saturniapavonia | (no subject)

[A five minute hour passes and Roman is at their apartment complex. Does he even have to go far? He's in the process of composing a text...]

[Yeah, no. There's an even shorter than usual bundle of dark-hair and blue eyes that's bounding down the stairs. Without proper defenses in place, Peter is totally just going to hug him.

Or, well, whatever of Roman he can reach anyway.]

I missed you!

[He's grinning.]

[A full out hug right out of the gate! It's bone crushing and heartfelt. ...Something he wasn't even sure he needed or even wanted until it was right around him.]

Hey.

[Smiling even, it's a marvel.]

It's only been a day.

Hey.

[Peter's smiling right back up at him, the expression warm, a glimmer in his eyes that's bright and surprisingly happy.]

Still. I couldn't find you.

[He's going to leave out the part where he got lost in the woods and Derek had to rescue him because that's totally un-cool. He's not letting go yet, though. ]

I would have told you if something was up. You worry too much. I'm good. See?

[Or maybe he'd be able to see if he wasn't taking a solid grip on Roman. This close he can feel slim mass and maybe bone.]

Now that y'know, what's up?

Nothing, I just wanted to see you.

[Peter's decided that he's just going to kind of hold onto Roman because he likes hugging him. He's warm and it feels nice. Comforting.]

Can we get ice cream?

[What on earth to do with this spot on heat lamp of affection? Roman's experience with younger children was limited to Shelley growing up. She was mute and wide-eyed when she was stable enough to leave the house but it wasn't anything like this.

Roman bats Peter's head.]

I didn't eat anything. Did you?

[So that means ice cream meal. Spoiled Godfrey doesn't think too much on it.]

Not really. I stole some snacks at Derek's. I still want ice cream, though.

[He looks up at him with a pointed look, a slightly roguish edge to that grin. It's a hint that says he might be eleven, but he's not entirely innocent, either.]

Ice cream for dinner, sticky fingers.

[Roman shakes his head. He shouldn't be surprised. That's the lifestyle right? Start em small and then see what happens. Except they're not gonna go walking with him attached at the hip...or em arms about the waist right?]

What was so cool about Derek's place?

[Peter does eventually realize how troublesome it would be to walk like this. He stops short of demanding Roman carry him. It's one thing with Derek, but with Roman he wants to see cooler than that. So, instead, he just steals his hand with a smile.]

C'mon.

[He tugs at his hand as he starts walking.]

It's not that he's cool. It's just that he's pack. So when I couldn't find you I called him.

[Try and be cool? Well. Not exactly. He has never been the sibling to carry his younger. It's been the other way around. But Peter to Shelley is like day to the dead of night. Hand thoroughly stolen and maybe jerked hard but not enough to get him to move until he takes that next step. There we go. In motion.]

If you say so. I mean, I'm still trying to figure out how it all works.

[Walk, walk, walking.]

Don't go drinking or anything. I don't want you to get arrested.

[Sounds unlikely because they're going to have ice cream for dinner so...]

They don't really arrest you for drinking.

[At least, that's what Peter will declare as he leads their way toward the ice cream shop. There's an implication that he at least has started sniping beers.

Although, at the moment, ice cream sounds way more appealing. His energy is almost palpable through his fingertips as their hands cling together.]

Somehow we run into law enforcement when we're together. With that in mind, no swig is going to touch your mouth while we're out. Got it?

[So begins his attempt at being authoritative, dare he even start with parental. No. Perish the thought.]

So we'll get ice cream. Then I dunno. Get some coins and go to an arcade-?

[Stuff Roman liked or wanted to do as a younger boy. He figures all boys would. Even wayward gypsy ones.]

Okay! Fine. I'll pretend to be all law-abiding and shit. Regular boy scout.

[Peter grins, a lift of an eyebrow, managing to look like a trouble-maker even as he tries to affect innocence. He's a kid, clearly he can't get up to anything, right?]

Sounds great. So c'mon.

[Tug. Roman has legs that go on forever, but Peter has the exuberance of childhood.]

Regular boy scouts don't say shit out loud.

[A pat upside the back of his head isn't bad enough to call a hit but jeez. Work with him here, Peter!]

All I'm saying is don't give anybody the chance to call bullshit. That's it.

[Shrug. Too cool Roman is actually looking forward to ice cream and games. The parlor is right up ahead.]

You do stuff like this when you were normally a kid?

[Peter can't help laughing when Roman points out that he's far from any sort of boy scout. He doesn't even blink when he pats him upside the back of the head; Destiny would hit him harder in the shoulder sometimes when he was being a particular jerk, so he didn't think much of it. There was a line between playfully rough love and mistreatment, and the Rumanceks were always clearly on one side.]

Alright, I'll do my best.

[When the ice cream parlor is in sight, he's almost skipping in sheer excitement and trying to pull Roman along with him. They're so close!]

Well, yeah. Usually just with some kids from where ever we happened to be. Con people into giving us money, and spent it on sweets and in the arcade.

[That's totally the same thing.]

(no subject)

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