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[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

BZZZZZZZ

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[deuceoftears]

"Okay, Doug," Jedao says indulgently. He does some kind of sober aikido that gently shifts Eiffel off of himself and back on the couch next to him. "I care about both of you, though."

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel offers absolutely no resistance to being rolled onto the couch and goes fairly boneless when he's dumped into it, but he still goes to reach up and grab Jedao's face - in doing so he very nearly pokes Jedao in the eye.

"I don't," he whines, his hand falling to cling to Jedao's shirt instead. "Lemme kiss youuuu..."

[deuceoftears]

Jedao catches Eiffel's hand, then presses the back of it against his cheek, the gesture both startlingly affectionate and an effective way of keeping the hand pinned down.

"You can kiss me as much as you want. Whenever you want. I think about kissing you every day. But only if you both mean it."

It's a powerfully strange feeling, heartbreak without pain. Eiffel will regret it, Jedao knows with the blind certainty of old, formative tragedy. Jedao has probably already let it go too far, has made the same unforgivable mistakes all over again. He knows, with the distant certainty that medieval merry-makers knew death would someday come for them, that Communications Officer Eiffel will hate him, probably.

But he doesn't worry about it. He's just - happy he got to be Eiffel's friend for this long. Happy his hand feels so warm against Jedao's cheek, the intimate divots of his metacarpals, the notes of his knuckles.

"Lie down and let me pet your hair some more," Jedao tells him.

[littletonoidea]

The hand being held makes Eiffel blink, slow and dull but deeply affectionate, and he lifts his arm to rest his elbow on the back of the couch and rest his head on his arm.

"'m'kay..." It's a dull slur, barely intelligible as a word, as he sinks into the couch further under the weight of the considerable quantities of alcohol lulling him to sleep. "'m'ber t'turn th'lights off..."

His grip goes slack on Jedao's as his head lolls, and... yeah. He's unconscious almost immediately. It's honestly kind of impressive he manages to stay awake as long as he did.

[deuceoftears]

He props Eiffle against his shoulder until his erection finally goes down, then gently tips Eiffel into draping over his lap in a away that will hopefully stop him from having too many weird muscle cramps when he wakes up. He remembers what Eiffel said about him needing water, so when he sends Gonou a picture of Eiffel's slightly smushed sleeping face to explain why he can't move for the next 10-20 hours, asks for Gonou to bring some water bottles and leave them on the table. Gonou brings a pillow and blanket, too, which Jedao tuck under and around Eiffel respectively, cozily fussing over him. He sips through the rest of Eiffel's last cup and idly finger-combs Eiffel's hair for hours, losing himself in the bouncy texture of it and the strange honey-ooze feeling of peace.

Sometime in the middle of the night, towards morning, the little pink critters trickle and melt away, letting some of the fear and melancholy seep back. But by then Jedao is warm and a little hazy from the alcohol himself, well-soothed by the repetitive rhythm of stroking Eiffel's hair, and it's easy for him to slip in and out of a light doze himself.

[littletonoidea]

There is minimal sign of movement from Eiffel whatsoever, for the entire night and most of the morning after, even after the katydos make their departure.

It's well towards midday the next day when Eiffel shifts meaningfully with a husky groan - like a zombie coming back to life, which is really just a summary of how he feels right now - and his face scrunches as he brings one hand up to rub his sticky, sleep-wrinkled, migraine pounding face.

He hasn't even opened his eyes to realise where he is yet. That's secondary to the fact everything hurts and this sucks and it's not even like he enjoyed it because he didn't want to get drunk in the first place!!!

He just groans again, and lets his face flop into the weird solid pillows he's resting on.

[deuceoftears]

Jedao flicks more easily into full awareness. His hand is still resting in the mass of Eiffel's curls, and he strokes a little, very lightly, aiming for soothing.

"Morning, darling," Jedao murmurs gently, completely unconcerned with the actual time. "There's water."

[littletonoidea]

Oh dear Lord, what did he do to end up face-down in Jedao's lap? He's too sore to even be fully ashamed. The hand in his hair is nice, though, but after a few moments of lingering there he starts pushing himself up to a sitting position.

It's hard to say if he looks more or worse than usual on a general scale, since he's always got the stubble and some minor degree of eye baggage but today he's got distinct and ugly bags under his red eyes, and he's gone pale as he manages to get upright - and then immediately squeezes his eyes shut as the world spins around him.

"Hey, Jedao," he murmurs, and rubs both eyes in a weak pinching motion. "Oh, God."

[deuceoftears]

"Feelings later. Water now," Jedao insists, smooth and gentle, even though his stomach swoops horribly with suddenly crystallizing dread. He reaches to unscrew the cap of one of the water bottles for Eiffel and tentatively hands it to him, not letting go unless he judges Eiffel actually has a decent grip.

[littletonoidea]

He does manage to take the bottle, after a few moments groping blindly because he does not want to uncover his eyes.

"Well. I don't think I vomited," he mumbles, before he takes a slow, careful sip. He doesn't sound any less hoarse when he lowers it. "'s'zat a win?"

[deuceoftears]

If Eiffel doesn't remember...Jedao isn't sure whether to feel horrible or relieved.

"You didn't, no."

The lights had turned back on again in the morning, of course, but Jedao reaches out and flicks the switch with a tiny mothpush, turning the lounge's lunchtime lull into one of quiet dimness.

[littletonoidea]

"Thank God."

And he slumps back into the couch, slouching heavily down into Jedao's shoulder as he very slowly drinks his water.

"Next time I get drunk, could you just knock me out?" he groans. His free hand finds Jedao's and squeezes softly. "Pretty please."

[deuceoftears]

"Yes," he says softly, feeling more and more like a monster, but keeping outwardly calm, squeezing gently back. "I can do that." If that's what Eiffel wants.

[littletonoidea]

He squeezes again, but there's a faint smile in his voice when he says, "Thank you, boo."

He takes another sip and ruminates quietly for a minute. "First of all," he rasps. "I would like to request a bucket please, o benevolent DD. Second, can I get a sitrep on..." He pauses briefly, to swallow thickly. "On the last, like. Whole week?"

[deuceoftears]

Jedao grunts softly, pulling a bucket from under the bar without getting up. It doesn't hurt as much as moving anything heavy, but he still feels an uncomfortable prickle along his bones, like his whole skeleton ate a chili pepper.

He hands Eiffel the bucket before beginning -

"Well, Roman sent the whole ship a dick pic."

Jedao decides this is a good place to establish the whole...vibe. "We had a plague of inhibition-lowering pests."

CW emeto

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel interrupts perfectly with a hearty retch, folding over double with the force of it.

At least he has water to wash his mouth out immediately, and spits it gracelessly into the bucket before he wipes his face.

"Well, that explains the alcohol," he mumbles wearily. "Tell me the truth, doc. How horrible was I?"

Re: CW emeto

[deuceoftears]

"You were sweet. We kissed a lot. I'm sorry."

That's the important bits, Jedao supposes.

"When you think you can keep pills down, Gonou brought you aspirin."

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel feels too sick to blush properly, but his ears turn bright red.

"Oh, God..." It's more of a high, vaguely distressed keen there, and he leans to rest his head on Jedao's shoulder. Even if it lands more on his bicep. "'m so sorry, Jedao..."

[deuceoftears]

Jedao wraps an arm around Eiffel's shoulders, hugs him gently, and hates himself a little more.

"Eiffel, you didn't do anything I didn't enjoy," he says firmly. "I'm the one who took advantage of you when you were drunk."

[littletonoidea]

He tilts his head up try and meet Jedao's eyes, but he has to squeeze them shut when his stomach audibly protests the angle.

"But you didn't..." He shifts his hips, in an unsubtle motion to sit up better, but he doesn't feel anything beyond the general malaise of a still-drunk hangover. "All we did was kiss, yeah? And..." He swallows thickly, and sounds- small, when he asks, "And I- I asked, right? I didn't make you?"

[deuceoftears]

Jedao had gotten perilously close to coming in his pants when Eiffel bit him, but this seems like not the time to mention it.

"Just kissing. And you did ask, and I said please. Darlin, you don't have anything to feel guilty about. I want to kiss you all the time. You literally couldn't make me. I'm the one who shouldn't have let you. But I wanted you so much."

His voice cracks, just a little.

[littletonoidea]

"Hey hey, Jetsetter." His voice is low, going for soothing that might be made better or worse by the huskiness, and makes an effort to sit up and snuggle into Jedao's shoulder. "I was the drunk asshole that came onto you, remember? You're not a bad person."

He manages to drape an arm across Jedao's chest in a weak hug, eyes shut as he buries into Jedao's stubble. "And... uh. Well." And Jedao might feel the face tucked in there heat up sharply. "I've been... kinda sorta wanting to ask for a while now."

[deuceoftears]

"You weren't an asshole," Jedao insists. Except, maybe, when Jedao said please don't regret me and Drunk Party Doug said I don't care, that's not my problem.

It takes a moment of effort for Jedao not to shiver, as the thought passes, like a ghost walking over his grave, a disjointed flinch. He cradles Eiffel gingerly.

"I'm not arguing with you about what kind of person I am," Jedao says firmly, sounding calmer than he feels. "I know you've been kind of wanting to. But the fact is, in your right mind, you haven't." It could be accusatory, but it's not: Jedao's tone is all grace. Whatever Eiffel's reasons for holding back -

"I should've remembered that."

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel grimaces into Jedao's collar. He doesn't like that too-cool, too-polite tone because he knows it means he's hiding what he's actually feeling, he knows that on a gut level.

"You wouldn't have been in that spot if I didn't get wasted, man," he mumbles, tightening his grip. "And I do wanna kiss you. I'm just... scared, I guess. And now I'm scared that I hurt you by doing it like that instead of just manning up and doing it anyway."

See, he doesn't need katydos for candour! He just needs to get over himself!

[deuceoftears]

It's not his fault Eiffel was drunk, but it wasn't his fault Kujen messed with Dhanneth's mind, either. And both times, he knew. Knew and should've known better.

That is a caliber of shit he does not want to put on Eiffel while he has a terrible headache and they are still next to a bucket of vomit.

"If you still want to, then you didn't hurt me." Some might say it doesn't work retroactively like that, but causal temporal logic is for the narrow-minded. "I just -" He swallows. "I just don't want to be....a mistake you made. That's all."