asher_talos | [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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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)

[For Stephen]

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