Dirk: > Be the good boyfriend.

[sickheartbeats]

[It's VALENTINE'S MORNING, early as shit, but the apple of your eye has a tendency to rise at ungodly hours, so you're not surprised to find him in the kitchen barely past seven.

You're also not a fan of COMMERCIAL HOLIDAYS and ROMANCE ON DEMAND, but the two of you haven't been on a proper official date in a while, so you might as well. Surely he's bigger on the idea of chocolates and roses than you ever could be, being SUAVE ENGLISH, MAN OF HEARTTHROBS.]

Hey.
Sup.

Comments

[fightingcargos]

Mornin!

[You continue making your fry-up. The eggs here still taste weird, to you.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You sidle up to him from behind and give him his daily waist squeeze in an ironic mockup of domesticity. He's almost gotten you used enough to greasy breakfast to appreciate the smell of grilled sausages, now.]

Sleep well?

[fightingcargos]

Not so much actually! Im not sure why.
You? As if i have to ask haha.

[sickheartbeats]

Yeah, you really don't have to.
I had a good night, though.
The microwave now has a grill function.
You're welcome.

[fightingcargos]

Oh awesome!
Maybe now i can nuke sausages without them exploding.

[sickheartbeats]

Dirk: > Set the table.

[It's just plates and forks and a can of soda, but sure.]

They don't explode if you time your nuking, but it should be easier now, anyway.

[fightingcargos]

They dont?
...I have wasted so many sausages.

[sickheartbeats]

Jake English, Destroyer of Wieners.
Good going, bro.

[fightingcargos]

[You snort and separate your breakfast on two plates.]

Welp! Live and learn i guess.

[sickheartbeats]

Thanks.

[You eat in what you deem a comfortable kind of silence mostly by virtue of NOT BEING A MORNING PERSON, even if you didn't just get up.]

[fightingcargos]

[Are the eggs not as fresh or something? Whatever. Nothing more pepper can't fix.]

[sickheartbeats]

So, what's the plan?
It's a big day for lovers of love and sugar highs.
Are you feeling up to the challege?

[fightingcargos]

[You look up, but... kind of sigh?]

Um...

[sickheartbeats]

[Well, if that's not a face of enthusiasm.

You feel as if you'd just put on your new white sneakers and jumped in a puddle. Let's see what's salvageable.]

Yeah?

[fightingcargos]

I dont know. Im not really feeling it today?
Maybe im tired.
I didnt think youd be into this stuff to be honest!

[sickheartbeats]

[You're not into this stuff, you're into him. The rest was just an opportunity presenting itself. Maybe you'd do better to check with your boyfriend instead of the calendar, first. Ugh.

All these things you no longer feel like explaining due to the HEAVY FEELING IN YOUR STOMACH. What's wrong with these eggs?]

That's cool, I guess.
I just figured it's been a while.

[fightingcargos]

Has it been? How long?

[sickheartbeats]

I don't know, a month?
I haven't been countin' the days.

[fightingcargos]

Oh.
...Huh. I guess youre right! Weird.

[sickheartbeats]

[Alright, so he didn't even notice. You can deal with that. He is, after all, Jake English.]

Kind of weird.
But if you're feeling under the weather...

[fightingcargos]

You didnt sleep too.
I guess youre used to it though. I dunno.
Did you have plans?

[sickheartbeats]

No big deal schemes.
We can always do stuff some other time.

[fightingcargos]

Yeah.

[You finish up breakfast and bring your plate to the sink, rinsing off the grease.]

So a grill function huh?

[sickheartbeats]

Yeah. Sweet stuff.
I'll probably add an iron roast for the perfect steak pattern or whatever.
Since I now have some time to kill.

[fightingcargos]

Haha man that would be sweet.
Well! Im off.

[sickheartbeats]

Where to?

[fightingcargos]

Just a run.
I figure maybe itll get me out of this funk. That works sometimes.

[sickheartbeats]

Alright.
Let me know how it goes.
If you change your mind or anything.

[fightingcargos]

Sure!
Bye dirk.

[You step out. It's a beautiful day! A little breezy, and not too warm--perfect for a run around the perimeter.]

Jake: > Run.

[sickheartbeats]

[You watch him go and finally realize you've been picking at your bacon for five minutes. Maybe you'll just microwave it later. You have important things to do, like forging a grillage.

And stuff.

Jesus, did he ever sound bored. You almost hope it's because he's tired.]

[fightingcargos]

[Oh man, look at that tree! That thing is BEGGING for a treehouse. You know what you're gonna be up to tomorrow!]

[sickheartbeats]

[You don't come up with anything more awesome create with your sudden cesspool of free time, so you retreat to your workshop with measurements of your microwave and a pair of leather gloves -- fingers included.

Good thing you soundproofed this thing. You have to switch playlists before you start blaring music, because last you turned this thing on it was to work on a mixed tape for your boyfriend.

A world of whatever.

Sigh.]

[fightingcargos]

[You climb up the tree. It's so spacious! You can't quite see Boner City from here, but you do have a good view otherwise.]

[sickheartbeats]

[Nothing like some iron and fire to the sound of some GLITCH MOB REMIXED classic rock'n'roll. Sometimes sick rhymes don't cut the blacksmith mood.]

[You do this for an hour before you feel like taking a shower again, even thought it's only been five hours since your last.

Instead, you decide to check in with Jake.]

--timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT]--
TT: Hey.
TT: How are you doing?

[fightingcargos]

[You check your phone.]

[...Huh! That was... thirty minutes to yourself. Okay?]

GT: Oh hi!
GT: I found a really kickin tree.
GT: Im thinking about building a little something up here!
GT: Maybe just a platform.

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Productive.
Do I take that to mean you're feeling any better?

[fightingcargos]

GT: Sort of.
GT: Im probably going to take a nap when i get back.

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Good idea.
TT: I could probably use one, too.

[Dirk. What are you doing, Dirk. You're not even that tired.

Except suddenly your heart feels the part.]

[fightingcargos]

GT: Really?

[Some part of you suddenly doesn't want to take a nap. You dub this part of you "really dumb."]

GT: I guess you could always use more sleep huh?

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Yeah, I'm getting kind of cranky, hate to admit.
TT: If you take too long I'll get my snuggle on with Cal instead.

[fightingcargos]

GT: I might be out for a while honestly.
GT: I wanted to see if the arts and crafts hut has any proper planks.

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Ok.
TT: Cool.
TT: This round goes to the C-Man.

[fightingcargos]

GT: Say hello to him for me!

-- golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]--

[He really does need a nap, you think. Or you'd like him to need one.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You might not need a nap, but you do need a minute with your guardian. Unfortunately, the griddle is only half finished, so that will have to wait.]

[fightingcargos]

Jake: > Check for planks.

[In a minute. You like the quiet, up here.]