“You wanna smoke?
“Really? In all of this? And you don’t wanna smoke? Your kiddin’ me.”
Pee Wee held two with his lips, bent his head down, shielding his lighter in cupped hands from wind and snapped his chin up stretching his neck, throat open, dragging smoke through both lips holding ‘em pointed up, being still. He took one out, the other relaxing down, and reached out to offer it up. Kup salivated and was penned in now, by the aroma and his desire, back into his own fuckin’ corner.
“Prick,” and he took the Lucky and dragged on it and drew inward and closed his eyes and held it being still, too.
“How’s it feel?
“Well…” exhaling, “tastes good feels better, you prick.”
“OK. Good,” Pee Wee chuckling a ‘typical’ inside. “Now, what are we gonna do to get outta here?”
“Now? No. Now I finish my Lucky.”