Continuation from fagsona thread

[bleedingeffect]

The other patrons seemed to be just as drunk to notice or care, which Desmond noted with a small feeling of relief. It's not like it was uncommon, anyway, and he had no one to prove himself to as it was. (Except maybe the waitress, who constantly teased him that he he needed a girlfriend.)

"So, eleven," he reminded Shaun. "And don't forget your tab before we go, pal."

Though Desmond had half a mind to make the asshole who ruined his wingman plan pay for Shaun's tab, it'd probably get him fired. He could pay for the girls' drinks, though...

Comments

[shaunhastings]

"Take a left blocks from here," Shaun said. "Then go down four blocks, it should be right there."

did koba make you tag me

[bleedingeffect]

"Got it," he said back, revving up the motor of his bike despite Shaun's complaints. He told him five minutes, after all.

Despite the speed, Desmond was a good driver - he stopped where the law demanded, and took the turns carefully. After about four minutes, they were one block away. For the finale of their ride, Desmond whizzed around the corner, pulling a fast 180 at Shaun's destination, screeching to a halt. He couldn't help teasing him.

yes

[shaunhastings]

Shaun prying his arms from around Desmond’s waist could be likened to trying to straighten two frozen poles of iron. Gradually, he slid off the bike, stumbling forward before coming to his feet. He grasped at the air as if reaching for something to support his balance. “You,” Shaun sputtered out. “You are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

I knew it

[bleedingeffect]

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice," Desmond laughed. He leaned back on the seat, his feet on the ground holding up the bike. The hotel they were at was indeed old. (He wondered for a moment if Shaun enjoyed that about it, considering his knack for history.) It was bordering on creepy, but the front looked groomed enough to be comfortable. The place as a whole was almost unnoticeable; it blended right in with the neighboring buildings. He probably wouldn't think about the building twice had he passed by on any other day.

"You better get some rest."

[shaunhastings]

“I,”
Shaun cut himself short, and in a feat of what seemed to be total whimsy, turned and launched himself into the cover of the nearest bush. There, he proceeded to puke his guts out. Desmond likely didn’t intend to dizzy anything more than Shaun’s head, but it seemed that last little stunt had shaken up the drinks inside of him as well.

“Ugh,” Shaun wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.

[bleedingeffect]

Desmond winced.

"Oops," he mumbled. Well, vomiting was probably inevitable with the amount Shaun drank, but he still felt a little guilty. "You, uh... gonna be okay?"

[shaunhastings]

"I'm fine," Shaun said. "Better."

"Uh... Thanks," he continued. "For the ride, I mean. Not for that last bit."

[bleedingeffect]

"No problem. Um. Here."

Desmond fished in his pocket for some napkins - just a couple he had gathered up from the bar. He held them out to Shaun, before worry crossed his face.

"...You didn't get puke on my helmet, did you?"

[shaunhastings]

"Oh right," Shaun said, snapping the napkins out of Desmond's hands. "I'm over here losing my guts and you're worried about your helmet. Of course your helmet is fine, it's on my head."

[bleedingeffect]

"Hey, it could've gotten on it," he scoffed. "Besides, I've known it longer than you. Of course I'll worry about it."

Desmond leaned to the side, toeing the kickstand down and getting off his bike.

"Need help beyond here?" Desmond offered, at the very least.

[shaunhastings]

"Here, take it," Shaun said, offering up the helmet once he had cleaned himself off.

"And I believe I can manage from here on out."

[bleedingeffect]

With a nod, Desmond warily took the helmet back, examining it before he put it on. (He even gave it a cautious sniff.)

"Good," he said, adjusting the helmet to be snug. "Well, uh. It was nice meeting you, Shaun."

[shaunhastings]

"Yes, I wouldn't normally say the same for someone as simple as yourself," Shaun replied in dismissal. "But I suppose you were helpful. Thanks."

[bleedingeffect]

Simple? What was that supposed to mean?

With a frown, Desmond reassembled himself on his bike, turning the key and getting a clunky noise in return. He stared down at it, turned the key again, and got the same fruitless whir of the machinery before it silenced again. He leaned over, looking at the small dash of his motorcycle. The gas needle pointed mockingly at E. Great. I forgot to fill up.

"Shit," he groaned. "I can't believe this."

[shaunhastings]

Shaun, who was mid-way to the apartments doorstep before he heard an awful grinding noise airing off of Desmond's bike, turned to look.

"Is there a problem?"

[bleedingeffect]

"Um," Desmond began to call out, "No. I'll just drag it to the nearest gas station."

[shaunhastings]

"You're out of gas?" Shaun said in disbelief. "Good God, you really are simple."

[bleedingeffect]

"You're simple," he said back, indignant despite not paying attention to the argument at hand as he steered his bike around. It was easy now, but a mile down the round, this would probably get tiring.

[shaunhastings]

For awhile, Shaun just watched Desmond lug his bike down the street. Not until Desmond had almost reached the end of the block did he decide to intervene. Shaun, quite hesitantly, has decided to extend an invitation to Desmond. It was the only decent thing to do, after all (though Shaun was half hoping Desmond wouldn't take him up on it).

"The station is a ways from here, isn't it?" Shaun called out. "I can have Rebecca bring you a tank when she comes back."

[bleedingeffect]

Desmond hesitated, and Shaun would probably be pleased to see that he was leaning towards 'no', but after he heaved a sigh he said, "Sure."

He wheeled it back around, giving it a glare as he did for the trouble. Well, good to see Shaun was a good person after all, offering help in return. (How little he knows, though.)

"I can just wait out here," he said when he finally pulled back up to the hotel.

[shaunhastings]

"You're sure?" Shaun asked. "She's going to be a bit."

[bleedingeffect]

That's right. They were ahead of this Rebecca's schedule by quite a bit, weren't they? She'd be almost an hour, if he remembered right.

"That an invitation, then?"

[shaunhastings]

"Well, she shouldn't be gone long enough for you to break anything," Shaun sighed out, turning towards the apartment. "Come on, then. Just don't touch anything once you're inside. We have some sensitive equipment set up."

[bleedingeffect]

Equipment? Desmond nodded, just shrugging his shoulders. He pulled his bike up to the building, tucking it in the shadows, propping it up before following.

"I'm not the one bumbling around drunk, just so you know," Desmond reminded him.

[shaunhastings]

"I'm feeling much better now that I've puked my guts out, thank you very much," Shaun shot back from over his shoulder.

After shuffling around in his pockets for a pair of keys, Shaun led Desmond to a red doorway towards the back end of the hotel's lower floors. He opened it, allowing Desmond entry. The main room was mostly bare. There were wires strewn across the floor, most of them hooked up to a machine that resembled a reclining chair and a bunch of servers. In the opposing corner, there was only a card table and few chairs, a few papers and laptop computer sitting up on the table's surface.