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Post by LIAM HENDERSON on Nov 17, 2011 4:21:49 GMT -5
 Stupid tutoring. Stupid Zach Charming. Who the hell had a name like ‘Charming’ anyway? And was it some cruel, dramatic irony to give the name ‘Charming’ to someone who was…not charming. The kid was a braniac, he’d give him that, but he was one major pain in the ass. Liam sighed, and brought a cigarette to his mouth, and lit it up as he strolled through Central Park. It was a nice evening, the sun had just set, and the sky was a blanket of grey. Not too dark though, but enough that the golden glow of the orb lamps lining Central Park illuminated the area in an ethereal light.
Liam usually cut through Central Park on his way back from the Library, it was a nice walk. A few moments of peace and quiet before he made it back to his dorm room. But tonight, Liam decided to get smart. Curious, if you will. Because he heard a strange sound just off the concrete walkway. He paused, and looked into the shadows of the trees, and pulled his red hoodie tighter around him, while he took another lazy drag off his cigarette. There was another sound, and he started to walk towards it. Of course, his brain was screaming at him. ‘This could be one of those killers you see on TV all the time! You could be dead! Jamie will resurrect you and kill you himself! Don’t do it!’ But Liam had never been good at listening to that voice, and instead—kept walking forward.
What he saw though immediately made him feel like a fucking idiot, and rooted him to the spot. It was a tiny pack of stray dogs. Three of them who were going to town on a squirrel that hadn’t quite been fast enough. Liam shouldn’t have ran. The logical approach would be to walk away, or hold still until the dogs left. But Liam’s brain gave him a big old “NOPE” and he turned on his heel and booked it. It created a predator response in the nearly feral dogs, and they tore after him. Liam dropped his cigarette, but continued to run. The bag bouncing against hs sde threw him off balance—slowed him down unto he finally just tossed it off. They were just books anyway, whatever. No matter.
The fear that suddenly was clawing at his mind was preventing him from much rational thought. Those dogs were huge, they were massive. And dear God, they were going to rip him limb from limb. And he was going to get blood on his favorite hoodie. Liam swore that he could hear the dogs snapping jaws right behind him, and he did the only thing he could possibly think of at this moment of utter panic. He zipped right up a tree, scrambling onto the branches. Dogs couldn’t climb, right? Oh PLEASE don’t sprout opposable thumbs now, pooch. Liam rested his back against the trunk of the tree he was in, gasping. He hung onto the plant, and looked down where the dogs were barking, snapping, leaping up trying to take a bite out of him.
He squeezed his green eyes shut, “Oh, oh god….oh god.” His heart was hammering in his chest. He was going to die. He couldn’t even see the path he had been walking on earlier. If anyone else was walking, they might not even know he was about to be turned into power pup. Liam rummaged in his pocket, relieved that his phone hadn’t been in his bag. Her jerked, and grasped the tree again when one of the dogs let out a particularly sharp bark. He punched in a name, and hit the call button, raising the phone to his ear, gasping. “J-jamie? Jamie, I’m in trouble…” Again, he didn’t add. Though he sounded scared. His usual almost flat tone gave way to a higher pitched sound, tight like he was on the verge of tears. The barking of the dogs surrounded him, and Liam balanced on the branch and pulled his knees up, squeezing his eyes shut so he didn’t have to see those glinting teeth. “I’m l-ost, and there’s…fucking dogs. Dogs that are going to eat me. C-could you bring like…pep…pepper spray?” Liam hiccupped into the phone. He didn’t want to outright ask Jamie to come and ward off the dogs. Cause those things down there looked vicious, and last he wanted was to put Jamie in harm’s way. But if Jamie could…toss over some pepper spray from a neighboring tree…it’d work out. Right? Right?
Fucking dogs.[/blockquote] [/size] |
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Post by JAMES KENNEDY on Nov 18, 2011 3:14:46 GMT -5
The sad part about this whole situation was that Liam wasn't actually that far from home and Jamie wasn't exactly sure when to expect him. Liam didn't really stay out late, so Jamie figured he'd be home any time now, but he hadn't been expecting the phone call. Even when he answered it, it was with a tone of voice that clearly said how bored he'd been up until that moment and just how glad he was for the call, even if it was likely for something stupid like, 'dude, do we have chips?' or 'I'm not grabbing you smokes unless you have cash when I get there'. He was laying upside on the couch, legs up over the back of it and head hanging off the front when he answered, and he totally sounded way too pleased. Liam's tutoring nights were the worst.
"Liam! 'Sup?" he asked by way of answering the phone, rather than going with the super lame 'hello' approach. Hearing that Liam was in trouble made the conversation instantly less boring, but nearly had him fall off the couch when he tried to jump up. He'd barely murmured 'what?' before his best friend explained about being lost and the dogs, and it all clicked in his head to the chorus of barking, snarling monsters. Oh, God. "I'm coming, I'm coming, relax, where are you? Shit, you're lost, where WERE you?"
He was quick about crawling up off the floor (he'd managed to stay on the couch long enough to get his foot caught in the blanket and go down with a string of curses), grabbing his leather jacket and yanking shoes on as he listened to Liam, asking the appropriate questions to try to figure out where he was going. Pepper spray? Forgotten as he bolted out the door, stressing hard over the fact that tying shoes took precious seconds, but was necessary if he didn't want to be tripping over laces or losing the shoes themselves.
Really, he hadn't the slightest idea what he was going to do when he showed up there, not against a pack of dogs with no weapons other than a cell phone to speak of, but he bolted towards Central Park like he was going to do something about it. He actually wasn't even certain how he was going to find him, considering Liam didn't even know where he was, but he ran along the path he knew the other guy took home from the library and hoped that he'd find some kind of hint along the way.
Somewhere along the lines, at some point as he ran and tried to swallow down his own panic to keep assuring Liam that he was on the way, that the dogs weren't going to eat him and it would all be okay, his breathing steadied and his movements became more fluid, faster, focused. He wasn't actually aware of it, but his voice had taking on a strange quality, though it wasn't a huge change. Just an odd tone. "I'm coming, Red."
The phone ended up in his pocket without even being hung up, just shoved there in a rushed attempt to keep his things as together as possible before he tore the jacket off and flung it aside, the shirt after it. He had to slow his pace to wriggle out of his pants and the shoes he'd been so worried about tying, but even such a potentially awkward stunt as that was performed in such a way that it looked more like he was sliding right out of it all, like he was going to slide right out of his skin if he wasn't careful, and in the next instant, he was running again. He had a direction, a scent of fear on the air and the sounds of dogs barking, dogs that were threatening what was his. Liam's voice rose on the air in panic, and the naked boy surged forward and shed his form.
Jamie wasn't there, not really, and hadn't been since before he'd put the phone away, but he still screamed like he was actually being skinned as the shift took over, his voice rising up human and then becoming a decidedly pained and canine shriek. There was just a little bit of a falter on his part as he hit the ground on all fours, his body crying out against the suddenness of the shift and the need to move, but he recovered quickly and pushed this stronger, faster, better body to its fullest potential. When he hit that pack of dogs, they didn't know what the fuck they were dealing with.
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Post by LIAM HENDERSON on Nov 18, 2011 4:03:17 GMT -5
“Y-you think if I knew where I was, th-that ‘d be lost?!” Liam stammered into the phone. If Jamie could have seen him, there’d be an incredulous expression on his face. Sometimes he worried about his best friend’s mental capacity. “I was just walking in…in Central…like…” God. The whole park looked the same. And it was huge. Liam started to breathe a little faster, starting to panic. Relax? Hah! Relaxing for sissies. Liam was a real man. Who was going to hyperventilate in a fucking tree. Awesome.
Then there was that freaky voice. Warning him that he was coming. For Red. Who the…nooo. Wrong number, asshole. This was Liam. Not no Red. It made Liam want to dive out of the tree and change locations. He didn’t want the owner of that voice to find him, it scared the hell out of him. But a slight part of him felt reassured. Like he was going to be okay. Though, that was a tiny part of the whole, ‘OH MY GOD I’M GONNA BE TURNED NTO PURINA DOG CHOW’ brigade. That’s when he noticed he couldn’t hear Jamie on the other line. Both hands clutched the phone desperately. “Jamie? Jamie? JAMES FUCKING KENNEDY!” Liam didn’t sound angry, actually, with each passing call for his friend that went unanswered managed to make him sound more panicked.
He almost toppled off the tree, and clutched the trunk just before he could lose his balance. That’s when he saw something strange and frightening. A much bigger dog had joined the others. Though, it was more shaggy…the face more pointed—oh fucking god.
Oh.
Fucking.
God.
It was a wolf. A huge fucking wolf. A really huge, goddamn, big wolf.
Liam’s heart probably stopped for a good ten seconds. Like, he was pretty sure he just hallucinated Jesus for a few milliseconds there. He was going to die. Jamie, I love you. You are the best friend I’ve ever had. Well. The only friend I’ve ever had…but still. You can have my Playstation when I’m gone and my bones are licked clean.
One of the dogs however, let out a startled yip and jumped away from the large wolf that had joined in. No, this creature meant business. His scent was all over the park, he owned this place. It was his. Even the boy in the tree smelled like him, just a little. Tails tucked between legs, and they started backing up, with their heads bowed. No trouble here, officer! You enjoy that meal. The boy looked a little too sweet for our liking anyway.
Liam was now stuck with two options. Stay in the tree, and wait for this damn thing to jump up and grab him…or hell. Maybe it’s size meant it was mutated and it had super brains, and therefore knew how to climb. Or he could use the opportunity where both the dogs and the wolves were distracted, find Jamie, and get the fuck out. Yeah. That sounded like a good idea. Liam shoved his phone in his mouth, because he didn’t want to lose it—plus, it was muffling the scream building up in his throat. He scrambled back down the tree ungracefully, and possibly with some new splinters to pick out. But the second he touched grass on the opposite side of the tree from where the wolf and dogs were—he took off like a bat out of hell.
Finally, all that soccer playing in high school was being put to use. Liam ran as fast as he could through the park. Stupid him—just further off the path. Though, he had no way of knowing that. Especially when he slipped through a patch of mud from the damn sprinklers and went careening down a mild hill. His ankle got caught under him, and twisted at a really uncomfortable angle. Luckily it didn’t snap, but t was enough that Liam was not getting up. He laid in the grass, muddied, dirtied, and possibly with grass stains on his favorite hoodie. His arms were stretched out to the sides, as he stared up through the trees. He felt strangely calm all of a sudden. Accepted his fate.
Then he felt mad.
Fucking Zach Charming. Fucking tutoring. Fucking, ‘Oh no, Liam. We should meet at the public library, more resources’. Fucking, ‘No, Jamie. I don’t need you to walk me, it’s a straight shoot.’. Fuck this day, and fuck everything about it. Liam realized he still had a call with his best friend. He hung up, and called right back again. That asshole better pick up before the wolf found him. It would ruin him telling Jamie his funeral plans if he had an oversized Scooby Doo trying to eat his leg off, or something.
Only his friend didn’t pick up. But he did hear the faint, faint, far off sound of Jamie’s phone. No way. He had to be hallucinating now. Liam shifted, and tried to go to his feet, only to go back down. Nope. Not yet. “Jamie? JAMIE!?” Liam called.
Fuck. This. Day.
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Post by JAMES KENNEDY on Nov 18, 2011 14:18:54 GMT -5
'JAMES FUCKING KENNEDY' was currently indisposed, though that had a nice ring to it. Better than 'Lucas', so maybe he should just introduce himself as that. Forget James Bond, this was James FUCKING Kennedy. Yeah, that was sweet. Too bad Jamie wasn't really aware of what Liam had called him, though the wolf was very interested in the boy in the red hoodie. So interested, in fact, that as soon as it hit the pack of dogs, it snarled and flashed its teeth, sinking them into any bit of dog flesh that got in his way. Those dogs had a damn good reason to clear out, and it was a chorus of snarls, yelps and barks for just a moment there as some of them tried to fight back and realized that they couldn't get more than a mouthful of fur whenever they tried. One got close enough to actually draw blood at his shoulder and the wolf swung its massive head back, teeth grazing over the animal's face and leaving bloody tracks behind. No, wounding this beast was a bad idea.
That didn't stop another few from trying, though most of the pack was already high-tailing it out. One of the larger dogs, a doberman that was probably the 'alpha' of the little pack, caught his muzzle with his big teeth and left a few bloody gashes of his own, but it didn't really do any good. The wolf just turned on him with a whole new fury, completely losing track of the boy who'd drawn him out here in the rush to tear this brute apart. Only after the doberman's throat was trapped in his jaws and he felt hot blood in his mouth did he concern himself with anything else, and then it was to raise his nose to the air and determine where Red had gone so that he could ensure that the other dogs went in the opposite direction.
Conveniently enough, that meant he came upon Jamie's discarded clothing in time to hear the ringing cell phone in the pocket of the pants, sniff at it and stare off in the direction of the boy's cries for his friend. He could go, but to do what? He started off in that direction, just a few steps towards Liam, before the falling adrenaline levels in his system failed to maintain the wolf and brought the beast to the ground with a whimper.
This would be the second time that night that Jamie's voice would rise up in a scream through the park, and it better be the last. In his last few conscious moments, the wolf ignored any of Liam's frantic cries to snatch up those jeans and start yanking them on. When Jamie became aware once more, he was in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head, there was blood trickling down his face and he didn't have any fucking clue where he was, but he could hear Liam screaming his name. As expected, that threw him into high gear, glancing around quickly and scooping up his jacket and shoes before he took off barefoot in his friend's direction.
"Liam? LIAM?" he screamed, almost not realizing that he was about to run right over a muddy hill, though he figured it out as his bare feet slid into the mud and he automatically adjusted his slide a little so he didn't hurt himself or land on his ass. He had grass in his hair, blood on his face and mud all over his feet and the bottom portion of his jeans, so he really didn't need any more mess. He stumbled a little as his slide through the mud was put to a sudden stop by more firm grass, but he caught himself with a kind of dazed, uncertain look around. Was Liam okay? He remembered why he was out here -- Liam had been lost and there were dogs, but he didn't see any dogs and he really didn't know what had happened between arriving in the park and the last few minutes. What the fuck was going on?
Whatever, it didn't matter. He'd found Liam, it was all okay. "Liam? Christ, are you okay? How'd you get all the way out here?" he asked, mostly just to have something to say as he dropped his coat and shoes to grab Liam's shoulders and give him a look over. "Did you get hurt?"
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Post by LIAM HENDERSON on Nov 18, 2011 16:13:50 GMT -5
Oh god--what was that scream?! That was so close, and it sounded so...pained. It immediately made Liam's mouth clamp shut, and he clutched the grass, and held his breath. This day was just getting worse, and worse, and worse. And fuck Zach Charming. That ass could meet him in the dorm. He could deal with Jamie. He could deal with the mess around the dorm. There was no way in hell that Liam was walking this park at night. Not with wild dogs and a huge ass wolf running around.
Liam was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Jamie's voice. At first it almost startled him, but he was relieved that his friend hadn't been mauled by the huge wolf or eaten by the dogs. He flinched away as his best friend came sliding down the hill a whole helluva lot more gracefully than he had. As soon as Jamie was in range, Liam scrambled and grabbed Jamie's arm, "Dude, dude, I'm fine. Just busted my ankle. I...there was a wolf. A really..big...fucking..wo--" Liam drew back a second, and squinted at his friend in the dim light.
He lifted his phone, and tapped a button to make the light come on, and held it up to Jamie's face. "Shit, you're bleeding. Did one of the dogs get you?" He frowned, struggling against Jamie's hands while he tried to look him over. "Maybe we should get you to a hospital." And out of Central. Before those fucking dogs came back. Shit. "Jamie, we should leave." He didn't release the grip on his best friend's arm, not even as he wobbled to his feet, favoring his uninjured foot. He wanted to get to the dorm. Get a shower and sit down with a hot cup of coffee and inhale whatever was left of his cigarettes.
Which were in his bag.
Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck.
"I left my bag." He mumbled, scrambling up the hill, tightening his jaw. Wasn't everyone saying to use the injured leg or ankle, or whatever more? And it would heal better? Walk it off, right? Liam did his best to ignore the pain that his ankle was shooting out in protest, while still hanging on to Jamie. No way in hell was he letting go, or getting seperated now that Jamie was here. "Thanks, by the way." He mumbled, and looked over his shoulder, and furrowed his brows. "I think you should go to the hospital, it's not that far away."
Coffee and cigarettes would have to wait. As much as it sounded so good, especially after being muddied, and now standing around in the crisp New York autumn night--Jamie's health was far more important. Though Liam was scattered all over. Get the bag, then go to the hospital? He had his wallet and phone in his pockets, so he wasn't worried about the bag. But those fucking books were expensive. Did he have ID in them? But if Jamie bled out in the process of getting the bag, there'd be a problem. FUCK.
No. Hospital. Fuck the books. "Yeah, you're going to the hospital. Those dogs were strays...can people get mange? I don't want you to get mange. Or rabies. Rabies isn't good either." Books were replaceable, Jamies weren't. At least his Jamie wasn't. "Here's to hoping you won't need stitches. I'd have to wrap your hands to keep you from scratching at them." He hadn't seen the extent of the injuries, just the blood. Which was enough to make Liam's worry go straight through the roof. So what did he do to ease the panic? Got his shit together and made a bad joke.
A really bad joke. [/size] |
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Post by JAMES KENNEDY on Nov 20, 2011 21:22:59 GMT -5
A wolf? A huge fucking wolf in Central Park? Seriously, Jamie could believe the thing about the dogs, maybe even believe that they would have tried to eat Liam, especially because he was small and likely very tasty, but a wolf? How would a wolf even get into Central Park? It was surrounded by city, and someone would have noticed a really big fucking wolf wandering around before it got to the park. At least, he thought so, but maybe he was wrong. It wasn't like he knew everything, or whatever. That was Zack Charming's job, and Jamie was all about not stealing that kid's limelight. Right. Except not.
Regardless, he was only slightly worried about the dogs and the apparently gigantic wolf that Liam had been harassed by, and more concerned with the busted ankle. He was taking them home, and if he had anything to say about it, nobody and nothing else would be fucking with either of them for the evening. He was done with this night, and that included avoiding a hospital visit unless Liam's ankle was fucked. He flinched away from the light in his eyes, his hand automatically going up to his face and hopefully hiding his wince as he pressed his fingers right to the scratches (or whatever they were) and got the wet, sticky blood stuck to his fingertips. What. The fuck. Was going. On.
He wanted to assure Liam that it was all fine, that it wasn't the dogs and there was no reason to go to the hospital, but he didn't know what he'd done. It could have been a tree branch, or a dog, or god knows what, but he didn't know. How could he not know? Hadn't he felt it happen?
No, he hadn't. He didn't know what had happened, just like he didn't know why he'd had his clothes half-off, but he couldn't just tell Liam that. They'd be going to the hospital for sure, and what if it was from the drugs? He hadn't taken THAT many that he'd thought he'd ever have trouble with them later, but what else could it be? How else could he not remember shit like he was?
God, this really wasn't the time to stress it. Should he say it was the dogs? It had to be, he must have run into them when he was looking for Liam, but no, that would get Liam taking him to the hospital, and he wasn't going there. If he couldn't say it wasn't the dogs, then he'd end up with rabies shots and all kinds of things that he didn't want or need. No, no hospital.
"It's fine, I tripped and I think I hit a stick. It was dark," he offered dismissively, words quick and hopefully true. He just didn't know, though if he'd hit a stick, he was damn lucky to still have both of his eyes. Actually, he was pretty sure he was lucky regardless. "Let's go home, we'll get your bag on the way."
He hesitated just long enough to pull his jacket and shoes on, aware that he'd definitely put them both on before leaving the dorm, but not thinking about it at the moment. He had priorities, and those included taking care of Liam, getting Liam's dropped bag, and not getting them eaten by wild dogs or wolves. For whatever reason, he wasn't really afraid of the last part, but it was still a priority because it had to be.
"We don't need to go to the hospital, it's not bad enough for stitches and I'm not going to bleed out or anything, I promise. Unless your ankle's that bad. Is it?" he asked, shoes and jacket on without him doing much more than glancing at a dark spot on his t-shirt over his shoulder. He only noticed because there was a spike of pain as he moved it to get the jacket on, but priorities. Weird injuries were not among them; it wasn't the first time. He was good at denial, and instead laughed a little at the lame joke about wrapping his hands to keep from scratching at stitches. God, he didn't want stitches. He'd gotten them a few times before for various reasons, and he wasn't a fan.
God, he hoped Liam's ankle wasn't that bad. They could ice it down when they got home and put it up, and it wasn't a crazy long walk, but still. If it was hurt, it'd feel like a long way. He grinned suddenly, an idea flashing through his skull. "Want a piggy-back ride home?"
Yep, because Jamie definitely needed to be as covered in mud as Liam was tonight.
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Post by LIAM HENDERSON on Nov 21, 2011 1:07:38 GMT -5
“Wait, let me get this straight. You’re walking in scary Central Park, looking for your lost and terrified best friend. When out of the darkness springs a terrifying, mutated stick with claws and sharp pointy teeth…and it attacks your face. Right?” His friend simply couldn’t have fallen on a stick and injured his face like that. There had to be more to the story. He refused to believe that his best friend was really that clumsy. But…it was still a little funny. Luckily, Liam was decent enough to not laugh at his friend’s utterly hilarious misfortune.
Even though there were stray dogs and a wolf on the loose, Liam felt at ease with his Jamie nearby. He knew that Jamie would keep him safe, but that’s wasn’t necessarily it. This was his best friend that he had gone through thick and thin with, and if there were anyone he’d want to be with when he was scared out of his mind, it was Jamie. It made him feel bad that Jamie was just now putting on his coat and shoes. Which meant that he had been running all the way here barefoot. He’d have to make sure that he didn’t get cut on any glass, cause New York wasn’t the cleanest place and he didn’t want his friend to get like…gangrene or something. That’d be icky.
“No, my ankle’s not that bad. I just gotta walk it off and ice it or something.”
[/color] He mumbled. No need to make Jamie worry more than he already was. But it was smarting, and he was doing his best to walk on it without flinching and without limping. He took in a deep breath, and as they started walking back, he did his best to look like he was okay. Though he was pretty certain that the walk back would feel much longer than it actually was.
It wasn’t long before that Liam found his missing bag. Maybe he hadn’t been so far off the trail after all. God bless his sense of direction. Liam limp-wobbled-walked to his bag, and hoisted it over his head, letting the strap fall across his chest. When suddenly…Jamie offered a piggy-back ride. Liam’s entire demeanor changed at this new offer. He lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, his lips stretching into a wide grin while his fingers grasped to the strap of his bag. “Really? I don’t have to bully you into it?”[/color] He stared up at his friend. Maybe having a twisted ankle wasn’t so bad. Not if he got free fucking piggy-back rides!
Doing his best (and failing) to not look too excited, Liam wobbled behind Jamie and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him down a bit. “You sure you can carry my fat-assery back home?”[/color] Okay. That was a lie. Liam was not fat, he knew that. And there had been times before that he whined at Jamie to give him a ride back home. He trusted that if the weight of the bag was too much, and if Jamie couldn’t do it—to tell him, so he didn’t wait for an answer while he easily climbed onto Jamie’s back. God bless being so tiny. He wrapped his arms around Jamie’s shoulders, and grasped the front of his shirt to hold on, and hooked his legs around his friend’s middle.
Liam could feel the cold of the mud pressing through even his hoodie. Okay. Hot shower, cigarettes, and tea or cocoa. Definitely in order. He tucked his chin in, half of his face nestled into Jamie’s hair. Liam wouldn’t admit it, not to anyone, not to Jamie—and sometimes not to himself, but he liked the smell of his best friend. It was warm, familiar, comforting. There was the underlying tone of Jamie’s shampoo, but beneath that was an almost spicy sort of scent that was entirely Jamie. Liam closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them back up, “Thanks again. Maybe I should get a GPS implanted into my brain. Do you think they can do that?”[/b] Liam wondered out loud, turning his head to rest it against the side of Jamie’s as he looked ahead. His eyes scanned the area, looking for movement of those dreadful canine creatures.
“Aaaas a reward for your noble services this dreadful cold fucking evening, you may choose what we shall feast on tonight.” Liam deepened his voice, before returning back to normal, and slid his eyes sideways to look at his friend. “Whaddya wanna eat tonight? I can make something, or we can order out.”[/blockquote] [/size] |
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Post by JAMES KENNEDY on Nov 22, 2011 22:54:31 GMT -5
Jamie really didn't give a shit if Liam laughed at him over the stick incident, so long as he didn't ask too many questions about it or find out that it really didn't look like a stick had done it. Since he didn't actually KNOW how he'd hurt himself, that was his best guess. If it had been one of the dogs, he would have been hurt worse, he was pretty sure of that. For that reason, instead of getting annoyed or even firing back too hard, Jamie rolled his eyes and took in the sight of his best friend limping along. Yeah, HE was the one who should be fucked with about his fight with the stick. Liam had run afoul of a bit of mud.
"Dude, it was fucking horrifying, like a stick monster with gnarled branches for arms and twiggy fingers. It swung at me and I only barely made it out with my life. If all it did was scrape up my face, I'm a lucky, lucky man," he offered, his tone of voice as dramatic and 'storyteller'-esque as he could get it. He certainly wasn't going to take the serious approach, not now. Besides, the evening had already been crazy enough for Liam without Jamie dropping legit drama all over him. Nope, not happening.
There were other things that Jamie wasn't dropping, either, and one of them was the issue of Liam's ankle. He'd give him the chance to walk it off, help him ice it and put it up, but if it wasn't better by the following day, they were going to the hospital. He was putting his foot down, damn it. It was a good enough reason for him to offer the piggy-back ride, since watching Liam limp home wasn't okay with him, but the other reason was definitely that he didn't want to hang around any longer than they had to. He believed Liam about the dogs, even if he didn't think that one of them was actually a huge wolf, and he didn't want them coming out of the woodworks at them.
He had NO idea that he was pretty much feral-dog-repellent right then. Adam West would be so fucking proud, na na na batman.
The piggy-back thing was totally worth it when Liam looked that excited over it, too. Jamie didn't make a huge habit of doing anything to please his best friend, but he liked it when Liam was happy and he didn't mind contributing to the cause in silly ways sometimes. He just held out on piggy-back rides because they were the 'big guns' and he wasn't a damn pack mule. One of these days, Liam would realize that. Obviously not tonight, but he was okay with it or he wouldn't have offered.
Liam was ON. THAT. SHIT. Jamie barely had time to react to Liam's excited clutching of his bag strap before the other guy was tugging him down and crawling onto his back, which he cooperated with by bending his knees and leaning forward to help with balance. He hissed when his friend's grip on his shoulder pressed on the area that had been sore while he was pulling his jacket on, but once Liam was hanging on, he was nowhere near the apparent injury and Jamie wasn't thinking about it. It was better that he didn't, especially here in the dark where he couldn't even try to do anything about it.
"Uhf, damn, forget your fatassery. I don't know if I can carry your brainfood," he complained, wrapping his arms around Liam's legs to hold him steady and starting forward without any trouble. Yeah, he was bitching just to bitch, and it was with a smile. Those books were fucking heavy, but the whole Liam/books package was a lot lighter than he'd expected. He would think he was getting stronger or something, but he didn't exactly do anything to accomplish that. Sitting at the computer didn't really count as exercise, and just because he played some badass characters in that cool tabletop game with the Jenga tower didn't mean that he was a badass. Just a geek, which supported the fact that Liam should have been really heavy.
Whatever, he'd have to make sure his roommate was eating well from now on. Liam was too small to be losing weight. Of course, Liam got plenty of exercise (and helped Jamie get it) by getting lost like he did. Jamie had never sprinted so fast or so far in his life, he was pretty certain (he didn't allow his brain to wonder why he hadn't been out of breath, either).
"You could try to get a GPS in your brain, or you could, you know, use that navigation app in your phone. Just saying," he pointed out, turning a little so that he could see Liam's face better. He didn't know why Liam didn't use that thing, but it wasn't like he minded coming out here to get him. He actually loved it, if only because he was selfish and he wanted Liam to need him for more than just a laugh here and there. Sure, he had other uses and good qualities, but he liked helping Liam.
He also liked Liam's cooking. He could cook alright, but he didn't have the drive for it that his best friend did; Jamie would cook to eat, but Liam cooked to make things taste good, and he succeeded. It was why Jamie did the dishes instead. If Liam was offering him whatever he wanted for dinner, he wasn't even going to crack a joke or anything about it, because he was all over it. "Uhh, what do we have? Can we do something beefy, like roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy? I don't know why, but I'm craving that shit."
LOL. Wonder why.
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Post by LIAM HENDERSON on Nov 23, 2011 19:44:19 GMT -5
"Hercules, Hercules, Hercules!" [/b] Liam chanted when he felt the arms hook under his legs. Liam was extremely pleased with himself, all things considered. The crazy dogs, the wolf that he knew he saw, and getting injured--the piggy-back cheered him right up. In the back of his mind, Liam was aware that Jamie would pretty much let him get away with murder. The smaller of the two was a bit more bossy when it came to certain things, and usually Jamie complied. Liam was always aware, making sure and being certain that he wasn't pushing to the point of it not being okay. Most of it was done in play, and often rewarded with a hug or some delicious treat from the fridge.
Even though Jamie complained about the weight, he didn't seem to bothered by it. It caused Liam's brow to raise up after he realized that his friend didn't particularly seem to be struggling with the weight. Jamie never seemed to have too much of an issue carrying him, but Liam normally felt the bunching muscles under him of Jamie carrying the wait. There was something weirdly effortless about the way his friend was carrying him now. "Have you been lifting weights when I've been gone?" Liam tightened one arm around his friend, and used the other to grasp and squeeze his bicep, "Cause you're still flabby as ever." Much like Liam calling himself fat, his friend wasn't flabby. It was just a playful tease that Liam counteracted by rubbing his cheek against his friend's hair and a bright grin as he looped his arm back around his shoulder.
His grin faded as he considered Jamie's words, and his brows furrowed. App? Oh! That's right. Sometimes he forgot that he had one of those navigtion thingies. Maybe there was an app for remind him too. Liam shrugged, and put his chin on his arm, side-by-side with Jamie's face. Deep in his gut, there was a strange feeling. It made his lips almost itch with the want to turn his head and kiss his best friend's cheek. It wouldn't be the first time; Liam had kissed Jamie's cheek, nose, forehead, and arm on various occasions. Most of which when one of the boys needed comforting, or if Liam was extremely pleased with something. But there was always a reason behind it. There wasn't a reason behind it this time, so instead, Liam pressed his lips in a thin line, turning the ring inside of his mouth with his tongue to quell that confusing itch.
"I think I have a roast in the fridge or the freezer. Do we still have potatoes?" Liam's brows furrowed as he looked up to the night sky as they exited Central Park, trying to remember. His lips scrunched to the side and he chewed on the insides of his cheek. "I think I have a couple still in the fridge drawer; I can always mix it with the box of instant I have." Liam gave his best friend a pat on the chest.
"So like, tutoring sucked. And not in the fun kind of way either." The rest of the walk home was filled with Liam chatterboxing about how tutoring SUCKED. How Zack SUCKED(not in the good way either, unfortunately). And how the math SUCKED. He even deepened his voice, and tried to sound as nancy-pants as he possibly could when he quoted Zack Fucking Charming. It ended with him carefully sliding off Jamie's back, "Seriously. I'm so over that kid." Liam frowned, and out of habit tested to see if the door was locked. It wasn't. He shot an odd look at Jamie, but didn't scold him. His friend had rushed out to save him, so he couldn't blame him for not locking the door.
Liam abandonded his bag just inside the door as he limped his way to the bedroom. "I'm gonna get in the shower really quick. Can you lay out the roast, potatoes, and any veggies that you want along with the roast? I should be out by then, then you gotta clean up too. You look like a mess." He stared at Jamie better in the light. His friend looked ten times more jacked up, which sent Liam quickly limping down the hall to the bathroom. The sooner that Jamie could get cleaned up, the better. Liam scrubbed in the shower as quickly as he could, before rushing to his room to get dressed. The short-stop moving rather fast for someone who's ankle was throbbing and slightly swollen, but by god, he did it. And he emerged in the kitchen wearing a sweater that was a few sizes much too large, and a pair of PJ pants that also seemed to be a little too big. "Go shower. I'll start dinner."[/blockquote] [/size] |
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Post by JAMES KENNEDY on Dec 6, 2011 21:41:06 GMT -5
Seriously, Jamie couldn't help chuckling over the chant of 'Hercules!', even if he definitely didn't believe it. He never had been or would be any kind of Herculean figure, for reasons previously described; being a geek didn't get you very far in that department, and when the extent of his exercise was finding Liam when he was lost, walking around the city and waiting tables, there was no way in hell Jamie was bulking up at all. At least, as far as he knew. The fact of the matter was still that he wasn't struggling with the weight of his best friend and the books the way he should have been, which was slightly surprising and didn't make a whole lot of sense, but was pretty convenient. It meant he could carry him all the way up to their apartment without really straining much, though his breathing came a little quicker on the stairs.
Yes, on the stairs, because he was fine taking them.
"Lifting weights? Dude, could you imagine me in a gym?" he asked, tossing his best friend a grin and a roll of his eyes to go along with the disbelieving tone of voice and his own decision to appear to live in denial on the subject. It was good that he was so good at faking it, because he was all kinds of worried about what was going on with him right about then, and he could only pile on so much denial so quickly. He was already doing his best not to consider why he didn't remember what had happened to his face and why he'd been dressing himself in the park when he knew he'd been fully dressed when he arrived there. He was missing time here, and something had happened in that time. Now, he was carrying Liam and books that probably weighed almost as much as his friend, and not really struggling with it. How? "Flabby for life, baby."
It was a joke, but he actually wished it was a little more true. No, his muscles weren't bunching enough, struggling enough, with the weight, but he'd been noticing that there wasn't enough of that flab going on. He'd never been fat really, though he'd had some periods there that were a little softer and lazier than others, but this definitely wasn't one of those. There was less softness to his body, more in the way of harder angles and leaner lines over his muscles and bones than there had ever been. His body was being worked down and built up like a runner's, almost, and the way he took the stairs with that weight on his back felt like that might have been the truth.
He'd absolutely never been into running before, just saying.
Completely oblivious as to Liam's desire to kiss him on the cheek as they walked home, Jamie was just fine pretending that nothing was wrong, that he wasn't missing minutes, bleeding from his face and possibly his shoulder, that he wasn't carrying his friend without struggling, and think about dinner. Liam was offering a fantastic distraction there, and Jamie was all about it. "I think we have some, and I don't think they're growing legs and ready to walk off on their own, yet."
Yeah. They were dudes, even if Liam liked to cook good food, so sometimes their ingredients would get away from them a little. It happened. So did shitty tutoring sessions, apparently, since Liam had one with that dick Zack that he was all about describing in all of its sucky detail for Jamie, who was good at replying at the perfect moments, laughing and making fun of the uptight bastard to ease Liam's annoyance, and let's be real: math sucked, they both knew it, so it wasn't so much a discussion as it was a bashfest on the subject and the tutor until they got to the front door, which Jamie had left unlocked.
"Sorry, I was in a hurry, I guess," he offered with a shrug once Liam had slid off of his back. He gave the place a brief look-about once they were inside, but he didn't think anyone had disturbed it. Nothing seemed different, like it had been invaded, and he didn't know why he felt that way, but he did. Nobody had been here. "Go get your shower, I'll start it."
Yeah, he wasn't interested in putting any focus into the way he looked. He'd felt the mud seeping into his clothes where Liam's body was touching his, except on his leather jacket because the mud couldn't get through the leather, though it had been a cold spot. That meant he was going to have to wipe the coat down, but he'd get to it after dinner was rolling. When he took the coat off to hang it up, that concern was confirmed, but other than a slightly pained look, he hung it up and went to go wash veggies and lay the food out for Liam to return to, still not bothering to look at his shoulder or to even wipe at his face. It could wait, and considering the fact that he didn't bleed out while waiting for Liam to return looking all comfortable in his pajamas and sweatshirt, he felt like he'd made the right decision.
"Alright, back in a few. The potatoes are fine, by the way. I cut a few of the eyes off, but they're not bad," he told Liam, setting down the knife he'd been using to cut the potatoes up and heading off for the bathroom without even bothering to grab fresh clothes first. He should have, but planning ahead really wasn't his strong suit that night.
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Post by LIAM HENDERSON on Dec 7, 2011 18:33:55 GMT -5
Liam scrunched his face up, and crossed his arms while he sauntered back into the kitchen. “When you get out bring the alcohol. I’m gonna clean up those scratches before they get infected or something.” He said while his friend passed him. Liam picked up the knife and a potato and grinned. Jamie helped in the kitchen, but Liam was a little wary with letting him help in the kitchen. He seemed competent, but there were a few too many charred steak and burnt rice incidents to let it slide.
He cleared his throat, and leaned over the sink peeling the potatoes. That was one thing he always hated. He was going to have to get some of those small, red skinned potatoes that you could just throw in the pot. He wrinkled his nose, and cut up the potatoes and stuck them in a pot to boil. He enjoyed cooking, the process of it as well. It was almost liked his body tried to run on its own, allowing him time to think about things. It was quiet time for him. It gave him a few moments alone to really process what happened in Central Park.
Maybe he should report the stray dogs, and mention the wolf. But the way Jamie reacted…people wouldn’t believe that he had seen a giant wolf in the park. Maybe someone was keeping a wolf-dog as a pet and it got loose? But it hadn’t joined in with the dogs in trying to get him down from the tree. It had been trying…to fend off the dogs? It hadn’t even chased him when he took off running. Liam paused with the knife and carrots while his brows furrowed. Had that wolf been trying to protect him? Liam started to chop the carrots into the dish that the roast was waiting in, and took in a careful breath while he came to that realization.
The wolf had been protecting him from the ravenous dogs, he was sure of it. He kept repeating that thought in his head while he rubbed the roast down with rosemary, salt, and pepper. He put the roast into the oven, and put the back of his hand to his forehead. He had broken out in a thin sweat of pure nerves when he thought about it. He’d report the strays, but he wouldn’t report the wolf. What would they do to that wolf if they caught it—put it down? No, Liam didn’t like dogs at all, but if the wolf had been protecting him, he owed it a favor in return. He spun around to wash his hands again, starting to feel dizzy. “Owe it one? It’s a fucking wolf. Just another stupid dog.” Liam told himself out loud, and dried his hands on the towel.
He felt sick, and shaky. Now that he had time to calm down, it was enough to make him jumpy at his own shadow. Instead, he tried to preoccupy himself by grabbing the plates and silverware to set on coffee table that doubled as their dining table. Liam went back to the kitchen to strain the potatoes, trying not to think. God, where was Jamie? In the shower—right. Liam just wanted something to fill the air that wasn’t silence, that didn’t make him feel like he was trying to hear howls outside of their dorm. Maybe if he asked real nice, Jamie would let him crash on the floor in his room. Because nightmares were definitely in Liam’s future.[/blockquote] [/size] |
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Post by JAMES KENNEDY on Dec 13, 2011 2:13:19 GMT -5
In Jamie's defense, rice was sometimes a delicate process, because you weren't supposed to uncover it to check on it, so how could you be sure that it was done? He tried to trust the packaging on that one, but not all stoves and pots were made equally, so it was sometimes a gamble. Steaks just cooked really fucking fast under the broiler, so yeah, he never thought they'd be done so quickly. He wasn't terrible in the kitchen, especially when you were just talking about something as simple as cutting and peeling potatoes. He had it under control. Of course, he didn't mind if Liam took over while he got his shower. He'd washed just his hands to work on the food, but he definitely needed to get the dirty clothes off and really wash up. He could feel his shirt sticking to his shoulder in a way that made him thing it was drying blood, which didn't make a whole lot of sense to him because there were no rips in his jacket, but whatever, he'd deal.
Unaware that Liam was in the kitchen thinking about the incident with the dogs and wondering about that wolf that couldn't possibly exist (a wolf in Central Park?), Jamie was all about trying to forget it. Since he didn't know what had happened between him arriving at the park and pulling his clothes on to find Liam, he didn't really want to think it all over. It just worried him more to realize that he'd not only lost that time, but he'd apparently been hurt in the process and couldn't determine how. He stopped to look in the mirror that had defogged with the bathroom door open after Liam's shower, and the scratches on his face looked pretty nasty with the dried blood that had run down the rest of his face, making him decide that he had to wash his face first once he was under the water. Naturally, as soon as he shut the door, he had to pull his shirt up over his head (the soreness in his shoulder only made him more determined to see), and he wasn't let down with just a little scratch this time.
"What. The fuck," he murmured to himself, staring at the injury. His shoulder looked like something had tried to take a chunk out of him and had fortunately not gotten too far. It still looked worse than his face and he sure as hell wasn't showing Liam. If he did, his friend would just have more questions that he couldn't answer.
Fuck, Jamie had questions he couldn't answer.
In the shower, the water stung the injuries, opening them up again, but he just tried to be gentle with them as he soaped up, scrubbed his hair and got out as quickly as he could. His showers were never very long, and he had to take care of his shoulder before he got out there and let Liam dump alcohol on his face, which was going to suck. Shit, he hadn't brought clothes in, either. That was a genius move, wasn't it?
That meant he had to be even slicker, which he wasn't even sure he was capable of. He was quick with dumping some of the alcohol on his shoulder, hissing and trying not to do anything more than clench his hand into a fist on the counter and squeeze his eyes shut, lest Liam hear him, and it was with a shakier hand than before that he did his best to press some gauze pads to the wound, then clumsily tape them down. As long as it was covered and not about to bleed on his clothes, he didn't really care, so it didn't matter if it was pretty if it worked. It was then that he had to wrap a towel around himself, snatch up his dirty clothes and pad through the rest of the apartment to his room for clothes. He'd be quick, and hope that Liam didn't look up from his cooking.
Yeah, because he had that kind of luck. Whatever, he got points for trying.
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