Kennedy (hearnoevil) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2024-02-03 09:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | #july 2018, kennedy, kennedy x moth, moth |
Who: Moth and Kennedy
When: Thursday 7/12
Where: On the Road - Juniper
Status: complete
Kennedy didn’t really know where they were, but it didn’t much matter to him either. He tended to lose track of time and space when they were traveling, even when he was driving, but especially when he wasn’t. It was a liminal space, being in the van with Moth. He would read or sketch while Moth blasted something with a heavy bassline so Kennedy could feel it. Sometimes he would crawl in the back of the van to stretch out on the cot back there for a nap, the steady vibrations from the tires and the subwoofer lulling him into silent dreams. He didn’t bother wearing his aids most of the time when they were in the van, they could communicate without audible words by now, between facial expressions, sign, and palm-taps. Kennedy liked the freedom of not worrying about them, and Moth could have his music as loud as he wanted.
It was another familiar road trip as they drove north toward Maine, and Kennedy was in the passenger seat, his tongue caught between his lips as he concentrated on the sketch pad propped up against his crossed leg. The place they were going now sounded promising from everything he’d read online, and he was getting cautiously excited about the new season of the podcast. Kennedy tried not to get really excited about much of anything, life was continually disappointing and shitty around the edges, but sometimes things worked out, and there seemed to be a lot of meat in this town to sink their teeth into. So to speak.
Damn, now he was hungry. Kennedy looked up from his sketching and reached over to nudge Moth’s arm. He raised a brow and made the sign for “food,” his expression turning it into a question. They’d been driving for a while, it seemed like a good time to stop and grab some fuel for themselves and stretch their legs.
Moth had always liked driving alone way more than driving with others, until he started working with Kennedy. He could listen to damn near anything and sing along badly all he wanted and Kennedy didn't care - unless he had his hearing aids in which he hardly ever did. They'd been on the road for hours and would be on the road for hours more and he wasn't stoned so he barely noticed he was hungry until Kennedy nudged him and raised his hand to his mouth in one of the first signs Moth had learned. "Huh, yeah, yeah," Moth murmured under the music, nodding slowly as he started looking around for a place to stop. They had options, the highways were littered with junk food places. "ARBY" he spelled out before giving Kennedy a questioning glance and turning down the radio to hear him if he actually replied out loud. Kennedy could speak just fine, it was just his hearing that was fucked and Moth needed to lower the volume anyway to drive better. It was a whole thing.
The humming of the bass in the car went down, but Kennedy had no sense of how low it was, so he just gave a thumbs up when Moth glanced over. He didn’t get too picky about fast food when they were traveling but once they settled in somewhere he liked to scope out the actual good local restaurants. He couldn’t eat like shit all the time. But Arby’s was fine for now. He flipped his sketchbook closed and twisted around to toss it into the back, then bent over to get his sneakers back on. He hated riding shotgun for too long with his shoes on, but he didn’t mind wearing them while he was driving, it was a weird contradiction. “Think we’ll make it there tonight?” he asked out loud, looking over at Moth. Reading lips from side profile was more difficult, but they’d spent enough time together that he’d gotten pretty good at it with Moth.
Moth shrugged because he honestly had no idea. Time was a weird concept and life tended to be full of surprises, getting somewhere on time wasn't really his forte. So he gave Kennedy his best 'maybe' shrug, not too bothered about it. They had a room for the next couple of nights at some place called Juniper and after that they'd get the keys to their Airbnb and get settled for the next couple of weeks. Roland and Nessie would show up whenever they showed up and they could all start working on the Maine exclusive of their show. If they needed to stop by a motel on the way and forgo the first night at Juniper, that was on Roland's dime too so Moth didn't really care. Hell, he could probably keep driving for a while too.
Staying at a hotel on the road versus a hotel in the town itself wouldn’t make too much difference, Kennedy knew that. Usually he was just as nonchalant about when they would get somewhere, but something about Point Pleasant made him eager to get there. Oh well, it would happen soon, even if they spent another night in a cheap Motel 6 off the highway. Kennedy didn’t know the room arrangements yet at Juniper, but he knew there would be separate bedrooms at the Airbnb house, and he secretly kind of liked sharing a room with Moth, so he would take the extra night. Kennedy huffed a bit of amusement and nodded, his gaze ticking away to watch the terrain as they took the exit that would lead them to Arby’s. As soon as the van was parked he was out of it, his arms lifting for an indulgent stretch in the sunshine, a groan escaping him.
Moth had spent so long just driving along, following his phone's instructions, he really felt like he had no concept of where they really were. It was a familiar feeling, not one he really minded - if anything it brought him back to being a kid in a car, spacing out in the back seat. Only this time he was driving. The difference was far smaller than people realized, it was spooky easy to go on auto pilot and just go. He grinned to himself at Kennedy's little stretch and groan, watching him for a beat before he strolled past him toward the restaurant. He'd been in the States for long enough now that he didn't feel as lost but he could still feel that sense of oddness to it, especially when he was on the road and in unfamiliar places.
Kennedy fell into step behind Moth, glancing around the parking lot as they crossed it, his hands dipping into his jeans pockets. He was on guard to a certain degree, as he always was in public, but he wasn’t as tense as he could be since Moth was with him. Traveling with a black man with an odd accent in the United States came with extra reasons to be edgy, but having him there to take cues from definitely made it easier to navigate the hearing world. Kennedy stuck close to him as they walked into the restaurant. He looked over the menu posted on the wall behind the registers and put his order in, then moved aside so Moth could do the same. Before too long they had food and drinks and were settling into a seat to eat it. “I texted Roland again earlier,” Kennedy said, glancing up at Moth. “No answer yet.”
Moth smirked and signed Typical back at him and it was funny how often he used that sign, especially when talking about Roland. He had a lot to learn when it came to ASL but he was a quick learner and Kennedy was pretty good at reading lips when he didn't have his aid in so that made it easier to learn too. He'd never thought being deaf was as big of a social deal as it was, like people were just nice to disabled people or something but as it turned out a whole bunch of people were shitty about it. It shouldn't come to a surprise to someone who had the front row seats to shitty behavior but it kind of did anyway. He often made a point of shielding Kennedy from it because his buddy had a temper. "Did you try Nessie?" he asked and signing at least partially had become a habit when he spoke, though some words didn't come as easy as others.
Moth was proving to be a quick study at ASL, and the fact that he wanted to learn at all meant more to Kennedy than he could accurately express, with his mouth or his hands. Moth being so good at it only added to everything else that made him so attractive. Kennedy’s gaze ticked between Moth’s lips and his hands as he spelled out Nessie’s name. He shook his head and signed along with his spoken words too. Even though Moth could hear him just fine, it was good practice to see both together. “No, I try not to unless it’s an emergency ... remember when he threw a fit in Salem?” Kennedy rolled his eyes a bit. Roland was a necessary part of the whole operation, the podcast definitely wouldn’t have made it as far as it had without him, but he could be a real asshole sometimes. Roland had too much to drink one night when they were researching for their Salem episodes, and he’d been very irate that Kennedy had been texting Nessie instead of him.
"So jealous," Moth sing-songed with a little laugh and of course the little song was lost on Kennedy but that had never really mattered. He could think of a few possible reasons why Roland was nervous about his girlfriend around Kennedy and not him and none of them were really great. He liked to think a lot of it had to do with him getting along better with Roland than Kennedy did. Moth was just easy going all around while Kennedy had a temper and tended to clash more with their showrunner. Not that he really trusted either of them to be alone around Nessie which always struck him as a red sign for their relationship. "As long as the hotel is ready for us, I don't care," he added even if he did care a little. It wasn't really like Roland to leave them hanging, he tended to micro manage them a little and it was always nice to have Nessie tag along for interviews. A white girl put people at ease.
Kennedy rolled his eyes a bit and waved a hand at the jealous bit. He liked Vanessa well enough, and he thought she definitely deserved better than Roland, but that ‘better’ definitely wasn’t him. He had no interest in her, and it was most likely mutual. No, Vanessa wasn’t the one who’d captured Kennedy’s attention. Yeah, it better be, he signed, then let his eyes drop to unwrap his food to start to dig in. If Roland had left them high and dry on the hotel, they could take care of it themselves ... Kennedy just didn’t want to. This wasn’t exactly a lucrative career, even though their show was picking up a following and climbing the streaming charts. Roland could afford it, he came from money, but he and Moth were a different story. He wanted a bed that didn’t suck and a bathtub he wasn’t grossed out to sit down in. Kennedy fell into eating, but his blue eyes ticked back to Moth’s face every few seconds.
It was nice to wind down for a bit and not have to worry about driving. Moth still took a moment to look up traffic conditions and how long it might take them to get to Point Pleasant from here because if they had to stay in a different hotel he wanted to get that all sorted. He was happy to see it'd only take four more hours so they should make it in time to check in and sleep. He didn't really think much of Kennedy looking at him a lot, used to the intense staring and attributing it to the fact Kennedy couldn't hear him so he needed to be alert to know if he was saying anything. That didn't mean it didn't affect him, but he was used to that by now. He didn't need to stare back, Kennedy could easily get his attention so he browsed his phone instead, laughing at a comment he got and raising his phone for Kennedy to see it. Mothman Roche in Point Pleasant, finally! Just the wrong state. "They missed it when we went to Virginia, I guess," he said, probably making a few mistakes in signing that out but Kennedy was used to that by now.
He stared at a lot of people in his life, because hearing people tended to just start talking without getting his eyes on them first. Moth didn’t really do that, he always seemed to be so aware of Kennedy and what he needed. It made Kennedy want to stare at him even more, even if it wasn’t exactly necessary. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes. And the soul, really. Moth just gave off good chill vibes. Kennedy leaned forward to read the screen, then laughed a bit. “Tell them to scroll back six months,” he said and signed, smirking a bit. Kennedy took a bite of his burger, and added just with his hands, Those were good episodes. The fans had loved all of the jokes tossed in about their own Mothman. “We got in so much fan art of you, sitting up in trees with big black wings,” he said after he’d washed his food down, flashing Moth a little grin.
"I know, I got one framed on my wall," Moth replied with a cheeky grin before slowly signing VAIN. It hadn't been so much about vanity as it had been about the piece of art being both gorgeous and hilarious, plus the fan had sent him a nice print so how could he not hang it. He'd never imagined himself as someone who'd get fanart made of himself but the show had changed all that. They might not have a massive following, but they had some nicely crazy fans out there that he absolutely adored -- and some who were a little scary but they'd never caused problems for them. It had been a while since he was in his own apartment with all his things and Kennedy had never been there. Their friendship had been strictly work related but it felt like so much more than that with the way they tended to spend weeks together, on the road and in Airbnbs.
Kennedy laughed, a little snorting honk in the sound that he was never aware of. He realized the same way that he’d never seen Moth’s walls himself. They’d had a few video calls where he’d caught glimpses of Moth’s place, but he’d never been there himself. Nor had Moth been to his apartment ... which was probably for the best, the place was kind of a mess. It was hard to keep stuff clean when he was barely there, always roaming around the country, collecting stories, making art. It honestly was a charmed fucking life, and Kennedy felt incredibly lucky that he’d fallen in with these people completely by accident, even when Roland was being a dickhead. Moth and the end product made it all worth it. “Our very own cryptid,” he said, fingers flying through the spelling of the last word. There wasn’t a sign for it specifically, just ‘monster,’ and Moth definitely wasn’t that. “You make us more legit.”
"Bet," Moth tittered and shook his hands in a little cheering motion before digging into his food again. Working with Roland before Kennedy joined them had been okay but things lately had been way more fun. He and Kennedy made a good team and it always struck him as interesting how well they got along. They didn't really have much in common other than the show, Kennedy couldn't hear - even with his aid in, sounds were distorted and often uncomfortable. In the meantime sound was Moth's whole life. He'd grown up with musicians, learned how to play instruments, learned how to manipulate sound, how to mix and bring out the best in the environment. He'd done work in recording studios and TV before getting this fun little gig that paid far more than it should. Kennedy couldn't hear any of that. And yet, they were both artistic souls, the whole vibe between them was chill and that stupid cute sound Kennedy made when he laughed never failed to make Moth giggle.
Kennedy couldn't appreciate music the same way hearing people did, but he hadn't been deaf his entire life, and he remembered the feeling a good song could create. He still felt that deep wonder and connection when he got carried away by a solid beat ... something that happened fairly often when he was with Moth. The man had great taste in music, as far as Kennedy could tell. He preferred just vibing to the bass in the van rather than trying to listen to the warped ‘full’ version he got with his hearing aids in. They were useful for some things and he was happy to have them sometimes, but music deserved better. He didn't often get emotional about his disability anymore, but occasionally jealousy reared its ugly head in him over music. It was what he missed the most. Kennedy felt pretty fucking content at the moment though, finishing up his junk food with the man who was more or less his best friend. They chatted a bit more, and Moth made him honk-laugh again, and then it was time to get back on the road. "Gotta piss,” Kennedy signed as he stood up.
Piss off Moth signed back with a grin and while Kennedy was away he looked at some more Point Pleasant groups to get a better feel for the place. Everyone he'd told they were going to Point Pleasant, Maine, had corrected him and said Virginia. It was like nobody had really heard of this place but its history was insane and still there seemed to be a decent amount of tourists there. There was apparently some art festival happening tomorrow and Moth sent the link to Kennedy, certain they'd wanna check that out. They had a couple of days before they needed to get to work but he was already there in his mind, researching the people that had agreed to interviews since Roland wasn't really pulling his weight right now. Moth might worry that he'd gotten bored with the podcast, rich people were unpredictable that way, but he'd already invested a lot so they could keep going for at least a few months more even if Roland backed out - maybe even longer if they got some good sponsors.
Kennedy took care of business in the empty restroom, and once he’d washed his hands he got a few paper towels wet to wipe his face off. They’d been on the road for a long time, with even longer to go, and he was beyond ready for a shower. He fussed with his hair a bit in the mirror -- it still looked like a curly mess when he was done, but it was a better curly mess. Kennedy had pulled his phone out and was following the link Moth had messaged him as he walked back to their table. He was smiling as he plunked back down in his seat and looked up at his partner. He couldn’t really take over as a host of the show for obvious reasons, unless they made the switch to video, but Kennedy had faith that the podcast would carry on even if Roland dropped out. Moth was an amazing host and the writing was so good. Kennedy just handled the equipment and made the visual art for the show, Roland talked into the microphone and funded the credit cards, but Moth was the heart of it all. “We’re going to this, hope you know,” Kennedy said and signed, then tapped his phone. “You’re committed now. Ready to bail? Want me to drive?”
Moth wouldn't have shared it if he had no intention of going. An outdoor artsy market sounded like fun, if a little dangerous for his wallet, and he thought it'd be a great place to get a feeling for the town and maybe even meet some locals. Nessie had set up some interviews already but they'd so often gotten their best material with no preparation at all. Nothing really beat the organic way of getting to know a place and searching the internet could only do so much. "Nah I'll drive," he said and signed since he was in a good headspace for it and he was pretty sure Kennedy was still working on his art. It was also easier to talk to Kennedy when he wasn't the one who needed to be watching the road. "You drive too slow," he added with a titter, even if he was the one more likely to not exceed the limit.
His brows shot up with amused indignation. “Me? Give me a break, grandma,” Kennedy shot back with his mouth and hands, then grinned. He did tend to be a speed demon on an open stretch of rural road -- which they were on a lot of the time, honestly. He shook his head and snickered as he gathered up their trash, then stood again to toss it out so they could get back to the van. He didn’t mind Moth doing more of the driving, though he would’ve been happy to split it up with him. Not being in charge of the wheel just meant he could zone out and daydream, get lost in his art and the thud of the bass in the vehicle. It was nice. Once Moth was ready too, he headed for the restaurant door.
As they headed to the car, Moth tried Roland's phone. He didn't often call him but if Roland wasn't answering emails or texts then a phone call it was. Take that, asshole. It went straight to voicemail and there really wasn't anything urgent going on so Moth didn't leave a message. Roland would just get back to them when he was able, that's how that usually went. Only a few more hours and they'd be at the hotel and because Moth was a little paranoid, he made sure to call the place up before they hit the road again to double check that there were rooms waiting for them. He got in the car after the call and nudged Kennedy to get his attention. "Roland's being cheap," he said. "Only got one room. Sorry, dude." Juniper was all booked up otherwise, they didn't even have their own bathroom so maybe it had less to do with Roland being a cheapskate and more to do with supply and demand.
While Moth was making calls, Kennedy settled into the van again, slouching comfortably with his sketchpad in his hands once more. He’d been in a bit of an artistic rut lately, nothing really new coming out from his pastels, and he was hoping that Point Pleasant would be inspiring. He was also hoping they would get more than one episode out of the place and this wasn’t all a big waste of time. Kennedy looked over at the nudge, his eyes on Moth’s lips as he spoke. Only one room? It made his chest tingle a little, and Kennedy had to put on a disappointed face. He liked close quarters with Moth, probably too much. Kennedy was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his feelings as a crush, he just liked the man. It was normal to like his friends, right? Even if only one of them occasionally crossed his mind when he was jerking off ... “Too bad, I have to put up with your snoring again,” he joked, signing along with his words.
"Long suffering," Moth agreed with a slow nod and a sympathetic smile, reaching over to give Kennedy's shoulder a squeeze. Kennedy would never torment himself by wearing his hearing aid to sleep so Moth never needed to worry about waking him up. He had no idea if he snored, nobody had complained about it and he hadn't actually spent the night with anyone in a while in a way where they actually talked afterwards. There was a sense of privacy he retained with Kennedy because of his lack of hearing that was nice - even if it could also be a hindrance. At least he knew how to get his attention; just flick the lights. "I'll buy you a coffee if I keep you up," he added and rubbed his chest to indicate he was indeed very sorry.
Kennedy literally didn't know if Moth snored, or talked in his sleep, or anything of the kind. The good thing was he couldn't care less. As long as he wasn't ripping farts toxic enough to wake Kennedy up, he could be as loud as he wanted at night. More than once, Kennedy had even entertained a little fantasy of waking up to find that Moth had brought someone back to their room to fool around with ... sometimes he daydreamed about just watching, hypnotized by the play of muscle under dark skin, by Moth's natural grace. Other times he wanted to be invited in, lost between two warm bodies, hands and mouths and hot breath everywhere ... In reality, Kennedy was sure Moth would never be so inconsiderate to try and get laid while Kennedy was asleep in the same room, which was nice and a pity at the same time. Hell, Kennedy didn't even know what kind of people Moth was into. They didn't talk much about dating or sex. Two coffees, he signed with a smirk. Minimum.
Moth laughed and shook his head as if in dismay, oblivious to Kennedy's thoughts. So much of their conversations were nonverbal signs and facial expressions and he gave Kennedy an amused sidelong glance before starting the car. "I'll even use my own card," he said to make it mean something since nearly everything they did these days was on Roland's dime. The music started blaring a second later when his phone connected but that was one of the upsides to their conversations, he didn't need to lower the volume. The bass went straight through him and made him start dancing a little in his seat, singing along. He often sent the lyrics to his favorite songs to Kennedy if he seemed to really enjoy the beat and on occasion - when not driving, he signed along the words he knew. It made for great practice and gave him a reason to look up the most random things.
Hanging out with Moth had definitely enhanced Kennedy's musical experiences. Sometimes when Moth was driving and singing, Kennedy just stared at his mouth, reading his lips and fitting the words into the bass vibrations in his mind. Some songs made it easier than others, but it really made him feel more like he was "listening" to it. Plus Moth's little driving-dance moves were pretty fucking cute. Kennedy bobbed his head along with the beat as they left the Arby's behind and headed for the highway again. They filled the next several hours jamming and vibing together, Kennedy sketching away until they started to really lose daylight. After a ride through the woods that seemed to take an eternity, they were finally driving back into civilization, a small town unfolding around them. Kennedy sat up straighter to look around, always interested in first impressions of a place.
As soon as Moth noticed Kennedy's attention was back on his surroundings he grinned at him and signed with one hand: 'Road. W I T C H A M.' It was a long word and it took him a moment to get the T and M right but then he laughed and poked his nose. "Bit on the nose." He'd been amused when they'd started that stretch of road and he'd seen the name but Kennedy had been deep into his drawing so he hadn't wanted to poke him and break his stride. He wondered if this was going to be like Salem: witches everywhere, hard core tourism based on the gnarly history. No judgment there, he'd really enjoyed their trip there and the locals had been really cool but it was a little morbid.
Kennedy laughed a little and nodded, thinking of Salem himself. He’d liked it there, it had a lot of character, but some of the tourist trap places were too kitschy for his taste. Theme parks built on tragedy were always kind of ghoulish. Morbid was their show’s vibe, but in a classy way -- Moth seemed to love a dose of rich history with his supernatural tales, and he was fantastic at weaving the two together. Since Moth was driving and couldn’t look at him much and Kennedy didn’t know how loud the music currently was, he went back to looking at the town through the car window. It seemed pretty nice, just a little coastal town with a small Main Street and lots of streetlights. By the time they’d pulled into the inn’s parking lot, he was eager to get out -- the part of him that loved being in a new place wanted to go exploring, but Kennedy wanted a shower even more.
Moth lowered the volume of the music before he stopped the engine since he had no idea how much time would pass before they drove again and he didn't want to give himself a heart attack. It felt good to get out and stretch his legs and he peered up at the hotel with a healthy dose of admiration. New England was always the part of the States that most reminded him of Western Europe but with its own unique flair, Juniper was beautiful and he was already wondering how many stories came with it. It was an inn after all, in an old building in a town that boasted a rich history. There was bound to be something! The building itself looked really quaint, more like a large home than a business and there weren't a lot of cars there - which tracked with how there weren't that many rooms to start with. He locked the car and headed inside with Kennedy, talked briefly with the clerk - a quirky little white girl who seemed more interested in her book than in talking to them - and then headed to the room. "Oh yeah, we don't have a private bathroom," he grumbled when he walked in and had a look around, then turned around to sign it to Kennedy. Man he couldn't wait to get to their more permanent location where they'd have their own rooms and bathrooms.
Since he didn’t have to worry about handling the girl at the front desk, Kennedy just looked around the lobby -- which was more like a large foyer -- until Moth got his attention to go upstairs. The room was smallish but cozy, and Kennedy had just tossed his backpack down on one of the beds to claim it when Moth signed about the bathrooms. It wasn’t until then that he realized there wasn’t another door in their room, not even to a closet. There was a wardrobe and dresser instead. He frowned vaguely, not liking the idea of sharing a bathroom with other people. There had better be good locks on the door, because he couldn’t fucking hear anyone trying to walk in on him. Where is it? he signed back to Moth, looking a bit put out. It wasn’t his fault, of course, Roland had booked the room, and Kennedy was sure that was something they’d told him and he just hadn’t passed the information along or tried to find them something else. At least it was only for a night. His leisurely indulgent shower would have to wait until they were settled in the Airbnb.
"Uhm," Moth murmured and looked at the little information pamphlet he'd gotten downstairs before handing it to Kennedy. "Just down the hall," he said but didn't bother signing it since Kennedy would see it for himself. "I need to piss," he added then with the appropriate signage and a shower could wait but his bladder could not. "Don't go anywhere." He shot Kennedy a small somewhat dismayed smile of his own before heading out, relieved he wasn't the type to usually get up in the middle of the night in need of a bathroom. It did suck not being able to stumble in there half naked in the morning though. He'd slept in worse places for sure though, the room itself was nice.
Kennedy nodded and waved him off as he went to plop down on the edge of the bed he’d claimed, his eyes on the pamphlet as Moth left the room. It was nice, homey in a way that at least wasn’t cringey and like an old grandma’s house, like a lot of bed and breakfast inns seemed to be. He tossed the glossy paper aside and let his palms stroke over the quilt underneath him, his gaze roaming around the room. Maybe he could make a sign to stick on the bathroom door when he needed it -- DON’T OPEN, DEAF INSIDE. The thought made him laugh a little, at least. There would have to be locks on the bathroom door, right? He couldn’t wear his hearing aids in the shower, but when he was taking a shit ... Kennedy flopped backward with a sigh, glad that the bed was comfortable at least. If there were ghosts in this place that came out at night, Moth was going to have to handle them on his own, Kennedy felt like he could sleep through a bomb going off. He gazed at the ceiling and daydreamed a bit while he waited for the light flickering that meant his often-roommate was back.
Moth was well ahead of him, putting the don't disturb sign on the door as he left. He didn't think anyone would be banging on doors at this hour but weirder things for sure had happened and would continue happening. He'd gotten in the habit of flicking the lights when he entered a room, even when Kennedy wasn't in there, kind of like signaling even if there was no car. It was a good habit to have when spending this much time with a deaf guy and he wasn't about to try to break it. It had earned him some weird looks with a one night stand but the reason why was sweet and that usually just meant he scored some bonus points if he did that with strangers. "Bathroom's nice," he said with a sign and a shrug when he got Kennedy's attention, then kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the vacant bed, bouncing on it a bit to test it. It was comfy, thankfully not too old or anything.
He sat up as Moth walked back in, nodding a little in acknowledgement. The bed bouncing made him smirk a little. It was briefly tempting to go over there and bounce with him, but he knew that was a dumb idea. Kennedy stood up and stretched a bit with a grunt, then looked at Moth again with a cocked brow. “Did the door have a lock? I need a shower,” he said and signed. If it didn’t, he might just wait until they got to the place they were really staying, but after a long day of traveling, Kennedy really wanted hot water and alone time. He loved hanging out with Moth, but they’d both learned to grab time to themselves when they needed it.
"Yeah," Moth replied and then told him briefly about the layout of it so he knew what he was getting into. "Take your key, I'm gonna head out grab some snacks. You want something?" He waved the voucher they got with their room from the local diner, it had been hours since they last ate and he wanted to have some water on hand in the room too. He also wanted to ask the clerk some questions about the hotel just in case there were any fun historical facts or stories about it, they only had one night and it might not even make it into the podcast but in his experience, the weirdest little tidbits could be used and sometime the things they'd almost cut turned out to be the most popular.
Kennedy grabbed the voucher to see what kind of place it sounded like, then rattled off a couple of options for Moth to see if they had. He was hungry, but he could wait a while before he was starving. Long enough to indulge in a shower and let Moth do some of the poking around he was so good at. Thanks, be safe, he signed, then reached for the room key to tuck it into his pocket. Kennedy made sure he had his phone on him, tipped Moth a salute-wave, and headed for the door. He hoped nobody else on this floor or in their block of rooms needed the bathroom, because he was going to be in there for a while.
Moth took his time because he knew Kennedy liked taking his time and they could use that time apart. He talked to the clerk for a bit, then drove around town a little just to take in the vibe of it, steering clear of the obviously gated community to not become some sad statistic. He wouldn't be going in there without an invitation and even then... Rich folks tended to be crazier than the rest. The marina was fucking gorgeous and a lot of the houses had that New England charm that made for great photographs to go along with the stories. He finally found Moxies and ordered food for them after stopping by a small convenience store to buy water and snacks. He wasn't going back to the hotel empty handed, that was for sure.
The water pressure wasn’t the best, but there was plenty of heat to it, and it was all in a pretty cool old clawfoot tub. Kennedy appreciated his small stature as he settled into it under the hot spray to close his eyes and daydream for a while. Sometimes he could drift far enough to forget he had a body at all, everything was just warm darkness and silence and the sensation of static against his skin. Of course the hard tub under him always factored in eventually, but it was a nice vibe for a while. Before he got to that point of discomfort, Kennedy let his mind drift into sexier dimensions and he rubbed one out. He was impressed when the hot water lasted into the actual washing up phase. Nobody disturbed him that he was aware of, and he only felt mildly guilty as he slunk out of the bathroom and back down the hall, his hair wet and extra curly, a towel around his waist and his clothes balled up in his hand. He wasn’t surprised to beat Moth back, but Kennedy knew he probably wouldn’t have to wait long. He changed into boxers and a white t-shirt and flopped onto the bed he’d claimed to lounge with his sketchpad.
He was right that he didn't need to wait long. Moth could spend hours by himself just roaming, but he'd promised to bring food and he'd already been on the road for so long, settling in for the night actually sounded pretty tempting. When he entered the room, Kennedy looked so damn comfy that it was hard to believe he'd been alone in a haunted hotel for a while. Moth smiled at him as he flicked the lights for his attention, then held up the bag of food. Kennedy absolutely was not his type but there were times - like this one - where it was weirdly tempting to crawl into bed with him and just sprawl against him, breathe him in and feel the warmth of his body. Maybe that just meant Moth was lonely but he didn't really feel lonely. Just weirdly tempted. He didn't try to overanalyze it, setting the food down and kicking his shoes off as he thought of the little snippets of stories he'd already gotten from his short outing. "No ghosts?" he asked, wiggling his fingers and miming an 'ooh' sound.
Kennedy sat up pretty quickly as Moth entered the room again, an approving grin crossing his face at the sight of the food bag. He set his art stuff aside and scooted to the edge of the bed to stand up. He huffed through his nose and shook his head at Moth’s question. “No ghosts,” he said and signed. “At least not when my eyes were open.” It was a bit of a running joke between them, that he could be totally oblivious to poltergeist activity when his back was turned. But nothing had flown across the room, there had been no creepy writing on the steamy bathroom mirror, nothing in their room had been out of place when he’d gotten back. So far this place was quiet. Kennedy dug into the food bag to find his meal, then went to plop back on the edge of the bed. “Find anything fun while you were out?” he asked his partner, eyes on Moth.
"This place," Moth said and pointed at the floor. "Haunted. Every place in this town? Haunted. The road we drove in on? Haunted." He tittered and shrugged, getting his own food out and perching on the edge of his bed. It was a small room and their beds were pretty close together so he purposefully sat farther to the side so they wouldn't bump knees while eating. "The guy at the grocery store said we shouldn't stay more than a few days, it's not safe. I feel like I'm in a cliche horror movie." He could only sign parts of that but Kennedy looked like he was keeping up just fine, his intense blue eyes focused on Moth's lips in a way that would have him flustered if it was anyone else. He was used to it with Kennedy, it was his way of listening.
Even though they spent a lot of time driving, it was much easier to hold a conversation when they were facing one another, and Kennedy appreciated that Moth always seemed to keep that in mind. He’d never made him feel bad or annoying for needing extra consideration, like a lot of people did. He was often treated like he just kept his deafness ‘on’ for funsies to make them repeat themselves or something. Even when he had his hearing aids on, a good bit of what came through was garbled if there was a lot of background noise or someone was a mumbler by nature. But Moth made sure he understood, patiently repeated himself when necessary, and he was learning ASL so they could communicate even better. It meant the world to Kennedy, more than he knew how to express well. He laughed a little at the horror movie line, nodding as he plucked out a few fries to munch on. “Sounds like our kind of place,” he said when his hands and mouth were free again, smirking. “Should make Roland happy when they get here.”
Moth's smile was a bit awkward and his lips tight since his mouth was full but he nodded and his eyes crinkled a little because yeah, that was exactly what they wanted - as long as there were some good stories to go with it. They didn't want just some 'ooh spooky shit happens here' nonsense, they could find that just about anywhere, but hopefully they could figure out what led to those stories and why they stayed so strong in people's minds. "Can't wait to see it all in daylight," he said and the art market was going to be a nice start. They could hopefully strike up casual conversation with some locals, artists could be a chatty bunch and it was a pretty unique opportunity to approach people in the street. There was always that underlying fear that the place they were in was full of bigoted assholes but that pretty much went for everywhere so it was a fear that was kind of consistent so he was used to it - or as used to it as a man could get.
Kennedy had all the faith in the world that Moth could find at least one good story here. He was good at digging in the right place to find the heart of a thing. Even boring towns with superficial spookiness had at least one good story in them, he believed ... but the best places had evidence for their legends, fun tangled histories with colorful characters, intriguing mysteries that people could sink their teeth into. Kennedy hoped this was one of those places. He liked watching Moth light up with inspiration when they found something cool. Me too, Kennedy signed, chewing another bite. He was looking forward to the art thing, always excited to see people’s local work ... sometimes it kicked him out of an artistic rut. Plus it would be a fantastic networking opportunity. “I’m half expecting ... Mothman style trinkets,” he said with a little snort. “Lots of paintings and little statues of local monsters? We’ll see.”
"I wonder if they have local cryptids," Moth speculated and now he really wished this room had a bathroom because his burger was juicy as hell. Thankfully there were a lot of napkins and he wiped his mouth as he spoke. He'd never heard of this town before but maybe they leaned into the West Virginia town name and hoped people couldn't tell the difference. He wouldn't put it past them and they'd probably get away with it about eighty percent of the time. "We're in the wrong room," he said and signed, then took a sip of his drink. "Seven is haunted. This one? Boring." He twirled his finger in the air and smirked, thinking maybe it would piss off some ghost enough to let itself be known but when had that tactic ever worked? They'd seen some weird shit along the way but most of it could be explained with science so far.
He’d done some reading on their favorite message boards, and while this Point Pleasant wasn’t known for any single cryptid, there were definitely rumors of non-animal creatures in this area. Kennedy hadn’t seen evidence yet that they based their tourism on that kind of shit, but who knew what they would find when they dug in. He was eager to find out. Kennedy caught on to the joke and echoed Moth. “Oh yeah, so boring,” he said louder than necessary, glancing around the room with a smirk. They’d tried baiting ghosts plenty of time before, it was more like a joke now than a real tactic. It was just funny to think about them being eavesdropped on by ghosts. “Maybe our new place will be haunted too,” Kennedy suggested, his fingers moving with his mouth. “How many bedrooms was it?” It was good to have real privacy, but part of him did enjoy it a little too much when he and Moth were sharing a bedroom.
"Four," Moth replied and that was because Roland and Nessie were joining them and they all liked to have a separate room for working even if they tended to all end up in the living room doing their thing. Moth was sure it wouldn't be any different this time around, Roland usually made sure the places they rented were suitable for their needs. He needed to read the e-mail Roland had forwarded to him a few days ago again, just to double check all the details. "It's big, I think. Lots of bathrooms." Which was going to be a godsend after tonight, he was already itching to go wash his hands as soon as he was done eating and having to go down the hall for that was kind of a pain in the ass.
Kennedy’s mild disappointment was easily brushed aside. He was still going to be seeing Moth all the time, they would have a lot of work to do. They didn’t need to live on top of each other at the same time, and this little crush was entirely unprofessional. Not that he’d ever really claimed to be such. He was just an artist who liked to tinker around with weird equipment and had an interest in the paranormal. Just some guy. Kennedy made the sign for ‘good’ and focused on eating again to finish it up. He’d been hungrier than he thought, and the food was greasy and filling and perfect. He knew he was going to sleep well tonight, ghosts or no ghosts. Why was traveling in a car all day so tiring? Kennedy sucked the bits of ketchup from his fingers once he was done, then gathered all their trash to stuff it into the wastebasket.
If Kennedy's disappointment showed, it escaped Moth's attention. He'd never found Kennedy's face to be very easy to read unless his emotions were heightened in some way. It was easy to see when he was pissed off or having a laugh, but those in between stages were a little foggy to him. It didn't bother him, he was of the opinion that people's moods were their own and not his problem unless they made them his problem. He was not responsible for other people, he was only responsible for himself and his own behavior. It had taken a lot of self schooling to get to that point, there was so much generational trauma in his family, so many passive aggressive moments he hadn't known how to navigate as a kid but he was a grown man now, he wasn't playing that game anymore. Kennedy said 'good', it was good. Moth was kind of looking forward to sprawling out in a hopefully comfortable bed and rubbing one out by himself, it had been a while since he'd had the privacy to do that. He made a hand washing sign at Kennedy before leaving the room, taking some time to clean up again enough to feel ready for bed, glad he didn't run into any of the other guests out there. It was tempting to use the bathroom for more than just clean-up but... He'd have a room to himself tomorrow, he could wait.
Seeing as how he'd satisfied that same itch earlier in the shower, and now that he had a full belly, Kennedy was ready to wind down completely for the night. He stripped his shirt off and got into bed, propped up a bit on those thick hotel pillows so he could play around on his phone until he got really sleepy. Occasionally he wondered if Moth took advantage of the sense of privacy once Kennedy was unconscious -- he could watch porn on full volume and loudly beat his meat all he wanted and Kennedy would never know. He didn't mind the idea of it in the slightest, either. It probably wasn't cool to think so much about a work associate's self-love life, but he couldn't seem to help it. Kennedy was never going to bring it up or ask, just indulge in little fantasies about waking up and catching Moth by accident ... and then joining him. It was dumb and probably totally unrealistic, but it felt nice to think about sometimes. He wasn't dwelling on it at the moment though, just browsing Reddit and idly stretching his legs and feet. Kennedy was glad they'd finally arrived and weren't driving another hundred miles the next day.
Moth returned after a bit, feeling a little cleaner and fresher, his breath minty and fresh and even if he hadn't had a shower yet, he'd switched out his underwear for comfort. It had made him think of the post-apocalyptic movies and shows that were so popular and how he probably wouldn't survive very long because of the discomfort of being filthy all the time even if there weren't zombies and mutants to worry about. He felt nice today though, driving hadn't been dirty work or anything. When he came back to the room he didn't flick the light right away. Kennedy looked like the image of comfort, all cozy and snug and for a few seconds he didn't want to interrupt him or that moment. It only took those few seconds before he realized it was probably invasive and borderline voyeuristic. Not everyone liked to be watched, which was a pity because Moth liked watching people. He flicked the lights and then closed the door behind him and locked it, heading for what was obviously going to be his bed for the night. He wasn't picky, he could sleep on the floor if he had to and often had so the choice of beds was usually up to Kennedy. He kind of wished they were already at their final destination so he could unpack and get everything settled already but they'd need to be out by eleven so that wasn't in the cards for them.
Sometimes Kennedy could feel when someone entered a room, there was a change in the air pressure as a door opened or the vibration of footsteps through the floor, but that was harder in unfamiliar environments, which they were often inhabiting. Plus he was distracted, so he was unaware of his temporary audience. The light flicker made him look up though, and he gave Moth a little smile. He looked so content ... though he always kind of did, the man was the very definition of easygoing. A truly chill person. Kennedy admired it, if he was being honest. He had a hot temper himself, and more than once after a blowup he'd wished he'd approached things with a more Moth-like attitude. Kennedy propped his phone up on his raised leg to free his hands up. "You going to sleep?” he asked and signed.
"Gonna read," Moth replied and plugged his phone in for the night, setting it aside on the nightstand. He had his own little reading lamp that only really lit up the book because he was very used to sharing a room with someone - usually Kennedy - and it was very comfortable to read until he got drowsy - especially if Kennedy fell asleep first, there was something very soothing about listening to someone else's sleepy breathing and occasional soft snoring. He tugged his t-shirt off, the room was far warmer than he'd been expecting, and started making himself comfortable. "Set an alarm?" he asked though he was pretty sure they'd be up way before they actually needed to be.
The light never bothered Kennedy -- he could usually fall asleep even if all the lamps were on and the TV was going -- but he thought Moth’s reading light was kind of cute. He was just full of sweet considerations that Kennedy didn’t strictly need, but he appreciated anyway. He didn’t mean to stare as the other man stripped his shirt off, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Moth shirtless by far, but Kennedy’s eyes lingered anyway. Kennedy was attracted to all kinds of people with all kinds of bodies, and he tried not to be creepy about it even though he had a built-in excuse to look at people more than the average person ... but Moth was definitely a well-made man. It took him a second to catch up to the question and he waved an ambivalent hand. “Eight or nine?” he suggested. One of them would probably be awake before then, but it would give them some time to chill before they had to get out of Juniper and go explore the art festival.
Moth set the timer and scratched at his chest hair as he stretched out comfortably, giving Kennedy a little wave. They had a lot of things planned for the next few days and he was looking forward to most of them. The local museum, the library, the infamous tunnel being just a few of many. They'd done the detective work they could without visiting the town and the library would probably be a great place to start - after the weekend at least. Researching wasn't strictly Moth's job but he enjoyed it when Roland sent him on random missions and after working at the podcast for a while it was hard not to get sucked into it all. Tomorrow though, they were just going to relax. Okay, maybe do a little scouting at the art festival but mostly relax. "You going to sleep?" he asked with just simple signs for 'you sleep' and a questioning expression.
Kennedy enjoyed the research part of it too, but he wasn’t nearly as good at it as Roland and Moth, so he stuck with his electronics and his art for the most part. He loved reading the scripts though and often fell down the rabbit holes they opened up for him. Kennedy pursed his lips thoughtfully at the question, trying to judge how tired he was. The weariness was there, but also that ‘hard to settle down’ feeling that came with a new place and not a lot of physical activity during the day. He shrugged, wiggled his phone a bit, and signed that Moth could turn out the lights anytime. “I’ll be asleep soon,” Kennedy told him. He would just keep fiddling around until he got sleepy enough to pass out.
Moth signed off on 'good night' and turned off the lights, save for his small one. He liked to read until he was too drowsy to think, it helped with sleeping in new places and not having to lie there in the dark, wondering what each and every little sound could be. At least he couldn't keep asking Kennedy if he'd heard something, not that he hadn't done that in the early days and then been amused at himself for just forgetting Kennedy couldn't hear shit. It was in part lonely, he had to admit, but also a good thing because then they didn't feed into each other's paranoia. This particular house had plenty of sounds, it was old and creaky and he could hear someone walk outside their door just moments after the lights were out. It might have freaked him out but they were in a hotel that was fully booked, they were surrounded by the living.