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 Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 12:37 am
"Wha--" He choked on the cheese dust and covered his mouth, clearly aghast. "N-No, the cake, the cake--oh Gawd--" He started to half-hack, half-laugh.
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 12:46 am
The moment he started choking, her grin plastered on her face and she giggled, rolling off of the beanbag chair to clutch her stomach with both arms. She couldn't stop herself, and her giggles turned into strange, barely breathing. She couldn't stop it, and would probably die in a few minutes.
RIP in peace, Maebe.
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 10:46 pm
Neither of them died that night, though there weren't many better ways to die than laughing and in the company of a good friend, fingers dusted with cheese puffs. At least, to Dawson there weren't. He wheezed and laughed and coughed the snack out of his lungs with more volume than necessary, tired and fed up with his day but feeding off the high they had created. It was only natural for him to respond to a shitty day by trying to outshine it, one way or another.
(He only did so because Maebe laughed first, however. This was still Sensitive, and he wasn't at all eager to tread the line when he knew her current celibacy was important.)
In the end, Maebe stayed the night; she'd made it clear she was even before he suggested it, which coincidentally put the pressure off him again. It was childish, Dawson knew, to be this scared; the whole job was about being scared practically, or fighting that which was scary. But he didn't ask to be there. The best he could do now was try to fit as best he could.
If that meant gifting hats and nearly dying in the ocean to try and power a place almost everyone reviled and being a white knight (whatever that was) and offering stupid puns and a helping hand even past the point of exhaustion and being a meatshield that was struggling to fight against his yellowbellied nature, so be it. A cuddling partner after a long day and before what was feeling like an even longer mission seemed nice compensation after all of that.
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