bloodyrockgod | (no subject)

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bartleby

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[ooc: post first date. yes, seriously messing with milli-time.]

Charlie sits cross-legged on the bed, guitar in his arms, playing a song of happiness.

It was a very good night. Practically perfect. The only thing that would make this better would be to not be alone in the morning--but he tells himself there's plenty of time.

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"Yeah. I do." Bartleby smiles and kisses his forehead. "But... something just happened."

"Oh? Something bad, I take it." He leans his head on his hand and combs the other through Bartleby's hair. "Your fever's gone."

"Uh. Yeah. I feel better, actually." He looks surprised, as though he hadn't noticed.

"And, yeah. Something bad. I think."

"Uh-oh." He moves back to lean against the pillows and pulls Bartleby into his arms. "Tell Charlie everything. I'll make it better." He strokes Bartleby's forhead with his palm.

"Mmm." Bartleby rests his forehead in the hollow between Charlie's neck and shoulder. "Have you met someone called Lochiel of Solinde?"

"Can't say that I have. What did he do?" Truly tasteless jokes hover on the tip of his tongue, but he just kisses the top of Bartleby's head instead. Now is not the time to upset him.

"He... did something. I have no clue. We appear to be bonded together."

Charlie's hand stops moving through Bartleby's hair. " . . . bonded . . ?"

"Not purposely." Bartleby lifts his head. "Just... I can hear his thoughts, he can hear mine. Or something. I don't know."

Charlie frowns: this makes very little sense to him. "Can you hear him right now?"

[ooc: lunch, back in 30]

"Uh. Not clearly. Just... sort of vague feelings. If I concentrate. He's not happy, I know that." He sits up. "I don't even know this guy. Why the fuck?"

"Did he tell you anything about it? Like, why him? Why you? Why today?" He pulls Bartleby back, stroking his face to calm him--and himself.

"No." Bartleby shakes his head, but settles again. Mostly. "He just looked freaked-out and went away. He said there was someone he could ask."

"Can't say that I blame him," Charlie murmurs. "I'd freak out too." He kisses the top of Bartleby's head again. "I'm guessing nothing like that has happened to angels before. Bonding to some random bloke, I mean."

If there's a little pain in his voice, it's not because he wants it there.

"No. Definitely not." Bartleby kisses Charlie's chin.

"Well, if neither of you want it then I'm sure it was some kind of mistake and he'll get it straightened out. You don't need anybody else in your head. 'Cept maybe me and that's just 'cause I'm persistent."

Bartleby has to grin a little. "Yeah. 'Cept you, love."

[ooc: fade to black and get back to the present continuity?]

"Right. I dig in and set up house." He knocks his knuckles lightly against Bartleby's temple. "Can't get me out of your head."

He tucks Bartleby's head beneath his chin and closes his eyes.

[ooc: sure thing--schmoop ahoy ;)]

Bartleby listens to Charlie's heartbeat. "You can't you know," he murmurs, and also closes his eyes.

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