Something Akin to Cabin Fever [Bax]

[Baxley]

Jericho's words hit him hard and he faltered for a moment in his ministrations to glare weakly at the man laying reluctantly under his body. "You may deny it, but when I can feel you and how you act to this those words kind of fall flat, Jeri." His face smoothed out to a smug smirk as he felt Jericho slowly relaxing under him. The pressing needs of Jericho's lusty mind outweighing the ego and pride the man was famous for. Reducing him to thrusting up and barking out commands he wouldn't have before. Silly Jericho though. Didn't he learn?

Baxley turned his head and pressed his lips against Jericho's, sliding his tongue in the other man's mouth and exploring languidly as he had before. Teasing and taunting Jericho into playing for a few minutes only to pull away and bite gently at the man's bottom lip and suck on it.

"Told you already, Jeri," Baxley's smirk was smug when he pulled away from those tempting lips to look down at the man through half lidded eyes, "we're doing this my way tonight."

Baxley slithered his body downward over Jericho's, keeping pressure on him the entire way until he was settled comfortable on his stomach. Resting between Jericho's legs and staring hungrily at the man's pants. A teasing smile lit up his face and he flicked his green eyes up to stare at Jericho. "You're in for a long night, Jeri."

(lol no more for you peeping toms <3 moving this elsewhere now)

[Obelisk]

The light of the dying sun streamed through the window, slowly rising through the room as morning arrived. Brows furrowed as he made the slow ascent to consciousness, mind pulling out from a deep dreamless sleep. His single eye fluttered open and his vision strained against the natural light. A patch work of color and blurred shapes pieced together and snapped into focus. Jericho became aware of two things at that point--

He was in an unfamiliar room.

There was a heavy, boneless weight on top of him.

He dropped his head, realizing then that his wrists were still bound. They ached; his whole damned body ached. A gaze that was clear and free of intoxication settled on the sleeping face of Baxley. The man was thrown over him, face pressed against his chest, arms and legs a haphazard mess. Embarrassment kindled and grew as Jericho’s mind mercilessly recounted the events of the night. He was too proud for this; too proud to succumb to feelings of shame. He steeled himself, worked his expression into a mask of annoyance.

“Baxley.” He warned through grit teeth. “Baxley.” Louder this time. “Oh for maker’s sake! Would you wake up?!” He all but shouted and canted upwards, intent on throwing the sleeping man off of him. Jericho instantly regretted the violent movement when an agonizing pain bit through his entire body. He was sore in places a dominant man such as himself should never be sore. The pain only fueled his anger and he pulled against the restraints in vain frustration.

“Untie me. “ The demand was a rolling growl and his single eye was wild; an animal caught in a snare.

[Baxley]

There was a voice calling to him from his dreams. It was deep and rough and sounded vaguely annoyed with him for whatever reason he couldn't recall right now. Didn't the mysterious voice know he was sleeping, or was it not obvious enough? He grunted loudly and turned his head away from the voice, snuggling deeper with his warm pillow and pointedly ignoring the voice. Whatever the voice wanted it could wait until after he woke up and had his coffee. Stupid voice.

The voice spoke louder this time and he whined loudly, covering his head with his arm like that would block out the sound. "Noooooolemmelone." It didn't. The voice shouted at him but this time his pillow betrayed him! It bucked up wildly and ended up tossing him off it to the side and from there he flailed as his body rolled and he came crashing down to the ground. Cracking the back of his head loudly against the wood floors.

"Son of a fucking BITCH!" Baxley lay curled up on his side, hand clutching at the back of his head as he moaned loudly into his knees. While he lay there moaning in pain and wondering why his head and face ached it all came crashing back to him. Jericho, the spiked drinks, the kissing, tying him up, and everything else. Jericho... "Jericho!"

Baxley jerked his head up and ended up cracking it, again, this time on the bottom of his bed. A string of swears later and he was kneeling up groggily, one hand pressed to his head and the other on the ugly bruised mark starting to form on his cheek. Green eyes blinked confusedly at Jericho for a moment then raised up to the angry red marks around his wrists where the ropes had burned him. "Shit."

That just about summed everything up, yup.

Peeling his aching body from the floor and wandering over to the other side of the bed where his pillow had been shoved, he peeked under it with a frown and fetched the knife he kept there. "If you hit me, I'm stabbing you." Baxley grumbled unhappily and slipped his hand up to slide the knife through the ropes, to tired and in pain to try and actually untie the knots.

[Obelisk]

Hearing Baxley’s skull crack against the ground was like Christmas fucking morning. Jericho grinned a wickedly cruel grin and huffed out a laugh. “Serves you right.” Baxley’s lack of grace in the morning was a balm to Jericho’s wounded pride. He latched onto any opportunity to belittle the other man; it was a way of deflecting. Bax was the one who should feel like an idiot, not Jericho. He had already convinced his self of this.

“You keep a knife under your pillow. On your bed. This bed where we—“ He cut off, unwilling to follow that thought through. “Just hurry up.” The ropes cut free and he could finally move, and when he did, the muscles in his arms protested with throbbing pain. He took to gingerly rubbing at his bruised and reddened wrists, hissing at the persistent burn etched into his flesh. For a long while Jericho paid no attention to Baxley. He did not look at the man. He did not respond to anything he said. That single green eye was trained forward, thoughtful concentration written into his features.

With care, Jericho started to slide to the edge of the bed, gripping the sides with his hands. It hurt to move. It hurt to think about moving. Jericho hid this as best he could; pain he could deal with, the embarrassment, however, was another matter entirely. “I’m going to take a shower.” He stated carefully, annunciating each word as if Baxley was a simpleton. He turned his head and threw a commanding look over his shoulder.

“And you’re going to see about making some coffee.” Jericho was determined to avoid talking about this (whatever this was) until he was clean and dressed. After mentally preparing his self, he pushed off of the bed, gritting through the agony that sliced through his body. His posture was a bit off and his steps short and slow, but he managed to gather his discarded clothing, ignoring Baxley all together as he did so.

He’d disappear into the bathroom and the sound of water rushing through pipes worked through the walls. The temperature of the water was near scalding but it felt like a blessing against aching muscles. A sigh, and then he rested his forehead against the tile, allowing the spray to wash over him and clean the evidence away.

This was why rules were not to be broken. Doing so only managed to complicate things.

[Baxley]

Baxley shrugged his shoulders carelessly and flipped the knife between each hand with the ease of someone who had spent many years with them. "Of course I have one under my pillow. Did you really think I wouldn't? At least you didn't get stabbed... by it." A wide, smug grin stretched his face as he watched Jericho moving slowly. Somewhere in his mind in that twisted part of him he refused to acknowledge he was extremely pleased to be the cause of Jericho's difficulties right now. It served the man right for always getting under Baxley's skin.

"Oh alright, I'll make coffee. I'll even throw breakfast in since if I'm starving, you have to be too." Baxley tilted his head and looked around the room curiously. "If I can find my pants..." While Jericho slipped away to go shower Baxley dropped down to his hands and knees and peered under the bed, tail twitching in annoyance. Where the hell had he thrown his pants last night?

Grunting he reached blindly under the bed and ended up pulling them out and shoving them on messily. Forgoing a shirt for now as he remembered how much trouble he had getting the last one off, he stumbled for the door. Stretching and yawning as he made his way blindly for his kitchen. Coffee and breakfast on his mind.

What did Jericho like for breakfast he mused while shuffling along. When that thought struck him as what he just thought his brows furrowed. Since when did he even care? Bah, whatever. He'd just have to deal with some bacon and eggs since it was quick and easy and he couldn't be bothered with anything else at this time. Mornings were not his favorite time.

It didn't take long for the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast to start filling up the house. His stomach rumbled happily at the prospect of food to fill it soon. By the time it was done Baxley was leaning in the door way and looking down the hallway. Wondering if Jericho had fled or needed help getting out of the shower.

[Obelisk]

He toweled off carefully, mindful of particularly sore areas and took his time. The smell of bacon cut through the steam and soap, and Jericho’s stomach growled appreciatively. He had not noticed just how famished he was. After dressing, he examined his appearance in the mirror, craning his neck and frowning at the sight of multiple hickeys and bite marks. Fingering one the more obvious marks, Jericho sighed and knew that a week’s worth of wearing scarves was a head of him.

Jericho walked down the hallway and spared Baxley a short, testy glance before moving past, taking a seat (carefully) at one of the chairs around the dining table. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, as if willing a headache away. This was him simply trying to grasp the situation, which he ultimately failed to do so. They’d broken one of his cardinal rules – turning business into pleasure—and though he did not want to lose Baxley as an associate, Jericho could not see any other choice.

His mouth formed a thin, deliberating line and he finally chose to acknowledge Baxley. “I take my coffee black. No cream. No sugar.” He informed flatly, raising a brow, indicating that he expected Baxley to play the good host. Jericho did not think the man foolish enough to mess with his food or drink, but would be mindful to watch and check just in case. Once he had his coffee (either by Baxley’s hand or his own), Jericho fell silent, refusing to address the situation until he had caffeine in his system.

Breakfast was a meal he usually chose to keep simple; grapefruit, yogurt, bread and the like. It was not often he indulged in anything heavy. He picked up a piece of bacon and examined it, biting off a piece and chewing thoughtfully. It was good, good enough for him to make a small sound of pleasure at the back of his throat. “I think,” He spoke at last, mindful to swallow before, “ That a new rule is in order.” A vermillion eye flicked up and met Baxley’s gaze. Jericho’s expression left little room for argument.

“No mentioning of last night ever lest you want to see our working relationship permanently severed.” An ultimatum; Jericho liked those, they made him feel in control.

[Baxley]

Green eyes noted each little thing about the way Jericho moved around and stored it in his mind for later. Taking in every little thing that screamed out that the man was in pain no matter how careful he was being to not let it show. Baxley wasn't entirely sure where he sat with the man right now and didn't want to take any chances with it by opening his mouth, so for once he actually kept himself civil and shut the hell up. It wouldn't do to completely piss off one of his best business associates and his closest friend even more so than he already had. Once Jericho had sat down Baxley joined him, bringing the food and coffee along with him.

He made sure to keep himself in view at all times this time when he poured their drinks and would let Jericho take his own food to help bring down any paranoia he might be experiencing. Not that he expected it to work very well. It was Jericho he was talking about. Right now, he honestly didn't expect Jericho to trust him. Hell even he wouldn't trust himself.

While Jericho helped himself with that Baxley made his own plate and dug in quietly. Throwing the odd curious and slightly worried glances at the man near him. He knew there would be consequences for what he had did--What they had did, together--but he wasn't entirely sure what that would entail. The fact that Jericho hadn't punched him out and booked it out of there or slipped out the front door while he was cooking was a good thing. He hoped. You never could tell with Jericho.

Baxley froze at his words and that bright green eye caught his own in a stare that Baxley didn't dare break. There was testing Jericho's patience for fun and games, and then there were times even Baxley knew when to call it quits. Now was one of those times. When Jericho spoke he did so with Baxley's full attention, food and drink forgotten for the time. The words weren't anything he didn't expect, but they did cause the man to sigh.

So it was the whole pretend it never happened thing. Great.

"I kind of figured it would be something like that. That or chopping my dick off." He rolled his eyes and cast an annoyed glance at Jericho before he could open his mouth again. "And no, that was not an offer or a suggestion."

[Obelisk]

“Don’t tempt me,” He warned before shoveling a fork-full of eggs into his mouth. It was a heavier breakfast than he was accustomed to but protein was good after strenuous activity—and why the hell did his mind insist on going back to that. He swallowed and cleared his throat, draining a fair amount of coffee to wash it all down. If he burned his tongue in the process, so be it. He needed the distraction.

Last night may or may not have been a horrible mistake – Jericho was still mulling over that aspect of it—but he knew what he wanted Baxley to believe. His strengths lay in the mastery of the shadows and this included both physical and mental stealth. Manipulation was key. Baxley had never been on the receiving end of Jericho’s true skills and such was the consequence of breaking one of the assassin’s cardinal rules. His masks were many and his ability to wrap his self in emotions (real or not), uncanny. Last night had been Baxley’s game. This day belonged to Jericho.

“If I hear rumors concerning this circulating around-- I will take that as a suggestion. Then I’ll leave it out for your cat to play with or bury. Whatever the hell it is that cats do.” He wasn’t a cat person. Jericho favored dogs and horses. Though he would never admit to it, there were some superstitions that he carried over from his homeland. Cats only brought trouble was of them. Jericho’s eye found Baxley’s tail and he smiled despite himself.

Finishing off his last piece of bacon, Jericho wiped his hands on a napkin, setting it on top of his emptied plate. “I’ll return to Silvereye. Should you hear anything interesting, send word my way. I’ll do the same for you.” Such was their standard method of operation. A return to normalcy should be nice, he thought, and doing so would facilitate the first step in preparing the field for his next moves.

Should he choose to take them.

[Baxley]

"Yes, yes I know. Cut it off and torture me if anyone ever catches word of what happened. I got it when you laid down the law there. Really, I did." Baxley pushed his barely touched plate away from him, suddenly not very hungry at all with his nervous on end as they were. Jericho was being rather... lenient for himself. Baxley really did expect something a bit heavier punishment wise other than what was basically a smack on the hands and a 'Don't ever mention it again'. What was the catch?

When that bright green eye landed on his tail Baxley had to admit it made him just a tad uneasy, especially when Jericho smiled. Nervously he flicked it and pulled it closer to his body while turning his head to stare out his kitchen window. Jericho didn't come outright and say it mercifully, but Baxley really had fucked up that much was sure. Even he could tell he really fucked up. Jericho's mood just unnerved the hell out of him right now. He was used to the man's sudden mood changes, but this was...

Baxley stood up and wandered over to the window eyeing the scuffled paint he had picked loose last night trying to open it before giving up. Absently he figured the chipped paint and frowned while he listened to Jericho talking in the background. Briefly he thought of the trip he was supposed to be taking soon, but doubted it would be worth mentioning. He often took trips out for business. Granted never for this long, but still.

"Mmm, fine by me," Behind him his tail swayed gently as he tuned Jericho out and started to think. Plotting his next move and how he should begin his packing, what he would need, what he might need. It was as good as a goodbye Jericho would receive.