fifth_garde | (no subject)

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[He'd drove all night, habitually remembering to drink from the cold flask of cheap coffee he'd picked up from a diner and even more habitually to chew on aspirin. He had to keep the pain in his arm at bay, occasionally it would spasm causing him to jerk the wheel to one side. His eyes were aching, and either that was because of the exhaustion or the emotions which were rattling around in his head, both of which weren't things he was able to take care of right then.

He'd eventually caved in and put on the radio, listening to some random popular music station so he wasn't left with just his own thoughts. He didn't exactly enjoy the music but it was better than utter silence, every now and again he'd press a wad of napkins against his temple, which had crusted over but wasn't entirely finished bleeding yet.

Finally reaching the town he'd left Owen in earlier that day, or actually the day before considering it was now five in the morning, he could've simply ran but he'd either end up running into a wall or phasing half way through one and winding up dead.

He parked the car in the same car park he'd left the BMW and transfers the chest from one trunk to the other, after all he'd rather ditch Al's car for the stolen motor, regardless of the convenience of having a car with actual insurance papers.

Finally he drags himself into the corridors of the hotel, it seeming deadly quiet for the fact it was so early, he vaguely remembers Owen's room number having only seen it once before and slumps against the doorframe, tapping lightly on it and hoping Owen would hear.]

Owen? 's me... I mean, Five, y'there?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm not even surprised. Just shut the kitchen door when you're making it so the smell doesn't all end up through the house.

Edited 2011-08-10 22:16 (UTC)

Honestly? You'll have t'get used to the smell. I'll just carry cups into your room in the mornin' or somethin'.

Not the... brewing smell, though, that's worse.

Brewin' smell? [Gives you a look as if to say, god you're weird.]

Yes. It's like normal coffee but worse.

I'm sure I'll get over it eventually.

Y'should do, 'm not givin' up coffee. Regardless of how good y'are in bed.

I would never ask you to choose between me and coffee so long as you never ask me to choose between you and tea.

'S a good thing 'm not the kind t'force people into bad situations. [He'd totally choose the coffee.]

[Owen would choose Jason! ...Although possibly nothing would win out over books or magic...]

Really.

Well I mean I might force y'up against somethin' in public, but 'm not about t'give you an ultimatum.

[Okay, maybe there were alternatives to coffee.. maybe...]

That's a whole different story.

...Which is not a good idea.

[He'd never make him choose, don't worry. ...Although he will politely request the kitchen door be shut for the brewing. At least he knows better than to suggest instant?]

Edited 2011-08-11 02:48 (UTC)

[Hey Five can be lazy sometimes, instant isn't so bad...]

Mhm, but these're just kinks we'll have t'work out.

...I'm not sure the club lounge is the best place to discuss your kinks, darling.

[But since their flight is being called, that's a good cue to move locations.]

Y'know what I mean. 'n you call me a smartass. [He grumbles, picking up his bag and stalking after Owen.]

I'm pretty sure I never at any point indicated that I wasn't also a smartass...

Yeah, yeah. Jus' move it.

Is that supposed to be some sort of order?

Oh believe me, if I start givin' orders you'll know. [He smirks a cocky smirk.] 'n somethin' tells me you'll be itchin' t'take 'em.

[The blushing is back, and this time with a vengeance.]

What did I just say about a time and a place?

You started it.

[Petulant Five is petulant.]

Not intentionally...!

That wasn't supposed to be--

You know. Sexual.

Oh yeah? Soon you'll realise 's all sexual, always, all the time.

[Okay well not really, he wasn't a messed up nympho.]

...Duly noted.

[He's seriously hoping no one thinks he's a drug smuggler as he hands over his passport and ticket to the girl at the check-in counter, or that there's anything suspicious about his very pink cheeks.]

[He hands over his own things, smiling charmingly because no-one would ever suspect a face like that.]

Lookin' a little flush there.

That's because some git seems to get off on making me blush.

[Hissing emphatically while still whispering is a difficult skill, but having spent much of his time in libraries, Owen has duly mastered it.]