storybroken | [LOCATION: MAIN STREET]

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trip tucker (friar tuck)

[LOCATION: MAIN STREET]

[Trip liked his alcohol. That much everyone knew. Rarely a day went by when he didn't have a drink of some sort. But given the responsibilities of both of his jobs, he rarely got drop dead stinking drunk.

At last call tonight, he'd passed that 5 beers ago. Everything, from Mal's admission then avoiding him to the usual feeling in the pit of his stomach that was somehow made worse by the situation, had come to head and he just hadn't been able to stop.

And now he was walking home through the deserted street, abet slowly and with many detours, so as to avoid the disappointed looks from Leo and Felix. Everything was funny and nothing hurt. For the moment.

And that telephone pole looked fun to swing around right about now.]

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[At some point during Mal's conversation with himself, Trip passes out. At what part, he wouldn't have been able to tell you since he wasn't going to remember any of this in the morning anyway. But it is of note that the kiss to the forehead causes a small content smile before he curls up into the different but comforting smelling sheets.

The next morning, the first thing Trip knows is pain. He didn't even bother opening his eyes, he just curls into a fetal position around his aching head. Finally, he growls and uncurls, blinking his eyes open as he peers around the strange room he'd woken up in. Where the hell was he? What the hell happened last night?

The pain in his head and the rolling of his stomach reminds him vaguely of what happened re: getting blind stinking drunk and he makes a run for the bathroom.

Finally, after much longer then he'd ever admit that include hugging the toilet and then the sink, he staggers to the door of the bed room and cautiously calls out] Hello?

[Honestly? He's a little afraid of who was going to answer. If anyone answered him at all.]

[ Chris usually doesn't invite himself over to Mal's. Most of the time, it comes after a night of drinking or dinner, neither of which are totally Chris's own idea — it tends to be the only way Mal can convince his cousin to spend time with him, so the excuse is used sparingly.

He usually doesn't invite himself over. Now he finds himself in the kitchen, putting together some sort of breakfast for Mal and himself. It's a delay tactic, pretending everything is all right and that he can call right back into the mundane without facing the descending spiral his life is becoming. Chris isn't the type to acknowledge it, but some part of him just knows that's what it is and he finds that he prefers it over stopping and examining everything else.

So the fact that something already pops out of the woodwork to shake him out of the veneer of normalcy is, well, surprising to say the least. Chris pauses from where he was cutting up the sausage (quietly as possible; he knows how light a sleeper Mal can be) and glances up at the call. ]

... Trip?

[There is a long pause as Trip registers who the voice belongs too. It sounds like...]

Chris? That you?

Where the hell am I?

[He put a hand to his head as he walked toward the voice and fumbled for a chair once he got to the kitchen. Then his head falls to the table and just stays there.]

Well, not my place.

[ It's an automatic answer, a placeholder while he takes in the situation. Trip is at Mal's place. Trip is coming from down the hallway to the bedrooms and not the direction of the living room and Chris is all-too-aware of Mal's interest in Trip. That doesn't mean anything adds up, however. Trip's monster hangover might explain part of it, but not all. ]

You don't know where you are?

Yeah, that's real helpful there.

[His tone is annoyed but Trip couldn't help it. Chris didn't answer his question.]

'course ah don't! Think I woulda asked otherwise? [He lifts his head for a moment to give Chris a half hearted glare before dropping it again.] Last thing I remember was leavin' the bar ta walk home. Then there was somethin' 'bout a telephone pole and...

[Mal. He remembers Mal. But nothing else. Nothing that was said, just that the other man had been there. Trip groans. Shit, how badly had he just fucked everything up?] I remember yer cousin happenin' upon me on his way home an' that's it.

[ Chris takes a detour on the way to the fridge, grabs the kettle from the corner of the counter and begins to fill it in the sink. He glances over his shoulder to keep an eye on Trip as he moves about, not sure he wants to keep him out of sight. ]

That'd make sense. [ The kettle goes on the stove and Chris turns back to the rest of his breakfast ministrations. ] You're in Mal's apartment right now. You sure you don't remember anything that happened after that?

[Trip is content to just sit at the table and hold his bounding head. It is the only way he could answer Chris' questions.]

Not a lick. Ya think I wouldn't know where...

[Then it hits him what Chris has said about where he was. His head comes up quickly, ignoring his headache.]

WHAT?! This is Mal's place? What the hell am I doin' here?! Why the hell would he bring me here if he won't even talk ta me?

[ Chris furrows his brow at Trip's outburst, but only slows slightly as he mulls it over. ]

It's Mal.

[ ... as if that explains why. In a way, it does, only without those very important things called "specifics". ]

What were you saying about a telephone pole?

That don't explain nothin'!

[It didn't! He didn't know anything about Mal, to be honest, and he'd had never had the chance to find out, what with first thinking Mal didn't like him and then having Mal run from him.]

He won't look at me much less talk ta me. How am ah supposed to know anything, huh?

And...ah don't remember anything else. Just the telephone pole.

Trust me, it explains enough.

[ Chris runs a hand through his hair, then goes to retrieve the eggs. ]

Heck of a thing to remember. Where is Mal, anyway?

Maybe to his cousin it does. Ta me it don't.

[He is more just grumbling now as his raised voice had only made his headache throb.]

Hell if I know. If I knew that, I wouldn't a asked where I was. I assume he's in his bed. An' can I say, that spare room is prety dull.

[So dull, so how was he supposed to know it was actually Mal's room.]

There's not many other ways to explain it.

[ Here, Chris raises a brow. ]

What, hammocks are dull now?

For God's sake, try. I'd like ta know somethin' 'bout this man who claims to be in love with me, despite not actually ever talkin' ta me.

[Maybe it was the hangover and accompanying headache but Trip is so tired of this run around that he is just at the end of his rope.]

Hammock? What hammock? Chris, I got a poundin' headache, now ain't the time fer games.

Like what? He's Mal. One of those really smart dumb guys you hear about all the time.

[ Chris leans his hip against the counter, eyes trailing to the kettle. Not whistling yet, but beginning to rattle. ]

No games, Trip. ... not now, anyway. Assuming you're not so hungover that you wouldn't notice climbing out of a hammock this morning, you weren't in the guest room.

At this point, I'd just settle for his favorite color. Smart dumb [He snorts softly] That's puttin' it mildly.

[Trip frowns to himself.] I...wasn't in the guest room?

Red.

Nah, guest room has a hammock. [ Chris just isn't going to mention that the hammock is more than unofficially his... ]

Re...oh. Huh.

The guest room has a hammock. [Trip has to say it and even then it took another minute for it to sink in.] So...I slept in Mal's bed. In his room. An' he must of slept in the guest room.

[There is a loud thunk as his head hit the table. This was getting too confusing. Why was Mal torturing him like this?]

Mine's green, by the way.

[ The steam begins to whine as it escapes from the kettle. ]

You sure you didn't see him anywhere in the bed when you got up?

[ ... as if on cue, the whine quickly morphs into a shrill whistle. ]

And mine's yellow. [He rolls his eyes, not in the mood for this.

Until, he looks down at his borrowed clothes, which is easy since his head is still resting on the table.] These are yours aren't they?

[And now he is glaring at you, Chris.] Ya think I woulda asked where I was otherwise? I think I woulda remembered that!

[When the kettle whistled, there was a loud yelp from back where the bedrooms were that was soon followed by a very large thud and the annoyed shout of "Christopher!" which was a sign that the kettle had woken up Mal and made him him fall out of the hammock.

It's a few moments later that Mal stumbles out into the kitchen, still wearing his clothes from last night and still somewhat asleep, not noticing Trip at first.]

What did I tell you about sneaking into my apartment? And you're cooking breakfast? I'm not even going to ask what trouble you've gotten into now.

[And there's the moment that he notices Trip and groans.]

...I thought that last night was all some sort of horrible dream.

[ Before Chris can reply to the affirmative of Trip's question, Mal makes his spectacular appearance and Chris rounds on him instead. ]

You put him in my clothes? Did you actually do something last night?

[ That said, Chris begins moving, grabbing a set of tea packets and a mug, beginning to put something together. ]

No trouble, by the way, but thanks for the vote of confidence. [ No more than usual, anyway. ]

[Trip's glare moves from Chris to Mal once he graces them with his presence. He knows he should thanks Mal for taking care of him last night but right now, he's really not in the mood.]

Oh thanks. Why don'tcha give me my clothes back and I'll get outta yer hair so ya can continue to avoid me. Since apparently it was a horrible dream an' all.

[He makes to stand, sways for a moment as his head pounds again, and immediately sits back down.] After my head stops poundin'. Then I'll go.

[Mal doesn't know who to deal with first, but he decides to answer Chris first.]

Yes, we did something. I brought him home and dumped him in the shower fully clothed. He smelled something fierce. I had to put his clothes in the wash and let him wear your clothes because mine would be too small.

[And now he turns his attention towards Trip.]

I thought it was a horrible dream because you were singing Holding Out For A Hero and complimented my ass, as well as quite a few other embarrassing things.

[ Chris stares at Mal, then turns to Trip. After a moment, he goes back to Mal. ]

Oh. Is that all?

[ Whatever tea Chris is making has about steeped, so he pulls the bag out and sets it aside, sliding the mug in front of Trip's face. It isn't the most pleasant of smells, but at least it doesn't sizzle or bubble. ]

[Trip's cheeks color pink as he hears what he'd done the night before but he wasn't going to let Mal win that easily.]

Well, I apologize for my singin' but are ya really gonna protest my lookin' at yer ass? Ain't that somethin' yer supposed ta like?

[He ignores Chris' smart ass comment to tenatively sniff the cup in front of him.] What's this?

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