Az Adams
Azimio Adams; at your service. But call me anything but Az and you'll find your bed disassembled. I work repairs and lead the strength games during showtime on account of my pretty face and charming wit. I'm pretty chillax most of the time, although I'm kind of new to the whole circus-circuit thing, so y'might be better off asking someone else. Just so ya know.
“Zee’s fine,” he smirked, watching her reaction to the place. He was a little surprised - but not disappointed by - the directness with which she moved across the shop to what she wanted. He was so used to people standing at the very edge of the shop and making pithy requests that it was almost a nice change.
“Naw,” he agreed, “‘m not in charge of stock or anythin’ though, Dave likes to do that by himself. Get this, he says ‘You always order the wrong shit Az’,” he attempted a poor impersonation of his grumpy work partner, a little bit raw from that particular comment. It wasn’t his fault there were like a million different types of screws with tiny differences. Plus, that had been a long time ago, and Dave was still holding onto it.
“S’all there,” he pointed at the cans, “‘m shit with colors and junk though, so you’ll have to work that out yerself.”
She thought she sensed a little bitterness in Zee’s voice as he spoke about Dave, but she wasn’t always the best at reading people, so she brushed it off. “So, Dave’s the guy in charge?” she asked as she returned her gaze to the shelves of paint. She definitely knew her way around a color scheme, and it didn’t take her long to pick out the colors she wanted. She set the pails of paint one by on the table behind her. She could sense him watching her, probably wondering why the hell she needed so much paint. She reached up for the final pail, stretching up on her tip-toes, but it was just out of reach of her fingertips. She looked back, imploringly. “Care to lend a hand?”
Grinning Az couldn’t resist the opportunity to prove his manly prowess, snorting as he raised an eyebrow at the unreachable can.
“A’course I can,” he gloated, even though he wasn’t much taller than the girl he thought he’d probably be able to reach it without too much effort. Stretching out an arm he found himself grazing the handle, and in the end he had to raise his heels just off of the floor to grasp it properly. Clutching the bottom with his other hand he read the side which proudly proclaimed what looked like ‘red’ to him was in fact ‘rosso corsa’, whatever the fuck that meant.
“Here you are, m’lady,” he said with a mock-bow, holding out the can to her, “Will you be needin’ assistance in escorting these cans t’your humble abode?”
Like always Azimio was the first to cave - pretty much straight away. “Oh dude, naw! Get your nasty-ass mug outta my face,” he whined, pushing the aforementioned mug with a hand to keep him out of kissing distance. “If that’s all it takes to get you in the mood then remind me t’not initiate this weird little talk, m’kay?”
He physically shifted down the bench, away from Dave. It wasn’t the fact he was gay that made him uncomfortable, and he knew the guy was just taking the piss, but it still made him cringe a little.
“That or I’ll buy you anotha one’a those blow up mansluts for ya, seeing as you so kindly put the last one I got ya for your birthday in the garbage.”
Dave barked a laugh, leaning back into his own space. “You get me another fuck doll and I’ll pay five rent boys to come give you a visit —and tell them you like pretending to be straight.” he sighed slightly, dragging a hand through his hair. “We’re not doing shit anyway,” he said obviously, “might as well get to drinking early. You down?”
“Hey man that’s just straight-up evil,” Az said, his voice rising an octave at the prospect, “An’ I don’t believe you can afford five rent boys, and even if you could why waste ‘em on me?” Az trailed off, realizing that he was perhaps putting too much thought into exactly what Dave could do with five rent boys. He shook his head slightly, as if to clear the mental images he could have done without.
“Always,” he answered, getting up and swiping his arm across his table to clear it - leaving his tools at one edge. Picking up what he’d been working on he tucked it underneath to stop someone stepping on it by accident before turning around. “Yours?” he asked, knowing the answer seeing as his trailer didn’t even have anywhere to sit unless you counted the bed - and Az was not under any pretence sharing a bed with Dave - even to drink.
“Damn,” Az groaned, genuinely disappointed, “But that’s the fun shit.” He was trying hard not to smile, but it didn’t work. He’d managed to get the guy to talk about love of all things - Az had just been talking about a date, maybe two at push - enough to get his rocks off at least, but love? Where had that come from? Az’s intuition was telling him where, but he wasn’t listening hard enough to consciously realize it.
“And y’know the only reason I do that stuff is ‘cause I love you - you jackass - right?” He wouldn’t call what the two of them shared love, but it wasn’t quite friendship either. Either way love was the closest word he could think of, and Dave had mentioned it first. He didn’t know if that made it more or less gay, but it was out there now.
“Yeah, I know.” Dave grinned. “I told you, dude, you’re not my type.” he smirked slightly, leaning in a little. “But I guess I could make an exception. What with you being so sweet to me and all,” Dave joked, moving like he was going to kiss Az (which he had no intention of actually doing).
Like always Azimio was the first to cave - pretty much straight away. “Oh dude, naw! Get your nasty-ass mug outta my face,” he whined, pushing the aforementioned mug with a hand to keep him out of kissing distance. If that’s all it takes to get you in the mood then remind me t’not initiate this weird little talk, m’kay?”
He physically shifted down the bench, away from Dave. It wasn’t the fact he was gay that made him uncomfortable, and he knew the guy was just taking the piss, but it still made him cringe a little.
“That or I’ll buy you anotha one’a those blow up mansluts for ya, seeing as you so kindly put the last one I got ya for your birthday in the garbage.”
Az nodded, feeling like he needed a pencil and pad of paper. It all sounded obvious, but it was the sort of thing he was prone to forgetting. Like how he couldn’t joke with Hummel like he would with Dave. Actually, Hummel probably wasn’t a bad marker to go with. They’d spent a couple of hours hanging out, and Az had mostly managed not to piss the guy off, so if he tried that with Mercedes maybe he’d have some success. Because she was hot, and Az would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested. Even if that interest was only driven by over a year without actual sex.
“Right. So basically do the opposite of what I would with a guy,” he hedged, thinking it all through.
“I don’t think it’s so much about gender as it’s about …treating the people you love, the people you think you could love, the way they deserve.” Love… god, Dave was a fucking idiot. “Look, it’s not easy, but it’s not rocket science, either. You know that feeling you get when you draw tits and shit on my crap? If something gives you that feeling —don’t. That’s really it.”
“Damn,” Az groaned, genuinely disappointed, “But that’s the fun shit.” He was trying hard not to smile, but it didn’t work. He’d managed to get the guy to talk about love of all things - Az had just been talking about a date, maybe two at push - enough to get his rocks off at least, but love? Where had that come from? Az’s intuition was telling him where, but he wasn’t listening hard enough to consciously realize it.
“And y’know the only reason I do that stuff is ‘cause I love you - you jackass - right?” He wouldn’t call what the two of them shared love, but it wasn’t quite friendship either. Either way love was the closest word he could think of, and Dave had mentioned it first. He didn’t know if that made it more or less gay, but it was out there now.
Az couldn’t help but laugh at Dave’s pathetic attempt at an ego-boost. Then again, very few people that worked here seemed to have much in the way of an ego, besides a few of the performers. Everyone else just sort of… worked. Sure, there was the sense of community or whatever - not that Azimio bought into that - but at the end of the day people were living in trailers or caravans. No one could claim they were living the dream, unless their dream was seriously fucked up.
“None taken,” he grunted, sitting down on the nearest bench, suddenly feeling like the biggest wet blanket ever, “I dunno, man, y’said it yourself, when was the last time I had a girlfriend? I don’t know the first fuckin’ thing about treatin’ a girl right.”
“Alright, man. Crash course.” Dave muttered, throwing Az a bone as he sat down with his friend. “It’s really not hard. Y’don’t hit them,” he’d shoved Kurt, “You never yell. But girls love yelling, so let ‘em. Talking shit out sometimes isn’t an option, but it should be the first option, not the yelling,” add another strike to the Hypocritical Advice count, “Don’t lie. They’ll always find out, then it’s worse.” That one had been so hypocritical he could almost laugh. Or cry. “And don’t demean them. You might think it’s a joke or some shit, but I promise you it’s just gonna make her feel like shit.”
Az nodded, feeling like he needed a pencil and pad of paper. It all sounded obvious, but it was the sort of thing he was prone to forgetting. Like how he couldn’t joke with Hummel like he would with Dave. Actually, Hummel probably wasn’t a bad marker to go with. They’d spent a couple of hours hanging out, and Az had mostly managed not to piss the guy off, so if he tried that with Mercedes maybe he’d have some success. Because she was hot, and Az would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested. Even if that interest was only driven by over a year without actual sex.
“Right. So basically do the opposite of what I would with a guy,” he hedged, thinking it all through.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot that deep down beneath all the asshole you’re the flowers and candles type, my bad,” Az said in tone thickly layered with sarcasm. He knew Dave was right, it just wasn’t a point he was going to acknowledge coming from him specifically, considering his sexual habits. It wasn’t something anyone commented on, but it fairly obvious why he occasionally spent the night in town. If only ‘cause the next day he was actually kind of pleasant.
“And, no one is, but like you said, she’s hot, so even if she is lookin’ she could probably aim a little higher up the food chain, dude.”
“Oh, c’mon man. Don’t be like that. You’re… well, you’re not my type, but you’re alright.” Dave said awkwardly, a little unused to complimenting people he wasn’t trying to fuck. And he doubted letting Az know he looked like he’d be good at sucking cock would really go over as a good thing, all things considered.
“Besides, man. She left where ever she came from to join a carnival. I doubt her standards are very high —no offense.”
Az couldn’t help but laugh at Dave’s pathetic attempt at an ego-boost. Then again, very few people that worked here seemed to have much in the way of an ego, besides a few of the performers. Everyone else just sort of… worked. Sure, there was the sense of community or whatever - not that Azimio bought into that - but at the end of the day people were living in trailers or caravans. No one could claim they were living the dream, unless their dream was seriously fucked up.
“None taken,” he grunted, sitting down on the nearest bench, suddenly feeling like the biggest wet blanket ever, “I dunno, man, y’said it yourself, when was the last time I had a girlfriend? I don’t know the first fuckin’ thing about treatin’ a girl right.”
“Pff, man, all chicks. You probably just don’t notice ‘cause you’re busy checkin’ out some dude’s ass,” he joined in with the laughter, wondering if Dave realized the irony of what he said. As much as he didn’t like Hummel, he saw the bonuses of the two of them hanging out as pretty much the same, except instead of knocking Dave out he was pretty good at smacking him down with words. Most of the time, anyway.
“Yeah? And who says she’s looking? You make it sound like I could jus’ walk on up and cop a feel, she’s probably already got herself a fella or some shit.”
Dave balked, choking on his own laughter at the same time. “I didn’t tell you to molest her, dude. Oh my god, no wonder you’re single, if that’s how you approach women.” He hadn’t officially met Mercedes yet, but he’d seen her around enough to know that if Az did try that method he’d probably wind up missing a few teeth.
“And anyway, who says she isn’t looking?” Dave asked, the answer obvious.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot that deep down beneath all the asshole you’re the flowers and candles type, my bad,” Az said in tone thickly layered with sarcasm. He knew Dave was right, it just wasn’t a point he was going to acknowledge coming from him specifically, considering his sexual habits. It wasn’t something anyone commented on, but it fairly obvious why he occasionally spent the night in town. If only ‘cause the next day he was actually kind of pleasant.
“And, no one is, but like you said, she’s hot, so even if she is lookin’ she could probably aim a little higher up the food chain, dude.”
Az fought the urge to throw a wrench in his direction, if only because he’d have to put up with the bitching over making a mess as well as the the bitching about trying to knock him out. Not that both weren’t pluses, but if he missed it’d be his head on a plate, and sometimes he just didn’t have the energy to risk it.
“Fuck you,” he said, grinning, “Chicks dig me. You’re just singling her out ‘cause she’s black, aren’t ya? That’s fuckin’ racist, man.”
“Right. What chicks?” Dave did laugh this time. “And no. I’m not singling her out because she’s black; I’m singling her out because you like tits and she’s got plenty of ‘em. Well, and I don’t think she’d put up with your crap. Actually, I think she might knock you out if you fuck with her, but that’s a bonus for me so try not to piss her off unless I’m around, okay?”
“Pff, man, all chicks. You probably just don’t notice ‘cause you’re busy checkin’ out some dude’s ass,” he joined in with the laughter, wondering if Dave realized the irony of what he said. As much as he didn’t like Hummel, he saw the bonuses of the two of them hanging out as pretty much the same, except instead of knocking Dave out he was pretty good at smacking him down with words. Most of the time, anyway.
“Yeah? And who says she’s looking? You make it sound like I could jus’ walk on up and cop a feel, she’s probably already got herself a fella or some shit.”
Rolling his eyes he bit his tongue to stop him snorting indignantly. Truth be told he’d never had a proper girlfriend since joining the show, and even before then he’d not had much luck in high school. Sure, his jock status had gotten him a few drunken hook ups at parties, but he didn’t consider himself the ‘girlfriend’ type.
“Whatever bro, can’t be helped if no girl here is brave enough to take on the Az-man. ‘sides, all the hot chicks are freaks, and, well, y’know…”
“What, afraid she’s gonna burn your dick off? Please,” Dave bit back a laugh. He knew that, while Dave wasn’t a fan of anyone, Az was a bit more selective with his distaste. Not that he’d bother to call him out on it. “‘Sides, dude. She eats fire. Pretty sure she’s brave enough to take on your stupid ass. Granted, you might scare her off next time you forget to shower.”
Az fought the urge to throw a wrench in his direction, if only because he’d have to put up with the bitching over making a mess as well as the the bitching about trying to knock him out. Not that both weren’t pluses, but if he missed it’d be his head on a plate, and sometimes he just didn’t have the energy to risk it.
“Fuck you,” he said, grinning, “Chicks dig me. You’re just singling her out ‘cause she’s black, aren’t ya? That’s fuckin’ racist, man.”
Azimio should have guessed that the ‘softer’ side of Dave - if he could even call it that - would disappear as soon as it had arrived. Not that it mattered much, at least the guy wasn’t completely retreating into assholedom. Jokes were always a bit hit and miss with him, sometimes he’d laugh his ass off and other times he’d act like you’d just smacked him across the face.
“Sorry man,” he mumbled, before raising his eyebrows, “Y’mean Mercedes? Yeah, she’s a’ight, I guess,” he said, wondering what Dave was getting at.
Dave snorted. “When’s the last time you had a girlfriend, dude?” a little rich, coming from a man who only ever did one night stands with men he’d never see again, but even so. Dave started packing his tools away, perfectly aware that he wasn’t going to get a goddamn thing done, regardless of what he’d planned to do that day. His mind was in too many different places for him to be able to work on anything without a real possibility of him fucking it to hell.
Rolling his eyes he bit his tongue to stop him snorting indignantly. Truth be told he’d never had a proper girlfriend since joining the show, and even before then he’d not had much luck in high school. Sure, his jock status had gotten him a few drunken hook ups at parties, but he didn’t consider himself the ‘girlfriend’ type.
“Whatever bro, can’t be helped if no girl here is brave enough to take on the Az-man. ‘sides, all the hot chicks are freaks, and, well, y’know…”
