OOC LOG: HAINE AND BADOU

[collaredstray]

Who: Haine and Badou
What: ...Badou being pathetic and Haine being cheerful
Where: Their flat
Why: Because. We wanted something fluffy.
When: Sometime after they went to visit Kou and before they went to space. So...last week.
Notes: Your characters didn't see this (well...Blue might've), rated R for language.

---

Badou Nails had depth. That is, he could continually find new depths to sink to, new lows that hadn't been explored before. Curled up on the kitchen floor wearing nothing but a pair of mismatched oven mitts was a new low.

He whimpered.

Haine sat on the tiny counter, observing the pathetic lump on the floor. He smiled affectionately at the whimper. "Do you have to be curled up on the floor?" he asked, stretching out a leg to poke the lump with a toe.

The very trenches of Badou's tortured soul heaved up a miserable sound. "S'cold," he whined, half his face smushed against the dirty tiles. His hair was frizzed up frantically in every direction. "Dun' poke me."

Haine sighed. "...you want another oatmeal bath or some aloe or something?"

Another pathetic noise was all Badou could muster. He listlessly rubbed at his itching, flushed neck with a chartreuse and mauve oven mitt.

Haine slid off of the counter and onto the floor. "Stop scratching," he said, laying on the floor next to his partner.

"M'not," moaned Badou, continuing to worry ineffectively at his bitten and burned neck. His eyepatch was askew, and his good eye glazed. "Dun' f'cking feel good, Haine."

Haine bit his lip. "Well I don't know what to do to help you," he said, sadly. "What can I do?"

"Mercy kill," rasped the other man, pulling his bare, bony knees to his chest. "Poison lipgloss on a super model."

"I'm too selfish for that," Haine replied, sprawling out on the tile. "Besides. You'll be fine in no time."

Badou's expression, if one looked past the fever flush, peeling skin, runny eye, and massive amounts of small, maddeningly itchy bites, was quite unconvinced indeed.

Haine couldn't help a small smile. "You look miserable, mein liebe."

"Would you judge me if I started to cry?" Badou asked whimperingly.

Haine fought a wider smile. "Yes. But I wouldn't blame you, and I wouldn't tell anyone."

"You don't even know," whined the redhead, left cheek still mashed against the tile. The statement sorely lacked the z-snap and hip-cock Badou usually put with it. "It feels like my skin has syphill-erpes."

Haine winced. "If it makes you feel any better, imagine how bad my sunburn would be if I couldn't heal as fast as I do."

One watery swamp-green eye glowered at Haine.

"I would be shedding my skin," said Haine, seriously, staring back, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Badou hit Haine. More accurately, he lethargically sort of half-flung his hand at Haine's chest, barely making contact with his mitt. The effort exhausted him enough that he actually sagged after it.

Haine laughed. "Sorry."

"Hate you," came the pitiable mumble. "Lots."

Haine patted Badou's oven-mitted hand. "I hate you too."

"Shoot you inna face," muttered Badou tiredly, wiggling his mitt. Presumably, he was trying to make a gun out of his fingers inside it, not that anyone could actually tell.

Haine snorted. "The mental image of you trying to fire a gun in those oven mitts is fucking hilarious."

"Hhhhh," breathed Badou in what was either a laugh or a death rattle. "Use m'toes. Got bendy toes."

Haine reached out to lightly tickle one of the soles of Badou's feet. "Also a hilarious mental image."

"Hhhhh." The redhead shuffled and squirmed little, scrunching his nose. "Dun' tickle me you assburger."

Haine tickled again. "Why not?"

Badou's long, pale toes wiggled. They were one of few places he had not been burnt raw. "'Cuz I don't feel good," he whinged. "Yer'a cock."

Haine smiled again, rolling closer to Badou on the floor. "You're boring when you're ill."

"Play connect the dots with m'fucking bug bites," the redhead harrumphed.

"I've already played that game with freckles," Haine complained. "Bo-ring." He casually (but carefully) draped an arm over Badou's stomach.

"Play 'Name Things Which Are Red'," sighed Badou, mushing his face more into the cool floor. He felt hot to the touch, Haine's arm sort of sticking to him.

"Your skin!" said Haine happily. "That game never gets old."

Had he been in top form, Badou would have crashed his palm into Haine's face and given him a bloody nose. He then would have laughed, and declared himself the winner of the game, perhaps pantsing Haine for the hell of it.

As it was, he sneezed quietly. Some oatmeal flecked out onto the floor.

Haine snorted. "Attractive." He rolled away from Badou a little and stretched. "But seriously. I'm bored."

"Go jack off."

Haine pretended to think about it for a moment, and then rolled over and up into a standing position. "Hm. Okay." He pretended to head off toward the bedroom.

Badou watched him blearily from the floor.

Haine paused, looking back at Badou. "...I don't think I can do it, knowing you're lying there pathetically on the floor like that," he said, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door.

In a labourous movement, Badou rolled completely onto his face. After a few long moments, he gathered his knees up under him, hissing absently at the sting of his burns. Then, slowly, he arched his back up, raising his rear in the air.

He waggled it.

Haine laughed. "So sexy," he said. "Nice."

"Bow chika bow-bowww," rasped Badou. "Hhhhh."

Haine smiled. "This is just pathetic. There's gotta be something we can do to make you less miserable, mon petit puce."

"No more oatmeal baths," mumbled the redhead sulkily. "M'nose isn't the only place I got hidden breakfast treasure."

Haine frowned. "Well, I didn't know what else to do." He absently traced the lines of his collar. "Maybe a normal bath? I'll wash your hair for you?"

"Too much work. And the towel hurts. Scatchy."

"Pat-dry? I'll carry you to the bathroom," Haine offered, running out of ideas.

"Y'just wanna pat my ass," mumbled Badou.

"Quite possibly," agreed Haine, smirking. "How about the aloe, then? Just aloe."

There was a silence. It was a grumpy silence, but it wasn't a totally unconvinced silence.

"Aloe!" insisted Haine. "It's green and gooey! And cool. And I will apply it." He grinned.

"I hate your happiness," said Badou. "And you."

Haine fake-pouted. "Do you not want me to apply it, then?"

"Apply a foot to your asshole," muttered the redhead.

Haine crossed his arms and huffed. "Or maybe I'll just watch TV instead."

There was another silence. This one's tail, however, was curling under it. Badou slurred something inaudible to the floor. It was an assent.

Haine smiled. "Awesome. Lemme get it." He ran into the bedroom to fetch the bottle of aloe they'd procured from Kou.

Badou crawled halfway to the couch, then gave up and collapsed listlessly on one of Blue's chewtoys. It squeaked. Badou moaned.

Haine laughed at the squeak from the bedroom, then emerged back into the main room, brandishing a small bottle of aloe. "TA DAH!" he said.

Dog drool dripped off Badou's shoulder. "Couuuuch," he bleated, like an injured goat.

Haine took Badou's hand and reached for one of his knees, quickly flipping the other man up onto his shoulders, and then onto the couch, as if he were a ragdoll.

Fwump. "I'm hot."

"Sizzling." Haine sat down gently next to Badou and popped the bottle of aloe open.

"Do I smell like bacon?" Badou scratched at his ribcage with both mitts.

"You smell like smoke," said Haine, smiling. "Like you always do." He pushed Badou's hands away and squirted some aloe into his palm, beginning to rub it gently into Badou's chest.

Badou's mitts relocated to his stomach to scratch ineffectively. He looked groggily at the goop on his chest. "Can you eat it?"

Haine snorted and glanced at the bottle. "It's non-toxic, but I don't think it would taste very good." He moved up to Badou's neck and shoulders, squirting a little more of the goo into his palm.

"Looks like guacamole." Badou's eye half-closed at the spread of the aloe. It cooled his hot, itchy skin to a semi-bearable state. He sunk back into the couch a little, and his hair trailed into the goop on his chest.

Haine absently moved Badou's hair out of the way. "It's a little more neon than guacamole," he observed, aloe-ing the redhead's arms. "Is it helping?"

Badou nodded unsteadily, hair plopping right back into the aloe. "Feels good," he grunted begrudgingly.

Haine grinned. "Good!" He continued gently rubbing the aloe into Badou's burned skin. "You'll need to sit up so I can do your back in a sec."

"Ahuh. Can I take the mittens off?" whined Badou, angry that he couldn't scratch his bellybutton properly. That a bug would bite in there was cruel, and evil.

"No. you still can't scratch," said Haine, motioning that Badou should sit up now.

"I can still punch you in the face with 'em." Shuffling up and turning his back to Haine, Badou raised a baby girl pink oven mitt threateningly.

Haine squirted more aloe into his hand, which made a loud farting noise. "That's what I think of your pink oven mitt," he said, grinning and applying the aloe to Badou's shoulders.

Said shoulders shook with laughter. They then rolled a bit, loosening up under Haine's fingers. Badou's mouth twitched in something that could have be a smile, but was probably just a twitch.

Haine gently massaged the aloe into Badou's back and shoulders. "That's better, right?" he said, still grinning.

"Mmmhm," hummed Badou, leaning back. "S'really good. Nice n' cold n' shit." He slyly started removing his baby girl pink oven mitt. Operation bellybutton scratch was go.

Haine was so distracted by the shifting of the muscles in Badou's back, that he didn't notice the movement of his hand until it had almost reached his bellybutton. "Ah!" he shouted, as if Badou were a bad dog. "No! No scratching!"

"Fuck you! Viva la resisting your bullshit!" Badou's yellowing nails were quick, digging in and scratching hard. "Yyyyyeeeeessss! Ow! Ow! Ahhhhh."

Haine grabbed Badou's wrist and pulled it away from his stomach, replacing the oven mitt. "I swear to god I will duct tape that shit onto your hands."

"I'll duct tape your wiener to an angry stray cat!" wailed Badou, fighting with Haine to wrench the mitt back off. "Fuck this!"

Haine growled. "That bugbite is already bleeding. They're going to get fucking infected, and then you'll be even more ill. So fucking stop scratching."

Badou pouted. There was no other word for it. He had a smear of aloe on his nose.

Haine wiped the aloe from his nose, and on impulse leaned in to kiss it. "Be good," he commanded, focusing again on Badou's back.

"Don't see why I fucking should," grumbled Badou. His face seemed a little more coloured, though it was hard to tell with the fever flush and sunburn. "Ain't gettin' anything out of it."

"What do you want out of it," asked Haine, raising an eyebrow.

"No oatmeal ever getting in my asscrack again."

"I don't know if I can promise that, but I'll do my best," said Haine with a snort.

"And 29 blowjobs," the redhead added.

"Why 29," asked Haine, raising his other eyebrow.

"Because your jaw doesn't get tired," shrugged Badou. He settled back down a bit, tugging at his mitts. The burst of energy had tired him out. "I'm startin' to feel all hot and lame again."

Haine sighed. "Pampering you is only fun for a little while," he decided.

"I missed the pampering?" rasped Badou, looking over his green shoulder with a sad face. "Were there corndogs?"

"Oooh. There should've been. I like corndogs," Haine replied relaxing back into an arm of the sofa.

"Me too." On a whim, Badou craned his neck down, licking his shoulder. He made a face. "It's not as good as the shampoo. Can you rub me some more?"

Haine acquiesced. "It's not for eating." He poured some more aloe into his hand and continued rubbing his partner's back amiably.

"Mm." Badou's head lolled, hanging down in comfort. "Danke," he breathed, barely audible.

Haine nodded. "Es ist nichts, mein liebe," he said, softly.

"Then put your back into it, bitch," rasped Badou, a small grin twitching onto a face that had been sulky for days.

Haine pressed into Badou's back a little to hard in retaliation. "What was that?"

"Hergk," winced Badou, hearing something crack.

Haine winced too, not meaning to push that hard. "Sorry."

Badou blinked stars out of his eye. "Kiss it better."

Haine leaned in and kissed the spot, mostly because he knew that Badou didn't expect him to actually do it. "Better?" he asked, squirting more aloe onto the redhead's back, with another loud farting noise.

Despite himself, Badou laughed, squirming as the wonderful coolness hit his burning back. "You're making it fart on purpose! Are you fucking five?"

Haine grinned. "Yes." He began to rub in the aloe.

Badou sighed again, aiming for condescension but ending up with fondness. He was then still, just enjoying his partner's ministrations.

Haine rubbed in the aloe, firmly, but gently enough that he didn't hurt the other man again. "Good?" he asked.

As Haine's voice broke his semi-trance, Badou grinned. He then scooted back abruptly into Haine, his extremely green back smooshing against the albino's chest.

Haine snorted. "You're all gooey."

"You made me gooey," said Badou happily, with an over the top wink. His mitten scratched at his knee as he turned his head back, pressing his nose into the top of Haine's jaw.

Haine couldn't help but smile, his hand automatically moving to rest at Badou's waist. "I did!"

The redhead laughed, brushing a kiss just under Haine's ear.

Haine smiled, his other hand finding the redhead's waist as well.

Badou leaned back against Haine comfortably, eye shuttering again. He buried his face in the fluffy white hair, breathing in, focusing on Haine and not the stings and burns of his body.

"Creepy huffing?" asked Haine, unable to keep a contented smile off his face.

Badou flushed a bit. "Shut the fuck up. No. Just feels nice on my face."

Haine shook his head lightly. "Yeah?" He tightened his hands at Badou's waist a little.

The redhead chuckled stupidly as the spikes tickled his nose. "Mmhmm."

Haine grinned fondly, wrapping his arms around Badou's middle. He turned his face to nip at the redhead's nose. "Mmmhm," he agreed.

Badou felt his heart speeding up. He blinked his eye open a few times, wondering if the malaria was kicking in and eating his organs, or whatever it did. "Holy shit. Feel this. I think I need'ta lie down or something." He slid one of Haine's hands up over his heart.

Haine felt Badou's heartbeat for a moment, non-eyebrows knitting together in worry. "...how do you feel? What's wrong?"

"I dunno." Picking up on Haine's worry, Badou's panic increased. "I'm itchy and burny and tired and shit but I was feeling really nice and oh my god what if I have bugs in my heart?"

Haine sighed. "...you don't have bugs in your heart, Badou." He placed his hand back over the redhead's heart. "It's just racing."

"Why?" He put his hand over Haine's nervously. "Am I gonna have a fucking heart attack? Christ, we thought it would be the lung cancer all this time but nooo, not like anything should ever make any fucking sense-"

Haine rested his forehead gently on Badou's shoulder. "Does it hurt?"

Badou was quiet for a moment. "Nnnn...o," he said slowly. "It just started going crazy. Like after a really intense makeout session. Or a job. Or a round of women's beach volleyball on TV."

Haine frowned. "But nothing happened."

The redhead shrugged helplessly, hand tightening on Haine's. "We'll tell Dr Spaceface or whatever, I guess."

Haine nuzzled Badou's shoulder. "Does it feel bad?"

"I dunno. Yes. No. It was just weird." Badou felt himself calming down with Haine's touches.

"You okay?" Haine tightened his grip.

"Yes," Badou answered immediately, because he knew very simply he was more than okay in Haine's grasp, in their flat. He couldn't think of a single place he'd feel safer. His heart beat on calmly. "Yah, I'm okay."

Haine sighed. "Okay. Good. Okay. I mean. I knew you were okay."

Badou turned his head to look at Haine, crooked quirked smile coming to his lips. "You shit a brick, no you didn't."

Haine smiled sheepishly. "Shhhhhh."

"Fuckass." Badou's body was lax against Haine's again. "Should wash this goopy shit off and take a nap, maybe, though."

Haine nodded, tightening his arms again. "Bath! Can I wash your hair? It's a mess."

"Knock yourself out Fabio," rasped Badou. He felt his heart jump strangely again, but opted not to say anything this time. Haine would just worry.

Haine grinned. "I need a bath too. You got me all gooey."

"Baby that's how I roll," dismissed Badou, waving a mitten flippantly.

Haine laughed. "Nice. Okay, so, bath? Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you?"

"I don't need to be carried like a little bitch." huffed the taller man, sticking his burnt nose in the air.

"You couldn't get from the kitchen to the couch by yourself."

"I feel a little better now."

"...really?"

Badou nodded, scratching a bit distractedly at his chest, just over his heart.