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English
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
831
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
10
Hits:
1,342

Dear Slash Abbey III

Summary:

advice columnist

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Dear Slash Abbey III
by Susan

Vin eased the door open, hearing nothing, scowling, tread softly over the waxed hardwood floor. "Ez, honey, ya home? Sweetheart?"

He dropped his keyring on the bar as he passed into the kitchen, grabbing the last bottle of beer from the frig, and accidentally kicked the stool over with the point of his boot. "Dern your hide--" he clumsily got his toe caught between the rungs, and his elbow collided with papers and oh..

The Rainbow newspaper flew off the counter-top, it landed, its pages shuffling (of course) to that Dear Abbey column, and right there in black and white, was *his* stupid, stupid...oh my God, half of it had been torn out...her reply was missing, just the "Dear Doubting in Denv..." left along a jagged tear.

Oh shee--it! Ez had read it... Vin had intended to stuff the paper in the bottom of the garbage bag, saving all the beer bottles, Frito crumbs, coffee grounds, tea bags, the toilet trash and the slimey, hard-lumped tortilla remains of his bean and beef burritos to go on top. Certain Ez would never in his life read it; what a mistake! Ez sneered at advice to the lovelorn. What'd cause him to pick up--

Knotting the "Out and About" section in his fist, ripping Hugh Grant's perfect face, flattening Lance Bass' spiked hair and mutilating the whole of Yoda, he then scrunched the entire newspaper into a ball, and jammed it into the trashcan under the sink. Oh, yeah, idiot, lockin' that barn door after the Ez-horse has escaped.

What am I supposed to--I didn't even get to read her advice to me.

Vin paced, colliding with the bar stool again. He slapped his forehead, "dammit, ow--"

How much is...?

He couldn't subtract it in his head now. I just...can't concentrate.

Rifling through the catch-all drawer, next to the frig, he found an old vacuum cleaner bill from Sears, and taking the two-inch stubby pencil with no eraser, he put down the numbers on the back of the invoice.

216-154

Oh hell, borrow ten to make that 11, cancel that stupid frickin' two, that's 62. Sixty-two dollars, which I--

Squeezing his wallet from his tight jeans pocket, he reached in, unfolded it, and gathered everything inside, counting, that's a ten, that's a five, four ones, a Wriggly Juicy Fruit wrapper, a condom, that's a goddamn receipt for that loaf of bread and two six packs last Saturday morning, and there's...nada. I'm broke. Maybe I can make it to the ATM down at Quikkie Mart.

He whirled around, snatching his keys, the friggin door bell rang... oh, heck far, he thought, now iddn't that just so cliche-ey, only in a dumb sitcom do they call out "Oh, hon, you must've forgotten your house keys," and your partner waiting there...that's so...wait... that's my
real life!

But it was Buck standing there, a strange expression on his face, his lips all twisted, his knees locked tightly together. He pushed Vin out of the doorway, and ran shuffling, sidewise, calling, "I'm gonna pi--" he jerked, ignoring the shock on Vin's face from seeing his friend undoing his belt buckle, and sliding down his fly.

"Bu--"

"Bathroom!" Buck cried, and slammed Vin's own bedroom door in Vin's face.

I can't leave him here to get to the ATM, can I..?... oh God, I need some money.

Wheels turned. He slapped himself.

He opened the door, and standing right outside the bathroom, he crossed his eyes, coughed and moaned, "Buck, I need to borrow some money."

Sixty-two minus nineteen is--...

^^^^^^^^^

Vin put the $62 inside the manila envelope with the rest of the cash, making the total amount what it had been before he'd known there was money missing. He slid the drawer shut just as Ezra walked into the bedroom.

"Darlin', what are--"

Oh! Aitch ee double hockey sticks!

Vin's heart jumped and he looked over his shoulder. Ezra was unbuttoning his vest, loosening his tie, and frowning.

Caught, you dumb cowboy.

"--you doing in there?" Ezra finished, catching his shirt by the cuffs before it draggled over the carpet.

Vin slammed into him. Ezra groaned, "ooomph..." and Vin siezed his lips in a kiss, then softening it, traced the sweet edges of the full lips, while rubbing  apologetic circles over Ez's shoulders.

"Just puttin' my dollar in for yer favors, Angel." The idea popped into his brain like the lightbulb breaking over the cartoon superhero's thick head.

Ezra rolled his cat eyes at the endearment. "Just one dollar--," he nearly blushed, "but... it's Friday night, darlin'."
 
Vin latched onto Ezra's lips again (oh God, how soft your mouth tastes--and you've been eating chocolate mints.) He grinned, nipping the delicious earlobe. "I'm just 'bout broke, that is, til payday, you gonna lend me--?"

Ezra frowned. Money leaving his pocket? "Uh...Vin, would you like a freebie?"

 

(The end...since this is rated PG.)

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Susan.
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