not_in_the_book | Room 507, Saturday Evening

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Room 507, Saturday Evening

Ronan led Bolton to his room from the gym, closing the door behind him. "Feel free to sit anywhere," he said. "I just need to find something, then I can finish healing your arm."

[OOC: 'Bolton' modded with permission, locked to him only, please.]

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Bolton looked over at Ronan and that grin and commented with a grin of his own, "You seem pretty into that tea, man."

Ronan grinned back, pulling out a packet of biscuits for himself, and said, "That's because I am really into that tea." He grabbed a bag of licorice tea, and added, "You want some, too?"

Bolton thought about it a second before reaching into the dresser to grab as close to the same thing that Ronan grabbed and nodded. "Yes. I think. I don't know. We'll find out?"

Ronan laughed and nodded as he took the teabag from Bolton. "Okay," he said, getting up, moving to his kettle. Turning it on, waiting for it to boil, he then turned his attention back to his bag of biscuits. "Want one?" he asked, holding it out after he'd opened it. "Chocolate chip."

Bolton's hand was instantly diving in. "I'll take anything at this point," he said. "It's not like I can remember what I like or anything...Thanks. Again."

"Not a problem," Ronan said, laughing a little still. "... This really doesn't constitute dinner, though," he added, frowning. He looked into the drawer. "Aha! Sandwiches!" And he pulled out a loaf of bread before going to his mini-fridge and grabbing some sliced ham and a block of cheddar. "Sound good?"

Bolton's hands went to his stomach. "Yesss," he said, laughing a little. "It does. I think I must have even forgot how hungry I was."

"All right," he said, "sandwiches it is!" He made quick work of the sandwich fixings, and just as the kettle began to whistle, there were two sandwiches, ham and cheddar on whole wheat, sitting before them. He nodded to them as he began preparing the tea. "Help yourself," he said. "This will only take a minute."

"Seriously," Bolton said, ever so gracefully with his mouth full of sandwich already, but at least he swallowed before he continued speaking, "you rock. Totally worth breaking my arm over."

Which had nothing to do with the fact that Ronan was still stripped down for bed. Really.

Okay, maybe a little.

Ronan laughed. "You wouldn't be saying that if it wasn't already fixed," he said, grinning, as he held out a finished cup of licorice tea towards Bolton. "Although, again, glad I could help."

It was right then that he kind of realised he was, yes, still only wearing boxers; he was feeling decidedly underdressed next to Bolton. "So, uh," he said, sipping his tea. Tea was good. Tea helped. "How's the sandwich?"

Smooth, Ronan. Very smooth.

At least he remembered to chew and swallow before answering, although a little thumbs up appeared in the process. "Good," he said. "Very good. Thank you."

"No problem." He shrugged, taking a bit of his own sandwich; he moved back to his bed, sitting on it, leaning back against the wall. "So... You really don't remember anything at all?"

"Nope," Bolton shook his head, staying with his sandwich and tea on the floor for the moment. "Nothing. Anything I've gotten has just been things I gleaned from my room when I woke up this morning."

Ronan nodded. "That really sucks," he said. "How do you know it was your basketball stuff, then? How do you know it wasn't your roommate's?"

"I guess I don't?" Bolton offered, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I mean, all that stuff, and the jersey with the name was all on the side of the room I woke up on, so I just kind of assumed that's who I was. Nothing but a bunch of paint stuff on the other bed; I haven't seen my roommate at all, so I figured he had friends or something he was staying with?"

Ronan nodded. "Fair enough, I guess," he said. "Anyway," he continued, stretching; he took the last bite of his sandwich, followed it with another sip of tea. "I love this tea so much," he said, completely distracted from whatever he'd been about to say before.

"I would say that, yeah, it is pretty good," Bolton said, unable to help laughing at Ronan's little tea fixation, "but I have nothing to compare it to."

"Well, with any luck, your memory'll be back after the weekend," Ronan said. "And if not... well, I'll see what I can do."

Bolton nodded. "And have more tea," he added, with a very knowledgeable sort of sip.

"Of course!" Ronan laughed. "There's always more tea." He grinned. "...Sure you're going to be more comfortable in your clothes?"

"...Comfortable enough?" Bolton offered, with a slight, uncertain tilt of his head. Almost because he was wondering why Ronan would bring it up again. Well, clearly, Bolton was just being paranoid, right?

Honestly, Ronan wasn't sure why he brought it up, himself.

Oh, look, his tea was finished. Was Bolton's? "Anyway," he said. "... I'm just about ready for bed, I think. You?"

"I was ready before, remember?" he pointed out with a grin, and finished the last of the tea. "And I guess the tea wasn't too bad, either."

Ronan nodded, grinning back. He got up and collected the mug from Bolton, setting it along with his by the kettle to be cleaned later. "Okay for lights out, then?" he asked, his hand by the lightswitch.

After scrambling up and maybe just a little bit of eye lingering toward Ronan, Bolton flopped back onto the other bed. "Yup."

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not_in_the_book - 2007-10-01 02:24 (UTC) - Expand

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