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 Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2009 9:09 pm
Reed wandered back in, having to share the towel he had. "You can use this towel," he offered, folding it and putting it... well, he was going to put it on the lid of the toilet but he thought twice on that. "I'll just leave it near the sink."
Reed dug around, still very much naked, in a squat into a large milk crate that held the punger and a bunch of bathroom cleansers. He started whistling again and got the toilet bowl disinfectant and the scrub brush. He poured a generous amount of the bleach and citrus smell of the viscous liquid did a little to drown out the smell of Jon's insides. He could swear he smelled cigarettes.
"The curtains were free and come on, don't you love the King? He was a stud, when he wasn't three hundred pounds, anyway. Don't disrespect The King, he might come and haunt you," Reed laughed. "Hell, I'd let him haunt me..."
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Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2009 10:21 pm
Jon just stood beneath the spray and let the water soak into his coarse curls. It felt so good to be rid of that clamminess, like some basic human part of him were being restored. He pushed his bangs back and massaged his scalp. The last thing he wanted to smell like was cheap soap (he really couldn't help himself sometimes, it wasn't his fault he was raised on high end brand names), but it was better than smelling like liquor, cigarettes, and vomit. He pulled a corkscrew curl ramrod straight (marveling that it'd lay past his shoulder blades if straightened) - it was going to dry his hair out more than it already was. Que sera, sera. He lathered up.
"Pass," he quipped, inspecting his tail. He snorted the soap when it ran down his face and coughed, opening his mouth to the spray. Jon rubbed his ears, stopping a short purr before it got too far, or loud. Warm water did so much for his mood, even if there was a war being waged in his head. Who said cats didn't like it?
"You need to be dead to haunt someone and I'm pretty sure I saw him talking to your bird at the bar earlier," he said, washing the shampoo out. "He does a pretty damn good job haunting your bathroom as a shower curtain, though. I think that's quite enough."
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 12:38 pm
Reed blinked, putting the lid of the toilet back down as he stood up.
"Who? You mean Harvey? The guy with the comb over?" Reed laughed. "He always did like the glitter."
He only wished the parrot was his bird, little visions of strolling down his own private island naked like Tarzan with a little hat made of palm tree fronds danced across his thoughts. Reed started whistling again, wandering off to his bed to lay himself down. If Jon wasn't going to pick, he'd pick for them. With a groan of tired muscles and feet, he lay himself face down into his bed and just lay still for a moment.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 1:19 pm
It would have been an awful lie to say that Jon hadn't dozed on his feet. The water soon cooled and he started forward, catching himself against the shower wall and instinctively smacking the water off. He had to recalibrate himself when he pulled the shower curtain back, rubbing his eyes (he never bothered consulting the shower mirror, he looked like hell anyway). Thinking a good ol' puke had cured him, he stepped from the shower and nearly broke his neck when his knees gave out; he caught himself only because of that feline grace.
His hair was going to be a mess in the morning, that lovely fork-in-the-electrical-socket look. Jon sighed and shook off like a dog, head caught beneath the towel as he patted his hair down. Squinting past his tiredness, his headache, and that general feeling of shittiness, he decided back to business! and hitched the towel around his waist, bending to collect his things and fold them meticulously.
"Hey, do you have Tylenol? This headache's pretty --" Jon paused after walking out of the bathroom, things in hand. First of all, he had - in the secrecy of his head - claimed the bed for himself, and second, he had most definitely picked up that charming, albeit wolfish, grin from his client.
"You make it way too easy, Reed."
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 1:29 pm
"Too easy for what?" came a muffled voice from somewhere in the pile of three pancake thin pillows gone flat with wear.
He turned his head for some air and to open his eyes to see Jon. Reed's eyes adjusted back to the light and thought for a moment to figure out where he had left his aspirin.
"I've got..." he forced himself up and off the bed with a groan, as though gravity had tied him down to the bed. Without even thinking his arched his back like a cat and all the bones of his spine gave an accordion's cascade of cracks. "Ooooh, that's nice," he murmured and sat up. "I've got a whole pharmacy in a box... erm. Somewhere..."
He pushed himself to his feet and wandered into the kitchen, stopping by his dresser to pull out some stray boxers. Taking them in his hand as one would a handkerchief, he stumbled along slipping them on as he kicked things around looking for this medicine box.
"I suppose one day I'll get a cabinet. One day," he yawned.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 2:32 pm
Jon cut his eyes away with something he had long since tempered to look like disinterest, while telling himself it was very normal to find the fluidity of his own species' movement attractive. Too tired and delirious to follow, he sat on the edge of Reed's bed combing his fingers through his bangs as he waited. ...And with some wilted air of entitlement too, he had to admit, because now the bed was his and he wasn't about to move. He may have been the smaller feline, but he had a giant migraine and a territorial streak a mile wide.
He shaped a curl around his finger, laid back and stared up at the ceiling. Even what little light there was irritated his eyes, so he pressed his hands over them to block it all out. He tried to go down a list of what was going to be done in the morning (or was it morning already?), but he couldn't get past 'sleep in.' Had he something to do in the morning? His mind was a slate wiped clean; he'd never remember now.
He ground his knuckles into his eyes to get at those stubborn, aching points shooting through his head via his eye sockets, "Maybe you should sell some of that leather, invest in some bare necessities."
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 3:36 pm
"I'm not selling my leather," Reed laughed. "Are you intent on destroying any things of pleasure I own? Take away my leather and you might as well take away the air. Okay, what do you want? Alka-Seltzer? Tylenol Extra Strength? Excedrin Migraine...?"
The rattling of bottles was heard as he hefted the box and brought it into the bedroom.
"Spanish Fly..." he joked. "I'll get you some water."
It must've been the bartender that was hammered into his soul that made him cater to Jon's requests. Jon wasn't exactly a star guest. He wasn't eager for love, he puked in his bathroom, and he insulted his curtains... well, most sane people probably would insult the curtains. It would take more than even a fist fight to discourage Reed, he hoped Jon was prepared for persistence. He knew of many love-hate relationships that lasted for near decades.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 6:37 pm
"Totally and completely," Jon answered, too serious to actually be serious. "I like watching people squirm."
He pushed himself up as far as he could stand to sit up, which ended at him reclining back on his elbows. His head refused to be lifted any further. Taking a chance on his own balance, he lifted his hand to rub his temples. His brow swept up behind the splay of his fingers as Reed ticked off what he had in his miniature pharmacy.
"Think it'd be possible to take them all?" he joked with a snort. "Can't be any more loaded than I am. Was. Whatever. Tylenol will be just fine, unless you have some other hangover-secret-cure, Doc. Christ, even my ears hurt...."
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 7:19 pm
Reed wandered back in with a cleaned out, glass jelly jar filled with water. This one had various Saturday morning cartoon characters slathered all over them. He had picked them up at a garage sale ages ago and had been using them ever since. One dollar for a whole crate of jelly jars meant you didn't have to feel guilty about breaking them. So far, only one had broken in all this time.
"Oh, I like to squirm..." Reed mused. "If there's a safety word involved. I wouldn't recommend mixing these, but there are a million and one hangover cures. None of them are very tasty and some of them are just plain disgusting. I don't trust the raw egg cures, personally."
Reed pushed the box to Jon and let him pick what he wanted for himself. If Jon died of an overdose, he didn't want to be at fault.
"Anyway, I've got two weeks of forced vacation," Reed sighed, his body slumping into a slouch on the bed. He crawled towards the middle again to lie down. "And he goes 'It's paid vacation, so I better not see your skinny butt in here for two weeks! Not even to visit! The parrot will be fine!' That parrot's going to be dead with his poor little feet in the air, I know it..."
He let his head sink into a pillow as though in a slow attempt to smother himself.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 7:51 pm
Jon stared at the jar, wondered just what it was. It was like having a tiny, colorful alien sitting in the palm of his hand because he had honestly never seen a jelly jar before. While garish wasn't the word he was looking for, it was the only word he could come up with, and so he resigned himself to his Saturday morning cartoon fate and popped the cap of the Tylenol off.
"That so?" he questioned dryly, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'll have to keep that in mind."
He tossed two pills back and downed the water, setting the glass down on the floor between his feet when he was finished. An ear tilted back and he twisted towards Reed, tail twitching.
"Forced, paid vacation? Please don't tell me you're complaining," he laughed, wincing and tightening his jaw. His head was throbbing. "You make it sound like it's torture, Reed. If only you had a medicinal cabinet and a different curtain, why, I think I'd trade lives!"
Jon slid back to lie down again. He'd decided earlier that he wasn't too fond of birds after -- what? Waldo? Willy? Whatever, had tried to snap his fingers off. But, deciding to keep his honor, he kept this little detail to himself.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 8:01 pm
"I'm going to be bored to tears," Jon admitted, rolling to his back and tucking his arms behind his head. "I can't afford to go anywhere and the kind of parties they throw around here will have you landed in jail within the week," Reed cracked his shoulders again.
Reed mused over how bad this Blaine guy could really be. Trading lives would be fun if he knew how the hell to be... whatever it was Jon did. Promoter? Circus master? He could be a circus master, he had the whip and all he needed was the chair and megaphone. Reed figured he could at least attempt it for two weeks to ease the boredom, even it meant he was a terrible failure he would still have lived in the lap of luxury for just a little while.
"Is he hot?" Reed gave Jon a sideways glance, smirking.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 8:48 pm
"You should revel in your boredom, just unwind, kick back, relax," he stressed with a sigh, as though living vicariously through Reed's next two, gloriously dull weeks. Jon grinned up at the ceiling, "Maybe you should set aside some emergency cash for bail."
Jon honestly wouldn't mind turning off his phone and Blackberry, falling into anonymity for at least a week. Not have to make calls, schedule appointments, slip in and out of meetings. He wouldn't have to deal with his perpetually disgruntled client, wouldn't have to stay so wired on coffee. Sure, his mother would probably drink herself to ruin (like mother like son?), but hey, he'd be able to cook a full meal without interruption....
He cut his gaze towards Reed, the comfort of his own imagination gone.
"Hell is hot," he said. "A shitty personality doesn't save a person's appearance."
Said the ugly duckling to the veritable swan.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 9:01 pm
"Relax and then what?" Reed shrugged. "Boredom and me, we aren't exactly on speaking terms. I'd love to chill, but it's murder chilling when you know you have no other choice. Somehow knowing you can just up and leave on a whim but don't is a more comforting thought. Like you have options, see? I have no options, I'm stuck here doing laundry for a few days. Clean the apartment, eating crap food for a quarter a pop... at least I get to wear what I want to wear, but... At least I get to see some well dressed people and enjoy wealth by proxy when I'm working."
Reed blinked up at the ceiling and yawned again, stretching his arms out to touch the wall. His bed used to have a headboard, but some wild nights punched so many holes the poor thing was put down and buried. The mattress itself had seen better days. Its springs creaked a little with each shift. The bedsheets were nothing to write home about, either, but they had recently been cleaned. If you were able to tell what the design was, after so many washings, it would have been prints of tigers and bamboo. Now it just looked like someone thought oranges shaped like cats was a good idea. The blankets consisted of an old sleeping bag, unfolded and the zipper still on one side and the other was one of those cheap faux fleece blankets anyone could buy at a convenience store for three bucks in the winter.
"So where do you want to sleep?" Reed tried again, he knew this prince of a man wouldn't really enjoy sleeping on the sofa.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2009 9:19 pm
Jon finally turned his head to look at Reed as he had stared at the jelly jar, if not a bit more humanely. It was clear that he just did not get Reed, like something just wasn't clicking in his head about the guy. Of course, having a taut drum being pounded in the base of his skull wasn't on the assist in figuring people out. Jon pushed himself onto his side and half sat up, staring down at Reed, brows furrowed.
"I don't understand. This is pretty much wealth by proxy. Drinking to liver failure, puking in a stranger's toilet, hell-- sleeping in his bed" - he laughed, confused - "wealth by proxy. That what you want?"
Something in his eyes flickered and that curious smile faded, "I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed, Reed. I think I've done enough."
He shrugged a shoulder, "But I'm not about to get out of it either. Christ, I don't think I could even stand if I tried."
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2009 11:18 am
Reed laughed and shook his head, he gave a smile of defeat.
"I don't exactly get what you want, either, you know," Reed noted. "You'd rather risk a total stranger's shitty apartment than go back to this one guy? This one a*****e who doesn't seem worth all the money he's making. Why don't you just milk that son of a b***h for what he's worth and just leave him?"
He pulled off the medicine box to the floor and laid in his bed, lying back again and staring at the cracks in the ceiling. The tiny light fixture flickered, threatening to kill its bulbs from faulty wiring.
"Take a good long look at what I've got, Jon, a real long look while you're there and can't get up. The real luxury is that you have the choice to get up and walk away from this life and it's like it's going to a movie. When the show is over, you can just walk off and not mind the credits or the fact that there's kids working a s**t summer job to sweep away your popcorn and mop the soda you spilled on the floor."
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