towerofanimus | A couple promised closed (or semi-closed) logs

Characters: Enoch and Lucifel, and anyone who would visit his room too. Just let me know! Also, Enoch and Lancer.
Setting: Dorm 3-18 backdated to November 1st, Floor 62 backdated to December 1st
Format: I'll match!
Summary: Enoch has had something very unpleasant happen to him as a punishment for too many failed riddles. That is an understatement. Also, he and Lancer agreed to a sparring match.
Warnings: Talk of being flayed may happen if you press for information. (If this is one of your listed squicks I'll actively avoid it coming up), maybe blood or broken limbs in the sparring match? There is a tangent involving sexual discussion.

Dorm 3-18, November 1st

He woke with a scream.

Or tried to. In his sleep paralysis it was only a choked sound as he stared at the ceiling wide-eyed. Unable to move or speak, all he had was the nightmare he'd just lived, punctuated by Eleven's shrill screaming. All he had was that he was not in pain. Parts of him were still numb from revival, but he was not in pain.

An involuntary, low, distressed moan was what told him he could move again. Shaking and pale, he pushed himself up. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and his gaze was unfocused, glazed-over. He raised a hand, still numb and tingling, and pressed it to his own chest. With something between a laugh and a sob, he curled up on himself, a tight human ball on the bed.

Unlike the time that had given him such an adverse reaction, there was nothing driving him to keep going. Only the horror of what had happened.

Floor 62, December 1st

The beach had always been a calming place for him. That is, until his return to Meridian. As he waited for Lancer, he watched the waves, arms folded as his thoughts wandered. Mostly, they wandered to Armaros, and their time in Meridian. Time spent there, he on a large dune watching as Armaros swam.

And now, he was here. Torn apart. In so much pain he could only blame him.

A nautilus shell washed up against his foot. He bent down to pick it up, idly playing with it as he waited for Lancer, stewing in his own thoughts.

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It did sound stupid, stupid enough to have Lucifel laugh with him again. However, his laughter soon ceased and he closed his eyes.

"'m... voting for a sleepover..."

At least that was something he didn't really have to ask about. "Good idea..." He settled against Lucifel and dragged his pillow with him so he wasn't only resting half on it. "Comfortable, like this..."

Sure, they were both liable to have nightmares, but then, maybe they wouldn't. At least, like this, he could fall asleep happy and content.

Never mind the hangover they'd be nursing the next day.

Hangover was a good point. The archangel slowly opened his eyes, not fully awake as of yet and growled to himself. His head was throbbing and this is certainly a first that he could have left out.

However, once he was fully wake his eyes went wide, realizing that Enoch was sleeping in his arms. Well, that they were holding each other.

What had happened. And why was he missing his shirt.

For a moment longer, Enoch was peaceful. Even if he was drooling a little on Lucifel's chest. And then he woke up.

Eleven's screaming was more like a piercing screech with his headache, and he groaned, burying his head against Lucifel's neck in protest. Not that he was completely aware of who it was next to him or anything, with the way his senses were screaming at him. This had been just as bad an idea when he'd inadvertently started that party, and it hadn't gotten any better.

Once the headache went away, he'd consider the respite worth it. As it was now, though, he stubbornly refused to look at the light or leave what little warmth and comfort was left of their drinking that morning. Or the morning before. He didn't know what day it was.

Yeah, he felt the drool right there and it wasn't much of a pleasant feeling.

Lucifel wasn't moving at all. Actually, he was feeling rather tense at this moment and tried hard to remember what happened exactly before they ended up like this. And against this hangover of his.

At least one of them didn't seem too worried about any of this.

One of them had drunk too much before.

With another pained groan, he attempted to get up, though he didn't get very far, squinting against the light in the room.

One of them drunk too much for the first time. And at the moment he would be happy to remember what had happened. Wine couldn't make one THAT drunk... right?

Lucifel looked at the scribe then. "... Enoch..."

With his body weight and the amount he'd had? Sure, why not.

"Mm?" Enoch looked down at him, obviously trying to recall what had happened before, as well.

And with not having eaten anything at all... it had been bound to happen, hadn't it?

"You're drooling on me."

Practically inevitable. Enoch raised a hand to wipe his mouth off with a yawn, and then buries his face against Lucifel's shoulder.

"We need to get up, but..."

Well. It didn't make the drool that's already on his chest vanish, but okay. Back to the important matters, like the question that still needed to get answered.

"... But...?"

"But I don't want to," he finishes, knowing full well it sounds ridiculous. Getting up means cold and light and noise...

"... I guess that works as answer." Right now he actually only wanted something that would make this hangover go away and the memory of what they've been doing before they ended up like this.

"Enoch... can you remember anything from when we were drinking?" He only got the first few stages back together.

"We had a long discussion...about friendship, I think." He smiles at that. It feels like a nice discussion.

"... I think I remember." Not the whole content but that sounded about right.

"... Why am I shirtless though?"

This, Enoch remembered, for some reason or another. "You were feeling warm."

"... Right..." For a moment he hadn't been sure why he had taken it off in the first place and if it had to do with Enoch and him ending up in a cuddle pile.

"... Oh my... I think I remember. I started talking nonsense at some point."

"Nonsense? I don't remember you talking nonsense."

Well, some of it may have been nonsense at the time, to him, but he wasn't really sure he'd ever been totally lost...

He wasn't sure if he should laugh at this or consider to hide in the shadows for a long time.

"It sure feels that way now..."

"It's all right. I'm sure it wasn't important..."

What is important is getting up - they do need to, since a bottle and a half of wine a person is a lot...

"Yeah... It probably wasn't."

And they really should get up soon. Also get his shirt back. Definitely get his shirt back soon.

Enoch was taking the initiative. However, keeping his eyes mostly shut against the light and his pounding headache disorienting him, he stumbled over Lucifel as he attempted to get out of bed and wound up falling in a heap on the floor. He pushed himself up to his knees with a groan. He was all right; he'd survived worse falls, of course. Lucifel had seen that for himself.

Stumbling over him was a new kind of fall though. Lucifel growled as he sat up and looked at Enoch. "Need some help?"

There's a pause as Enoch gets to his feet, a sharp hiss that might be of pain but is actually just severe discomfort. How he managed to hold in his bladder and avoid embarrassing himself even further was a mystery (and perhaps the strangest application of his willpower yet).

"...No problem. Everything's fine."

But immediately after that, he's out of the room as fast as he can go on a hangover.

A couple promised closed (or semi-closed) logs

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