bakerstreet | [ tfln. ]

[ He can't possibly look as trashed as Matt does right now. He hasn't got yesterday's make-up smeared anywhere because he doesn't wear any, there aren't any cuts or scrapes on him because drunk him is awesome and cannot get hurt ever, and really the only things off about him are the dark circles under his eyes, the absolute bird's nest his hair has become, and the fact that he'd managed to only get himself half undressed before collapsing last night. Somehow his shirt is hanging from only one arm and his fly is completely undone, and he's only wearing one striped sock. ]

Yeah, well, I was wrong. You're no Hungarian Horntail, Matt, you're like Smaug. You're pure Smaug right now, look at you. C'mere with that, yeah that's all there is. [ Groaning, Jakob sits up with monumental effort and pats his bed -- sit! -- then grabs a few tissues before knocking the tissue box onto the floor. The nerve of it. ] Gravityyy...

[Matt's jaw hangs open and his eyes narrow as Jakob talks. Did he just... He did. Which means Matt reels his arm back and heaves the phone at him, nailing the bed near where he pats. To be fair, he did say that was his scale.]

Even at my Smaugest I look better than you right now. [Like a newborn deer he makes his way to the bed, snorting indignantly as he sits. Stands back up, scoops his phone up. Sits back down.]

I don't know why I'm agreeing to this. [He groans and tosses the bottle back at Jakob and pulls his sleeve up all the way to open access to the scratches and road burn on his shoulder and upper arm.] If I die, you're sorting my affairs.

A guy can still look good with a hangy shirt and pants-- [ Wait, shit, wait a second! He quickly reaches down and does up his fly. Much better, much more gentlemanly now. ] Anyway! You get points for moving as far as you did. Anyway, god, how'd you even get this? Did you fall down some stairs? I don't remember asking or I don't remember your answer, one of those two.

[ Alright, he's got to be careful here. Vodka, meet tissues. Very good. Get nice and wet. Niiiice, great. ] This is probably going to hurt like a bitch and I'm sorry. [ With that, Jakob mercilessly starts rubbing, and it... sort of works? It's getting some of it off, anyway. ]

Nothing to worry about, you're not gonna die. It's coming off, look! [ Like a good friend, he shows him, grinning proudly. ]

A guy, sure. Not you though. [SCOFF] I - Shit, I was hoping you knew. All I remember is a lot of screaming. And music. I'm pretty sure I threw up, at least.

[CLASSY.

Anyway, Matt sucks in a sharp breath when the tissue makes contact. It hurts, but he's not sure if it's worse than the growing throb in his head or not. Either way he takes the pain well, sighing through it.]

Are you sure you're not rubbing it in deeper?

Jesus, listen to yourself. All of last night and this entire morning is the reason websites like texts from last night and fmylife exist. We are poster children right now, Matt, they'd be wise to use pictures of us on their home pages. [ Still rubbing, and trying to get the last drops of vodka onto the tissues in between!

But hey wait-- ] The hell do you mean not me. I modeled men's underwear to get through undergrad, you know! This is exactly the kind of... sexy, manly look I spent years perfecting.

[ He's lying. He's a lying liar, and now he's most definitely starting to rub the glitter in deeper, pouting as he goes. Model or not, that's just insulting! ]

Oh, please. We aren't the alpha and omega of drunken idiocy, I promise you.

[He has seen. Some shit. Okay. But something distract him from his memories.]

Shit! Do you think you could inject it straight into my bloodstream, mate? [Matt winces away and glares] And I've seen - It isn't.

Says the man with glitter in his veins and nothing to lose. [ EYEROLL. ] I'm trying to help, stop your blubbering. And you've seen what, drunken idiocy? Plenty of underwear ads?

[ He eases up a little, mostly because he's pretty sure he just caused Matt to start bleeding. And also the tissue's starting to fall apart. ] Uh. I think getting any more off is gonna be a bust. You should try a shower. Or a doctor. Probably both. Maaaybe at the same time, I wouldn't judge.

Says the one who put the glitter in my veins. [Groan] Both. Possibly yours.

[Matt's eyes narrow as he examines Jakob's work.] You made it worse! How did you - Ugh! [He wipes at the scratches angrily, smearing a few tiny drops of blood across his hand and arm. Upset, he does the only logical thing left to do; He yanks his shirt off and throws it across the room in a huff.] Fuck! I've probably got all the hepatitises by now.

[With that he stands up and paces a minute] If I end up dead from this, I want you to know that I plan to haunt you forever.

Thaaaat's unlikely. It was probably a guy who just looked like me, on both counts but especially the underwear one.

[ But then Matt goes crazy and starts undressing and hey! ] Excuse me, you're fine, there's no need to get naked! It's not worse, I got plenty off, just look at this!

[ Except Matt's not looking. And if he's not looking, that means Jakob can look at him as he starts to pace. He almost misses Matt's latest jibe -- almost. He actually scrambles to his feet after Matt, his shirt falling to the floor beside his bed and finally finishing its journey off of his body eight hours later than it should have. It's very dramatic, probably. ]

Are you serious? Do you really think you could? I've always wanted to experience a ghost haunting, and -- I mean, you'll be fine and all but it's the thought that counts. [ He's touched! There are stars in his eyes. ]

[Jakob's talking, but Matt's not really paying much attention - The limit of his response is a frustrated groan and a wave of his hand. Shhhushuhsuhh, he's being dramatic, don't ruin this for him.

Which works well with Jakob's equally dramatic (probably) scrambling. The immediate distraction is the only thing that stops Matt's pacing.] What -

[Well, that backfires on him. Great. He runs his hands through his hair (again, very dramatically) and sighs. Heavily.] Fine! I'll haunt everyone but you, then. [Take that!]

[ tfln. ]

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