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hennessysTitle: Smoke
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A night on the cliffs.
Warnings: minors having sex.
Notes: Well, this was a revelation. May or may not wind up canon.
The day passed in a series of snapshots: late again, mouthing off, detention slip, Asia blue-tipped hair and gorgeous curves waiting in the hallway.
"Fuck this," she said, fifteen minutes into detention, "you wanna go out back and smoke?"
Asia didn't have a pack on her so Tommy gave her a ten, and she came back from the drugstore with cigarettes, a six-pack, and the change tucked between her breasts.
They went out to the cliffs above the ocean, sat against a wall and watched the sun go down, curls of smoke blue-grey against the twilight.
"It's bullshit," Asia said around ten, "all of this is just bullshit," and Tommy nodded, watching the stars wheel overhead.
He kissed her at one AM, and tasted smoke on her tongue.
At one-forty-five she grabbed his hand, moved it off her thigh, and stood; his insides froze.
At two she came back, threw a condom at his chest, and took off her shirt.
It was three AM when she put her jeans back on and ruffled his hair, said, "You're all right, kiddo."
At four he rolled over and said, "I love you," and bit his lip when she laughed kindly and told him he was drunk.
Dawn, and they still lay side by side in the grass, touched by the green-gold of the sunlight, empty beer cans scattered and a last wisp of cigarette smoke fading away.
Tommy's dad pulled him out of school a week after; three months later, he was dead.
Asia called the baby Smokey, and never would say why.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A night on the cliffs.
Warnings: minors having sex.
Notes: Well, this was a revelation. May or may not wind up canon.
The day passed in a series of snapshots: late again, mouthing off, detention slip, Asia blue-tipped hair and gorgeous curves waiting in the hallway.
"Fuck this," she said, fifteen minutes into detention, "you wanna go out back and smoke?"
Asia didn't have a pack on her so Tommy gave her a ten, and she came back from the drugstore with cigarettes, a six-pack, and the change tucked between her breasts.
They went out to the cliffs above the ocean, sat against a wall and watched the sun go down, curls of smoke blue-grey against the twilight.
"It's bullshit," Asia said around ten, "all of this is just bullshit," and Tommy nodded, watching the stars wheel overhead.
He kissed her at one AM, and tasted smoke on her tongue.
At one-forty-five she grabbed his hand, moved it off her thigh, and stood; his insides froze.
At two she came back, threw a condom at his chest, and took off her shirt.
It was three AM when she put her jeans back on and ruffled his hair, said, "You're all right, kiddo."
At four he rolled over and said, "I love you," and bit his lip when she laughed kindly and told him he was drunk.
Dawn, and they still lay side by side in the grass, touched by the green-gold of the sunlight, empty beer cans scattered and a last wisp of cigarette smoke fading away.
Tommy's dad pulled him out of school a week after; three months later, he was dead.
Asia called the baby Smokey, and never would say why.
