[ Eddie's never been so happy to have left all his shit in the back of the van, to have resisted the urge to roar down the highway with a fat joint between his lips. This fucker's thorough, patting him down everywhere he can, like there's any way he could've possibly hid a brick of hash in his back pockets.
He sighs before he turns around, hoping he at least looks sober as he meets the cop's eyes. It's not like he can't drive stoned - he does it all the fucking time, and it's never made his already poor driving any worse. ]
Uh.
[ Eddie's nose twitches as he's hit with a cloud of cloyingly sweet smoke, leaning back against the side of the van. He's running his tongue over his front teeth, trying to think of something, anything this guy might want.
It's too bad he's a pig, or he'd actually be pretty fuckin' hot. What a waste. ]
I mean - you've scared the shit out of me, dude -- sir. Officer. And um, I've learned my lesson. I'm gonna drive like a grandma til the day I die. I can stay pulled over for the night, sleep it off, whatever you want!
[ God, maybe if he were more sober he'd be less shaky, less paranoid, less talkative. But he can't stop himself. ]
[ uh. a standard answer, one that most drivers under the influence give. uh, uh, uh like their brains won't fucking cooperate. gator's used to that - hell, the amount of dwis he pulls over in a week - but this isn't the same. this guy's been smoking it up, girlfriend or no. not that gator believes that bullshit story, but this is fun.
his lips pull into a faux-pout, and he takes a step forward, head tilting back as he stares at him, this little long-haired freak with a shitty van. his chin nods, a jerk, and he leans on the van, hand out near this man's head. he looks his face over, eyes wandering shamelessly, his lips curling upward. ]
It's deputy. Deputy Tillman to you, fuck for brains.
[ anything. gator likes the sound of that, always has. that's how he's been making exchanges for years, and this is the same. fucking for drugs, fucking to get out of tickets and warrants - gator licks his bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth for a firm suck. ]
Sorry. Sorry! Deputy Tillman. No disrespect meant.
[ Bullshit, and they both know it, but hey. Eddie's not above a little flattery if it means not ending the night in lockup. Or a lot of flattery, if that's what it takes.
Also: Fuck. Tillman. Like Sheriff Tillman? Fuck, he's so fucked now, his mind racing with ways he imagines his life is going from here. Drunk tank, van seized, searched. The trailer'll be next, and fuck, what if that implicates Wayne? Wayne's never did a fucking thing wrong and it'll all be his fault for bringing drugs in and -- oh.
There shouldn't be any hope in that, but it's all Eddie's got, so his knees hit the gravel on the shoulder of the road, pressing into his skin through the holes in his jeans. He presses his palms against his thighs, clammy, trying not to shake, and gazes up at Tillman, tongue flicking out over his lips. ]
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He sighs before he turns around, hoping he at least looks sober as he meets the cop's eyes. It's not like he can't drive stoned - he does it all the fucking time, and it's never made his already poor driving any worse. ]
Uh.
[ Eddie's nose twitches as he's hit with a cloud of cloyingly sweet smoke, leaning back against the side of the van. He's running his tongue over his front teeth, trying to think of something, anything this guy might want.
It's too bad he's a pig, or he'd actually be pretty fuckin' hot. What a waste. ]
I mean - you've scared the shit out of me, dude -- sir. Officer. And um, I've learned my lesson. I'm gonna drive like a grandma til the day I die. I can stay pulled over for the night, sleep it off, whatever you want!
[ God, maybe if he were more sober he'd be less shaky, less paranoid, less talkative. But he can't stop himself. ]
I'll do -- anything. I can't go to jail.
no subject
his lips pull into a faux-pout, and he takes a step forward, head tilting back as he stares at him, this little long-haired freak with a shitty van. his chin nods, a jerk, and he leans on the van, hand out near this man's head. he looks his face over, eyes wandering shamelessly, his lips curling upward. ]
It's deputy. Deputy Tillman to you, fuck for brains.
[ anything. gator likes the sound of that, always has. that's how he's been making exchanges for years, and this is the same. fucking for drugs, fucking to get out of tickets and warrants - gator licks his bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth for a firm suck. ]
On your knees.
no subject
[ Bullshit, and they both know it, but hey. Eddie's not above a little flattery if it means not ending the night in lockup. Or a lot of flattery, if that's what it takes.
Also: Fuck. Tillman. Like Sheriff Tillman? Fuck, he's so fucked now, his mind racing with ways he imagines his life is going from here. Drunk tank, van seized, searched. The trailer'll be next, and fuck, what if that implicates Wayne? Wayne's never did a fucking thing wrong and it'll all be his fault for bringing drugs in and --
oh.
There shouldn't be any hope in that, but it's all Eddie's got, so his knees hit the gravel on the shoulder of the road, pressing into his skin through the holes in his jeans. He presses his palms against his thighs, clammy, trying not to shake, and gazes up at Tillman, tongue flicking out over his lips. ]
I help you, you help me, right?