Hobosexual

For a Piece of Change

As you would expect Gojo had to leave. You're not as disappointed as you should be, I think the numbness is beginning to take over you. There's only one bakery open at this time of the night and at this point you don't even have to steer the car yourself, it already knows your destination.

You sit on the bench, eyes heavy and empty, and mouth full of a sweet, airy, strawberry-iced, sprinkled donut. Each day these pastries are tasting better and better. But the days are progressively shittier.

You've been blue balled like no other. You considered staying home and finishing yourself off, but the thought of that made you feel even more upset. At this point you'd rather forget your waste of a husband even showed up.

"You've really gotta stop it, money bags. I'm like a bloodhound you know."

"More like roaches you derelict vagabond," you say holding out a donut to him. He lets out a soft, low chuckle while taking your offering.

"Vagabond? I kinda like the sound of that."

"Well, you shouldn't."

"I think I'd like anything you say to me," he says taking his first bite, moaning obnoxiously. You turn to look at him, confused by his words.

"I swear these get better every time," you chuckle to yourself thinking the same.

"So!" he says facing you, as if he's one of your girlfriends and you're just catching up.

"So...?"

"Well, when you last left you were having lady problems, and somehow we've both made it back here... I know I had a shitty night. How about you?"

"Hmm... the friend I've been sleeping with has developed feelings for me, my husband that is never around paid a surprise visit and then as soon as he stuck it in he got a call from work. Now I'm here."

"Did he at least eat you out??" he's looking at you wide eyed, as if he's really interested in your day.

"Yeah, I guess that was nice."

"Sounds like a dub to me. Boy how I wish someone would rock my world," he says leaning back onto the bench, twirling your hair and staring off into space. It doesn't bother you as much as it should, but you'll choke that up to the exhaustion.

"What? No pretty bag ladies to give you the time of your life?" you tease.

"None with a mouth I'd want on me! I still have standards ya know. Even a vagabond like me," he says slightly offended.

"Poor you."

"Yes 'poor me' a man still has his needs."

"And a woman doesn't?" you say enjoying the tease.

"Hinting at something there? Need some satisfying?" he says flirting with his eyebrows.

"Oh god, I don't even wanna think about it..."

"You calling me ugly, Miss Lady?" he's giving you an earnest, curious look, almost as if he really values your opinion. You take a second to think about your words, but decide it's probably best to be honest.

"Isn't there a community of the penniless that you can harass? Why spend so much time in this park? I doubt you're very successful in this area," you ask trying to change the subject.

"I have you now, you've been keeping me afloat. I think that counts as hitting the jackpot," he says with a wide satisfied smile. He looks up at the cloudless sky, the lamp by the bench highlighting all of his features.

"W-what happened to you?!" you say suddenly, finally noticing the cuts and bruises that are scattered across his face.

"Huh? Oh, these..." He says while gently grazing his fingers across them, as if he forgot they were there.

"I told you I had a shitty night."

"Come on," you say hurriedly grabbing your things. He looks at you confused, but before he knows it he's being dragged out the park by you.

"You're so feisty. Step on me?" you choose to ignore him, because what else are you gonna do? Eventually you make it to your car and you're both strapped in.

"I haven't been in a car in a looong time, ya know. I think I'm scared of them now."

"Do you ever shut up?.... Actually, don't answer."

It takes you no more than five minutes to arrive at a corner store, "Wait here and don't touch shit. Got it?" he nods his head and you head in. You purchase a first aid kit, an ice pack, and some treats. Once you get back in you find him digging through your center console, looking for change most likely.

"What part of don't touch anything do you not understand? I swear!" he slowly looks up at you with a mischievous grin on his face, by now it's clear he just wants a reaction out of you.

"Get out the car, I'm gonna patch you up," he obeys with no resistance, making this that much easier for you.

He leans against your car, but slightly bending down to be more eye level with you, you try your best to ignore the slight must emanating off of him, but it's a lil bothersome to say the least.

You apply the antiseptic to most of his cuts, whatever was visible at least, and applied cream to his bruises. He's as still as ever, which unsettles you a bit, especially seeing how bad some of his injuries are.

"It's really hard trying not to ask where all this came from," you say finally breaking the silence. He chuckles and gently grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his face. His eyes lock with yours and you as though your throat has dried up in an instant.

"It'd be a waste of time, my lips are sealed. I promise you, you don't wanna know," he says dryly, which causes you to frown, but you don't push any further.

"Are you done with me now?" he asks, he looks like he's ready to be back in his natural habitat. "I suppose. I made you a bit of a care package to hold you over in case I don't see you for a couple days," you say handing over the bag of goodies you got for him. Immediately he begins shuffling through it.

"Oh? Tired of me already? And what is this... gum? Are you trying to tell me something?" he says with a bit of a laugh, which makes you feel embarrassed. But why? It's his breath that stinks.

He pops a piece into his mouth, something about the way he chews churns something deep within you that you begin to stupidly looking at your feet before continuing the conversation.

"Not yet unfortunately, I have a visitor arriving in two days and I need time to prepare, but I'll stop by if I have the chance. How's that sound?" you say with a hopeful tone. He hasn't said anything yet, just looking you up and down, clearly finding his words.

"I think I'll live," he says patting your head and getting back into your car and you follow suit.

"Where am I taking you?"

"I'll direct you, just drive."