"Like fuck I am," is Cain's cheerful response - for a value of cheerful, as this is Cain and Cain is grumpy and itchy and achy. "I'm drawing myself a bath. There'll be coffee when you get here, but I can't promise it'll taste right with these," he shows his hand to the screen, all tidied up and bandaged.
"I made the rookie mistake of putting ointment on before I thought of coffee, and dammit I hate this."
Sigh. Breathe. It's just the skin. It'll stop burning like fire ants pissed on them soon enough. Swelling will go down too, and his feet will get better. In time.
He gives his friend a slightly more sheepish smile. "It's good to be back, though."
[Visual - Locked]smeckerDecember 14 2011, 23:23:07 UTC
Paul runs fingers through his hair, and remembers after the fact to tap 'locked' on the tablet.
"Fine, alright. Tryyy to hold off on the scrubbing until I'm there to help, you're just going to make yourself worse stretching to reach some of that."
Slight pause. "Yeah, well, I hope you don't go anywhere anytime soon. You're no fun like that."
"Yeah, I'm on my way." Slight pause, Paul hesitating, opening his mouth to say something, shutting it as he heads to grab his coat off a hook and moves for the door.
A second before he ends the transmission he mutters something that sounds like, "just fucking be there when I get there," and then the screen goes to black.
[location - and that's not likely to change anytime soon, so why not skip the brackets for now unless it does?]
Cain ends the feed from his side as well, lips pressed together as he stands there motionless for a moment. Thinking back to their meeting in the forest - and it must have happened the way he remembers it if Paul's reaction's anything to go by. Fucking be there when I get there speaks loud and clear. You don't have to be a cop to get the message.
He pushes himself into action, out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to rinse off the worst of the grime. And then he waits, dressed in a pair of soft drawstring pants simply because buttons just aren't an option right now. There's something he needs to do when Paul walks through that door, and getting into the tub would just...
So, no. He'll wait. He's quite happy to, come to think of it.
Paul heads up the stairwell after a short tram ride, gets to the door and doesn't bother knocking-- he's figured out the hand locks and got himself coded into Wyatt's weeks, no months ago now. He still usually knocks, courtesy, but right now he figures Wyatt probably doesn't want to move much so what the fuck.
He's in the door moving at a speed that is not-quite-a-run, and just manages to come to a stop before bowling Wyatt over.
Wyatt half expected it, half didn't, and finds himself stumbling back half a step to avoid either one of them tripping up. Then he brings his hands up, fingers burrowing into the soft hair at the base of Paul's neck and looks him straight in the eye.
Paul stares back a few seconds, not moving, then nods once, short and jerky.
"Good. Good. That's... good."
He lifts a hand of his own but there's no place on Wyatt's body that doesn't look sore or peeled or cracked, so that hand hovers a bit like an uncertain glance before dropping back down to his side.
"christ--" It is hard to speak when your face is fwumped against somebody's chest.
"I fucking know that, you're mister indestructifuckingble," Paul mutters against Wyatt's chest with considerable testiness. Somewhat belied by the fact that his arms are around Wyatt's waist for a short, hard hug before he pulls back.
"Right, Hallmark moment over, Jesus-shit you look even worse in person, turn around, go, go, tub, come on." Much finger gesturing for Wyatt to obey.
"All right, all right," Wyatt gives, hands up in the air and starts shuffling very carefully towards the bathroom. "First of all, I always finished my vegetables as a boy, and second..."
He looks over his shoulder briefly. "What's a hall mark? I'm guessing it isn't a sign."
Behind the casual facade, he can't help but feel...any number of things, all centered around the hug he got, and how it made everything seem just a bit less bothersome.
Hall mark or not, whatever it means, that wasn't just a good and proper hug.
"I'm sure that you did." Shooing hands, although Paul mentally insists he is not hovering.
"Hallmark is a company that makes, hm, greeting cards, floral arrangements.... they deal in sentiment. Gah, you look like you have frostbite on your fucking shoulders."
Getting there, getting there, one sore step at a time. Inside the bathroom, everything looks the same as always, with the exception of the first aid kit sitting on the counter. It's steamy, but not foggy. Wyatt knows better than to further dry out his skin with hot water.
"I think I've heard it before," he notes, a faint mumble as he gestures for Paul to please do the honors with the tub and the filling thereof. Once was quite enough for him, thanks.
"...right. You said something about my childhood being like one of those cards. I think. I knew it sounded familiar. And as long as the skin hasn't gone white or purple, I'll be fine. I wasn't completely exposed to the elements, you know."
Paul Smecker is of the school that believes any exposure to the elements is a tad fucking much.
"Hallmark, or Norman Rockwell, maybe, more or less the same thing," he grunts as he spins the faucet on and starts filling the tub with water that he adjusts to a lukewarm temperature.
"Just don't do it again, cowboy." Paul scowls a little as he says it, because he knows quite well intellectually that it wasn't Wyatt's idea to do it in the first place and that there is no guarantee here in Taxon that any resolution on Wyatt's part will stop it from happening again, either.
"I won't." Murmured softly as he half pushes, half slides the sweatpants off. He knows he can't make any promises, but that much he can mirror Paul's sentiment. What's to say it couldn't have been much worse than this? What's to say it won't be, next time?
He reaches for the button to transmit, offers a scowl over it which is an expression of worry in Paul-world at any rate.
"Get the fuck back to bed. I'll be over in a bit."
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"I made the rookie mistake of putting ointment on before I thought of coffee, and dammit I hate this."
Sigh. Breathe. It's just the skin. It'll stop burning like fire ants pissed on them soon enough. Swelling will go down too, and his feet will get better. In time.
He gives his friend a slightly more sheepish smile. "It's good to be back, though."
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"Fine, alright. Tryyy to hold off on the scrubbing until I'm there to help, you're just going to make yourself worse stretching to reach some of that."
Slight pause. "Yeah, well, I hope you don't go anywhere anytime soon. You're no fun like that."
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Then he nods, tilting his head to the side for an emphatic nod. "I know. Just get over here, all right?"
This is of course Cain code #34 for 'I missed you too'.
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"Yeah, I'm on my way." Slight pause, Paul hesitating, opening his mouth to say something, shutting it as he heads to grab his coat off a hook and moves for the door.
A second before he ends the transmission he mutters something that sounds like, "just fucking be there when I get there," and then the screen goes to black.
Reply
Cain ends the feed from his side as well, lips pressed together as he stands there motionless for a moment. Thinking back to their meeting in the forest - and it must have happened the way he remembers it if Paul's reaction's anything to go by. Fucking be there when I get there speaks loud and clear. You don't have to be a cop to get the message.
He pushes himself into action, out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to rinse off the worst of the grime. And then he waits, dressed in a pair of soft drawstring pants simply because buttons just aren't an option right now. There's something he needs to do when Paul walks through that door, and getting into the tub would just...
So, no. He'll wait. He's quite happy to, come to think of it.
Reply
He's in the door moving at a speed that is not-quite-a-run, and just manages to come to a stop before bowling Wyatt over.
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"It's me. I'm me."
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"Good. Good. That's... good."
He lifts a hand of his own but there's no place on Wyatt's body that doesn't look sore or peeled or cracked, so that hand hovers a bit like an uncertain glance before dropping back down to his side.
"Come on, let's get you to the tub or some shit."
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"I'm not made of glass, all right? I won't break. I promise."
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"I fucking know that, you're mister indestructifuckingble," Paul mutters against Wyatt's chest with considerable testiness. Somewhat belied by the fact that his arms are around Wyatt's waist for a short, hard hug before he pulls back.
"Right, Hallmark moment over, Jesus-shit you look even worse in person, turn around, go, go, tub, come on." Much finger gesturing for Wyatt to obey.
Reply
He looks over his shoulder briefly. "What's a hall mark? I'm guessing it isn't a sign."
Behind the casual facade, he can't help but feel...any number of things, all centered around the hug he got, and how it made everything seem just a bit less bothersome.
Hall mark or not, whatever it means, that wasn't just a good and proper hug.
It felt like coming home.
Reply
"Hallmark is a company that makes, hm, greeting cards, floral arrangements.... they deal in sentiment. Gah, you look like you have frostbite on your fucking shoulders."
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"I think I've heard it before," he notes, a faint mumble as he gestures for Paul to please do the honors with the tub and the filling thereof. Once was quite enough for him, thanks.
"...right. You said something about my childhood being like one of those cards. I think. I knew it sounded familiar. And as long as the skin hasn't gone white or purple, I'll be fine. I wasn't completely exposed to the elements, you know."
Reply
"Hallmark, or Norman Rockwell, maybe, more or less the same thing," he grunts as he spins the faucet on and starts filling the tub with water that he adjusts to a lukewarm temperature.
"Just don't do it again, cowboy." Paul scowls a little as he says it, because he knows quite well intellectually that it wasn't Wyatt's idea to do it in the first place and that there is no guarantee here in Taxon that any resolution on Wyatt's part will stop it from happening again, either.
Reply
Reply
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