Getting Better

"Oh, that's horrible!" He whispered, physically covering his face as he immediately skimmed Colby for any sign of concern. It could be hard to hide his emotions, and Jake occasionally fit that overly flamboyant stereotype more often than he noticed, how his parents didn't make the connection with his sexuality was a mystery - unless they simply chose to ignore it all.

"Even if I didn't like you, I promise I would never threaten to hurt you. You're nice, why would I hurt someone nice?" He questioned rather childishly. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you, even when you piss me off."
 
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"Nah, it wasn't too bad. I threatened to make his life a living hell by singing in the early hours to prevent him from sleeping, so I was just as bad. I didn't threaten violence, because that's not my style, but I pride myself on how annoying I can be. He figured it out withing the month-- but hey, I'm not so annoying that we can't be mates, you know? I want to be your mate, so I'll limit just how much of an annoying prick I can be," promised the other as he held back a grin at the perhaps flamboyant reaction, but one he found cute rather than anything else.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen to me in here, pal. It's on the outside that my life goes to shit. I should probably be kept in here as long as possible, I guess. You, though... hey, you'll be alright. I've seen people breakdown within five minutes of being here, but you're tough, so you'll be alright."
 
"I'm not tough," he protested with a laugh of disbelief. "What about me is tough? I wear pastels, I work at a cute cafe, my apartment is covered in D.I.Y projects that mothers do when they're bored. I'm as tough as a kitten, and just as intimidating," he admitted, though Jake had no problem with his... softness. It was the perfect contrast to Chris who, in the very least, aesthetically matched Colby's aesthetic.

Chris was tough. Being raised by such homophobic parents, everyone was completely shocked when the sporty, muscular Chris came out as gay. They based their entire idea of gay men on the anti-LGBT rhetoric they spewed in church, after all, and while Jake matched it nearly to a T, he distinctly remembered his mother calling him rude for assuming something so horrible in Chris.
 
"...I mean, it was a compliment. You should just accept it. If someone said I was tough, I'd take it, even if I'm pretty sure I couldn't fight my way out of a paper bag," laughed Colby, tapping his nails against the table quietly. He wasn't surprised that his attempted compliment was completely refuted - he would probably have acted the same way if someone told him he was tough. He could pretend all he wanted, but he also knew that, when the drug dealers came looking for him to collect their money, he would cowardly hide rather than fight. On that basis alone, he knew he was far from tough.

"We have a lot in common, huh? A lot more than I thought. But hey, we can pretend to be tough. Nobody needs to know that we're not."
 
"Yeah, we're tough," he declared only to snort at the ridiculous claim. "I mean, I hardly doubt anyone is going to hurt us here, Colby. I... hope not, at least. Everyone seems... nice? What am I saying? You're literally the only person I've talked to."

Shaking his head, he decided to slowly get to his feet to at least stretch a bit. After being on a gurney for hours, he at least wanted to hear some joints pop. "You'll... help me, and I'll help you."
 
"...Yeah, you're not tough, are you? You're a real softy-- but that's fine too. I'm like that. I couldn't be tough even if I tried, and if I am tough, it's purely accidental because I'm shit-faced and not fully in control. Yeah, we can both be softies together, it's kinda cute," he laughed, cracking his knuckles once the usual stiffness in his joints caused him a little pain. Most of his joints tended to seize up since his drug addiction really took hold, and it was troubling. He wanted to get back into music once he finally got out the hospital, and there was little chance of playing guitar if his joints were so stiff. He did hope that it was a temporary thing that would be helped with exercise and staying clean, and it was at least an incentive to stay clean this time - not being able to play music would be devastating.

"Hey, you don't need to keep talking to me, go and talk to other people if you want-- or just go wander around. I know you said I'm not annoying, but I do a lot of talking and I bet I'm giving you a headache. You're just too nice to admit it, kid."
 
"'Kid'? I'm only a few years younger than you," he corrected with a chuckle as he watched the other curiously. "It's fine. Like I said, I prefer to listen. If I start rambling, I end up sounding like a proper idiot and I'm not really interested in that. I... I don't meet people on my own anyway," he insisted before shifting his weight in the standard issued slippers.

"In fact, I really just want some hot tea with honey and a book, those calm me down. I imagine they don't have my sort of books here, if we're allowed to even have them. Look, if you become annoying, I'll tell you," he reassured, though it was obvious that Jake would say nothing if someone held a knife to his throat, so something mildly irritating wouldn't be mentioned.
 
"We don't get honey with tea but... hey, I know a way we can get our hands on some. We can sneak into the nurses' lounge, they have a lot of good stuff in there. I'm sure they have honey. We can just sneak our way in-- I know how to pick a lock," he beamed, pushing himself off the uncomfortable plastic chair once settling his mind. He had often crept into the lounge to get his hands on hot chocolate; something they only really gave out when it was winter. He didn't have any problems doing that - what they didn't know couldn't hurt them-- besides, it was always fun and he needed something to entertain himself now and then.

"Don't be a wimp, I'll take the blame if we're caught. They like me, I can get away with a lot. A flirty smile and a cheeky wink is all it takes," he boasted, offering a quick wink of his own as he motioned him to follow. "We can have tea outside in the garden, it'll be nice and peaceful and you seem like you like that sort of thing."
 
"Oh, this'll be devious," he whispered as he looked around at the other nurses and patients. "I haven't been this sneaky since I stole money from my parents. It'll help, though - the tea, I mean. Nothing makes me feel better than some nice tea and honey. Offering a slow smile, he nudged the other a bit.

"You're - what's it called? Chaotic good," he commented as he adjusted his sweatshirt. "I'll stay behind a bit, I don't want to ruin our plan. I crack under pressure," he insisted.
 
"Oh, shut up, you're not gonna ruin it. Do you want tea or not? If you do, you're gonna have to come with me because I'm not going in there alone, kid," he snorted, rolling his eyes at the hesitance from the other. He understood that cautiousness was a good trait sometimes, but he also wanted to try and distract Jake from thinking too heavily on why he was in the hospital. Sneaking into the lounge and doing something like this would at least guarantee a few minutes where his mind wasn't on the past, and at the end of it, he'd have the tea he seemed to crave so much.

If he backed out of it and hesitated on the sidelines, there wasn't much point to it at all.

"It's fun, yeah? This place isn't known for its fun, Jake, so we have to create some," shrugged Colby, grabbing a pin from his pocket and casually strolled out to the corridor. He had been in the hospital enough to know that keeping a pin on him would come in handy for times like this-- or just to break into the psychiatrists' cabinet to examine his file, which he often did out of boredom. "We'll be, like, five minutes at the most."
 
Nervously looking around, he followed alongside Colby with his lips pursed together anxiously. That being said, it didn't mean a part of him wasn't excited. He was raised to follow authority closely and to be breaking that authority, even if it was just for a cup of tea, was intense.

"How did you get that pin?" He whispered in surprise. Nearly everything had been taken away from him, down to the necklace his husband had given him for his birthday, so the sight of a pin was mind boggling.
 
"Put it under my tongue, stayed pretty quiet and then slipped it up my sleeve when they finished examining me. Wasn't that hard, kid. It's just a hair-pin so it wasn't going to, like, cut my mouth or anything-- a pin comes in handy when I want to do some snooping. They keep files on us. I wanna know what they're writing about me sometimes, it's my business to know, so I always keep a pin handy," he replied, shooting the other a smile over his shoulder with little care about how wrong it was. That said, he was going through a whole wave of pain, emotional and physical, so anything that distracted him from that ought to be a good thing.

"Hey, picking locks isn't a good thing, but I never did anything too bad. I broke into a car once, but the guy was a jerk who owed me money, so it wasn't a big deal. Still, I learned a handy trick from that," he continued, kneeling down beside the lock and immediately began working on unpicking it, grinning in satisfaction when he managed it in record time. "It's like riding a bike. You don't forget it-- anyway, let's get you that tea, shall we?"
 
"You broke into a car?!" He squeaked in horror as he knelt down beside the other, all color from his cheeks completely drained as he watched. He would never admit his genuine curiosity for just how the other knew such... devious activities, and like hell would he do any of them.

"Where should I look? How am I even going to brew the tea? Is there a kettle in here?" He began to babble anxiously as he peaked inside the room. When no one seemed to be hiding in there for some reason, he slowly crept forward, fearful that a nurse would suddenly jump and attack them.
 
"Yeah, but the guy owed me money and he was a dick anyway-- I've stolen some cash and a few things from stores and I broke into a car once. That's as far as my life of crime has gone, kid. I'm not Al Capone, put it that way. I'm not a criminal, I just... I was desperate for cash and he was refusing to give me what was mine. Fair's fair, y'know?" The taller of the men sighed, wandering into the lounge with incredible casualness. At any moment, they could be interrupted by a nurse ready to take her 10-minute break, but that possibility hardly bothered him. If they came, he was confident he could charm his way out of things.

"You and me are so different, but we're kinda similar too, huh? It's weird," he confirmed as he pushed himself up onto the counter and began examining the items on the cupboard, pulling out the honey and a packet of biscuits for himself. "We'll get along fine-- you just need to realise that I've done some shitty stuff but it doesn't make me a bad guy. I was high most of the time anyway. I do dumb shit when I'm high."
 
"You're... You aren't a bad guy but you did some very bad things," he replied as he rummaged through the cabinet to find some tea bags and a foam mug. Pouring sink water into the electric kettle. Flipping it on. Eyeing the other, he hesitated before daring to hop into the counter as well. Granted, not only did he naturally look uncool doing it, he also fell the first attempt up.

"... it's fine," he eventually murmured, his cheeks igniting i embarrassment. A part of him wanted to impress the man. Sure, his ruggedness was from years of hardcore drugs but it just translated into a cool guy with a dark past sort of stereotype.
 
Being told that he had done bad things was hardly a shock to him, and he did appreciate the honesty. What did shock him was being told he was a good person. He liked to declare that he was harmless, which was more or less the truth, but he didn't really believe it as much as he liked to pretend. He had stolen from his mother who was the only person who tried to help him, and he had pushed away the people he had been friends with since the age of 4, including the one person he had ever loved. Of course he didn't think he was a particularly good person-- so hearing differently from Jake made him grin happily.

He knew he had just met him and that he probably had no basis for suggesting that he was inherently a decent guy, but he wasn't so stubborn that he'd refuse the compliment.

"You alright? I mean, you're... not short, but you know, these counters are pretty high up and I'm taller than you, kid," he quietly smiled, his brow arched at the initial fall. If it had been someone else, he'd have laughed, but given this was someone who was still in an emotionally raw place, he deigned to do something that could be seen as insensitive. "Didn't hurt yourself, did 'ya?"
 
"I'm fine," he reassured, his face only growing more red at the other's concerns. Dusting his sweatshirt clean, he shyly pushes his bangs from his face and picked up the mug once the kettle finished. Making the tea just to his craving, he blew on it and took a tea with a sigh of relief.

"It isn't my brand but it'll do," he teased lightly before holding out the cup. "You can have a sip if you want. I... I mean, I don't really know what you like to eat and whatnot so I hope you aren't offended by the taste," he insisted properly, his Christian school boy making an appearance with a smile.
 
"I'm more into hot chocolate. Tea tastes weird," he shrugged casually, rooting back in the cupboards for anything else he could sneak back into his room. The food was admittedly surprisingly nice, and one of the only things that was nicer than on the outside, given his mother's atrocious attempts at cooking. That didn't mean he wasn't prepared to sneak something extra if he could, if only for the meagre entertainment value.

"We should probably get moving before they find out we've essentially broken in," he snorted, easily slipping down from the counter with the various snacks he had hoarded for himself, holding them as discreetly as he possibly could. "I'm probably going to go for a nap, this has been exhausting. I usually don't get up until midday, so being thrown in here this early in the morning sucks. It's totally disrupted my schedule."
 
"Oh, ah, okay..." he replied quietly in clear confusion. He wasn't one for quick events, hence why the last few days had been hell - to wake up in the ICU then immediately be strapped to a gurney without his permission and just... dumped here? His head was still spinning. For Colby to just decide to leave when he just got his drink was disorienting.

"Okay, uh... I guess I'll take a nap too," he declared quietly as he hopped off the counter, not before setting the hot tea down carefully. "I don't really want to talk to anyone else, to be honest..."
 
"So you're going to stick to my side like my shadow, huh? That'd be kinda cute, actually. Like my own personal fan. God knows I always wanted fans and all that stuff that comes with being in a band, but nah, I fucked that up-- but hey, I met you, so maybe it's not all that bad. I get to hang out in a cosy hospital, not having to spend a single pound, and I get to make some wicked friends. It's not that bad, really," grinned Colby quietly to himself. It was probably healthier for him to encourage the other to interact and make some friends, but he also didn't want to push him into something he wasn't comfortable doing. Besides, selfishly, he wanted to develop a close friendship with him. He was the only one almost the same age as him and he wanted to have someone to be able to talk to about things people their age were interested in.

He could hardly chat to one of the older folks about his interests and hobbies. He had tried, of course, but more often or not, they didn't understand and were more content telling him about their past. He was absolutely fine with that too, but just once, he wanted to have someone he could chat to and have some actual interested replies. Right now, Jake was one of the only options.

"...Or we could just go and walk about," he suggested casually, shutting the door to the lounge as quietly as he could manage. "The gardens are pretty neat, that'd be nice, yeah? I tried escaping over the walls once, actually. Don't bother. If I can't, you won't be able to-- though I guess I could give you a lift over if you were that desperate..."
 
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