Location: King's Bedroom
Interacting With: Malcolm Okada @McHaggis
The King estate was as quiet as it could be during the mornings. Knight was lounging lazily in the living room, breathing ever so softly as the soft-footed Marie quietly prepared for the day. She would usually be getting Richard up by now, but, of course, she had heard him talking so loudly last night with another that she had no interest in barging in and possibly seeing her brother in a compromising situation. So, instead of waking him up, she silently made breakfast and fed Knight, humming a soft tune as she gazed peacefully out the window. Oh yes, it was going to be an interesting day today.
Sunlight streamed through half-closed blinds, gleaming directly onto the resting face of Richard King. It was a September morning, so of course the burn ball in the sky was still at its peak of warmth and clarity. He had tried to ignore the light, and it had worked for about half an hour before King swore the sun had begun to burn his eyelids off. It was an odd feeling, like his entire upper head was on fire, but that seemed like the usual feeling after a night of drinking and talking. Usual yes, but not something he really wanted to deal with for the time being. Slowly, with a slight groan and heavy sigh, King turned away from the light to something much more pleasing to look at, the sleeping face of Malcolm.
Mal had come over the night before after King’s conflict with Jay. They had both felt pretty lousy, and with nothing left to do in the pitch darkness of King’s bedroom they just fell right into their routine of drinking and talking until they passed out. He was rarely the first awake, but when the occasion presented itself King was usually in good spirits. He would usually grin happily at his friend’s serene face, giggling quietly to himself as small details seem to stand out, but right now King couldn’t help but feel oddly… Sad. Depressed. And tired. God was he so tired, it was like he hadn’t slept a wink last night. Perhaps that weird eclipse was the cause? Could the moon changing make someone more tired? Lost in thought, he continued to stare at Malcolm, blank face stone still, and eventually he shifted again, slowly sitting up in an effort to keep his head from screaming in pain. Carefully, he glanced about his abode, finding comfort in the familiar surroundings.
The room around the two was slightly messy, covered in pillows and blankets and empty beer bottles, and to King it seemed to be flowing with some kind of… Energy. The initial feeling of comfort was replaced almost instantly. Honestly, he felt extremely oppressed in the room, as if some kind of overhanging anxiety or sadness was just crushing him. Where was it coming from? Nothing had changed? Only… King turned slowly to stare at Malcolm, eyebrows furrowing tightly, and then in an instant he was up and wobbling towards the large windows. He moaned in pain as the sudden movement rattled his aching mind, but instead of slowing down he simply threw open the blinds to welcome in the morning.
”Up up up! Mal, we have school today!” He yelled hoarsely, wincing as sunlight suddenly filled the dim room and his own voice seemed to reverberate painfully within his skull.
Somewhat quieter, Mal’s eyes fluttered open and his breathing hitched in alarm but evened out a few seconds later as he became fully alert. And after that, he groaned.
“Christ, what were we drinking? I’m a lightweight but I feel like I’ve been hit by an eighteen-wheeler.” He rolled over but was already on the edge of the bed, resulting in him flopping limply to the ground.
“I wouldn’t mind staying here all day,” he grumbled.
His phone buzzed. A text from Jay –
Jason, he corrected, since they were officially not-friends – about the Astronomy Club meeting. It must have been about the solar eclipse last night. Malcolm barely remembered it, if only because he had the presence of mind to stop before he was blackout drunk, but he was sure it happened just after the first beer was cracked open, and he had exuberantly explained why it was so important to King whilst blaming a budding headache on the crappy alcohol.
Mal peered up at King, at the diffused light surrounding him from the sun, and looked away quickly, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose instead to avoid the headache. Having a cold hand on the apparent source of the pain seemed to soothe it, which was grand, because Mal wasn’t a fan of popping pills to deal with his problems.
”Yeah…”At the sight of Malcolm’s open eyes a flurry of colors seemed to fill King’s vision. Purples and yellows, intense swirls of both that just felt so
heavy. He teetered slightly, feeling a bit faint from the psychedelic trip he was apparently experiencing, but all at once everything seemed to fall into place. The colors seemed to fill him, and his mind shifted and fell in line with something or someone that felt completely alien. The instinctive lip-chewing came first, and then the hand that played with his own disheveled hair. Lust was a feeling King felt often, but he never really acted on it like he was now. Perhaps it was the intense warmth in the pit of his stomach cheering him on, or the fact that he just
knew that Mal was feeling the same way, but all King could fathom was he just felt so guilty and so so very bothered. And that he had to quench this thirst. It was weird, going from one to one hundred in the fraction of a second, but here he was, shivering like a schoolgirl and craving affection.
what the fuck is going onKing stepped back towards his bed slowly, fist clenching and unclenching. Watching Mal, watching him sit so daintily and glance about calmly, for some reason it was so tempting. So… Familiar. King froze above his friend and then all at once he was on top of Malcolm. His hands held him up as not to crush the smaller boy, and his eyes glared down with a mix of yearning and confusion and just a bit of guilt.
For a moment, he wanted to just lean in and kiss the boy’s stupidly cute face, or maybe pull him into a deep embrace, but then reality seemed to set in and instead he let his entire body weight collapse onto Mal. King’s head buried into the bed just to the right of Malcolm’s neck, and with a shuddering breath he let out a quiet and hoarse cry. Something was very wrong.
“King..? Wha–” Malcolm turned beet red and his neck burned hot, but his brows furrowed in determination.
Don’t make it weird Mal, he chided himself while looking nervously at his friend. God help him, he couldn’t look away, but anxiety burned low in his chest at the sound. He sounded like he was in distress.
“King? Richard?”Almost instinctively, he reached up to touch the side of Richard’s neck as if checking for a pulse. There was definitely one there, and Mal thanked his lucky stars that he was – or would be – a professional. He wet his chapped lips. Dilated pupils. Maybe it was a migraine? If it was a sign of anything worse than he’d need to call an ambulance, or maybe his
Dad, and then things would go from bad to worse…
Of course, dilated pupils could mean other things, but – a small voice on his shoulder or perhaps a niggling one in his ear repeated,
’Don’t make this weird, Mal.’ He didn’t realise he’d pretty much mumbled it aloud until it was too late. He hastily tried to cover it by continuing.
“Are you okay?”The overbearing guilt and lust was replaced with the searing pain of anxiety. That was new, and awful. King winced, burying his head into the crook between Mal’s neck and shoulder. He felt so helpless, so confused, so… Out of control. It was as if he wasn't King anymore, he was someone else, someone with terribly heavy emotions. King slowly rose his head as Mal seemed to tinker with his body, and then all at once he was up and scurrying towards the bathroom door.
”Sorry, sorry, I’m still drunk I think, sorry…!” He yelled over his shoulder meekly before vanishing behind the white-painted door. Once inside, King sucked in a deep breath, and then promptly turned towards the toilet and coughed up whatever was left in his stomach from last night. He was reeling, emotionally and physically, and the fact that he had a
hangover wasn’t helping much with either. He leaned into the toilet, breathing heavily, but the intense emotions just didn’t stop. King was aware of something new as well. These emotions that flooded around him were not his, they did not belong to his body. They were foreign and strong and
not wanted. King shuddered a few times, hoping to expel the emotions along with the contents of his stomach, but in the end the anxious feeling remained, and King uncomfortably prepared for the day with a quick shower and long stare in the mirror.
Mal was waiting outside the door when he exited, sitting with a glass of water by his side and a little strip of ibuprofen in his hands. He must’ve silently exited the bedroom – like some sort of ninja – to get them. When King opened the door, Mal jumped to his feet and held them out for him. There was still a faint red tinge to his cheeks as if he hadn’t quite gotten over the events of the last hour or so, but he forced a smile.
“Are you sure you want to go in today?”Exiting the bathroom after dousing his face a few times, King was greeted with a new emotion, and as this swirl of purple sadness beat itself into King’s chest he wondered slightly if Malcolm was the source of his mood swings. Moving carefully, he reached for the glass and pills that Mal held out, and he took down both with ease. His brain was whirring now, attempting to block out whatever was causing him to accept these random emotions so easily, and as he did so King gave a shaky smile and said,
”This is the worst hangover I’ve ever had, but hey that's not gonna stop me. You better go get ready, Mally.”Mal nodded, but not before another flash of worry passed through his eyes.
“See you in ten minutes or so, then,” he said, hoping not to make such a big deal of it.