overjoyed_logs | Pre-Game catchall stuff

Well when you're trapped in your room all day your options are limited.

[ Shrugging his shoulders he tips his head at the edge of the bed and then glances over at a nearby chair, giving Rhys two options of where to sit. ]

I don't think it's anything that bad, everyone that comes in haven't gotten ill. [ A pause. ] But it sure does feel like I'm dying.

Well that's comforting. [ That's sarcasm, by the way. Just in case he wondered. He'll pick the chair since he's still not entirely sure about Crowley's "cooties", but it's close enough that he's only a foot or two from the bed. ]

The doctors find anything wrong with you, or are you just enjoying all the attention?

Isn't it? [ It's a good thing, Rhys! You're not dying!

But Crowley is. Kinda. His stomach is empty and he feels cold, numb, and overall it feels as if this body no longer belonged to him. It was as if everything had shifted into something else, something different, to the point that he felt like every movement, every breath, was new to him.

As Rhys comes closer he can feel the heat radiating off of him as he does everyone else. It's a new addition to this "illness", still requiring adjustment, and he has to swallow a wad of spit after realizing just how dry his throat felt.

In that split-second pause between their exchange Crowley swears he can hear the other's heartbeat. ]

They found out everything I already knew. [ There's a short pause, as if questioning what all he should tell Rhys. ] I can't ingest anything. Whenever I try to it comes back up, even water. I have to stay out of the sun or else I'll-- [ Burn. Terribly. In that second he looks to his hand, completely fine despite having caught fire the other day, before continuing. ] --get weak. The list goes on.

So I don't think they'll be able to help me, sure enough in a few days I'll die of starvation so...

[ He doesn't know how to end that sentence, lips pressed together as he looks to the man seated beside him and shrugs his shoulders. ]

Wait are you s, serious? [ Rhys had been mostly joking about the whole...seriousness of this. Like he figured maybe he caught a bad bug and was just being dramatic about it to get attention. Gods knew Rhys had tried the same thing when he was young in an attempt to garner some attention from his distant parents. It hadn't worked and he'd been left entirely discouraged to try it again, but he knew other people didn't have his awful experiences with parental figures.

He sits up straighter now, expression changing quickly to something that actually looks like genuine concern. Because he is. Concerned. ]

Can't they hook you up to an IV?? If it's just your stomach then they should be able to do...something right?

[ Rhys' reaction earns a crooked smile and silence in the beginning of his reply, sighing as he brings his index and middle finger up to the side of his neck. ]

There's no point in doing that if there's no pulse.

[ And what he feels against his finger tips, other than his own cold skin, is... nothing. No beat, no twitch against his fingers to prove that there's life underneath--there's absolutely nothing there even as he breathes. And with that reality, even if he's known this now for three days, he finally presses his lips together into a frown. ]

I don't even have body heat.

Ummm. What? [ Rhys doesn't mean to bluster out a skeptical laugh at that, but he does. It's a really weird thing to claim considering most people without body heat or pulses tend to be dead and not upright, talking and carrying on like they're alive or something. So Rhys reasons that surely, Crowley must just be exaggerating to make a point or something. ]

Come on, it can't be that bad. I can call one of the doctors that deals with my family. Helped Delle Seyah grow her hair back after Pawts poisoned the swimming pool.

[ He should have seen that coming. ]

Have I ever lied to be funny?

[ He reaches out and places the back of his hand against the other man's cheek. The warmth of a normal, living body has him choking back a sound that's close to a sigh. Seconds later he's flipping his hand and showing his wrist. ]

Check.

[ Alright, that's...definitely cold. Almost icy? Or would be if it weren't for the ambient temperature of the room. But Crowley's definitely too cold for it to be normal and while he reaches up with his right hand to try and double check, he stops midway because, haha, doy.

So he switches to his left and quickly catches the man's wrist, then quickly slides his grip to his forearm. All cold. And when he almost reluctantly places his fingers against the spot where he ought to be able to feel Crowley's pulse?

Nothing. And Rhys's eyes widen. ]

Uhhh......

[ It's that moment the other man's eyes widen that Crowley releases a sigh. ]

See what I told you? [ He's never been a liar, Rhys! Crowley is an honest man who can't help but tell the truth, even in a situation where he's not certain of what all is happening--to the people around him or him. ] I don't get what's happening at all. But I do remember that the second I drank some blood from one of those Scarbacks everything hurt like hell and I ended up like this.

[ A quick pause. ]

And before you ask the blood was forced onto me, I didn't want to drink any of it.

[ Okay you know it's good Crowley clarifies because Rhys was...wondering. A little. Like that's a very worrisome comment to make and sans that clarification it would've made him wonder if Crowley didn't have some seriously messed-up hobbies.

He's still going to make a somewhat repulsed face. ]

I told you those guys were crazy! Gross! I can't believe they...just, what?? What the hell. Ugh.

[ Thanks man. ]

What's worse is that I can hardly remember the face of the one who did it. [ He hums lightly. ] It really pisses me off... ha, you'll cover for me if I go out and kill him, right?

[ He blinks once and whatever playful teasing he's held for this long is immediately dropped, crimson eyes darkening as he his features become more evidently irritated. ]

Right?

U, uhhh.... [ Okay, so. That's not exactly normal right there. Like yeah sure his own eye tends to light up from time to time, but that's because he had the absolutely brilliant idea a few years back to have his perfectly-normal-and-functioning organic one switched out with a cybernetic one. Because it was cool.

Crowley's, he's pretty sure, are not.

Rhys has to suppress a shudder as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. ]

You're--you. You're glowing. [ he'll address being an accomplice to murder after they deal with this first. ]

[ Crowley's features soften, giving the man's remark a bland look. Feeling neither surprised nor offended, nor anything much at all really--with the exception of that irritating hunger that burns his throat.

But that's an exception because what he feels isn't human. Food for hunger was most certainly a human necessity, but Crowley was beginning to realize what he needed wasn't exactly what most would consider 'normal'. In fact he didn't want to believe it to be normal, he wanted to reject it, but instinct and desire tell him that if he wanted to survive this is what he needed. ]

Yeah? [ He reaches out, hand moving to caress the other's cheek. ] That's your fault.

[ You're so irresponsible, Rhys; another second and fingers dip into the nape of his neck. ]

Come closer.

[ There's no question if his words come out as a request or demand. ]

[ And in response Rhys just about stops moving entirely.

...Not to the command, mind you, but the fact that Crowley's just reached out to touch him like that, that the feel of those cold fingers causes his skin to prickle with goosebumps. Crowley blames the glow of his eyes on him and Rhys doesn't even have a retort for that as those fingers dig in; all he feels is a sudden lack of breath and a rapidly-bubbling unease. Embarrassment is right on its heels because--well. Because. How else is he supposed to feel in this sort of situation? Crowley goes from "you've got my back if I murder someone" to touching him like this and beckoning him closer.

Who wouldn't totally mix up the signals he's receiving right now and assume it's something less...hunger-driven. Or well. Not the physical kind of hunger anyway. This very much seems like one of those situations and he isn't at all prepared to be in one with Crowley. Like...they're friends? Ish? They snark at each other, that's their thing.

This, what Crowley's doing right now?

Not That Thing.

Rhys swallows thickly, heart thrumming with indecision. ]

O-oh, I....um. I--

Okay?

[ This is a terrible decision he shouldn't do this with Crowley this is weird and it's going to make things weird and wow his face and neck suddenly feel hot?? (Don't worry, he'll be appropriately mortified later). ]

[ It's strange to look at Rhys in a new light, but the two of them are not at fault for what was happening now. It's supposed to mean nothing--it is nothing and he supposes that he doesn't mind it either. (He'll soon learn to adapt and make this into nothing but normal anyway.) Their relationship will remain strictly unemotional, that much Crowley is sure of as an infallible fact, and his mind is so focused on this aching craving that he doesn't realize at all that his words could possibly mean anything else.

Intimacy wasn't something Crowley was unfamiliar with, losing space and feeling the heat radiate off of another body was, admittedly, something he's experienced many times before. With Rhys it may be a little different but not enough for him to shy away or hesitate, so when the other man creeps closer he's satisfied. Slightly.

Still not close enough.

Bringing a hand up to grab the taller of the two by the side, Crowley pulls him into bed with him. It's done easily with this new strength of his and despite the feeling being new to him it also felt so natural, as if he had the power to tug and pull at what he pleased all his life. Or maybe Rhys is scrawnier than he initially thought. It doesn't really matter.

Hey, Rhys, have you ever been hugged by a vampire? Because that's exactly what Crowley was doing now, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he sinks his back into the mattress of the bed and doesn't even hear it sigh underneath their shared weight. It's not possessive, but he's certainly trapped there despite it being an actual hug. But most importantly the action translates to "I'm glad that you're here".

And he's so, so glad that Rhys was here in this moment, his throat clenching as Crowley buries his face into the crook of the male's neck. And it's there that he realizes he's found his answer to every bit of pain he's been suffering the past three days.

He chuckles lightly against skin, breath warm, just before opening his mouth. ] If you scream I'll kill you. [ The vampire leans in to then close his mouth against the man's jugular, fangs sinking into soft and tender flesh before blood begins to fill his mouth. ]

[ Rhys can't honestly say he ever has been hugged by a vampire, no. Technically speaking those aren't even supposed to exist, and that Crowley could intend anything but what his wild imagination has started to supply is beyond him. Crowley beckons him over, grabs and pulls when he least expects it and Rhys can't helped the short-lived but sharp little sound he makes. It catches in his throats and winds up strangled, because now it feels like all the blood in his body is rushing up into his face.

He's hugging him. Embracing, drawing him back onto the bed and Rhys hardly has a moment to push his palms flat into the mattress beneath them to brace himself lest he collapse atop the other man, and by then his heart is practically pounding in his chest. Crowley has never shown interest in him like this. Hell, for a amiable as friends as they are they've never even really hugged. That was...it's not a Thing that happens to Rhys, usually. Sometimes maybe his paid-for friend would and catch him off guard, but that was...different.

This is different and Rhys can't help the unconsciously clingy emotional response he has to the gesture. Crowley's holding him so close he's sure the other man can feel his pulse pounding away inside his rib cage and gods, he's never thought of him this way? How long as Crowley felt like this...? Is it just because he thinks he's dying and this is just some final...hurrah? Did he choose Rhys just for that?

When he feels the man's mouth press against his throat Rhys very suddenly feels parched and lets out a very pathetic sort of whine (not a keen. An actual uncertain and very embarrassed whine). He should say something, he should ask what the heck Crowley's doing, he sh...oooould worry a lot more that apparently is threatening to kill him if he screams. Why the heck would he do that? It's not as if Rhys is that big a spazz, he's been come onto before. ]

Scr--ugh! [ He was going to put out something affronted and frazzled there, something to express his displeasure with a statement like that even being a necessity, but apparently it's rather warranted. Rhys doesn't even get to finish "scream" before the man bites him and a choked sound of pain catches in his throat.

His gut instinct is to try and pull back as he goes tense and grips the bedding beneath them tight. Heck, the jump in his pulse is so significant that his cybernetic eye even flashes up with a routine warning notification for him...but that's before It happens. Something twisted and anxiety-inducing, something that's so much more humiliating than being thought unable to handle a little making out. It causes Rhys to jolt and twitch against the man as his eyes widen in mortification, the muscles in his throat impossibly tight. It feels like he's choking and burning all at once and he needs to get it out of him--

So Rhys moans.

Loudly, shamefully, and worst of all? In ecstasy. ]

[ jesus fucking christ rhys

Apparently Crowley has been feeling like this for the past ten minutes, or however Rhys has been in the same room with him. Predatory, carnivorous, and the adrenaline and whatever else Rhys is experiencing helps course his blood directly into Crowley's mouth.

Hungry, desperate, unknowing but aware at the same time, he moves as if he was an entirely new person. New in a sense that he doesn't know what was going on with his own body, how he could hear and feel things he couldn't before this disease took over, or why this craving completely controls every action he makes. This embrace, this physical contact, it will soon register as his means of survival once Crowley takes the time to put all the pieces together.

He drinks and his grip tightens, practically keeping the other man locked in a cage. His mouth fills with the familiar coppery taste of blood but once it touches his tongue he can finally taste something. It's bitter. Rhys' blood is bitter, and admittedly Crowley never liked bitter foods to begin with so swallowing was a task in itself. But after nearly starving to death he's willing to drink to his fill. Needy. Crowley has never felt so damn needy before in his life.

His body feels warm, warmer than it has in the past three days, and possibly warmer than it has his entire life. If asked he's feeling a lot of things he can't describe through words; content, strange... full.

Yes. He's full now.

He opens his mouth, sloppily pulling out and possibly causing more pain than anything given their position. Small droplets of blood pour from the open wound and Crowley extends his tongue, lapping up what he can against a pulsating neck before finally bringing his head back against the pillows. He finally releases the taller individual, one hand moving briefly to his chest to check if there's still a heartbeat. Once he's convinced that Rhys is well and alive his hands are completely off of him.

Blood peppers around his lips which then curl into a wolfish grin as a chilling fit of laughter rumbles in his chest. ]

I get it. [ He feigns his anger, disguising it perfectly behind the tone of his voice. ] Ah, hell, I guess I'm a bloodsucker now.

[ Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean... but Crowley understands that by drinking blood he's well and alive.

Calmly, as if none of this had happened, he looks down Rhys. ]

My family is going to be in some deep shit, don't you think?

[ Look no one told him this was going to simultaneously hurt and be the most uncomfortably pleasurable thing he's felt in a while?? And all that aside he wasn't expecting to be bitten. Macked on, felt up maybe, made out with a little? Sure. But having Crowley drag him over and do...this is so far beyond what Rhys was expecting that he literally can't fathom a course of action beyond struggling to breathe while it feels like his neck's mildly on fire.

What is Crowley doing to him?? Like, obviously there's the bite but he's...drinking? His blood? And it feels wrong and amazing and that causes another very pathetic sound to spill for from him. If his whole body hadn't locked up like that he might've done something about the way it all goes straight to his stomach and beyond, but luckily that's not the case and Rhys is spared that embarrassment.

The state of his pants might be a little less than desirable when Crowley pulls back. It's both sobering and very uncomfortable and drags a pained grunt out of him as the fangs leave his skin none-too-gently, and finally Rhys's gaze drops to the man beneath him in utter incomprehension, mouth agape. He says something about bloodsucking and all he can think is oh, he bit me and then there's a hand on his chest and his...pants are just. All sorts of uncomfortable right now and Rhys still hasn't processed entirely that Crowley made a snack out of him instead of "getting it on."

So yeah. Definitely still alive, definitely still not processing this situation all that efficiently. ]

Yuh....youuu, you bit me. [ Someone give this man a genius award. His voice literally warbled and cracked saying that. ]

[ Crowley is never going to sleep with Rhys not being mean just #facts. ]

Yeah. [ Said flatly, in a tone that makes it sound like he's bored. Questions were answered and now Crowley wants nothing more than to wallow in his own self-pity. Even with energy coursing through him now and the fact that he was full, no longer on the verge of death, this sort of physical contact wasn't necessary once everything was done with. ] But it's over, so move off of me.

[ But wait... there's more.

Desperately he wants to ignore the obvious, Rhys is limp but hard at the same time and just a second of contact is more than enough for Crowley's lifetime. ]

You're seriously gross.

[ Look Rhys wants to ignore all this as well alright? Because this is just all sorts of not what he thought it was and he's not even sure what he's supposed to do with this development? Crowley's drawing attention to his very obvious discomfort and if he had the blood for it he'd flush hard. He hasn't lost that much, but it's split between his racing heart and his...yeah. That. Alright??

He's making a sound of disbelief and embarrassment as he claps a hand over his wounds, and they smart appropriately with a throb of pain. ]

Wh--you were the one that...--you called me closer, and then you...! [ What was he supposed to do or think in that situation???? ] It's your fault!

[ But he's pushing himself up quickly, trying to scrounge together some semblance of composure. It doesn't really work. ]

Yeah? [ Not a question, he's fully aware of what he did and how he went about it. Perhaps this scenario could have gone a different direction where Crowley could have bit Rhys' neck, but they unfortunately don't live in that reality. What's done is done. ] I went on a whim, really, something was telling me that biting would help me so... it's only logical that I get you closer so I can.

[ It's just?? common sense. ]

I didn't do anything. You're just a freak.

You bit me, and I'm the--? [ That's not how that works at all, how rude?? Rhys is a victim of circumstance here, primarily Crowley;s mouth circumstances. Because he's pretty sure the fact that he nearly got off on being bitten and having his blood sucked out of him is not something he's generally into. Guaranteed if someone else tried it, it would not give him his current problem. ]

You did this! Not me.

[ Nothing is Crowley's fault and it's all Rhys' for being a loser. This isn't even an opinion just facts. ]

You're the one that liked it a little too much, right? Then it's definitely your fault. Don't go pushing the blame on me just because you're easily aroused.

[ That being said. ]

I can feel it, so do you mind getting off?

Ohhhh my gh--you are the literal worst friend ever, you know that?? What if--oh gods, what if you infected me?? And now I'm going to die and bite people??

[ THIS FACT ONLY JUST NOW OCCURS TO HIM as he hurriedly pushes himself up proper and moves off of Crowley and his bed forever. His hand clamps back over the bleeding puncture marks which have naturally ruined his very-expensive shirt. Awesome :c ]

[ He shrugs his shoulders casually, as if all those wonderful questions Rhys had every reason to be anxious about were on the bottom of his list of worries. ]

I don't know. I guess then we'd both be bloodsuckers. [ Drinking human blood. Starving if they refused and their bodies rejecting everything else.

He wonders what else about his body had changed. ]

But when it happened to me it was instant, probably just a few seconds later and my entire body was on fire. You should be fine unless you're experiencing that.

idk fifty-seven sounds good

wow how is Rhys not anemic

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