/ * give me the green light

[luc beau leblanc]

give me the green light.

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nine thirty pm, saône river side, headache ridden.
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"taylor, taylor!"

[/color] almost like a drunk dial because he'd probably forget it, but he was feeling happy at all. in fact, whatever shit he'd taken was making him feel like complete crap. "so, my good sir, i think we should get together."[/color] he moaned a little bit as a ferocious headache plagued him, gripping his own sheets in attempt to call himself. "i'll tell you where in a minute. i have to get some tylenol. bye."[/color] he ran a hand through his hair, walking quickly over to the bathroom in the hallway. a clamor sounded as he opened the door of the cabinet, usually a sign that he was picking something random off it's shelves, but the desperately loud shuffling was only caused as another wave of headache racked his head and body. he smiled appreciatively (oh thank you, dear cabinet) and took one or two of the pills in his hand. quantity didn't really matter to him. it had stopped mattering a while ago - that's not to say that he was a quality of quantity kind of person, though, he kind of didn't care about either. he went back into his room and fell down pathetically onto the bed. he still felt sick.

"lucas!" he was asleep. he told himself he was asleep. maybe his annoying ass twin would just go away if he was asleep - but he didn't, no, he went over and gave a thorough shake to his brother's dying frame. from there it was a blur to luc, there was something his brother thought about him that he didn't like. there was an insult, and luc had jumped to his feet, almost falling down in the process. there was a comment about his drunken state. there was an unthought out push against and a clenched fit, causing his brother to grab his fist (happily doing so, might i add) and pushing his hardest until there was some kind of a snap. he left then. luc moaned in an upset fashion - sprains or even bruises were something he didn't want to have to cope with. he wrapped it up tightly with some loose fabric on the floor, not sure exactly why it was there but knowing it was convenient, and falling asleep. he was tired as hell. that was the headache talking.

it was an hour nap. it fell good, but he was disgustingly disoriented by the time he was back on his feet. he thought about it for a second. what was he doing before that good sleep? uh...he could only remember the wrist once he felt it. it took him awhile before he figured out the second piece of the puzzle - a text from taylor. "where?" he tapped a finger against his chin (as there was no hair to comb) and puckered his lip. "river. on the bridge. there's a bench, i'm sure. in an hour, i'm tired as fuck." it was then that he pressed send. luc went and lay down back onto the bed, feeling like a middle schooler who wanted an extra five minutes. he set an alarm on his phone for a half an hour. when his phone started beeping, he groaned. he had just been lying there. he now figured out that he was supposed to be over at that bench in fifteen minutes. he got up and through a long sleeve shirt on, in some shade of red, a sweatshirt, and a biege coat. he picked up a scarf and wrapped his comfortably around his neck.

outside he went, from there to his bike, from his bike to the bench. no sight of taylor. oh, fucker, now lucas was going to be sitting in the freezing cold. it was going to seep through all of his clothes. there was a shit load of them, too, but he just wasn't moving around. he put up his hood and crossed his arms, eyes fluttering closed because he was simply that tired. the headache had persisted, but he had learned to ignore it over the hours. his head fell to the side and he continued waiting until he suddenly felt an arm slinked over his pathetically thin shoulders (badly proportioned to his buff arms) and he collapsed involuntarily against the close frame. he wasn't sure exactly what the person was doing, but he was all for it. "taylorrr. what the fuck are you doing?"[/color] he whispered quietly, nudging him teasingly in the side. he didn't move, though. he felt way too comfortable and it was obvious that the cuddle bug in lucas was taking over and he softly slouched and smirked.

he opened his eyes abruptly. "heeyy you."[/color]" he got up a little bit, straightening and pulling away. he pulled a cigarette from a pack in his bag, lighting it up and quickly blowing some smoke in the opposite direction. he was happy now that he was with someone. way to go, tay!

ooc; le done.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[taylor nicholas rowley]

although the distance is daring,
WE BOTH KNOW HOW TO DRIVE.

taylor always had some sort of a strange grace about him— every bundle of smoke coaxed out of the tightly wrapped paper, as well as every tip of the ash forming at the end of his cigarette, even found a way to be made graceful upon coming from taylor’s hand. for a moment he left it hanging onto his lower lip, his eyes closing as his hands both moved to rest in the pockets of his charcoal grey jeans. they were tight to his waist, and almost equally tight all the way to where his shoes cut them off. the scarf tugged around his neck reeked strongly of cigarette smoke, and by looking at the ashtray on the table before him, it was obvious why— at least three butts were shoved into their own ash, all piled, one on top of the other. the kid didn’t always smoke more than two a day, and usually a pair was his limit for one sitting, however he was feeling particularly hung-over, and particularly crabby. so, the solution? excess amounts of cigarettes and lung cancer, of course.

finding himself particularly fascinated with one of the brightly coloured bracelet tired around his own wrist, taylor zoned out far enough into his own little world that the phone vibrating in the deep depths of his pocket didn’t even faze him. it wasn’t until the familiar triple beeping and frantic vibrating of a voicemail that he actually stirred. his cigarette wasn’t completely smoked yet, however that didn’t stop him from letting it fall from his fingertips as he reached for his mobile phone— he was trying to at least create the illusion that he was quitting. one of his old roommate’s fathers fell under the curse of an addiction to smoking, and taylor always regretted going home with the male to see the effects of it. it provides something of a motivation, however, those memories, for him to actually convince himself to stop. sometimes, though, the only true remedy for relief is a relaxing smoke. being friends with people like luc really doesn’t help his cause, either, but that has never stopped him yet.

speaking of luc, the voicemail flashing on his screen belonged to the very boy. for a moment, taylor simply raised an eyebrow and allowed his inbox to be rung. he placed the speaker loosely near his ear, the wasted drone of luc’s voice filled his very tight vicinity. as the voice on the other line proceeded to go on about his options for the message, taylor flipped it shut and shoved it back into his pocket. of course, the action didn’t go without a smirk and/or eye roll, because taylor couldn’t listen to a message like that and have some sort of rude reaction to it. of course, it wasn’t in spite of the boy, himself, it was simply because that was his character. he was relatively excited, though, for some reason, to meet up with the younger blonde. that alone explained why, after an hour of not hearing anything, taylor quickly inquired for himself where they would be meeting up.

throughout the duration of said last hour, taylor had gone back to his apartment and changed his clothes, and got a coffee from the local café down the road. coffee was literally one of taylor’s most addicted-to drugs— he can’t go one day without at least two cups of coffee. in the mourning, if he’s not provided with a steamy cup with the proper amount of sugar, he’s automatically grumpy. just remember that if a cigarette doesn’t work, a simple cup of steaming joe will. as a matter of fact, he still had that one— it was about five minutes after the hour he was supposed to meet luc, however he was taking his time on the sidewalk. luc had made him wait plenty more than he was doing so now, and it has been much colder, so taylor really feels no guilt. this is coming from the one who barely has any conscience at all, but the point still remains. his phone gives a few impatient vibrates, but he can see luc from where he is, and he’s not staring intently down at the keypad of his phone. making a face, taylor simply shrugs off the suspicion— as well as his phone’s ringing— and urges himself forward through the tall grass.

the water was rather blinding with the reflection of what little sun wasn’t engulfed in clouds, making it almost improbable for taylor to make the shot he made into the rubbish bin. low and behold, though, the empty plastic toppled inside after a bit of resistance. grinning in obvious satisfaction— seeing as he had proof that he was still, currently, flawless— taylor tugged helplessly at the naturally coloured scarf tied loosely around his neck. with a bare two or three more steps, his arms were wrapped in a similarly loose fashion around luc’s neck, playing a scarf for him as well, it seemed. he laughed melodiously into the other male’s ear, his breath undoubtedly spreading over his skin. “just let it happen, lukey boy,” he mumbled, quickly allowing himself to be nudged away and untangled from luc’s body. before long, he found himself sauntering around the bench and plopping down beside the considerably smaller male, glancing at him as a flare of light appeared in the corner of his eye. shaking his head, taylor quickly snatched the cigarette away from luc’s lips and looked at him dubiously. “now what have i told you about smoking, leblanc? it’s unhealthy,” the elder male scolded passively, proceeding to place the freshly lit cigarette between his own lips.

status; finished, finally. ha. :]
word count; 900 + forty-five.
notes; omfg finally. apologies.

[luc beau leblanc]

give me the green light.

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with the few breaths that the time allowed for, luc was already shivering pathetically. he didn't really enjoy having taylor's breath of his frozen skin (or rather, he enjoyed it too much for his own comfort.) "you know i can't just 'let it happen.'"

[/color] he remarked softly, watching his breath in the cold air. yet somehow he allowed "it" to happen for a few more seconds before he had pulled out of the grasp. stupidly, it seemed, and he regretted it quite a lot when noticed that even a small amount of body heat helped a lot in the frigid air. it wasn't supposed to be this cold in fall. it always was in lyon, though, and luc found that the heat in the summer seemed odd after the long falls and winters.

he moaned as the cigarette was snatched from his lips, frowning. "pfft. healthy."[/color] "healthy" stopped mattering a long time ago, he would have mentioned, but decided not to worry his friend very much with how he was destroying his health this time. he simply waited for taylor to pass it back to him, teasing, "hypocrite."[/color] lucas licked his lower lip in anticipation, tapping his fingertips anxiously against the wood of the bench. he'd been waiting a little bit and decided, taking action, to finally take it back and place it carefully between his own lips desperately. cigarettes was his biggest addiction - probably the one that wasn't decaying as much as others - but he still could hardly live a minute of the day without a cigarette in hand. it was kind of just how he rolled.

he took in a moment from the corner of his eye the sight of his friend. he had never considered taylor rowley as anything more than a friend, but he couldn't admit that he'd never being staring before. he couldn't help but to admit that his friend was unhealthily attractive: the pretty hair, the perfectly formed shape, the gorgeous eyes that he probably wouldn't be able to get over even if he just lost him as a friend...he felt pathetic thinking about it. he just looked so good in comparison to himself. luc with the dulling eyes and pale skin, the messy hair and frail body - nothing in comparison (at least, that was, in his own eyes.) his middle name, beau, was certainly no literal translation of his own figure. it was probably the drugs finally getting to him - already getting to him. it was hard for a a person to maintain their person when they were so caught up in fucking it over. luc was basically killing himself, decaying slowly, but he didn't want to think about it. it didn't feel as horrible as it sounded...it didn't feel as bad as it sounded yet.

he bit down on his lip with the cigarette nearly finished. they had just been sitting there for a few minutes in silence, as lucas often did with people. he didn't really need to be talking in order to enjoy the company of another person. he just wanted to having someone there with him and then he felt perfectly fine. he threw the cigarette, nearly nothing, on the ground and crushed it about with his ash ridden bottom of a shoe, licking his lip as he finally decided to continue their conversation like a regular person was. someone would have normally said that luc had blanked out, but taylor knew him better than that. he assumed he had known that he was just ignoring the fact that he was in a situation where small talk would usually be made. mates like them really didn't need it. luc never really needed it, especially. he slicked his lip again and then spoke.

"mm. how're you, tay?"[/color] he was pretty sure he hated the name with a passion - seeing as he was already miffed about the fact that his name could be male or female - but luc really didn't care. he didn't care at all...not about much, either.

ooc; lala.itsucksiwasrushing.
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[taylor nicholas rowley]

I'M SO SORRY BBY, BUT I'M NOT FINISHED YET.
FIRES AROUND MY HOUSE AND SHIT, but tomorrow. :]

the smirk on taylor’s face was so familiar— so cruel— it should be sickening to most. however, it was a very flattering feature for him, and he certainly abused this knowledge. “and why not, then? don’t you trust me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as his fingertips trailed from luc’s jean-clad knee and slowly up his thigh. of course, not far enough to merit any sort of reaction before he tugged his hand away quickly. taylor never really understood the concept of ‘keeping your hands to yourself’. besides, what fun is that? taylor shifted in his spot uncomfortably, small pieces of spare wood snagging on the denim of his jeans as he tried to break free. he huffed in annoyance, leaning back and deciding he’d deal with it later. for now, he turned his attention back to luc and raised an eyebrow, refraining from touching him any further than he already had— for now. bottom line was that taylor was a very touchy person, and he didn’t particularly care if you didn’t like it. especially now, he couldn’t bring himself to care as he inhaled a puff of smoke and expelled it in a very graceful manner. he had it down to a science by now, and it was probably an amusing thing to watch.

taylor was honestly surprised when luc simply used words, opposed to actions, to get his cigarette back— for awhile, at least. rolling his eyes when the other male spoke, taylor simply folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “now that’s not very nice. i’m simply trying to be a good, walking, talking example of what you could turn into with a few more of these babies,” he informed him, nodding slightly. he made a face, somewhere between distasted and simple disgust, as if expressing his dislike of the idea of luc turning out to be like him. sighing, he took his lower lip between his teeth and once more taking the cigarette off luc’s lips.