Devlin Quayle]

Everything really did seem to be in place. Jung Su's cruel joke seemed to be just that--a joke. Devlin stopped checking everything over obsessively and he stood near the window, his fingers twirling the blind wand. HIs shoulder briefly twitched. Eyes. He didn't like what happened today but he was shit at expressing himself accurately.

Nobody really understood his hoarding tendencies, least of all Devlin himself. He just knew he had nothing of his own as a child and that translated to this frantic need to keep everything. Everything, even something as useless as a burrito wrapper from the time he and Jung Su went out and had burritos together. To him, it wasn't garbage. It was the memory of a night that wasn't pure chaos. A rare relaxed night out.

But he knew to mom and Jung Su, it all looked like garbage.

Devlin let go of the blind wand and edged over to his bed, dropping his ass down heavily onto it. His curled toes slid beneath the bed.

"Why did you lie?"

[Kwak Jung Su]

"You're gonna have to be a helluva lot more specific than that, Dev," Jung Su sighed as he walked over to the bed too, dropping down beside Devlin--not quite so heavily. His leg moved outward, knee bumping Devlin's knee. It didn't go back, though; he kept it there, the sides of their legs touching. Warmth bloomed where they made contact. "Why did I lie about what?"

He did lie about a lot of shit--sometimes for a good reason, sometimes just to avoid getting into trouble. But usually he didn't lie to hurt people--not the people he cared about. Most of the time, a little white lie helped to avoid hurting them. And 100% of the time, one lie in particular helped keep him sane and kept some very nasty questions at bay.

[Devlin Quayle]

"...about my stuff."

He said it like it was obvious. What else was Jung Su lying about to even ask that? Made it sound like he had a whole list of things he lied to Devlin about. Maybe he was thinking wrongly about that. His pessimism did lead him down similar paths in the past. Devlin brought his hand up to his mouth without really thinking about it, teeth fastening on the edge of his pointer fingernail.

HIs stuff was his stuff. It was really all he had to hang onto. Mom made him see a shrink who told him that the stuff was acting as a replacement for the things he lost in his young life. It made sense but Devlin didn't like it when the shrink went on to say that now he was using all his things to keep other people from getting close to him. That sounded like... he didn't know. An oxymoron. Devlin wanted to be close to people.

He wanted it. Back in that bus, he felt like he had a friend in that stranger who didn't know him. He didn't know about Devlin or any of his baggage. To that guy, Devlin was cool. To everybody who knew Devlin, it just felt like... everybody was watching him with hawk eyes. Like they were waiting for him to... like go unhinged or something.

"What are you lying about?" he asked finally, the real reason he'd nervously started to bite his fingernails. "Like what else...?" He side-eyed Jung Su.

[Kwak Jung Su]

Ah, his stuff. His overabundance of stuff. In lieu of a response, Jung Su first looked around at the stuff. Tin cans filled to bursting with band-aids in their wrappers, elastic bands stuffed into a clear plastic box, stacks of tissues stolen from Happy Burger—with their logo on it, even. Paper bags carefully smoothed out and bunched together, rolls of toilet paper stacked up carefully into a pyramid in the corner. Just stuff. Stuff someone might need in an apocalypse, but not stuff a kid like Devlin needed right now.

To Jung Su, it was just stuff. He didn't attach any emotions to a wad of elastic bands or a bunch of toothbrushes, not the way Devlin did. Sometimes he thought maybe Devlin was afraid to trust people, so he trusted his stuff—inanimate things that couldn't hurt him, couldn't leave him, things he could hold on to forever, tight. Because people let people down. People left when you most needed them.

People lied.

What else was he lying about? They had already passed on from the first question and Jung Su still had no answer. Why he lied to Devlin about his stuff. Why he lied about anything. Because he did. Because he was afraid, despite his bravado and bluster and oh-so-flippant didn't give a shit about anybody front. Because lying was to Jung Su what stuff was to Devlin, that was why he lied.

For a long, long time he didn't speak. He just sat there looking at the sea of stuff before him, watching out of the corner of his eyes as Devlin chewed on his nail nervously, probably waiting for some hammer to drop. That Jung Su lied about everything, right? If he could lie about one thing, he could lie about everything. The thought was clear as day, as obvious as if it were printed in bold red block letters on his face.

"Everything. I lied about everything."

He lied all those times he touched Devlin, telling himself that all brothers did it. He lied when he told himself that the way he looked at Devlin meant nothing, when his gaze lingered a beat too long. He lied about his own feelings when he went out and fucked any bimbo at random club X, when the person he wanted was right here, sitting in the middle of all this fucking stuff because he couldn't find a person to trust to be with him. Everything.

Jung Su turned and grasped his face in one hand almost a little roughly. He forced it over to look at him, blue eyes to brown, nervous tension to repressed desperation. He held Devlin's gaze, a beat too long, and then his lips were on his lips. He was such a fucking liar. About everything.

[Devlin Quayle]

Everything? Not what Devlin wanted to hear but pretty much what he was expecting to hear. Or not, he didn't know why Jung Su would just say it plainly like that. He usually just used his powers of deflection. Questions that were never answered because he found ways to dance around answering them. Devlin didn't even notice he was doing it until he was alone, reviewing whatever conversation they had.

He didn't understand it. He tried, of course. Devlin was slow, they said. And maybe he was but that didn't make him a moron. It just meant it took him longer to make the same conclusions other people did. Sometimes, things had to be spelled out for him. Sometimes he didn't understand the difference between a sarcastic remark and a genuine one. It hurt his feelings. Jung Su was pretty good at that. He seemed to dislike doing it but he did it all the same.

But they both came from broken homes and families. It was only natural that they didn't know how to communicate. Even their mom, who tried, often threw her hands into the air and asked what she was going to do with the pair of them. She loved them though. The first couple of times she said things like that, it scared Devlin; he thought it was the end. That he was going to be kicked out and he wouldn't have a home--again.

It was just her manner, though. He learned it over time, just like he learned Jung Su's manner. He should have known it was a joke, even if it was mean one. About his stuff. It was even harder to differentiate between genuine words and sarcasm over the phone, over just words, text on a screen.

Devlin lowered his hand, fiddling with his own collar. The silence was deafening. Before he could break it with a question, though, Jung Su was snatching his face, turning it to face him. Eye to eye. Devlin was no good at this. Prolonged eye contact. It made him nervous. Like a wild dog, mom said. Skittish. Devlin felt like he was supposed to be understanding something about this, that there was some significance to Jung Su's words and the way he stared into his eyes like he was trying to communicate something without words. Devlin must be disappointing him; he didn't understand what was meant to be communicated.

"Jung--" he started, because really, between the silence and the staring, he was starting to feel antsy. But he was cut off. By lips. On his lips, unexpectedly. Suddenly. Devlin... was no good at this. He never kissed anybody before in his life. He was too weird; nobody liked him as a friend, let alone as anything else. After a moment, he turned his head away and then down, his hand automatically going to Jung Su's chest. He licked his lips, they were still... warm.

"Wh-what--?"

Jung Su was leagues beyond Devlin, more mature, much smarter, wiser. He knew things. Even if he danced around questions to do with himself, he had answers. Devlin wasn't blind, either. He saw Jung Su around people, knew he wasn't nearly as hopeless as Devlin was when it came to... this department. Jung Su might be a smart mouth but he was good-looking and that accounted for a lot.

[Kwak Jung Su]

Fuck.

Jung Su could tell by the way Devlin turned away and then put a hand on his chest to push him off that he'd done something wrong. Well no fucking duh, Sherlock. He royally fucked shit up this time. Usually he fucked shit up but he didn't do it this badly, this thoroughly. Swearing, he got to his feet, heart hammering painfully in his chest. He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have kissed him.

Now everything was fucking ruined.

"I'm sorry." He couldn't even look at Devlin now, catching only the top of his turned head out of the corner of his eyes. Jung Su swallowed. He put a hand on top of Devlin's head to... he didn't know. Reassure him that it wasn't his fault. Not his fault Jung Su was fucked up in the head. "It's late. We both had a long day so. Just. Go to bed."

He withdrew his hand quickly and turned to leave. "Sorry Dev. Forget... that happened."