singularityderp | so there was this once drunk party last night...

[Heeeeeey best buddy. Guess who is snuggling you in his sleep.

And guess what he isn't wearing :D]

[~~Clothes!~~ A helmet!

Gibson is only partially aware of the fact that there's someone else near him (really near him, actually)... but this is kind of nice. He's good riiiiiiight here. Yep.]

[ooc: sob i'm so sorry, internet is sporadic until tomorrow-ish]

Edited 2011-05-08 02:25 (UTC)

[~~Probably that too!~~ Exactly!

Anon isn't making any move to let go of him or to even wake up. Because this is comfy and nice. And non-hangovery. Did we mention it's really nice?]

((OOC: It's okay! I can wait <3))

[It's so nice, and--that's an arm.

What is that arm doing wrapped around his chest.

Gibson opens one eye to stare accusingly at the offending arm, silently willing it to move off him... and, well, it does nothing. Clearly the best solution is to just shift to the side a little bit and close his eyes, because hell if he's looking at that light again. (Was the sun brighter than usual? Because it sure seemed that way.)]

[ooc: <333333]

[That arm is wrapped around your chest because he was trying to keep you from moving. Which clearly isn't working. But Anon will fix that.

The static overpowers his voice as he mumbles sleepily against Gibson's back, and he wakes just enough to crowd him again. Mostly to bury his face somewhere that he can't see the light. It hurts so bad.]

[... hey now, Gibson's not a sunshade.

He just twists again, flipping himself facedown into the mattress, because that damned light is too bright... and he's really pretty comfy here, to be honest.]

[That's Gibson's job right now :|

After he loses his precious shade, Anon has no choice but to crack one eye halfway open as he flails a bit to find something to cover his face. He comes up with a pillow and back against Gibson a little, head buried under the pillow.

Mm, comfy and dark. This is juuuuuuuust right.]

[Much better.

Gibson shifts a little in the bed, sliding up to--the person next to him.

Wait. What.

What.

Gibson tips his head to one side, trying to figure out the best way to sneak a glance at whoever might be next to him without the light feeling like it's stabbing him in the head.]

[Anon hasn't even really thought about it. Aside from the fact that he's in a state of undress he usually isn't, this is just him back in their apartment like old times. Right?

... At least he's pretty sure that's Gibson. Maybe.

He's already half-awake anyway, so he might as well just it over with. He doesn't... quite unbury his head just yet, but the pale white circuit lines on his back match where his circuits are on his suit. He squirms slightly as he tries to decide how to avoid the light and get up at the same time.

... congratulations, you have an unarmored Anon sleeping with you?]

[It's the state of undress that's throwing Gibson off, really. He doesn't mind waking up snuggled next to Anon--User knows they woke up like that often enough in their apartment that it's not such a big deal--but

... well, Anon's certainly wearing a lot more clothes usually... but minor detail, right?]

... hey, buddy.

[--oh wow, he sounds kinda wrecked. And why does his voice seem so loud? Ouch.]

[It's not exactly every day that Anon sleeps without his suit on. Or that he does anything with any part of it decompiled, actually. Though hearing Gibson gets him to shift the pillow just a bit, peeking out from under it.

Yep. No helmet either, Gibson.]

... you sound terrible.

[Not that Anon sounds any better. Also ow, why is everything loud?]

[Gibson just groans, glancing briefly over at Anon--or the fraction of Anon's face that's visible (it'll register in a minute, don't worry; he's just not firing on all cylinders right now)--before mashing his face back into the mattress.]

Good, 'cause I feel like I just got hit with a Recognizer.

[Give him a second to boot up some more, Anon. He'll realize what he said in a moment or two.]

... was that tactless.

[Yes.]

[Yes. Yes it was, Gibson. But the most disapproval that Anon can manage is gently nudging him with an elbow and looking annoyed. As annoyed as he can look when he just wants to find an effective way to hide from the hammering in his head. Aaaaagh.]

Little bit.

[Or a lot bit, even if he doesn't really remember it at all. But he isn't in any shape to rag on Gibson right now.]

Sorry. [At least he sounds mostly contrite? (It doesn't take much to sound pitiful with the sheer, throbbing pain in his head, though.)]

... wait, where's your helmet?

[See Gibson. See Gibson's train of thought bounce around wildly until he finds some way of making this situation make sense.]

[Well, that was an abrupt change of conversation. At least Anon doesn't know how to be baffled by this right now.]

... I do not know.

[Presumably decompiled with the rest of his clothes. He partially lifts up the pillow, squinting at Gibson in the light. Okay yeah, this hurts more. He's just gonna... ostrich his happy self back under the pillow now.]

Oh. ... 'kay.

[On second thought, trying to figure all this out is too much effort right now, and Gibson's not sure he cares. Don't mind him, Anon; he'll just be scooting a little bit closer and burying his head under his pillow now.

Maybe sleeping--or even just the darkness--will make his head feel less like someone's stabbing him repeatedly.]

[Anon only vaguely recalls something about seven minutes in heaven... but if it led to this hell he doesn't want to know.

He nudges back up against Gibson, closing his eyes for a moment. He isn't getting back to sleep with this throbbing pain in his head, but he can at least pretend he will.]

Why is it so bright?

[Can't they close the shade from here or something?]

[Hey, don't look at Gibson for answers. Everything's pretty much a blur, and it doesn't feel as though he can access the data from last night on his disc. This should really be slightly more worrying than it currently is to him.]

Think it's the sun.

[... Gibson will stand up if he has to. But only if he absolutely has to.]

[Anon assumes that his wearable will have something, even if he's certain his disc has nothing about the night on it. He'll worry about that later.]

... Am going to close the curtains.

[He's used to suffering, what's a little more in the name of making it go away more quickly so he can get back to snuggling Gibson while half-asleep.]

[... Anon, honey, if Gibson could see that train of thought? He'd try to make you sit right back down so he could close the curtains for you.

Since he's not psychic, though, he's more than happy to just lie here and let you do it.]

Mmkay. Have fun.

[If people in this house were psychic, things would get so, so uncomfortable for Anon.

As it is, he just slowly hauls himself out of bed and pads towards the window, keeping his eyes closed most of the way. He saw enough of it when he was getting up to navigate.

Except for that stuff on the other side of the bed he couldn't see. But he picks his way through carefully and squints at the window as he shuts the curtains. Ahh, much better.]

[Gibson peeks one eye out from the mattress as Anon heads towards the windows, trying not to squint too much at the hideously bright sunlight. ... what? It's not like he ever really gets a chance to see Anon out of armor. Ever. ~~And he's not even close to fat, so Abraxas can just sit down and shut it.~~

The light immediately becomes more bearable once Anon shuts the curtains, and Gibson turns his head to one side, completely giving up any pretense of subtly watching Anon. (It's not like he was subtle in the first place, however.)]

Thanks.

[His voice is slowly starting to sound better as he talks more, although he still sounds pretty rough around the edges.]

[Anon hadn't bothered to recompile his armor yet because it felt like too much of a hassle, but once he realizes that Gibson is watching him he suddenly becomes self-conscious. He's being stared at. Is there something wrong with him? Is his circuitry weird or something? ~~Oh User, is he really fat like Abraxas said?~~

The sudden lack of Gibson's bare-minimum subtlety doesn't precisely help, either. Anon nods once, nervously tucking loose strands of hair behind his ears as he starts moving toward the other side of the bed again. ... which angle of getting back is the least awkward? Wait. Gibson will be staring anyway. Oh User.]

No problem.

[Still rough, still staticky.
Still not thinking about how nice Gibson sounds with his voice rough like that.

Totally not thinking about that.]

[Hey, it's not staring. Nor is it really ogling ~~much, anyway~~. He just wants to see what Anon looks like, and really remember it this time--without the haze and not-so-subtle wrongness of infection, anyway.]

Want a sheet?

[Don't think he didn't notice that sudden embarrassment, Anon... and it's never too early to start teasing him a little, right?]

[... Is he being teased? He's being teased isn't he. C'mon Gibson, modesty is a good trait to have. We can't all be you. Anon perks slightly at the mention of a sheet, but calculates a response.]

Willing to lose the view?

[This is the most snark that he can manage. And that is a 'yes, dear Users, YES'. He's not used to being unclothed ever, save when he wasn't entirely himself.]

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