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 Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:47 am
They’d arrived mid-morning, after spending the evening in some shitty hotel off the side of the highway. There hadn’t been time to bother with a proper breakfast, just some crappy coffee and stale bagels from the gas station they’d swung by on their way back onto the interstate.
Just him, Noah, the expensive as hell moving van (that had somehow still managed to cost an arm and a leg for being the broken down piece of crap that it was) and his baby towed behind it. Noah had been the driver - Paul was the so-called navigator who left most of the navigating to the bitchy automated voice of the GPS they'd used. He preferred to nap, boots kicked up on the dashboard as he tilted a worn out baseball cap over his eyes. The older man by approximately four-ish years had justified his laziness as conservation of energy, knowing he’d be held responsible for dragging in most of the boxes that continued to rattle in the back of the van. Music crackled through the van’s shitty speakers while Noah had nursed a cigarette, wisps of smoke curling up in the cabin before being sucked out the open crack in the window.
It had taken nearly thirty minutes to bring in the boxes, sweat collecting on his forehead and throughout his scalp as he’d worked on toting them in, one by one (and sometimes two, depending on the contents) into the abode that was much larger than the dinky little apartment they’d used to call home. Somehow he’d managed to shed his shirt between box number fifteen and sixteen, left in nothing but a wife beater that clung to his chest and a pair of jeans that felt twice as heavy, thanks to the heat of the summer and the weight of the boxes.
The one labeled towels made a softer thud against the pyramid of boxes he’d already begun in the living room, no rhyme or reason to his ordering. Organization wasn’t his responsibility - no, that job belonged to the redhead who was still loitering in the kitchen, doing ******** knew what.
“That’s the last of it, I think.”
Not that the little ******** had offered to help.
His gaze cast around the living room where a humble couch and coffee table sat. What had filled up the living room in the old place was dwarfed by the sheer size of the room now - he grumbled at the idea of having to go furniture shopping just to make up for all the empty space that was swallowing their meager possessions. Shopping was ********’ stupid.
“You gonna start workin’ your homemaker magic and let me sit around, now?”
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:49 am
Noah had been moving boxes into the kitchen and carefully opening them to observe the contents before contemplating where to arrange them before finally doing just that. He also took care to break down every box as he finished putting them away, a careful stack piled into one of the larger boxes that he had already cared to put away. Halfway through putting away all of their plates, he heard Paul bitching in the living room.
“Bout ********’ time,” he replied, tone somehow sharp and lazy at the same time. “Kitchen’s half done.” Gray eyes flicked over to the room he’d come from and the small collection of boxes still piled on the floating island.
“I have been, if you paid attention to anything going on around you,” Noah quipped dryly, struggling to keep from rolling his eyes at his companion. His companion, whose shirt was clinging to his body in a nice, attractive sort of way. Diverting his gaze quickly Noah shrugged at him before making his way back into the kitchen.
“Do whatever you ******** want.” A hand was waved dismissively as he returned to his box and finished putting away their dish set. “Figure out what you want to eat. I’m not bothering with groceries so there won’t be any cooking.” He was exhausted as is, cranky too because ******** he hated long drives.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:51 am
He was stretching his arms up, working the tired ache from the muscles as the tall redhead decided to grace him with an appearance from the kitchen doorway. His voice gave away his own exhaustion, but Paul didn’t miss the way that stormy grey eyes studied his form before averting their gaze entirely to the stack of boxes beside him.
A lopsided grin spread across his unshaven face as one eyebrow crooked its way up, watching the younger man make his way back into the kitchen as he dismissively announced that he wouldn’t be offering his services in the kitchen for the evening.
“I did see a cozy little bar around the corner, y’know.”
Paul knew better than to suggest going out, but sometimes he just liked toeing the line when he could. The dark haired man was slow in following after his counterpart, pausing at the door’s frame to lean against the wooden panel with one bare shoulder. “Then again, that’d probably require a shower. Too much effort, getting cleaned up for a night out. Maybe chinese, pizza. Whatever sounds good to you - I ain’t the picky one.”
Poking at a cranky Noah was akin to toying with death or wrestling with a grizzly bear or a great white. You knew better than to do it, but the temptation was always there. Well, at least for him, it was.
He stood there for a few minutes, watching the irritated man continue to pull things out of the newest box he was in the midst of conquering. Ensuring that he was messing with dish rags and less-than-lethal items, he pushed off from the door frame and sauntered his way behind his partner, allowing his hip to gently bump into the backside of the other as he passed by.
Dropping his elbows onto the island, he leaned over the granite countertop and continued to watch as the other man worked, not really giving two shits one way or another of where any of the items were actually going. After a few more bored moments, he twisted around until he was using the island to support his lower back as he stared up at the ceiling. His voice lowered, but the comment remained idle and nonchalant as he said, “You’d better unpack the bedroom next, if you’re going to keep giving me looks like that.”
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:53 am
“Don’t feel like going out.” Noah replied tersely, barely glancing up from his box when his companion joined him in the kitchen. “If you get piss-a** drunk, you’re on your own.” Only then did his gaze flick up, warning in his voice. Clearly, for all his faux-disinterest, the redhead disapproved of even entertaining such a thought.
There was too much unpacking to do and it was an unspoken agreement that they would be spending their first night in their new home together. If Paul felt like ******** off, then he would find himself in the serious doghouse, if not out on the street. <********’ told you to pick something.” Silverware was shoved angrily into the drawer after the tray had been found and placed inside. “You know what I like. For ******** sakes, Paul, do I have to do everything that requires half a brain?” Long fingers stopped organizing the different sized forks and he gripped at the countertop instead, breathing in and out to calm himself.
Slamming the drawer shut, he began irritably putting towels into the one beneath it just as Paul felt it necessary to bump him. While Noah didn’t swear at him, there were several curses dropped beneath his breath when he glanced over his shoulder at his unfairly attractive partner.
“Wasn’t lookin’ atcha any which way Paulie.” Noah wasn’t looking at him at all as if it was proving some secret point. “The state of the house determines if you’re getting lucky tonight, so maybe you oughta make yourself useful.” Towels and oven mitts put away, he moved on to the next box. Spices.
He spent longer than needed staring at a container of rosemary before he set it back in the box and turned, arms braced on either side of the counter behind him. “Gonna take a smoke break, you comin’ out with me?”
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:54 am
Paul knew better, but he laughed anyways. It was easier to laugh off the irritation than to return the favor with his own grumpy attitude, especially when Noah was taking digs at his intelligence. The older man knew he wasn’t up to snuff with college boy here, but he could certainly work his way around a phone and make a dinner order.
“I’ll order takeout then. Later.”
His response was lazy - when was it not? - as hands gripped the countertop behind him. “Nothing like a proper guy’s kind of dinner for a first night.”
He’d had Chinese too, the first night he’d sat in the empty apartment by himself. It had been Noah-free at the time, just him, a few dollars left in his pocket after first month’s rent had been shelled out and a handful of boxes that had been worth taking from Mom’s old place. Life had seemed bleak back then and that was without the nightly thumps and shouts that went on with his underly-friendly neighbors.
Who’d have thought times would have changed like they did?
The scruffy looking man snorted at the implication that he’d need to unpack things to get what he wanted, eyes shifting to watch the taller man. While Noah could deny staring at his partner, Paul had no problem letting the obvious be known. He liked looking at him - he even made spice rack organizing look sinfully attractive, go ********’ figure.
Being invited on a smoke break caught him by surprise, though, his face showing the evidence.
He had half a mind to point out that loitering in the backyard would prevent him from unpacking things - but he could only push around the grumpy man so long before he’d finally snap and call things a night. Paul wasn’t ready for the night to be over with - just yet.
“Yeah, I’ll join.” Pushing off from the counter, he made his way towards the sliding glass door that led out onto the back yard patio. “I wanna check out this backyard you kept babbling on about and s**t.”
While he didn’t give two ******** about a garden, the excitement in Noah’s voice over making a proper plot had been (dare he say it) adorable. Paul just refused to admit it - out loud, at least. Couldn’t let the little ******** know he’d gone soft over stupid s**t like that.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:55 am
“Look at you, figuring out something for yourself for once.” Noah sneered, snatching his smokes off the counter and making his way towards the door that lead to an impressive backyard.
A fence kept them segregated from their neighbors - thank god - with a nice backyard patio space that led to, one of Noah’s personal features, a decent sized lap-style pool and then there was grass and yard that stretched up a far ways out that would make for the perfect garden space.
Truthfully, it was the backyard that had sold Noah on the house, despite the killer price for so much space.
Stone steps lead onto the patio and the tall man took a seat on one, back pressing against the glass of the unopened door. It was hot, almost muggy and he regretted stepping outside until he fished a cigarette from the carton and slid it between his lips keeping ahold of it by his teeth. The lighter was retrieved next and he was in the process of lighting his smoke when Paul stepped out of house with him.
Stormy eyes took in the empty pool and the backyard he couldn’t wait to get the supplies for. It was a bit late to start trying to grow anything, because of the weather. Noah at least wanted to get it ready for next year.
“We should fill the pool first,” he commented as he took a drag, wisps of smoke slipping from his lips as he exhaled. “I’m itching to swim. Haven’t been able to since before we moved into that last place.”
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:57 am
It didn’t take long for the smell of nicotine and smoke to fill the air around the patio, a familiar scent among a world of strange and unknown as Paul closed the glass door behind him. The odor was actually comforting, in a messed up, ******** up kind of way. Maybe the little a*****e would lay off of him once he polished off the cancer stick - who the ******** knew, when it came to Noah Jones.
“We meaning me, you mean,” Paul was quick to correct as his hands dug their way into his pockets, shuffling forward as he stared out into the space of the backyard. Even with the pool, it was a giant b*****d of a backyard. Something his mother had always imagined for her family. Something she could never afford on her meager income - dreams and hopes didn’t put food on the table or second-hand clothes on her kids’ backs.
Honestly, he never thought he’d amount to much more, himself.
His boot gently scuffed against one of the stones. “I’ll work on it in the morning. Prolly gotta read up on doctoring it up and s**t. Y’know, chlorine and all that crap.”
Maybe he’d let Noah do it, give him some reading material to work on in between boxes.
Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath. Aside from the cigarette burning, the air was fresh, clean. There were birds singing and the occasional cricket chirp as the evening hours set in - not a single car honk or door slam to be found. They were free from New York and the clutches the city had on them. Memories, good and bad, were tucked away in the back of their minds while they entered the newest chapter in their lives, running away from the old.
“It’s too ********’ hot.”
Turning on his heels, he snorted as he made his way back into the sanctuary of the air conditioned house, muttering under his breath as he slid the door open and passed inside, “Can’t believe you ********’ domesticated us.”
His phone was retrieved from his back pocket and he flipped through some of the brochures their real estate agent had left out for the two men, conveniently fanned out on one of the marble countertops, along with a congrats on your new house standard welcome bullshit nuts and lightbulbs basket. Guess she didn’t expect either of them to know how to cook or something. Well, she was at least half right.
Glancing over his shoulder towards the patio and the open door leading out to it, he called out, “You want egg rolls this time or nah?”
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 8:58 am
Ashes fell from his smoke to the pavement beneath them. <********,” he growled, managing to sound pissed off and bored at the same time, but that was Noah Jones for you. “As long as there’s not like mold and s**t, we’ll be fine.” Swimming had once been a daily part of his routine that he had lost during his college years and graduation had quickly approached. The prospect of having a place to swim at his leisure instead of having to deal with crying brats was too good to pass up.
His cigarette was only half smoked when Paul stood and announced that it was too warm outside and left him.
Noah didn’t miss the grumble. “You ******** complaining Paulie?” He made sure to drawl the man’s name when he glanced over his shoulder at the ruggedly handsome man. “Better than any of the shitholes you picked. At least now I’ve got a place I can go to escape your sorry a**.”
Stress of moving was definitely catching up on the redhead and his crankiness was apparent. <******** surprise me.” Noah shouted back, ashing the smoke on the heel of his shoes before dropping the butt in the bin he made sure to drag out for his smoking needs. “You should know what I like by now, christ Paul,” he snapped once he made it back through the door and it clicked shut behind him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger he exhaled slowly. “Sorry. Got a headache I can’t shake.” He managed to force himself to apologize as he came to stand beside his companion, arm sliding across his waist.
“You like being domesticated with me.” Lips brushed the man’s neck as he spoke.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:01 am
It was Paul’s turn to roll his eyes as he heard the nickname being called out - dragged out, even - from the other side of the open glass door. He refused to turn around and give him any satisfaction at seeing his irritated look - Noah did always seem to enjoy crawling beneath his skin and festering a home there. So instead of a retort, he punched in the restaurant’s number and held the old Samsung 4 up to his ear, glaring at the microwave across from him.
He could hear Noah complaining with his free ear as the dial tone rang in his occupied one. Fine, if he wanted to be a little ********, he wouldn’t get any kind of roll. See if he tried being nice, next time.
(He would ask, next time too.)
(He would always end up asking.)
Paul was in the middle of ordering their dinner when he heard the backdoor click shut. Violet colored eyes were doing their best to try to concentrate on the menu in front of him instead of whatever bullshit Noah was probably getting on to him about now. Maybe it was about packing. Maybe it was about his terrible choices in pretty much everything. Maybe it was his simple existence, standing there in the kitchen and wasting space. It was a dealer’s choice of anything goes when it came to what target Noah would pick to call him out on.
So when the arm slid behind him and wrapped around his waist, his request for additional fried rice was interrupted, words fumbling as Paul was clearly caught off guard. The lips against his throat forced him to suck in a breath and the exhale was slow and ragged at best as the older man worked to finish his request so he could hang up the goddamn phone before he ended up dropping it.
The total was given as well as the estimate for delivery - Paul had never hung up a phone so quickly or harshly before, his thumb smashing the call - end button before shoving the phone back into the depths of his pocket.
“I was on the phone, y’know.”
Not that Noah clearly cared. Hell, not that Paul would have cared, had the situation been reversed.
Still, his head turned and he tilted his head to chase the lips kissing his tired, sweaty skin. It seemed a rare moment of tenderness, a kiss between biting words, and Paul wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity to take advantage of it for himself.
“Gonna go unpack the bedroom, then?” He asked as he drew back, unable to stop himself from smirking in the process. Feeling generous, he offered, “I can work on one of the other ones in the meantime, even.”
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:01 am
Noah busied himself with leaving a mark on the flesh of the man’s throat while Paul tried to finish the order. When he complained, the redhead shrugged, fingertips pressing into jean covered hips. “So what?” He exhaled, right against the shell of the man’s ear. “You never wait until it’s convenient, why the ******** should I?”
Anything else was swallowed by the kiss.
Unlike his partner, Noah didn’t seem nearly as generous or light feeling, a throbbing pain in his temple as he looked at his companion. “If the bedroom gets unpacked, I’m taking a goddamned nap.” A nap sounded ******** delightful and quite possibly the only remedy for his lingering headache.
Outside of maybe caffeine, but there was too much s**t to do to bother running out for any. So, Noah would suffer as would Paul.
The kitchen was mostly done, the bookcases were up against a wall with the book boxes stacked nearby and he knew that he didn’t have it in him to work on arranging them just the way he liked it. That could wait for another day which left the spare bedroom, of which the thought had him smirking because of what they had agreed it’s purpose would be, OR the bathroom and master bedroom.
“Fine, I’ll be upstairs, I guess.” He didn’t sound thrilled about having to go through their clothing and towels and other s**t. Almost reluctantly, his hand slid across Paul’s stomach and away, with the redhead taking long strides towards the stairs where he stopped and looked his companion up and down.
“When you’re done, don’t bother showering.” With that, he had disappeared up the stairs.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:04 am
One hand rose to rub against his neck, the spot Noah left behind both wet and tingling. The tall redhead made the exasperated announcement that he'd do as requested, but with the intention of napping afterwards instead of…well, other things. Disappointing, but hell, maybe he'd be less of an angry pissant after a catnap.
The hand teasingly dragged itself across Paul’s midsection and he found his gaze dropping down to follow the long, nimble fingers as the other man took his leave from the room. The staircase was within view and the dark haired man continued to stare after him, up until Noah’s pause and curt demand.
All it took were those six words to have his nostrils flaring and the hand on the countertop gripping the edge. Okay, well, maybe he'd been wrong about his assumption.
There had been a reason why he hadn't offered to assist with unpacking the boxes upstairs. Sure, it made sense to speed things up by having two people go at it as opposed to one, but he also knew the risk that came with unpacking certain rooms while certain unsated needs had yet to be met in almost a week. Over a week? ********, he couldn't even recall….wait, yep, four days. Four long ********’ days.
Pushing off the side of the counter, he worked to distract himself by unpacking the downstairs bathroom, making his way over to the room with an uncomfortable gait. The decor was void - they didn't have much to begin - but that was because they'd never owned a place with two bathrooms before. Look at them, real ********’ adults and everything now.
Towels were tossed here and there, curtain rings placed on the rod without a curtain (yet another bullshit expense to worry about) and the cheap dispensers that hadn't made it into the main bathroom’s box made cozy homes at the secondary bathroom’s sink. Noah would no doubt find issue with his design skills (or lack thereof) and would fix it...but that was his problem, not Paul’s.
On to the next section to conquer.
He'd been unpacking books into stacks when the doorbell finally rang. Honestly, it probably did him a favor that dinner had arrived - he couldn't remember if the prissy man preferred his books arranged by color, size or alphabet anyhow. No sense in screwing something else up, right?
The delivery boy was handed a twenty and told to keep the change. A bigger tip than Paul normally gave but ********, all things considered, he was in a goddamn good mood. A couple leftover bottles of water from Noah’s prepacked supply for the trip joined the plastic bag of Chinese cuisine and Paul ascended the stairs, taking two at a time with a grin on his face.
“Grub’s here, sleeping beauty.” He hip-checked the bedroom door completely open as he unceremoniously made his appearance in the doorway, “I dunno how well eating this kind of crap in bed’ll work but it ain't my job to figure that sort of s**t out, now is it?”
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:05 am
Noah had started with the bathroom upon entering the master bedroom upstairs. The room itself was nearly the size of their last apartment and the idea nearly made him laugh bitterly. Sure, they had gotten one hell of a deal on the large home, but thinking about the days spent back in New York were a mixture of bittersweet. Cramped and tight quarters wouldn’t be missed, but the redhead would be lying if he said that he was completely glad to leave that state behind.
For all of the bad, some good things had come of it and now, he and Paul were making the first big strides towards a new life together. To Noah, that was the most important thing about the move and housing purchase.
Meticulously, like all things that he did, Noah unpacked the master bath. Towels were hung and arranged on the racks and the excess were tucked away into proper cubbies for use when the main set was sullied. Soap was placed next to the faucet as were a cup for rinsing and the tooth brush/tooth paste holder. In the drawers went the first aid kit, excess bandages and wraps, Q-tips, spare toiletries and anything else he deemed fit for the space.
From there, he busied himself unpacking the rest of the bedroom, starting first with the dresser and their clothing. His was put away neatly and properly arranged. Paul’s things however, weren’t arranged with nearly enough care and by the end of it, half of the things were shoved in without care.
Anything labeled bedroom 2 was merely moved into the spare bedroom on the second floor and abandoned. That would have to be unpacked at a later time, unless he wanted absolutely nothing else to be done for the day. Instead, he turned his attention to making the bed, pulling out his favored bed set to fix the bed with. Each sheet and blanket was pulled until they laid flat and straight, exactly to his liking and the pillows quickly joined them.
Once the bed was made, the man changed into a pair of loose basketball shorts and he laid atop the comforter for a nap, shirtless.
Which was exactly how Paul would find him when dinner arrived. It took Noah longer to stir than it should have, dreariness from sleep clinging to him far too long.
A sleepy grin appeared on his face for half a second before he was scowling. “No food in bed, you know that a*****e.” Long legs draped over the side of the bed and Noah paused to stretch his arms out before standing. “I’m coming down, gimme a sec.” He waved his hand at his companion dismissively as he ambled over to the dresser to pull out a shirt.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:06 am
He stood by the bed and looked down, bag in one hand and two bottles in the other as Noah took his time waking up. Paul didn’t bother repeating himself, choosing instead to enjoy the view as the sleepy redhead slowly roused himself from his afternoon slumber. Had the food not been hot and his stomach growling from the fact he hadn’t eaten in hours, he might have dropped it all and taken advantage of the sight in front of him.
Fortunately (or unfortunately?), Noah woke up and the smile that lit his face practically had Paul swallowing his own tongue. It was there and then it was gone, the younger man’s temper from earlier quickly restoring itself as he snapped at Paul for even suggesting the notion of bringing food up to the bedroom. Ah well, the moment was cute while it had lasted.
“Hey, ********’ sue me if I thought a new start could mean a couple of new rules.”
Paul knew the argument with the perfectionist was weak, so he wasted no time in turning tail and making his way back down the stairs (but not before getting a nice, long glance at the stretching Noah was working on). The bag swished by his side until it was rehomed on the kitchen countertop, where he began hurriedly removing carton after carton, setting them alongside each other until the plastic bag was emptied completely. Only then did he begin to open each cardboard box, fingers dipping in here and there to taste test their dinner.
Not terribly bad, as far as cheap take-out went.
Plates were located (why couldn’t they get paper, again?) and brought to the kitchen’s island and forks joined them shortly after. It didn’t take long for the older Jones to make a mountain of food on his designated plate, mixing and piling all of the available options as he covered the fried rice he’d dumped initially on the dish to begin with.
Leaning over the countertop, shoulders hunched down as his fork stabbed the mountain of Chinese, drawing back a healthy sized portion before delivering it to his mouth. The view of the backyard from where he stood was spectacular, save for the fact he was staring out into a barren wasteland of a backyard and an empty swimming pool.
Sigh.
There was so much still left to be done and all Paul Jones wanted to do was take a shower and hit the sack. Or something like that. Yeah.
So instead, he did the only thing he could think of: he continued eating.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:09 am
“No food in bed has never been up for debate,” Noah called after his fleeing partner.
A shirt was pulled overhead, fingers caring through messy red locks that he didn’t care to style or properly fix. Strands were likely sticking up every which way, but they were semi-smoothed out by the time he made it down the stairs and back into the kitchen. Sleep had helped to take an edge off of his headache, but it still lingered with a present throbbing he tried to ignore.
Gray eyes took in the collection of food that Paul had picked out and he hummed a low approval, making a point to linger by the older man’s side and let his hand glide across his back when he passed. Noah arranged his plate in a neater manner than the other man with less food as well, but that wasn’t surprising.
When it came down to it, Noah always ate less. Especially when it was take out because that was always filled with gunk he didn’t care for even if the food itself was delicious.
Taking a seat across from his companion, Noah effectively blocked his nice view of the outdoors and all the work they’d have to put in before the weather went to s**t. He didn’t want to think about all of the additional work they had to do in the upcoming week and would have prefered to look at the attractive view right in front of him.
A piece of chicken was speared by his fork and he popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
“We did good, Paulie,” he praised, casting his gaze around the mostly put together kitchen. They needed to buy somethings for it sure, since it was twice maybe three times the size of their last one, but it was pretty well put together and he was pleased.
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:11 am
Noah’s hum alerted Paul of his entrance into the kitchen, giving him barely a moment of warning before he felt the hand press against his backside. As it shifted, the older man sucked in a breath and nearly choked on his rice - god ******** damn it, he knew what touching him did to him!
He stared very hard at his plate while the hand passed, willing his fingers to stay glued to the fork they held. It wouldn’t do either of them good for him to lose control and cleaning up a half a dozen spilled take-out boxes from off the floor wasn’t an ideal way to spend the afternoon either.
It was only as Noah moved to the safety of the other side of the island, mounting up on one of the bar stools, that Paul found it safe to exhale again, his fork resuming its digging as he stirred around the pile of food on his plate.
“Those are my shorts, you know.” Of course he knew. He always knew. Yet, Paul still felt the need to point it out just because.
He chewed slowly on the next bite of food as Noah settled into his seat. His plate looked downright puny in comparison to his own, but he was at least eating, so Paul wouldn’t give him s**t for that. Pizza (or anything else take-out, honestly) would probably have his nose turning up so he was at least grateful the shrimp was bothering with a plate to begin with.
“Yeah.” The praise didn’t go unnoticed - clearly he was in better spirits than he’d been prior to his short-lived nap. There was still a helluva lot of work to do, though, and Paul wasn’t about to kid himself that they’d accomplished anything but a fraction - maybe a fourth - of what all needed to be unpacked.
“How’s your head?”
His eyes moved up from the plate in front of him to the redhead poised above it. “Feeling any better, kiddo?”
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