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Though the sudden, stumbling crash that shook Worth from his stupor could easily have been caused by either of the chronically bespectacled members of their happy little post-apocalyptic family, the litany of squawks and mumbled curses that immediately followed alerted the doctor, without even having to look up, to the approach of the world’s least coordinated vampire.
Worth peered over rims of the thick-framed reading glasses he’d taken to wearing lately, as the downed vampire, who had just tumbled without warning into the dimly lit back room, avoiding falling flat on his face by the grace of an extended forearm that had happened to catch the bed on the way down, rose, grumbling, to his feet. Squinting irritably at the blurry figure, Worth plucked the glasses from their place low on his nose, and discarded them onto the bedside table.
Conrad had pilfered the stupid things from an abandoned hotel a few towns back after he’d spent a week’s worth of consecutive afternoons bitching about his aching head every time his boredom had driven him to pick up one of the vampire’s disgustingly flowery English novels. He’d only actually put them on after several hours of vehement protest, after which Conrad had pinned him to the ground and threatened to duct tape them to his head if he didn’t shut the hell up. Though he’d never admit it to Conrad, wearing them while reading had actually all but completely rid him of his headaches. So he hung onto them and used them begrudgingly every once in a while, regardless of the smug looks Conrad shot his way whenever he caught him wearing them.
“Why din’cha tell me ya were takin’ up ballet, Princess?” Worth said as Conrad finally regained his footing. “I really gotta hand it to ya, yer form is nothin’ short of impeccable.”
“Shut up,” Conrad groaned, rubbing his elbow and pulling the door closed behind him. “It’s not my fault Hanna still hasn’t figured out how to pick up after himself. It’s been, what, a year? Two years in this fucking camper now? And still, fucking garbage everywhere all the goddamned time…”
“Ain’t vamps supposed to have some kinda night vision anyway?” Worth grinned, ignoring Conrad’s irritated grumbling. “Ain’t no use in blamin’ everyone else fer tha fact that yer just tha saddest excuse fer a bloodsucker that ever lived. Or unlived rather.”
“Ha.”
The vampire in question bared his single fang and turned to pull open a drawer of their shared dresser. Granted, Conrad’s things took up a good five and a half of the drawers, while all of Worth’s could be crammed the back corner of one, but it was still technically shared nonetheless.
“Hilarious. Be sure to remind me you said that next time you’re about to be shot to death by yet another angry mob trying to run us out of town. Maybe it’ll give me the good sense to at least think twice about saving your sorry ass for the millionth time.”
“Aw darlin’ now why would I deny ya yer only opportunity ta be useful? Not that yer little housewife routine ain’t cute and all, but let’s face it, ya’d be bored outta yer damn skull if ya didn’t have a lil ass savin’ to getcha outta tha kitchen every once’n a while. Ya should be thankin’ me if anythin’.”
“Gee, you’re so thoughtful,” Conrad said dryly, rolling his eyes but not looking up from what he was doing. He carefully shut the drawer he had been digging through and opened another just below it.
Worth snorted and turned back to the magazine, flipping a page indifferently as his companion continued to mutter inaudibly to himself, sifting obstinately through the drawers of clothing. He probably wasn’t even actually looking for anything, Worth thought, grinning so himself and flicking his eyes up to glance at Conrad’s back. The neurotic fag had been holed up in some mayor’s house with Hanna and – fuck, Knox, was it today? – talking politics and making nice for something like three hours now. Hotheaded idiot probably just needed someone to be rude to before his asocial little brain imploded from anxiety. Worth wondered briefly if he ought to offer some kind of retort, goad the man into a brief scuffle to take his mind off things. But fuck it, he thought, returning his attention to the story he’d been halfway through reading when he was so rudely interrupted. If Conrad wanted an argument, he’d have to come after it his damn self. He could provide derisive remarks and banter until the Earth stopped spinning, but what was the point if Conrad didn’t have the common decency to at least reciprocate? Screw him.
But after a good five minutes of the tightly wound vampire tossing clothes around and mumbling curses under his breath to no one in particular, Worth was finding it harder and harder to ignore him.
“Christ, wot th’ fuck’re ya doin’ over there?” he said, dropping the magazine into his lap. “Ain’t ya supposed ta be inside, helpin’ Hanna and Dead Guy set up trade relations with the Good Town’a Atoka ‘r some shit?”
“Yes I am,” Conrad replied irritably, slamming yet another drawer shut and turning to face the blonde for the first time. “And so are you actually, though I see you have yet again chosen to neglect your responsibilities in favor of sitting around reading Playboy like a disgusting pig.”
“Hey, I’m readin’ it fer tha articles!” Worth replied, stabbing a finger in faux indignation at the glossy photograph of a busty woman in a leather catsuit adorning the front cover. “Ya just don’t find works of true literary genius like this now’days. Yer welcome ta join me if ya like darlin’. I was jus’ in the middle of one called ’Merican History XXX’, ‘bout a lovely lady an’ her dashin’ history professor, who–“
“Charming. But you know, I think I’ll pass,” Conrad said, face twisting in disgust. Christ, who the fuck did he think he was fooling with his whole ‘I’m straight’ thing. Worth grinned.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re not inside helping Hanna sell us as a troupe of semi-legitimate businessmen. Would it kill you to at least pretend to give a shit for an hour or two?”
“Prob’ly.” Worth crossed his arms. “Why tha hell would I waste my night kissin’ up ta another stick-up-his-ass politician when I got a whole boxful’a pure, printed gold waitin’ fer me back here?”
“Whatever,” Conrad retorted rather lamely through clenched teeth and turned back to the dresser, dropping to his knees, and pulling open the only drawer he had yet to check.
“So what’re ya doin’ back here then Princess?” Worth asked, pulling himself a little more upright so he could still see Conrad on the floor. “I din’t expect ya back fer another couple’a hours at least. My nice relaxin’ evenin’s gettin’ all shook up.”
“Well if you must know,” he said, voice slightly muffled. “We are apparently going to be sleeping at the mayor’s house today–“
“See, ‘s a good thing I stayed out here after all.”
“–as a sign of trust and good will or something. So I am, uh, looking for socks.”
“Socks?” Worth repeated after a moment of silence, eyebrow creeping towards his hairline in disbelief.
“Yes Worth, socks,” Conrad said, sighing and letting his hands fall to his thighs, leaning back from the dresser in defeat. “It’s cold and not everyone here has the luxury of a circulatory system.”
“Well wot tha fuck’s takin’ ya so long? Ya got a million damn pairs’a socks, fuckin’ matchin’ an everythin’!”
“No I’m…” Conrad broke off, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I’m looking for specific ones! The…you know…warm ones. They’re blue and…fuzzy.”
“Wait,” Worth said, brow furrowing. “Ya don’t mean thesedo ya?”
He detangled a leg from the sheets and stuck it in the air, long skinny twig of a limb capped off by a puff of synthetic blue fuzz. He wiggled his toes and grinned as Conrad’s mouth fell open.
“Yes! Fucking…Why didn’t you say something?” the vampire growled, making a swipe for Worth’s foot, only to have it pulled out of his reach as a grin spread slowly over the blonde’s face. Oh this could definitely be fun… “I just wasted a full 10 minutes looking around for them like an ass and here you are…”
“Well mebbe ya should try askin’ nex’ time, Princess!” Worth laughed, swinging his legs over the opposite side of the bed as Conrad scrambled to his feet. “I thought these were Hanna’s anyway!”
“They were but he…oomf–gave them to me! Come on will you just give them back?” Conrad implored, voice hilariously winded and desperate after having just fallen flat onto the bed, clawing at Worth’s arm. “I need to get back inside, I’ve been gone long enough as it is.”
“Hmmm, I dunno about that now Connie,” Worth said in mock thoughtfulness, pulling off the offending socks and jumping off the end of the bed, away from Conrad’s reach. “Ya were bein’ awfully rude ta me earlier. Mebbe I should jus’ keep ‘em.”
“Jesus Christ are you really doing this now? Really?” Conrad glared at him from the middle of the bed, standing on his knees, hands on his hips. Christ, what a priss.
“Mebbe,” Worth taunted, holding the stupid fuzzy socks as high above his head as he could reach as Conrad lunged off the bed. “I guess tha’ depends.”
Mid swipe, Conrad suddenly froze, eyes locked on the doctor’s face as if contemplating something. Then, much to Worth’s surprise, he sighed and dropped his arms, giving up on trying to stretch his average sized frame to match the doctor’s towering spindliness.
“Depends on what?” he asked, crossing his arms. Worth’s heart leapt a little in spite of himself. Honestly, he hadn’t expected compliance quite so quickly. Wasting no time, his free hand shot out, catching in Conrad’s shirt and whirling the startled vampire around, slamming him against the door before he had time to process what was happening. Distantly he heard another of Hanna’s many piles of belongings tumble over in the other room as Conrad’s back collided hard with the thin wall.
“I think tha’d be on you Princess,” Worth crooned, looming over Conrad’s shrinking form.
As the sudden realization of what exactly was going on crashed down around him, Conrad’s face contorted into something that looked to Worth like a mix between blood boiling fury and constipation. He smirked.
“Are you fucking serious?” Conrad hissed, glancing around nervously as if someone might see them.
“Sure, why not,” Worth replied coolly, left hand pinning a pale hip firmly against the wall while his other dangled the socks a foot or so above the seething vampire’s head. “Like ya said, ‘s cold out sweetie. Ya want me ta sit here’n brave tha elements, bare feet’n all, yer gonna hafta make it worth my while.”
Conrad gritted his teeth, shoulders tensed as if it was taking every ounce of his self-control not to punch Worth right then and there. If he was being honest with himself, Worth was almost certain the only reason Conradhadn’t punched him in the face yet was because that would have been even more likely to lead to the outcome the doctor clearly desired.
“I’m not…” Conrad appeared to struggle with himself for a moment before he could get the words out. “I am not going to fucking…make out with you or feel you up for a goddamned pair of socks, Jesus Christ, I don’t need themthat badly…”
“Aw c’mon, I ain’t askin’ fer much. Ain’t even askin’ ta be felt up. Though I wouldn’ say no if ya were offerin’…”
“No.”
“Alright, alright I was jus’ kiddin’, Christ, keep yer hair on. Jus’ one lil’ kiss then. ‘S all I’m askin’.”
“This is so incredibly stupid.”
“Jus’ one kiss and the stupid socks are yers. C’mon.”
He was met with a lingering silence as Conrad considered him carefully, the heavy set of his eyes and shoulders weakening slightly under Worth’s imploring gaze.
“God,” he said finally, breaking down under the prolonged eye contact. “If…if I do this, you swear you’ll shut up and give them to me? No more screwing around?”
“Cross my heart’n hope ta die,” Worth grinned crookedly.
“Christ, you are insufferable,” Conrad muttered, then grabbed a fistful of the doctor’s shirt, yanking him down to bridge the gap between their faces, and crushed their lips together.
Worth nearly dropped the socks in surprise as Conrad’s mouth appeared suddenly over his own. Brought back to earth slightly by the twisting grip of cool fingers clutching at his t-shirt, he struggled to blot out the sound of his own racing pulse from his head. He hoped vaguely, somewhere in the back of his paralyzed mind, that Conrad was distracted enough to not have noticed the obvious uptick in tempo. The hand on Conrad’s hip slackened slightly as Worth’s eyes slid shut, lips working mindlessly against Conrad’s, his tongue pressing into the vampire’s mouth, “accidentally” sliding over his fang, spilling just the tiniest bit of blood into both of their mouths, their hips somehow ending up pressed together despite the awkwardness of the angle. A dull buzz filled his ears, his mouth, his chest, drove all conscious thought from the doctor’s brain.
And then the tepid warmth of Conrad’s habitual breath was gone. Worth opened his eyes, blinking once in hazy confusion. His heart was still pounding and he felt ever so slightly shaken by the suddenness of both Conrad’s acquiescence and subsequent withdrawal. Their faces were still close, far too close, and he registered dimly that the barest hint of a flush tinged the marble white of the vampire’s cheeks. Belatedly, Worth remembered through his daze why Conrad was still staring expectantly at him.
Without further comment, he dropped the socks into Conrad’s startled hands and pushed himself back, away from the wall and vampire pressed temptingly against it.
“Uh,” Conrad’s voice came out stilted and awkward. “I…thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t mention it faggerella.”
The vampire’s face, previously uncomfortable, but relatively benevolent considering the situation, twisted once more into raw irritation.
“Oh and one more thing before I go,” Conrad added, catching Worth’s arm before he could wander back to his magazine, and punching him hard in the stomach.
“That was more than ‘jus’ a lil kiss’, asshole,” the vampire said, voice caustic with annoyance and something that might have been uncertainty, as Worth collapsed cursing to the floor. But the blonde couldn’t help but grin, even as his stomach started throbbing for entirely different reasons than it had been before.
“Heh, you liked it.”
Conrad rolled his eyes and turned to leave.
Worth remained limply on the floor as the dull pain faded from his lower abdomen, waiting for the sound of the door creaking open and slamming shut, of pointy-toed loafers stomping across the floor into the fading night, of the static silence that inevitably followed every time Conrad exited a room. But none of them came. He glanced up, still clutching his stomach.
“The fuck?” Conrad grimaced, jiggling the knob. “It’s…stuck…”
“God yer a fuckin’ pansy,” Worth grunted, pushing himself to his feet and knocking the vampire away. He yanked hard at the handle. Nothing. Backing up a few paces, he turned and threw a shoulder against the thin wood. Still nothing. He was just winding up to deliver a firm kick to the flimsy paneling when Conrad intercepted him, hands flapping in distress.
“Well don’t break the door down!” Conrad shooed Worth away irritably, trying the handle again. “It’s not like we can just buy a new one if you shatter it to pieces.”
The doctor grunted and reluctantly relinquished control to the vampire, whose supposed supernatural strength seemed to be doing him little good here.
“It feels like…something’s….blocking it…”
Worth hung back to watch Conrad push frantically at the door, hurling himself against the thin wood with a sudden, inexplicable desperation. He dropped back onto the bed, surveying the situation with amusement.
“I think something–” Slam. “Fell–“ Slam. “Across–“ Slam. “The doorway, Jesus CHRIST.”
Conrad whirled around to find Worth staring at him, eyebrow quirked in amusement.
“Havin’ fun over there?” he snickered, crossing his arms as Conrad stepped away from the door, huffing in frustration. “Please, don’ stop on account’a me, Princess.”
“Would you PLEASE do me the honor of shutting up for just a few minutes?” Conrad rounded on him, hands balled into fists at his sides as if restraining themselves with difficulty from swinging out once again and colliding with Worth’s jaw. “This is serious you asshole, we are trapped in here for God knows how long and AS PER USUAL you are treating everything like a big goddamn joke!”
Worth shrugged, leaning back onto his elbows as Conrad began to pace in the narrow area of carpet that connected one wall of the camper to the other. Christ, he could practically feel the waves of anxiety that guy gave off radiating his brain.
“It don’t make no difference ta me,” he said, scooting back and reclaiming his now slightly crumpled magazine. “’S not like I was plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon anyway. Wha’s tha big deal?”
“The big deal,” Conrad hissed, pausing his frantic tempo to snap his gaze towards Worth, lounging back on the bed. “Is that I’m supposed to be in there, actually helpingfor a change and instead I’m stuck in here with you and the sun is going to be coming up soon, meaning that my window of opportunity to get out is getting smaller by the second, and you know as well as I do that the socio-political structure of the entire Deep South is basically a teetering house of human fucking cards, ready to collapse and start shooting people to death at the slightest lapse in form and etiquette and if I don’t get back in that FUCKING house Mr. Whatever The Fuck His Name Is might jump to the conclusion I’m gathering some army of undead heathens to take control of Who Gives A Fuckville, Tennessee or something equally ridiculous, and then we’re all going to have to add another entire county to our ever growing list of ‘Places To Avoid If We Want To Stay Alive’, all because you couldn’t stop being a dick for ten. Fucking. Minutes.”
Worth stared back, utterly nonplussed.
“An’ ya still came back here. Ta get socks.”
Conrad stood very still, muscle jumping beneath his eye, fists clenching and unclenching, white knuckles darting in and out of the sleeves of his sweater. Then he burst into peals of shrill, hysterical laughter.
Worth leaned back in surprise. He had expected to be punched in the face. Could have dealt with a fistfight, or getting pinned down on the floor by the throat (preferably both). The shrill, echoing laughter that made his ears ring in the small, enclosed space, he had not bargained for.
“Yes Worth,” Conrad said, hiccupping slightly and wiping tears from his eyes as the last of the manic giggles died in his throat. “Yeah I guess I did.”
And without another word he leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, silently squeezing the bridge of his nose under his glasses, leaving Worth to wonder with vague discomfort, exactly what the fuck had just happened.
~
By the second hour of their incarceration, much to Worth’s chagrin, Conrad had taken to screaming in an increasingly ear shattering fashion at the boarded up window. The doctor turned a page in his third and final magazine, not bothering at this point to do much more than roll his eyes at each renewed shriek.
“HANNA GOD DAMMIT I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! THE HOUSE IS LITERALLY SIX FEET AWAY WOULD YOU OPEN YOUR FUCKING EARS? HANNA! HANNA!”
“Ya’ve been yellin’ fer a good twenny minutes straight now Connie, ain’t no one comin’ ta save ya,” Worth said dryly, looking up and twisting a bony index finger into his ringing ear. “Looks like yer just gonna hafta wait ‘til mornin’. Evenin’ rather. Damn shame.”
“Even if he was asleep already he should have woken up by now, God. He’s a heavy sleeper but not this heavy,” Conrad said sourly, sinking back to the floor and wrapping his arms around his knees. Initially, his cries for help had been loud but politely insistent, careful to maintain at least some level of cordiality so as not to offend the big shot mayor and his family. But as time wore on, so did Conrad’s nerves, and his temper had eventually, and oh-so-uncharacteristically, snapped. “He wakes up every damn time I trip over his trash, but theone time we actually need him he’s nowhere to be found. Typical.”
“Like I said, damn shame.”
Worth flicked a page viciously.
Conrad glanced up, vaguely surprised.
“What’s your problem?” he snapped.
“Problem? I don’t got a problem, Princess; sure seems like you do though.”
The doctor didn’t look up from his magazine, still flicking slowly from page to page, though he’d stopped reading long ago. He’d mostly only kept up the pretense in the hopes that it would annoy Conrad into some kind of confrontation, but thus far his ladyship Connie appeared to have little interest in anything but screaming for their nonexistent rescue. In his peripheral vision, Conrad shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of what to say.
“I–what are you talking about?”
“Well it’s been somethin’ close ta two hours now and civil war still ain’t broken out. Clearly the good mayor don’t really give a shit if yer there or not. And yet here ya are, still screamin’ yerself hoarse, poundin’ on that window like someone’s actually gonna hear ya.”
“Your point being?”
“My point bein’,” Worth said flipping the magazine shut with venom and tossing it limply onto the sheets beside him. “Wot tha hell gives?”
“Wait wait wait, excuse me? Are you seriously getting pissy because I’m less than pleased with being trapped in the back of a freezing RV for half a day?”
“I ain’t pissy,” Worth’s eyes narrowed. What a goddamned hypocrite, accusing other people of being pissy. Christ, as if Conrad wasn’t the one that spent a good 9/10ths of his waking hours acting like a teenage girl on her period. “I just think yer fulla bullshit.”
“I’m full of bullshit?” Conrad demanded, voice taking on that telltale shrill intonation, eyes wide with the sudden, sparking rage that Worth knew so well. Any other time he might have grinned, prodded, seen how long it took to make him shriek with fury and disintegrate into swinging fists and hurled insults. But his amusement at the situation had long since faded, worn away by Conrad’s hours of pacing and pathetic screams for help.
“Tha’s wot I said Princess: yer fulla bullshit,” Worth said, pulling himself upright and staring Conrad dead in the eye. “First ya come crashin’ in here in the middle of some big important dinner party, lookin’ for socks of all things. Then ya gimme this whole song’n dance about how you just gotta get back’r else they sky’s gonna start fallin’ again, but still somehow ya manage ta find the time to play keepaway for ten minutes. An’ even when the sky doesn’t come crashin’ down at the absence of yer benevolent and holy presence, yer still actin’ like bein’ but outta commission fer an afternoon is the end’a the goddamned world. ‘F I didn’t know better Connie, I’d say ya just don’ wanna be stuck in a room with me.”
Conrad gaped blankly at him, mouthing like a beached fish in the silence. Worth crossed his arms and waited for a response.
“Well no!” Conrad said indignantly, finding his voice once more. “No I don’t want to be stuck in a room with you, because stuck implies an inability to leave at will. I hardly think that an aversion to being locked in a room with no possibility of escape for extended periods of time is unreasonable or uncommon.”
Worth just stared. Conrad chewed his lip, the silence rattling his fragile little nerves, Worth was sure.
“Oh like you’re not the…King of Bullshit yourself!” he burst out finally. “What the fuck was that earlier? Demanding I kiss you in exchange for socks? What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you even…”
“Wha’s the big deal? ‘S not like we ain’t done more’n that before.”
The faint flush reappeared in Conrad’s cheeks, his eyes narrowing in embarrassment.
“That’s not the point!” he snapped. “The point is that it’s always games with you! Christ, every little thing has to be a big production, this big joke where I’m always the punchline. You just do things and say things and I don’t even know what they even mean half the time anymore! God, why can’t you just…”
That look was back. That constipated look that was like fury and irritation and confusion and a million other things that Worth didn’t have time to identify, all rolled into one, was etched across Conrad’s face as he struggled for words.
“Just…be normal?”
They stared at each other in silence for several long moments. It was a good question, Worth knew. A fairly legitimate request. Why couldn’t he just be normal? Why couldn’t they just be normal? It wasn’t as though there was some higher social expectation on either of them now that the world had come crashing down around their ears. No reputations to uphold any longer, no accusatory gazes to avoid, no judgment to fear other than their own and each other’s. So what then were they both so afraid of?
The silence stretched under the weight of the unspoken words and thoughts they couldn’t, wouldn’t address.
Finally Worth spoke.
“Heh. Could ask the same of you, Princess.”
Conrad just looked at him, face pensive, inscrutable.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah I guess you could.”
“Well look,” Worth said, clearing his throat and cutting brusquely through the lingering silence. “My guess is that tha sun’s already been up fer a while by now, and since I figure no one’s gonna be comin’ back here ta find us until it heads back out again, I’m goin’ ta sleep. Join me’r don’t, but I’m fuckin’ tired.”
Conrad just sat quietly on the floor, apparently deep in thought. He didn’t look up when Worth leaned over to flick off the bedside lamp that had illuminated his earlier reading, or when he pulled his shirt off, leaving it crumpled on the floor at the vampire’s feet.
Worth rolled over, eyes still wide, staring into the cloudy darkness that had replaced their dresser and the walls that held it. He hadn’t lied when he said he was tired. Just a different kind of tired. The kind of tired that would likely keep him awake for a few hours to come, and that would make him toss and turn and awaken in the evening with dark circles still under his eyes and unease deep in his skin.
So preoccupied was he with his own exhaustion that he almost didn’t notice Conrad getting to his feet behind him, and sound of crumpling fabric as his shoes were kicked off and sweater discarded.
But he definitely noticed the shift and creak of the bed as a second body settled in beside him. And the cool arm that very hesitantly slid over his side and around his waist, coming to rest atop his own arm as Conrad pressed closer to him.
“It’s still cold in here,” the voice at his back murmured, almost imperceptibly, by means of explanation.
“Mm.”
Worth finally allowed his eyes to close, feeling his shoulders and stomach relax a little as a forehead nudged gently into his back. He still wasn’t particularly ready to sleep, but all the same, he supposed this wasn’t too bad.
~
Worth was awakened hours later – much longer than he had expected to remain unconscious – by the periodic sounds of crashing and banging from the main room, punctuated by and endless stream of chatter from an all too familiar voice.
“Woah man I didn’t even know this came off the wall! Er, well I guess it’s not really supposed to, so I was kinda right, but I would have thought it would be a lot harder to knock over, jeez!”
As more crashing, scraping sounds erupted from the adjacent room, Worth blinked the sleep from his eyes, slowly waking, but still unwilling to move. What was Hanna doing? It seemed like he was trying to get into the back room, which was definitely unusual. Worth wracked his brain trying to remember what had happened the previous night. Something about socks? And…
He became suddenly very aware of the heavy, cool mass curled up beside him, one arm still pressed limply against Worth’s side. Oh yeah. That.
Shaking his head blearily, Worth pushed himself upright to survey the situation. Somehow, probably as a result of Worth’s tossing and turning, Conrad’s arm had come dislodged from around his waist as they slept, but their fingers remained twined together in the sheets. His eyes passed over the spidery tangle of phalanges, tan and marble white outlined starkly against the blue sheets. He grunted and turned away, quickly extricating his hand from Conrad’s and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
And not a moment too soon, it turned out, as Hanna chose that moment to burst through the door, tumbling into the back room over the piles of accumulated belongings that littered the floor. Beside him, Conrad jolted awake, flying immediately upright as the red head wasted no time in launching into his usual, enthusiastic babbling.
“Holy shit, how long were you guys back here?” he asked, eyes wide, then plowed on without waiting for an answer. Worth glanced over at Conrad, who looked vaguely as though he were on the verge of a stroke.
“I didn’t come looking for Connie when he wandered out here before bed because I figured he’d just decided to hang back in the RV for some reason and I didn’t want to like, bother you two or anything, but jeez I guess you were just stuck back here all along! Sorry about that bros! Man I didn’t even know something like that waspossible, here check it out…”
Worth just stared, bemused, irritated, and still half asleep, as Conrad leaned over shakily to retrieve his sweater and pull it quickly over his head. Hanna meanwhile, was rummaging around in the piles of junk behind him, eventually turning up a battered looking broom.
“It looks like this somehow fell over and got stuck on the fire extinguisher, then a whole bunch of other stuff fell over and wedged the whole doohickey in the doorway or something. Man, I almost wish Ripley’s Believe It Or Not was still a thing that existed because this is one for the record books. I mean I’m a magician and I’m still having a hard time–“
“Hanna,” Conrad said, steely voice cutting off the end of Hanna’s rambling commentary. Hanna fell silent, eyes going wide as Conrad stood and drew himself up to full height, which admittedly wasn’t much, but he still loomed over the diminutive red-head by quite a wide margin. The doctor crossed his arms and remained silent, making no move to stop the fuming vampire, but readying himself to intervene should things get violent. Which he didn’t expect them to, he very much doubted that Conrad, no matter how pissed he was, would stoop to punching Hanna out, but one could never really be sure with him. His anger was predictable, but he could get fairly unpredictable when angry.
“I screamed. Out that window. For an hour.”
Hanna swallowed hard, backing up as Conrad advanced on him. Rolling his eyes, Worth pulled himself to his feet and followed, leaning heavily on the doorway as Conrad rounded on their wise and incredibly panicked looking leader in the main room of the camper.
“That house. Is within spitting distance. Of this camper. Where. The fuck. Were you?”
Hanna glanced around nervously, complexion plunging to deep red as he oh so surreptitiously glanced out the camper door, searching for his undead bodyguard, who, lucky for Conrad, appeared to be nowhere in sight.
“You see,” he said, chuckling nervously as Conrad seethed. “There’s a really funny story about that, um, well not that funny, I guess but–“
“Hanna.”
“Um yeah well there was this one night a few weeks ago and you know I’m not judging or anything! But uh…things were getting a little…loud back there…and Knox and I were getting a little uncomfortable, so I might or might not have put a soundproofing spell on your guys’ room?”
Worth whipped his head around to look at Conrad, whose jaw had gone slack, his entire body visibly deflating like a balloon with a needle rammed through it.
“It was only supposed to be temporary!” Hanna added quickly, face now crimson as his hair. Conrad seemed to be collapsing slowly in on himself like a dying star. “Just for…you know…the comfort of the RV as a whole. I wasn’t going to tell you about it and it should have worn off by now, I don’t actually know what happened, but I guess I’ll just…be more careful…next…time…“
His voice trailed off, leaving a ringing silence hanging in the camper as the three of them stared at each other. Then Worth exploded with laughter.
“Oh my fuckin’–“ he gasped, knees colliding with the floor, clutching his sides as Conrad covered his face.
“Right,” the vampire finally said, speaking through his fingers and over Worth’s sounds of uncontrollable mirth. “Right. Hanna, get Knox, we are leaving in ten minutes whether you are ready or not.”
Then he stalked off to the front seat, avoiding all eye contact along the way.
“Oh Christ,” Worth said moments later, laughter finally subsiding. Hanna eyed him warily but said nothing, looking sheepish as he rose shakily to his feet. “Christ, I need a fag. One that don’t talk so damn much.”
Grabbing his crumpled package of makeshift cigarettes from the counter he brushed himself off, shoulders still shaking periodically with spontaneous chuckles, and wandered back to the bedroom, shutting the door on Hanna’s embarrassed glances and Conrad’s stony humiliation. He never did get around to finishing that magazine…