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oom: post-atlantean adventures
Puck, who has woken rather early having frankly not slept all that much, prepares to greet the inevitable day.
Is this enough water?
He'd thought it was.
He does hope Havelock isn't cross.
... But if he is, it will likely be at least a little bit hilarious.
"And I wish to hear not a word from you," he notes to the portrait.
The painting sits balefully on the wall, keeping a sulky silence.
Is this enough water?
He'd thought it was.
He does hope Havelock isn't cross.
... But if he is, it will likely be at least a little bit hilarious.
"And I wish to hear not a word from you," he notes to the portrait.
The painting sits balefully on the wall, keeping a sulky silence.
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Especially since if he comes to be undebatably unconscious, Puck will be failing in the one task he was assigned.
He gives Havelock's hipbone a squeeze, fingers trailing towards his waistband.
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And Havelock does appreciate it.
It looks like he's burrowing as far into the pillow as he possibly can without actually moving, sure, but there's appreciation in there somewhere.
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Slight problem, however:
Havelock's face-down.
Hrrrrm.
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Havelock's contribution mostly consists of rubbing gently at the back of Puck's head in a mildly uncoordinated fashion.
But it proves he isn't asleep!
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Puck snuggles a little closer and nuzzles at Havelock's shoulder.
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...Oh, light.
Painful but necessary.
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He's mostly checking for paleness, bloodshot eyes, and any indication that he's about to be ill.
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(Sunlight has never been his friend.)
"I should get up," he says, in a small voice that lacks conviction of any kind.
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"Do you wish it? I shall help, if you do."
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"...But I must at some time, so yes."
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"You are terribly preposterous."
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Gamely, he starts to sit up.
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...Or sit up, uncertain but rather more alert in the morning light.
Havelock is quiet, but looks definitely... displeased.
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Puck ... loves you ...?
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...And he's okay!
Yes, it took that time to check.
Once reassured, Havelock rakes a hand through his hair with determination.
"What time is it, anyway?" he asks.
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"But I should guess it is near ten."
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Definitely shouldn't go back to sleep.
"All right. Time to get up."
It is unclear who he is convincing.
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Puck nuzzles cheerfully into his throat.
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...That is not at all helpful with the getting up thing.
"I would just get up and carry you with me," Havelock says thoughtfully. "But... I honestly think I would collapse."
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"Perhaps you ought to collapse, so long as you were awake about it."
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D:
Swift and decisive, he slides his legs off the mattress, and gets to his feet.
...The closes his eyes for a pained moment or two.
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And may also be caressing a little bit. Just his hip.
It's totally reasonable.
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"All right," he says. "I'm going to go and stand under the hot water until I either wake up or drown."
Odds are about even.
"Coming?"
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"Absolutely."
Or not.
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