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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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.

"I'm sure," Sparkle muttered, "there are wise brats out there somewhere. Just gotta know where to look."

God, Hernando's hands were magic, weren't they? Because he was going to find a lot of tension there. Apparently the alcohol hadn't done much for that just yet.

"Yes but would I want one that I do not already have?" Hernando asked in return. Mostly inane chatter to keep Sparkle from thinking too much. He could tell Sparkle had been hitting, or probably stabbing, something just from the way the muscles were tightened.

"You have very nice shoulders, baby," he murmured, "Have I mentioned this? Because it is true." Even when they were tensed and stressed. He didn't particularly want that but.. he couldn't complain that the muscles were currently well defined under his hands.

"I mean, I guess I use 'em for stuff," Sparkle allowed.

Because he actually did work with his knives. It'd be a shame to have them and leave them sit. Hell, he did a lot of exercise he didn't actually cop to, especially lately. This summer seemed like it wasn't going to give him a choice in the matter. Apparently, he wasn't wrong about that.

"Mmmhm," Hernando purred, and no he was not thinking of knifework. Though he had seen a little of that during their self-defense trainings with Kaidan. Which Hernando was still sort of hopeless at. Fingers worked their way south, following the lines of tension down Sparkle's torso. "I am also exceedingly fond of your chest. Especially here, this area along your ribs." He traced the area, following the ridges and hollows down the sides of the chest before crossing to the center and working their way back up.

That got another soft huff from Sparkle, yes. Something trying very hard to be a laugh.

"Oh? Is there any reason why that spot in particular?"

"I like the way the muscles move," Hernando murmured, "The tiny little shivers when I'm kissing you here and the more vigorous movements when you stretch in the mornings. The way it plays into the sway of your back." And yup, his hands slid down to that, the area just above his hips. "The way the light plays against it when you're laying on your side, small shadows between your ribs that rise and fall with each breath."

I mean. You asked.

"Now I know you're not calling me skinny," Sparkle teased, smiling a little in spite of himself. Hey, he had been, most of his life. These days it was less 'skinny' and more, 'lean.' "But, okay, I'm starting to get the appeal..."

"Hnnn-nh," Hernando shook his head, "Not skinny. Wiry, maybe. It's all muscle along here, baby." He traced the muscle along his ribs again. Lighter, not enough to tickle. Chasing the few remaining suds away under the spray of the shower. Following the line of muscle down the sides of his abdomen.

Wiry. Yeah, that worked for Sparkle. He was a terrier. Or a cat? He was leaning a little more into Hernando's touch, anyway, while his mind idly tried to pick out words, while he let the distraction carry him off.

"So it is," he murmured. "Huh. Weird."

When had that happened, anyway? He hadn't really been paying attention, between when Atton had started training him after high school and now.

"My panther," Hernando murmured against his ear. He smiled and tented his fingers, drawing the fingertips across Sparkle's abdomen toward his chest. Together, not spread apart - nothing like claws. To make the muscles tense. Sparkle didn't realize just how many muscles he had; Hernando knew this and also that he paid far, far more attention to Sparkle's body than Sparkle himself often did. It wasn't a six pack, no. Nothing nearly that defined and nothing truly noticeable until he tensed it.

And when? Hernando ran his palm over the taut muscle and made a very particular noise, possessive and appreciative all at once. Right against Sparkle's ear.

And that drew another soft chuckle out of Sparkle something fond and maybe faintly perplexed, something that was still half-in and half-out of a nightmare, the water hitting his arms bringing a fresh new sting to the gouges there.

"Beginning to think I don't spend nearly enough time flexing," he mumbled.

"Mm, you do," Hernando told him with a smile, "You're just not paying attention to it when it is happening. I usually have you at least a little distracted." He drew his fingers across again and murmured, "Not that I object to more time to admire you. It's a shame I can't draw."

He could, he sketched quite decently, but Hernando was far more harsh about his own skill than anyone else would have been.

"Only one way to get better, right?" Sparkle's smile actually managed to start looking like one, now. "But god, imagine me sitting still long enough."

Hernando could be delightfully distracting.

"I would have to catch you when you were sleepy but not yet asleep," Hernando answered with a smile, "You are very calm then. Perhaps I will sometime make a sketch of my sleepy panther, laying in a sprawl with his eyes half-lidded but still very watchful."

Which meant, of course, that his hand smoothed up Sparkle's torso to touch his face. First tracing the arch of his brow, then down to his lips. "Watching me with that very particular little cat smile on your lips."

The content one that said 'mine all mine'. That smile.

Hey, Sparkle knew that smile! He wasn't quite there yet, but he was leaning his face into Hernando's hand. Then seemed like a good time for it, at least.

"It's the smile of a guy who knows that what he's got in his life is good," he murmured. "Cat with the cream."

"Mmmmhm," Hernando hummed while his fingers gently explored all his favorite features of Sparkle's face, "That smile, yes. Where your dimples are playing hide and seek, showing when you catch me watching you." Which was pretty much always.

He kissed the side of Sparkle's head and murmured, "Turn around. I need to kiss you and then I'm going to fix the mess I've made of your hair." Translation: He wanted to play with your hair and had both shampoo and conditioner as an excuse.

Sparkle hummed a little, but turned around anyway.

"I promise it was a mess already," he murmured. "But you're welcome to fix it." He wouldn't complain.

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