InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "She wore a yellow ribbon."

Zacharias Smith (captainzach) wrote in rent_asunder,
@ 2008-03-14 14:36:00

WHO: Justin and Zach.
WHAT: Zach upset Justin and goes to make sure he's okay.
WHEN: 13 March, night.
WHERE: Justin's flat.
RATING: PG-13 for now
Incomplete

Zach was a total git. He was well aware of this and often regarded it as more of an advantage than people gave it credit for. After all, being a git apparently meant that he spoke his mind, talked about things as they were, challenged authority that rightly needed to be challenged, and was otherwise just painfully honest. ...The "painfully" part was the downside, and it just seemed like Zach would never bother to bloody learn how to be a git without being so unnecessarily tactless -- like tonight. Nominally, he knew that he should've known better about pushing camping on Justin in the first place, and that he should've thought better about the bloody snakes, but he obviously hadn't, and now Justin was having a fucking crisis.

For as much as he picked on Justin, Zach really did like the other bloke. It sort of went without saying that, as Hufflepuffs (and, for Zach, as a painfully honest Hufflepuff), they wouldn't have been friends if they hadn't liked each other. Or, at least Zach wouldn't have been friends with Justin if he hadn't liked Justin, and, contrary to how he acted, he really did feel bad when he upset his friend too badly. This snakes bit tonight? That was upsetting him too badly -- and, as such, Zach wasted no time in getting to Justin's flat. All he did before Apparating there was gather up a selection of sweets (peppermint mice, Chocolate Frogs, and a few Sugar Quills), throw on his jacket, and stop at the Muggle chemist's by his own flat to buy Justing a small stack of fashion magazines. The prat probably already had them, or Zach wouldn't have been surprised if he had, but it was the thought that counted, right? Once he was at Justin's, Zach tucked his presents under one arm and rapped loudly on the door.

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jacffiiesq
2008-03-14 07:25 pm UTC (link)

Maybe he was being melodramatic. Maybe he was overreacting, just a little bit, or maybe that shadow underneath the coffee table was something slender and serpentine, waiting for him to let down his guard. Justin tried looking around his flat for a surface he could settle his eyes on without panicking, settling on his journal for half a second before growing paranoid over not being able to see what was around him and being forced to look back under the coffee table. Which was, of course, devoid of snakes (for now).

It wasn't Zach's fault, really. Yes it was, of course it was, but considering the fact his panic attack had been brought on by Zach and Rose was probably upset with Justin for it, Justin was indescribably relieved by the knowledge that Zach would be over shortly. After all, there was a reason Justin was friends with the infamous Hufflepuff prick -- because he could probably kill snakes without hesitation. Other things, too, but that was definitely a major plus.

Justin nearly jumped off his sofa when Zach knocked, swallowing in an attempt to calm his agitated nerves. "Zach?" he called out feebly and, after clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, added "you can come in. I really -- " and honestly believe there is a nest of Ashwinders by the coatrack? " -- don't want to get up right now."

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captainzach
2008-03-15 05:17 am UTC (link)

Merlin's saggy left tit, Justin was worse off than Zach had planned on, if he wasn't going to bloody well get up and open the door on his own -- clearly, Zach had a lot to come in and apologize for. Honestly, what in the Hell had he been thinking? He knew that Justin was opposed to filth and too much physical exertion (like camping), and he knew that Justin was afraid of snakes -- what he'd done just wasn't bloody right. At least, once he had Justin calmed down, the chances of him holding a grudge were rather small, since... well. It was Justin. Hopefully, for being worse off than Zach had imagined, Justin wouldn't be as bad as he could be.

Zach gave a small sigh as he mentally prepared himself for whatever kind of Justin-shaped mess was inside the flat, and, after a brief moment, he let himself in. He shifted the presents again, so the sweets wouldn't melt, and spotted Justin on the couch; he didn't even bother trying to maintain his semblances of dignity, he rushed over and began fussing. In his very special Zach way. "Fucking hell, mate," he sighed agitatedly. "You look like shite -- I'm so, so sorry, I really didn't mean to get you so upset and all, and -- where are the snakes now -- you know I didn't mean to, right? I, I, I -- here." Pausing his rambling and setting down the sweets, he held up the stack of magazines. "You probably already have them, but I thought you'd like them... the, I mean... the clothes are suitably pretty."

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jacffiiesq
2008-03-15 06:24 am UTC (link)

Justin blinked stupidly at Zach's logorrhea, his mind catching on 'you look like shite.' He supposed he did, half-dressed in an undershirt and the nice khaki's he'd been planning on showing off to Rose, cramped into the furthest corner of his couch as if he were trying to melt into it, his journal clutched to his chest. Still, his hair wasn't bad or anything -- shite was a strong word for it -- ruffled, maybe. He could see ruffled. Or terrified. He reached a hand up to flatten his hair just in case, looking between Zach and the coffee table.

"You should probably not stand there," he said, nibbling at his thumb, "because if you stand there I am going to think about -- things -- " Justin made a vague motion that presumably was supposed to represent a snake biting Zach's leg from underneath the table, a mental image that was suddenly incredibly vivid and unnerving to the extreme. Justin brought his journal up to cover his face, counted ten, and mumbled "just sit down, please."

He took a deep breath, about to say something that was probably significant, appreciative or angry; instead, he exclaimed "is that the new Glamour?" and reached out to quickly grab the first magazine off the pile, clutching it to his chest in the same position he'd held his journal earlier. "Zach," Justin said, glancing at the coffee table fleetingly to reassure himself that it wasn't crawling with snakes as he flipped through the glossy pages of the magazine, "you really didn't have to -- what on earth is that? That's not retro, that is unspeakable." Justin grimaced at the magazine, distracted from the uncomfortable, paranoid prickling of the back of his neck.

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