Beyond the School Grounds: Remodeling Needed

James: Things felt so odd, it was as if he couldn't really grasp any of it. His headaches had diminished, to a point, they did not come as often but they were still just as painful. Perhaps he was building something of a mind-wall against it, or whatever you may have wanted to call it. But it didn't matter. His wrist was healing well enough, to the point that despite it only having been two or so weeks, he was out of the cast and with a thick bandage made to keep the wrist mostly motionless. Despite that, he still couldn't get around by himself, and those had been the two longest weeks of his life, to date, if anything. Though he had managed to keep calm, collected for the most part and had endured his therapist's presence well enough.

Though it was early after dinner time now, and he had been set back to his room, left to his own for the time being and he didn't know when Eric would be back to see to him, if he would (how he wanted to dream of that one, but he really shouldn't have thought that way). Still however, he only had had a small meal, hadn't been able to stomach much due to the mild return of a headache, and now he stared longly at the box of biscuits that sat on top of a shelf that was just out of his reach. Mind not completely in place, he did manage to draw as close as he could to the counter, but forgot to lock his breaks. As one would have it, he managed to get himself to his feet- a miracle feat in itself- with one hand pressed firmly against the counter.

Weight dangerously swaying, it was the moment he lifted his good hand, not trusting his bandaged one, that the whole of his weight buckled, down towards the chair. Not so lucky however, was that without its breaks and his sudden motion downward, he only managed to get to the edge of the chair before it rolled back, sending the grown man sprawling to the floor and narrowly avoiding the mistake of trapping his wrist under him again. This wasn't fair.

Nicholas: Nicholas had been inordinately busy for the past week and a half, organizing everything, filing, storing, removing items from storage, remembering what he wanted where and pretty much making a constant trek from his office to his storage room to his room. And back again. Over and over until he was certain he’d be underweight before the week was out from all the jogging and how little time he had to eat. Luckily, he’d managed to stock up on microwave meals that were palatable and healthy, not that he noticed much at all at the moment. He didn’t have time to taste, just organize, write lectures, perform lectures, grade, shift, etc, etc.

So he was padding back up again, hauling another large box of files and books and a few artefacts up to his room while grumbling under his breath. He’d been meaning to catch up with James, talk to him, have lunch with him, something but he didn’t have enough time when the man was around for more than a frantic “Hello, how are you?” in the hallways between classes and research stints. Another vexing task, for once, indexing his research though he’d finally completed that and all he needed to do was file them away in the cabinets in his room. Unlocking the door one handed was a trick he’d picked up in college, research papers and whatnot juggled with food and the occasional amorous significant other kept his hands full.

Employing said skill he stumbled into his room and cleared a path to the cabinet in question and set everything down. Now to file the…Nicholas blinked a few times and uttered a few select words in Malaysian before spinning on his heel and stalking back out of his room. He’d left the damned things in his office. Again. He was working up a first rate brood when he heard a muted thump and crash from the closest open door that he vaguely registered as belonging to James. As soon as that clicked, he dashed into James’ room without bothering to knock and searched for his employer, only to find the man sprawled in his kitchen. “James?” He asked, voice colored with strain, from his vexation, exhaustion, from his excursions, and worry.

James: He was usually so calm, so.. in control of himself, that when he came to, when he realized he was on the floor- company not yet registering- he allowed for a few colourful words to escape him (or so they would have seemed) in Slovenian. Then he was struggling to sit himself up, a task that was difficult but manageable as he then was leaning back against the wall. Glaring murder at the chair for a few moments, cradling his wrapped wrist to himself, he finally allowed his eyes to take in the almost-intruder and he looked away sharply, cheeks coloring just barely. "..it hates me.." he eventually murmured, obviously not moving from his spot since he couldn't when all that was left for him to really use was one limb.

"All I wanted..were the biscuits." Quietly morose, pondering just not doing anything until Eric came back to help him back up. It seemed fine and right by him; the chair could go to hell for all he really cared about just then. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you.. I know you've been busy since you've come in.." it was easy to tell, and though he had been just as busy, it didn't mean he couldn't worry some about his new staff. His attention moved back to the chair that was now just out of his reach, mocking him with all it had and then some as he drew his gaze away again. Finding that the way he was sitting was painful for his legs- as yes, despite the paralysis he still could feel every damn thing in his legs- he made to move them, partway fold them as if he had been sitting this way purposefully.

Sighing softly, attention everywhere but on his guest, he lifted one hand to rub at his eyes softly, not so much tired in the general sense of needing sleep, but closer to being emotionally tired and just wanting to sleep forever at this point (childish but it couldn't be helped). "I apologize, I missed our appointment that day.." though he was pretty sure he'd actually mentioned it before, and if he had, well it was only slipping his mind, something that he could be forgiven for, considering everything. Again, however he lifted a hand to rub his temple this time, brows furrowing as the throbbing pain settled itself comfortably.

Nicholas: “A chair can hardly hate you since it lacks the requisite organs and sentience for such emotions.” Nicholas replied with a raspy chuckle, shaking his head at James’ logic or current lack thereof even though he understood fully. His own stint in a wheelchair, however brief, had been highly vexing and full of similar situations when he’d first started out, mostly because he didn’t want to have any annoying hospital personnel around when he was busy with research. Certain now that it wouldn’t be rude or unwelcome, he padded into the kitchen and lifted the mentioned box of biscuits, but instead of handing them to James, that wouldn’t help his current emotional or mental state at all; he set them on the counter. When he was sitting, James could reach them just fine right there. He knelt next to his employer and gingerly reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, and then paused to look over at the chair. It took little to convince him of what he should do next, though he probably should ask the floor couldn’t possibly be comfortable for James since it wasn’t at all comfortable for him.

A lean hand snaked out and slipped the locks on those deceptive, wicked wheels and without a second word scooped one arm and then the other under James’ lean form and in one fluid motion pulled him up and placed him in his char, arranging his legs on the footrests easily and then giving him a medical once over from his feet to his wrists, bypassing the broken one because it was, well, broken. He was gratified to find no bruises or breaks, it was just emotionally bruising. “Forgot your breaks…” Nicholas shook his head and sat back on his heels, looking up at James with mild amusement.

“I did that a lot when I was in a wheelchair. Couldn’t stand the thing, I always called it possessed since it kept going one way when I wanted to go the other. It was a different chair though, older, half of the spokes were corroded from sand…but that was my fault since I wouldn’t leave the field. You think having a therapist is bad in a school, you should try dealing with one while you’re trying to uncover Egyptian tombs.”

Shaking his head at the apology, he sighed and offered a gentle smile. “It’s alright, you’ve already apologized and I know why you weren’t there…even if you were, I don’t think I would have been able to make it…Even though I called my assistants the files were still mixed up. I don’t hate cats, I swear but that one is just…” He trailed off with a shake of his head and looked around the room, somewhat puzzled. “Why…why haven’t they remodelled your room?”

James: "It hates me and I'll never be rid of it.." he offers weakly, almost childish in terms but he couldn't help it. He really did despise the chair, it had taken away from him everything- almost- he had ever had. From simply walking, to swimming, to every sport he kept to, to keep himself healthy. He didn't care what the papers said, he wouldn't walk again, his family doctor knew better than to sugar-coat things for him, in the end. Pushing the thoughts away, he breathed a gentle sigh, lifting his gaze towards the settled biscuits with a faint chuckle. This really wasn't fair, but in time, he would have to learn to deal with it and he knew, but perhaps everything still remained by far too fresh. In time, perhaps once his wrist was healed.

He stiffened briefly when he was lifted and settled back in his chair, trying so hard to remain impassive but it was difficult to when the only person he'd allowed to do this for him was Eric, and he 'handled' it from the man because he knew he had no other choices. He offered a nearly inaudible 'thank you' before again looking slightly off to the side. He hated depending on others this way that was the main reason he always felt so out of sort. He needed to be independent, to take care of his own things, he always had had to in the end, didn't he? "The breaks, the wheels, the foot rest, the rest.." he shakes his head softly, pushing the thought away for now, it was no good to dwell, if one could call it dwelling.

However, to the question concerning his room, he shook his head faintly once more, breathing another sigh, "..I..don't.. want them in my room.. they could break something.." it was so soft, almost pathetic in its own right but it really couldn't be stopped. This room was the one place he had actually lived at the longest. Past schools, homes, everything else, it had been always between twelve to thirty six months. Five years was a long time to live somewhere for him. "I.. don't want to go anywhere else.. I'd be in the way..if I stayed here while they remodelled.. and I just..." how unlike the man who once was, the man who usually still could be seen walking the halls. But he had valid excuses.. or so they seemed.

Nicholas: “At least it’s not falling apart on you out of spite, and then I would worry.” He quipped softly, “How do you think it feels, being forced where it really doesn’t want to go day in, day out, no time to rest out of anything but exhaustion and then you complain about hating it. I’d move out from under you too.” Nicholas chuckled and stood, rubbing his shoulder as his back complained fiercely for al the lifting he’d done today; picking up James had just taken his last bit of strength for awhile. He supposed the files could wait.

“It takes getting used to…I found it most unfair that as soon as I’d worked out a proper agreement with my chair I was healed up and moved to crutches which I found to be profoundly worse…though they do make for a wonderful impromptu ladder.” Shrugging he leaned against the counter and popped open the biscuit container and nibbled on one without thinking, he was starving.

Only after a few moments did he realize he was taking James’ food without asking and he blinked sheepishly. “Well, you could take what ever you have that’s delicate and stay with me until they’re done. My room’s five feet away and I’ve containers for all sorts of delicate items. If anything breaks that you leave we can repair it. It won’t take long if you’re not there and you’ll be very close.” He shrugged and offered a biscuit to James nonchalantly. “I can sleep on the floor if it takes overnight, and I’ve got a few meals left in the fridge.”

James: "You're contradicting yourself." He offers faintly, not really wanting to argue- not that it could be called arguing- nor did he feel like he was the one abusing the chair and not the other way around, at this point. Sighing softly, unable to really stop himself from feeling like a child surrounded by foreign things he wasn't supposed to touch, he rubbed his eyes lightly and shook his head, straightening as he could in his chair before letting fingers brush along his bandaged wrist gingerly. "I don't want to be in your way.." he offers quietly, feeling as if intruding into someone else's room was worse than any of his things being broken.

Staring at the biscuit offered to him, he hesitated a moment before taking it quietly with a half-hearted nod. "I suppose it's just childish of me.. it would simply be easier to move into one of the rooms that have already been modified to fit the bill.." this room was also a given at this point as it was just about next to the elevator and it saved him a world of trouble. "You've been running back and forth since you came in." he paused, lips quirking faintly, "and I'm certain you haven't stopped long enough to take time to eat good meals either." That was easier for him, worry about others instead of himself. "Eric will wonder where I've gone to, if I accept your offer.."

Not that he was considering it, he wasn't was he? He certainly couldn't. There was no way in hell he could intrude on someone... well maybe. No one else would really offer- he knew better- and it wouldn't kill him to have some sort of company. Perhaps it would also do this one some good, "you're exhausted too, aren't you?" calm, smooth once more, calming now that all attention wasn't utterly on him, this was easier.

Nicholas: “I’m American, contradictions are allowed.” Shrugging he snagged another biscuit and thought for awhile, listening to James and trying not to eat voraciously, he could do that back in his room later. Much later, after this was all taken care of and James wouldn’t be standing right in front of him. “You wouldn’t be in my way at all, I’ll just have to shove all the books over to the side to make more room for your chair and then reorganize the shelves…move all the artefacts off the bed, change the linens…eh, I’ve been meaning to tidy up anyway.” He offered with a sheepish blush as he recalled the organized chaos of his room, he just had too much with him and not enough time to set it all aside properly, but he’d get around to it now that he had good reason. James’ comfort was definitely a good reason.

“It’s not childish at all, you’ve found somewhere that you’re comfortable, it’s your home, your nook, it’s full of your life and memories, buildings and abodes tend to develop their own personality and whatnot after years of occupation. I know my first home most certainly has. It’s the most chaotic jumble of architecture I’ve ever seen; walking through it is like a museum and some points and barracks at another. I’ve got a photo album full of rooms from there, it’s insane. Of course instead of tearing anything down my family has just kept on adding new rooms and wings as the ages pass…” He trailed off with a happy shake of his head, remembering the maze of his first home. For him home was where his papers and books were, the room, dorm, house, etc didn’t matter so long as it had his research and books in it. Then it was home. He couldn’t’ sleep in hotels because of it. “Well, I have a lot of files that need organization and I’m almost done, I just have to move five more file boxes and it’ll all be set but I think I’ll do that tomorrow.”

Again he shrugged, flushing and rubbing the back of his head. “I haven’t had time, it’s normally like this when I’m in the middle of research, it used to be that you could tell how long I’d gone without sleep or food by how much my beard had grown. The one time it was really bad I was in Norway so it didn’t matter that much, my research partners were actually very supportive of my growing a beard until they found out I wasn’t sleeping, or eating. Never let Norse women find out you haven’t been eating properly. They’ll force feed you if they have to and won’t quit until you’re sick from it.” Another memory, another laugh, until he heard the mention of Eric came about. He didn’t like thinking about that man at all and the laughter promptly filtered away. “Eric can manage well enough on his own for a night. I’m only a little exhausted, and I’ve dealt with worse. I think it’d be good, we could catch up on what I meant to cover with you for that meeting and a few more ideas, and you’ll be free of Eric for a little while.”

James: "I think.. you're the first person I've hired.. that came with so many things.. so much stuff, as I know a lot of people would say.." he offers perhaps after a time, quiet in his words as it was clear he was pondering that which really was being offered to him. "You do realize you could have asked for some help when it came to moving things left and right.. I know some would have been more than willing to offer themselves to help you.." even if it kept them from other things, like classes. So mostly if it kept them from classes. Shaking his head lightly, he took hold of the box of biscuits again before merely holding it out, as it seems his guest, soon host by the looks of things, needed it more than he did. He wouldn't complain, had no reason to complain, this was fine by him.

"I've never lived long in the same spot.. we've always moved.. from one house to the other, from one summer home to the next.. one school to the following.." he trailed off softly, unable to really remember what it was like to have a home, somewhere that was his. This little room was it, this school as a whole was it, but mostly the room. That first and foremost. "I really.. really.. really don't want to be in your way, but if you say it's alright, then I won't fight with you and accept.." those were offered uncertainly, gaze settled on the other before it drifted down with a sigh. Life had always been about taking care of himself, of others. This felt so foreign it frightened him. "At most I figure it may take them two days to work everything out.. I don't mind sticking to my chair.."

It wouldn't do him any harm, would it? Though the needed showering process would require him needing some help, as it had for the past while and that in itself made him cringe. He didn't mind going to the medical center to take care of his showers and bathing things, but when he was of the cast, he could wash himself just fine. The mention of being free from Eric however, was music to his ears and he seemed to sag lightly in his chair, features dropping somewhat, along with the box if it had not been taken after all. "I'd help if I could, just so you know." Of course, he would have helped had he had both his hands to see to it, but he didn't and couldn't but that was okay. He'd survive. They both would, right?

Nicholas: “I never know what I’ll want to research next, so I try to keep everything close. It’ll be smoother when I get my shelves organized, don’t worry about it.” Nicholas accepted the offered biscuits, nibbling on another and trying not to look horribly starved. He needed to eat. He needed to shower, he needed to eat, and he needed to sleep. But first he’d get James out of here and somewhere homey. Everything would be within James’ reach in Nicholas’ room because he always worked on the floor and never really kept anything he thought he’d need above waist level. He shrugged at the mention of others willing to help; he didn’t have a student aid and didn’t want to bother anyone else by asking for assistance. “I can carry my own work and the students have to study, all the other teachers are busy with their own classes and I don’t want to trouble them…if I could stand him I could possibly convince Eric to help, the man will do anything if you promise him beer, but I can’t stand him, so I do it on my own.”

“Home is where my books are, where my passion and heart currently reside. Buildings don’t matter overmuch, mostly because I don’t really use a bed or desk or furniture. I work how I used to read as a teen, on the floor, surrounded by materials. It’s always been the most comfortable for me.” Shrugging again, he was doing that often around James, really, he needed to think of a different gesture, Nicholas nibbled on another biscuit as he heard a very familiar and infuriating whistle and boot steps. “Eric.” He muttered with no little vexation, he closed the box and tucked it under an arm before sliding around behind James and unlocking his wheels. “I beg your pardon, but I do not enjoy that man’s company one bit.” He stuck his head out of the room, checked the hallways on both sides and pulled his head back in. “He’s not here yet, but on the way. Hold on tight. On the count of three I’m going to make a run for my room, thank god I left the door open. Ready?” His voice was low, conspirator, and despite the seriousness in his expression his eyes were glimmering with some sort of mischief he couldn’t help. Nicholas made some show of checking the hall again before leaning down and whispering in James’ ear, “One…two…three!”

He shoved forward, wary of the wheels of James’ chair, and made a mad dash over the five feet between their doorways, spurred on by the sound of Eric approaching and using all his limited track and field experience to make it out one door, over the vulnerability of the open space, and into his room. He managed to get his own doorway closed and locked just as Eric rounded the corner. Once inside, once safe, he couldn’t help but laugh softly to himself, and then louder as he slid into a chair he’d left close to the door for one reason or another. “Now who’s being childish?”

James: "There are a lot of workers on the grounds, Nick. People paid to make sure things are clean.." he rolled his eyes lightly but offered nothing else, merely watching the man as he nibbled on the biscuits, trying so hard not to look like he was starving and.. failing to a good point. That wouldn't look so good on a grading report. But who cared right? Maybe he'd be able to make sure this one ate properly while he was there, intruding. Wasn't today Friday anyway? They would have the weekend, unless Nicholas intended to open a classroom for the bonus class, though he was pretty sure the other teacher was in the habit of doing that. Some did take turns, but others didn't it was one thing he didn't really keep up with.

The mention of beer made him scrunch his nose lightly but he didn't really have time to dwell on it. The further spoken name of his therapist had him canting his head, listening to the sounds that came from outside in the hall. It wasn't close yet, but would be soon. It was strange, how things moved in something of a flash, as one moment he was watching Nick checking the hallways, the next his chair was being wheeled at madman speed out of his room and into the other's own. His eyes were wide, unbelieving of what had just happened but mainly, horribly so amused over what had just happened, despite that his mind couldn't latch so well on all of the details. Blinking as his mind cleared up, he rubbed his eyes, canting his head to view his laughing companion.

It was hard to stop himself from chuckling and he did so, ever lightly as once more he lifted his hand, ruffling his tresses lightly. "I think you're insane." he offered, the tone making it relatively clear that he was simply teasing, the curve of his lips as he then calmed once more and took a quiet look around, finally taking a moment to view what it was he had just set foot into. It was his right, wasn't it? Sure it was. "I hope you know I refuse to be in the way and I'll make sure that it stays that way too." Still his lips were curved lightly, head turning back lightly to view the door and listening to know if there was anything or anyone still out in the hallway. Now he would have to contact the workers and get them started on his room. It wouldn't hurt in the end.

Nicholas: “I know but I can never catch them when they’re not working on something else, though I could try tomorrow but I have that class…no I don’t. Wait.” He moved away from the door to rummage around in a chest he’d set close by and pulled out a day timer he usually never left the room without having on his person. “Friday…classes, move files, etc, etc…Saturday. Ah, I gave the boys passages and an email address if they had questions because I was going to do what I ended up doing today tomorrow. So I can sleep and recover from my self inflicted negligence.” He nodded and tipped a head to the side when he was called insane and shook his head. “No, no. I’m mad. Mad as a hatter. Insane sounds so clinical while mad is short, sweet, and quite apt.” Nicholas’ room was, as he’d said, organized chaos. The walls were hardly visible for the file cabinets and stacks of books he had everywhere, drawers and chests took up most of the floor space around what would be called a desk if it had four legs and a chair to go with it

What parts of the walls that weren’t taken up and what free space there was available were covered with photos and photo journals. His family, his travels, artefacts, documents, buildings and gardens, only one wall was clear and it had a huge tapestry hung on it of the beach with a clear blue ocean and the setting sun. It was the first thing Nick saw when he woke up and the last thing he saw before he went to sleep. Back on the floor a laptop, pens, paper, files were arranged on the wooden surface and Nick promptly went about moving things about, shelving books and moving chests that, in all his experience with how he usually arranged his rooms and had everything worked out, helped him finish the seemingly impossible task very quickly.

It only looked bad when it was all spread out but soon all the carpet was visible and the bed was clear of the swords he’d been analyzing. Soon there was plenty of room for both of them, the kitchenette was pristine and all the floor space was free of his professional baggage. “There, now it’s liveable again.” Nicholas dusted off his hands and wiped the back of his neck with a kerchief, perspiring mildly as was to be expected from all the work he had done, the sprint, and the reorganization of his room.

“I can’t think there’s anything you can do to get in the way since all I have any intention of doing is having something to eat, shower, and nap. Hopefully in that order and I’ll be happy to fix you something to eat as well since I’ve so quickly stolen your biscuits.” He spared a chuckle and a tilt of his head in James’ direction as he fetched a fresh shirt and washcloth from a dresser and tucked into the bathroom to wipe down his torso with a damp cloth and change shirts, he’d do laundry later and this was just to hold him over while he ate. He slipped back out and crouched close to the fridge, reaching out with a long hand to snag James’ chair and pull him into the middle of the room since he heard footsteps approaching his door. Sure enough, there was a knock and a drawl. “Nicky, I know you have my patient in there, come on out.”

James: "That.. would be the point of coming by to see me and ask me to locate someone who isn't dead busy.." he offers calmly, shaking his head as he merely watched the rummaging, the reading of the day timer with a faint quirk of his lips. There had been a time when his days had been so sufficiently filled in that he had had time for nothing else, for reasons that were beyond him he actually missed those terribly. But there was little for him to do about it at the moment, there was very, very little he could do. But once he had both his hands back to himself, he'd get this chair tuned, the way he tuned his cars, and would get used to it. That did sound like a marvellous idea, and so far was he drifting in his own mind that he nearly missed the answer to his calling the other insane.

His features canted lightly once more, of course keeping out of the way- not much else he could do- as he watched the organized chaos become a little more organized and lose it's 'chaotic' looks to be replaced by something that made more sense to him. "I don't think I could have better picked for a teacher.." that was murmured to no one in particular, a faint half-smile touching his lips as really, he would have given a lot for more of his teachers to be as into their selected subject as this one. Then again, he knew almost half of the teachers here had actually come to the school at one point or another, so it was different in its own way. In time, his gaze settled on the tapestry and a soft, almost blissful sigh escaped him.

That reminded him of home, reminded him of things he craved but were out of his reach for who knew how long, if not forever. But that was a depressing thought and he pushed it away, features canting somewhat, another murmured, but ever sincere, "you're amazing, I hope you know that," escaping those lips. Perhaps not awed, but genuinely happy for his choice indeed.

"Food, shower and nap. That does sound like a plan.. and don't worry, I actually did eat, the biscuits were merely because I was feeling somewhat nibbly, is all." There was an unexpected tone to escape him when his chair was pulled further into the middle of the room, his attention then moving towards the door again as a shudder, and a literal twitch along his shoulders, was all that came from him at the voice and words. Yet his reaction wasn't so much from the voice itself, but the nickname spoken. It made him cringe.

Nicholas: “But at the time you were busy so I couldn’t go see if you could find someone that wasn’t busy now could I?” Nick murmured from his position on the floor, sitting cross legged as he looked around that chair and listened for anything more. “I enjoy my work, it’s my passion, and my life, if you cut me I’m almost certain I’ll bleed ink rather than blood…and I wouldn’t call myself amazing at all. Just lucky and driven.” Nicholas was content to curl up where he was for a moment, and close his eyes, just a sort rest, nothing horribly long and he felt himself slowly drifting away…nibbly. What? Wait…wake up. Nibbly?

Green eyes flickered open to stare at James in acute puzzlement before a slow grin spread across his face and he started to laugh again. “N-n-nibbly?” He repeated before cupping a hand over his own mouth, trying to keep quiet. It was so very out of context with the image he kept of James and he couldn’t help it. However at the persistent knocking he rose fluidly and padded over to the door, leaning against it and listening in case Eric had gotten bored and decided to putter off and bother someone else. He could hear the man doing the exact same thing. “…although I’m not very lucky today it seems. Hrm.” He thought for a few moments and padded back to the fridge, opening it up and rooting around for a little while.

“I know it’s in here somewhere, I bought it as soon as I found out he was on my floor…I don’t drink the stuff my self but I know he’s crazy for it and….ah ha!” Nicholas had, by this time, pulled himself so far into the mini fridge it was a wonder the thing didn’t swallow him up. What he’d found and pulled out, however, was a bottle of beer. Imported from Shiner Texas, one of the limited releases they offered on occasion. “Shiner ninety seven. He’ll do anything for one of these.” Grinning in triumph he padded over to the door and opened it, facing Eric who was leaning on the wall across from his room. “Eric.” He said once, curtly, but that picked up the man’s ears and his head swung around first to Nicky, then to the room behind him that held his patient. “Look I need to get Jamsie-ohwhatdoyouhavethere?”

The man’s attention had wavered the moment Nick had held out the bottle and Eric, once catching a sight of the label pounced immediately. Nicholas however still retained many of his Eric-reflexes and ducked, pulled a shoulder up under the man and shoved him back out into the hall and while he was close to the ground rolled the bottle along the floor and back down the hallway. Eric was knocked back against the wall and stunned for a moment, searching for what he wanted and Nicholas simply pointed down to the bottle rolling away and said. “Fetch.” And fetch Eric did, scrambling after the precious bottle while Nick closed the door. “I can’t believe that still works.”

James: "I wasn't so busy. I was just mildly busy as I'm afraid I am every day considering how much I need to see to this school." he replied calmly, watching the other, curious as it seems this one was fine with sleeping on the floor, no matter how long or short a nap. Disturbed at it was and the fact that he was being laughed at- no, no wait. It wasn't that he was being laughed at, it was his word, he'd always used that word.. well in private, never really in public until today. "I was feeling peckish?" he blinked, lips curving lightly once more though he found the laughter, muffled as it was, to be a Godsend in its own way, it helped him relax as being in a room that wasn't his own made him a little wary, not that anything would happen, but that he would indeed be in the way.

Now he was back to watching, frowning faintly at the bottle of beer that made its appearance though he said nothing yet, having no reason to really say anything until the door was closed anew. However, another rough shudder escaped him at the god-awful nickname that escaped his therapist's lips. Gods he hated that name, it wasn't even a shortened version of his name! Then again, no one really knew his true name and it was fine by him, why his parents had called him that was beyond him and 'James' was fine for him and everyone else around him. "You know.." eventually he offered the words softly, watching as the door was shut, "alcohol is prohibited on school grounds, yours or otherwise.." the words were so calm.

Still to the point he only shook his head softly, brushing his fingers along his bandaged wrist, he sighed and turned his gaze back towards his host, "Thank you nevertheless.. it isn't that I don't appreciate the help he's giving because the papers claim I'll walk again.. he's just a little.." he lifts a shoulder again, "I don't know what to call it, but my mind tends to blur around the edges when he's there." That and the headaches, but there was no need for him to utter so much crap as was. As it did feel like crap to him, he was certain it was only because he thought it was pointless to go through so much exercise. "You should eat, wash up and rest, as you said you would. It would do you a world of good.

Features canted, almost innocent in the manner, he smiled just lightly. "And maybe if I could be taken nearer the balcony I'd be utterly out of your way and I wouldn't see any reasons to complain in any way.." being out on balconies usually also made his day, and at this point he didn't really care who saw what.

Nicholas: “Even if it’s in a special box that says, ‘In case of Eric, throw one out?’ I swear if you have any problems with him the solution that works the most is to just throw beer at him. Literally, on occasion, he could be a professional in football, American football that is, if you paint the ball like a beer bottle. It worked all the time when we were together too, if I had work I needed to get done and he was getting amorous I’d just chuck a bottle out the door and by the time he was finished with it he’d forgotten what it was he’d been doing before. Needless to say I kept quite a bit of beer on hand if I wanted to get any work done at all, the man’s always randy.”

He didn’t recall mentioning them being together before or the cause for animosity between himself and the therapist, nor did he think Eric had said anything to James either and he honestly couldn’t believe he’d let such a fact slip. His eyes darkened somewhat and he shook it off, not wanting to think on it anymore. It was in the past and had no pertinence to the current situation. Instead he padded back to the fridge and pulled out a few packages, removed a large bowl from another chest he’d brought with him and started emptying things into the bowl before sliding the whole thing into the microwave and letting it run for about five minuets.

Nicholas stood again, still silent, and rolled James out to the balcony, opened the doors, and slipped him outside where he’d set up a lounging chair off to one side for himself. He made certain that the canopy and curtains he’d rigged over the balcony kept the breeze on James and the sun off of him, and then went so far as to pull an end table close and bring out a glass of lemonade for his guest, along with a fresh plate of sliced apples, brie, and biscuits. The canopy was made of durable oilskin so it could withstand weather, covered on the underside with a pleasing shade of indigo. The curtains were draped fabric of Malaysian batik in swirled shades of blue, light enough to let the breeze through but opaque enough to keep the sun off.

The edges were decorated lightly with hanging chains that chimed as the wind blew, on the end of each was a small tubular bell and colored crystals he’d found here and there on his travels. He hovered for a few moments by James’ side before slipping back inside his home and returning with a book of various sorts of short stories, the best to go with since he had no idea what James liked to read. That seen to he slipped back inside and retrieved his meal to pad back outside with his bowl of beef, noodles, and broth and lounged in the chair next to James, slurping away without looking too starved.

James: "I suppose I can let those slip, for that sake alone.. as otherwise I really would rather there be no alcohol whatsoever on school grounds.." he manages a faint half-smile, features canting in soft curiosity though he said nothing to what had been a relationship, figuring there was a reason none of this was usually mentioned publicly, let alone why it seems they no longer were together, or the very simple fact that even if he hadn't been told, he would have easily been able to tell that Nicholas cared very little for Eric. It wouldn't really take a genius, but it perhaps took someone with some common sense not to ask and he didn't. He did open his mouth a moment, as if to say something, but shut it moments later with a soft shake of his head.

It was difficult not to keep his eyes on his host, impressed in some way as to the way he carried himself, the way he got things done in his own smooth but clear way. Shaking the thoughts off with a light sigh, he had almost drifted back to the debt of his own mind when he was taken to the balcony. He was in more than simple awe to how things were settled but didn't say a thing, merely smiled lightly, mostly to himself and ruffled his own tresses briefly. There eventually was a murmured note of 'thank you..' to escape him, perhaps only when it seems he was settled with a book. Even the maids back home hadn't been that attentioned to his well being, had they? It made him drift back into his thoughts once more, quiet in his way.

When joined, it seemed he didn't actually shift, so deep into his own thoughts was he. But if anything, it didn't seem as if it was a bad thing, he looked merely at peace, lashes in part lowered over those eyes with a color that at times was indiscernible to the point that one would be asking themselves if he wore contacts. "I really do.. appreciate that you've agreed to come and teach here.." he only ever had praises and more praises for the teachers and students he sent invitations out to. They were those that he wanted to see the most amidst his populace, within his walls, and when they came, it made everything better for a little while. And after that, well after that he kept himself occupied.

Eventually, he merely settled his head back slightly, for this time only content for the sake of the headrest that was part of his chair, temporary as it was. Lashes fluttering, he merely seemed to settle there, content to be where he was. He could have slept there, and likely would if he was actually left on his own for any amount of time.

Nicholas: Nicholas remained silent, well, as silent as one could be while slurping down noodles and beef and broth, his first real hot meal in days as all he’d snagged from the cafeteria were cold sandwiches and salads but this, carbs and protein, was good. Hunger was the best spice, after all, and all he’d had to eat was…an apple, yesterday morning. He kept himself very busy but he was settled in now, he’d have plenty of time for anything the weekend threw at him, there was very little he couldn’t handle, actually. Humming to himself in satisfaction as he’d slurped down the last of his noodles he wiped his chin and answered softly, the most he’d spoken since he’d mentioned his involvement with Eric. “I’m honoured to be here, the students are amazing and this campus is what I’d always wanted from my own schools. I’m glad I accepted the invitation. And most importantly, I’m free of that cat.” He spoke softly as it seemed that James was resting and contented himself by rising, keeping the doors to the balcony open as he slipped back inside.

He washed his bowl and threw out his trash, retrieving his required toiletries and slipping into the bathroom, peeling off his sweaty clothes and into the shower. It had taken him a few nights of using the sink to wash himself clean to realize that yes, he had a shower and yes, it worked. In all honesty it was divine beyond measure to have such utilities as he was used to washing himself from a basin and never really getting all of the grit off of his skin. He turned the water to as cold as it could get, he was feeling a little overheated, and slipped into the shower, gasping at the sudden temperature change before relaxing into it. Oh how he loved this school, the faculty was nice, the dorms were perfect, he was in a new country and had so much to do with such brilliant minds he had almost danced when he first received the scroll. Instead he cleaned himself up and danced around the bonfire with the women helping them with the dig where he’d previously done without much interaction.

Once blasted clean of perspiration and dust from his own artefacts he shut off the water and dried off, slipping into a loose pair of drawstring pants that were meant for lounging around his room in and after a moment’s hesitation one of his old shirts, loose, cotton, and button up. Nothing in this world was as comfortable as properly broken in cotton and denim, but he couldn’t sleep in denim so he went with the cotton. It smelled of Moroccan spices and Egyptian wine, of French grass and Norwegian honey, this shirt he’d taken all over the world with him. He slipped it on, buttoning it up halfway and padded back out to his apparently sleeping guest. James really must be exhausted. He shook his head and wheeled him back into his room, closing the door behind him and then took James over to his neat, pressed bed. Well aware of the proper procedure he turned down the sheets and lifted James from the chair, pivoting carefully before laying him down and tucking his feet under the covers. He had a pallet he could roll out on the floor for himself.

James: It wasn't that he was in need of sleep, it was that he was, yes, exhausted, but mentally as well as emotionally. There was no part of him that was physically exhausted at this point in the day. It was the stress, the emotional confusion, turmoil. It all ended up boiling down to something that perhaps was not so pretty. Still, when he was still on his own, his lashes started to flutter just gently, settling along cheekbones to keep most of the natural sunlight out of a once tanned face. He really had lost some color since it had all started, but only the stress could be blamed, the loss. Hell, if one looked closer, they would then conveniently notice just a few silvery fine hair on that head. He wasn't old enough to go grey, but stress had its so called excuses.

When his chair was moved, he shifted lightly, waking in some way but not enough that he could realize what was really happening. Perhaps he was so used- not a good thing in itself- to Eric seeing to those basic needs due to his wrist, that it didn't matter much where he was going, or who was doing it. Picked up and settled down, he sighed lightly, shifting just slightly (as much as one could shift when paralysed from the waist down). However, the moment he was to be released, his good hand would be reaching out, eyes half-mast as he made to grasp a wrist and cling to it faintly, just barely. He was tired, his mind wasn't all there, and part of him didn't realize what he was doing, while the other was clear on who he was clinging to.

As was, he wouldn't release his hold at all, perhaps lessening it just slightly if he was joined on the bed. It was all he wanted, and an exhausted James was closer to his true self than one that was completely awake and refusing to face what he was made of. Who knew what would happen to him during the night, as he had been known to waking from nightmares with a scream, only to find himself alone in his room, unable to curl in on himself, and only wanting a comfort that couldn't be given. Shaking his head weakly from the thoughts, he merely offered that wrist a faint half-tug, lashes falling again as he threatened to drift back to a much, almost desperately so, needed sleep.

Nicholas: It seemed as though the pallet would have to wait, Nicholas reached up to attempt in the most innocent fashion to pull the hand clinging to his wrist before tugging on it lightly. He couldn’t sleep in this bed, it wasn’t proper and he had never really slept in a bed with anyone before, any rough and tumble came in the middle of the day or the morning when he had work to do. Still, that hand wouldn’t release and he sat on the bed wit ha sigh, looking over to his employer somewhat helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. This had never happened to him before and he finally shrugged and curled up somewhat awkwardly alongside James so he could, at the very least, get some rest. He so desperately needed rest; he’d done so much work and something as simple as another body wouldn’t keep him from sleeping. Determined to get some rest he settled down and slipped his glasses off to set on a bedside table and slipped under the covers, eyes closed as he willed himself to rest, to be comfortable.

Normally that worked enough but he’d gotten used to the pallet and having room again, rather than a cramped space and therefore no longer needed to curl up to be comfortable enough to sleep. Instead he tended to, well, sprawl with very little grace or dignity and he couldn’t do that properly with James in the bed with him. Miffed at this he stared at nothing at all in particular, though he was staring in the direction of his guest. He snorted, gave up on trying to sleep all tucked close to himself and sprawled as he would need to in order to be comfortable, James wanted him here and Nick was tired enough to feel that his employer should deal with the consequences of that desire. The resulting position landed one of his arms around James’ waist and one of his feet tangled with those paralyzed limbs. Satisfied he closed his eyes and determinedly tried to sleep again.

James: The moment he was joined on the bed had his hand loosen slightly, though barely enough to warrant letting go altogether. It was when the other had seemingly settled that he released all limbs altogether. It had been- well no, he actually had never shared a bed with anyone himself, the two or so years he had been married had been spent in separate bedrooms. When Christine had been born, they had grown closer, though barely enough to warrant sleeping in the same bed- the same room was good enough for the woman. However, when she had become pregnant with a second child- not his- they had again moved to different bedrooms in the house and that had been the end of that. There had been a point in his life when he had been desperate for this sort of things, but perhaps he had outgrown them..

Or perhaps not. It was difficult to tell. He would sink into a deeper sleep from there on, happy to drift off this way, comforted by the presence near though part of him wondered if it was healthy for this kind of thing to happen. Then again, he was so exhausted that he couldn't have made himself care. He would sleep this way for a relatively long while, actually near all the way to the middle of the night where it always seemed to begin. Those nightmares were evil, they always came around the same time, they were about the same things and they made sure he would be kept away to a good point. It merely began with a slight tossing of his head, incoherent murmurs following suit as all things did start slowly, smoothly; as some would say.

Only a few moments more before he woke with a sharp jerk, for the first time in several weeks able to keep himself from actually screaming himself awake. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, he struggled to calm his breathing, to calm his burning lungs as if he had been crying which wasn't far from the truth, but the only traces could be seen in the lonely twin trails down his cheeks; trails he sought to wipe off sharply before he turned his head to the side and took a deep breath, wanting to will the images away and fall back to sleep. Really now, these were likely another reason as to which the headaches came, right? He couldn't sleep right, and a lack of sleep affected one's ability to concentrate. If anything he was that way.

Nicholas: Nicholas had, eventually, managed to drift off to sleep and as always it was a deep, all encompassing thing that had a strong enough hold on him that the building could be struck by cannon fire and he wouldn’t wake. He was warm, he was snug and he was asleep. He didn’t snore, or move, dead to the world and breathing. Just breathing, at least until he felt someone move in distress close to him and some part of his mind registered that this would disturb his sleep. He couldn’t stand for that now, could he? So the distress would have to be dealt with. Nick had been dreaming of Egypt again, so it was Egyptian he mumbled in as the hand on James’ waist pulled him closer, tucking that lean body against his own and holding it close, his other hand seeking out and finding the distressed one’s hair and smoothing through it mindlessly. All of this was a reflex engrained in him from his earliest years. Something of self preservation, if you will, as he’d lived in a large house that was stuffed to the brim with younger relatives that never slept well. Nightmares, colds, etc, and the kids always piled into his bed because it was one of the biggest, he’d gotten it out of luck, and he didn’t kick them out.

He curled around them, held them close and mumbled some sort of comforting nonsense and drifted off to sleep again, that’s what he always did. Apparently those habits hadn’t faded at all with disuse and it was exactly this he did again, holding James and smoothing his fingers through that hair, mumbling something that should be comforting in Egyptian before drifting off to a semi-sleep state in case more comfort was needed. On occasion a bedtime story or the like was required for the kids to fall asleep again and he was more than happy to oblige.

James: All he had excepted was to pull himself back to sleep and forever everything had ever happened. As one would have it, that's not what happened. What did happen had him stiffening briefly before he relaxed with a shudder, seeming to find the comfort in the simple closeness, more than enough to be what he had needed to his mind back to the peaceful depths of nowhere. Forgotten was the eighteen wheeler that smashed into the car, forgotten his daughter's mangled body, the horrified looks from the doctors as he was taken into the hospital, the whispered tones, and the rumours that trotted their ways around the school ground, students not realizing the harm it would do. All forgotten and for the better as he drifted back to a dreamless, dark, restful sleep.

Or as restful as it could be when you were so close to someone else for the first time in your life. It was warm and comforting as much as it was confusing, but it seems he slept that way all through the night, stirring at the sun's first visible ray through whichever point it would chose to make its way in. No matter what, he had never actually managed to sleep past the first few rays of the sun, and that was whether he could see them or not. Though as of lately, every time he had headaches he slept, perhaps it could change a man's sleeping habits, but for the time being he was stirring, though moreso he was already awake and staring at nothing in particular as he dared not move.

He was fine staring at nothing in particular, trying to get a feel for his surroundings, trying to remember what had happened the night before to land him in the position he was at. It wasn't that he was complaining, but he didn't know if he had any explaining to do, and if he did, just what he could utter. Swallowing under something of a lump that formed in his throat, he sighed softly and tried to further moisten his mouth, almost feeling as if he had eaten something not so different from sand paper. Though that was close enough to how he felt waking up every morning since he had come back to school.

Nicholas: Even though it’d been early evening or mid afternoon when he’d fallen asleep Nicholas showed no signs of waking whatsoever. He was comfortable, his body needed this much rest to catch up with all the abuse he’d put it through and it had no intention of letting him move around any time soon. The last time he’d been this exhausted he’d been recovering from a cave dive in Indonesia. He was just so buggering tired, that’s right, buggering tired, he was exhausted to the point of using vulgarities and there wasn’t anything the cosmos could do about it…until he remembered the body next to his. It was fully grown and after a wandering hand brushed over its chest, distinctly male. So he wasn’t back home. Then who? Right. Daniel. The blond liked sleeping with him sometimes after a long night of not being with him and doing other more amusing things. Nick shrugged this off and curled about the intruder, now identified, in his bed a little tighter, and spared a nuzzle for whatever skin was closest, he didn’t know, he was out cold for the most part.

James: This could have been frightening, no, this wasn't so much frightening as it was confusing and now it made him wonder even more as to what sort of explanation he could come up with when his host was to wake, whenever that was going to be. Eventually, despite the strange way in which he now was securely held and settled on the bed, his lashes fluttered, allowing him to actually drift back to sleep, a first, as usually he allowed for a short lounging in bed on Sunday mornings. If sleep called him, he didn't fight against it and actually allowed his head to settle again, features settling as they could with no reason to really feel as if he was at fault for whatever would happen next. Because whatever happened next was utterly out of his hands.

This sleep, however, allowed a faint, hazy layout of a grassy field that was foreign to him, of a forest in the distance and of something else a little ways away. He couldn't tell what it was and didn't care to go elsewhere. This patch of grassy field was good for him and he sprawled there, gazing at the soft sky above him until a few droplets of rains found themselves falling to his face- something he welcomed whole heartedly. It had been so long since he had merely stood outside and let himself be rained up, it would have lifted his spirits so much faster than anything else thrown at him, but that too was out of the question now, wasn't it? Well no matter. This dream rain was good enough for him.

Nicholas: Daniel wasn’t going to run off again on him. Good. It was comforting to know that even once and awhile the blond cared enough to stick around if Nick wasn’t feeling well…but then he’d always called Nicholas Nicky, not Nick, and the man he was holding, he realized as soon as his eyes fluttered open, was most certainly not blond. A few blinks and mumbled queries later his mind fixed on what had happened the day before. James falling out of his chair, them running here to hide from Eric, him throwing beer to chase Eric off, eating, showering, and then sleeping, he’d intended to sleep on the floor but James wouldn’t let him for some reason or another. James was in the bed with him, and he was nuzzling the side of James’ neck. Not only nuzzling, just before he opened his eyes he’d parted his lips and started to nibble against the flesh and skin his face was currently pressed against and one of his hands had moved to stroke James’ abdomen. No, this was not, in fact, Daniel.

It was his employer and he was no longer a university student, he was renown, or so he’d been told, name in the subject of history for his ideals and methods and a teacher at a private school, personally invited by the principal. Who he was currently nibbling and stroking like an old boyfriend; this caused his eyes to widen and instead of doing the sensible thing like pulling away and apologizing profusely he froze entirely and didn’t move save to breathe. James seemed to be asleep. If he was asleep, he could ease away and out of bed and pretend this never happened. If James was still asleep…oh he hoped James was still asleep.

James: Maybe someone should dye his hair blond and re-baptize him that would save some people the heartache, or whatever they would eventually be heading in for at this rate. Really now, sharing a bed when the so-called relationship was one of employer and employee and that for something like a month? My, not good. But James wasn't complaining, actually, the deeper he had fallen back into slumber, the darker his 'painful, softly rainy grass land' had become. Eventually, he was back to be beginning, driving with his child-daughter in the passenger seat, the eighteen wheeler coming by too quickly and yet he never saw it. Part of his all was his fault. He hadn't been paying enough attention, playing charades with his sweet baby girl.

When his bed-mate woke, he didn't, merely shifted his head lightly, dream pulling at him again as it did every single night now. But this time, instead of screaming himself awake, all that would come would be a gathering of crystal-clear tears at the corner of those closed eyes, a parting of lips for a broken whisper of 'Christine' and stillness again. Things would have been so much easier if the nightmare gave him a day off, but nothing did it any good. Well nothing but those nights he fell to sleep with the haze of the drug, then he had nothing but darkness to cling to, and there was nothing more comforting than darkness when dreams held no good.

Those salty gathering of tears eventually trailed down already lightly moist cheeks, perhaps the only sign that this wasn't the first time tonight that he was going through whatever his mind saw fit to put him through. The only thing that could have broken anyone's heart, is that somehow he still slept through all of this, the dark having such a strong hold over him that it would take more than those mere images to wake him this time around.

Nicholas: Luck was with him today, fickle woman that she was, and James was still asleep. He very carefully withdrew from the bed and padded over to the closet to find some proper lounging clothes since he had no intention whatsoever of leaving his room or doing any work at all. Had Nicholas bothered to put his glasses on he would have noticed the distress on James’ face, as it was he didn’t have them on, so it went ignored. A few shuffling, tugging, and tripping over comfortable denim moments later had him searching with a hand for something to pull his hair back with, there weren’t any ties in the area so he settled for twisting the mass at the back of his skull, sticking a pencil through it and twisting, tucking, turning the stick until the messy bun/chignon/twist of auburn doom held.

There, he was set for doing absolutely nothing. He had to lean over James to retrieve his glasses and at that moment the soft name echoed to him. Christine. Who was Christine, and why did she bring James so much sorrow? Nicholas was still fighting through the haze of sleepiness and his own poor vision, though at the very least the latter was dealt with when he pulled on his glasses. Tears caught his eye along with the obvious evidence that James had not only recently started to cry. For a few moments Nicholas was dumbfounded, uncertain as to what he should do and simply crouched next to the bed, staring at his employer. How does one comfort someone they had a working relationship with? No, not just a working relationship, they were friends of a sort. That changed his mental assessment of the situation to something workable. How did one comfort a friend in distress?

The answer was obvious enough as he slipped back into the bed, sitting up and propped against the wall, and pulled James against him loosely, cradling the taller man and tucking his head under his chin. This had always worked in Egypt with Luk’man, the poor boy had night terrors all the time and needed a friend to look after him. James was younger than him by a little, after all, so this was passable, acceptable. He spent a few moments cradling James, saying nothing before rubbing his back absentmindedly and murmuring quietly that everything was all right, it was just a dream (even if it wasn’t but that was beside the point) and that nothing was going to happen. The staples of a comforting murmur, if you would.

James: Luck was more than fickle, and he personally had none of it. Had he been awake, at this point in time he would have begun wondering if he couldn't ask for sleeping pills. He didn't care about the side effects, all he wanted was one single night without a nightmare, without the scene repeating itself over and over again. Eventually it would drive him beyond what was considered sane and he would snap, then what? Well then one would see, as for now he was just on the edge, holding the form of his daughter against his own in a dream that was nightmare that was once reality. He hadn't been able to hold her before, when she had died, they had taken her without a single word. All he had wanted was to say goodbye one last time.

When he was moved, shifted, cradled, he didn't fuss, didn't struggle. He actually leaned in, but barely, merely relaxed against what seemed to be a source of comfort that was trying to pull him from a dark place that scared him. James didn't scare him easy, but that scene did, it scared, troubled, and did a dozen more things to him that he didn't want to think about. It wasn't much longer before he started awake with a soft jerk, not daring however to pull away from what still was comforting to him. He couldn't stop himself from uttering his daughter's name one last time before shuddering and lifting one hand to rub his eyes just lightly. Finally, an apology escaped his lips, near inaudibly, before he shuddered lightly.

Straightening lightly, barely, he kept his gaze down, utterly comforted by the presence that hadn't been there in past nights to keep him from soaking his pillows through with tears, but just as well bothered by the fact that it seems he was relying on someone for something that had nothing to do with his host, for the most part in any case. "I should.." he starts but stalls, frowning softly, "probably head back to the medical center.." for a long, long, long bath. He could get himself around with just one arm, as long as the bathroom was set for someone with a disability.

Nicholas: He let James pull away when he wanted, staring at the wall and thinking of exactly nothing when he heard his employer, no, they weren’t working this weekend so that label wasn’t applicable. So he was looking and thinking of nothing when his friend spoke. “…To bathe?” He murmured in reply, tipping his head down and quirking a brow. That would involve leaving the room and walking to the medical center and possibly running into Eric, which was bad. So he could just bathe him here…but that would involve an naked James and that could be very frustrating and embarrassing for him, which was bad, but had no possibility of running into Eric or leaving the room, which was good. So what would he do? If he didn’t think of something Eric was probably going to come over and take James for a bath and enjoy it far too much for his own good, Nicholas remembered his sponge baths with him well enough to know that would be very, very bad.

So they’d do it here, but how? Oh bugger plans to hell, he’d just wing it. “How about you stay here and use my bathroom? I don’t think I’ve ever used the tub so it’s fresh and clean, virginal even. You could deflower my tub.” Interesting choice of words but his mind tended to go funny on him this early in the morning if he didn’t have any actual thinking planned for the day. He didn’t really give James a chance to reply, to say yay or nay, he just scooped a hand under James, stood up, wobbled slightly under the man’s bulk but caught himself, and padded to the bathroom. He dragged a stool along with them just in case and set the thing down next to the tub, and then sat James on the stool. He knew the man must hate being handled thusly but he wasn’t in a very talkative mood because he knew for damn certain that it was very likely to be incoherent vulgarities if he did speak pouring from his mouth.

So that’s where they were, in the bathroom with him plugging the tub and moving from the stool to the cupboard, getting some of his obnoxiously large and fluffy towels and washcloths to set close to the tub and a fresh set of soap and shampoo. James could, if he wanted, say no at any time say no and he’d dress himself properly and take him to the medical center and pray to every god he’d ever uncovered that they wouldn’t run into Eric. It was Saturday and that man had only one thing on his mind on Saturdays and it usually involved many positions and acts Nicholas wanted no part of at the moment, if ever, if at all at any point in his life.

James: He was quiet, he had to be quiet. For every breath he took within this room really made him feel as if he was being a bother, in some way he knew he wasn't but it couldn't be helped. "It seems I'm unable to be left on my own to bathe as long as my wrist isn't healed.." which was a half-truth, but he had no true will to struggle against Eric's choice of words at this point in time. He blinked owlishly as he listened to the words offered to him, only half grasping the thought and mentions of a virginal tub and that he could deflower it. Shaking his head softly, he had been about to add something when he was moved again. Damn this, he was still too unused to this and he didn't think he could get used to it. He wanted the use of his legs again and would have given everything so that he could have such a thing. Brushing the thought away, he merely closed his eyes, imagining the stool he knew he was sitting on. He could feel it.

There was nothing for him to say now and so he stayed quiet, merely half-watching, half heartedly as it was before he breathed a sigh and perhaps sought to think of something to utter, not caring for the quiet that seemed settled amongst them, not that it was uncomfortable, but he merely didn't care much for it. "You mentioned wanting to make up for the appointment that had been missed.." though not the best of places to discuss this, it was all he could have thought about, feeling ever foolish, perhaps ever the child, and yet Eric never quite managed to make him feel that way, no, with Eric he merely wanted to curl in on himself and be left alone, that was all. Blinking at the thought, he frowned again and stared at his toes, willing them to move with all he had.

That of course, miserably failed and he sighed softly, turning his gaze to his host once more. "And.." now his mind was perhaps beginning to relax, which wasn't really that bad of a thing, "do you intend to carry me left and right all day, or should I keep in mind that I'll eventually be set back to my chair?" this time around his lips quirked just faintly, teasing barely before he lifted a hand to ruffle his hair. "and.. I'll have to call the remodelling team after this..."

Nicholas: “If Eric told you that it’s best to consider it a load of bull.” Nicholas spoke frankly and darkly as he filled the tub, keeping a hand under the faucet and asking congenially with a voice free of any and all venom, “Do you prefer, frigid, cold, cool, room temperature, lukewarm, hot, or scalding?” It was easier to keep his mind on the mechanics of filling the tub and altering the water temperature rather than focus on the fact that he would have to help James strip and get into the tub. He’d done it before when Luk’man had broken his leg but this was still a different, newer sort of relationship and he wanted it to go well. Nicholas had very few people he’d call friends, mostly because not many bothered to get to know him and partly because he was always researching and moving.

But he was staying here and James understood his passion, even admired it. Either way he blinked a few times at the mention of the meeting and nodded, that meant he’d have to think but if James really wanted to have that meeting while he was in the tub Nicholas would be more than happy to accommodate the man. “I’ll just have to get my files from the cabinet next to the bed and hope you don’t splash very much.” He quipped as he sat back on his haunches and looked over to James, most of his mild discomfort and desire for direction conveyed in his posture, the tilt of his head and crease between his brows. That was, at lest, until James spoke of being carried everywhere

“If I carry you everywhere I’ll throw out my back, again, and need to be in a chair right along with you, so no. I just didn’t want to wheel that thing in here. Bathroom tile and wheelchairs do not mix. Any other sort of tile? They work just fine but with bathroom tile they never work and you end up hurting yourself more often than not.” Reaching up he rubbed a spot on the back of his head where he’d cracked it, there was still a minute scar on his scalp, from his time in a wheelchair. “I’ll give you my phone, or find your phone, or find the phone that came with this room…I think it’s under the bed with the flails, or behind the desk with the Norse shields…one of the two.”

James: "There isn't much I can do with just one of four limbs available.. I guess it's as much what he told me as it is my personal experience.." he'd tried to bathe himself a few days in with the cast that had rather badly backfired. Sighing softly, pondering his offered choices, knowing he would usually prefer a warm bath, he settled on otherwise for the time being, for reason that were beyond him, "I suppose I can settle for cold, for the time being.." he shook his head softly, managing the ghost of a smile as he straightened lightly, actually amazed he was able to sit straight at all as after all, he was paralyzed mostly from the waist down. He shouldn't have been able to sit straight, maybe it was from the legs down in the end.

"I can wash myself well enough once I'm in the tub.. so I suppose we could discuss otherwise yes, and I'm not a child, unless you get me started, I will behave and splash nothing and nowhere." he mock-huffed the last part of his sentence, a faint smile again finding his lips. "I'm.... just used to being... so independent.." he offers softly, near inaudibly. "Walking every Saturday, archery, kendo, horseback riding, martial arts.." he lifts a shoulder softly but drops the subject altogether, really not being up to discussing this kind of thing with anyone else. "And my phone is on the left-side pocket on my wheelchair, so I can use that one." He was quiet then, merely gazing to the water as it filled up sufficiently.

Again however, his attention moved towards his toes and to those he stared long and hard, willing them to move with all he had, and low and behold, he squawked and moved to reach down as he almost swore to himself he saw a twitch, something, and by such motions nearly sent himself tumbling, nearly but didn't. Then again, he couldn't see much with those socks still on, so he really had to be imagining it all at this point, that was sort of sad in its own way.

Nicholas: Having been informed of James’ water preference he adjusted the taps accordingly and allowed the tub to fill itself as it would, the damn thing could very well fill up on its own now, couldn’t it? And his mind was going funny again, he noticed with a sigh and reached down to plug the drain so the tub would, in fact, fill. This was turning out to be a glorious morning indeed. Definitely worth making a mark of in his journal, and yes, despite giving up the cause of narrative writing he still wrote at least once a week a battered, beat up old leather bound book. He had three that were refurbished and rebound for looking back on in his things, but no matter how much care he took he always, always ended up beating the living fire out of the book. It was simply fate, he supposed, and let it go on as long as the pages weren’t damaged.

“Why would I ever want to get you started? That would involve something in you having ended and I’m in no mood to agitate anyone. Today is for not thinking and lazing about. And maybe reading a book or two, but that would involve thinking, so mostly laying around and recovering from my self inflicted injuries.” He murmured, tipping his head to the side to better listen to James speak. He really did enjoy hearing the man’s voice, so smooth, so calm, and so controlled and if he didn’t shift he’d nod off again. “Other than hauling around my papers and working on digs the only exercise I ever get is by…well…dancing. Latin ballroom, but it’s hard to find a good partner that won’t try to sleep with you if you’re any good.” He shrugged and sat back against the wall, keeping an eye on the water so it wouldn’t overflow.

The squawk caught him off guard and he saw James lunge forward, fearing that the man had lost his balance he too darted close to grab him around the middle but since James was perfectly balanced his momentum overcompensated for something that wasn’t a problem at all. The result was the two of them tumbling over with lucky, lucky Nick landing on the bottom of the two man pile and knocking his head against the tile enough to stun him. It felt as if it was happening in slow motion, he saw it coming and like a canoe tipping over knew there was nothing he could do to stop it so he may as well kick back and enjoy the few moments before his head was cracked against something hard and unpleasant. The only thing that passed from his lips as they fell was a soft, resigned, “Oh bugger.” And then the world went hazy.

James: "Well you are the one who acted childishly last afternoon, who knows what you could do in the vicinity of water.." he rose a brow, smiling slightly as his voice was softly teasing once more. Again his features were canted softly, a soft curiosity within him as he couldn't help but want to know more, of course, "I knew a few professionals.. competition-dancers, they're amazing." He liked it well enough, it was calming in its own way to watch the dancers move so smoothly, as if they were made of liquid silver or something else that flowed so well. Well he knew a little of everything really, so it was easy for him to find common points with those he approached, when he did do such a thing.

He nearly cursed when it seems his reaction had been misunderstood, and much as they had seemed to go in slow motion for his host, they didn't move much faster for him. His eyes widened, almost tempted to try and roll them over- not something he could manage considering how his legs usually didn't respond to him and never again would- he could only watch helplessly, eyes being closed securely for a few moments before he was trying to lift himself up in part, using his only good limb for support as he allowed eyes- that at this moment seemed to be made of pure gold- to roam over the other in quiet worry. "Are you alright?" it was all he could really offer, worry in those golden orbs as he only stared, being unable to do much else.

That was one of the reasons why he hated the chair. Though it had started as being worse, really, when he really had been paralyzed from the waist down and couldn't even sit straight. If anything, now the only thing he couldn't really do was walk. "I- I'm sorry, I guess my reaction wasn't for what you expected it to be.. childish as it is I swear I saw my toes shift, which is idiotic because I know it won't happen and I can't see anything with those socks on anyway and.." he trailed off there, part of his true nature shining through as once he got to worrying, he blabbered on.

Nicholas: “…I…” Nicholas frowned, no; he wanted to say more now didn’t he? Move the lips, push out air, vibration of the vocal cords, no keep the tongue in the mouth you great buffoon and say something wise, something witty. “…Potato.” It was all he could manage at the moment though he did manage to say it with the air of someone sage and learned. But really now, potato? Why potato? Why not one of the other thousands of vegetables he knew. Alright, it would be best to get this cleared up so he should try again. Once more he took a slow breath, blinking owlishly up at the man above him, well he couldn’t look down to someone above him now, could he? No, no, say something, don’t think!

“Cumquat.” He quipped this time, and then frowned because it wasn’t what he wanted to say at all. “Flounder?” Nick attempted, shook his head and thought to himself for a long while before finally connecting the dots and trying again. “Nick fall down. Smack head.” Better, but now let’s try proper grammar, shall we? Take it slow, breathe a few times and keep your eyes on his, there, that’s easy now isn’t it? Alright, give it a go. “…I fell.” Better. Try to elaborate. “I think…I think I can’t feel my toes.” Good, good…wait. He blinked and frowned again because he couldn’t, in fact, feel his toes. He craned his head around the bulk on top of him and wiggled the little buggers, satisfied when they moved and then flopped his head back down again.

“They must be asleep.” Sleep. Sleep’s good. Sleep sound really good right about now. But no, James had to bathe. Who’s James? Oh, right, he’s James. James, James, James. Let’s try that one, shall we? “Jammm…” His vocal abilities weren’t at their prime it seemed. “James.” There we go; and now variations, sentences with ‘James’ in them. “Hello James.” Good, something longer maybe? “I’m fine James.” Even better! Let’s try one more before trying to sit up. “…my dear James.” He mumbled before falling back into thoughtful silence.

James: Well this really wasn't comforting him, and though he direly wanted to roll away, he found he couldn't his legs just wouldn't respond to him- no shit, that was to be expected, his legs weren't supposed to respond to him. Shaking his head softly, he only listened to his host, getting confused by the second as much as he was amused- he shouldn't have been amused but this was too funny, really. Still he kept on a serious face, features still worried as he gazed to his temporary.. err.. pillow. Shaking his head again, he stared still, wanting to straighten but knowing he couldn't without the help. Now wait, yes, yes they'd both fallen that the other couldn't feel his toes worried him briefly but he followed that gaze and breathed a faint sigh of relief.

Jam. No, he wasn't Jam, he was Ja- yes, James, there. Now greetings, sure, that was good. That the other claimed to be fine only served to further worry him but he didn't let it show as much. However, what followed next had him flushing crimson, coughing just lightly and then conveniently looking away. Clearing his throat lightly, he leaned down, actually pressing his cheek to Nicholas' own for all of a few moments before he was pushing himself back on his good hand, applying some pressure of his broken one- something that earned a sharp hiss from him- and somehow managed to sit himself up. Well this was a start. His gaze however moved sharply towards the tub and he shook his head. The damn thing was going to overflow.

Growling slightly under his throat, he further struggled with his lack of motions, stretching just enough to turn the water off as more and once he was in, it indeed would have over flown. Sighing faintly, he reached one hand into the cold water, cupping as much as he could- which wasn't a lot- and flung it towards his host, hoping to bring back some sense into the man. He had promised not to splash, but this was a special occasion.

Nicholas: Nicholas was, for his part, very still, the only movement he offered the world while he tried to sort his damned head out. Nothing was where it should be and he’d already filed all his information so why in the buggering hell was he trying to do it again? Oh right, he hit his head. He could hear himself laughing at himself inside his skull, which had perfect acoustics so the laugh kept going and going and he knew he had a headache from that rather than the bump to his head because that headache was at his temple whereas the other was at the base of his skull. Damn laughing man. Files, right, the files, he sorted through everything and finally got most of it put where it belonged, the rest would sort itself out when he slept, though that would be much, much later so he could be certain he didn’t give himself a concussion. Again. He wasn’t normally this accident prone, he swore.

He swore again, out loud though, when he was splashed with the cold water and sat up very quickly, which made his head dizzy so he reached out to steady himself on his dear James’ shoulders. His momentum was very great once more though and he ended up halting only because his torso ran smack into his dear James’. The most prominent and disconcerting result of this was the fact that their lips were, as some would say, locked. He was kissing James, but he didn’t mean to, so it was more that their faces were very close and their lips happened to be touching. Right. It felt pretty nice though, he had to give it that much even as he panicked and sputtered, flailing (in his mind) and jerked backwards fast and hard enough to knock himself on the head again when he hit the tile.

Dazed again he simply stared up at the ceiling, raised his fist high to the heavens and said, “Fuck it! I’m not moving until the funny man stops laughing.” And then he let his fist fall back to his side as the laughter in his head kept on going. He’d laugh about this later, he was sure, but now he had to not move. It hurt to move.

James: This really was turning out to be one of the oddest days in history to date. He wouldn't complained, it was fun in its own twisted way and he actually found himself liking it. Not that he'd ask for a repeat of it, but still, it was good to actually relax, for the most part, and be himself, for once in so long. Ruffling his own hair at the thought, he missed the other's rapid reaction and could only blink when he realized that he.. uh, was being kissed. Not so much that he was being kissed that it seems their face were more than close and the rest of that was already pointed out, so no point to it. He could have almost pressed back into the touch had the awake part of his mind not pointed out that this wasn't really right, no matter how nice it did feel.

When Nicholas finally dropped back- and he cringed when it happened- he sighed softly, only watching the other as his lips quirked just faintly, the action beyond him as part of his mind now settled on the accident-kiss, pondering the what ifs of it while the front part of his mind instead paid more attention to the fact that he was in this bathroom for a bath, and he would get that bath, even if he somehow had to get himself in the tub alone. Chuckling softly, wryly at the idea, he actually eased himself away from his sprawled companion as best as he could, settling on the floor itself as he then stretched and saw to trying to take his socks off. Those came off easily enough and he sighed in relief at it all.

Next, he worked slowly at slipping out of the thin turtleneck that adorned him, working out his bandaged arm first, the other arm following suit, and then he pulled it over his head, settling it beside his form. His chest, though once ever smooth, was now covered in a variety of scars, the most prominent one seeming to stretch from the soft spot of his left shoulder nearly down to the end of his sternum. Though it wasn't wide per se, it did stand out sharply for its color against the soft tone of his skin.

Nicholas: Finally, finally the laughing stopped and Nicholas wanted to stay still but James was here for a bath and was hell bent on getting one since he was undressing. His eyes danced over and around those scars before giving up and he propped himself up by way of the tub and rubbed the back of his head with a low oath of pain. “…I hate early mornings, and this is why. Gravity hates me.” He mumbled and righted himself, adjusting his clothing as he pulled out the pencils from his hair, that’s why it had hurt his head so much. Now with a mass of wavy auburn hair between him in the world he scrubbed his fingers through it, attempting to tame the untameable and then giving up on the futile effort, ending up looking sensually mussed without realizing it. That was often the result of anything he did with his hair now that he’d trimmed it up neatly, and he was always oblivious to any attentions he received from the fact.

“Do you…do you want me to help?” He asked, tipping his head to the side and eyeing the clothes that remained on James and knowing that yes, his help would be needed, but it depended on if James wanted his help or not. That was more important than if he was required to assist. James was an independent, fully grown man and he would not treat him as an invalid. It was rude.

James: "I apologize.. I'm personally so used to being up at sunrise, and as of lately having to wait until whenever Eric is up to get me out of bed.. well I'm too used to it.." he lifts a shoulder weakly, lifting his good hand to trace the main scar that had nearly taken his life. All of his thoughts ended up trailing rather sharply off however when that hair came loose. He would have started drooling, had he not kept his mouth shut and trained his eyes elsewhere. Now this wasn't a good thing. The kiss, though accidental, that hair- he wanted to touch it desperately, brush it, play with it- it was setting his nerves afire, and that was something that hadn't happened since the wedding night. It was a bit bothersome but he brushed the thought away as well as he could, the cold bath would help.

"I'm afraid I will need the help whether I want it or not.. unless you'd appreciate the sight of my squirming to try and get out of my pants.." not that he could squirm a whole lot, but the idea could have been amusing to some. "But I would appreciate the help, yes.." he smiled weakly then, lifting his hand to rub his temples lightly then, to ward off what felt like a soft headache as one of those he was beginning to be familiar with now. "From there on, the moment I'm in the water, I'm certain I can take care of my washing needs, so you'll be able to locate my cell phone or your files depending on the next plan of action.." though he paused again, once more genuine worry in those golden orbs, "are you really alright, though..?"

Nicholas: Nicholas tipped his head to the side and shrugged, the action causing his hair to fall in his eyes and he muttered as he brushed it back, shaking it behind his shoulders while scooting forward to assist with James’ pants. The thought of the taller man squirming didn’t even register with him, how could someone so calm and cool ever squirm? He shook his head and continued to strip James clinically and slowly, as to not cause more distress in his head, lifted the man and set him in the tub, pivoting and moving everything within arms reach for him. Each and every one of his movements were slow, calculated, he didn’t want to go sprawling again, he might come to rambling in Greek and unable to swap back to English at this rate.

“I’m fine. Really, I’ve taken worse whacks to the head and come out without any horrible brain damage. I’ve been told the only lasting repercussions were that my social skills, alas, would never quite be up to par but I think I manage well enough without them, don’t you?” He smirked and grinned at James over the side of the tub, eyes on those golden orbs, his own green ones flashing in mild amusement. See, he was already laughing at what had happened. This was a healthy way to deal with stressful situations, to laugh at them.

James: Bared and in the tub, he offered a gentle 'Thank you' with a faint quirk of his lips, working slowly- once everything it seems was set within his reach- at cleaning himself up, the part of his own form he could reach, in any case. And that, without wetting the forsaken bandage that kept a healed, but not strong wrist from being jarred. "I'm afraid I may require help for my hair and my back.. when I get there, that is.." his voice was soft, uncertain almost as if he was being even more of a bother to ask such a thing. Shivering a moment, getting used to the cold water, he went about rubbing his legs, the easiest part of him he could see to, and the main part at this point. Again however he paused, staring at his toes another long while before he reached down- damned flexible- and made to wiggle them through the help of his fingers, mumbling to himself, "see, this is what you're supposed to do, dumb toes, move. Move." Not that it would happen.

"I'm glad you're alright though.." he did worry quite a bit when he was given a chance to, something that really didn't happen often. "Though..uhm.." why look, he was flushing softly now, something that really didn't seem that much out of place on those handsome features, "I could probably take care of your hair after this.. just.. brush it, tie it back." He could use the fingers of both his hands, after all. But he sounded so timid asking that it could have been considered cute. If 'cute' fit him in some way.

Nicholas: “I’ll be happy to help you, I’ve done the same for a few of my other friends when they were too sore or beat up to do so for themselves.” Nicholas replied, having fished out a book and was currently sitting a ways away from the tub, on the floor. So he could see James’ head and nothing else emerged from the porcelain monolith. Reading always calmed him down, though his ears pricked to hear James talking to his toes and he chuckled softly before offering his advice. “They tend to respond better to sweet talking. Tell them they’re pretty and that they make you laugh or some of that nonsense and they might wiggle for you. It worked well enough for my aunt.” So many relatives, so many stories to tell that it was no wonder Nicholas was so well adjusted, so confident no matter what might happen to him…outside of relationships of any sort other than familial.

“I’m glad I’m alright too, I can’t very well teach if I’m in a coma now can I?” Another smile, another chuckle as he flipped a page and looked down to read a few more words, make a few more notes in the margins of his book. The question had him blinking, he looked up and saw that flush and thought of how attractive it was, then flushed on his own and looked back down, hiding his face with his hair. “Sure. I usually end up leaving it a mess if I’m not doing anything for the rest of the day.”

James: "Thank you.." He was pretty certain that this bath would hold better memories than any of the baths he had had 'with' Eric so far, and threatened to have until his wrist was better. "I refuse to sweet talk them. They're stupid, they're evil, and even when I could still walk, Christine spent her time walking on them and and and.." he trailed off again with a faint mutter, staring actually at the place where one toe was missing. It wasn't quite as visible as some other things could have been, it actually took one looking at it twice, but it was there. "They're not meant to wiggle so I don't expect them to." again his shoulder lifted softly and he resumed washing himself, done with one leg he continued with the second.

"I'm afraid I would feel terribly guilty if you weren't alright." he canted his head lightly, a few more words offered, in his native Slovenian however, that could perhaps be summed up as to how one did look with said hair placed just the right way. Brushing the thought elsewhere, putting it down to the fact that maybe it was just that he was in a foreign room, that he was in a foreign tub with someone he didn't know so well but wanted to know better. The thought went all the wrong way in his mind and he flushed darkly again. "I would grow my hair out.. but I don't think it would look good on me, so I'm keeping it this way.. I guess it fits me, in any case." And it did, any longer would look utterly out of place on him.

Nicholas: “You’d have every right to be guilty since you are the reason I was injured, so long as I remain awake for the next few hours I think I’ll be fine.” Nicholas quipped, chuckling a little at James’ ranting about his toes, for some odd reason he found it unbearably cute. Though he wouldn’t say as much, while a friend James was still his employer and he couldn’t be teased or thought of as cute. It wasn’t proper, though what was and what wasn’t proper normally had a steady line and it continued to be blurred the more time he spent with James.

That wasn’t something he wanted to think about overmuch, it promised unpleasantness on various levels. Still it was best to enjoy his company now and worry later, much, much later when he wasn’t so tired and his head didn’t ache so much.

“My hair used to be much longer, and much wilder. I tend to forget to cut it when I’m out at dig sites and my kids have fun braiding it when I fall asleep. Mischievous little things, they are.” He murmured with a chuckle, tugging on a lock of his hair and remembering how it looked in a braid. “I think your hair is fine the way it is.”

James: "Now that's not playing fair. You're as much to blame as I am for this." he huffed softly, finishing up his second leg before starting to wash his chest quietly, humming just faintly under his breath as he did so. As despite his throat having been cut open, if there was one thing to know about him, is that if he had not bought back the school, chances are he would have been an opera singer, could you really imagine? it seems frightening in itself, but his voice was something you remembered no matter what it was that came from those lips, words, lyrics, who knew right? But one should never take him to karaoke, that was just sad. And bad. He could sing. Opera. Not common every day songs.

"I'm sure we can find something to keep ourselves busy with, after I've called the repair crew. Like you telling me what you wanted to discuss with me on that appointment I so willingly missed." Well not so willingly, but one could note the soft amused note that escaped him as he washed his shoulder. Longer, was it? It was too easy to imagine that hair actually longer and he shook his head with a soft shudder, not able to truly understand whatever it was that was going through his mind at that very moment. Sighing ever softly, just mildly, he canted his head lightly, as if trying to see what book was being read.

Wetting his hair lightly, he pondered washing it and actually did, being quiet but thorough as he worked and that until he was clean, for the most part. "I'm afraid I'm going to need that help for my back now, though.. it's the only thing that's actually left to wash.." that was still dirty, in any case.. short of his mind, but that was aside the point now, wasn't it? Yes, yes it was.

Nicholas: “It was a tease, James, nothing more.” Nicholas replied softly, setting the book aside and rising to slip up behind his friend in the tub, rolling his sleeves back and brushing his fingers against James’ shoulder and waited for him to hand him the washcloth and soap. He would need them to wash the aforementioned back now, wouldn’t he? It took some effort to shrug off any awkwardness he’d feel for it, this was just a small washing of the back. Nothing horribly weird or difficult, just a back scrub and he would manage just fine. That humming intrigued him a bit but he’d ask later when they were both clothed and after the call had been made. So much to do when all he really wanted was to relax, this was really turning out differently than he’d hoped when he’d collapsed the night before.

James: "Oh I know. Still.." he lifts a shoulder faintly, shifting barely when he was joined and holding up both wash cloth and soap when it was requested of him. How quiet his voice when he finally did talk, lashes lowered and almost contemplative. "I'm afraid... that despite my position, my place in the world.. I'm not.. used to the presence of others." How odd a thing to mention. He wasn't a popular boy back in school, despite that yes, he did do some work for teachers and the principal back then alike. Hell, that's why his throat had been slit, right? Shaking his head softly to clear his mind again, he dropped his features and merely settled for the time being.

"And..once I place my call, If you'd be so kind as to allow me back to the balcony, I'll be more than happy to once again be out of your way and let you relax, unless you're really intent on wanting to discuss what it is we were supposed to talk about at that meeting." How he couldn't stop himself from wrinkling his nose again- ever the rabbit- and straightened slightly. "I'm pretty certain I can dry myself, too... I really do feel bad for intruding this way.. though you're the one who invited me.." to which he chuckled just faintly, head shaken softly again. This was odd in itself, really.

Nicholas: “That would make two of us. One on one I’m never all that certain of what I should do or say so I settle for not doing or saying anything at all or by rambling, or rather, lecturing. It seems to entertain some people and it certainly helped me understand my kids better.” So comfortable was he that he now mentioned his second family, his adoptive children, most never knew who were the children he had in all of his photos, or who sent him letters and mementos on a weekly basis. He didn’t talk about them normally, they where his family, his secret and he didn’t care what others thought. They were his, and he was theirs, and no one else need be involved or aware for all he cared.

“I’ll be happy to take you to the balcony, I plan on settling there myself when we’re done with this as I’ve a letter, well, package to go through that I received yesterday and am very eager to open. Don’t feel poorly for my insisting that you stay here. It’s not comfortable to be alone all the time, awkwardness around other people aside…” Nicholas trailed off with a shrug and scrubbed James’ back gingerly, hovering a little longer here and there than absolutely necessary and blushing when he caught himself at it. Shaking his head he continued lathering and rinsing off his employer.

That done he sat back and towelled off his hands and slipped out of the bathroom so that James could dry himself but didn’t move far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to help if he was needed.

James: He nearly started to purr when his back was being washed, it felt so good, actually so welcome. He kept himself from whining in soft disappointment when the washing ended, straightening lightly and nodding just softly. "Your kids.." Nicholas didn't seem the type to be a father as was, "adopted, I take it..?" if it had been mentioned to him before he sadly didn't remember, but he hoped he could be forgiven for it. He had massive memory blanks since he'd started taking medications. "Package.." he repeated the word with a soft note of longing. Once he was left on his own, he pulled the plug and pondered for a long moment how to go at this. It wouldn't be so hard really.

Using his good arm, once the water had drained utterly, he wiped most of the water from his form, primarily drying himself that way. Once that was done, he struggled briefly but managed to draw himself to sit on the edge of the tub. From there on, it was a bit more complicated but he saw fit to it. It was slowly and steadily that he moved one leg over to the other side of the tub, followed by the other. Well then, now he was halfway there. Reaching for the previously used bench, he drew it closer and repeated the process, slowly but securely moving himself from tub to bench. Once there, and getting his hand on a towel, he dried up to the bed of his ability before one thing, one very simple thing came back to mind.

He didn't have anything but the clothes he had been wearing the day before to change into. Frowning at the thought, he settled the towel on his lap and cleared his throat lightly, "I'm afraid I didn't think to bring any extra clothes with me when we so rapidly left my room, though.." he called out softly, not mind the idea of going about with the boxers from the day before- he had actually had to change those not long before dinner- but the clothes.. well one wouldn't go there.

Nicholas:“They adopted me…I’ll explain more later.” He murmured at the doorway, over his shoulder before slipping out to retrieve said package from aforementioned family. Nicholas found it, hidden between his albums and sari’s stacked up in a cedar chest. He’d tucked it there so he wouldn’t forget it and as much as he wanted to open it now that would have to wait until he’d taken care of James. So he padded out to the balcony and set it on his lounging chair, noting the angle of the sun and altering the rigging of the canopy so that there was optimal shade.

It didn’t take long before he was satisfied and padding in to roll the chair close to the bathroom door, just in time to hear James’ plight too. “We…oh dear we didn’t did we? Alright, hold on a moment and I’ll try to find you…something. You’re taller than me, aren’t you? You are. This will be interesting.”

He turned back to his room and started to rummage around, togas, kimonos, and saris were plentiful and he was about to give up on finding anything when his fingers brushed something softer than air, and he pulled it out. It was a robe of Egyptian cotton dyed in the old fashion of batik, colored in all different shades of amber and gold. It was perfect and just the right size and Nicholas chuckled to himself as he slipped into the bathroom and offered it to his guest with a smile. “I’d all but forgotten about this. It was a gift from an old friend, but far too long for me.”

James: "Adopted.." oh it made him miss his sweet daughter but he squashed down the feeling, preferring not to focus too much on it, it would only hurt him more to think about that and thus he struggled with himself not to, knowing better indeed. While still being on his own, he somehow located his boxers, slipping those on by himself easily enough. They looked fine too, and he would have been indeed fine, for the most part, wandering in naught but those. But it wouldn't be right. His health wasn't at its best and catching a cold now wouldn't help him in any way. He only listened partly when he heard the other's going and coming steps, unable to stop himself from flushing softly as yet it was pointed out once more that he had nothing to change into.

He didn't bother answering to the taller comment, since it seemed as if his host was talking to himself and that was fine by him. While on his own still, he actually unrolled the stiff bandage from his wrist, merely checking his wrist out of pure curiosity before he wrapped the limb back up and canted his head softly once he was joined anew. "Thank you.." It was a beautiful piece, one that, had he been in any way the type that was full of himself, would have claimed that it had been made for him. His eyes were unusual in that way, as if purely made of gold on most days, though there were times when they were utterly green or even blue. It was a mystery in itself, one that was likely to never be explained in any way.

"It's beautiful.." he sighed lightly, brushing his fingers over the robe briefly though he only gazed for a few moments. "I'm afraid it may be a bit more complicated to put on than my boxers in their own way so I may need a little help again.." this really would be the last time he asks for help, for now if anything, he would otherwise be content to merely sit in his chair and stay out of the way like a good little puppy.. or whatever you wanted to call him.

Nicholas: “Yes, it’s not quite official by any governmental means though they consider it binding in the family…I have some photos.” Nicholas offered as he tipped his head to the side and looked from James to the robe in his hands and back again, a crease forming between his brows and bringing out the mild lines he had there from constant use. This would be tricky indeed and he stood there a few moments continuing to look between the garment in his hands and his dried, semi clad guest before sighing. They’d do this the simplest way possible, and that would be to start with the arms and then work from there, the robe was a rap around style anyway with togs and a belt that was currently lying across Nick’s shoulders.

He stepped forward and unfurled the robe with a slight shrug as he slipped James’ arms through the holes and settled the bulk of the fabric across James’ shoulders and then slipped on of his arms beneath his guests. Then all he had to do was lift and tuck the fabric around James with one arm.

That shouldn’t be so difficult, no? Normally it wouldn’t, but right now Nick was dizzy and tired and he had to focus to finish the task at hand but managed well enough. There. Now that the robe was in place he wrapped the fabric around James and took care of the togs and the waist sash, leaving his guest clad and very nicely he would say. “There. It looks better on you than it ever did me.” Nick smiled and offered a semi-awkward shrug as he lifted his employer and settled him in his chair, rolling him out to the balcony and pausing where there was the most shade. There was a slight breeze, it seemed, just enough to have the tubular bells on his canopy chiming.

“It’s lovely out today, don’t you think?” He murmured, looking around and appreciating the view fully before slipping a brush out of his pocked and setting it on the table next to James, he had to move his chair. Without really thinking about it he pulled and tugged and unhooked and stabilized his lounge chair so that he was perpendicular to James’ wheelchair and that his head would be close to, if not directly in, his lap. “Perfect.”

James: He wasn't really used to being dressed by someone else yet, let alone being dressed into something other than his regular pants and shirt or pants and suit. Shaking his head slightly, barely, he did his best to keep out of the way- how one keeps out of the way while being the one being dressed is a secret- and also tried his best to actually be helpful in the whole ordeal, if it could be considered an ordeal. He didn't say a word until he was back to his chair and being moved back towards the balcony. "It's a beautiful garment, yes.." in some part he barely felt deserving of wearing such a lovely piece, but it was on him, and he certainly wouldn't be trying to get out of it now. It felt comfortable, the day was beautiful, and all was right in the world.. AH, not likely.

"Lovely, yes.. though I wouldn't trust the sky, as of lately during this season, rain does come unexpectedly.." not that he would complain, rain was a good thing in itself, though perhaps not while he was still in a chair this way (which in the end meant that rain wasn't good). While on his way to the balcony, he'd seen to stretch just lightly, digging into the pouch attached on the side of his chair to locate the cell phone. Once set, he was quiet but quick to dial a number and offer just a few brief words to whoever had picked up on the other end. Really, the conversation was short enough that by the time his host had settled the lounge chair, he had closed the phone and was dropping it back where he'd picked it up.

He was a bit surprised by the closeness of said chair and brush, but recalled what he had offered and could only flush ever lightly, more than happy that he was being allowed the freedom to something that could have felt so 'simple' to others. But there was nearly an art to brushing one's hair, and then something artsy altogether about brushing someone else's hair. But it was to feel that hair more than anything else that made him ever happy. He was a very.. thorough man. He did things completely and left no hair unbrushed, really.

Nicholas: “Hand woven and hand dyed, it normally would be an engagement garment, or so I’m told, but the young woman who made its husband was actually taller still and she had to give it away. I’d bee staying with her family and helped out with the process…a little…alright, I scraped the wax off when the dying was finished but that’s helping, right?” Nicholas shrugged as he slipped into his char and pulled his hair out from under him so James could do as he pleased, he didn’t mind at all, it was one less thing for him to do and it made him feel ever so slightly pampered. Not that he needed pampering, but the gesture was appreciated.

The package in his lap was large and covered with rough brown paper and fishing twine, it took him awhile to work it all off and reveal a simple, hand carved container that was covered in hieroglyphics, Arabic, and a few simple doodles here and there in the wood. With a smile in his eyes he traced the handiwork with his fingertips, a name pulled from his lips whenever the ‘handwriting’ changed. “Akila…Bes…Ishaq…” He chuckled and traced a roughly carved lotus; only one young woman loved them enough to try. “…Khepri.” He shook his head with a soft smile and continued to name his children.

“Madu…Saa…and Luk.” All his kids and his friend, sending him this, they knew how much he’d missed them. He actually had to reach up and brush moisture from his eyes before opening the lid of the box and lifting out a letter, but first he’d look through the knick knacks they sent him like he always did.

“Oh look, they sent something for you. I have written about you…I hope you don’t mind.” He lifted up a small carving of what appeared to be a crane, though elongated with the feel of flames pulling off of its wings and long, graceful tail. “Firebird…broken but rising again. I think they admire you.” He set the carving on the side of the end table and fished out another item that was for James. “Maybe a little too much.” He added with a chuckle and set a small onyx vial next to the carving. “Oils meant as a masculine perfume, Madu was making them last I heard.”

James: "An engagement garment.." he repeated the words quietly, as if tasting them and found that he couldn't help the ever so mild flush that overcame him, mind going to a few different directions as though it was now likely not the same thing- well one could follow that trail of thought easily enough, in any case. Clearing every thought away, his attention moved to that hair when it was finally settled just right. It was easy to slip his still bandaged hand and wrist under the mass, using the brush with slow, steady motion and running it through. If one had heard of the Hundred Strokes, he wasn't exactly keen on it, as brushing too much pulled hair that wasn't ready to be shed, but this was different. He knew just how to use the brush.

He only listened to the names as they were spoken, not so much storing them into his memory as making quiet note of them, so that perhaps if they were indeed mentioned later on he would not be completely in the dark as to their source. He had been deep into his so-called work when something was mentioned about there having been something sent for him and he stalled, bringing his mind back to the surface. "...for me..?" he gazed to the carving briefly, a soft smile pulling at his lips as this really was the first of anything he ever had received from anyone for any reason. It was only natural that it pull some sort of uncertain emotion from him. Still he said no more, canting his head lightly at the vial before returning to his brushing.

"They shouldn't have... and somehow I don't know what you could have found of interest to write about me.." shaking his head softly, he still kept most of his focus on the hair, actually braiding it very loosely once he was done with the brushing. He could have brushed endlessly, but there had to be an end to every good thing, and sadly this would have been one of them. Though maybe he could brush them again tonight- if he was still here tonight- or maybe tomorrow morning or.. well no point in letting hopes be raised.

Nicholas: “Well I wrote that you’re my employer, that you remain active despite being in a wheelchair and are adamant about this being a safe and comfortable school for the best and brightest to attend and that you’re very gracious.” Nicholas didn’t mention that he had slightly eluded to their friendship and the fact that James was attractive…a little…only a teensy, tiny bit…who was he kidding? James was handsome and knew how to work with his appearance whereas Nicholas, no matter how often he’s been told or photographed, was dead certain that he was utterly, horribly normal. He considered himself average in appearance.

Still he shook that from his mind and picked up the rest of the objects they’d sent him. A woven bracelet with glass beads from his youngest, Akila, Saa sent him a dagger from a tomb he’d been digging in and Nicholas shook his head as he set it aside. “He keeps on digging, even after the accident. That boy will have me dead from worry before I hit forty.” It had been quite unpleasant that, the cave in, Saa with a broken leg and him busting his back getting him out. Not exactly what he had in mind by way of family fun time but it had helped him bond with the young man. Luk had sent him another scroll, Madu had sent him a different vial of scented oil, Bes and Ishaq the twins had found him more stones for his canopy. And Khepri, sweet young Khepri, had sent him strings of beads for his hair.

Those he handed up to James, maybe the man would know how to slip them into his hair. “Khepri sent these, they’re for braiding into one’s hair…normally they’re gold and amber but those colors are lost in this mess.” He mentioned to the mass that James was brushing and my it felt nice. Very soothing, very slow, Nick had always enjoyed it when Madu or Khepri had brushed his hair, a few of his former lovers had played with it idly but no one had taken such time and care with brushing it before. It felt more like a follicle massage than a simple task. “That…feels very, very nice.” Almost a moan, soft and low and husky in ways that most would expect from a lover.

James: "Are we certain you weren't talking about someone else? I merely am set on the idea of giving these boys something to work their mind around instead of being deathly bored in another school, is all." He chuckled gently, partly gazing at what was coming out of the received package with well earned curiosity. "Isn't it a common saying that children will worry their parents into greying early?" The thought brought a soft pang of pain at his heart but he ignored it, actually taking the beads willingly and gazing at them a moment before a slight grin found his lips. "I know how to work with those.." and it would be a slow, but steady work that would indeed have him working those in place where he thought best fit.

Another light smile found his lips however, a shiver drifting from his core at the tone and he had to keep himself from stalling, instead he merely breathed deeply and continued on his work, movements slow, and never actually pulling if they snagged onto a knot. No, if they found a knot those fingers diligently worked at undoing it painlessly before he continued. "I'm glad to hear you're approving of this.. consider it payment for letting me stay in your room, mm?" in other words, he was willing to repeat this later if he was allowed, it was as relaxing for him as it seemed to be pleasurable for his host, and that was a good thing.

Eventually, as he neared the end of his work, a soft hum began to escape him again, fingers happy to merely brush through the stands, settling them here and there and seeing that his work looked as good as he thought it was supposed to. It sure looked fine in this case, he didn't see why anyone could complain about it. "I don't think they would look so good on anyone else, really." Oh my, flirting? Not so much as a simple, quiet compliment.

Nicholas: “Yeah but the last time Saa went tomb diving he broke his leg…that’s when I hurt my back…” Mumbling now and half asleep, none too eloquent and he reached up to pull his glasses off, very much prepared to fall asleep right there with James’ fingers in his hair. Never had he felt this relaxed from anything less than a full body soak and massage, it was nice. Just a lazy Saturday with nothing to do and…oh…James was talking again. From this distance his face wasn’t horribly fuzzy so Nick could still make out his lips moving and know that he was talking. So he should listen, so he did, catching words and connecting them until he understood what had been said and managed a soft chuckle. “I might want to keep you around for longer than a weekend if it means that I get to have you brush my hair…”

Oh yes, this was very nice, the morning was turning out very well despite the rough and bumpy start it had. He sighed quietly, eyes slipping all the way closed and mumbling something incoherent under his breath for no particular reason. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but the compliment had his eyes fluttering open, the green of them so much more intense without his glasses in the way. He’d be more attractive to some if he should ever choose contacts over his customary glasses, but he liked the frames and the convenience of them.

“Really?” Was all he could murmur, voice low and throaty and soft, so very different from his usual bright conversational voice, he wasn’t one for witty banter or compliments, or flirting. His voice worked well enough to bypass all the pretty words in the world for some though, even more so when he was half asleep and oh so pliant.

James: "I imagine how that could be problematic yes, I'm glad you're alright now." Wasn't he repeating that pretty damned often? It hardly could be helped, it hadn't been long really but he found himself rather fond of this latest addition to his staff- pun really not intended. There was a lowering of lashes as those glasses were taken off, mind latching once more on so many things, going so many ways, and being unable to really understand them. He no longer was a teenager, he really should not have reacted that way, after all. It made absolutely no sense. Breathing a soft, ever light sigh, he merely kept his fingers brushing almost tenderly along that hair, he found himself craving the chance he had to touch the mass and couldn't have asked for more.

Features canted lightly, brushing lightly along his host's forehead lightly and then down along his temples. "Well the crew may need more than just the weekend... but I will need more clothes come Monday..." he chuckles lightly, shaking his head somewhat, "and yes, really." He was innocent in all means and matters, in the end. This was so foreign to him, after all. Humming once more, softly under his breath, he found himself leaning closer, down to actually press his lips with a tenderness usually kept between close friends if not more, dead center to his host's forehead, murmuring a quiet 'this is pay back for earlier' before leaning back and settling against his chair, content to keep his hands moving and his body relaxed.

He was quiet then, murmuring softly, words incomprehensible as he seemed to be singing under his breath, something perhaps not so like a lullaby but it was relatively as quiet as one should have been, a sound meant to be soothing. This was a fine way to spend his weekend, better than past weekends if anything and perhaps he would manage to have another brief nap without nightmares, this time around.

Nicholas: It took very little of this treatment for Nicholas to fall entirely asleep, utterly relaxed and at peace with the world around him. His lazy nap was dreamless, well; it had shapes and scents but no coherent thoughts. The beads in his hair, the sensation of it being brushed, the scent of James’ hair from when they’d curled up together, the sands of Egypt and the oil he knew to be close at hand. The heat of the day grew as morning drifted into afternoon and the drapes no longer prevented the sun from caressing his pale cotton wreathed form. The breeze stopped to a bare stirring of wind and sticky heat started to form inside of Nicholas’ clothing. His skin beaded with sweat along his brow and nape, down the channel of his collarbones and his sternum, pooling at the hollow of his ribs and navel. More than enough to be uncomfortable in a vague fashion and he found himself waking slightly.

It was too hot. Still half asleep he unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, smoothing his fingers through the moisture pooled on his skin languidly. So much sweat…he’d have to move to be comfortable again. Not that he minded as he’d slept at an odd angle so his back was demanding some sort of respite. That much he could do. As he sat up he slipped out of his shirt the rest of the way, clad only in the beads in his hair and the low slung drawstring pants about his hips. He stood and stretched in a great, lean arch; his face turned up toward the canopy and his fingers brushing the thick cloth. Smiling at the memories it brewed he padded a ways away from his chair, looking about the fuzzy world that he lived in without his glasses.

Something in him ached for movement, though serene, and he did just that. Slowly he bent and twisted, arching and stretching and posing, flowing from one to the next. A variant of yoga he’d picked up to keep his back from seizing as often as it might, he usually did this every morning but had forgotten to do so today for some reason or another. Silent as snowfall he moved, unaware of his guest as he’d no memory of having a guest, he was still half asleep. Back bends, hand stands, forearm props, balanced poses and twists as he curled and uncurled, his lean, pale form twisting in the afternoon light.

James: It was amazing what good, quiet company could do to him. Not one usually for 'naps', his mind nevertheless drifted away from him as it seems he drifted into a brief moment of rest, dreaming of utterly nothing which was an ever good first step for someone who had not had a single dreamless night since the accident. They came and haunted him, tortured his mind and kept him from true, restful sleep. However, he did not stay in this quiet state long, lashes fluttering before long though he didn't move, noticing too well that his host still was resting. Though not for much longer as he had been about to lift a hand, touch that precious hair once more when Nicholas woke, if only somewhat. Features canted in curiosity, he kept quiet but watched keenly.

James felt a shiver touch his skin as the shirt was discarded, almost pulling his eyes away but he did not, he kept his gaze steady, not so much memorizing what he was seeing as still putting it to memory as something that seemed to fit his companion. And watch he did for a long moment, mesmerized in his own way until he voiced himself, ever so slowly, with words that really should not have been spoken to someone you hadn't even known for two months yet. And even so, he usually wasn't the kind to speak so freely, but something was pulling at him, it really was beyond his control, "has anyone ever mentioned how hauntingly beautiful you are?" He was quiet again moments later, as if letting that sink in, for both parties.

When it did sink in, on his part if anything, he turned his gaze away briefly, face flushing healthily as he couldn't bring himself to believe he had said such a thing. Though true, it really did not belong here, did it? Still he would not apologize for something that he knew he would eventually have wanted to say. Bringing one hand to cover his mouth, perhaps to further stop himself from saying anything else that could embarrass either of them, he sighs softly and sinks back fully into his chair, fair blush refusing to go anywhere but stay on his skin.

Nicholas: Extend the arm, pull up the leg and bend the other, squat, arch, twist and step. He repeated this process a few times as it really worked out the muscles in his ever tense lower back, moderating his breathing as he moved smoothly from one motion to the next, making simple yoga seem much more ritualistic, like tai-chi. Once he was on one foot and crouched, twisted half again behind his hips he decided it’d be the last time for this stretch and he’d move back to something simple for his calves. A deep inhalation that arched the curve of his abdomen in as he twisted further, emphasizing the hollow of his ribs and his hard stomach before he exhaled and made for that next step and-was startled by a voice. He blinked at the soft tone, head snapping around to the fuzzy figure of his guest when the actual words spoken finally sank in. Beautiful? Him? Wha-oh bloody hell.

Distracted as he’d been Nicholas had quite forgotten to finish putting his foot down, though his weight continued to shift and he found himself in a graceless sprawl in front of his guest, James. His employer was staying the night again…he’d forgotten him. Oh dear. The result of his rather short fall had his back twisted and somewhat arched, his head tipped upwards in James’ direction and elongating his slender column of a throat. His hips were twisted and what could be considered a sultry angle and his thighs, since he’d been crouching, were still somewhat spread. One arm had landed above his head, the hand close to his face and the other was out flung carelessly, though he could have attempted to right himself by grabbing James’ chair, it wouldn’t’ have been polite.

The auburn mess of his hair was waved in a sensual mess around his face and throat, which he cleared as he flushed from his cheeks all the way down to his navel and who knows how much further since his pants were still on. “…B-beg pardon?” He managed to stammer as well as he could, his position and stretched out throat making his voice that much lower, that much raspier. My he did have a knack for falling today didn’t he?

James: Oh my. Now this wasn't what he had expected- not that he really had expected anything as for the life of him, all he really had wanted was to watch the form move, he really was mesmerized and the words had escaped him without his consent, but he couldn't take them back, and for everything that was right in the world, he didn't want to take them back. He was most sincere when the words just came out by themselves and taking them back wasn't right and he wouldn't. He cringed faintly at the slight fall, actually stretching forward lightly to hold one of his hands out. The breaks were on, weren't they? He was pretty certain they were, and so it was safe to offer help up, that is if it was even accepted to start with.

"My mouth runs off on its own at times.. I wish I could apologize for saying what I just did, but I can't." he paused, offering the ghost of a smile as it seems his cool settled back easily enough, perhaps almost too easily, he wasn't used to these situations, but he adapted extremely quickly. "I believe my words were along the lines of my asking of anyone had ever mentioned that you are hauntingly beautiful. Most people cannot see their beauty." He lifts a shoulder gently, as if a true innocent in his ways. Which he actually was for the most part, "and taking back what I said would mean I had lied, and I haven't, so I won't." It made sense in his head if to no one else, in the end. And would you look at it, he had actually repeated his words.

Features canting again, brows drawing down gently, "You're not hurt, are you? I seem to bring you bad luck.." not a good thing for him as he was growing rather fond of his host- also not a good thing, really. "First the clinging, then the bathroom incident, and now.." shaking his head with a soft sigh, worries evident in the smooth, almost honey-soft voice.

Nicholas: “I…what? No! Absolutely not! Well…my eyes sometimes. Raphael said I looked like a sensual martyr of innocents bent to be sacrificed on the alter of carnal sin, but he was a poet and just trying to be flattering and I am in no way shape or form beautiful, haunting or otherwise. Auburn hair, green eyes, pale skin and freckles! Since when are freckles beautiful? I’m average. I’m comfortable with being average. I’m used to being average…and I have a headache…and my hairs all mussed up again.” He muttered darkly to himself more than anything else, reaching up to take the hand offered him by James with a sigh. The headache would go away on its own eventually. However James might brush his hair again. If that was the case the afternoon and short fall wasn’t a total loss. The only thing hurt on him was his pride, he really did have better balance than this.

“I’m not hurt. Really, I promise, and it’s not bad luck. Just a series of somewhat unfortunate events that result with me in less than optimal condition…and I didn’t mind the clinging overmuch.” That much slipped out without him meaning to and he flushed all the brighter for it. Shaking his head, he let it go, as much as James had said about lying and taking back and thinking about what he said made his head hurt more. He grasped James’ hand, ignoring the soothing warmth of his dry palm and pulled. That was a mistake on his part.

He’d forgotten to lock the wheels of James’ chair and the damned thing pulled forward instead of him going up. So James came to him and he swayed uneasily in another half crouch but managed to fall forward rather than back. Another misfortunate event and he felt like cursing some god or another when he became acutely aware that his face was pressed against the fabric of James’ robe. Even more alarming was what part of aforementioned robe his face was pressed to. He’d ended up half sprawled across James’ lap, torso cradled against his thighs and his forehead pressed to his employer’s lower abdomen. His nose was nestled neatly right on top of James’ lap. Damn. Damnit all to hell. If he could spontaneously combust for flushing so fast, he would.

James: The what who when now? "A.." he closed his mouth again and gave it another try, "...sensual martyr of innocents bent to be sacrificed on the altar of carnal sin...." he hummed briefly, as if tasting the words, giving Nick another quiet look before making mental notes to himself that it didn't seem so far from the truth, and really now he had to just as mentally berate himself for thinking that way. They were friends, when not employer and employee! "I'll be happy to brush your hair again in a moment." It was only right to offer, as he did appreciate the chance for such a simple thing, though perhaps aside the thought, he was also getting mildly hungry. Hadn't he been hungry after his meal the night before as he hadn't eaten much?

Oh his attention moved away from the vague hunger and back to his host when it seems his clinging was answered to and he flushed ever slightly, barely. It was out of his control really, he'd never realized he was a clinger as he had never shared a bed with anyone in his life until the night past. Clearing his thoughts, he closed his fingers on the hand that took his and had been ready to pull lightly and help with the standing when it seems it was time for yet another 'unfortunate event'. His breaks weren't on. Oh for crying out loud, would anything go right with his stay in this room? Really now, this wasn't right, the more the events unfolded, the more he was certain he was bad luck, no matter what he was being told.

He would have frozen usually so, but this was as comical as it wasn't, and he ended up lightly lifting one hand to brush away a few stray auburn tresses from his lap-visitor's face. "I think next time I'll double check the breaks before doing anything.." and he did, sighing mildly and now locking the breaks- not that it really would do them any good- and turned his gaze back down, "Really this feels more like bad luck than unfortunate events.. " he sighs the words softly, for the most part not seeming all that bothered by their.. predicament.

Nicholas: Nick did remain frozen, not wanting to move and swearing loudly and violently within his own mind. Such language as he desired to use was not meant for employer’s ears. He was going to die. That was it. This was worse than being a teenager ever had been. “…If I move a meteor is gong to hit me.” He reasoned out loud, voice muffled slightly by the fabric his face was pressed against. “That or the canopy will collapse and give me a concussion, or I’ll spontaneously combust, or my pants will burst into flame, or I’ll go bald.” All nonsensical events, but each seemed as likely as the other considering their current track record. “…bad luck is an understatement.”

Slowly, painfully slowly and flushing bright enough to match his hair for a few moments Nick pulled back and sat up at James’ feet, coughing delicately and trying for all the world not to look like a tomato. He was failing miserably. “I think fate is trying to tell us something.” He muttered as soon as he could bring himself to speak, eyes everywhere but on James as he put this out for consideration. “First my taking you to my room, the bath, the kiss, and now my face in your lap. Maybe we should just bed one another and get it over with so I can go five minuets around you without something going wrong.” The only reason he managed to speak this was because he was withdrawing to his primary defence mechanism and his voice was laden with sarcasm. He always became somewhat snide when events made him so drastically uncomfortable or distressed.

James: Lashes lowered a moment as he considered his options quietly, only half watching as he was pulled away from, as his host straightened and sat. "Somehow I don't believe any of those would really come to happen.." he eventually offers, calmly enough as fingers of his good hand brushed over his bandaged wrist, quietly cursing the damned thing because now he was starting to doubt how good of an idea all of this was. Perhaps it was the comments- not that he instantly reacted to them- but he did turn his gaze back to the form settled on the floor. If he was hurt by the words, if he was bothered by them, it was hidden well enough as he turned his gaze back to the horizon, gazing into nothing for a few moments.

"I would say perhaps it would be best I be taken back to my room, considering the events, as I could keep to my balcony while they work and it wouldn't really be a problem..." he pauses, voice calm enough, if not a little void of emotions though it was not cold. "But leaving now would only make matters worse, or so I tell myself..." breathing a slight he lifts one hand to brush it along his own tresses briefly, "as we would part on something akin to bad terms and it isn't too good of a thing if one wants to be able to work in a comfortable environment.. let alone would it be a good things for our friendship as is either.." It seems he made no comments as far as the bedding point was mentioned, seeing no need to it. After all, it would only put gas on the fire, wouldn't it?

Nicholas: “They wouldn’t…it just felt like the right thing to say at the time.” Nicholas sighed and remained where he was, not wanting to stand but not wanting to kneel, so he settled for turning and resting his back against James’s legs. If the man wanted him to move, he would, but right now he was too shaken by what he’d said and what had happened so far today to really do much other than stare blankly. This day had started out pleasant, and it still was, but he was being faced far too much with his possible growing attraction to James. He was the man’s friend. Nothing more. That’s all he needed. None of his relationships, if they could have been called that, had ever worked out and he did not want something like that hanging over his head when he was around James. The man was kind, painfully so, and he didn’t deserve that.

What he did deserve, however, was an apology. “…I’m sorry. When I’m…when I’m distressed or uncomfortably my primary defence mechanism is to be very snide. You didn’t do or say anything wrong. I’m just…flustered. Very, very flustered.” He offered with a soft, semi bitter chuckle. “Why don’t I fix us lunch inside? I think I’ve had enough of the heat for one afternoon, should I stay put I’ll end up with more freckles.”

James: Now why would he mind the presence against legs that couldn't move on their own but still could feel? If only very dully at the moment, but it had been worse when he still had been paralyzed from the waist down, he couldn't feel anything at all then. Why it had gotten better was beyond him in all sense and terms of the word but it didn't really matter. He held very little hope of ever actually being back to 'normal', however 'normal' was defined by as of lately. He shook his head lightly at the apology, finally returning his eyes to the other quietly, "It's alright. I more than likely would not have been able to act much differently had our roles been exchanged." Oh hell no, head first in someone's lap, after the rest that had happened?

"I think the idea of lunch sounds wonderful.." oh yes, he was feeling starved though he would not say so, and it seems so long ago since his stomach had actually bothered to say anything when he was hungry. The damn thing usually was always quiet, so he had to voice himself if hungry, otherwise.. well otherwise he kept on being hungry. "Nothing wrong with freckles though." ever calm, perhaps ever randomly selected words, but it was true. There really was nothing wrong with freckles and saw no problems with pointing that out.

Nicholas: “I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have sat there and acted so serene. How do you do it? Be so calm no matter what happens, it’s insane. I’m not above admitting that I’m somewhat jealous of you for that James. If I could be calm instead of flustered there would be a much shorter list of things that I said that I regret.” He murmured, tipping his head back against his guest’s knee and marvelling at how utterly comfortable this was. If he wasn’t careful he’d nod off again, and where would James be? Not with food, so he had to stay awake. “I’ve some meals in the fridge and if what I have isn’t to your liking I will be more than happy to act as your food ninja and acquire what it is that you would relish most from the cafeteria.”

Really now, food ninja? He really was trying to lighten the mood. You had to give him that much at the very least. “Mrr…normally I’d agree but if you have children loose with markers while you’re napping having freckles can be very messy. I can buy the twins all of the connect the dot books in the world and they still prefer my back. It’s hard to be professional at a dig site when you have My Little Ponies scribbled all over your skin. Or Transformers…or whatever cartoon it is that they decide they’re going to be fond of.”

James: "Maybe I'm a robot." he lifts a shoulder lightly, lips curled into something of a smile. He had heard that one so often- mainly from his ex-wife. "Prudence repeated it often enough when we were at parties and I'd merely nod curtly and barely smile. I never really had anything to say. Not even when kids would run around and smash cake on her dress.. it was purely accident, but she was so mad- mostly at me I'm afraid- because I merely settled down to the child's height and quietly told them to be more careful before sending them on their way.." one shoulder lifting gently once more. "I really don't know otherwise, it just seems ingrained, or innate at this point." he pauses and chuckles softly, "and I'm certain whatever you have here will do." Wouldn't want to run into Eric now, would we?

Features were canted briefly at the further mention of children, lashes lowering briefly over eyes that could have cried had he not been so calm, "I'm afraid.. I didn't spend enough time with Christine to warrant her having any time to find some of the few freckles I'm decorated with to use them as a connect the dot book." He quieted again, drawing inward a moment as his face altogether took on a quietly thoughtful, sad look. Sighing, he shook it off, preferring not to dwell on it too much, it still was too fresh, and Prudy had been around recently too. He really wished she could just leave him alone for once and for all.

Nicholas: “Prudence?” Nick blinked, twisting to look back up to James and quirk a brow. “Prudence? You married a woman named Prudence? Prudence Rochemont? That sounds like a nasty British dessert. Prudence. Really. Good ole’ Prudy….” His incredulous tone slowly deteriorated until he was laughing uproariously, clutching his sides and it had to be rude, he knew it was but really now. Prudence. He continued to laugh for a good long while, wheezing at one point actually, wiping at his eyes before shaking his head, still giggling somewhat. “I’m sorry, I really am it’s just…Prudence! Who names their daughter Prudence? I wouldn’t even name a dog I wasn’t fond of Prudence. That’s just asking a child to grow up with a less that pleasant demeanour…oh gods…”

Chuckling still he scrubbed at his face until he’d calmed enough to comment on the rest of what James had told him.

“You’re not a robot James. I’ve yet to hear any animatronics laugh as warmly as you do, or with skin so warm and soft, or with such a good sense of humour. I’m fairly certain you’re human. If you’re anything but, it’s certainly not a robot. A Kirin perhaps, but not a robot.” He stood slowly, ruffling out his hair and looking through the mass over his shoulder to James with a kind smile. “I think you did right. A dress can be cleaned and mended; a child once traumatized by a woman named Prudence may very well never recover. And I’d give most anything to be as calm as you; I suppose you and the students will have to take me as I am, hmm?”

He stepped around to unlock the wheels of James’ chair and wheel him inside, though he did pause to rest a hand against his friend’s shoulder to sooth him. He was slowly getting a grasp of what it was that caused the man so much anguish and could offer only as much as James would accept. This in mind he returned inside, closing the door to the balcony and settling James near a rough approximation of an eating area while he knelt at the tiny fridge. “Is there anything in particular that you cannot, no matter how starving you are, eat?”

James: "Actually, she starkly refused to take my surname and kept to hers. I could never pronounce it right until she actually paid someone to spend an hour with me to teach me how to pronounce it until I got it right." It still made him cringe to this day, but it had been a while, what was that name again? "It sounded something like..hrm... Herkenschplacker." it really tumbled out of his mouth, uncared for, unwanted, and foul tasting. Or if anything it tasted damned foul on his tongue in any case. He would have scraped clean if he could have. "And Prudy is right, I can't believe I ever called her that, it makes me cringe. But I was.. hrm. Not completely there.." he brushed his temple lightly "when we married, I was only nineteen." Another slight pause, "Christine came when I was twenty."

And yet another very brief pause, lips quirking just barely as he was amused by that one, "Divorced at twenty one." Though he blinked, flushing just mildly, now then so he wasn't a robot because his laugh was warm and so was his skin as well as soft? Now really. "A Kirin?" he had heard the word perhaps once or twice, but really didn't know much more than perhaps the average Joe as far as this was concerned. "Children shouldn't be beaten for their mistakes. They should be taught with a gentle hand that it isn't something to repeat." It was how he had worked with Christine, despite that to the adorable little girl he had been nothing more than one of mommy's friend as he only saw the girl at Christmas time, and that never alone.

Custody hadn't been his because despite his sanity being very strongly rooted, somehow the judge hadn't seen him fit to be a father. Pulling his mind back to the presence, he barely managed to catch the question and he only shook his head, trying to pull pieces together, "No allergies whatsoever... that I'm aware of in any case, and nothing I've eaten ever made me ill, so I should be alright."

Nicholas: “Herk…Hyuk…k…” Nicholas attempted several times with great vigilance and finally gave up, not even all his expertise with languages could help him with this one, and oh, there was the floor again. He was laughing, loud and tears streaming down his face at that name, that –name- that was so obnoxious and he gasped out between gales of laughter. “P-prudence….Herkenshplahahahha! I can’t say it! I can’t…it’s just so horrible! It’s a bastardization of language to the extent I don’t even know where the root is!” He couldn’t stop laughing; he was gripping his sides and rolling, actually rolling on the floor and gasping to breathe for mirth. “J-James! Say something not funny! P-please! I c-can’t stop laughing!” He only asked because it was getting hard to breathe and his sides were aching so much, so very, very much, he felt as though his lean muscles would split.

James: This certainly wasn't what he had expected, but it was beginning to be funny in its own way and pulled a chuckle out of him. The name really had been horrid, but the woman beautiful enough to bypass that for the time being. It had been something to watch people be introduced, the way their face twitched as they struggled not to laugh, really now. Shaking his head, when he was told to say something not funny, he blinked, mind drawing to an utter blank. He usually wasn't the funny kind, the name hadn't actually meant to be funny but it was inevitable in its own way. Frowning faintly, mind unable to grasp onto anything, he did the only thing he could think of: move over and help.

However, with his wrist still bandaged, it was near impossible for him to move the chair alone, and thus attempted the one thing he knew was pointless: he tried getting up. His good hand pressed against the arm rest as he gave himself a push only to realize one thing. He hadn't locked the damn breaks again, had he? Awh hell. His own fall settled in slow motion as the chair went backwards just a few paces and he sprawled forward, wrist cradled closely so as to keep it from being further hurt. This wasn't right, but one could call it payback. It was about time that the misadventures happened to him. One word however escaped him as he took a deep breath, turned his head to the side and sighed, "...fuck."

Nicholas: “N-not right now, we’re just friends.” Nicholas managed as he sat up to scoop an arm under James, supporting his torso against his own and rather than sit him back in his chair settled for holding him while the last of the giggles faded away. “I’m sorry…I’m so, very, very sorry but that name is just. No. If I think about it I’ll start laughing again and you’ll have to break your other wrist or something to get me to stop.” He bit his lips, trying not to laugh and settled for pressing his face against James’ shoulder until he was calm. Well, calmer than he was right now. He’d never had such a fit of hilarity before and he was sorry for James falling but he didn’t want to move. Coughing he went back in his mind and added the appropriate replies in the conversation as if he’d never had a laughing fit at all.

“I can’t believe that it only took you an hour to learn how to say that name. Rochemont is far better than that…that monstrosity of consonants and throat scraping. It might even make up for the first name.” But here he was on the verge of giggling so he shook his head and kept on speaking, lest he laugh more. “Prudy is actually better than Prudence, but still when one is young you look for whatever you can offer to make the other in the relationship happy, yes? I’m not that much older than you, I’m not even that old but…eh.” He gave up on trying to explain and shrugged. “So Christine was your child?” Past tense seemed to fit and he stuck with it. “She must have been lovely.”

Nicholas darted off in another direction in an attempt to keep James from thinking on it overmuch. “Yes, a Kirin. Sometimes called a Chinese unicorn, a peaceful creature that guides a society with it’s wisdom and grace, more often than not. You’re very graceful, wise, and serene so it fits. And I agree with you about children, it’s much how I deal with my own. They have a hard enough time without harsh discipline in their lives…I just offer affection, guidance, and teaching when I’m able. They seem to like that much enough.”

James: This was different than what he had expected. Really, he had figured that the moment things had calmed he would have been set back in his chair, but it wasn't and he found himself relaxing for it. He leaned back lightly and closed his eyes, listening quietly, "It's alright. And it took me only an hour because the teacher was strict, severe, and kept on threatening me. I learned and pronounced it right by the end of the hour." This was more comforting than it should have been and he only went with it, actually, letting himself nearly sink down to rest against his support. This was so very.. very nice. Too nice and no, no he didn't care. He nearly missed whatever else was told to him but he made himself pay attention, refusing to straighten however.

"Yes.. she was a beautiful little girl.. I'm afraid I only ever saw her at Christmas time however.." another shoulder lifted just barely, faintly before he merely let everything else settle to his mind and wash over him like a blanket of comfort that had never really been there before. It made him faintly dizzy, or perhaps it was his starving hunger that was telling him that he really needed to eat. When he opened his eyes, everything held a faint blurry edge. Frowning weakly, he lifted one hand to brush over his eyes, offering a brief, confused whine in the back of his throat when the blurriness didn't actually go away. Closing his eyes again, he breathed deeply, leaning back against his anchor before the world took on an unexpected turn and darkness took him.

No matter the way he was leaning, there was something of a lurch the moment he fainted- brief as it would be, it really had been a few days himself since he'd stomached anything 'proper'- and his body inevitably tried to dip backwards, though perhaps if he was lucky enough, he'd be held up well enough to not fall or crack his head open.

Nicholas: It was far too nice holding James, listening to him and simply basking in the comfort of simple human contact and company. Simply listening to that soothing voice and leaning against the supple firm form of the man, if you didn’t think about it you’d never know he was handicapped. How Nick hated that word, nothing held James back, not his legs, not his ex wife, not Eric. He moved forward with serenity that Nicholas craved, and that is why he admired the man so very much. That and he was handsome, almost beautiful in his own way. He had to drag his mind from those thoughts with a shake of his head and look back up. He really did hide away with his books too often, this was so much better than curling up with papers to grade or a poem to read.

This was warm and firm and cozy and James was whining…whining? He started and looked up to his friend, his guest, his employer and started when the man fell backward. The first thing that came to his mind to do was lunge forward and catch him, so that’s what he did, or rather, what he attempted to do. What happened, however, was him becoming hopelessly entangled, long limbs, hair, green eyes and all with James’ form for a few breathless moments.

He trembled at the immediacy of that form against his own; when both were half asleep it wasn’t so bad but right now? He was mortified. Though it did feel nice, that lean form entwined with his own, a strong, if paralyzed, thigh between his own slender legs, a steady heartbeat under his ear and the warmth and scent of James overpowering him for a few moments longer. Then he blinked, and woke himself up.

Nick managed to drag himself away and scoop James up, back now not complaining as badly, as he set him in his bed sitting up. James must not have been eating as much as he should, having suffered the same symptoms before Nicholas knew how to mend his friend. He pulled packets, cans, bottles and spices from the fridge and racks, pouring what he needed into two large bowels and heated them up, setting everything else back where it belonged. Meal finished, Pad Thai with beef and mushrooms, he set the bowels down on a collapsible table he slid next to the bed. Concerned beyond all else for James’ health he leaned forward, brushing his fingers through the younger man’s hair and murmuring softly, “James?”

James: One could wonder what would have happened to him if he'd stayed on his own in his apartment for the weekend, that or on the balcony to let the workers remodel as was required for him. Wouldn't he have wasted away to a point, starving and nearly out of his mind by the time someone came and bothered to check up on him? That thought could have made anyone worry, but he wasn't on his own now, he was somewhere that was relatively safe, or had been until his mind had decided that now was a good time to turn everything off because he was so hungry. One could only hope that the rest of the weekend went by far more smoothly than it had begun, and yet, there was nothing anyone could say to make sure it would happen that way.

There was a certain stillness to his form when he was moved from floor to bed, lashes fluttering briefly but not staying opened at all. Though a good sign in itself, it seemed he was in-between and would have stayed that way for a long enough time. He was disturbed however, pleasantly so this way, when those fingers found his hair, when his name was spoken so lightly. Shuddering softly, features scrunching up slightly, his lashes fluttered again and lifted this time, allowing hazy golden orbs to stare at nothing in particular until he found his focus. When that did so happen, his gaze turned slightly, still hazy but mostly confused, and he stared, lips parting for a word of two that obviously didn't come. Could he even recall what had happened?

"That..." well there was one word to his sentence, "hasn't happened.." a slight sigh as he lifts a hand and rubs his eyes gently again, "in a relatively long while.." but there had been some depressing matters on his mind, like the desire to go to the graveyard, and he just hadn't been able to bring himself to eat as he should have. "I'm sorry, what a troublesome guest.."

Nicholas: “You are no more a troublesome guest than I am an accident prone hose James.” Nicholas murmured softly, fingers straying from his friend’s hair to smooth down his cheek before retreating. “I can’t have you wasting away one me, so here. Eat. All of it young man, and I do mean all of it.” He slid the table tray so that James’ food was in front of him along with a fork, everything that might have been too large for one bite already sliced up, but not because James was incapable, no. Because Nick was eating his with chopsticks, as he usually did. He tucked the utensils in and slurped a mess of noodles and sauce down before motioning for James to do the same. “Eat, eat. Or I will be insulted and I’ll have to find a way to properly punish you for it.”

James: He hadn't wanted that hand to go. Hell he had been leaning lightly against it, offering a sigh and the ghost of a noise of complain when the hand retreated. Lowering his eyes, confused by his body's responses, by his unusual craving for the simple touch, the gentle company, that he merely pushed it as far away from the front of his mind as possible, letting his gaze drift and settle on the meal that was sitting in front of him. "There's.. just been a lot on my mind as of lately and I haven't been able to stomach a whole lot, I was feeling peckish when you found me in my room but my stomach never really rumbles when I'm hungry, so unless I state it myself, well it goes unanswered.."

Smiling lightly, he took the fork quietly, not really needing to be told twice before he found means to take a bite, being ever slow and careful about it as he tasted it, the taste ever new to him and he really only wanted to remember it. The first bite of a new meal was very important to him, usually so as was the first meeting with someone new, but that was aside the point. He paused between two quiet bites to rub his eyes once more, ever lightly, "thank you for the meal, it really is delicious.." and it was, it wasn't something he could really recall eating before, but he had a tendency for simple meals. Sandwiches could perhaps not be considered meals, but they were it for the most part. He wasn't in the habit of eating warm meals.

Nicholas: “Well let what’s on your mind go for the rest of today and tomorrow if it’s possible. It’s the weekend, and you don’t have anything to do, your room is being taken care of and you’re here with me. This dorm is, as of this moment, a strictly no worries zone. I have nothing to worry about, so you shouldn’t either. Unless Eric knocks, or good ole Prudy, then we can both panic as much as possible, yes?” Nicholas offered as he slurped down more of his food, not quite as ravenous as he had been the day before but still managing to streak one of his cheeks with sauce. This went unnoticed as he set his chopsticks down and tipped his head to the side, listening to the growing wind and eyes on the darkening sky. It might rain later, but he’d think, not worry, about that later.

“It’s protein, veggies, and carbohydrates. A little of what your body needs direly if you’re fainting from hunger. Really, if you’re feeling nibbly or hungry and you can’t find anything just swing on by, I always have food and have no qualms about fixing you a hot meal.” He shrugged off the compliment but the slight flush to his cheeks gave him away, but it didn’t matter. Nick noticed the scrubbing of James’ eyes and out of, well, there wasn’t a word for it but it felt like the right thing to do, he pulled out a handkerchief. His slender fingers darted forward and with all the gentleness he had in him he wiped James’ eyes and brow, lingering just a bare moment too long before withdrawing and putting the kerchief back.

James: "I'm not exactly worried about Prudy stopping by, after the stabbing incident, I think she was expected to spend some time in jail, I haven't really been updated on that and don't care much to be.." As long as it didn't concern that small summer house she'd claimed as her own, where all of Christine's things still were along with all the photos, but that was to come, so one could focus on something else. His eyes however trailed, stopping between two bites to stare quietly at the sauce settled along a cheek. Oh it was still within his control not to lean in and lick it off, and he didn't. It wasn't easy but he still managed. Instead, he had meant to reach out but stalled as it seems it was the other way around and Nick was moving towards him.

The almost tender, lingering wiping of his eyes and brow had his lashes flutter and the ghost of a sigh breathed. Why was this so nice? Why did he crave the too innocent touch? Letting the thought drift elsewhere, he then reached out lightly, letting a finger brush along the streak with intent to wipe it away lightly. And what to do with a sauce-y finger? Lick it clean of course, and he did before taking another healthy but still ever so well mannered bite of his meal. Features eventually turned towards the balcony once more, as if the wind- despite that it seemed it would rain or storm- was calming him. "Rain, maybe.. that would be nice." Not that he could go out anymore, not until his chair was better modified to fit that, wasn't it supposed to come in soon?

Though his thoughts went back to his meal as he found himself more than happy to finish it up, satisfied about it in so many ways. "I.. don't remember last I actually ate a warm meal, I'm afraid it goes back a few years." Ever since the school had been opened again, wasn't it? "And for reasons that are beyond me, I feel like a school boy again."

Nicholas: “Stabbing? Oh right…that unpleasantness. No more of that here either. I forbid it.” Nick murmured with all due seriousness as he settled back with his meal, every once and awhile trying to flick his hair back behind his ears to keep them from his noodles. He wasn’t so much hunched over his bowl as his hair simply moved of its own will. Even so he continued eating, stabbing his sticks into the noodly mess, twisting them and pressing a curl of the carbs and protein to his full, plush lips that were gleaming from the fat of the beef before aforementioned lips parted around the mess and pursed to suckle, slurping it all within. To ensure that no more sauce would escape his tongue would dart out to slide over both lips before retreating within.

Green eyes blinked, surprised when he felt that finger along the side of his face and he looked over to James curiously, amused by the sauce the wandering digit left with. He really was a messy eater sometimes, wasn’t he? Repressing a chuckle he shook his head and resumed the process of stab, swirl, slurp, and lick until his meal was half gone. “Rain would be nice; we’ve hit something of a dry spell the past few weeks I think.” He murmured, eyes darting over to the door to the balcony. James sounded as if he were fond of rain. Maybe he could…later. Meal first.

“I try to eat hot meals as often as possible. Noodles especially, I’m afraid I’m overly fond of noodle bowls and such other cuisine, be it Italian or Asian. I think it’s the appeal of slurping…” He shrugged and flushed slightly before downing another bite of the greasy mess. “A schoolboy? Because of the meal or the random mishaps we’ve had so far today?”

James: "I'd frankly rather forget it ever happened altogether.." he offers calmly, far from proud of the reaction he had had when it had all happened, but his mind had barely come back from whatever drug had been in his system, and so see the madwoman waving a knife that way had just made him crack. He'd tried desperately to cower and hide away from the world as a whole. It was shameful, so so so shameful and he really, really did want to forget it, and he damn well would. Eventually. "But some time away should do her some good, away from me altogether even better, when I think back on the reasons I married her I feel..." he paused in soft uncertainty, his following words softly quiet and slow, "very... foolish."

Once his bowl was empty, obviously far more hungry than he had first imagined, he even went as far as running a finger along the inside to gather any remains, to lick it off quietly as he digested everything that surrounded him. "We're overdue for some rain, yes. I don't think most of the students would say the same, but the place can't be luscious if it doesn't rain now and then, all this grass, these plants.. they need water too." And he loved nature as much as he loved the rain, so it was only right. It was easy to drift from one subject to another it seemed and he managed well enough. "Since I've bought the school and the surrounding lands, there's just been so much to see to that warm meals just took too long to ingest than cold ones."

So if anything, he still managed to eat right, just not warm meals. "Yes, a school boy.. I wasn't overly popular in school, so spending time with school mates and doing anything at all with them is relatively foreign, I'm afraid I spent more time running back and forth helping the teachers with their stuff instead. But the meal and mishaps help in the feeling."

Nicholas: “I’ll not discourage that. And no thinking back, no complex thought and no foolishness. Well, maybe foolishness, but the fun sorts rather than thinking that you’re a fool. You’re too smart to be a fool.” He refrained from commenting on James being too attractive to be a fool because that was not what his friend needed to hear. He shrugged it off as he took his empty bowl and that of James to his sink, rinsed them out, and set them to dry. Cooking chores seen to he padded back over to the bed and sat cross legged next to James, waiting for it to rain and simply enjoying being around the man. Despite everything that had happened so far he was rendered mostly calm by James’ serene aura. “Well whenever you have at least five minuets to wait for a meal just give my door a knock, this is what I have most of the time unless I’m researching. Then, who knows?”

He shifted on the bed until his back was pressed against the headboard and he was settled comfortably next to James. “How could you have not been popular? You’re smart, charming, and if the poll by the students stuck up in the hallway is anything to go by, handsome. One would think you would have scores of friends in your youth. But being busy with such endeavors would make it difficult to establish any lasting friendships. I spent a grand majority of my school years studying and reading.” A feat within itself when he was living at home with all the bodies and noise, but he’d managed well enough.

“I’m not much different now with research, though Luk is a good friend of mine and I have the kids…and you.” He shrugged and offered a somewhat lopsided smile. “So I guess the schoolboy feeling is mutual. With the kids or Luk I’m usually digging and working over texts or trying to keep the kids from falling in pits or being crushed. I should be grey by the time I hit thirty.”

James: "Isn't being too smart a sure sign that one is a fool?" he allowed his lips to quirk lightly, faintly and merely leaned back lightly, still in part cradling his wrapped wrist to himself. The pain from it was dulled, but that didn't mean something else could happen. He really didn't want a repeat of the bars. That had been both painful and shameful. At least as far as he was concerned. Just thinking about it made him hiss faintly and pull his wrist closer to himself, as if just leaving it out there would mean something could just come and slice it away. And slicing away one of his hands really, just really wasn't a good thing for anyone. Blinking as the direction his thoughts were taking, he shakes his head softly and manages the ghost of a smile.

"I appreciate the offer." Another half-smile finding his lips as he found himself relaxing gently against the headboard, more than comfortable with the company as that really was a first. He cared plenty for all of his staff, for his students, but short of Drake (and it had been forever since he had really stopped to speak with the man) there really was no one he could consider himself 'close' to. Well, other than Olivia, but that was another story altogether. "I don't think I was quite as stunning before.." he rolls his eyes lightly, "and I was very... hrm... introverted and extremely timid, unless I was with a teacher, and then, well then everything just was better." He paused, actually wondering about something, "I have a photo in my wallet."

How so very, very random. "Of my third year here at this school before it was shut down." He didn't know why he had brought it up, maybe this whole talk of 'schoolboy' feeling. it very well could be. "I don't know about the grey-thing, I'm afraid I'll be white if Prudence pulls another stunt like her last one. Otherwise... well I don't know. My father's life was that of a very stressed, very filled life, but even long past fifty he still had all his color."

Nicholas: “Maybe. I can’t remember who wrote that at the moment but that might be true.” Nicholas shrugged and leaned over ever so slightly until he was resting just against James’ shoulder, a little tired now that he was full of food and relaxed. The reaction concerning the broken wrist made him quirk a brow, he reached out and pulled that hand to his own chest and smoothed his fingers over the bandage. When he found nothing wrong he blinked and settled for massaging James’ palm and digits carefully. “Does it hurt you?” He murmured, still smoothing his hands over that palm and wrist, looking over through his mussed hair at James, green eyes all soft concern. Breaking one’s wrist was, to be put bluntly, a bitch. It hurt so horribly and was so inconvenient.

“It’s an offer I’m happy to make. I think you’re one of the few people I won’t mind cooking for or spending time with. I’m not pressured, you’re actually quite soothing to be around, when I’m not accidentally kissing you or falling face first into your lap…” He flushed and ducked his head to hide behind his hair before he felt the flush lessen just slightly. “Stunning? Yes…Yes I think you can be called stunning…” He reached over to where he’d left James’ wallet the day before and offered it back, though he still held the other’s wrist. He didn’t want him uncomfortable while he was visiting.

“I think…I think I have a photo that Eric took, oddly enough…here. I don’t know why I kept it, but I guess I just didn’t care enough to throw it away…” He pulled the photo from the drawer of his bedside table and handed it over. It was him standing shirtless and somewhat sweaty, caught unaware as he really had no idea that he was being photographed. His eyes were behind him, he was facing away from the camera enough for his torso to be twisted away though his face was tipped back over his shoulder. His hair was long, loose and wild, and his lips parted in a soft, quirk of a smile.

James: "It's... dulled pain, but my mind just keeps going back on how it happened and it makes it feel as if I could just trip over myself somehow and it would happen all over again. The chair wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the wrist.." he sighed softly, shivering just lightly when that very wrist was taken, when it was held and, for shame his hair wasn't long enough to hide behind, he flushed ever softly, barely visibly. The touch again was more than welcome, it was so different from what he was used to, what little he had ever known as was. He let it just be and relaxed under it as it did take his mind away from everything else, from anything else. From the hell that would await him morning and the resumed sessions with Eric once his wrist was healed.

Soothing. That was new. That reminded him- wait.. hadn't there been mention that he wasn't supposed to think back on things that had happened? It was difficult not to, it seemed to be all his life was filled with. Things that had happened. With Prudence, with that one student he swore he didn't know how he'd gotten in and every time he met up with him it always was 'teach' this and 'teach' that instead of James or whathaveyou. What, did he look like he was teaching any classes? Christ. Shaking his head, pulling his mind firmly into the now and very now as he realized he had been given back his wallet. "Mmm..." lashes fluttering briefly, it was easy to open the thing and would-be rummage through to find what he was looking for.

"Well...if anything there's something good about him?" features gazing quietly at the photo, a soft hum escaping him, "he has talent, and you're a natural." Now his photo wasn't any better, really. Though it was simple, the year's class photo, though he had the whole class somewhere, these were the singles, where every student was made to stand in front of the blooming cherry blossom in their uniform. Just the bare touch of a breeze ruffling locks that were faintly shorter then than they were now, of a thinner but still well fit form that was, or so it almost seemed, nearly as tall then as he was now.

Nicholas: “Mmm…” Was Nicholas’ oh so eloquent reply as he continued to stroke and massage those fingers, eventually settling it down in his own lap though it was cupped between his hands and resting on a thigh rather than somewhere else that might be unwelcome. “I’ll heat up a pad for your wrist before we go to bed.” We rather than you, because he had no intention of sleeping on the floor with his back as it was and James…James seemed to need the contact, or rather contact in general, no matter how simple or innocent. On his part Nick had no trouble whatsoever with offering any and all affection to his friend…to a point. They were friends. That laid out comfortable boundaries for the both of them.

“He always had a camera…despite what one might think of him he takes photography very seriously…this was shortly after I had gotten out of the chair, I think Saa had thrown something at me to get my attention…natural? I didn’t know he was taking a picture and I’m not photogenic. I don’t care what you say. You however…are very handsome. Look at this teen.” He tapped James’ photo with a soft smile. “You defiantly look like something not of this world when standing in front of a sakura tree. Ethereal.” A variant on what James had called him before, he knew, but he didn’t care.

James: "Much appreciated.." quietly offered as it seemed he would have been fine just staying there forever, doing nothing, comforted by the simple gesture of a hand so close to his own. The simple fact of a shoulder against his own just as well. There really had never been a time in his life when any of this had been within his reach, and now that he had it, he knew he would begin to crave it, and desperately so. His lashes lowered once more, lips curving lightly, "you are ever a natural and I'll repeat it until you see it my way. And I'm not handsome, I was thin, I was -bloody tall- for my age and in group photos I had more than a head over the rest of my classmates." Which had been so very very bothersome. Not that he had cared much about it.

He fingered his photo a moment more before gently easing it completely free of his wallet and holding it out, "You keep it." he had the group photo, it was enough right? He didn't know why he kept that one in with him, it wasn't as if he was needing any reminders as to the way he had looked as a scrawny kid. Though his attention was wavering again, this time it moved towards the balcony door once more when he picked up the plitter patter of the rain against the walls that surrounded them. "It's raining..." murmured softly, almost as blissfully as it was brokenly. He missed the rain so very much, this just wasn't fair anymore. The damned chair wasn't fair to him, it had taken away everything from him. He wanted his life back, he wanted it back now.

The thought made him tense and merely shake his head sadly, knowing he eventually really had to accept the chair as part of his life, as a very permanent part of his life.

Nicholas: “Fine, I concede, there’s no point in arguing with you.” Nicholas wasn’t that stubborn; he caved easily to James’ insistence but continued to think within his own mind that he wasn’t at all a natural. However he let it be, content to lean a little further over until he was inevitably resting his head against the hollow of James’ shoulder, the man was still taller than him. The bandaged wrist was still cradled tenderly within his palms, every once and awhile his fingers would curl inwards to smooth over his friend’s palms. This was…nice. It was beyond nice. It was soothing and calm and warm and everything he needed as he settled into life in a new country. He considered himself lucky but had to murmur something. “Thin and tall…you were, are, svelte. Sleek…” The next only slipped out because he was once again half asleep. “…sensual.”

He blinked lightly at the photo presented to him and accepted it with good grace and a soft murmured “thank you.” He knew now it would immediately find it’s way into his own wallet, but for now he was curled up and comfortable. The soft roll of rain slowly edging it’s way over the school woke him somewhat and he looked out and then up to James. Rain…rain. He slipped up and pulled James with him, setting him in the chair and leaving him at the entrance as he pulled all of the furniture he had on the balcony inside and then rolled up the curtains and rolled back his canopy.

Then all he had to do was pull James out onto the balcony with him. There, they were in the rain. Nicholas tipped his face up, eyes closed as his hair was soaked and twined around his throat and chest, entire body arched ever slightly as he was leaning against the balustrade.

James: It was easy to figure out that it seemed his host had a tendency for speaking words closer to his heart, or so James told himself, perhaps wanting to believe that someone could think him sensual or anything else that had escaped those half-asleep lips. How he wanted to believe what they said, and he now realized that he wouldn't have minded having those lips again, briefly, innocently, to know what it truly felt like. Prudence hadn't cared for public display of affections.. hell, for display of affections at all, private or public. Short of when she called him to her room. Man, what a puppy he'd been. Why was he haunted by the damned thoughts anyway? Frowning ever softly, he tried to lock everything away, wanting to purely focus on the now, on the warmth against him.

He nearly flinched when he was moved, when it seemed as if they were heading for a moment in the rain. "You really should warn when you move me around, I swear one of these days you'll do this while I'm focused on something else, I'll jerk in surprise and who knows what I'd hit." It was true, hadn't it actually happened once or twice with Eric? for shame he hadn't broken his nose, he really wished he had. He really had to stop letting his mind drift inward this way, as he jerked just faintly when he found himself out in the rain, without his chair, on legs that couldn't really support him but were still doing some of the work. Sighing blissfully, he closed his eyes, letting the rain soak him through to the bone. He wanted nothing else.

Well nothing else than maybe touch that skin again. Why couldn't the man see how perfect (in his own mind he was really) he was? Drawing his eyes away from the hair he wanted to touch, the skin he found his lips wanted to taste (for crying out loud, they barely knew one another, what was wrong with him?), he sighed softly and tipped his head back to the sky, allowing the rain to wash everything away from him, "you do realize that beyond this I don't have anything else to wear.." amused as it was when he found he couldn't keep his eyes away.

Nicholas: “If I warn you every time it won’t be a surprise now, would it?” He quipped right back as he shifted James so the taller man was held against his own slick body, that thin cloth sticking to both of their forms and leaving oh so little to the imagination but he would not look down. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t right, but he did allow himself to enjoy the sensation of James’ hard, lean form pressed against his own. Nicholas had no idea whatsoever why he was so attracted to James, but he knew it was more than his face and body. It was his mind, his kindness, and right now it was in the innocent crush area, the sort people sometimes felt about their friends when they were first getting to know one another.

He could work with that until they were simply friends. No need for this to grow. Content he let his head tilt all the way back, arching his throat for no other purpose than to feel the water streak down his skin in thick drops. He’d always enjoyed the sensation of water trailing over his skin. It was always so…sensual. Sultry, erotic in its own way. It was one of the few sensations like this he could bear. Purring he opened his lips to taste the rain on his tongue, murmuring something mindless in one language or another, it didn’t matter.

When he tipped his head forward again to look James in the eye his hair slipped forward in a sleek mass, obscuring one eye and he didn’t care enough to push it out of the way. He was enjoying the rain. “I have plenty that you could wear James, that was just the first thing I found that fit you. We’ll be fine.” That seemed to sum up the entire sensation of this weekend. No matter what happened, they’d be fine. Why he felt that way he didn’t know. It just fit, and he wasn’t one to question things that just fit.

James: "And are you in the habit of surprising people? What if I accidentally hit you in the face and break your nose?" Now now, this is something he wanted for Eric and so out of his mind it went. He shivered lightly- blaming it on the rain- when he found himself pressed ever close to that form. One would have been certain that had this been Japanese based animation, he would have been suffering from one massive nosebleed. But they weren't and he wasn't. Which was a good thing. Needing to clear his mind, once again it seems, he canted his head back, letting the rain resume its course along those well-set features. It felt so good; better than being in the rain alone, but this he blamed on the form pressed against his.

When that throat was arched however, it really became beyond him, something that was past whatever control he had. And he was so close, so close! Lashes lowering, he found his features doing much the same without his consent, lips moving to press ever tenderly, warmly to a throat, if only for a taste, for the briefest swipe of his tongue before his mind latched back to the present and he stiffened briefly and slowly straightened, knowing better than to jerk away, and flushed a deep, near crimson that had his eyes turning to look elsewhere for a few moments. He barely was able to bring himself to respond to those words, knowing somehow that yes, they would be fine, if he could bring himself to behave. That would be along the lines of 'easier said than done', and he knew it.

Nicholas: “Normally? Not at all. And you won’t hit me in the face because I have excellent reflexes. I grew up in a large family.” He shrugged as well he could with his arms around the younger man, James really did look younger with the rain streaming down his face. He seemed so much more relaxed, not stressed at all. It made Nicholas smile even as he moved, simply going where the rain dictated for him to be. This was beyond perfect, it was soothing, refreshing, relaxing. Nicholas always moved with the elements when he was like this, without his glasses, without his worries, this was him at his least restrained. Now he had no inhibitions. Whether that would be good or bad depended entirely on who he was with and part of him was concerned about James.

That concern raised a red flag when he felt something press to his throat, the swipe of a tongue that he couldn’t have imagined. He wouldn’t have wanted to imagine it, and instead of immediately reacting Nicholas acted with the elements and groaned. Just for a moment, he savored the sensation before reacting as he really should. He let his body tense and he looked back up to James, one brow quirked. That’s all. It was all he could pull himself to do, though he did shift his grip to raise his fingers to James’ chin and tilt his head back in his direction so that his quirked brow could be seen.

James: "I'm glad, I knew a few too many people with very lousy reflexes and who knows what could happen then." Talking was good, but talking hadn't kept him from tasting the skin of that throat, tasting the rain, tasting the- he bit back a whimper as he realized which way his mind was going and closed his eyes tightly, wanting to focus on something else than the returning desire to taste more of that skin. It was his hormones, that had to be it. His hormones had never gotten the best of him when he'd been a teenager and they were doing so now, this was cruel if anyone ever actually considered it cruel in an case. He did and it was good enough. Even when his chin was touched and tilted, he turned his gaze away, murmuring nothing in particular, flushing mildly.

After a few minutes more, he did find his voice and offered in a tone was that just barely audible above the rain, "I'm afraid that was beyond my control... but perhaps also uncalled for, I-..." trailing off, feeling foolish for the act now, though he really had absolutely no control over it. There was a pull, something pulling at him so completely, so utterly, and the other end of that string seemed rather firmly attached to his host. Really now, there never had been anyone who could have pulled that want from him, it was insane. Maybe Drake could explain it- no, no that wasn't good, he couldn't do that. Sighing softly, he merely closed his eyes again, canting his head back gently towards the rain anew, wanting to be cleansed utterly.

Nicholas: “…” Nicholas didn’t offer much of anything by way of a reply since he was waiting for one from James; he simply stood in the rain and waited. He didn’t have to wait long, even if he wanted those eyes on him and he had to lean closer still so he could hear James. That didn’t help much at all. So close, enough to be sharing James’ breath, to hear him over the rain. Beyond his control? How so? It didn’t make much sense and all he could offer was a somewhat puzzled expression and a slight nod of his head at the uncalled for comment, but then James wasn’t talking anymore and he was looking in a different direction. Without anything else to do really his fingers slipped from chin to cheek and jaw to James’ hair, smoothing through those locks with something akin to tactile curiosity.

What to do? James was clamming up and he wanted the man to relax…so he did the one thing he could think of that might be appropriate. When James tipped his head back the fingers in his hair shifted his head back further still, gently though. He’d never force his friend into anything. When there was room enough Nicholas pressed his own lips to the skin just along James’ pulse, feeling the slick warmth and the thrum against his lips. It wasn’t quite fair, he was lingering longer than James had and he still had to lick, but he would…eventually. He was enjoying this for the moment, the skin against his lips, the warmth of James a stark contrast to the cool rain all around them.

James: What else had he been supposed to say? What else could he have uttered to make things better? Certainly nothing could make this better, and in some way he would perhaps have asked to go back inside but he couldn't. The rain was pulling at him, it was trying to ease fears and confusion away and it was slowly doing its work. The fingers along his hair helped greatly just as well but he didn't really want to put too much thought into that. When he felt the presence draw closer, he found that he could only relax even more, lashes parting just barely from his eyes before they fell shut again. Those lips. They made him start lightly, a soft intake of air that escaped him as a whimpered moan. This was unfair, but he deserved it, payback maybe, that sounded fair.

His bandaged wrist was the one that moved first, fingers inevitably finding a side though they only pressed ever lightly, as if afraid that any more pressure would be bad, that it would lead to even more awkward things and he didn't want that. He merely wanted the soft, gentle, comforting touch that he could have, while he could. But the touch against his throat, that was a first for him, as there were so many things that would eventually be discovered, and those fingers along a side where there for the sake of having an anchor. He had to have fallen asleep on the bed, listening to the plitter patter of the rain against the walls. Yes, that had to be it.

Nicholas: Nicholas wanted to press closer, so his body did and he knew this wouldn’t end well if he let it go on for too long. Despite himself he moved, a leg slipping further forward than it should and between those paralyzed thighs, an echo of their earlier sprawl when James had fainted. It was only to press their torsos closer, just that and no more. But he did have more, his hands holding James up, holding him close as his lips parted and his tongue slid out across his skin, feeling his warmth, feeling the water beaded there, feeling that smooth silk against his flesh. It was divine. Part of him craved more but he would not, could not let that happen. Blame it on the rain or something like that, he pressed a final farewell caress to James’ throat and pulled back.

He straightened, holding his friend and companion and tipped that face back to him so he could rest his forehead against the younger man’s, letting him calm, letting him breathe before he smiled gently, kindly. He understood. There was no need for James to be stressed. He continued to slide his fingers through James’ hair, back in the comfortable niche of being a friend and perhaps a guide as it was ever so slowly dawning that James didn’t have much experience in friendship and affection. He’d have to fix that. “…and now, James, we are even.”

James: There was something to do that whole scene, something that made him crave even more than he already had been and there was something near terrifying to that idea. It was hardly as if he could really focus on that however as his very physical, very present and warm anchor was moving, drawing closer and he knew that if his control hadn't been so strong on his own bodily reactions, he would have been scared, would have tried hiding and who knew what else. Memories of times when his body had betrayed him were ever frightening in their own ways and he cared little for them. Again his mind was drawn away from it as those lips moved, parted and that tongue, oh heaven's high that tongue and his control slipped just barely, hardly enough for it to crack.

His own lips parted, another whimpered note escaping him as fingers curled and held for the sake that it seemed almost as if this was the only way to survive. He certainly didn't struggle against the tipping, eyes closed for a few moments as he struggled to right his breathing, his minor loss of control having brought brief tears to the corner of his eyes, but with the rain, who could see those? Air finally coming in as regularly as it could into his lungs, he allowed his eyes to open, confused depths settled on his host, his friend as that's what they were, right? The fingers through his hair helped him immensely, but when those words were spoken, it was near inevitable that he choked softly on a noise that could have been either more tears or a whimper, and he dipped his head again.

Despite the height difference and the fingers in his hair, he made to slip from the forehead-to-forehead settlement to drop his head ever lightly against a shoulder, a soft shudder running through him. It had feel so damned right, so damned perfect, why was it so frightening?

Nicholas: Nicholas waited until James was calm…well, calmer than he had been before as he wasn’t going to be fully calm anytime soon if his reaction was anything to go by. He’d never had expected such a pained note to pull from his employer’s lips from something as simple as a lick, and now he seemed terrified. There might be something to this, but he’d let it be. If James wanted to tell him, he would. For now he settled for smoothing his fingers through James’ hair and cradling him against his shoulder. “…shh…” He murmured mindless, pointless comforts in French and Italian as nothing productive in English came to mind. Standing in the rain any longer with the way there were dressed would have them both with fevers come tomorrow.

“James…I’m going to take us back inside now, alright?” He whispered into the ear for the head on his shoulder and did just that, bypassing the chair entirely and instead setting James down on the tile next to the door to the balcony. They were both soaked, no need to get his chair wet. A quick trip to the bathroom had fluffy towels in his hands and he wiped down James first and foremost, peeling the robe off his body and setting it on a hook to dry. In the meantime he slipped a large terrycloth bathrobe around the younger man and went in search of something for both of them to wear. Ah, here. He dried himself off and slipped into a deep green yukata and sadly could only find a linen wrap for James.

His guest could remain in the bathrobe for now and he set the linen aside as he padded over to kneel next to James, smoothing a hand along the side of his face and into his hair. “James? Are you going to be alright, or would you like me to make us something hot to drink?”

James: It wasn't right. He shouldn't have been this weak, this... this... he had no term for it but it wasn't right, it wasn't fair. Then again, nothing in the world was fair, and this he was reminded of every time he woke up in the morning, unable to roll over or do any of those things he so wanted to do anymore. The cradling seemed to help, though he felt ever childish for being unable to react to things as he should have. He was, after all, a grown man, and grown men should never act that way, or so Prudence had told him times and times again. She hadn't wanted him anywhere near during her pregnancy either, despite that she was always surrounded by so many others. James nearly leaned against the cradling, the murmurs that soothed every single ruffled feather.

All there was offered was the ghost of a nod to being told they were going back inside, a murmured noise of acquiescence escaping those soft lips. He didn't struggle at the drying, actually sitting as straight as he could so that he would not be a problem to work with. Once the bathrobe was over his shoulders, he hugged it lightly to himself, feeling his lashes lower despite his best wishes. He usually didn't need to sleep this much, maybe it was the surroundings, maybe it was something else but he was once more relaxed enough that he was calm and at peace. When he was joined again however, that hand along his face, into his hair- he leaned clearly into the touch- he sighed and made himself focus, if only somewhat. And with his focus returned, he held up the very wetly bandaged wrist.

That would need to be seen to, "I'll be alright, thank you.." managing the ghost of a smile before his gaze turned lightly towards the balcony, "I'm... I apologize... for my reaction.." ever soft his voice again, but he was talking nevertheless. "Prudence cared very little for my touch, and she cared even less about touching me, even with a ten feet pole... I'm... unused to touch in most its forms..." his words dying out the more he spoke. The story of his first calling into the bedroom nearly escaped him but he thought better and hushed up, merely settling on being.

Nicholas: Smiling now that he knew James was alright he slipped away to retrieve a new stiff bandage and very delicately unwrapped his broken wrist, setting the sodden bandage aside before re-wrapping it in a fresh bandage. That seen to he set the sodden one aside and slipped back next to James to curl his arms around him, tucking his chin against his forehead with a soft sigh, holding his friend. He would be more than content to remain where they were since James didn’t need anything hot to drink and they were both now warm and dry.

It seemed like they were both spending most of their time in a perpetual sense of half awareness, constantly almost dozing. Not that he minded in the least, it meant they were relaxed. “It’s alright.” Was all he offered, stroking his fingers through James’ hair. They were warm, they were relaxed and comfortable and that woman and her horrible name need not be thought of.

James: "During her first pregnancy.." there was a keyword there, first. During the second she had been flaunting it in his face every day, "she didn't even want me in her sight despite that she was constantly surrounded by others. So I went to the summer house here, just a distance from the school. It's what made me realize that I could do something with myself." He paused, closing his eyes utterly and relaxing against the presence at his side. Why wasn't he completely freaked out? Why was it so comfortable and why did he merely want to curl right there and he could have died there. It wouldn't have made any difference. Hell, if he'd been in those arms after his throat had been slit, he would have been fine not surviving. Really now.

It was the 'why' of it all that puzzled him. Was it because it was the first time he ever was offered this kind of affection that he found himself craving it more and more, or was it because of the person offering the affection? He couldn't bring himself to care which reason it was, as all that mattered at the moment. However, in his relaxation something else came back to mind. "...we're even, is what you said, right?" he murmured the words, so softly they perhaps could have been unheard. "For what happened on the balcony, in any case.. but doesn't that mean I owe you a kiss?" Oh he was alright, it seemed. Just teasing softly at that point, it wasn't something he 'counted' but for some reasons, it was on his mind. No matter that it had been accidental.

Nicholas: “First?” Nicholas murmured, tipping the head to the side and resting it on top of James’ head. Many a time he’d embraced friends and relatives, his children often, but this felt different for reasons he couldn’t and didn’t want to think about. He was happy just to hold James, breathe, and feel. The warmth against his chest and side, that hair under his chin and on his cheek, that voice slowly murmuring it’s way through his mind and causing his still glasses free eyes to slip half closed. This was nice, it was beyond nice. He would be more than happy to deal with the rush and stress of work for every day if he could have this on the weekend…and maybe more. More would be nice, but they were friends. Friends didn’t want more than this.

“Mmmhm…we’re even.” He replied softly without really thinking, content to stay right there and not say another word until the weekend was over. “…kiss? Whodewhatdewhodewho?” He started slightly without moving, blinking furiously and looking back down to James with utter confusion on his face, causing his eyes to dilate and pale slightly to a cool jade green. “That, t-that wasn’t a kiss! It was an accidental collision of faces and lips and…well…damn. That’s a kiss. I guess you do then.” Blinking and gradually relaxing, certain that James wouldn’t, he was only teasing right? …Right?

James: "When I married her... I did love her, to death, I really did... it's after the divorce that I started realizing that I had been desperate for acceptance from someone, anyone, but trailing off subject.. she had an affair during the whole of the time we were married, she only accepted my proposal because of the money.." a shoulder lifted softly though he remained gently close, "Barely a year after Christine's birth, she was pregnant with someone else's child, and she constantly sought to find me out, to rub it in my face. No matter where I was. It's as if she had nothing better to do." His voice, though soft, was ever clear, he didn't care about that anymore, it was all in the past. At least he didn't care about that part of his relationship with the woman.

Why this reaction really was amusing, "Yes, kiss, and yes, yes it was a kiss, not just, well it was an accident that turned into something else, but fine, fine." He chuckled softly, letting it go, for now. There were plenty of times when he could get even, right? Childish as it was to want to get even for a kiss, but hadn't he mentioned not long ago that he felt like a school boy all over again? It was a good thing and nothing could ruin this. Well nothing short of Eric barging in, and he ever so hoped that something of the sort wouldn't happen. Oh hell no. His weekends spent this way were so damned nicer an idea than spending them who knew doing what- more than likely hiding from someone- but no one needed to know that. So yes, this was good enough.

Nicholas: “Then she was a lucky woman that wasted the opportunity for greed and spite. I hate people like that. Can I call her a scullery yeast infected footlicker next time I see her? She’s earned far worse but I think that one suits her just fine. God bless William Shakespeare for his inventive insults.” Shifting away ever so slightly, just to give James a little more room and to settle the comfortable weight of him against his shoulder properly, James’ head settled in the hollow of his lean shoulder, a body’s natural pillow. That and the nook of neck and shoulder, Nicholas swore by these places and his children followed his example to a T. “I think I’ll even say it with a cockney accent. Hell, I’d even dress up for it. Then I’d have a sign with the mentioned insult and hang it about her neck. I think that’d be enough of a riposte for her mind, don’t you?”

Nicholas tipped his head to the side, looking at James with all due seriousness before sighing. “You’re going to keep it for later, aren’t you? I’m going to be nervous outside my mind now. I could be anywhere, minding my own business and then you streak by, plant one on me, and dash away. It’s hardly fair and I don’t think I could sleep tonight for the stress.” Now that was a blatant lie, he was half asleep as it was but he needed to say something. “Are you certain you don’t want to collect on the debt now? I can’t have you coming in while I’m lecturing you know. What would the boys think?”

James: A whatnow? And he'd been so calm too! The insult only made him laugh briefly, lifting one hand to cover his mouth, more out of habit than anything else at this point. Why couldn't he think of things like this by himself? "That would be wonderful!" he chuckled lightly once more when he had really calmed down, unable to stop himself from nuzzling the soft spot where he was settled, so comfortable, so warm so... this was perfect, really, and of all the odd things that came to mind, it was something that seemed almost fitting. "I don't know if you'd agree, but short of the few incidents, this is really... mm, relaxing... I could get used to this every now and then, wouldn't it be nice?" It wasn't as if he was making plans, but asking was a good way to start.

"I'm not keeping anything for later!" he sounded innocent for the most part, but there was a near twinkle in those golden orbs that spoke of everything but innocent. "And I could hardly dash away! Really now, you should trust me if only a little." Though he quieted, thinking indeed, what would the students think? Oh this was bad news as his lips quirked into the semblance of a grin and he purred just lightly, "The boys would think that I've finally managed to make progress when it comes to picking someone to have a relationship with and would more than likely give me the go ahead." And he was ever serious saying those words, too, it was amazing.

Nicholas: “That’s the idea! She’d be so confounded to understand what had happened to her that she’d forget entirely about the sign on her neck but still understand enough to know she’d be insulted. That, my friend, is why I enjoy Elizabethan theatre so very, very much. It’s very inventive. I think I’ll have the boys do an assignment on something similar. Invent one of the most creative and confounding insults they can, and then use them in my class. It’ll be amusing beyond all else.” He chuckled, returning that nuzzle without even thinking whatsoever. “Mmm? You know, I wouldn’t mind it at all. It’s a nice respite from the busy week…we can spend next weekend in your suite, how does that sound? There will be less falling down on my part and much less clutter.”

“Then you do intend to collect now?” Teasing back lightly, returning what was said in a verbal parry and a slight wiggle of his brow, inane in most places but he just wanted to make James laugh again. How he enjoyed hearing him laugh. “Oh yes you could, especially with me behind you too flabbergasted to chase you down and exact proper vengeance. Speed is relative James.” And he was laughing himself, at himself but he didn’t care. What he heard next had him flushing and shaking his head. “Oh I do trust you James, really I do. I swear.” A slender finger poked James in the side lightly and he shook his head to laugh some more, biting his lip to prevent himself from too much laughter. “So the boys would approve? That solves everything right there if the boys approve.”

James: "Goodness you're precious. This is marvellous, but I don't think we'll see her any time soon. Feel free to do whatever you want to her if we do, however." This was so good, it was utterly calming, soothing beyond all possibilities, and the fact that it seems they would have the upcoming weekend together made it even better. "By then my room will be remodelled, and I had in mind to change my furniture utterly, so it would be different, yes.. why sound, that sounds wonderful. My room, my meals, my rules." He grinned at the idea, pressing closer for the sake that it was alright, that it felt right, and that he hadn't heard his living pillow complaining just yet, so he saw no point in not stopping any time soon.

"You said it yourself, it was an accident, so technically it doesn't count, mm?" another soft grin finding his lips though he straightened lightly, canting his head just barely. "Though since we're talking about collecting I suppose I may as well and make sure we're even, since none of this carries to the next weekend." It was all meant in gentle teasing, really. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'll collect before bed. For the time being, I'm afraid my legs have gone numb." He could have sulked at this, really. It was an almost mood ruiner. "I don't understand how it works. When I first came back from the school, I really was paralyzed from the waist down, I couldn't sit up on my own. But I still could feel everything. Well now at least I can sit up by myself."

Nicholas: “Precious? Precious. The last time I was called precious I was but five years old and it was my father's brother's nephew's cousin's father’s brother’s sister’s cousin’s uncle’s great aunt’s daughter….I think. Having a large family can be very confusing…” He had to laugh at how it sounded, but he shrugged as best he could without disturbing James and leaned back in close to him and offered a smile. “Your meals? This from the man that hasn’t had a hot meal in ages. I’m aquiver with terror of what lies in your fridge, and don’t get me started on how worried I’ll be about your rules.” Nicholas managed to reach up and ruffle James hair without disturbing the younger man, feeling light and free and comfortable. This was friendship.

“Well you said it counted and if I had jerked back immediately rather than sit there like a deaf-mute it might have remained an accident so I have no choice but to concede to your judgment. Besides, I’d been knocked quite silly at the moment.” The comment on numb legs made him frown and he shifted, lifting James with him and padded over to the bed and laid him down on his stomach. “I’ll have to increase the circulation in your legs to keep them from cramping later…if you don’t mind.”

James: He tried desperately to follow the familial line, to make sense of who had said such a thing and he found himself miserably failing with a mild pang of a would-be headache poking at his temples. "I'm afraid the Rochemont is a dying breed. I'm an only child, my father has an older brother and the man was married and had one child. My cousin has no children of her own. My grandfather was ironically also an only child, and so forth, there really are very few of us around." Which was a shame, really. "Play nice or I'll-" he frowned lightly, thoughtful as was as he tried to find a 'punishment', "or I'll take you to meet my cousin and force feed you her food. It's horrific! And she knows it. She never cooks." The woman really was the only female he'd ever speak that way about, well Christine too.

And then... well one moment he'd been sitting there, legs actually going numb, and the next he found himself lying on his stomach. Oh for shame, the thoughts that came to mind were all wrong and he flushed lightly, folding his arms lightly to tip his head and rest it sideways against said arms. "Er... I don't mind?" This was a first as for so many things, and while he was vaguely confused, he trusted his host enough to actually have no reason to worry or complain. One could imagine that it was strange to trust someone so easily, but there were valid reasons. "Won't the robe be in the way?" it was a softly innocent question, and if it came to it, he saw no problems with actually being rid of said bathrobe, if only temporarily, or what have you. Nothing to hide.

Nicholas: Nicholas folded the sleeves of his yukata back and tied them in place, padding around to find the linen wrap and some massage oil he usually kept around. He found some unscented oil and in a fit of mischief added a few drops of James’ gift oil to the mix. With the little pot he had being heated in the microwave for a few seconds the room was swiftly permeated with the scent of peppermint and a slight hint of lemon. Content with the aroma wafting from his little heated pot of oil he slipped back up alongside the bed and clinically peeled James’ bathrobe away in a silent answer, laying the linen across his behind for politeness’ sake. Even so his eyes lingered a bit, that was a lovely, luscious rear that James had, and it went to waste settled in a chair all day. Not that he’d say that. Ever.

He set the pot on the bedside table and poured some onto his palms, warming it by rubbing his hands before slowly massaging the upper part of James’ thigh first and foremost. “Oh please sir, don’t force feed me food. Even if she never cooks I’ve downed some rather…interesting edibles to remain alive. No matter how horrid it might seem to your cultured palette it’s nothing I can’t handle.” It was true, on more than one occasion he’d had to consume insects, organs, meats and fruits that he’d never heard of and most would be quite comfortable with keeping it that way for themselves for the rest of their lives. “I can bear most anything by way of cuisine James.”

James: Had one ever witnessed tension dissipate utterly, they would see it now, the whole of the tall form seeming to further sink into the mattress as he sighed deeply, lashes fluttering over golden eyes in a manner that could have almost been taken for someone having fallen asleep. "I've died and gone to heaven.." he murmured near inaudibly, having candles with a scent similar in his room, as we as oil holders and odorless candles to heat it up and allow the scent to waft all around his little haven. There was no fussing when he was disrobed, having no complaining to offer, and would have even been fine if he hadn't been covered back up in some way. Hadn't it already been stated that he had nothing to hide? That sounded about right, yes.

"I'll find something else to punish you with if you don't behave.." he mumbled slightly, almost drowsy already but it was the scent, it was the presence at his side that made him this way. He would manage to stay awake through it all, really. "At times I wonder if I couldn't be better off without any feelings in my legs... instead of that, I actually have to change the way the footrest are a few times a day so that my limbs don't go utterly numb... it's more bothersome than it is helpful at this point.." he sighed but grew utterly quiet when the first touch finally registered, lithe form (from the waist up in any case) stretching lightly, shoulders arching the briefest of moments before he was relaxing fully again.

Nicholas: “Heaven is a massage by a friend?” Nicholas quipped as he smoothed his hands down the length of James’ lean form, kneading and massaging any and all tenseness from those limbs with warm and steady hands. Despite his best intentions he found himself humming slightly, something old and operatic and what was it called? O Fortuna. Right. He shrugged within his own mind but let his fingers continue from one leg to the next before sitting at James’ feet and pulling the large but surprisingly delicate limbs into his lap, massaging his ankles and soles with ease born of long practice. He even went so far as to tug and curl on James’ uncooperative toes before pampering them as well.

“Mmmhmm, and what would that be James?” It seemed he was saying that name over and over but he liked saying it and James wasn’t complaining so what was the problem. “Well if your legs ever crap up again or you feel them going numb just give me a knock and I’ll set time aside to help you out. Nothing’s worse then legs that fall asleep…mm. I’ll probably end up doing your back as well if you like. I don’t mind.” It was just an excuse to touch James more than anything else, do be comfortable and offer this much to the man that wasn’t used to physical contact.

James: "The scent, too... it's divine." He shuddered lightly, pleasantly and nuzzled against his arms, unable to really believe any of this seemed to be happening. He swore, in his mind, that his legs would have twitched under the pressure. This really was heaven, and now he was certain he had died. Maybe he'd died in his sleep. Maybe and all of what had happened since the morning was nothing but a death-dream. Yeah, that had to be it. Why would anyone kiss him, even if accidentally? And that leg between his thighs, damn but that had been far too nice too. Focusing on that however would be a bad thing and he took another deep breath of his surroundings and closed his eyes again.

He made himself focus on the humming that came from his host and realized that it was something he knew the lyrics to by heart, but merely set on humming ever quietly himself. "I don't know... I'm sure I'll eventually find something, but for now, this is far too marvellous for me to want to focus on anything else... you really are amazing..." The words were sighed softly, near inaudibly, though he paused at the offer to do his back. "...Would you really...?" how softly curious, almost afraid he would be told no. All of this was by far too nice for him to want to say no, after all. "Please do, if you really want to..." though his back as the rest of him due to the accident was littered with scars or other, but none too visible. They could mostly all be felt.

Nicholas: “Mmm…If I do your back I’m going to have to straddle your hips…is that alright?” Nicholas murmured as he continued to smooth and massage the muscles and tendons of James’ calves, content where he was for the moment but more than willing to move back up. A quick glance to his friend’s back had him smiling with mischief; there were freckles there, not a lot, but enough for some doodling. Wings of a firebird would suit James well enough; he’d have to get his kanji paintbrush from the case on his desk to do them properly. Heck, he could get away with calling it a variant of a massage, he could even mix in a little of the heavenly scented oil…or even better yet…

“What do you think of Henna, James? Temporary tattoos made with the henna plant and all...” An innocent lead in to something that could be innocently amusing but he would have to have James’ permission first and foremost. “Just something on your back where no one could see…” He didn’t say what or how or even that he had henna for such things; he was going to walk the boys through small tattoos on their wrists as a part of their exercise and lecture on the Hindi culture next week.

James: "No complaints whatsoever, question however.." which had more or less nothing to do with the current situation, but it was on the edge of his mind, so no reason not to ask about it. "What you were humming before.. the title eludes me, but I'm certain I learned to play it while I was in music school." And at home to boot, he'd been in music school from grade one through three, and then a private tutor at home since his parents had settled elsewhere again. He had learned to play the piano and mastered it- to a point- had learned to violin just as well as the flute. Let's not forget the singing, but no point in mentioning that just now, was there? Henna? He was familiar with the term, but it went back so long that he had to think for a minute or so.

"It's lovely, when done properly, but it goes back so long since I've seen any or been close to any... are you trying to say you would use my back for a canvas?" he had to chuckle, the thought was amusing as much as it held his attention. It could have been something new to try, in any case. As though he could still feel everything from the top of his legs down, his back had grown to be twice as sensitive, but for that he blamed the scars alone. It was strange the way it all worked, but he wouldn't complain. His back was for the most part now always pressed against the back of his chair, thus safe from anyone that wanted to try anything funny, if any thought to, in any case.

Nicholas: “Mmm? Oh, it’s from Carina Burma, the first and final piece called O Fortuna. Sung in Latin, I think.” Nicholas answered as he finished the massage of James’ legs, convinced that they were no longer numb or affected with poor circulation to slip and sit next to James, his fingers smoothing up the line of freckles on his friends’ spine. It was curiosity more than anything else that urged him to ask, to perform, but he wanted anyway. “Music school? What do you know how to play?” he asked softly, moving around and away to first massage and smooth the skin of James’ back, pouring more of the oil on his hands and straddling his hips, placing his palms along the ridge of his friend’s shoulder blades and smoothing his palms straight down. He kept his weight on his knees to start off with because he knew if someone just up and jumped on his back he’d have a fit.

So instead he hovered for awhile before gradually setting himself down against James’ hips, hands busy massaging the flesh of James’ back and listening to the answer to his earlier question. “Well I happen to have some on hand for an exercise for the boys later next week, on Friday so they have the weekend to wear off. I know it’s good quality but I’d like to test the overall color and consistency if you wouldn’t mind being a guinea pig for me. It won’t be anything obscene…just some wings that will go from here…” he traced the skin between James’ shoulder blades and curved outward along the edges of his ribcage and down again. “To here….If you want.”

James: "Yes, yes, I knew I was familiar with that piece... despite my age it's the last piece I ever learned at that school.." he trailed off, thoughtful a moment, amused that he could even remember anything of it. A lot of his past before the throat incident had gone out the window, along with so many other things. "And I do believe it is Latin from what I remember the choir sing back at school." Which he also been part of. "Flute, Piano, Violin. My parents wanted the best for me." He would have lifted a shoulder but was far too relaxed to and thus didn't. Those fingers had him shivering fully, something that went through the whole of his form and he allowed a deep, almost sated sigh escape him. Gods, he was dead, yes, dead dead dead and this was heaven.

The first full touch of those hands made him roll his shoulders lightly, for the sake of comfort before he settled and was still again, lashes half-dropped over his eyes. "I really think I've died and gone to heaven... some times last night... I went to sleep and I never woke up..." he sighed the words softly, feeling as if he could die times and times again. Though he was made to focus when his question was answered and he hummed briefly under his breath, as if mentally testing it, the whole of his frame again shivering at the touch; he couldn't help it. "I don't see why I wouldn't let you go ahead with it. It isn't as if I actually expect anything bad from it... so you may as well, I think it could be an interesting experience."

Nicholas: “You’re young, we’re both young. We can’t use the ‘despite my age’ or ‘back in my day’ cards until we’re fifty at least, so none of that. I tend to listen to it while I’m writing about wars or battles, that or Mars. They fit very well with those overall situations.” He murmured as he continued to work the tendons alongside James’ spine, pausing here and there to work at particularly thick muscle. James really was all muscle and sinew, but not in any way that he’d find distasteful, just lean and sleek and…sensual. He flushed slightly and was grateful that James couldn’t see him. His fingers smoothed back up to the fine hairs at the nape of James’ neck and he realized that he wanted to steal yet another kiss of sorts. James was relaxed, half asleep it seemed…he wouldn’t notice, right?

He blinked and fought with himself for awhile, but he was so close and that skin, that lovely, smooth and warm skin was right there and he felt himself moving forward while his mind kept telling himself not to do what it was he was thinking of. But he did. Whisper soft at first then pressing with a tender firmness he’d only ever reserved for lovers he pressed his lips against the nape of James’ neck, unable to explain it away to anyone, let alone himself. And he wanted to, so he did part his lips and have a soft lap of that skin again. He coughed, flushing as he stood slowly. Moving with as much dignity as humanly possible he slipped away and found his henna, kanji brush, and lemon juice. He slipped back up, laying down the design he wanted on James’ back in whisper soft brushstrokes before sitting back and getting the henna ready.

James: "I went to music school from first to fourth- no, third grade. I was young." He snickers softly but otherwise allowed himself to remain quiet, simply feeling those hands, whimpering soft, inaudible notes of delight when knots gave way. He usually wasn't so vocal (or maybe he was and didn't know it), but this felt right, this felt good enough that had he been settled otherwise than on his stomach he would have been in trouble. It was something he could see to if he focused well enough on it and he tried. Had been in the process of ignoring it, actually managing well enough until those lips touched skin. What work had been done was lost as he felt himself stiffen minutely- where one couldn't feel him stiffen, mind you- and flushed just softly.

When he was abandoned- though temporarily, all his thoughts went back to the idea of a cold shower, no wait, his old uncle Alphonso in a bikini. Yes, there, that was better, gods that was an horrifying image and it worked wonders at soothing him and there no longer was an issue to see to. Though it had been vaguely painful in itself, he could ignore it. After all... well then again, he couldn't remember last it had happened. He was fully relaxed by the time his host was back and his eyes were closed, breathing steady though he was still wide awake. Well perhaps not so 'wide' awake, as he was aware enough of his surrounding to squirm just ever faintly at the brush strokes. Couldn't be helped that he was so sensitive.

Nicholas: “You’re still young.” Nicholas quipped simply, quite unaware of his guest’s predicament and happier for it, if he knew that his massage and unexplained kiss had James left like that he’d be most distressed. More than distressed, he’d be downright distraught and in need of soothing by way of…for a reason beyond him entirely Nicholas felt himself shudder and flush before he shook it off, nothing was happening. He continued to focus on the brushstrokes, amused by the soft sounds that James made and actually wanting to pull more from him, but he wouldn’t go out of his way.

Once the groundwork was laid down he set the brush aside for a slender pipe and set the chilled henna down on James’ skin in the pattern of wings across that lovely back. “How do you feel?” he asked softly, fingers of one hand smoothing against James’ side as he worked on the somewhat simplistic and tribal design.

James: "Bah, alright, alright.." Offering a slight chuckle, not up to arguing though it was true, he was still young, but first grade felt like forever ago, what had it been, twenty years ago now? Something not far from that he was certain. At this point all he could really do was relax, close his eyes fully and merely breathe, trying to keep himself from squirming too much, but it was out of his control as far as those quiet sounds, those soft tones of delight escaped him. His back really was not unlike the biggest nerve center on the whole of him, perhaps why he cared little to let others stand behind him or touch his back. But Nick wouldn't use it against him, would he? No, no he wouldn't friends didn't do that sort of thing. But he couldn't be certain, he hadn't had many friends.

Even when the brush was replaced by cooler henna, he didn't shift much, barely blinked, 'hmm'ing almost drowsily when he was spoken to. For an answer he could only offer another soft mindless noise, something that said he was more than fine, that he still more than likely thought he'd died and gone to heaven. Sighing softly, so relaxed he knew he could have fallen asleep, he canted his head lightly and settled fully where he was, knowing it wouldn't hurt to doze off if only somewhat. He would wake easily enough.

Nicholas: Content that he would not be contested Nicholas continued to lie on the henna, thickening the lines in certain areas and making certain the design was set down as he’d imagined. Layer after layer until all the fine lines and small stand alone glyphs before he sat back and was content with what he’d finished. The design would have to sit for an hour or two, and he had to take up his brush again and coat the henna paste with the lemon juice, chuckling at James’ soft noise of delight. Now that the henna was done with he decided to be a little evil and selfish and Eric-esque and take a clean brush to slide across James’ skin. Up along his spine, in and out between the designs, sliding over that skin in varying pressures to see what other noises his friend would make, just teasing. It was just a tease.

He understood fully how something so simple could be so electrifying, his own spine and the palms of his hands were achingly sensitive most of the time. He decided since James was mostly asleep he could get away with a soft peck to the base of his spine as he slipped to sit next to the bed. Without much of anything else to do he pulled one of James’ arms with him, massing the hand connected to his unbroken wrist, content to pamper the brains out of his friend tonight. Heck, he even went so far as to press a soft, whisper of a kiss to James’ palm before resuming the delicate hand massage.

James: He didn't have any complaints, would never have any as long as the henna was being worked and placed just where it belonged, hell he did doze off just slightly and that until even the whole thing was being coated with the lemon juice. He got used to some things relatively quickly, and this it seems was one of them, he could have slept through a repeat performance if it had happened, but it seems as if it didn't as he woke with a slight start as the brush made its way along his skin. He really could only shiver softly, breathing picking up just faintly as one soft, whimpered tone of delight came after the other in a slow pattern. Teasing perhaps, but this was his back one was talking about. His very sensitive back.

"Stop teasing me~.." he offered near breathlessly, lashes fluttering, not so much begging nor sounding like he minded, but there was a look in his eyes that spoke of something else, something that could lead to yet something else that really shouldn't happen between friends. Lashes fluttering again when his back was left alone, relaxing fully within moment when it was his hand that was taken, he sighed lightly, ever mildly, but smiled gently again. "I'm going to have to ask you a question you probably won't expect.. or maybe you would but...Mmmm..." sighing deeply again, lashes falling, "What did I do to deserve being treated so well? It... feels so good... so nice... so ... so new."

Nicholas: “Because.” Came the sage and serious reply, it was short and sweet and entirely true. But James just might want him to elaborate. “Because you work so hard, because you helped me settle in. Because you’ve been through a bunch of stress lately and should relax, because you’re handsome. Because you should relax on the weekends, because I want to, because this is what friends do for each other; they act as a haven when the world is stressful.” There, that should hold James well enough. He turned to look back up to his friend and smile kindly. “Don’t say you don’t enjoy it.”

James: "'Because', you say.." it seems from there on he tuned everything else out, indeed hearing the elaboration but focusing primarily on 'because'. It made sense as much as it didn't, for which reason his mind more than welcomed the elaboration. "I've never had anyone do that for me before." He merely offers softly, allowing himself to merely be for now, more than content to in any case. "But I owe you twice now." He eventually offered the words with a chuckle, lashes still low and covering those eyes so it was hard to tell whether he really meant it or not. But he was so relaxed, back to being so close to being able to sleep that one could have hoped that perhaps he would forget those two things by the time he woke up again, if he didn't before morning, that was.

"Because.." he murmured the word again, to no one in particular, sighing softly, near blissfully, "a haven when the world is stressful... that would be nice.." He was talking to no one in particular now, just mumbling, perhaps mindlessly, as if his mind was busy turning things over and again until he understood it all. "It feels wonderful, there should be other words to describe it but it won't come.." a few more mumbled terms before he was quiet, not so much asleep as able to enjoy what was being offered so simply to him.

Nicholas: “It is nice…it’s a good thing to have. It used to be libraries for me, until I met Luk and the kids, now they’re my haven, or were until I met you.” Nicholas offers a soft smile and an inclination of his head in James’ direction, eyes a darker shade of green and his loose hair still damp and clinging to his throat. He was comfortable on the floor, listening to James breathe and relax in the nurturing, cozy atmosphere of his dormitory. It hadn’t taken him long at all to move his stuff in and around to create a home out of a shell of an apartment. Not that it wasn’t nice, but it wasn’t home. Now it was, full of books and knickknacks and artefacts. Photos everywhere, his clothes in a hamper. That was home. He leaned against the bed, smelling the fresh Egyptian Linen that would now absorb James’ scent like a sponge.

James: "A haven..." the words were repeated again, near silent, little more than air expelled from his lungs as he curled the fingers of one hand briefly, to remind himself he was still there, still awake. "Until I met..." he trailed off, playing parrots it seemed as the words were not his, he was merely repeating them, and not even to the end of the sentence. "That's nice..." no longer paying attention, but still awake, he nestled along what he knew was a foreign bed but felt, and smelled better than his own- or so his tired mind told him- and so that was alright. Breathing a soft sigh, content for the first time in who knew how long, he would have been more than fine with the idea of never waking up again. This was okay.

"Nick..?" a moment more, a few thoughts later. Though even if he was answered one way or another he would be quiet, seemingly fast asleep still before his lashes would flutter, a soft utterance of 'thank you...' finding means to escape him. This was good, this was a right way to spend his weekends from now on, they were going to spend a few weekends together, right? Maybe not every single one of them- he didn't want to intrude- but a weekend now and again, yes.

Nicholas: “James want a cracker?” Nick quipped from his position on the floor, chuckling at James’ parroting of his words with good humor. The man was tired, he was tired, but he had to wait until the henna dried and that would take a while longer yet. Since it seemed that James was falling asleep and he had no desire whatsoever to wake the other man he pulled himself up and eased away from his bed. He padded to the opposite side of his room, picked up an mp3 player and ear buds. A few taps and turns of the keypad had some of his symphonic rock burring in his ears as he moved about the apartment and did some detail tidying up.

Stacking, filing, folding, etc, etc, clearing space for more storage and gradually getting into the music as he moved and worked for this or that Nicholas started to keep time with a subtle rocking of his body. It grew and grew until he was turning on his feet, playing air guitar along with the solo. Well, not exactly air guitar since he had a feather duster in one of his hands. He hopped and twisted around strumming along with the solo, his fingers knowing the riffs because he did dabble in guitar playing a little bit, turning and sliding across the now abundant floor space while tearing up a godly lick…in his mind.

James: "No, cracker wants a parrot." Or so it seemed, the man was now slowly taking a dip out of his mind, and if anyone managed to make sense of his words, bravo to them. The words had been mumbled, James in-between more than asleep and waking slightly when he was moved away from. He remained rather still, merely watching for a few moments before he made to fold his arms beneath his head and cant said head sideways to rest it upon the folded limbs. He couldn't go anywhere, didn't want to, and had no reason to. Still he only half-watched his host's... antics, or whichever term one would want to pick for what he was witnessing. He'd never really stopped to spend much time with his staff, had he? Not that he really had any time still.

He bit back what would have been a soft, wistful sigh and closed his eyes with merely an exhalation, wanting to watch as much as he didn't want to. He couldn't do those things and never would be able to anymore. But that was alright, or so he told himself, in time he would accept how life had changed as it was. Now it certainly couldn't be helped that with nothing more to do than lie still and be, he did drift off, just lightly, barely, but enough for him to not wake at the first sound that would approach him, it wasn't a bad thing in itself, at this point.

Nicholas: When that song ended and Nicholas remembered that he wasn’t alone he flushed and swapped albums on his mp3 player to something less energetic and resumed his puttering about the room. Only a little longer to go before he could take off the henna, he noted as he padded over to the kitchenette and pulled out a box of crackers and set them aside as he reorganized the mess of boxes and bags of food and spices he had in the cupboard. He didn’t even really cook most of the time and he still had so much in his little area. Sighing but slowly getting into the music again, it was salsa now since he’d put the player on shuffle, Nick finished that last bit of cleaning and picked up the box of crackers he’d set aside. Maybe James was feeling nibbly again.

A few pivots, steps and turns had him at the bedside where he crouched and turned off his mp3 player so he’d stop dancing. He reached out and smoothed his fingers through James’ hair, glad he was relaxed but irritated that he was so exhausted. The man worked too much, but then again, so did he. So he couldn’t really say much on the matter. Shrugging that off he checked his watch and moved his fingers to tap James lightly on the shoulder. “Time to clean up your back…and I got you these.” He held up the box with a soft smile.

James: What a spectacle it would have been, had he been awake to witness it. A shame really, but perhaps at a later time he would be able to sneak glances, much later in time. In his mind, his near sleeping minds, words wandered, took sharp turns and tried to blend together to form something coherent. Next weekend was being spent in his room, he would need to find something, anything to do, but what? In time he could formulate something, maybe a simple outing. One had to note that outings, done in the Rochemont style, were never 'simple'. But an outing could be interesting and relatively easy to plan. It sounded about right in his muddled mind and the thought settled.

It would have gone further into details had those fingers not found his hair. The simple, ever so simple touch made everything blurry in his mind and he sighed, lashes fluttering a moment or so before the touch moved from hair to shoulder. Groaning softly in something akin to mild displeasure at being awakened, he lifted himself just enough to use his second, bandaged hand to rub his eyes lightly. "I'm not a parrot..." he offers lightly, near inaudibly at the box but manages a faint, still tired grin. "But thank you. I haven't eaten a lot as of lately... for reasons that are beyond me." Though he paused. "Clean my back... how are we going about doing that?" It was a valid question, really.

Nicholas: “I know you’re not, I’ve never seen a parrot this big.” He chuckled and set the box on the table beside his bed, smiling and shrugging as he sat back on his heels. “I’ll just have to keep feeding you until you can’t stand it then, eh?” Nicholas had no issues with that, he had plenty of food and didn’t mind sharing it, especially since James enjoyed his ‘cooking’. And his company. Both were points in the man’s favor, Nick new he was awkward and quirky and beyond strange to most people and James just took it in with that serene smile and manner of his

Another thing that he appreciated was how utterly calm James was all of the time, smooth and soft and composed. Nick could never manage to stay like that for long. He’s either awkward or impassioned by his studies.

At the question he stood and moved to the bathroom, retrieving a shallow dish, a plastic knife, and a dark red washcloth. “First we scrape the paste off, wipe your back clean with the rag and then I brush on more of the lemon juice where your skin was marked by the henna.” He replied, already moving to straddle James’ hips as he spoke, setting everything within reach and flipping the plastic knife in his hand. “Tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”

James: "Yes, well... never know what you'll find in the world, or maybe you do, you've wandered more than I have..." his voice held just the ghost of huskiness that one seemed to gain whenever they were fresh from waking up. Sighing, he blinked mildly and tried to clear up his mind, lips curling into a slight smile. "Feed me until I can't stand it? You do realize that could take a while... I used to eat enough for three but still remained impossibly thin." Which had been something he'd worked on 'fixing' when his courtship of the now ex-wife had started since she'd found his eating habits less than pleasing. Shaking his mind slightly to clear off the thought, he returned his attention to his host and his return.

"I'm most comfortable, no matter where you're settled..." a half-tease about the earlier slip and faceful of lap fall. Really now, he didn't mind the presence at his back, it was so comforting that he would have been willing to just drift right back to sleep, not that he did. "I do so appreciate our time together... I have to figure out what to do for next weekend... maybe something beyond the school grounds..." he was talking to himself more than anything else, voice soft, thoughtful. Any input would be taken into consideration, however. which was a good thin.

Nicholas: Nicholas had to repress a soft shudder at the husky tone of James voice, between the scent seeping into his bed sheets, the rain, and that voice he’d be certain to have interesting and confounding dreams for the next few days. But James was his friend, and he’d shake it off. “I’ve seen many wonders that most men would consider a fever dream, but I’ve yet to see a bird tropical in nature that large. I have, however, had the opportunity to swim with a Manta Ray, beautiful creatures those.”

He continued to murmur softly as his hands moved, scraping the paste off that skin gingerly and putting it in the bowl. Every few scrapes or so he’d pause and wipe the cleared skin with the rag. Scrape, scrape, wipe, scrape, scrape, wipe. He worked his way down and out, cleaning all of the henna from James’ skin.

“I’ve enjoyed it as well. I’ve never been so relaxed around another person that wasn’t related to me in some way, shape, or form. I look forward to next weekend.” He murmured once he was finished, setting the rag aside to take up the brush again and smooth lemon juice over the darkened skin with small, intricate strokes. He mulled over ideas for awhile before thinking. “We could go to a market and you could pick out what you’d like to eat, and I’ll cook for you. I can make most anything with proper directions.”

James: "Maybe in the time before ours.." he would have shrugged but didn't, quietly enjoying the attention despite how strange it felt in its own way. Though no matter how much he spoke, the huskiness was slow to fade, perhaps not to before he slept again but that was unlikely. It was only a matter of time before it was gone. Stretching his neck and folding his good arm beneath him again, he set his forehead along his wrist, closing his eyes and relaxing as he was now. "In some way I think I've died and gone to heaven still, so you know.." quiet but truthful before he was quiet once more.

Thinking, drinking things in. The idea of going to the market sounded like a good thing, something they could do on the Saturday, but he wanted something more for the Friday evening, something special. He didn't need to be around on Saturdays, most teacher who offered bonus classes had no need for him. And since Nick still was relatively new, he knew the other World Civilization teacher could hold the bonus class himself for a few weeks more. Humming gently under his breath, he smiled lightly. "That sounds wonderful... spending time outside of the school grounds, yes..."

Nicholas: “Most likely.” Nicholas replied, shivering again at the continuation of the low husky voice he was being assaulted with. He continued to clean and brush until there was no other reason for him to be sitting where he was. He blinked a few times, staring at the markings before tracing it with his fingertips, smoothing over that skin just to be able to touch it. He really was a physically affectionate man under the silent intensity of his scholarly nature and some what hermit like ways. Nick enjoyed contact with other people when he had the chance and now…now he had a whole canvas of tanned skin tempting him.

James was half out of it, again, and he couldn’t help but mutter darkly under his breath to himself before leaning down and brushing his lips against the first ridge of James’s spine. So soft, spicy and sweet even with the lemon juice…he caught himself and flushed, pulling up and sliding off of James with an apologetic mumble. “You can lay on your back or side now if you like.” He offered by way of changing the subject from his actions.

James: He was just fine the way he was. Could have stayed that way forever and would have, if those lips hadn't touched his skin for the third time. This was the third time, wasn't it? He didn't know why he kept count, or the point of it but he did and voiced himself quietly, "You do realize that's three, now." murmured, barely audible but still there as his lips curled just lightly. It was all so unusual for him, so new and yet it felt so right. Why would he object when it didn't make his skin crawl? When it didn't make him want to curl in a ball and hide away from the world? He felt as if there was nothing wrong with all of this, so maybe there wasn't. "You also must realize that no matter how much I try, rolling by myself is nearly impossible."

To which he chuckled but didn't actually move in any way, "to be truthful, this is rather comfortable, unless you'd rather have me rolling around on your much too comfortable bed." James would have tried to look at his back to see how it all looked like but knew better, instead he canted his head lightly and spotted the cracker box. "Though I do have to say, I am feeling rather nibbly again." There it was, another soft, playful grin. The word was his afterall, wasn't it?

Nicholas: “…” Nicholas froze and flushed, ducking his head down and hiding behind his hair and praying that he would just die from embarrassment. Which was a very juvenile thing to do, but he couldn’t help it. He felt more and more the awkward teen around James’ cool manner than he had when he’d actually been an awkward teen. So it was his guest’s fault, if it was anyone’s, but that didn’t matter. He cleared his throat and settled next to James, sitting on the bed and blinking again. “…I keep forgetting. I know it’s something I should keep in mind but it doesn’t even register.” Nick shrugged and pulled the box of crackers closer, cracking it open and offering a sleeve to James.

“Nibbly’s good. It means you’ll eat, just try to keep from getting too many crumbs, this is my favourite bed linen…” he caught himself about to add that he frequently slept in those sheets without anything on at all because they were so smooth and comfortable but stopped and only flushed. He was doomed. But he didn’t care, which was odd.

James: "I don't mind. I keep on forgetting too, but I'm reminded every time I try rolling around in bed and somehow I don't make it..." he lifts a shoulder softly, slowly getting used to that part of the whole thing, despite that it would have made him curse everything he'd even known in the first three weeks of his return at the school. "And... for the sake of going back to the point that this does make three, I'd care to point out that I don't mind... though it should be awkward, I suppose..." he paused in soft uncertainty, breathing a quiet sigh, "it actually is rather comforting..." for someone who had never known affection, it was, in any case. Peering at the box a moment, he pondered before shaking his head softly.

"If you want as little crumbs as possible, I'm going to need to be on my back, preferably sitting up, but not this way." he managed the ghost of a smile, knowing it was pesky to a point having to always depend on others when it came to turning around. With a little work he usually was able himself, but with his second wrist still healing, it was nigh impossible to do that kind of thing at the moment, so he had to depend. Which went relatively well with the fact that he usually hated sleeping on his back, having a body pillow on his bed and clinging to it fiercely on those nights that seemed just that much more worse than others.

Nicholas: “You’d better take what I owe you before the number gets any higher…” Nicholas managed from behind the safety of his auburn curtain, his little ‘invisibility shield’ that kept him safe from the world when he was more embarrassed than flustered, otherwise he’d be using his sharp tongue instead…though it was his tongue that got him into this mess…and his lips…and that skin…he had to blink and move to help James shift, pulling the man gently while still hiding behind his hair until his guest was settled comfortably, seated with his back against the headboard.

“How’s that?” He murmured, daring to peek out from behind his hair, eyes pale and bright for how childish he felt at the moment. He was a grown man, he should act like it. Being around James, however, made him feel so very young, so clumsy, so awkward that he couldn’t think about how he should act. James did say he’d enjoyed it though, that it was comforting. That had to count for something, right?

James: "In time, I'll let them pool and just take what you owe in one shot, then we'll be even." he offered almost nonchalantly, still quietly teasing, of course. He found himself craving the ability to touch that hair, he had loved brushing it but didn't touch it now, at least not yet. When he was turned about, he made sure to take the wrap along, not much caring for the idea of being utterly bare just yet. He waited until he was settled to reach out and brush that hair ever lightly behind a shoulder and ear with a soft smile, "you shouldn't hide behind your hair, really. I can't see what you might be thinking if I can't see your eyes." quiet but truthful as he took the offered sleeve then and beamed another slight smile. Why did all of this feel so right when it had been so awkward in earlier years when he had tried to befriend others?

It was the affection that was being offered to him without really being offered. It was natural despite the dips and turns, it was really comforting. "Though I guess I prefer the hair over the snipping, but beggars can't be choosers so I'll take what comes my way no matter what." That could have almost been a confession had he meant anything else by it. But he was as loyal as any good dog and didn't desert anyone when they were at their most vulnerable.

Nicholas: Nicholas shivered at the soft tease none the less and nodded, blinking in mild confusion when his curtain was taken away, he needed his curtain, it kept him invisible. It almost made him balk and run, almost but that smile and how good it felt to have those fingers on his ear made him relax and smile somewhat tentatively back. Alright, he didn’t need to hide. He shrugged and smoothed his hair back behind on the other side before sliding up to settle next to James and lean on him as he had been before it started to rain, comfortable and cozy. It felt nice, how they fit and complimented one another. More than nice, but a better word eluded him for the moment

There wasn’t any awkwardness, strangeness or stress being held over his head and he was contended to remain were he was until the sun emerged again. “…I…I haven’t done that since I was a child. The hair thing.” He admitted softly, stealing a cracker and nibbling on it lightly. “I just didn’t want to snap at you again, I really wasn’t in the mood for it…or prepared. I just…bah.” He shook his head and settled against James more securely.

James: "There, that's better..." how calm he still was, peaceful in every and all meanings of the world when he could see those features beyond the hair. The presence literally against him made him relax even more as he started to nibble on the crackers quietly, actually managing to keep the crumbs to an amazing amount of none at all. "We all have our quirks, it's what makes us who we are, if we didn't we'd be little different than clones. I wouldn't want you any other way than the way you are now." James canted his head however and chuckled softly, "sheepy Nick."

He grinned but went back to his cracker until it was completely gone. "I don't need to know why, I don't need to know backstories that are so long you lose track of the beginning and never get to the end. Some things happen for a reason, and we should just let them come by as they do, is all." My, when he was tired, he was ever philosophical, what a change of pace. At least for some, in any case. He usually didn't really have time for that kind of thing.

Nicholas: He found himself flushing at the pleasure in James’ voice to see his face and the comment about being sheeplike. “I’m not a sheep!” Nicholas protested weakly as he shrugged and curled up against James, utterly at ease and comfortable where he is if not so much about what was being said. No back stories, no tangents? Whatever would he say then? It would come to him. “I’m just out of words for the moment, so I picked an utterance. It could have been ‘meh’ or summat.” Another shrug, another shifting of his head until his cheek was pressed comfortably in the comfortable nook of James’ shoulder; Nicholas was at peace for the time being and took that feeling to heart.

It was so cozy, so serene, just curling up and nibbling on crackers, sating physical and mental curiosity with food and conversation. After awhile when he’d finished a few more crackers and couldn’t think of anything to say he let his eyes flutter closed and mumbled, “You’re comfy…” Or something of the like as he dozed off, with a heart beat that close and warmth all around him Nicholas had more trouble than he could stand staying awake. Just a little nap, a short rest of the eyes, and then they’d do whatever it is that James wanted to do.

James: "You very well could have been a sheep." Not one he'd shear though, hell not. He liked that hair, a little too much for his proper mindset or even just his sanity but he let it slip, merely allowing for a slight smile to find his lips once he was pressed against, once he was settled against and used as a pillow of sort. Why was it so comforting? What was it in this teacher, in this new addition that he had sought out, that made things like these feel just right, comfortable in ways no one had been able to before? Then again, there never had been anyone, had there? No, there hadn't and it didn't matter. Prudence didn't matter, none of it did. With the way things were settled now, it eventually utterly slipped his mind that he was wearing so little.

What did it matter anyway? He had nothing to hide, not that he'd wander around naked any time soon, but he did have absolutely nothing to hide and let out a sigh, letting that issue go just as well, "I'm glad to hear that..." the words were merely offered in a whisper of an answer, canting his head back as one arm was made to wind about the form resting against his own. He was fine with things settled that way, with the weight and warmth against him. He could have slept too and found himself dozing off just as well, perhaps still exhausted from the curve ball the world had thrown at him when the wheeler had made contact. He wanted just one rest in the dark.

Nicholas: “…notasheep…” Mumbled in a low honey voice few heard simply because A) He never really had anyone over early or late enough to hear him sigh and speak and yawn, etc, etc, this early in the morning and B) because he wasn’t ever this talkative while so exhausted. Nicholas felt as though he could easily sleep the next day into nothingness, whittle away the hours with nothing more than the comfortable bed and living, breathing pillow so close, so very close the living pillow that had a heartbeat, had a tone when he spoke and had a scent. His mind latched onto that detail and he found himself shifting subtly, his stubbly cheek rubbing like soft grade sandpaper against the skin he was pressed against until his nose was pressed against the hollow of his pillow’s throat. Now he was comfortable.

A slow, deep inhalation that took in all there was to find aromatically about the man curled with him, the scents engrained into his memory and attaching to all that he knew of James. Before he could stop himself, or rather before he could wake up enough to care, his arms slipped loosely around the waist he kept forgetting to be dead and he curled up comfy-cozy. Such an odd thing for a man that had such long appendages, it was like a stick bug pretending to be a pill bug. And what an adorable pill bug, his nose scrunching occasionally when he thought of something he didn’t care for in his woollen daze of half awareness.

James: "Very well, not a sheep." Murmured almost tenderly, words that perhaps had left him at another time, for someone else, but it didn't matter just as much, the tone was all there and it was sincere for this man alone, for this tall form trying to curl into a little one, for this friend. It felt good to use that term, it was beyond comforting in ways he couldn't fathom, couldn't understand. He'd never really had anyone to call a 'friend' before, other than Drake, but the man was so busy with his classes that there really was no time anymore. Sighing at the moment, he shrugged it off and closed his eyes once more, "Sleep Nicholas..." the man needed it, perhaps even moreso than he did but he didn't care.

His arm tightened just lightly, wanting the presence closer and not caring to understand the reasons why. There had been a point in the past, when still 'courting' Prudence, that he had craved her nearness while she'd have rather he would just keep a good ten feet distance apart. Back then however, that need had been born of a desperation to know he was still there, that his mind hadn't cracked, that he could have someone, anyone who would not turn away from him as if he had harmed himself. Now why would he have been so foolish as to do such a thing? She'd been a good woman to take him in while he'd been recovering.

Shuddering briefly at the memory, or perhaps simply at something else entirely, he pulled his mind back to the present and relaxed, muscles along his frame growing lax and allowing for the tension to dissipate. He needed to sleep and would. As soon as this little sheep nearly on his lap slept just as well.

Nicholas: Had Nicholas the ability to read minds he would not appreciate being thought of as a sheep, but then if he could read minds he wouldn’t be a historian and most likely have much more money and have an obnoxiously cosmic name that spelled out wisdom from the ether. As it was his name was still Nicholas and he still could not read minds. Especially when his own was occupied to the utmost, every neuron firing, every pulse of electricity, every iota of his being focused on the intricate task set before them and the algorithm that would end all of mankind’s suffering...utterly nothing. Body lax, mind intense in it’s mindlessness and lips parted for the occasional ‘not snore’ since it was just loud breathing, honest, Nicholas found his personal oblivion and revelled in it as much as a mindless man can revel in anything, that is to say, not at all.

Such a deep sleep for such a long time, for it would be a long sleep, he had not had since he’d come to this school, flown on the wings of providence and an all expenses paid ticket. He’d been far too busy organizing, reorganizing, organizing that which he’d organized and then moving his organized stuff about the school grounds so that it too should be organized while his personal schedule was utterly disorganized. Often he’d forget to eat or sleep, he only knew to shower because he was wearing the same suit for too long and the rest were subtly different in so much as none of the colors were the same.

So while so busy carting and organizing he’d little time for the serious business of sleep, other than the measly power naps that he caught at his desk or while walking, that half aware daze one who’s taken the same path over and over has when their mind shuts off and their body continues along the way.

Needless to say this sleep was instinctual and desperately required; he had no thoughts of being a proper gentleman and waiting for James to sleep because despite his polite ways and compassionate nature he was no gentleman. Indeed, under the scholarly exterior lay the heart of a barbarian, a descendant of druids that ran with wolves and supposedly Beowulf himself! The heart of a wolf running wild, rabid, and dangerous and….cuddling while muttering nonsense about a stuffed owl he’d had as a child while sleeping.

James: Now mind reading was a dangerous when it came to James here present, but no one in these surroundings could read minds and they were better off for it, there was nothing to warn one of what they would find within the mind of this still young man. Except for the random images of an eighteen wheeler smashing into the side of his car, for the sorrow of a man who didn't even know where the tombstone of his only daughter was, for the constant thoughts of better himself and the school so the boys would have somewhere to come to they would call home. This school, as of the past five years, had been most important to him, it held his utmost attention and somewhere deeper inside he was certain it always would be at the top of his priority list.

Though if one was to dwell deeper, not that they could, but letting imagination run rampant for a moment, they would find olden times, times of kings ruling over slaves and living in grandiose alabaster buildings, of boys shipped off elsewhere to be forgotten, of lives past and perhaps glimpses of lives future, but who are we to dip into a mind we have no access to? To the present one remains, as his lashes fluttered a moment when he picked up on the sound of muttering, his lips curving gently as his arm once more merely tightened, wanting the comfort, wanting the warmth, the presence closer for the sake that it was just right. One would not say however that he would be happy when they next woke, as his back was likely to be a mess.

A very rightful mess of knots and kinks for the sake of sleeping the way he was now. But he wouldn't complain, he was certain Eric would be more than happy to see to it. A little too happy in fact, but there was nothing he could do about it but accept it for the time being. Sighing softly, peacefully, his second hand was scrubbed through his hair again before he allowed his mind to shut itself down, or if anything he tried and managed, the ghost of a sigh once more escaping him as fingers lessened their holds but did not release, oh not they would not release. This was good, this was right.

Nicholas: Other than the occasional mutter in Gaelic the slim lanky and utterly exhausted young man was fairly silent, he’d always been a quiet man while awake, why would he ever be any different while sleeping? Night moved in slow hours with a soft hullo and passing of the chronometric beacon to dawn and dawn bled into morning because morning was a sharp bugger that had too much fun with knives for dawn’s liking. Morning spent its happy time lazing about, glowing gently from behind clouds because it woke with a horrid rat’s nest for hair and didn’t really want to be seen and was all to glad to scamper away when afternoon came along, picked a spot, and sat there. Roughly thereabouts did Nicholas stir once more, though very little and nothing at all was within his mind.

Little did he know that he was about to suffer a repeat of the day previous. It would be some time in coming, snuggled comfortably where he was, but as soon as his mind could latch onto the fact that it was not Mr. Jacovawits, the owl, he was curled around that it would occur. Fate seemed to be poking fun at this young man, but she only did so because she was fond of him and one had to admit that he blushed very prettily. For now he and his living pillow were safe.

James: One would be amazed that sleep managed to claim him so easily once his near-lap-warmer was gone into the world of Lala himself. That very sleep stayed dark and imageless, soundless just as well which was as good a thing as it was a blessed one. James hadn't managed to have such a calming sleep since the accident and he would have done most anything for a chance to more of the dark that had wanted nothing to do with his reaching hand. Why was the damned thing so bloody evil anyway? It wasn't as if he'd done anything to hurt it, to keep it away from him... well perhaps not now though the first few days after having woken up had him terrified of that very dark. But that was gone by.

The daze of the sun drifting its way across the sky found him sleeping still until his mind seemed to find the present and seemed to notice that he'd slept long enough. Really now, who made these dumb rules? He woke with something of a sigh, lips curled lightly as he rolled one shoulder but stopped himself from rolling the other when the warmth and presence against him came back to the front of his mind, to the top of his thoughts. That's right. How odd that his own usual haze was nowhere to be found, perhaps because he had slept more than enough. He canted his head lightly, brushing fingers to set hair behind an ear more out of innate, long dormant habit, and relaxed for the time being. They were in no hurry.

Nicholas: Oh yes, Fate thought, now would be a grand time to let the boy have some fun! As such a little nudge here, a whisper there, and an outright shove when the subtle touch against his ear and shifting of hairs against his scalp, horridly sensitive, did he wake…sort of. Nicholas was hell bent on keeping his eyes closed, on resting for two more hours and whoever he was with would have to deal with the fact that he was not going to move. That was final. There would be no moving of his personage in any way, shape or form. Nothing could make him twitch more than he needed to for breathing. Nothing and no one, nada, zero, zip, no moving for this sleepy man, Fate could take a hike.

At least that is what he thought until he inhaled and scent drifted through his muddled mind, attaching to the utterly wrong memories and causing a series of reflexes that had only ever been used in his bedroom. Oh look, he was in his bedroom. Well then, only in his bed. Look again! In the bed, two for two; these reflexes were only used when he was in bed with someone else. Bingo. He shifted, pressing against that other body with a soft sigh, pillow having a name that he couldn’t recall or really care to, his face tipping up to nuzzle the skin closest to him, lips parting for a nibble.

He was a tad hungry but that skin was so much more tempting. A nibble and a lick then, well what the hell, throw in a suckle or two. The rest of Nicholas’ body occupied itself by twisting, a leg twining with the others in his bed and pressing in between and up ever so slightly, the why and how of this was something else he couldn’t really recall. No name left his lips, no sigh of memory, just these motions.

James: Now this... well this wasn't what he had expected, let alone had he expected the one using him for a while to part-wake, because he was damned certain the man wasn't awake. No one in their right mind, when awake, would do such a thing to him. To anyone else? Sure, but to him? Come now, there was nothing right with him and no one wanted the spot to his side because of it. Prudence aside, she didn't count the wench had wanted nothing more than the godamned money, and she hadn't had any of it. Well except for the child welfare thing. Christine had been precious, she deserved the best. But that was over now and it made him shudder softly.

When the shifting occurred, he blinked, shivering lightly and merely canting his head back to the nuzzling. What else could he do? It made him warm in ways that were foreign to him and a small part of him craved those kind of feelings as much as another part seemed to be frightened by them. He'd been fine with those lips on his throat, but that leg was going a bit too far. Breathing a soft whine, one wrist still sensitive, the other freed, he struggled and made to inch his way away, mind perhaps not latching that there really wasn't all that much room between him, the edge of the bed, and the floor. It wasn't long before, with his attention on the other, his pulling hand stretched into nothing and through surprise, he jerked and went a-tumbling.

And tumbling he did, somehow managing to twist just so as to allow his back to take the brunt of the fall though all he heard and felt was his head crack if lightly against the floor and the solid 'thump' of his form meeting up with the floor. Not the best of ways to wake up. Or wake someone up.

Nicholas: Relentless in his sleep dictated affections Nick continued to nuzzle, suck and kiss that throat, body shifting to prop himself on top of that body and only realizing a moment too late that he had no bed to support himself on. Dimly he could only think ‘oh not again’ before he fell and landed firmly on top of whomever it was that suffered his attentions. Only after blinking a few times and looking up did he blanch and jerk back, only tangling himself in the blankets when he saw who he was with. Apology after apology left his lips in a stream of steady and coherent gibberish in several languages. He flailed messily to pull himself away from the damned blankets and sheets and only succeeding in tangling himself further, much to his dismay.

A few more moments were spent in the futile effort of freeing himself before he simply sat, tangled and irritated, and glanced up at James with a sheepish grin. “…sorry?” He murmured hopefully. “Please don’t fire me?”

James: Either he was utterly gone, or he was trying to ignore the soft pounding of pain at the back of his skull. The gibberish- that wasn't as gibberish as it could have been to him- was understood well enough but still he remained staring up, managing a soft shudder. There was eventually a perhaps confused murmur about witnessing the birth of new constellations before he closed his eyes and brushed a hand over his forehead. This wasn't his day. Or perhaps it was, despite the pain, despite the incidents that had tumbled their ways left and right, it had been a calm, soothing time. Still, a moment more of his quietness before he offered a murmured... "I'm naked again..." to no one and nothing in particular.

No one would have been foolish enough to hope that the thing that had only been set over his luscious, luscious buttocks and then dragged around to hide his little pride (as if), would have stayed on. He required a relatively long moment more before he focused on his host and chuckled feebly, breathing a soft whimper at the pain it brought, and stared at the ceiling once more, "you're forgiven, I wouldn't fire you for so little, but I'd like for the constellations to stop swimming around... and you're still a sheep."

Nicholas: Nick made a second valiant attempt to free himself and found out the trouble was that his yukata had tangled with the sheets, that was what prevented him freedom. He sat for a few moments and frowned, thinking over the best way until that soft tone reached his ears and he quirked a brow in James’ direction. “Naked?” He blinked and tipped his head to the side, looking very much the curious pup before slipping on his glasses and checking the time, eyes slipping from the clock back to himself and then over to James before nodding, having made his choice.

An important choice that could affect everything within the realm of all dominion…of his room at the very least, this choice would forever change his schedule on the weekends for he was to announce something of the utmost importance. “Well then…it is officially nakey time.” How horridly silly it sounded but there he went, pulling the yukata off and shivering, free but nude.

“Now we are naked together.” The moment that came from his lips his hand snapped up to take the words back up, scoop them back in his mouth and pull them away forever. It sounded horrible when he put it that way. “I mean…we are both in states of undress, we both are sans clothing, but we are not engaging in…oh just shoot me.” He muttered, burying his face in his hands and sighing at his own incompetence. “Well good, point out the north star and the rest seem to fall into place and I am no sheep. I am a nude scholar mediating on the history of clothing.”

James: "Very much so naked..." murmured once more, lashes falling though he opened his eyes again moments later as the damned stars were brighter when his lids were lowered over his ever golden eyes. Though he blinked and next thing he knew, it was nakey time? What the- whose smart idea was that? "You're a strange one, Nicholas... and I think I'd be laughing at your fumbling if my head wasn't throbbing rather painfully.." he offers in a gentle tease, slowly, finally so, pushing himself up until he was moderately seated. "You're... a very, very odd man." the ghost quirk of his lips before he shuddered and merely slid back down slowly and carefully this time.

He blinked at the ceiling again, lifting his good hand and pointing somewhere, no where in particular. "The north star is thataway, and the rest isn't falling into places, you still are a sheep, or maybe just a wolf in sheep's clothing, sans clothing, and I think I'd like to collect now." How unexpected, more than likely even to him as his cheeks flushed just softly. Still he wouldn't take it back, and he hoped that perhaps the 'collecting' would put the dull pain of the floor meeting out of his mind, literally. "And then we could eat a little, maybe... and maybe they're done with my room... not that I want to go, but I feel as if I'm beginning to feel a little homesick.."

How odd, or perhaps only because it had been a few days since he'd last bid his lovely daughter good morning. There was a photo of the young girl on his bedside table, and his lips found the protective glass every morning and night.

Nicholas: “Well yes, you have nothing covering your body so that would make you naked. How you could be more than normally naked is beyond me unless you shaved your body hair and that’s a discussion I’m not getting dragged into. And there’s no fumbling to be had here sir! None at all. I am free of the shackles of my clothing and the sheets. Free at last, free at last, we’re both nude, but we’re free at last…or some such nonsense.” With a wink and a shrug he stood, not caring much at all if the man looked over or not since he was certain that James would not. The man was too busy with his headache. Once up he shook out the sheets, untangling them from his yukata before padding over to sit cross legged close to James and look down into his face in concern.

“I think therefore I am. I have odd thoughts; therefore I am an odd man. It is oft the curse of the geniuses of the world to be thought of as odd, eclectic, eccentric and on occasion mad. While I am no genius I proudly claim all those symptoms. As for your constellations…” He slid his hands up to tip James head back slightly and massage his temples. “Just blink a few times and they should right themselves. I am no sheep, wolf describes me very well thank you and….I beg your pardon?”

The last bit wasn’t something he’d expected to hear just yet and he was more than happy to skip over it to reply to the rest of what was being said, anything to keep himself from thinking, especially since he was currently nude, of the implications of James’ collection of debts. “I can whip something up for us before we take a peek into your room. I’ll scout ahead to make certain that the halls are clear of our nemesis. One never knows where Eric might lurk.”

James: He was about to open his mouth when shaving was mentioned but merely closed it again, letting the constellations be his primary focus until someone would make them go away, and if he couldn't that just left his host but he wouldn't ask. "I think... spending the weekend together will do us both a world of good..." he offered without a chuckle though the sound of his voice made it clear enough he had wanted to. There was nothing to look at, and though he may have wanted to look and stare, he had no reason to and thus didn't, seeming to calm however when he felt the presence draw closer to his side. Why it was calming he didn't know, all that mattered is that it was. Despite earlier predicaments.

"If not a genius, then perhaps a mad scientist..." offered for no reasons at all other than it felt fitting and a soft, faint chuckle did escape him this time, lashes fallen utterly to those hands as he breathed a sigh but did as he was told, knowing that things so simple usually tended to work, and everything Nick had offered so far as 'cures' for most anything that had been brought up had worked wondrously well, so why not this one? "I believe I said I'd like to collect. Merely on the bathroom case. The other two I'll drop... you're the one who said you would be out of your mind worrying that I'd collect at any given time, after all, no?" In class with the students, would have been as funny as it was a bad idea.

"However, I will be more than happy to stomach anything you make and even moreso to let you scout ahead... however I wouldn't mind sitting up just now if you'd care to help me..." well he was talking a bit more, one hand lifting to carefully rub at his eyes. It was difficult to believe they'd slept that long, really.

Nicholas: “I think spending the weekend together has done us a world of good thus far.” Nicholas added his two cents with a soft shrug, continuing to massage James’ temples and waiting for the inevitable panic attack for when he realizes that they’re both nude and that James is his employer. It would come eventually, swiftly, and silently, he would just freeze up for a few seconds, stare at nothing, flush horribly red all the way down to his thighs and then scramble to get dressed. But that was for later, right now he was seeing to James’ headache. He didn’t really want to panic, actually, this was comfortable and he’d appreciate it if his nerves would just give him a break this one time please thank you very much.

His eyes narrowed a bit at the mad scientist comment before he shrugged it off and continued on his earlier line of thought. “I think that another weekend together would do us even more good, wouldn’t’ you say? It’s socializing, the occasional amusing anecdote followed by food, fun, rain if there is any and of course since it’s official because I said it was, nakey time…or should it be naked o’clock? Despite the childishness, I prefer nakey time because it’s a span of minuets rather than a specific hour. Naked o’clock would have to be a certain hour, whereas nakey time would be whenever it was convenient. Yes, I think it shall remain nakey time. Don’t you agree? And as for collecting, collect all you like. Now that I know it’s coming I will submit to the inevitable gracefully for any further protestations on my part may insult you and that’s not in my best interests.”

Nicholas sat for a few long moments, helping James up as he was bid before rolling his lips into his mouth to wet them before letting them roll back out. “…this is the most I’ve spoken in a specific duration of days in…years.”

James: "It has, short of the few mishaps but I believe those were greatly outnumbered by the good that did happen, the good that settled and I... " blinking and trailing off lightly, "I don't think I've been this comfortable around someone else in years..." which was a lot to say in his case, considering his role in the school as a whole. Who could believe that such a man was not as comforted by the presence of others as he seemed to be? Considering the amount of students he saw day in and day out, the amount of teachers, of professionals, staff and faculty alike and all of the rest. "And I was only teasing, Nicholas, I personally don't care much to put titles on people, and even if I had to, Mad scientist doesn't fit you."

Another weekend? Why not another and another too? It could do them some good, couldn't it? "I wouldn't be against spending most of my free weekends in your company, really. It's refreshing." For so many reasons, yes. "And you're rambling, which is incredibly adorable..." couldn't be helped, could it? He did wait until the words were done flowing from those lips, lips he merely wanted to peck for the sake of collecting. He just played fair, the other two didn't count and this one would be off their minds once it was done. "I don't mind hearing you speak, I have my times when it seems as if I have absolutely nothing to say." A slim shoulder lifted as he saw to folding his legs lightly now that he was seated upright.

With that done, he brushed fingers beneath a chin and merely did as he had wanted, a brief, more-than-chaste peck of lips against lips before he was leaning back with a soft chuckle. "Now we're even and you don't have to worry about it anymore." Lifting one hand and rubbing his eyes, he took a look towards the balcony door and stretched. "I haven't slept this long in... forever."

Nicholas: “Look James you don’t have to-” Nicholas would have continued to ramble forever were it up to him, he had his mind set on auto speak and could go on forever about absolutely nothing. It was a talent and a curse; it helped him lecture, to an extent, but also hampered him and made it blatantly obvious when he was nervous or anxious about something. Were he upset the ranting would continue but in a much more unkind way, more sarcastic than anything else. As it was he could have continued on until James fell asleep again and long afterward, and was fully ready to do so until his chin was touched, then he only stuttered a bit and continued about propriety and how they handled things in Italy around the Renaissance about kissing or some nonsense like that until he was actually kissed.

Chaste as the peck was it silenced him and he sat there blinking for a few moments, staring at James and nothing else in the world because it felt as though something inside of him had woken up, broken out of a shell or some wall had come down inside of him…but that didn’t make sense. If something broke or fell in him he’d be in immense pain....He shook his head to bring himself back to the present. “Well…um…I…” After an abrupt shut off he couldn’t get himself started up again and he could only flush and rubbed the back of his neck. “I do often…..not because I’m lazy!” Nick started when it was obvious that it sounded bad. “…just when, you know, I work for a long time and….um…forget to sleep…um…”

James: "I think I found the off button." There was a cant of his head, a soft, gently amused tick to his lips before he chuckled and brushed his fingers along his own bandaged wrist. "I wanted to. I'll skip on the other twos because technically for one I was nearly dozing off, and the other... well reasons or others, those won't count." A soft shake of his head. It didn't matter anyway, the peck was given, received well enough, sort of, and now they were even until it happened again- wait, slow down. Why the hell would it happen again anyway? "And in a week or two more I'll finally have both wrists to my use and I won't be as much trouble as I was today." Because really now, he had been trouble and there was nothing to say about it.

Canting his head again, another quirked smile found its way to his lips and he chuckled, "I'd understood well enough, it's a little unsettling to thing that you would need that much sleep because in turn it means that you overwork yourself, and I can't have any of that now can I? What am I to tell those that surrounded us if you do not show up one morning?" Shaking his head, quiet rambling of his own that made no sense, that meant nothing and that wouldn't mean anything for a while or perhaps never. "Now I think we'd mentioned something about eating and checking in on the other side of the wall, oh stealthily ninja-san." Ninja-san? best not to ask at this point in time, or perhaps we should.... Nah.

Nicholas: All Nicholas could do was sit and blink and start to stutter something before stopping and frowning at himself and then try to speak again, fumble, and then the cycle would repeat. It could go on for awhile but then he decided he’d just sit and listen to James speak for a moment. The man really had a lovely voice. What was said made him smile a little, the man seemed just as uncertain about the kissing as he had felt and he did offer a soft laugh. He could speak again now…he thought. “I think I’ll be in more trouble with you if you can use both hands. Of course that means we could play chess or cards. I think I’d like that. I’ve got an ivory and black marble chess set if you’d like to use it next weekend.” Offering what he hoped to one day give away, he really didn’t have room for the thing.

Food…food! “Right, lunch…breakfast,…brunch? No. Lunch and a dinner, linner? Dunch? I’ll just cook us something.” He sat up and scooped James back into his bed, tucking him into his clothing as he wandered over to his closet and pulled on some drawstring pants before wandering over to his kitchenette. “Anything in particular you’d like? Or should we, in honor of Ninja-san, have something a little Asian?” That made him chuckle and he shook his head. “I knew I should have brought those smoke pellets and throwing stars.”

James: "You may be more in trouble if I have both hands to use but it may as well mean that there will be less of me falling over because my chair decided to be a dumb and evil little thing." a blink and another quiet chuckle. It wasn't his fault the chair was evil! "Though chess? Chess... it's been a few years since I've last played, it could be interesting, I've never been strong on cards otherwise. Though I do have an Othello board somewhere, too." Board games, of any sort, it had been more than years since he'd last played, really, but he'd loved them as a kid, why not now? "It could be interesting, and I'm sure there's somewhere in the depths of my still unpacked boxes," after five years who would have thought? "that could prove interesting."

Linner and dunch? Well those could prove interesting at one point or another. "Just food in general would be good, for whichever meal, I don't think my stomach could tell the difference." He snickers faintly, sheepishly and shook his head, nearly squawking at being scooped and settled back down with a soft frown. Shaking his head once he was over his brief squawking moment, he pondered the question and lifted a shoulder gently. "As I said, anything you may see fit to prepare I think I would be happy to taste. It's a bad habit I've had for years... to no longer prepare myself anything warm for consumption. I need to work on getting over it." Not that it would be easy.

Nicholas: “Or would your chair be more evil because you have two hands to control it?” Nick murmured over his shoulder as he made the ultimate man’s meal. Meat and bread; he had some brisket in the fridge and some buns, there might be some barb b que sauce in the…there it was. “Sloppy Joes.” He offered over his shoulder as he started to cook, humming to himself as he diced the beef and set the sauce in with it in a large bowl. “I wish I had a toaster for the buns, but they’re fine plain.”

Nick set the meat to nuke and padded back over to the bed, laughing to himself. “You make interesting noises when I pick you up. I’m sorry, I remember telling you that I’d warn you when I lifted you up.” A sheepish smile and fingers in his mussed hair were used to express mild embarrassment, Nick really wasn’t sure what to do now.

James: "I'm not used to being picked up. Short of by Eric and even then, when he does it without warning, I mostly just give him a look and mutter irritably.. or so I figure. I guess I haven't been too amiable as far as being in this cursed thing goes. I just don't like it, and it makes me a little iffy or something..." Shoulder lifting with a soft sigh though he calmed at the mention of sloppy Joes. There was something else he hadn't eaten in... well he'd never actually had any. "I'll see about the toaster, or maybe one of those small oven-toaster things." Murmuring to himself now, thinking about things he hadn't realized could have been perhaps useful in rooms, then again, most meals were expected to be taken in the cafeteria.

"It's alright. I should be used to it, how often have you had to pick me up in the last forty eight hours alone, anyway?" a soft chuckle though he was quiet again, "There's a fruit and vegetable market in the town, it isn't too far off, we could always wander that way one weekend, they also have fish and meat, and it changes depending on the season... plenty of our meal ideas come from that market, truth be told."

Nicholas: “Is it my fault you’re so cuddly?” Nick teased, settling on the bed and giving James a lopsided smile. “You squeak, squeal, squawk…it’s amusing and sometimes even cute. Endearing. I understand how disconcerting it must be having someone just pick you up. Really, I do, full grown as I am should I ever be foolish enough to wander back to my hometown and stay with my family It’ll happen. My male relatives are huge.” Another laugh, a little louder and more honest this time as he’s soft when he’s otherwise embarrassed. “And they won’t take no for an answer, so should you ever suffer a fit of madness and want to join me on a trip for the annual family reunion consider yourself warned.”

Off went the beeper and over went Nick, settling the meat on the buns and the buns on plates and plates on a tray before picking up two bottles of water, he didn’t have much else at the time, and wandering over to set the tray by James. “And don’t worry about the toaster, I’ll just buy one on my spare time, I’m certain that most of the other teachers and residents don’t cook in their rooms as often as I do.” It was a habit more than anything else, cooking in his dorm. “I only do because I tend to keep odd hours. I even did it in college, my roommate was dead certain he’d wake up one day to find the room on fire, because we were only allowed low power appliances so I’d cook with an iron sometimes. It’s hard to make good stir fry with an iron.”

James: "I am not cuddly. Nor do I squeal, though I'll admit to having squeaked and perhaps squawked a few times." How unusual, cheeks flushed lightly, head shaken gently. He was in no way cuddly! then again, it wasn't something he could know was it? It had never happened before, it was so.. so comforting in its own way. Shaking his head to clear it off, he shrugged gently, pondering how his sanity would hold surrounded by one Nicholas and many relatives. Oh my. Nope, not going never, not one bit, nope. Blinking, lips curving inward lightly with a chuckle, "Maybe, who knows, spending time with you can't be good for my sanity as is..." teasing lightly, knowing better but still his mind was pondering the notions and he didn't know why.

He started lightly at the beeper but pulled himself carefully back to lean against the headboard, cradling his slightly numb wrist with a frown. Was the damned thing on too tight? If only somewhat if it had taken him this long to realize it was going numb. "I don't mind adding a toaster to your room myself, or to give you mine... I had it taken in after the incident because I didn't want to eat in the cafeteria, so I bought a few more things to make my room more liveable for someone who didn't want to be in public but I never used that very toaster." A soft shrug and a chuckle."I don't want to know how you ever managed to cook stir fry with an iron." The thought along was a little disturbing.

Nicholas: “You are so cuddly, and I’ve made you squeal at least once and if I haven’t I’m fairly certain I can make you squeal before the school year is out.” Nick quipped back, settling on the bed with the tray balanced across his legs and shifting to expand the darned thing so it’ll fit across his and James’ lap. A nifty little thing his brother had made him before…before they broke things off. Irritated or no Nathan was his brother and he was pretty good with his hands and endlessly creative, more so than most men that Nick knew. He had to respect that. “I’ll tell you this much Mr. James Rochemont sir, being with you is doing absolutely nothing positive for my sanity at all, at all. But what’s the matter with being a little mad? It tends to make life interesting.”

There, the thing was expanded and set across both their laps, their plates where they should be and Nick even went so far as to unscrew the top of James’ bottle of water for him, he didn’t want to give the man any more trouble than they’d already had this weekend. “Is your wrist alright?” Nick tipped his head to the side, curious and concerned before reaching out and taking that hand between his own. “You don’t have to, but I would appreciate it as sloppy Joes are so much more interesting when the buns are lightly toasted with a little bit of garlic butter. Mmmmmm. And the stir fry only took a little creativity and a lot of aloe vera. I had a couple…a lot of accidents with the steam setting.”

James: "What am I, a teddy bear? And I do not squeal, I am beyond squealing!" huffed though playful in his words as he shook his head, "I have too much class to be of the squealing kind." mock-pouted this time, followed by a chuckle and another soft shake of his head. Really now, what was going on with him? It was so comfortable to be able to talk this way to someone, anyone really, when all of his life he hadn't even had that much. Features canted, her quirked a grin and wiggled his fingers, "I didn't expect you to be sane at all from the start, so being with me wouldn't be doing your sanity any harm if there was none to begin with, perhaps I had hoped to give you some." There, another quirk of his lips and lift of a shoulder.

A soft smile given when the tray was set properly though he gave it something of a look, curious as to how it worked. A soft start came to when his wrist was taken and he smiled a little uncertainly, "Just a little numb, maybe it's on just a little tight? Barely... if it had been too tight... at least more than it may be now, I would have noticed beforehand, after all.. it's been on since after the bath..." the bath fiasco, so to speak, but they were both on one piece as was. "Well I'm glad you have at least the required basics here to not need to use an iron for such things, really now... that was a dangerous thing you did, stir fry with an iron..."

Nicholas: “No, your name would be Thaddeus were I to call you teddy, as you are called James I will call you Jammie and you are cuddly.” It made no sense, no sense at all and it was a tease of the most childish kind as he unwrapped the wrist, massaged the flesh just below the break delicately and then rewrapped it, making certain not to make it so tight this time. “And no one, man, woman, or child is beyond squealing. There is a point at which everyone will squeal and I do swear that I shall find it eventually.” He chuckled softly and settled back against the headboard of the bed, taking a sip of his own bottle of water. “I have made a happy life for myself while mad, sanity is not all it is cracked up to be.”

He noticed James’ curious look at the tray and offered a soft smile. “My brother made it for me. It’s just trimmed here and here with beanbags and stretches when you press a little nub here. He made it for me when he saw I was spending half my time on the floor studying.” Nicholas trailed off with a soft, almost sad smile, missing Nathan more than he had for a long time…he’d make a note to call or send him a letter. With a soft shake of his head he bit into his sloppy joe, hummed to himself in pleasure and contentment. “Mmmm…these are good. And if you think stir frying with an iron sounds bad you don’t want to know what I used to grill.”

James: "If you call me that, I will have to find some form of horrifying nickname to call you, so you best be warned now." he scrunched his nose lightly and shook his head, "and I still do not believe myself to be cuddly.." though he quieted when his wrist was unwrapped, massaged if delicately and wrapped anew. "Does that mean you will squeal too?" murmured softly, in curiosity this time more than anything else though it seemed now he was settled, gazing at the meal on his lap, so to speak, and listening to the explanation behind the tray that was settled along their laps. A sibling? Right, wasn't there mention of a relatively large family, in the files? Brushing it off, he nodded softly but reached for his bottle of water instead.

"I guess I'm not really familiar with the pleasures of siblings of a real family of any kind, I do have this cousin but we never have any time to spend together, we're just too busy otherwise... said cousin twice as much as I am, really." Trailing off once more, and only when his host had taken a bite of his meal did he do the same with slow, curious motions, and set it back down calmly, "I've never had those... amongst so many things... and no, I don't want to know what you used to grill, I think you'll have me going gray before anyone else." He smirked faintly and seemed to go back to the meal, finding that it was indeed rather delicious in its own strange way and he had no issues with quietly sucking his fingers clean once he was done.

Nicholas: “My, my, is the ever proper head of this fine establishment actually licking his fingers? If I only had a camera on hand, no one would ever believe me.” Nicholas murmured with a soft chuckle though he licked his own clean, even going so far to suck his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean within and pulling them out slowly, savoring every drop of sauce he had with him. With every finger slipped in and then pulled out of his lips he hummed a little, hunger was the best spice after all and he’d been mighty hungry. “I’ll just take it as a compliment that you enjoy my cooking so much. So…we need some proper clothing and then to check in on your home, yes?”

Having spoken his piece he slipped the tray into a smaller size and stepped away from the bed to clean it up, throwing out the trash and washing up what he could before padding back to the bed. “So you enjoyed my sloppy joes?” Nicholas chuckled softly and settled back on the bed. “I’ve actually had a grand time with you this weekend. I’m looking forward to next week. Finishing work early pays off very well it seems.”

James: "No one ever stated that I was fine and proper. I have a fair habit of licking my fingers clean." smirking faintly, if only when there was something good enough on said fingers for him to want to lick them clean, mind you. That very meal had been more than enough for him to indulge in a little finger licking goodness but what perhaps was a little perplexing is that he found himself gazing, not quite staring, as his host did the same, if a little more thoroughly. Why the shiver down his spine? It wasn't as if he was watching something secret, something no one else had ever seen, right? Then why the quiet, unspoken delight? It pulled a soft tick of his lips but was gone just as soon as it had come. "It was very much enjoyed, yes."

Though he nodded slightly, a small part of him not ready to go on back to his own apartment but knowing he had to after all. He simply couldn't spend all of his time here, no matter that it was most interesting and that something tugged at him to stay. No such thing, he couldn't and wouldn't. "Yes, some proper clothing and you playing the grand ninja master and checking first to see if the hallway is cleared, then a look in on my room as I figure it should e ready, which was a shame, I was actually rather enjoying this weekend... next week's end will be just as fine, or so I'm telling myself, in any case. Better perhaps. Doubtful but who knows."

Nicholas: “You seem fine and proper enough for me.” A compliment from a man that was so often in disarray, his eyes brighter than normal with the mischief he had in him. “In any case I’m glad you enjoyed your meal. I can’t help but wonder what I’d be able to do with a full kitchen for you. I know. Sometime this coming week I’ll bake you something sweet. But not too sweet, right? What’s sweet but not too sweet…” He tipped his head back against a pillow and thought for a few moments, running through his options and murmuring things that he knew to make under his breath. After ticking a few items off on his fingers Nick canted his features back to James. “How does tiramisu sound? I think you’d like mine.”

It was nothing special, this offering, and yet it felt like so much more. It seemed like a door held open just for James and no one else. He couldn’t recall offering to make anything for anyone else ever before, he wasn’t like Nathan who built things for any occasion. “Yes…I’ll make you tiramisu. It will take a trip to the market and maybe some of your expressed ninja mastery on my part to sneak into the cooking classrooms to make it because I’m not going to try to cook you something so delicate here. Don’t worry about going to your room, I’ll do the sneaking…you don’t have to go over to your room if it’s ready, I’ll be more than happy to keep you company here, I like having you around. It’s more than pleasant having you here.”

James: "To seem and to be are two very, very different things, my kind friend." A soft chuckle though he more than willingly accepted the compliment as it warmed him in ways compliments rarely did, which was odd and comforting all at once, and he certainly didn't know what to make of it and merely let it slip for the time being. "For the sake of telling you something I suppose I've forgotten to mention, while the student houses don't have such an added feature, there is actually a full kitchen in this dormitory, it's in a locked room and isn't actually on the floor plans. Teachers use it mostly to prepare snacks of would-be delicacies for special occasions, holidays, birthdays." He lifts a shoulder gently, blinking at the mention of a tiramisu.

"An Italian dessert...?" lips ticking briefly, merely thoughtful before he smiled again, "I've never been strong on anything coffee, but there are exceptions to every rule, it could be interesting." He quieted then, pondering once more though he rubbed his eyes. "If anything, if my room is ready I may go over and settle back in bed... I've never slept as long as I have this weekend but there's still a faint need that pulls, maybe the exhaustion from the past five years has finally surfaced and wants to take me under, imagine that." Rolling his eyes before turning his gaze briefly towards the balcony. "Though I can give you that toaster too, if I can find it, hopefully they haven't put everything out of order, that would just be...hn..." sighing softly and shaking his head.

Nicholas: “You don’t need to argue semantics with me James, before I took my trip and changed to a history major I was full up with my studies in the English language. I wanted to be a writer before and I ended up finding that history was my calling, so I am very much aware that ‘to seem’ and ‘to be’ are different. I just chose my words according to the casual environment and how adorable you are when you smile.” An explanation and another compliment rolled into one and Nick had even’ thrown in some back story as well; it felt good, sharing this, offering glimpses of his past and personality. Very few people that he’d met and cared for chose to learn more about him, they never really wanted to and in the rare chance they tried to learn they weren’t people he wanted to be associated with.

“A kitchen? I’ll just tuck down there since this would be considered a special occasion. More than special, singularly exceptional, exquisitely perfect weekend and I look forward to many, many more. I don’t mean to gush at all, really, it’s just…it’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend. You know, a real friend that’s relaxed and comfortable and understands me….and now I sound like a teenager.” Nicholas chuckled softly and shook his head subtly, slipping to look through his cabinets. “I wonder if I have anything you’ll fit in other than that wrap and the sari….I’ll find something, just so you won’t be half nude or mostly nude anymore.”

James: "Majors and studies..." he wrinkled his nose, shaking his head slightly, "considering the amount of tutors I've had, that this school before it was closed is the only true school I've ever really been to short of my first three schools... I've never really studied for a major or anything otherwise... I got out of high school, lost my mind for a few years and found this school again... bought it and made the best with what I knew." He quirked a smile but not without flushing, shaking his head softly as it seems yet another compliment was offered to him. Why offer anything at all? He was nothing special, was he? There was nothing special about him, he was just a man trying to make a living and offering something to other boys who wanted to learn.

Canting his head lightly, he snickered and brushed a hand through his hair. "A locked kitchen to which only I have the key and only I can give the key?" He gazed quietly to his host, as if studying him for a long moment before he merely offered a soft, kind smile, "you're the first friend I've had in years. The last person I was in any way close to was Drake but we're both so busy we don't have time, and then it goes back to high school and my roommate though we mostly just shared hellos and goodnights." Not to mention said roommate had saved his life (pure, pure luck) and the thought had him lifting his hand to brush the scar at his throat. "Well... if you do sneak into my room you very well could bring back something of mine instead, it would be less troublesome, wouldn't it?" Or so it seemed to him, in any case.

Nicholas: “What we know is brought on more by our experiences and individual endeavours than our schooling.” Nicholas offered, smiling at that flush and moving to change in his bathroom, returning shortly in denim and cotton, his favorite clothing on the weekends, remnants of his college life. “I shall now, with catlike tread, sneak unto thine room, dodge within, find you some clothing and hope not to be caught by Eric anytime soon. Hold down the fort!” With a wink and a smile he darted out of his own room halfway before skidding back inside, rummaging around next to the door until he finds what he’s looking for. Slinking back into his room he offered a katana to the younger man with a wink. Then he dashed out into the hallway, skidded out and dipped into the room. A few moments later he slipped back into his own room, looking a little bedraggled but victorious.

“Ha! He tried to chase me around the hall but I evaded capture. On another note your room is quite ready and what little I’ve seen looks to be in order. However if it is not so I will be more than happy to help you set it to rights. It should be simple since you’ve less than I. I’m still not done moving everything around.” He chuckles and pads over to the bed, holding out slacks and a button down shirt. “However! I will only relinquish this clothing if you give me a copy of that kitchen key. I can’t very well bake you tiramisu if you won’t let me in the kitchen. So, do I have your word for a copy of the key, or will you remain nude in my bed?” Nicholas flushed as that sounded much worse than it had within his skull, but he would not be dissuaded. James would remain nude unless he got a promise for a copy of that key.

James: "I would suppose you're right... some just tend to lift their noses a little upon the school when they find out I've no diplomas or little paper slips to display anywhere as a proof that I've done some form of schooling that allow me to run this place right." A slender shoulder lifted once more and he quieted, sulking to himself at his inability to peek into the bathro-... now wait a minute what? That made no sense at all, why the hell would he want to peek in on a grown man getting dressed? Flushing sharply, he shook his head and waved it off, coughing faintly to clear his throat. Really now, what was wrong with him? A fever maybe, it was doubtful but he didn't know what else could explain this. Blinking himself out of his thought when he was joined anew, he chuckled but canted his head, giving another blink at the blade that was offered to him. Taking it without a word, for the sake that it had been offered to him, he gazed at that very blade before looking back up at the return.

"Evading capture is a good thing, I would have grown lonely here all by myself with nowhere to go." Though he nodded at being told his room was ready, a soft half-sigh escaping him. Guess the weekend was over, ish. Now what's this, no clothes unless a double of the key was made? "It's an old fashioned skeleton key, I will not have a double made, but I will let you have the key for the week, there should be no one else to require it as is..." though he held up the blade smoothly, mock-threatening, "and even if I didn't, I don't think you'd have a choice but to give me my clothes, not that I would mind remaining nude and sprawled on your bed. But I don't look good enough for anyone to want this kind of thing anyway. So please, can I have my clothes?" The blade set back down, of course, feature canted as he held his hand out.

Nicholas: “Bah, they’re missing the point, this school is run very well and the boys receive the best education possible, you’re doing a wonderful job.” Nicholas smiled and tipped his head to the side at the blade held up in his direction. “You can’t use that on me. It’s not even battle ready.” His lips part in a wicked grin before relenting and offering the clothing, laying them on the bed close to James. “And to be perfectly honest you are more fit for sprawling in bed, many would call you attractive laid out thusly and I think Eric would say something along the lines of…hmm… ‘haminahaminahamina’.”

Nick offered the requisite facial expression and body language for the phrase. “Yes, that’s what he would say.” Nodding to himself in satisfaction he turned his back politely. “I even went through the trouble of grabbing you a pair of your boxers…” Said boxers were black silk, more of a tease than anything else though Nick would give most anything to have a pair all his own. “After your dressed I’ll just wheel you to your room and tuck you in. Would you like a bedtime story and lullaby?

James: "I appreciate that..." he murmurs softly, offering a smirk to counter the grin offered by his host. "It doesn't need to be battle ready for me to use it... Kendo, top of my class. Different things, but rather similar in many a ways." a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing the katana briefly, almost reverently. He found a soft shudder coursing through him at the mention of Eric however and scrunched his nose lightly, preferring really to not think about it at all if he was given a choice. "Eric has seen me naked more than enough times already that I don't need to imagine or be told of a reaction, it seems all too fitting..." which he cared very little about. But that was for another day.

He brushed his fingers along the boxers and smirked faintly, "I haven't actually worn those in a while... but I won't complain, they're very comfortable, even moreso to sleep... even more now I think...but that's aside the point.." quieting, he went about the task (the somewhat slow task) of dressing himself up. Having only one hand to work with made things a little difficult and by the time the boxers, slacks and button down was on (but not done), he cleared his throat and managed to flush for reasons that were beyond him. "I can't really wait to have both my hands back... though I can do some things, these for the moment are beyond my abilities, so if you please would?" Undoing buttons? Easy. Doing them one handed? AH.

Nicholas: “Then I’ll just take the blade lest you slice me in twain, good sir.” With that Nick relieved James of the katana, handling it lightly and sheathing the blade. “This belonged to Oda Nobunaga as it is, I can’t believe they let me keep it…but the Current head of Japan’s state was very kind, I think it’s because I followed every unwritten rule of conduct. He seemed surprised when I bowed properly.” He chuckled to himself at this and set the katana back on its stand. It always awed him how he was treated due to his reverence of history and historical artefacts; he never took it for granted. “I’ve many such things gifted to me…if the school has a case or place for proper display I wouldn’t mind lending them over.”

It took Nicholas awhile to realize that James was having trouble changing, he slipped over and helped James with the buttons and fastenings of his fly, finishing the dressing process as clinically as he could though he still had a flush to his cheeks. He didn’t know why, didn’t want to know why and as soon as James was dress he offered a murmur. “I’m going to lift you to your chair.” And then James was lifted and into the chair he went. “Ready to go home?”

James: "As if I would dare do such a thing, you know me very little." He teases softly and shakes his head, relieved in some way for the blade to be elsewhere, at least for the time being, it meant if he squirmed just the wrong way, there would be no harm done. And squirm he did, it was hell getting dressed with just one hand and several times he nearly gave up but didn't, frustrated but not that willing to be seen as someone who caved in once things began to grow difficult. Shaking his head softly once more, offering his thoughts only once it seems his buttons were done and fly as well (couldn't believe he'd forgotten that one), he spoke quietly, "We do have casings and displays for those purposes..."

And it would be nice to add anything into those display, wouldn't it? A few students had questioned them at one point or another, as what was there at the moment wasn't the most known of pieces and artefact but he didn't mind, it was fine. Mind drawing back to the present, he flushed faintly when he realized he'd zoned out and was back to his chair. Shaking his head lightly, he brushed a few fingers through his hair and actually moved to settle his feet just so on the foot rest before offering a soft nod. He didn't really. But he knew he had to.

Nicholas: “Then I’ll catalogue all I have to offer and see to displaying them. It’ll free up a good deal of room for me in storage, my office, and in here.” Nicholas murmured as he wheeled James through the hallway and into his room. “Does everything look to be in order?” He took the liberty of wheeling the younger man through his home before finally returning to the bedroom. With every step he moved slower, reluctant to leave James be, to let him alone. He didn’t want to leave his friend just yet but if James was still tired…“Do you really want to rest? I’ll keep you company if you want to remain awake…”

James: Why was the idea of returning to his room painful? It was his room, it shouldn't have been! It had been his haven for the past five, nearly six years! Frowning softly at himself, he did play relatively close attention to his surroundings, as if to try and see if anything seemed amiss. "Everything seems fine... but it's hard to tell from a single look, as time goes by it'll be easier.." his voice soft, almost a little dull. "You can take the evil toaster from the counter, it's all yours..." it showed that his room was all his, the slightly added wall separations, the somewhat different layout of the room as a whole, it had more personality, so to speak.

"Perhaps..." a soft cant of his head, something feeling amiss but it wasn't part of his possessions... "perhaps if you're bored enough you'd like to read to me?" a blink and another soft flush, "not that I cannot read to myself, but..." a soft, light lift of a shoulder. "It always helped when I was younger... despite that I know this is my room, it feels a little foreign..."

Nicholas: “I’ll take the toaster after I see you abed.” Nicholas lifted James for what would be the last time this weekend and set him into his bed, tucking the sheets around him in a motherly way, despite his masculinity, and sat on the edge. “I don’t mind reading to you at all. What would you like to hear as you drift off to the land of Nod?” He looked about for a book and quirked a brow, more than happy to read James to sleep. He’d done the same for everyone under the age of twelve back home so it wasn’t that alien of a concept to him.

James: "It's all yours, just don't call it George, or cuddle it, or wash it, or..." blinking at his own soft ranting, offering a half-smile once he was set in bed and nestling as he could back against his pillows with a soft sigh. "The books are behind the curtains on the far wall, just pull the cord the curtains will pull back..." and even so he had nearly a wall full of books, some of them ageless, old as time, and some newer ones. "Pick anything you want, your voice alone would be just fine to lull me away and don't ask me why, I wouldn't really be able to say, it just feels that way..."

Nicholas: “Well I’d rather name it something like Fred, cuddling metal isn’t a hobby of mine and one has no need to wash a toaster.” Nick quipped back as he padded to the mentioned wall and pulled the cord, eyes going wide with awe at the sheer volume of volumes on the shelves as he walked back and forth, looking for something, anything to read out loud. In the end he chose something a wee bit odd but a favorite of his none the less. “Beowulf. Original old English translation.” He smiled as he padded over to sit on the bed and slowly read the original tongue of the tale, more than happy to read until James was out like a light.

James: A soft chuckle was breathed, lips quirking gently at the reaction to his collection of books. "You should see what I have in storage... and what I have home... and you'd probably get along with my librarian, he's a darling if a little.. well eccentric, maybe. But the library amazes quite a few..." his voice was soft, calm and tired already but he closed his eyes when he was joined again, calming even more once he no longer was alone on that overly large bed. Larger than the other rooms, one would note. It wasn't long before he drifted off, peacefully, breathing slow and steady with the rise and drop of his chest, worry and stress gone from his face as he looked nearly angelic. Nearly. Sleep was a good thing.

Nicholas: When James had fallen asleep Nicholas set the book aside on the end table, slid to his feet and padded out of James’ apartment. He still had a few more runs to storage to make, though he couldn’t wait until the next weekend. He’d have less work on his hands then, and more time to focus on James. It was strange how his employer was also slowly becoming a dear friend, but he didn’t mind. Having a friend at all in this place was wonderful, having one that understood him and his passions was even more wonderful. Ah yes, he couldn’t wait until next weekend.