Post by ~Draven~ on Apr 30, 2011 20:33:20 GMT -5
"If you don't want to, you don't have to. I can run off to the boy's bathroom and take care of it there."
Alright, that stung a bit. It wasn't like Draven didn't want to help his buddy out: he just...couldn't. Not right here. Not in this most sacred (to him) of places. It would tarnish the library in a way ink and vomit could never dream of. Plus there was the issue of association: how was he ever to study in the library if he'd had sex in it? Answer: he couldn't. No. Just no. Not physically possible.
Draven grimaced and returned Zeph's thumbs up as the Gryffindor stumbled off to handle his problem. Draven remained there for a few minutes, cleaning up the ink spill and discarding crumpled up letters, but all the while his mind wandered to Zeph. He'd just thrown up. He was bound to be unsteady on his feet. Walking with a hard one wasn't an easy feat either. And Zeph had gulped down that water pretty fast. Collapsing and vomiting were both very real possibilities. Draven sighed.
He'd be a bad boyfriend not to make sure Zeph got where he was headed.
Thus, leaving his supplies behind, he darted out of the library as he tried to remember where the nearest bathroom was. Right, that way. He ran down the hall in the direction he assumed his boyfriend had gone, relieved that he didn't find Zeph or regurgitated water on the floor. Looks like he had made it.
Cautiously, he opened the bathroom door and peeked his head in. He didn't see anyone. Was Zeph already preoccupied? Probably. No harm in sticking around to make sure he was okay though. Draven slipped inside and sidled along the wall with a nervous look on his face. "...Zeph? Are you alright?" Like hell he was. Draven had inadvertently given the poor fellow a spontaneous boner moments after Zeph had puked. If there was ever an awful boyfriend, it was Draven.
"I'm...here if you need me."
Seemed the appropriate thing to say.
Might as well wash up though. Draven moved away from the wall, slipping his robe off and unbuttoning his shirt. He walked over to the sink and slid his shirt off, then turned on the tap. Let's see...it was warm to get stains out, right? Yeah, that sounded right. He held his fingers under the water until it felt warm enough, then held his shirt under the stream and rubbed at the ink blotches. He'd been right about the temperature, thank goodness.
Once his shirt was clean, he draped it over the neighboring sink to dry. Time for his face now. He bent forward, cupping his hands to catch the water as it fell from the tap. Once he had a decent amount, he splashed it on his face, coughing when a bit went down his throat. This felt nice though, warm water on his face after what had been a very stressful day. Cheeks rosy from the warmth, he straightened himself out and sighed before calling out to his boyfriend again.
"...Did you fall in, Zeph?"
He was beginning to think so.
Alright, that stung a bit. It wasn't like Draven didn't want to help his buddy out: he just...couldn't. Not right here. Not in this most sacred (to him) of places. It would tarnish the library in a way ink and vomit could never dream of. Plus there was the issue of association: how was he ever to study in the library if he'd had sex in it? Answer: he couldn't. No. Just no. Not physically possible.
Draven grimaced and returned Zeph's thumbs up as the Gryffindor stumbled off to handle his problem. Draven remained there for a few minutes, cleaning up the ink spill and discarding crumpled up letters, but all the while his mind wandered to Zeph. He'd just thrown up. He was bound to be unsteady on his feet. Walking with a hard one wasn't an easy feat either. And Zeph had gulped down that water pretty fast. Collapsing and vomiting were both very real possibilities. Draven sighed.
He'd be a bad boyfriend not to make sure Zeph got where he was headed.
Thus, leaving his supplies behind, he darted out of the library as he tried to remember where the nearest bathroom was. Right, that way. He ran down the hall in the direction he assumed his boyfriend had gone, relieved that he didn't find Zeph or regurgitated water on the floor. Looks like he had made it.
Cautiously, he opened the bathroom door and peeked his head in. He didn't see anyone. Was Zeph already preoccupied? Probably. No harm in sticking around to make sure he was okay though. Draven slipped inside and sidled along the wall with a nervous look on his face. "...Zeph? Are you alright?" Like hell he was. Draven had inadvertently given the poor fellow a spontaneous boner moments after Zeph had puked. If there was ever an awful boyfriend, it was Draven.
"I'm...here if you need me."
Seemed the appropriate thing to say.
Might as well wash up though. Draven moved away from the wall, slipping his robe off and unbuttoning his shirt. He walked over to the sink and slid his shirt off, then turned on the tap. Let's see...it was warm to get stains out, right? Yeah, that sounded right. He held his fingers under the water until it felt warm enough, then held his shirt under the stream and rubbed at the ink blotches. He'd been right about the temperature, thank goodness.
Once his shirt was clean, he draped it over the neighboring sink to dry. Time for his face now. He bent forward, cupping his hands to catch the water as it fell from the tap. Once he had a decent amount, he splashed it on his face, coughing when a bit went down his throat. This felt nice though, warm water on his face after what had been a very stressful day. Cheeks rosy from the warmth, he straightened himself out and sighed before calling out to his boyfriend again.
"...Did you fall in, Zeph?"
He was beginning to think so.