designedtoparty | JOINT POST ∞ VIDEO

[In an interesting incident of a device actually hating the other person involved more than its owner, the video flips on, inconveniently, as per usual. It's Chris' room, if you're used to recognising it, and his bed, and him IN the bed, draped over another person.

Luckily for the Network, no bits are exposed, however, enough shoulder and back and at least one leg is showing to indicate nakedness of both bodies. His, and (evident instantly from the device in question, if not also the hair) Nathan's bodies.

At this point, Nathan is just waking up. Raising his head a little, he grimaces, trying to shove Chris off him.]

Jesus. Did you put on weight? I remember you being a lot less heavy last-- [Pause. Is that...? His voice rises a few pitches as he finishes that sentence.] night?

[Chris had a busy night. He's tired. It takes him a while to register anything. His death grip gets actually WORSE momentarily as he moans tiredly.] Mmmmnnnrrrff...can't be work yet...don' wanna-- [And then he opens his eyes a bleary crack because something doesn't seem right. What was yesterday? Something happened yesterday. Nathan is slim enough that it takes another moment for it to really hit and then he pulls his arm away, his expression still dopey but horrified-dopey.] I din't....I weren't even... [And then he tries to get away, half functioning, and falls right out of the bed, landing with a thump on the side opposite the camera. There is a muffled "Ow."

Nathan cringes, clambering over to peer over the edge of the bed. Luckily for any potential viewers, Nathan's still tangled enough in the sheets he remains unexposed.] Weren't even a man? Are those the words you're looking for? Because you sure as hell didn't look like one from where I was standing.

[Chris' words are quiet enough, even with a bed in the way of him and the microphone.] I weren't. An' I didn't think I was one neither, okay?!

Oh, sure. [Judging by his tone, Nathan's very suspicious.] So, this isn't some kind of weird gay plot, trying to turn me into a queer?

I'm not a poof! You would've known if I weren't a bird last night anyway, wouldn't you. [Or not talking about that, actually because it DIDN'T HAPPEN.] If it's a plot, it's the deities, an' it hasn't bloody WORKED, alright?!

And what if it was an illusion? You wouldn't be the first man to try and mislead me in this area. Although I'll be the first to admit you did it better than most.

Hey, if you still had the body you did last night, I might even have suggested we go another round.

[....silence. For a bit. Chris is giving Nathan an even more horrified expression than the previous one, even if you can't see it with the bed in the way.] Jus'......jus'......can we not talk about that? Ever? [He gets up onto his knees, still sort of hunched over, to grab the duvet and drape it over and around himself before standing up and heading for the door, trying not to even look at Nathan. He stops offscreen to turn around and speak tersely.] Y'need t' get out, too. An' quietly, like.

[Nathan is not best pleased by Chris' lack of reaction.] What, so that's it? You're not even going to offer me breakfast? [Sliding off the bed, Nathan scrabbles around for his boxer shorts. He gets dressed mostly offscreen, though he isn't quiet about it, intentionally banging into the wall a few times. Lastly, he goes to pick up his device. Which is when he notices it recording. He grins, because clearly that's hilarious, then calls offscreen.]

Hey, cop feller! I think I may have been filming.

[Offscreen, there is a squeak from Chris.] Whaaaaatt?!?!?

[ooc; Green is Chris, Orange is Nathan. All responses will be set a little bit later, when Nathan's out of there and Chris has stopped freaking out.]

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[Nathan steps out of the bedroom just in time to hear that last bit.]

Wait, does that mean you're cooking for me, after all? Because I'm starved here.

[Like something from a horror movie, Sam's head sloooowly turns to stare ~~in disbelief~~ at the rather intrusive appearance of Nathan in Chris' doorway.]

YOU...

[He gapes slightly and turns back to address the closed bathroom door with a slightly accusatory tone in his voice. His arm launches out to point at Nathan as if his flatmate would be able to see exactly what he's pointing at...]

Chris... mind telling me what he's doing here?

[Oh lord, the voice of Nathan, oh CHRIST, Sam. Knowing. Everything. Horrible.]

Yeah.

[Chris retreats farther away from the door by shuffling and pulls the duvet over his head as well.]

[Nathan reaches out to slap Sam's hand down.]

Hey, didn't your mother ever teach you not to point? That's very rude of you.

As is speaking about me like I'm not here. I could tell you just as easily what I'm doing here as he could!

[Sam turns with a warning glance towards Nathan.]

You. Shut up.

[He starts to turn back to address Chris again but changes his mind and speaks to Nathan instead.]

No, better yet. Get Out.

[Chris, still hearing Sam, albeit muffled, breathes a premature sigh of relief from beneath his duvet shield.]

[Sam's warning look doesn't do much to help. Nathan just changes his expression from offended to hurt.]

Out? You mean you don't want to hear about our passionate night of lovemaking?

[Sam had been about ready to knock on the door again to get something, anything out of Chris. This was his mess, lover's quarrel, whatever. And there he was locked inside like some traumatized victim.

But Nathan's outburst made Sam redirect his agitation.]

No, I don't. Didn't you hear me? I said... get out. [His hand shot out to point in the direction of the door.]

Now.

[In what way is Chris NOT the traumatised victim, here? Especially with Nathan saying....THAT to his BOSS. Oh god, please don't ask, please don't say anything else, get out, Nathan.

Chris puts his arms over and around his head to clutch at it for something to clutch at.]

[Nathan barely manages to keep a straight face for a second before he snorts, giving into his laughter.]

All right, touchy. I'll leave you and your boyfriend to it.

Just go easy on him, yeah? He had a very busy night.

[And because he apparently hasn't pushed his luck enough already, he pauses to fish out his cigarettes, leisurely picking one out, sticking it between his teeth and lighting it.

Then, Sam will be relieved to know, he saunters out of the flat.]

[Sam waited until the door shut before he let himself speak again. He took a deep breath, counting slowly in his head until the tension eased from his body.]

.....

[He put a hand on the door frame and spoke with a bit more sympathy.]

Chris. He's gone. You alright, then?

[Chris comes out slightly from under the duvet, tries to speak--can't. He clears his throat, and tries again.]

Said I was, didn't I?

Right... then would you mind telling me what you were thinking? What if Piglet had been here?

Really, Chris...

[Just loud enough to be heard outside:] But it weren't me doin' the thinking, was it? Cos I'm not a poof.

Not a...

Chris, it's not about personal preferences. Other than maybe who you chose to bring back to the flat...

...yeah, well. I still ain't one.

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