tw: blood
Around 8 o'clock I pull open the last box and sort through its contents. Clay has been on his computer the entire evening, coding something far more complicated than I've ever seen. He tells me it's a plug in or something but the words he uses to describe it mean absolutely nothing to me. Reading the numbers and letters that cross his screen at a rapid pace just makes me feel useless and unintelligent.
When he notices that I've finished with the boxes, he glances at his watch briefly then types something quickly on his computer and turns to face me.
"How was that?" he asks, examining the various items I found in the fan packages.
"Really fun. Some of them were kind of weird though." He laughs then smiles to himself as if remembering something. Probably a weird package he received in the past.
"I'm absolutely starving. I totally forgot about dinner, sorry. What do you wanna eat?"
"Oh, I'm not really hungry. I'll probably just eat a snack whenever I go home."
"What? You haven't eaten for hours. Come on. I'll just order something." I think about this for a moment, but it doesn't seem like he's willing to take no for an answer, so I finally just give up and roll my eyes. "Lovely. Where should we order? I'd cook, but that'd just be embarrassing."
"You choose. You're lucky if I can even choose what to order," I say, getting up from the ground and exploring the room a little bit. There are several awards hung on the walls, most of which have a YouTube logo in the center.
After scrolling on his phone for a bit he suggests Panera and I agree. He reads me the entire menu, but in the end, I just choose a grilled cheese sandwich. "Vanilla ice cream and now a grilled cheese from Panera... you disappoint me."
"Hey, you liked the ice cream!" I say, watching him enter our order for delivery. He laughs under his breath and submits the order.
"We have a while before it gets here," he says, setting his phone down and standing from his chair. "Let's go bother Nick." I smile and follow him into the hallway where he leads the way to Nick's room. After a singular knock, he opens the door and walks in. Nick barely looks up from his phone, clearly unsurprised by his housemate's manners.
"What do you want?" he asks, sitting up against his headboard, still staring at his phone screen. A computer monitor glows in the opposite corner of the room, providing the only source of light. Clay flips a light switch next to him, earning a glare from Nick who finally sets his phone down and examines us. "Did you finish the plug in?"
"Yeah and I don't wanna work anymore so we're here to bother you." Nick starts to respond, but Clay launches himself onto the bed, knocking Nick's phone onto the floor. I can tell that this is a common occurrence by the way the Nick just rolls his eyes and scoots over to make room.
"You wanna join, Y/n?" Nick asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me and motioning dramatically to the few inches of space left next to him.
"In your dreams Nick. I don't want your cooties." Clay bursts out laughing and Nick uses it as an opportunity to shove him off the bed. He hits the floor hard, but doesn't seem to have any reaction other than laughter. I've never seen this side of Clay, but it's absolutely fantastic.
Finally, Nick crawls out of bed and sits on the floor next to his hysterical friend, rolling his eyes dramatically the entire way. I sit on the ground where I am, near the door, so that I can lean against the wall.
"I wanna go on Twitter," Clay's muffled voice comes from behind the pillow that Nick has shoved in his face to stop the laughter.
"Where's your phone?" Nick asks, releasing his grip on the pillow and allowing it to fall into Clay's lap. Clay immediately picks it up and slams it into Nick's face, not waiting for a reaction before darting out of the room. "DREEEEAAAMMM," Nick shouts, barreling into the hallway with a look of determination on his face. I step into the hallway just in time to see Clay slide full force into a wall, rendering his nose bloody.
"You idiot." I shake my head, watching a childish grin spread across his face. The blood running down his face doesn't stop him from sprinting off when Nick rounds the corner. For a few minutes, I hear them screaming back and forth at each other, mostly using their gaming names, which is strange to hear in person. Then there's the sound of someone hitting the ground, a cry of victory, and silence.
I find them sprawled on the floor in the living room, both panting like dogs. Clay is pinching his nose to stop the blood flow, but he's already gotten it all over himself and now the floor. Nick is grinning victoriously, unbothered by the fact that his t-shirt has new red stains all over it.
"Are you two done being idiots?" I ask, offering Nick a hand to help him up since he's literally on top of Clay. He takes it, standing sheepishly like he finally realizes what they've just done.
"He started it!" He says suddenly, pointing down at Clay who is now on his back with his nose unplugged. Clay glares up at Nick then heaves himself upward. The blood immediately starts flowing down his face again.
"Oh my god, go clean yourselves up," I command, pulling Clay towards the bathroom. "You totally broke your nose, idiot. You need to have someone look at it." He sits on the edge of the bathroom counter as I examine his nose and try to contain the bleeding with a wad of toilet paper.
"You're looking at it. Isn't that good enough?" he asks, eyes trained on mine. I shake my head and step back from the counter.
"Stay here. I'm getting you new clothes. Do. not. move." He grins and does some sort of half salute to me as I leave the room. I realize then that I don't really know where his clothes would be because I've only ever been in his gaming room.
I find Nick, sitting in his room in a fresh t-shirt and he immediately puts his phone down when he sees me. "What can I do for you, madam?" he asks in a british accent.
"I need to find new clothes for Clay. Can you show me where his room is?" Nick opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by the doorbell. "Oh shit, our food is here."
"I'll grab him some clothes, you're good."
"Thank you," I say, rushing out of his room and towards the front door. The delivery girl is about my age and her face is bright red as she hands me the food. "Shoot, let me go grab my money. I'll be right back, sorry." I say, realizing I don't have anything to tip her with. She just nods and smiles.
When I give her the money, she slips a receipt into my hand and blushes furiously. She barely even waits for me to thank her before scurrying back to her car. When I join Clay in the bathroom again, he's in a new pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Interesting choice of top considering the blood that's still streaming from his nose, but I doubt Nick thought about it.
I set the food on the counter next to him and toss the receipt beside it, watching his eyes light up with excitement. While he finds his food, I wet a papertowel and use it to clean the dried blood off of his face and neck. Thankfully he's already washed his hands, so they're clean at least. "Ooh, y/n, what's this?" he asks, picking up the receipt and examining it.
"Uhm, a receipt?" He laughs, making blood spew onto his freshly cleaned face. "What?"
"Was the delivery guy cute?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
"It was a girl and maybe. I didn't really notice. Why?"
"Well she certainly thought you were cute," he says with a wink, handing the paper to me. On it is a little note and a phone number. Now I feel bad that I didn't notice when she handed it to me.
"You don't seem too worried about this," I say, pushing a new wad of toilet paper under his nosebleed which has thankfully slowed down.
"Why would I be? I am absolutely cuter."
"I don't know, Clay. Her eyes were pretty stunning." He narrows his eyes at me.
"I thought you didn't notice."
"Stop making that face. I'm just kidding." He laughs and hands me my food. "You're getting a black eye, Clay. We should really go to urgent care or something."
"Oh please. You've been with my mom too much."
"I can't handle you right now." He smirks and I narrow my eyes at him.
"Let's go eat... not in the bathroom. What time is it?" He glances at his phone, answering his own question. "You have to work tomorrow, don't you?"
"Unfortunately, I do." He makes a disapproving hum and thinks for a moment. I'm guessing he wants to watch a movie or something while we eat, but doesn't want to make me stay longer than I should. "As long as I'm asleep by midnight, I'll live," I add and he nods.
"Perfect." We move out to the living room where Nick is sprawled across a couch, aimlessly searching through Netflix, showing no interest in actually choosing something. "Move over," Clay says, nudging Nick with his knee. Nick rolls his eyes but complies, freeing up room for both of us to sit beside him.
"I'm not gonna pick a movie if either of you is gonna complain about it," Nick says, glaring at Clay and I.
"No complaints," I promise, holding out my pinky to him. He takes it and turns to Clay.
"I'll help you pick to avoid any... issues," Clay says returning Nick's glare. Nick huffs out an answer under his breath, but I can't hear it.
The two of them go back and forth over some movies for a few minutes before Nick suddenly smiles deviously and opens up the search bar. I watch as he types in three numbers: 365. He barely has time to hit enter before Clay rips the remote out of his hand and exits the search results. "You're done. You are absolutely done. We're watching a documentary." Clay doesn't even read the description of the documentary he chooses before clicking play. It's about Mr. Rogers.
I'm usually not one to fall asleep during movies, but I start feeling tired as soon as I finish my food. Clay lays a blanket over me and I move closer so that we can share it. After a little while, he puts his arm over my shoulder and I lean into his chest, feeling immediately comforted by his steady heart beat.
And although I know it's dangerous, I allow myself to drift off in his arms.
To be continued...
word count: 1845