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Daniel wandered about, in and out of the bathroom, which Bell didn't really mind. He was already washed and just about ready to get out when Daniel stepped in. Waste cake? That was a new one.
"Call me names or ask for favors, not both," Bell complained, but picked up the soap anyways. "You're a regular peeping Tom, ain't'cha? Didn't know I was performing for an audience, I woulda put more flare in." He grabbed Daniel's shoulders and spun him around, only barely resisting the urge to plant a kiss at the back of his neck. This wasn't Landon, like he had to keep reminding himself. He couldn't be affectionate like he was with Landon.
And besides, touching his neck right now was probably a no-go.
Sobered by the thought, he started working his hands down Daniel's back, enjoying it no less for it not being Landon in that body at the moment. The purpling bruise that was developing around his neck kept catching Bell's eyes, drawing him in. He'd really fucked up this time. Daniel had passed out. If it had been Landon, he probably wouldn't have been able to touch the guy for a week.
"There you go," he said, moving to slap his ass but holding back at the last second and kind of swatting the air instead. No touching! Earlier could be excused for him being drunk or hungover, but now was different. Touching was off limits. But a back massage was platonic, right? Plenty of friends gave each other massages.
In the shower? Naked? Bell twisted his lips. Okay, so that had been a bit not-so-platonic. But whatever. He hadn't kissed, and he hadn't touched anything important.
"Do mine?" he asked, turning Daniel back around. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it wasn't exactly platonic, but his back was really sore after lying on a Daniel-shaped mattress and springing straight up out of bed--though maybe he couldn't really complain about that one, when he'd done it to up and throttle Daniel.
They'd wasted most of the day hungover, and there wasn't really much to do tonight aside from eat and sleep. If Landon had been there, they might have had another activity available, but not with Daniel. How long would it be until Daniel went away? Bell swallowed. Did he even want Daniel to leave right now? Landon would freak out over the bruise that Daniel seemed to be taking pretty well. But how long would it take to heal? Longer than he wanted to resume abstinence, that was for sure. Bell rubbed his forehead tiredly. He'd gotten himself into a right bind this time, and no mistake.
Picking up some of the wet clothes, Daniel found some hangers in their ironically unused closet and began to hang them up, coughing a little bit meanwhile. Daniel's throat felt like it was still being squeezed shut. Bothersome. When he finally came across something dry however, it didn't pass a sniff-test and Daniel made a pile of 'to-wash' stuff before finding a robe and covering himself at least a little. It wasn't particularly cold in the room, but Daniel still managed to cool off too much for comfort.
Stretching stiff muscles, Daniel finally found some fresh clothes in Landon's duffel and put them out. Okay, so it wouldn't suffice to get them both completely dressed, but at least one of them...did they really want to split the party again? Well, he wasn't Lenny, so it'd be fine. Actually, perhaps they could get some room-service.
Entering the bathroom without any scruples, Daniel got Lenny's wallet and checked the water-logged contents. One side was mostly dry, due to the towels it'd been tossed on. Taking the phone as well, Daniel padded back to the room, upped the temperature and put the phone on the vents. It'd have to properly dry.
So mundane. Daniel cleared their table and started taking out the things in the wallet. Most of the notes were still soggy. The plastic could just be wiped down. All receipts were tossed.
Shit, Lenny had a new card.
He didn't know the number of that one.
"Shit," Daniel muttered, counting the cash.
Plenty for a laundry-run, some break --dinner, some dinner, and maybe even more booze, aspirin or even painkillers. Propping his head up on one hand, Daniel wished they had some painkillers now. His head was killing him, never mind that his throat felt like it was swelling up. It'd no doubt bruise. Bell hadn't caught on that fast this time around.
Lenny'd be so pissed.
The noise from the shower could still be heard and Daniel pushed up to stand, shuffling over, ditching the robe half-way.
"Make some room, waste-cake," Daniel told Bellwether, climbing in next to the man. The water was so delightfully warm. Unlike before, the water wasn't scalding to his skin, but comfortably warming up muscles and washing away some of the ever-present tension.
"Can't you massage my back? 's nice when you do that," Daniel said with pleading eyes, batting his eyelashes.
Daniel took it with a joke--a stark contrast to Landon, and though somewhat reassuring, a bit annoying. Didn't he get that Bell had almost killed him? This wasn't the time to joke! He should--hit Bell or something. Be angry. But it was Bell who'd choked him, so did he really have any right to say what Daniel's reaction [i should] be? And at least he didn't have to walk on eggshells around him like this.
He made a face when Daniel kissed his cheek and wiped it of tears again. "Shut up," he muttered. So what if he cared? If he killed Landon by accident, Landon was still dead.
He looked down at himself as Daniel pushed off and stood, and only then realized he was naked. When had that happened? Oh right, he'd been hot earlier, and then...well, at least he hadn't taken his pants off in Jim's room. Bell raised his arm and took a sniff, then made a face. Ugh, jeez, he smelled awful. Shower, then clothes for sure. Heaving himself upright, he started towards the bathroom, walking over the strewn clothes. It looked like they'd had wild sex, from the way clothes were thrown all over the place, but really, that was the one thing they hadn't done. He sighed and pulled the shower curtain back.
The tub was still full, the water cold now and murky, dirty. They hadn't drained it last night? But then again, he'd been drunk and Daniel had been half frozen to death. It wasn't really that surprising, all told. He watched the dirty water spiral down, waited until it was gone to turn on the shower, then stepped inside. Daniel wasn't Landon, so he'd rather bathe by himself, last night notwithstanding. It felt strangely empty in the shower on his own; he'd already gotten used to it being a group activity. He made a face at nothing. He wanted Landon back already.
The hot water pounded away at his skull and made some progress in washing away what was left of the headache. His body, too, appreciated the hot water, aches and pains he hadn't even felt earlier unwinding. He was going to just stay in the shower forever, he decided. He felt so nice and warm, and he couldn't hurt anyone in here. Especially not Landon.
Once Bell's hands released Daniel's throat, he unconsciously gasped for air, finally achieving what had been so constricted before. Daniel faintly felt himself being shifted, body limp in Bellwether's grip. So he hadn't died. Kind of disappointing, really. It wasn't long before Daniel's eyelids fluttered back open, coughs escaping his lungs in sore attempts at clearing his wind-pipe, while yeah, crushed wind-pipe was hard to clear. Crushed was an exaggeration, if anything, but Daniel found it fitting.
Air never tasted quite as sweet.
Slumping back in Bell's arms, Daniel rested and caught his breath.
"Morning to you too, sunshine," Daniel managed hoarsely.
One hand lifted to rub at the sore skin around his neck -how was he going to explain that one, huh? They had kinky sex? His boy-friend enjoyed choking him, because he was a nuisance?
"I get that you like silence, but this is overstating your point," Daniel spluttered, sitting up a bit more once he realized they were both naked, on the floor -though it was plush- and cold.
Lifting his gaze towards Bell, Daniel's gaze turned into an unexpected array of emotion. Was Bell...crying? Over his sorry ass?
Now that was a good joke!
Slinging one arm over Bellwether's shoulder awkwardly, Daniel grinned and pulled himself up a little more, kissing the man's salty cheek.
"See? You care," he whispered.
Taking in another deep breath, Daniel shook his head to clear it and then chuckled. High on lack of oxygen -it didn't last very long, and that was just as well. He felt like shit now; headache, hungover, fragile stomach and now some nice throttle-marks to add to the misery. At least they had the fortune of adding the last after he'd thrown up whatever rotting contents still swam in his stomach.
"Okay we need clothes," Daniel said. "I won't be able to take you seriously otherwise," he offered as an excuse and frankly, they were both overdue some soap. Putting a hand to Bell's shoulder, Daniel pushed up and stood, experimentally picking up a few articles of clothing here and there. Most of the sopping wet stuff from before was still soggy, and the rest was worn. Weren't there more clothes? Maybe another set of nice clothes in Lenny's duffel.
The man didn't fight, but just stared at him, grinned, even. What the fuck? Grinned? Did he want to die? A hand brushed over his chest, and Bell shivered, memory quivering, remembering something important--
Under his hands, the man went limp, unconscious. Bell's hands only tightened. He wasn't dead yet. He had to finish the job, or else. It was a waste, though, really. He had such pretty blonde hair. Such...pretty...
Bell released his grip and jumped back, hit his head against the bed and stared, wide-eyed, at Landon's limp form. No. No, no, no, he hadn't, he hadn't, he--he couldn't have. He was shaking, his whole body shivering, hands visibly quivering. No--not again! Not again, damn it!
He rose to hands and knees, crawled beside Landon, and delicately, gently, felt for a pulse above the red ligature marks. There was nothing. Nothing at all. He gulped, tears burning their way up his throat. No, no, no, no, please no, this couldn't be, this couldn't be happening--
Desperate, he pushed harder. He needed to find a pulse. Needed something. Landon had to be alive. Landon had to be.
There--sluggish, a bit slow, a bit weak--but there it was. A pulse. Bell breathed again, relieved, and drew Landon up into his arms, hugging him even as he drooped in Bell's arms, unconscious. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, tears dripping down his face; he wiped them off, sniffed hard and swallowed them down. Now was not the time to cry. But he'd almost killed Landon, again. Again! He was dangerous. He only ever hurt Landon.
Maybe he should just leave. Disappear and never come back. That...that was sure to be better for Landon. Then he wouldn't have to worry about goats, or about Bell, about anything strange or scary or deadly. Then he'd be safe.
But then Bell would have to leave him behind. And he didn't want that. He was selfish like that; he loved Landon, and he didn't want to leave him. Head bowed, eyes open, he held Landon and waited for him to wake up, afraid to fall asleep himself in fear that he'd forget again, hurt Landon again.
Wow. The world twisted and turned sharply, a scramble was had and Daniel landed on his back with a thud, back of the head bouncing on the plush carpet. For a moment Daniel was dazed, hands barely raised in defence, when Bell's hands wrapped around his throat. Oh, this man had issues. And they thought Lenny was bad. Blinking rapidly couldn't prevent the sudden pain and lack of air.
"Fu...." 'Bell', Daniel tried, but didn't get beyond mouthing the words.
Not this again.
Hadn't Lenny been throttled back when he'd asked something or other -wait, Bellwether's fucking real name? For once Landon's paranoia served them both. Talking with Bell about personal matters was apparently a trigger. They had to somehow get past this.
There were two choices here: wait for Bell to realize and recall where he was and two: kick the man in the nuts. Despite Landon having promised to do the latter next time Bellwether tried to choke them to death, Daniel held back. Instead, he relaxed, grinning, gasping to try and breathe past the restriction and barely managing.
There wasn't enough air, but that gave him a fairly nice high. Dying wasn't so bad after all. Bellwether-goat was going to come save him, undoubtedly. That'd be a nice change of pace too. Yeah, dying and then rescued, birthing a small little goat and be transcended as well. The picture painted itself in black and greying blotches dancing across Daniel's vision.
One hand reached up to Bell, barely brushing the man's chest like Lenny liked to do, but then the arm sagged, lifelessly dropping to the floor. His eyes rolled back and Daniel lost consciousness. Bliss, really, mercy in a way, not having to deal with the hangover and maybe even sleeping a little more than the measly few hours he'd gotten.
Ah, such a shame, he hadn't even been able to tell Bell about Robert or anything else, really. Or had he tried to do that last night? Disjointed thoughts crossed through Daniel's mind for a second; famous last words? He couldn't think of any. Maybe he ought to have said 'good morning', just for the sake of posterity.
Hands. Hands, touching him, grabbing at his limbs and dragging him down, down into darkness, and his only light was her, her darkness so black it seemed bright. She had his heart.
"Give it back!" he shouted, angry, and fought, struggling away from the hands and towards her, even as she reached out towards him. Landon's guise had been abandoned; she was as he remembered her again. She embraced him and drew him in, and he could see his heart, beating there beside hers.
"See, you're where you belong. Aren't you happy?" she asked.
It was peaceful, then, a hill overlooking their school. Bell paused, taking it in, looking around him. A single shady tree stood behind him, its bark rough against his back. The leaves underneath were dry, crunchy, remnants of last fall remaining even as this year's fall rolled in. This looked familiar, somehow, though he couldn't say--
"We used to hide up here," she told him. "We could see everything and no one could see us."
She was lying splayed on the ground, hair strewn, eyes big and bloodshot, mouth gaping. And then he was there with her, hands around her neck, closing, tightening. "It's where you met me," s she continued, voice even and calm even as the girl beneath his hands bucked and choked, face turning red, then purple, then--horrifically--black, and she knocked him back with a backhanded blow. Bell scrambled back, ran, legs pumping, and the goat chased him. Almost playfully, it followed, as he ran and ran and ran, into the woods, crashing through trees and undergrowth, collecting scratches on his arms and legs, falling and skinning his knees.
"I couldn't catch you," she said, but her voice tilted oddly, as though it were a question. And then it pitched up, enraged. [i "I couldn't catch you!"]
He was shaken awake, a hand running possessively though his hair, and he lashed out, toppling his attacker off the bed, then following him down, landing on hands and knees over the stranger. A mug of water bounced on the carpet, spilling into the bland pile. His hands found the man's throat and tightened, cutting off air. Where was he? Who was this? What was going on?
As expected, sleep didn't last particularly long, and Daniel blinked owlishly at the room. Still here. Yes! Still here. Fuck, still here. Daniel felt his stomach do a one-eighty and swallowed down some acid. Worse than before, he felt like something had run him over. Groaning at the discomfort, Daniel pressed his head a little deeper into the pillows and felt how Bell moved close beside him. Apparently the man was having a bad dream and had shifted away unconsciously. Making it cold. Bastard.
Pushing up a little, Daniel didn't get much further than kneeling on the bed with his face stuck in a pillow, but finally reached out an arm and heaved himself to an unsteady stand. First order of business: heaves. Unlike Bellwether, Daniel aimed for the toilet-bowl, and had to admit there wasn't much at all to throw up which wasn't already acrid liquid. With both hands set against the wall he fought to stay standing, sort of aiming at the bowl.
Hotel personnel were going to love them, that much was for sure.
"Fuck," Daniel groaned as it seemed he was done and finally just took a piss. Oh, he was naked? That was pretty convenient, if not cold.
Rinsing out the taste of vomit, Daniel tried for some water, slowly and only when he was reasonably sure the world was done doing loops and spins did he enter the bedroom. Second order of business, what time was it?
Opening the curtains revealed a faded evening, heavy clouds reflecting the orange street-lanterns back down. Turning around, Daniel caught Bellwether in the throws of a nightmare
"Bell-boy!" Daniel said loudly, then grimaced, "stop day-dreaming already," he started, shaking the man's shoulder and put down the water.
Yesterday had been...interesting to say the least. Was it yesterday?
Jim and Thomas, that much Daniel remembered. And then things got a bit blurry, up until where he recalled Bell tossing his cookies in a bin and it being cold. Actually, it was fucking cold, but there were clothes strewn all around and it was too much effort to see what was dry, clean and or dirty.
There'd been a talk about personal stuff though, hadn't there? Something about a chick.
Sitting down next to Bell on the bed, Daniel sipped some more of the water and ruffled Bell's mop of hair.
Bell snorted. "No." He'd been what, fourteen, fifteen? Oh, plenty of people started that young, but he hadn't had any kind of a drive yet. He had still been a child. And utterly unattracted to women, then as ever.
So Landon had that kind of a past, huh? He wouldn't have suspected it at all, though he should've known [i something] had triggered Daniel's emergence. He petted Daniel's hair comfortingly and let him slip off to sleep without a comment. What did he say? What was he supposed to say? Should he say anything? He really didn't know. His childhood really hadn't been bad. Oh, there were things, fights, little spats, but nothing serious. It was only after the goat had shown up--only after he'd been born--that things got fucked up. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so bad to have been rejected by an abusive family. Maybe it would have hurt worse.
But now they knew about each other, just a little. He sighed and shifted just a little, trying hard not to get stiff, both when it came to muscles and other parts. He should've stayed above the sheets if he'd wanted to stay completely faithful to Landon, but...he was more worried about Landon's health than about their relationship, quite frankly. And this way the shivers had stopped, at least.
He wasn't really tired, but lying still and not thinking about what he was lying on got boring, and the pounding headache made sleep rapidly more appealing. Combined with the sickly heat of Landon's body, it made a powerful sleep potion, and before he knew it, he dropped off.
She was waiting for him, like he'd known she would be. Nothing like talking about her to bring her back up. Almost coquettishly, she traced fingers down his chest; he pulled away, only to find he was bound in place, held completely still.
"You're mine," she breathed. "Mine, only mine."
"No," he replied, pulling at the bindings. "No, not now, not ever!"
"Then...am I nothing to you?" she asked, hurt, head tilted. From the raised side of her head, blood rushed down, staining her hair red and soaking into the crevices of her face. "But I was your first. Don't you love me?"
"No! Get back!" he snapped, pulling harder.
"What if I looked like him?" she asked, and suddenly Landon stood in her place, stood as she had stood. "That's all you want, right? To have a man to hold. Did I scare you away from women? But don't worry, I can accommodate you." Fingertips brushed his face like Landon never would, and when she kissed him, forcing her tongue through his lips, she tasted wrong. "I can take you however you like. Who else can say that? Don't you love me?"
"No!" he shouted.
Her face contorted, the blood turning to black, flesh sloughing off to reveal leathery skin beneath. Black hands shoved their way into his ribcage and closed around his heart, and he grabbed them, tried to push them away, but she was too strong, too impossibly strong. "See, I have your heart," she sang mockingly, and the hand closed.
Bell cried out, a single note of pure terror and pain, and then there was black.
"Things..." Daniel slurred sleep-drunkenly. Bellwether was that much warmer underneath the sheets, pressed up against him like that. At any other time Daniel might've gotten a stiff one and they'd gotten things on, but frankly, Daniel was about ready to cave to a pinky-promise. The shivers had stopped, though Daniel found he had trouble just keeping his eyes open because of the heat.
Bell's nudge was met with a flailing hand, signalling Daniel was still alive and awake, mostly anyway.
"D'you f'ck 'er?" he asked thickly, halfway asleep already.
Daniel supposed Bellwether would've turned towards the girl, had gotten scared of her being a goat and then -something obviously happened. Knowing America had gotten too hot under the feet for Bell to stay, Daniel could only conclude the man either killed a woman or a goat.
Landon would likely be mortified, but Daniel sighed out, thinking of a story.
Clumsily scratching his head, Daniel bought some time to think.
"Lenny's boring 'cause he wan's to be," Daniel started out, clearing his throat a little. The headache was becoming oppressive. Why couldn't they get room-service to deliver a couple of Advil?
"I know what you're thinking, numbers always numbers, but they're secure, you know?" Daniel said softly, sluggishly as he tried to articulate while burrowed half-way into the pillow with Bellwether's weight on his back.
"Lenny's head's not right," Daniel pointed at his own skull, "'cause of our dad."
Mom had been alright. Regina always managed to calm him down enough to let Landon back out. Same with Ivy. Bellwether wasn't quite there yet.
"'s a drinker, used to hit our little sister -did you know we had one? I say had, cause she broke off with the family," Daniel slurred, trying to stay awake.
"'s good for 'er," he added.
Landon kept in touch with Regina, but the woman had ultimately chosen her alcoholic husband and so the meetings were always awkward.
"First thing I remember 's beating up the old man," Daniel said with a satisfied grin. "Fu'ker."
Landon had probably stepped in between at some point. Things had gotten aggressive and however shit worked in a fucked up mind did: Daniel was a thing. As far as Daniel knew there weren't any others, except for the occasional imaginary friend when Landon was younger.
"Things got shitty af'er that," he muttered sleepily.
"Shittier," Daniel added as an afterthought.
"Hmm, Bell-boy, 'm tired," he pleaded for sleep. The headache was getting worse too and Daniel was fairly sure that if he didn't sleep now, it'd be another trip to the toilet, for something other than bladder-control.
"I--" Bell stopped. What, didn't care? Wasn't worried about Landon? It wasn't true. He cared a lot, but...if Landon didn't care back, then...
But wait, Landon had gone out searching for Bell? That was why he was outside? But then...he had to care, right? There'd be no point in looking for someone you didn't care about. Daniel was just trying to cause trouble, that was all. Had to be. He didn't want to believe it.
"I don't know," he muttered, a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature going down his back. What if Landon hadn't turned back? What if he'd just disappeared into the night? He probably wouldn't have survived, and drunk as he'd been, Bell wouldn't have found him. Not until morning, anyways, and that would've been too late. He hugged Landon closer through the sheets, not caring that he was Daniel right now, and buried his face into the nook between neck and shoulder. Daniel still smelled like Landon, if there was a heavy perfume of alcohol over the usual scent. He needed to be more careful. He couldn't just do his own thing anymore; now he had to watch over Landon, too.
Daniel's appreciative moan broke through his momentary trance, and he released him. Right, this wasn't Landon. He couldn't be so affectionate. He almost backed off entirely, but Daniel's shiver stopped him short, and he drew closer instead. Daniel or not, this was still Landon's body, and if Daniel got sick and died, Landon went with him. He would use the goat's blood long before that, Bell resolved, but even so, he had to care for Daniel as though he were Landon.
He hadn't asked anything either? Hardly. He'd asked about the woman, about Robert, about Daniel ad nauseum--all the people in Landon's life. But not Landon himself, he supposed. But it was hard! Where would he start? What would he say?
Daniel's request was unexpected. Was he trying to cause trouble, or help them out? Bell gave him a bit of a suspicious look, but then sighed and hooked his pinky anyways. He was doing what Bell had asked for, so wasn't that enough? And besides, if this meant he'd settle down to sleep and finally get some rest, Bell would bite regardless.
"Something about myself," he muttered. Where the hell did he start? His childhood was out; those memories were fake anyways. But some of them were good, he supposed. He cleared his throat. "Once, in middle school, this girl had a crush on me. I didn't notice; I was probably gay already, I just didn't know it. Um, but she followed me everywhere. Sat next to me in every class. We were best friends."
It was getting a bit cold on top of the sheets, now. Bell hesitated a moment, then pulled them back and slipped beneath, again lying on top of Daniel but with nothing between them now. It didn't matter. It was Landon's body, right? And the body was fever-hot, twitching with shivers even under the covers, even with Bell pressed up against him. It only took a few seconds for Bell to overheat, but he didn't climb back out. Landon needed his warmth right now.
"And anyways...so when I found out, when--I guess when I became a goat, or...or when this me was born, I...I started seeing them everywhere. People like me. I was scared and alone, I didn't know how to survive on the streets but I couldn't go home either, because the--the real me, I guess--was waiting for me. And...I was closest to her, so...I..."
He huffed and closed his eyes, hiding his face into Landon's back. He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell Daniel. Maybe Landon, if Landon ever gave a shit, but...but that wasn't going to happen. "Anyways, things happened, and I ended up on the road. The end."
Bell nudged Daniel gently, unable to tell from this angle if he was asleep or not. "Your turn. Tell me a story," he said.
"Can't shut it off," Daniel replied with a faint shrug at having experienced Bellwether fucking Lenny as well. Bellwether laughed, but the reply was feisty and this in turn made Daniel laugh. So the man was a little sensitive about these things, huh?
"You care, you so care," Daniel almost sing-sang. "Not like you care 'bout Lenny neither, Bell-boy," he continued with a chuckle. "You care just about enough to get sloshed and let Lenny kill himself searching out there for you, cause you left in fuck-all clothes and wouldn't leave the hotel; won't take a wizard or a psychotic to make the leap that you may have run into Robert at some point, since you'd been gone for hours."
Actually being with Bellwether was bad for Lenny's health overall. Only the goat was any good. The two almost balanced one another out. Landon did love Bell, but Daniel was more concerned with self-preservation than kindling a love-story.
Daniel grinned, "what would you've done without me, huh?" Would Landon really have drowned then? It wouldn't have been such a strange conclusion to draw. Even if Landon had the sanity of mind to get out of the water onto the darkness-infested shores, he would've picked a very different route to get back to the hotel. A dangerous route. Hypothermia would've been a genuine concern then.
Bellwether was so quick to believe Daniel when he said Landon didn't care, it was almost reverse psychology. Maybe at first that'd been the division: an escape, and Landon probably admitted that at some point too. Daniel took in a deep breath. Bell was warm against him regardless of the blankets between them and he moaned in appreciation.
"You never asked shit either, Bell-boy; asking me is apparently easier than asking poor ol' Lenny," Daniel muttered drowsily. His temperature was rising, fever flushing Daniel's cheeks. A headache started brewing behind his temples; the hangover was approaching in earnest, fun.
They either needed pills or more liquor, neither of which were going to happen while being pinned down, but not being pinned down wasn't as comfortably warm. Another shiver tore through Daniel's back and he sighed out heavily.
"Tell me something 'bout yourself then," Daniel mumbled drowsily, "bed-time story? Promise to sleep after," he raised a pinky.
Bell groaned and turned towards Daniel so he could see him roll his eyes. Yesterday had been a fiasco without having to explain it to someone else, too. "Lay off, I barely fuckin' consented yesterday," he snapped. "That was weird, it was bad, and it's not happening again."
Answered his question, though. And ewww. "Pervert," he accused Daniel.
Whether Landon would be pissed was up to him, huh? "So he doesn't like it," he concluded aloud. Well, he could go without. It wasn't as though he were really desperate right now; if anything, the opposite was true. Sex would be difficult and tiring, and likely aggravate his headache; as awful as Daniel looked, he doubted the other man would be up for doing the work.
He laughed. Sometimes Daniel was a little too obvious. "I already know he doesn't give a fuck about me. You think I didn't notice? He hasn't asked a single damn question about me 'n he actively avoids my past. It's blatant. I'm the in-flight entertainment on his escape from the boring life of an office worker, and that's all. Sooner or later I'll get sick of playing the fuckboy to his sugar daddy, and then I'll disappear. At least the perks are nice," he said, his voice scathing.
He'd been afraid of it, but...it wasn't like he hadn't been aware. Or maybe he'd been hoping it really wasn't the case, that at the end of it all Landon really did care about him as much as he cared about Landon. But Daniel would know, better than Landon himself, perhaps. Landon didn't care, and...well, it hurt, but...when had anyone ever cared?
"Sorry I wanted to go out on my own," Bell said, too hungover and tired to try to avoid the fight Daniel was gunning for. Whatever. At least it wasn't Landon he was fighting with. "Goddamn, that's not me being unreliable, that's him being psychotic. I wasn't gone for that long, and I told him I was going out. I thought I was gonna get drunk, come back, slobber all over him, fuck him silly, and sleep. Not...come back to an empty room and have to try and save his life from hypothermia while drunk."
He rolled over onto Daniel. One way or another, the body was Landon's, and the way he was shivering scared Bell. He was on top of the sheets, anyways; they'd been closer in the tub. "Not fishing," he said at last. "Just curious." He could feel Landon's ass through the sheets, and it was tempting, but he could hold out. They'd done it yesterday, after all. Daniel would leave sooner or later, and everything would be fine.
The trek towards the bathroom wasn't really any more spectacular than the first, though Daniel tried to use less furniture as crutches, for the sake of posterity and did manage to kick off the pants somewhere along the way.
Breathing through the nausea, Daniel had to pause at the door-frame, swallowed and caught sight of himself in the mirror. Shit, he looked sick. Like, genuine flu-ill, though without any of the- okay, wait, so the sore muscles were from shivering, right? And the fever probably a reaction, together with being exhausted, maybe he was just dehydrated. Wouldn't be odd.
Finally managing to teeter towards the toilet, Daniel took another piss and splashed some water on his face. Still drunk. Fuck. The phone was still there, in a pile of towels, together with the discarded wallet.
Why the fuck did Landon have to decide swimming was a good idea?
Daniel rested on the sink a while longer before pushing to a stand and picking his way back to the bed, not one bit embarrassed about showing off his stuff to Bellwether. The man had already seen everything anyway, even if he had been drunk, he'd fucked Lenny a couple of times. Enough to know where each and every spot, crease and otherwise was.
So screw posterity.
Crawling back under the blankets with a shiver, Daniel sighed out.
Still drunk was good.
Couldn't they get more booze?
"That...fishing?" Daniel muttered, one eyebrow raised at Bellwether. "Let me put it this way," Daniel started, sending Bell a dangerous look. "If you ever fuck Lenny the way you did yesterday without his consent, you'll experience what it's like to have an orgasm while high on lack of oxygen," he threatened throttling Bell.
"Yeah I fucked Ivy, she liked it rough," Daniel grinned.
"Whether Lenny'd be pissed 's up to you, really," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, "do you want him to remember, Bell-boy? Heck, Lenny doesn't even care for what your name is, he'd have asked after it more if he did." Daniel loved sowing seeds of discord. He'd been feeling too shitty to earlier, but now was unable to stop himself.
"Or maybe Lenny was just scared that the man he trusted was unreliable," Daniel narrowed his eyes. Hadn't last night proved that much?
If Bell had been there, what would've happened then?
Landon wouldn't have jumped into a canal, that much was certain.
All darkness everywhere? The more Daniel explained, the less Bellwether understood. As long as Landon hadn't been intending to kill himself, he supposed. Or was that worse? It was confusing.
He flipped Daniel off. At least he'd had the excuse of being drunk. And naked. Actually, they'd both been naked. He'd never thought he'd say this, but thank god for whiskey dick.
Confiscated? Bell moaned pitifully and buried his face deeper in the pillows. Life just wasn't fair sometimes. "Fuuuuuck," he muttered.
"That's an asshole thing ta do," Bell said, not really bothered by it, just aware that it was kind of mean. Silence was nice, but actually, he could distract himself from the pain with conversation, and it did a lot to relieve the boredom of lying endlessly in bed, now that he was awake. Daniel would have to deal with it.
Daniel squirmed to get under the covers, but if anything, the room felt oppressively hot to Bell. It felt hot, and he was only wearing a pair of jeans. A pair of jeans and nothing; they were kind of uncomfortably scratchy in places. When Daniel rose to return to the bathroom, Bell shifted into his place and borrowed a gulp of water from the mug. Water dripping down his chin, he sat up and peeled the jeans off, then wiped his face and resumed lying face-down on the bed. For some reason, he felt a little self-conscious around Daniel, even though he [i was] Landon. Had probably watched them fuck, even. Bell made a face. Actually, that was kind of disturbing. Had he already fucked Daniel, then, by proxy of fucking Landon?
"You watch us fuck? Me 'n Landon," he asked, too curious to hold it back any longer. "'N, would Landon be pissed if we did? Just hypothetically. I mean, you must've fucked his fiance, right?" Landon and Daniel had been living with that woman for longer than they'd--he'd?--been living with Bell, in all likelihood. It must have come up, especially if he usually came out for days at a time, like he was insisting upon doing now. If there was precedent for it, he really didn't have anything against it...though at the same time, he should probably ask Landon's permission, too.
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