Sapientia Et Veritas, Et Non
"Today is born the seventh one
Born of woman the seventh son
And he in turn of a seventh son
He has the power to heal
He has the gift of the second sight
He is the chosen one
So it shall be written
So it shall be done"
You might've guessed it: We are on the 7th prompt post. Hurray!
And although seven is "the most magical number there is", the rules for ( Read more... )
“No, I went home to get one.” He huffed, pulling the item of clothing over his head.
“I see. Well then let's a have lo- ......George, you have a cat.”
“I know. Do you think that it somehow managed to escape my notice??”
“No, but, you have a cat on your jumper.”
“Yes, that's the one I thought you meant.”
“...but you have cat on your jumper...a happy, smiley purple cat...with blue polka dots...on your jumper...”
“Yes, I know I do!!” He shouted shrilly before clapping a hand to his mouth, looking worriedly towards the door to make sure nobody had heard and was likely to come and discover what was going on, before carrying on a in a hurried whisper. “Frances got me it for Christmas three years ago, for some strange demonic reason she thinks they're cute! She found them again the other week and she was really hormonal so I had to tell her I liked it so that she wouldn't try and kill me, and now she's hidden my other jumpers! Here, I brought one for you as well, now put it on so that I won't have to feel stupid on my own!” He pulled another garment out of the bag and flung it at his colleague, who yelped and hit it back across the desk.
“Bring that thing within a metre and a half's range of me ever again, and I swear to god I will make it my personal mission to have you exiled from the country in the most humiliating way possible...Unless of course you manage that yourself with that beastly sweater.”
“...please?”
“Nope, not even hearing you of all people say please would make it worth that monstrosity.” Danny chuckled, standing and walking to the door. “Now, I'm going to go and get coffee, and when I come back, the orange woolly thing will be gone, okay?”
15 minutes later, after what had turned into a very long coffee trip due to him having ended up having to talk to at least 6 different people about things he had already forgotten by the time he returned to the office, Danny opened the door to be greeted by a sudden blast of cold air.
The windows were locked open as wide as they would go, the air conditioning was duct-taped onto it's highest setting, and the door of the lonely, never used mini-fridge sitting in the corner of the room was open, bright light pouring out.
Danny strode towards the appliance, it being the only thing George hadn't made too difficult to fix straight away, and banged the door shut before rounding on his friend, who sat there in his jumper trying to looking nonchalant.
“George, why is it -10 degrees Celsius in here?”
“Because I have a jumper, and you, what with you being the complete opposite to all of us ah, what was it - 'southern lightweights', and not feeling the cold, can obviously survive just fine on your own.” He smirked.
“You're a twat; where's the key for the windows?”
George pretended not to hear him, staring vaguely into the distance in what was probably supposed to be an expression of peace and a complete apathy towards Danny's problems, but came off as would could easily pass as a text book example of the terrifying effects of LSD.
“...Fine. I'll just go carry on working then. Believe me, this isn't near as cold as you like to imagine it is. My only problem is that the amount of energy you are wasting with this is not going to be setting a good example to the public.”
George continued to focus intently upon something that seemingly only he could see.
“...also, you've gone cross-eyed.”
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“...Danny”
“What?” He hissed, trying not to allow the sounds of his teeth knocking together to be heard.
“What the fuck is your arm doing?”
“Same thing it always does.”
“Well it shouldn't always do that.”
“Do what?”
“What do you think?”
Danny looked down the limb in question, which was now most definitely turning a sort of lilac, with fluorescent orange blotches spattered across it. “Surprisingly enough, it's cold.”
“Really? I thought you were perfectly warm.”
“...I am, my skin is just temperature fussy.”
“Sure it is.”
Danny grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his chair and pulled it on, grinning proudly at George, who glared.
“George, for god's sakes, just close the bloody window, if you're that cold, you're gonna have to wear the jumper anyway, might as well wear it and actually benefit from it's warmth.” Danny griped half an hour later to the man sitting and shivering violently opposite him, arms folded tightly about his purple middle. He himself was still feeling the cold rather badly (what with the room being well below 0 degrees and all that) but not nearly as much as his friend.
When George merely stuck his pathetically shivering chin out and pulled his arms tighter around himself , Danny sighed, pushed his chair back and stood up, removing his jacket and pulling on the lurid jumper, the goofy-eyed tiger on his chest gleaming in the weak winter sunlight that streamed in through the open windows as he strode across the room to the other desk, pulling up a chair that had been loitering in the corner and wrapped the other man up in his arms.
George relaxed and leaned sideways into the hug as Danny rubbed his arm gently and pulled him tighter into his chest.
Despite also feeling the effects of the freezing wind blowing into the room, Danny still gave off a lot of warmth and within minutes George had stopped shivering and half sat, half lay with his head nestled underneath the other man's throat and his legs folded up onto Danny's lap.
Hideousness aside, the jumpers were actually incredibly cosy, and George's breathing was slow and his eyes half-lidded when Danny murmured sleepily into his ear “You do know we could just close the windows and switch the air-con off right?”
“...do you want to do that?”
“...No.”
“Didn't think so.”
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Epic indeed, auth-anon! George and the Hideous Christmas Cat Sweaters of Doom!
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