Porch swings are fun, or at least that's how Bo remembers them. They even have one, just hasn't gotten around to sitting on it for years, used to love the thing. Still does, or so he thinks, he'd know for sure if he sat on it again, only thing is, to be absolutely certain Luke needs to be sitting on it with him. Knows that look he gets when he pulls his cousin outside with him after dinner, Luke thinks he's dumb. Now, Bo knows he's not the brightest cookie in the batch, but that still doesn't degrade him to the likes of Rosco Coltrane, so Mr. Grumpy over there can just keep that look to himself.
The old wood complains under their shared weight as they sit down, they really should take their time to fix it someday. It's the same as with that outhouse they blew up last year, won't look or feel right without it. Lucky for this here thing it has yet to be downgraded to target practice, too close to the house, can't risk a repeat, they'd be missing part of the wall if that happened. Daisy would probably skin them alive for it too. Then again, Luke's not sure he'd mind all that much if he got to plant a dynamite arrow in his cousin's puffed out chest, might reduce the strutting peacock to something more like a rooster.
The rusty chain groans and squeaks when Bo stops up his long legs on the railing and rocks them back, leaving the rest to gravity. They swing forwards again and the blonde next to him giggles, makes Luke put his feet up against the railing too, pushes them back again earning another giggle, can't help, but chuckle at his cousin's childish glee. It's strange how something so simple can entertain Bo so much. Looses track of how long they sit there, rocking back and forth, but he knows it's been a while when his cousin's inflated head gets comfortable on his shoulder, soft snores filling the night.
Yeah, porch swings are fun, Luke thinks so too.