myownface | MCA #4, Saturday Morning

Deep breath. Exhale.

...

Deep breath.

...

Exhale.

Dial.

Deep breath.

And hit send.

Sparkle had a call to make today. One he'd been putting off since forever, and his last excuse had run out. The island was back to normal. He didn't have to worry about The Big Stuff being completely derailed because he woke up one morning underwater or he couldn't leave the house because there were dinosaurs or on account of nightmarish penance zombies. Dr. Lecter had given him the number to phone, and yeah, he knew it was Saturday and yeah he knew it was early, but he was kind of hoping he could just leave a message and wait for a phone call back on... Tuesday. Because long weekend! See? Smart. Sparkle was super smart. It wasn't procrastinating if there was Labour Day to contend with.

Somebody actually answered the phone.

"Um."

That wasn't supposed to happen.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

"Hi, uh. My name is Sparkle," and ugh, he felt like he wanted to vomit just spitting out his last name, too, but he kind of had to in this case. "Dr. Lecter suggested I call you. Yeah. Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He said you're probably the best lawyer for... a couple of cases I have, I guess. Yeah. Yeah, I can talk right now, sure. So..."

It was not a short phone call.

Dr. Lecter had picked a good lawyer for the job, for sure.

But by the time Sparkle had hung up the phone again, he was looking a little green. That was fine. This was fine. It was all going to go super well, and...

If anybody needed him, he was going to just be burying his face in a pillow and screaming himself hoarse.

Sparkle Vs. The Criminal Justice System was off to an excellent start.

[OOC: Open! Probably not happy! But open! TW: Both threads contain some talk of child abuse/grooming.]

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"I know," Sparkle said, looking at his knees. He pulled in a slow breath. "I want my life back."

And this was the best way to do it.

"I know," Atton said.

It wasn't what he would've done. But what he would've done was-- probably not the thing anybody should do.

"And I'm gonna have your back for as long as you need me to."

"Thanks, man."

Sparkle nodded a little, processing that in silence before blowing out a soft laugh and turning a wry smile up at him.

"I'm gonna be a fucking mess," he noted.

In case there was really any question about that.

"What else is new?" Atton said dryly. "Just don't let me catch you scrubbing my room, because I've only just gotten the bleach fumes out from last time."

Gross exaggeration, but well, Atton.

Well, that got a soft chuff of a laugh out of Sparkle, at least.

"That's fine," he replied, "it's been a while since I could see my reflection in the bathroom floor, anyway. I'll totally make do with that, instead."

"Or even better, call me instead, I'll get you drunk and we can spend an afternoon rooting for one of those glassblowers on Netflix to inhale," Atton said.

Ah, screw it. He was reaching to give Sparkle that hug, now.

And there went Sparkle, kind of oozing into that hug. Wasn't gonna cry. Wasn't gonna. But was definitely going to latch on for dear life.

"I'm gonna be such a fucking disaster until this is over," he muttered, clinging on. "So, like, sorry in advance for that."

He was gonna pack every stupid onesie he owned.

"Yeah, yeah, your threats don't scare me," Atton muttered, rubbing soothingly at his shoulder. "I know you. You don't have the stones to go full pathetic."

Sparkle grumbled something that wasn't even attempting to be coherent as he thumped his forehead against Atton's shoulder.

"You say that now, but just wait until I've worked through like three pints of ice cream in an afternoon and haven't shaved in a week."

... No, he'd shave. The stubble would drive him right up a post.

"Oh space," Atton said, pulling a face. "I've seen you with facial hair, and you can't pull it off. I'll shave it off in the middle of the night for everyone's sake, don't think that I won't!"

If you grew it, you had to respect it, Sparkle! ... Like Atton, who put a dumb amount of work he would never admit to anyone to maintaining just right amount of scruff.

"See, now I'm almost tempted to try just to see if you'll make good on that threat," Sparkle said, and was smiling a little as he leaned back again. "Atton Rand, stealth-shaver."

"I've stealth-done a lot in my life, I'll have you know," Atton grumbled.

"Stealth-shaved, though?" A beat. "Was it a good shave?"

"A little... lopsided," Atton said grudgingly.

"Which would be better than a week's worth of stubble, huh?"

Long pause.

"I mean... Funnier."

"... Fair." A beat. "But then I might have to return the favour, man."

Good luck, bud.

"You're going to what, sneak up on me while I'm asleep?"

"A guy can dream," Sparkle said, and hey, he was only sulking a little bit.

"Sure he can," Atton said, patting Sparkle on the head.

See Sparkle. See Sparkle stick out his tongue at Atton for that.

... This was kind of the brainless stupid he needed to help get his mind off of that phone call.

"Guess I'll have to keep shaving, then. But I make no promises about pants."

"Since when does anybody wear pants in this house anyway?" Atton said. "Just make sure the underwear stays on."

"I can probably muster the energy for underwear," Sparkle decided. "Just so long as I have my ice cream."

Priorities.

"Fine, fine, you drive a hard bargain," Atton sighed. "But I'm vetoing any ice cream but delivery tonight."

"Delivery sounds right about my speed," Sparkle agreed. "And maybe noodles? I could go for noodles."

Noodles were the all-purpose no-effort sustenance. Hard to go wrong with noodles.

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