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 Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 7:58 am
Quote: Walking anywhere at night can be risky in Destiny City, but tonight it’s not being attacked by some punk in a strange outfit. The squeaking above you is a dead giveaway that you’re not going to have a good night. Perhaps you remember the flock of bats that swarmed down on Destiny City last year; if you’re lucky, this is your first time being attacked by one. Thankfully it seems like a lone bat has made its way out of whatever cave they’ve moved from, but this thing is giant. It has a six foot wingspan. Does the bat fly away without harassing you? Do you fight it? If it scratches you, you walk away fine, but if it bites you then you can expect a rough time. Being bitten by these bats leaves two small marks that will itch for a few hours. Then, exhaustion and fatigue sets in and you become extremely sensitive to external stimulus; skin feels like it becomes overheated in sunlight, bright lights are painful to the eyes, and smells and sounds can seem overwhelming. The victim will feel constantly cold and hungry, no matter how much they eat or drink. They may also be prone to agitation and bouts of violence. These afflictions may last only a few hours or a few days and then suddenly disappear.
Unfortunately for him that meant that upon arriving in said parking garage he was attacked by a <******** bat as he was on the phone with his needy husband.
"I'm on my way home, Paul," his irritated and exhausted voice carried across the mostly vacant garage, coupled by the echoing of his shoes on the concrete. "I know, time got away from me while working on a case. Just-- enough," he barked, hand on his face rubbing his temples as he tried not to be too irritated with what he assumed was a hangry spouse.
He was supposed to be home four hours ago.
"Order something okay? I'll--- what the ******** is that?" Suddenly the call had ended and the phone clattered to the ground when Noah was forced to use his briefcase as a shield, then as a weapon, when the huge winged thing came flying at him.
Five minutes later and the thing had vamped but not before getting in a good bite on the man's wrist which <******** hurt.
He had collected his phone, ignoring any messages or missed calls and stomped over to his vehicle which he angrily yanked the door open and tossed his s**t inside.
Paul better have ordered something.
Half way home the bite began to itch and by the time he'd gotten to the nice, large house they'd managed to purchase he was scratching at the skin intermittently.
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Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 9:34 am
"He gives me s**t for not checking in, but I'm still the one bitched out when he's the one running late without a head's up."
Paul continued to mutter under his breath as he worked to set the table for dinner. He had half a mind to go ahead and eat it without the other man but christ if he didn't already have enough ******** trouble as it was without Noah being extra bitchy.
Plates were placed on the two settings, then the food was carefully removed from the plastic bags and arranged halfway decently between the two plates. He'd managed to find some local Italian joint - Luigi's or some typical bullshit name like that - on UberEats and it had made it to them in less than twenty. Spaghetti, meatballs and enough garlic bread to feed a small army. Even if the long legged twerp didn't ******** want pasta, Paul knew he would at least feast like a king.
The phone call hadn't ended on the happiest of notes, but he heard the car door slam outside and knew that at least the redhead had come back to him in one piece. Well. Probably, at least.
"Dinner's ready." He called out, voice low and laced with irritation. "Need you to grab the wine from the liquor cabinet though, if you want this to be at least halfassed fancy."
Violet eyes avoided contact with the cabinet in question. That was another argument for another day.
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Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 11:40 am
While he was already in a bad mood because he left late, he was extra irritable because of the ******** itch that wouldn't subside and the skin around the two pronged bite was red and hurt to scratch, yet he was scratching anyway.
He didn't bother to say hello or to even respond to the request.
"Do we still have that anti-itch cream from that time you ended up in poison ivy for a job?" He was busy rolling up his sleeves to look at the bite more carefully to pay attention to whatever food's been spread on the table.
If Paul had remembered correctly, he would have known that Noah liked anything alfredo over spaghetti. Whatever, it was fine.
He had disappeared into the first floor bathroom before he came back out, ointment in hand but it did nothing to alleviate the itchiness. One foot was raised when a wave of exhaustion hit him suddenly and he staggered, falling against the fridge and the tube flying from his hands. "What the ********." It wasn't a question, he was just aghast at his sudden weariness.
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Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 12:08 pm
"My day was fantastic, thanks for asking."
As soon as the sentence left his mouth, he bit the inside of his cheek. Goddamn if he wasn't turning into some ******** sassy-a** housewife at this rate. It didn't seem to matter, though, as Noah had bypassed dinner in general in search of the cream for whatever reason he needed it. Paul didn't pin him to be the kind of PI to go lurking around in the bushes.... but, hey, if it brought in the money, it brought in the money.
He was sitting his hangry a** down at the table when the ginger appeared, only to topple his lanky butt against the nearby fridge with a confusing scuffle.
"The ********, he was already rising from his chair, one hand on the back to shove it away as he stepped towards the clumsy man.
"Are you drunk?"
If he'd spent the last four hours staring at the bottom of a bottle instead of at work like he'd said he was, Paul was going to ******** flip his shi----
s**t. He really was turning into a goddamn housewife.
What. The. ******** class="quote">Nuxaz
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Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 1:32 pm
Nothing seemed to permeate his thoughts the way the accusation did and Noah pushed himself off the fridge and took a clumsy step forward, brow furrowed and hand raise to point threateningly at the man who dare accused him of being a ******** drunk.
"You're ******** kidding me right?" There was no denying the snarl or the agitation. "I'm not a ******** drunk like some people." In fact, the ginger's drinking was minimal at best, a glass of something with dinner or when they were out and he was entertaining his husband's request to catch the latest game at the bar.
There was a goddamn reason the key to the liquor cabinet was on his keys and no where for Paul to easily access.
His wrist was itching and it was pissing him off, so much so that it distracted him from the tirade so he could scratch at the irritated skin. The same skin that was starting to look raw and-- op, there was the blood. Still, stormy eyes looked up sharply to meet purple and he shook his head. "No. I'm not ******** drunk you a*****e." His body swayed and he was forced to catch himself on the nearby counter. "I was at work like I said I was." He would have rather been home making them an actual meal rather than wasting it on shitty takeout.
"Got attacked by some ******** bat on the way to my car. Not exactly feeling hot after the ******** thing bit me."
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Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 3:22 pm
The tension that developed between them was nearly palpable, Paul bracing himself for yet another fight. Maybe he shouldn't have made the drunk comment but christ, the man did look the part, stumbling around the kitchen like he'd made best friends with Jack Daniels himself.
He paused in his snarling to pick at his skin like some meth head junkie, nails digging into the pale flesh and irritating the spot further. The nails that were intentionally longer for a reason and could probably do more damage against open wounds and ---
"Oh for ******** sake, quit scratching at it."
He stepped forward and snatched the man's arm, mindful not to actually touch the broken skin. Lifting it into the light above, he studied the bloody, gross looking mess with narrowed eyes, one arm moving out to add support to the already loopy-walking redhead.
Finally, he grimaced as he turned to look into stormy eyes directly.
"You've probably got ******** rabies or some s**t like that. We should get it checked out before you pick your goddamn hand clean off."
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Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 10:46 am
Noah didn't register the way he was tearing up his skin because he was too focused on how it itched until Paul's voice was cutting across the kitchen. A low growl rumbled from his throat when his arm was yanked away and stormy eyes narrowed further when he say it being examined.
"Let go." He snapped, trying to yank his arm away to no avail.
"Not going to the ******** doctor." Or the instacare. Or anything that remotely resembled a hospital and his spouse would know exactly why his rejection was so violent. "I'm fine." Noah insisted, pointedly ignoring that all signs pointed to the fact that he wasn't.
"Just need to eat, ********." He wretched himself away from his husband and stumbled over to the table where he plopped his butt into a chair and didn't waste time piling food onto his plate. It was a startlingly large portion for a man who ate more like a bird than a wolf.
He also took the opportunity to scratch at his wrist again.
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Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 6:56 pm
He was at least grateful the stubborn ******** managed to make it to the table without falling on his damn face but the fact he was so dismissive of what was already looking like a potential infection was concerning. He always threw a fit if s**t wasn't cleaned and bandaged properly but suddenly he could bring a bleeding, open wound to the table?
....a bleeding, open wound that he was still ******** scratching?
Grunting, Paul made his way out of the kitchen, side-eyeing the amount of food the lanky man had already dished out onto his plate. Noah's appetite was a struggle on a typical day, especially where takeout was concerned. Hm.
Making his way into the guest bathroom, he rummaged through the bottom cabinets until he finally located a decent roll of gauze. Cleaning it would have to come later - his own stomach was angrily thundering at him, demanding to be fed.
Heavy footsteps took him back to the kitchen, where he shoved the empty chair alongside his husband's before unceremoniously dropping himself onto the seat cushion. He reached out to snatch the wounded arm again, his gaze daring the younger man to put up a fight.
"No doctor as long as you quit scratching this, got it?"
The gauze was unfurled, soon wrapping around the bite wound still oozing with blood that was attempting to congeal. He tucked it after looping the arm several times, enough to provide a decent buffer from the suddenly spastic redhead and his eager little fingernails.
Violet eyes dropped to the plate, a single eyebrow rising.
"Since when did you like pasta so ******** much?"
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Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 8:44 am
By the time Paul had returned, Noah had scarfed down half of his plate and replaced what he had eaten with another helping. Right up until his arm was snatched and forcibly bandaged the redhead had been chomping down on a piece of bread and his mouth was too full to protest his husband's words.
So he glowered instead.
Finishing chewing, and swallowing, he was already about to shove another forkful of pasta into his mouth in a manner that almost resembled the way Paul tackled food. He paused right before the meatball could be popped into his mouth and frowned at his spouse. "******** off, I'm hungry."
Into his mouth went the meatball and when that had been chewed and swallowed, he ate another piece of garlic bread. At the rate he was going, if Paul didn't start eating there would be nothing to eat. "Also turn on the damn heat, it's ******** freezing in here."
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Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 10:15 am
Without warning, one large hand moved out and pressed the backside against the ginger's forehead, the older man frowning as he studied his partner's complexion. His skin was surprisingly clammy, considering Paul was almost positive that Noah must have contracted a fever. His chills saved the day - no need for a doctor's visit... yet.
Pushing back the chair, he lumbered over to the thermostat and hiked it up several notches. Paul didn't notice any unusual drafts around the house - hell, it was a comfortable level for him - but if it meant less bitching to deal with, he'd adjust it.
His casual return to the table was interrupted as he noticed the silver shine of the aluminum pan's bottom that the spaghetti had come in. How in the hell had over half of that crap been eaten? He'd ordered enough to serve at least four people!
Well... maybe Noah being hungry was a good thing. Maybe he'd skipped lunch at the office?
Paul struggled to justify the sudden drastic change in the other man's appetite as he lifted his utensils to scrape up a decently sized pile of noodles to plop onto his own plate. The mountain would have been a bit larger in size but it seemed Noah was feeling a bit too ravenous to leave much in the pan after his second round.
"Pass me the bread," he grunted, gesturing towards the... s**t, were there only three breadsticks left? He thought he'd ordered a dozen - what the ******** hell? Had they been stiffed some or could it be possible that...
Glancing at the redhead, Paul stared at the way Noah was shoveling the food into his mouth as if he had a black hole for a stomach.
.... no, he couldn't have.
....could he?
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Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 9:08 pm
When the hand pressed against his forehead, Noah looked up and glared at Paul but didn't seem to slow down on his food intake. For the first time in who knows how long, Noah Jones was starving to the point where he was devouring everything and anything edible on sight. Neither Jones would likely remember when Noah ate even close to the amount he was consuming now and yet, he wasn't feeling any fuller than he'd been when he first started.
That should have been troubling but he was more concerned with the gnawing hunger and the fact that it felt like the air conditioner was on low enough to ice them out.
The bag was handed over with some reluctance, the last of the pasta on his plate having been slurped up. Noah wasn't a messy, sloppy eater usually and yet, he chowed down with the finesse of a grade schooler who was used to fighting for their food if they didn't eat fast enough.
Paul had every right to be alarmed, especially when Noah reached over to dump the rest of the disposable pan's contents onto his plate. Conversation was lacking which allowed the redhead to focus on the feast before him and soon enough, the sound of a metal fork scraping across glassware filled the space where his sloppy chow down had been. It clattered to the plate and he sat back, fingers digging into the napkin that had been original set down by his plate.
Noah had eaten about three quarters of that tray and approximately nine breadsticks. Why was he still hungry?
It was perplexing and he found himself eying Paul's plate. Well, that was a first.
He shivered as he wiped at his face before he stood up, dropping the napkin back on the table before ambling closer to his husband and pulling his chair back with some effort. With newly created space, he plopped himself in the man's lap. "It's ********' cold, did you turn on the heater? Christ, warm me up Pauli, it's freezing and you're unfairly warm."
The act was win-win, he got closer to more food and hopefully some warmth.
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Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 11:56 pm
He watched quietly as the younger man made a feast of their takeout meal, something he'd never seen for as long as he'd known Noah Jones. The only sounds between them were the tear of garlic bread between teeth and the click of utensils against the dinnerware as slender fingers moved the fork at a hurried pace, as if he'd just been told he would never get to eat again.
It was easy to assume that, after three platefuls and way too many goddamn breadsticks, that Noah would have finally had his fill and return to his normal pissy self and not this new, ******** up version.
Well, that is, until Noah rose from the table.
Eyes followed the redhead as he made his way over to where he was sitting. Neither of them said a word as the lankier of the two tugged Paul's chair until the older man relinquished, scooting back and away from his place by a few inches despite the fork still poised in midair.
The sunroom, to him, felt borderline too hot but as freezing cold hands steadied themselves on him, it was clear that Noah was still suffering from the cold.
He moved to shove the forkful of spaghetti into his mouth before letting the fork fall to the plate. One hand roughly began to slide its way up and down his husband's arm while the other kept him supported in his lap.
While Paul was no college graduate like his significant other, he could easily tell by the way the ginger was practically drooling at his plate that the desire for food had not left Noah's mind at all.
Well, s**t.
"Don't you think you've had enough, kiddo?"
Sighing heavily, one hand moved out to offer a breadstick towards the other man. He could have the bread but his pasta was his.
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Posted: Mon Oct 23, 2017 1:14 pm
There were few seats as comfortable as his husband's lap. Nor was there truly a more reassuring feeling than having the man comfortably wrap his arm around his abdomen and use his other hand in an attempt to warm him up. Soft moments like this might have been normal for other healthy couples, but they were fewer and far between when it came to the Joneses.
It didn't matter that their devotion to each other was unquestionable, they were not soft people very often.
He accepted the bread-stick without a word, immediately tearing into the soft garlicky bread. Chewing was rapid and quickly followed by a swallow and more biting and chewing until the piece of food was sufficiently devoured. His stomach grumbled with hunger as if in response to Paul's question and he looked at his husband with a frown.
"I'll eat as much as I ******** want thanks." He didn't care that it was out of character for him, he was hungry. "Did you turn on the ******** heat? Christ it's freezing."
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Posted: Mon Oct 23, 2017 4:53 pm
"Jesus, kiddo, you gotta give it a minute to kick in."
Concern was an understatement for what was beginning to grow in the pits of Paul's seemingly endless stomach. Then again, Noah's appetite apparently rivaled even his garbage disposal of a husband's and if that wasn't alarming, the burly man didn't know what was. The room was already starting to feel stifling - how was it that the ginger wasn't feeling any of the heat?
The fork was touching his lips with another twirl of spaghetti noodles when the loud demand came rumbling from his spouse's stomach. It was awkward enough, trying to keep the lanky ******** warm while eating at the same time, but to know he was staring down at him, his stomach growling inches away from him...
Sigh.
The fork was tossed onto the plate in defeat, the clatter loud and ear ********, whatever. Just eat it, I don't give a ******** anymore."
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2017 8:02 am
Normally, it was Paul who ate everything that remained on Noah's plate because the younger man never seemed to finish anything he didn't make and even then it was a struggle to eat a complete meal. To have him so rapidly devouring so much and not feeling any fuller should have been alarming, and clearly was to his spouse, but instead all he could focus on was the gnawing hunger in his belly.
He didn't wait to be told twice before the rest of what should have been Paul's meal was devoured as quickly as everything else had been.
Noah didn't bother to say thank you and when he was finished, he turned in his husband's lap and seemed to curl all six feet and four inches into it. "It's ******** freezing Paulie." And he was still hungry but there was no food left for him to eat. Snuggling into the burly man appeared to do nothing for his chill and he let out a low whining noise of displeasure.
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