myownface | An Airbnb in Baltimore, Tuesday Afternoon

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An Airbnb in Baltimore, Tuesday Afternoon

Sparkle had given the island's weirdness one night! One.

One was enough. The message that he'd left for Atton in the wake of that night was dubiously coherent and had been left without a single breath taken between words, and Sparkle could not get off the island fast enough after being caught out after the airhorns sounded, thank you very, very much. Sparkle had put up with years of Fandom horror, but very little could prepare a guy for the things he'd seen, stabbed, and screamed at while trying to make his way to somewhere that didn't involve...

... those.

It was a frazzled, tipsy Sparkle, wielding a tupperware container with a fish in it in one hand and half a bottle of Fireball in the other, who made his way up to the Airbnb that Hernando had booked and who knocked on the door. With his face.

There might have been sobbing involved? Or it could've just been frazzled ranting in between bouts of quiet screeching. It was hard to tell.

Sparkles were not made for Silent Hills.

[OOC: For the one, or for texts and/or phonecalls! NFB for distance!]

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Hernando opened the door quickly and gathered Sparkle to him with one arm while reaching to take the Fireball away with the other. "Come inside, I have a pitcher of proper drinks," he cajoled. Waiting until Sparkle had made it through the door before tipping his head back and kissing him to give him something to focus on beside whatever it was he was kind of babbling about.

It didn't sound good. Hernando hadn't expected it would. He'd listened to the radio that morning.

See Sparkle. See Sparkle make the saddest sounds while he kinda oozed right into Hernando's side, still clutching to his fish and watching his bottle go away. His bottle! His bottle! With his Fireball in it!

How was he supposed to regret everything about everything without that?

Hernando was impervious to Fireball sadness. He set it aside and then reached for the tupperware presumably carrying Milady. That would be more carefully set near a shiny new 5 gallon fish tank complete with LED light strips, both undergravel and corner filters and a bubble wand across the back wall. Already in it were live rock and live plants and the tiniest of basketball hoops with a little orange plastic ball on the gravel.

Hernando continued to provide cuddling and kissing, still trying to bring Sparkle's attention forward from whatever nightmare he'd walked through to get here. "It's okay now, baby. You're here, you're safe. This Baltimore hasn't gone strange."

This Airbnb was going to be so clean by the time they left it, the owner would probably end up wondering if maybe it ought to be the tenants being paid for their time.

"Sure wasn't Baltimore out there," Sparkle mumbled, clinging fast. "Was really, really not Baltimore. Was like... was like another place where Fandom went all wrong but worse, like, inside-out worse and smoke and sirens and--"

That was a full-body shudder, right there. And a bit of pressing his face into Hernando's shoulder for good measure.

"You are safe now," Hernando assured him, cuddling him tighter and heading them in the direction of the couch. There was a pitcher of a mixed drink, blueberry mojito, waiting on the table and also a pair of wine glasses. "Come and sit, baby." Paused a second and asked gently, "Or would you rather shower first?"

The smoke stank was tangible and it was probably doing Sparkle no favors.

It probably said a bit about how few favours it was doing him that Sparkle pretty much immediately jumped on that train of thought, right? With a desperate little nod of his head as he shrugged his backpack from his shoulders and took another moment to crouch down and fish out Pauline from in there, because those had apparently been his 'nope, fucking bail' priorities. The betta, the houseplant. Socks?

He'd remembered socks.

Hadn't remembered pants but he'd sure packed socks. His yellow ones. He had a kind of mini go-bag situation with things he'd need for the bathroom, but that was more basic survival - of course he'd need soap and deodorant and toothpaste and a toothbrush, that stuff was a given. And nail clippers mostly because they were small and they fit.

But a clean shirt?

Nope. The plant, the fish, the Fireball. His embroidery kit. A package of smokes. Some forks?

He was kneeling there looking faintly bewildered with his bag on the floor in front of him, a houseplant (only mildly bruised) in one hand, and three and a half pairs of socks in the other.

"Leave it for now, sweetheart," Hernando said gently, "There's a robe you can wear tonight and we can figure out the rest tomorrow. I have sweatpants and a t-shirt you can wear if we must shop." Because Sparkle wasn't putting those clothes back on until they'd been washed at the least.

"Come get wet and naked with me, baby," he suggested. Mostly so he could see if any of that blood was his.

Sparkle sat there in silence for a moment more, and then breathed out a laugh, something rough and a bit desperate, before just setting his socks and his plant on the floor. That's where those went. Good place for them, right? He sure thought so.

Most of that blood wasn't his, but that was very definitely a 'most.'

"Let's maybe not go back there this week," he murmured as he pulled himself to his feet, "okay?"

So, yes, they'd need to shop.

"We are not going back there this week," Hernando agreed immediately. If this was beyond Sparkle's ability to cope, Hernando would have less than a snowball's chance in hell. "We'll hit up some of the fun clothing stores tomorrow," he offered.

And then he walked backward toward the bathroom. Slowly undoing his shirt one button at a time. He wasn't particularly amorous at the moment, but he usually knew how to get Sparkle's attention and that getting him to focus on literally anything but what he'd dealt with to get here would be good.

If that meant a strip tease and an open invitation, whatever worked and he'd play to his strengths.

"Fun clothing stores," Sparkle echoed, nodding. Kind of trailing along behind, watching Hernando with a wry... tired? With a smile, anyway. It wasn't all there, but he was aware of what Hernando was doing, all the same. "Something bright and perky and maybe with butterflies or sunflowers on it. In yellow."

He was babbling. Babbling even as he closed the gap between them and reached to undo the next button, mostly because he was there. Something to do with his hands. A good use of restless energy.

"Something bright, cheerful," Hernando agreed. Between buttons, he tugged Sparkle's shirt in a silent demand to take it off. "Definitely yellow. After all, it will match your socks and you look very fetching in it, baby."

Sparkle nodded a bit. Stood there stupidly for a moment before cluing in to what Hernando was getting at, and then pulling his shirt up and over his head. His chest was smeared with gore and other such smirch, but most of his own actual injuries were on his arms, angry seeping gouges in his forearms from blocking... something. Something sharp, apparently.

"Ta-daaa."

Behold, a Sparkle.

Hernando shrugged out of his own shirt while cataloging the injuries on his boyfriend. The gouges were nasty but they weren't pouring blood.

He reached for the fly of Sparkle's pants. "I bought body wash," because of course he had, "It seems more a grapefruit mint kind of night. It will go well with the mojito." And citrus was a great scent override.

The bathroom wasn't that big and they reached the shower. Without taking his eyes off Sparkle, he reached behind and cranked the water on. The hand wet with spray cupped Sparkle's jaw, telling him, "Still beautiful, baby."

"Mojito night, huh?"

It was still, like, mid-afternoon. But it was definitely a mojito night. Which would be an interesting chaser for Fireball.

"... Gonna take a lot of mojitos. Fireball's faster."

Someone was still sulking over his cinnamon syrup regret booze no longer being in his hand, yes.

"We have a lot of mojito," Hernando answered, "and it will not take so much as that. You are not alone." And he wasn't putting up with cinnamon vomit.

He was going to strip them both of pants and get rid of Sparkle's socks - Hernando had been barefoot. Stepping back, he tilted his head back under the spray and leaned against the far wall. Posing? Yes, but also waiting for Sparkle to join him.

It was weird to feel a momentary pang of panic about being too filthy to step into a shower, wasn't it? Because Sparkle was feeling that, there. At least briefly.

"Not alone," he echoed, and then swallowed that stupid feeling and stepped into the shower, pointedly not looking down at the colour of the water as it ran off him and down the drain. "Good, okay, yeah."

"Definitely not alone," Hernando assured him. He let the water run for a moment to get the worst off before pulling Sparkle to him. The kisses were a distraction so he could get the body wash into his hands and begin a campaign to both get Sparkle clean and turn him into jello. Massaging worked as scrubbing, after all.

Plus.. it kept Sparkle where Hernando could touch him, feel the solid fact of him and reassure himself that the physical wounds were, more or less, superficial.

There would be scars where Sparkle's arms had been gouged at, yeah, but there was nothing terribly dangerous, unless one counted the risk of infection. God only knew where those things had been.

Which was presumably another reason for cleaning up, yes.

"I ever mention," Sparkle murmured as Hernando worked at scrubbing him down, "how fond of your hands I am?"

They were very good hands, doing a very good job at helping Sparkle calm down some.

"I believe you might have mentioned that. Once or twice," Hernando teased him, working the soap up into Sparkle's hair to massage his scalp. It wasn't shampoo but that wasn't important at this point. Getting the gunk off Sparkle, reassuring both his boyfriend and himself with touch, and letting the little mint tinglies help Sparkle with a physical cue that said 'clean' was the goal. His movements were methodical but not rushed. When he found a tension spot, he worked at it until it gave up.

Just.. letting Sparkle chill. Letting the adrenaline work itself out, letting the alcohol he already had onboard - and god, he hoped Sparkle had not consumed half the damn bottle in one go but also he wouldn't have been surprised - take hold.

Once he'd cleared as much of the back of Sparkle as he could reach, he guided him into a turn. Letting his back rest against Hernando's chest so he could work on the front. Kind of cuddling Sparkle's head back against his neck and shoulder.

"Have I ever mentioned how fond of you my hands are?"

"Probably," Sparkle murmured, leaning... not actually at all lightly against Hernando as he was guided around, "whenever I tell you I like your hands, maybe?"

He sighed a little, closing his eyes. Realizing a moment later that doing so had been a mistake, because when he couldn't see anything at all, his mind wanted to fill in the blanks with something noteworthy, and twisted uncanny valley horror beasts definitely fit that bill. With a little whine he opened his eyes again and turned his face to press into Hernando's neck as best as he could from that angle.

"So just a few times," he teased gently. Hernando leaned his head so he could rub his chin against the side of Sparkle's head. He knew that whine.

It started with a soft bit of humming, a tune he'd heard on the radio earlier. The lyrics had appealed to him. After a moment, he began to sing quietly.

Hands, put your empty hands in mine
And scars, show me all the scars you hide
And hey, if your wings are broken
Please take mine so yours can open too
'Cause I'm gonna stand by you
Oh, tears make kaleidoscopes in your eyes
And hurt, I know you're hurting, but so am I
And love, if your wings are broken
Borrow mine so yours can open too
'Cause I'm gonna stand by you
Even if we're breaking down, we can find a way to break through
Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you
Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you
Even if we can't find heaven, I'm gonna stand by you
Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you
Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you..

His voice was lower than Rachel Patten's, it's true, and he was singing very quietly, mostly just a constant murmur of words to a tune while his hands worked. Sparkle was mostly clean at this point but he felt no need to stop. It wasn't more than superficially about the physical grime anyway.

Aw, Hernando. Sparkle breathed out another soft sound, something close to a laugh as he realized what was being hummed, there.

"Mushball," he accused, fondly.

Gratefully.

"What did you just call me?" Hernando murmured with obviously fake affront, pecking a small kiss onto the side of Sparkle's head, "Do you truly think it wise to call me names while I have you naked and vulnerable and in a compromising position in the shower?"

Yeah. Sure. Big threat.

"Pffffft, wise," Sparkle murmured. "That's me. Totally a font of unparalleled wisdom, never questioned before, ever ever..."

Since he was here, he was totally going to just leave a little kiss there on Hernando's neck. Anywhere else and he'd be nomming. But neck-biting immediately following monster trauma was a no-go.

"No, you are a brat," Hernando teased but absolutely arched his neck in case Sparkle wanted more skin to play with. Let his hands drift up the chest to work his fingers against the muscles across the collarbone and shoulders. Working out the tension and the knots as he found the spots. Doing what he could to reduce the amount of 'sore' Sparkle would be tomorrow.

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