Room 314 - Friday Morning

[rocksthescarf]

The power coming back on had made things a little better for Chuck. It was warm now and he could call Nathaniel to complain about the events of the last few days. Still, the power back on didn't do anything to take away the fact that Chuck's face fucking hurt and so far no amount of ice and weed he used made it feel better. It actually hurt worse

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[decoder_rings]

Hannibal had listened to the radio last night and, while he hadn't gotten beat up, he had had his face smashed so he kinda knew how Chuck felt.

Which is why he was down one floor and knocking on his door. Quietly.

See how polite he could be?

[rocksthescarf]

Chuck eyed the door for a moment and just debated on pretending to be asleep for a moment. Then he rolled his eyes (which he should avoid doing because it fucking hurt), set his glass down on the desk and headed towards the door.

He wasn't so dumb not to ask who it was before opening the door. It could be another Winchester or, worse, Blair.

"What?"

[decoder_rings]

"Well, at least that means you're not dead," Hannibal said, knowing better than to actually laugh.

[rocksthescarf]

Chuck huffed out what could be a laugh and unlocked and opened the door. "Not nearly. But apparently "next time will be worse" or something like that."

He was still surprised by Winchester's flair for the dramatic. Didn't think he had it in him.

[decoder_rings]

"Oh, don't you look pretty," Hannibal said, wincing in sympathy. "He's overcompensating. Definitely."

[rocksthescarf]

"Oh he just has a jealous streak," Chuck said, moving out of the way so Hannibal could come in. "I think he might be afraid that I'll whisk his brother away from him with my charm."

[decoder_rings]

"He wants you for himself?" Hannibal asked, slipping in the room. "How very possessive of him."

[rocksthescarf]

"Either that or he wants his brother for himself," he replied, shutting the door behind him. "Which...would not surprise me in the least."

[decoder_rings]

"Oooh, kinky," Hannibal said and wriggled his fingers. "How much pain are you in?"

[rocksthescarf]

"I'm fine," Chuck lied. His face hurt like hell and we won't even get into how long it took him to recover from the punch to the stomach. "This may come as a shock but I've been punched in the face before."

[decoder_rings]

"Yeah, so have I and it stings like a bitch," he said, allowing himself a smirk now. "At least he didn't break your nose, right? That just fucks everything up. You get in any good shots?"

[rocksthescarf]

"No," Chuck said, walking back over to the desk so he could drink the last of the scotch that was in his glass. He could have probably come up with a good excuse as to why he didn't get a good shots in but he didn't feel like putting in the effort. Chuck was a bad fighter and he knew it.

[decoder_rings]

"Yeah, well, neither did I when Arthur hit me with the freaking stick," Hannibal empathized. "You gonna retaliate at all?"

[rocksthescarf]

"Haven't really thought about it yet. On the one hand, he's really not worth my time and effort," Chuck said. He paused. "On the other, he fucking punched me for talking to his brother."

[decoder_rings]

"Just imagine what he'd have done if you touched his brother," Hannibal said. "I might have been talking to you in the clinic right now."

[rocksthescarf]

"He did feel the need to tell me about his knife collection," Chuck mused. He put the glass down and went to go lean back on the bed. He couldn't help but wince a little at the movement. Getting slammed into a wall a couple of times will do that to you. "Not that I'd actually touch Sam Winchester. I'd like to think I have better taste than that."