Ray Garraty didn't know he'd ended up walking next to Barkovitch instead of McVries, but here he was.

Barkovitch wasn't looking at him. Garraty wasn't even sure that Barkovitch knew that he wasn't walking by himself anymore – it was night, and Barkovitch was dozing. He looked… helpless, actually. Really, really helpless.

And Garraty didn't feel like having to deal with him when he was fully awake and spitting, so he let him doze. He felt a tug to go and find someone that he enjoyed the company of – McVries, or maybe Baker or even Abraham or Parker – but he stayed where he was. Barkovitch wasn't that bad when he was shutting up and didn't know that you were there.

But nothing gold can stay. Barkovitch nearly tripped and jerked awake, narrowly missing a warning, and he scowled when he saw Garraty. "What the hell are you doing back here?" he asked, and Garraty shrugged.

"Dropped back, I guess," he said. He tried to keep it vague. He didn't want Barkovitch latching onto anything. "Decided that there was no use in trying to find someone else."

"Oh, wow," Barkovitch said. "Should I feel flattered? That you're too lazy to go and find your boyfriend?"

"McVries isn't my boyfriend," Garraty said. It was automatic. He didn't like thinking about that sort of thing. "And you were asleep, so you were okay. You weren't talking or anything."

Barkovitch's scowl deepened. "Right," he muttered. "I was asleep. My mouth was shut, so I was okay."

"That's about it, really."

"Thanks," Barkovitch said, and his voice was so laced with sarcasm that Garraty winced a little. Barkovitch saw that he wasn't moving away and kept talking, words spilling out so fast that he reminded Garraty of an auctioneer. There had been a kid, back at his high school – his name had been Christian Fielding, and he'd always announced all of the kid basketball games. His voice would get faster and faster, and eventually everything was just spilling out, the floodgates had been broken. It had all been completely understandable, but it had always struck Garraty as nothing short of amazing when people could talk that fast. Barkovitch was having some trouble, though.

Garraty had tuned him out after that first sarcastic remark, but now Barkovitch was looking up at him with the scowl still on his face and a slightly questioning quirk to his eyebrows.

Had he answered a question?

Garraty grunted and nodded a little, and Barkovitch rolled his eyes.

"So, you did hear Abraham offer to give Parker a blowjob."

"Wait a second – what?"

"Relax, hick, I was kidding," Barkovitch snapped. "You weren't listening to a single goddam word I was saying, were you? Fuck. Maine's Own is a fucking asshole. Come back here and-"

"This is exactly why I wasn't listening to you," Garraty said. Barkovitch blinked and paused, his mouth still open. "You can't expect anyone to want to listen to you when you talk like that."

"I've already fucked it up," Barkovitch said. He snorted. "No use in playing nice now. It wouldn't even matter at this point. And anyway, you aren't going to be much use once your buddies bite the dust, are you? I get stronger each time one of you dies. Don't you forget it-"

"You'll dance on our graves," Garraty finished. His voice sounded tired to his ears. Well, he was tired. Tired of the walk, tired of talking to Barkovitch, tired of everything. "Well, I wouldn't want to ruin your alone time."

"Wait, no- fuck," Barkovitch said. He sounded about as helpless as he'd looked earlier. Garraty didn't know why he stayed, but he did. And he didn't know why he did the next thing, either – he gave Barkovitch a one-armed hug, one arm curled around his shoulders and crushed Barkovitch's head into his ribs, all while dragging him along and hoping that it wouldn't look like he was choking Barkovitch. Barkovitch made a little squeaking noise and when Garraty let him go he was bright red. "F-fuck."

"Yeah, bye," Garraty said, lengthening his stride and leaving Gary Barkovitch behind him. He'd walk a little bit by himself. He felt in no rush to find someone, to latch onto someone, which was a little strange.

But, well, every guy needs his alone time.

This was requested by a user on Tumblr, who wanted a Garraty/Barkovitch! Writing Barkovitch is like, the best thing in the world. I swear.