dumbshow | probably not depressing

[Shoot hums, obviously still out of it.] Too bad.

[He can read the summary online... Shoot sits there quietly after that, listening to the sounds of Knuckle getting water. Mercifully not noises horrible enough to worsen his headache, although it seems like he might have fallen back asleep until he cracks an eye open to take the glass.]

Thanks. [He needs a couple seconds to look down at this water before he feels he can drink it without spilling it everywhere, then does; a hesitant sip followed by a much more appreciative gulp.

Ah, now what to say...]

Uh- Are you okay?

[He means Knuckle doesn't have to act not-miserable and take care of him, but hell if he can say that without fumbling it.]

Me?

[No. He's not okay. His head is splitting, the lights hurt his eyes, his throat hurts, his arms are strangely sore, he feels like he might puke at any moment-- But no way in hell is he going to say that!

He picks up his glass of water very carefully.]

I'm fine! You've seen how me and Morel get wasted. This is nothing! [This is horrible.] I'll recover in no time, so you just focus on feeling better! [Kill him. He'll be here, drinking down this water.]

[No, don't take care of him, he can't deal with it... This also all sounds very much like Knuckle trying to claim he wasn't crying over dogs at any given time, so. Well.

Obviously, he is full of it. Shoot looks at him evenly as he drinks more water.]

Knuckle... [stop??] You're being too loud.

[That's- okay, that's true, but he means it in a- in a way that's trying to help? No, this is stupid. He looks at his glass for conversational advice, then back up at Knuckle.]

Don't act cool when you're obviously not fine.

[... "cool"]

["Cool."]

Don't be stupid, idiot! I'm completely fine! I've got more experience, and--

[He chokes a little, spilling a bit of his water into his lap as he leans away from Shoot, covering his mouth with a free hand. Ah, please hold. An entire bag of chips and half a bag of cookies was not a good idea.

But he recovers, after a few seconds, looking grim.]

...And I'm fine, I'm not sick at all, asshole...

[Whoa there. Shoot's eyes widen slightly with definite concern - partly for the upholstery, don't throw up on the only couch - but he doesn't know what he should do...

He sighs, drinking another huge gulp of water. He feels like his skull's about to split like an egg and he's definitely dehydrated, but only eating a handful of chips seems to have done him more favors than Knuckle shoving food into his face so rapidly. Once he's emptied most of his glass of water he sets it on the table and scoots a little closer, peering.

The hangover makes him feel bold, maybe. Or the threat of being sick all over the floor.]

Shut up, you're not fine. [best pal award goes to] You should go to bed.

I'm not going to bed!

[GOD SHOOT. He waves off the man's concern, drinking another huge gulp of water (not a great idea) and letting that set after he gasps. With that out of the way, he sets his glass down and brushes himself off from any water droplets not already soaked in.

Then, he zooms in on Shoot.]

How're ya feeling? Aside from the headache. You sick at all? Hey, I could make some breakfast. I can, no problem!

[No?? Shoot's staring disapprovingly, determinedly right through his terrible headache

and the dizziness

and the dehydration, look— if Knuckle is going to pretend he's not about to puke everywhere, Shoot can pretend this headache isn't as bad as it is. Honestly, he doesn't look much different than usual other than being a few shades paler (somehow) and more tired.]

No. [That's for every one of those things Knuckle just said, in his tone like a scolding parent.] We can have breakfast later. Go to bed!

Stop nagging me, I'm not going to bed!

[He says that with a point at Shoot's chest, leaning closer to emphasize.]

Your yelling's just making it worse, cut it out! [It hurts his head?? He's hurting his own head.]

[Shoot won't back down!! (Well he will if Knuckle looks ready to puke, but not for anything else.) He leans closer himself, although careful not to knock their heads together because someone's head might really crack open then.]

I'm not yelling! [does he, ever] If you go to bed, I won't need to nag— you can get mad at me later!

[Maybe he should just go to bed and save them both the trouble of this argument... but he's pretty sure Knuckle would try to make breakfast and screw it up terribly in this state, so no. Compromise??] I can handle making breakfast.

This is your version of yelling, so cut it out! Like hell!!!

[He leans even closer, and their foreheads bump. Or at least Shoot's forehead will meet the bushy yet firm end of his hair. Somehow it held up after all that sleeping... Was it because he didn't move?]

If you get up, the whole room's gonna spin! If I go to bed, you're gonna go to bed, too! That's that!

[Okay but that doesn't make him loud, Knuckle!! Shoot lets him smush his hair into his forehead without backing down. He's all set to argue some more about how he can get up, he's in better shape than Knuckle, he can handle this - but, oh.

Well if they both go to bed, that does solve the problem of Knuckle stumbling around and probably throwing up somewhere he shouldn't. So-??] That's fine. You going to bed is the whole point.

[A few crucial details may not occur to him in this moment, but oh well. He doesn't move yet, waiting for Knuckle to get up first before he believes this isn't an elaborate (no) fake out!!]

You think you're gonna trick me? Is that it? Huh?? HUH?

[He's all riled up now, Shoot, look what you've done. He pulls back with a scoff, pointing dramatically down the hallway.]

If I go to my bed, you go there too! Meaning, we've gotta be in the same room or you could be doing anything! Those are my conditions!

[Shoot would rather he not be riled up, as he's loud and liable to be sick at any moment if he doesn't hold still!!

But what's this, he has to sit around in Knuckle's room? Does Knuckle even have a chair for him to collapse on, hm...

crucial details]

Then I accept. [And like that, he's leaning away to get up... slowly.] Come on.

[For a while, Knuckle stays frozen in place, staring grimly after his partner. What. He wasn't supposed to agree, he was supposed to find that weird! Or get shy! Or not want to spend any more time with him!! Ah, wait, what is he saying, he's not trying to aim for that--

But still, this... Is it the longest they've spent together outside of a mission or training? Even while sharing an apartment.

He stands up with that overly serious look on his face, leaving his water there on the table as he heads down the hallway.]

Fine! But I'm not sleeping so early. You gotta sleep too, don't go forgetting that! [And, for the record, the only chair in his room has broken. There's a story there somewhere. He's got a desk, a bed, and tons of fighting posters all over his walls. That's about it.]

[Shoot stands there and just looks down at Knuckle while he- freezes, or something, waiting for him to get up. What's his damage now? He lost the stupid argument?? Well that's just too bad. Too bad Shoot is always right!

None of which he says as he follows Knuckle in slightly grim silence. It still hurts to move...]

Are you going to wait? [Don't do that, he'll never actually get to sleep if he's being watched. And, hm, no chair - so, the floor??]

I might!

[He's not telling! He immediately sits at the top of his bed, near the pillows, and leaves his legs over the side. After some hunching there for a moment and holding his head, he squints across at Shoot.]

And what're you doing? Sit down over here, already! [The floor isn't an option?? He's forcing Shoot into this hell, all for nagging.]

[He's honestly wondering if he should sit on the floor, maybe by the door... He glances up from staring at the floor when Knuckle speaks, and only then do the crucial details make themselves available to him.

Over there?

As in-?

If he had still been drunk he would have suddenly sobered up abruptly at that. Since he's not, he can only stand there looking appropriately shocked. No, this isn't- this didn't even occur to him-!! He's rooted to this spot by the door all of a sudden, wholly unable to make himself move even an inch. Hm.]

What?

[Oh... Is this--? Is this where he'll get the hesitation?!

Somehow, Knuckle's face gets a little darker. His chin lowers even if he smiles (it's more of a smirk), and slowly, he pats the spot next to him on the bed. Yes, he should have known from the start, Shoot was allergic to things like this, or something!]

I said come here, stupid! What's the matter? Shy?

[knuckle's hesitation fetish rears its ugly head]

[Shoot finds the will to move and takes a half-step back, instead. This isn't what he meant at all! He backtracks mentally, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong with all of this. To think, just minutes ago he had a passable amount of confidence in what he was doing...!

He shakes his head. That's a "no," not an "I'm not shy." He is really goddamn shy.]

I can stay over here. Your- your bed's too small.

[thIS MAKES IT WORSE RIP SHOOT]

Are you kidding?

[Fine, he'll get up off the bed and walk over there himself! Ignore how he wobbles a little at first-- he just got up too fast. Soon enough, he's going to be trying to wrap an arm around wherever he can reach on Shoot, ushering him towards the bed.

Even better, surely.]

How can I know you're sleeping, too, you big cheat! Sit down! Come on, you agreed to it!

You can look— [Look with your eyes, Knuckle. He leans away uselessly, if only because he's in no state to turn and bolt out of the door but has to express somehow that this is not very comfortable for him.

He refuses to be ushered!! Refuses!]

I agreed to be in the room, nothing else!

I can't look if I'm sleeping! But if you move next to me, I can tell!

[It's flawless. He frowns at Shoot pulling back, though, withdrawing his arm for the time being.]

Come on, what's the big deal? We're both men! [That doesn't help.] We're partners! [Knuckle stop.] It's like that time the old man's clunker broke down in the middle of nowhere and we all had to sleep in the back! Minus him being there, though... It's even more room!

[Absolutely none of that helps. Mentioning Morel might even make it several times worse, as Shoot can just picture him smirking so knowingly at this- this! What is this?

He opens his mouth to say something, reconsiders, closes it again. Then he turns slightly away, looking at nothing in particular in some spot on the floor again, thinking.

Maybe if he just... waits for Knuckle to fall asleep, then flees- Ahh, will that work? Is he tired and sore all over enough to just do this and pretend not to panic?

An especially nasty twinge of his headache convinces him - when he looks back around to Knuckle, he looks absolutely grim. No offense...]

Fine. [He'll even- shuffle a little in the right direction. He is in misery.] I'm only doing this so you'll stop running around sick.

[Now he doesn't even care about sleeping. He just cares that he's going to one up Shoot. Heading over faster than Shoot, he sits back down, and this time he kicks his feet up to lay there too. He's all the way on one side so that there's room for Shoot, too!

But the longer he lays there and waits, smugly, the longer he gets to think about all of this. The slower Shoot is, the more he frowns, and eventually, he peers over at him quizzically.]

Seriously, what's the big problem? I'm not gonna bite!

[WHy... does he offend... He's suddenly hurt now.]

[Don't- interrupt his slow progress! Shoot falters, boggling down at Knuckle on the bed - he was in the middle of talking himself up to going through with this, and Knuckle just has to keep making comments. Ugh.]

That's not, I mean... [don't look at him like that] Shut up.

[Ah, wait- damn it, what is he trying to accomplish. He sighs mostly at himself and crosses the rest of the way in a couple quick strides, sits down- even gets his legs onto the bed, although he doesn't actually lie down.

He also does all of this with his eyes closed, shut up.]

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