What We've Got Verse
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The first night Marty gets Rust home and put to bed he whimpers like an old hound dog in his sleep, making these ripped-raw noises that well and gurgle up past his lips like fresh blood from the hole in his gut all over again. Doesn’t know he’s doing it, course not, but Marty lays there next to him in the dark—the man’s only got one bed, ain’t no shame in that—and has to wonder about the Vietnam-grade shit Rust’s got playing in living technicolor in his head.
Series
- Part 1 of What We've Got Verse
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He should’ve taken his pills an hour ago but they still sit in their little shot glass tumbler on the coffee table next to a glass of water that sweat itself to death before he so much as touched it. Rust’ll hear about that in the morning, maybe, though he’ll have to watch Marty throw accusatory looks in the direction of the handful of pain medication first, like it’d somehow gone and betrayed them both. He’ll probably fuck off to the kitchen at first light and mash them into applesauce with the tagalong threat of a good spoon-feeding, but Rust hasn’t pushed him that far.
At least not yet.
Series
- Part 2 of What We've Got Verse
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They kissed for the first time a week and four days ago, and that’s the main thing that yanks him back out of that place between ‘95 and when it all went to hell in a handbasket, out of trailer park jungle and dreams of dead women haloed with switch grass and ten-point crowns.
A week and four days since the first. Marty’s been counting.
Series
- Part 3 of What We've Got Verse
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“What’s your idea of the American dream?” Rust asks a little while later under the full cover of night, words pressed quiet somewhere near Marty’s pulse.
Marty huffs out a soft laugh into Rust’s hair, narrowing his eyes against the ceiling. “That some kind of trick question?”
Series
- Part 4 of What We've Got Verse
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all I want for christmas (is you) by blackeyedblonde for A_Hodgepodge_of_Nothings
Fandoms: True Detective
20 Dec 2015
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Rust hums something wordless in his throat, fingers following the delicate line of Ghost’s spine. He swallows before his eyes crack back open, peering at Marty through the light coming off the lamp and Christmas tree.
“Had somewhere I was planning to be tomorrow,” he says, and then looks away again, throat bobbing in place. “Was thinking about making the drive out to Houston.”
Series
- Part 5 of What We've Got Verse
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“A sleepover!” Marty says, winking while he watches Rust drop down to lean on his elbows against the countertop. Their eyes meet and hold across the kitchen, sharing a look of mutual agreement without speaking a word. “What if Poppy and I don’t have sleeping bags?”
“You don’t need ‘em, Grampa,” Lilah says, matter-of-factly this time, though she giggles like he really ought to know better. “You and Poppy already got a bed.”
Series
- Part 6 of What We've Got Verse
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Tonight’s darkness is a different kind, and the love Rust has for Marty is a different kind of affection from the love he found in the revelation of death. That love was like slipping into a warm saltwater pool—buoyant, pure, and infinite. This love with Marty has a heartbeat. Not so much in the sense that it will stop one day, but in that it’s a big part of what keeps him alive.
Series
- Part 7 of What We've Got Verse