asher_talos | [For Stephen]

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[For Stephen]

While Asher was still adjusting to the idea of Del being pregnant with his hell spawn, it was a lot harder to do whenever he was back in that dorm room. It was one of those two tiny steps forward, one giant step back kind of deals and, in all honesty, he wondered if he’d just be better off rooming elsewhere. What he didn’t need was a constant reminder of how badly this could all end, but it was hard to shake the feeling when this place thought it would have been fun to leave dead bodies in his bed last Halloween.

Of all the corpses he’d dealt with over the span of five-hundred years, the Island sure knew how to pick the pair that would pack the most punch. Going for the heart; it was something he probably would have found commendable, under normal circumstances. When it wasn’t his heart.

If they could just skip right over October this year, that would’ve been great.

Perched on top of the dresser with an apple clamped between his fangs, Asher just stared at his bed. He’d gotten back into the habit of avoided sitting or lying on it unless he knew he’d fall asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow. And, frankly, he just wasn’t that tired yet.

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Stephen clomped down the stairs, loud even when he wasn't talking. He was just talented that way. He stomped across to drag his laundry out of one of the machines that he still really wished he never had to deal with, then carried the whole crumpled mess to his bed to drop it all there.

He really wished he had a maid.

Well, Stephen was certain a distraction from sulking while staring at inanimate objects, Asher just wasn't sure if he wanted that particular distraction.

He decided to stay silent and just watch. It was like glimpsing an animal in the most unnatural habitat possible for it. Stephen... attempting to be domestic and looking pretty damn put off by the very idea of it.

Stephen began separating his stupid pants and his stupid shirts and his stupid ties. He was having trouble with it; there was a tie wrapped around a pant leg and a sock and he couldn't get it the hell off. Growing more and more frustrated, he ended up practically swinging the mess against the bed, hoping it'd get knocked apart.

"Goddamnit!"

And now the animal was rabid...

Asher watched for a moment longer, wondering just how long the pathetic struggle could go on. If this were the wild and he were a half decent human being, he'd have shot Stephen in the head by now.

Prying his fangs out of the apple, Asher knocked his heels back against the dresser drawers to get his attention. "Were you dropped on your head repeatedly as a child?"

The Spawn would go nowhere without a head-to-toe suit of five inch thick padding if this was a potential risk.

Stephen, who had thought he was alone, whirled around in surprise. He dropped the offensive clothing and somehow managed not to swear profusely at Asher for startling him.

"When did you get here?!" And, once his heart rate was back to normal, "Was I--what? No. Not for lack of trying, though..." He trailed off, pondering it. Being the youngest of eleven led to lots of siblings carrying you around.

"Before you did..." Why was he always so fucking loud? "Too bad. That would have explained a lot."

It would have explained damn near everything.

Asher set the apple down beside him, not even sure why he had it in the first place. He wasn't hungry, but having it shoved between his teeth did keep him from lighting a cigarette, so maybe it wasn't completely pointless.

Ha, ha.

Stephen glowered for a second before turning back to his bed. Then, after a glance at the clothes, he turned right back around.

"So you're just sitting here in the dark?" All quiet and sneaky?

"I wasn't aware that there was a rule against me sitting in my own room." That he shared with more men than he liked...

"Is there one against me being sprawled out on your bed, jerking off? Because, boy, it's a good thing you didn't show up ten minutes earlier." None of that had happened, but if there were ridiculous rules going around, he wanted to play, too.

Stephen was almost sure that was a lie, but that didn't stop him from turning yet again and shoving all his clothes off his bed to the floor.

"That is not funny!" Strangely hot, maybe. But no! No it was not! It was just wrong. "I have to sleep there, you know." So did Asher's dog.

Asher glanced down at the laundry then back up at Stephen. Wasn't that just a little counterproductive?

"Personally, I thought it was hilarious," he said, without so much as cracking a smile. He was laughing on the inside.

"You would," Stephen muttered, smoothing one stray hair back into place. People never had good senses of humor anymore. Read: the same as Stephen's.

He sighed heavily, then knelt to start throwing his stuff back onto the bed.

"You would, too, if you removed that flagpole from your ass," Asher countered, shifting back on the dresser and leaning against the wall. "Just a friendly suggestion."

Stephen kind of missed drunk-Asher. He was nicer, even as he was calling Stephen an idiot. Who knew how that worked.

"Thank you for the concern over my ass, Asher," he said as calmly, as sanely, as possible. "It's very touching."

All his crap was back on the mattress, still in piles. He really didn't want to bother with it. Ever. So instead he walked over to Asher and pointed at the apple.

"You gonna eat that?"

"Don't mention it," Asher said, managing to sound somewhat pleasant for a second. He even avoided any and all suggestive retorts that immediate sprung to mind just then.

He shook his in response to Stephen's question. "Be my guest."

Stephen shot Asher a brief grin, then grabbed the apple. He blinked at the fang marks, then shrugged and took a bite from the same spot. Because for all of Stephen's extreme gay-panic, he wasn't uptight about germs, apparently.

"So," he started, mouth full. "Did you enjoy your drunk time?" It was still a strange occurrence, and Stephen was nosy.

"It wasn't meant to be enjoyable, it was meant to provide a distraction." And it had worked. He had been too busy nursing a hangover the next day to worry about much of anything else beyond that. "I'm not a fucking frat boy."

"...Distraction? From what?" Stephen asked curiously, chomping on the apple noisily.

"Del," he said, nose slightly scrunched as Stephen ate. He'd been around cow with quieter eating habits.

"Del?" Stephen repeated. "Why would you need to distract yourself from Del?" Del was nice, and apparently had magical powers when it came to training dogs.

"No. Not... her," Asher said, frustrated. Del was still Del, after all; he didn't like her any less and he sure as hell didn't want it to sound that way. "She's... pregnant."

Stephen's eyes widened; that was unexpected.

"She what? Wow. You know, I hear there are always tons of pregnant people here. I wonder why that is..." He chewed thoughtfully.

Asher rolled his eyes. Why did this have to be so fucking difficult? "It's called sex. Need me to explain how that works? I'm willing to go as far as hands on demonstrations. Or sketches." But the latter was a lot less fun.

"It's mine," he added quietly. "Apparently."

Stephen made a face, started with, "I know that, I just mean--" and promptly shut up.

It was...what?

His mind went blank, so did his expression.

So that was the blank face Del had mentioned. Asher wasn't sure what that was all about, considering he hadn't just told Stephen that he was pregnant with his baby. And if shit like that ever started happening on the island, Asher was becoming a priest.

"Yeah, that was my reaction, too," he said, tapping his fingers against the dresser. "...that a no on the demonstrations, then?"

Well he didn't want to assume.

Naturally, Stephen couldn't remain speechless for too long.

"...What? Demonstration? You? Del? She? I didn't-I didn't know you..?"

Clearly, his speech hadn't fully returned.

"Just once," Asher answered, managing to piece together what Stephen was attempting to say. Or so he assumed. "Which is all it takes, evidently."

"So you--and her--you aren't--um?" Stephen made some vague gestures and cleared his throat and stared at the slowly browning apple.

He was pretty sure he was supposed to be congratulating Asher or something. Ask about marriage, because children were supposed to come after that part.

Somehow - even excluding the fact that he couldn't form full sentences - he couldn't bring himself to do that.

"Probably not..." His deciphering skills could only be expected to go so far, and there were too many words that 'um' could have represented.

"...Together?" That seemed like the safest of terms to use.

"I haven't given her my letterman jacket and asked her to go steady, no." Not that he remembered, anyway. They day sort of got away from him after Del had told him she was pregnant, and there was all that drinking at that party, but he was sure he'd recall something like that if it happened.

Stephen didn't even acknowledge the sarcastic response. He just nodded, back to silence.

He very carefully put the apple back on the dresser and started tapping his fingers on it. A pen would be nice to have handy, did he have a pen?

He started patting his pockets.

"Lose something?" Asher asked as he watched him curiously. Stephen didn't smoke as far as he knew, unless he was bumming one off of him, so he probably wasn't searching for that. But what did he know? Maybe he took it up. For his health.

"Looking...something to put in my mouth..." Stephen muttered, still searching. Finally he found a stray pen in his coat pocket, which was where he usually had them anyway. He stuck the end between his teeth and instantly felt a little saner.

Asher brows rose, but he said nothing. Somehow, he suspected that all suggestive comments would have zipped right over Stephen's head at this point. That would have just been a waste.

Stephen gnawed on the pen for a moment, then removed it and started tapping that against the dresser.

"So." Taptaptap. "What are-what are you gonna do?"

He didn't know what he was hoping the answer would be, or why he was hoping at all. God, the island really was getting to him.

"As far as...what?" It wasn't as though there was much he could do at this stage. He could sit and wait and worry, which he planned to do, and he had already told Del that he'd help her whenever she needed him to. All that aside, what else was there?

"So you're not--and her--you both--" Dammit, he was doing it again! And after he had managed a whole sentence, too. Stephen tried some more gestures to get his point across, this time with added pen-waving.

The pen would have been a lot more useful if it came with a pad of paper. Assuming Stephen's ability to write hadn't gone the way of his speaking ability, of course. "Look, either speak English or shut the fuck up."

It was really that simple.

He knew he'd gone his own brand of non-verbal on Del, which was pretty fucking shitty of him, but he was allowed to.

Look, Stephen knew he wasn't allowed. And yeah, that sort of thing never mattered to him in other, less shocking, experiences, but even that was different now.

He made a noise of frustration, rattling the pen against the surface like he was trying to see if he could actually break the wood with it.

"Are you," he started, easily enough. "Are you and Del going to get together."

There. He was a little proud of himself.

Edited 2008-09-29 10:04 (UTC)

"Why? You want another wedding to plan?" Because the first one he'd thrown together had been such a hit and not at all ridiculous. "Sorry, you're going to have to get those rocks off somewhere else if that's the case. For one, she hates weddings. Besides that, we're just friends."

That would have been the perfect cue to say any of the following:

"You're not getting married?? But a child needs two parents! A married mother and father! It doesn't even have to be a happy marriage!"

"Joey will be disappointed; I'm sure he would have loved to officiate."

"So first a child out of wedlock and now this? There is no hope for you, sir."

Instead, what he ended up saying, completely against his wishes, was:

"Oh, thank God."

...What the hell?

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Asher asked, glaring. He did, however, kind of appreciate being spared any Religious talk, about how he was going to hell for knocking someone up without shelling out a ring first. He was going to hell either way, and this really was one of the tamest offenses he had against him as far as solidifying his entry went.

Stephen blinked owlishly.

"I...don't know," he said, and oddly enough, it was the truth. He put the pen back in his mouth like it would help him regain his damn sanity about the situation. He turned and leaned against the dresser, confused and annoyed with himself.

Asher scowled. Stephen's answer was the furthest thing from being good enough. In fact, it was just plain stupid and wasn't much of an answer at all.

Reaching over, Asher snatched the pen out of his mouth ( to hell with his sanity) and whipped it clear across the room where it rolled somewhere between Joey's bed and the wall.

Childish, yes, but he didn't give a shit. And if he was asked why he did it, well, he didn't know, either.

Stephen didn't move a muscle, as if he hadn't even noticed that anything happened. Couple seconds later and he glanced across the room.

"Was that necessary?" he finally asked, trying not to pout. How was he going to find that pen now? "I didn't--I didn't mean..." Whatever Asher was insulted by now?

"Completely fucking necessary," he answered icily, his glare just as cold. Settling back in his seat, head tipped back against the wall, Asher crossed his arms over his chest and stared straight ahead.

Hopefully telling Joey would go better than this. He didn't want to resort to throwing Yasmine across a room.

"Don't see why," Stephen mumbled, mimicking Asher's position. "It's just weird, and-with you. You. Oh hey, apple," he practically squeaked, picking the stupid apple back up and studying it.

"Um. Need anything?" he added after a moment. He figured he was probably supposed to offer support or something.

"Now there's a big surprise," Asher said, his tone flat and sardonic, the furthest thing from surprised. It was more than obvious by now that Stephen didn't see a whole heck of a lot. That kind of ignorance had to blaze right on past bliss and straight on to full on orgasmic.

Asher was tempted to send the damn apple sailing in the same fashion the pen had made its exit, but he managed to restrain himself. He wasn't sure how long that would hold with Stephen acting like he was, though, and what the hell would he have left to throw after the apple was gone but a fist?

He nodded to himself, having come to some silent conclusion about something or another in his mind, then slid off of the dresser. "From you? Not a damn thing," he answered, almost scoffing, but not quite, before he decided he'd had his fill of present company. He'd leave Stephen to his apple, to choke on for all he cared.

Stephen looked, looked at Asher's back as he walked. In the end it didn't matter that the apple wasn't thrown before, because Stephen himself tossed it aside.

It was a rare moment of self-awareness for him, but he knew he had basically completely ruined whatever had just happened. He sighed, practically flopped to the ground, back still against the dresser. And as he buried his face in his hands, frustrated over everything, there was really only one fitting thing to say.

"Fuck."

Edited 2008-09-30 10:53 (UTC)

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[For Stephen]

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