Lincoln had always been a little funny, but today he was definitely stranger than normal. This lady body had changed the way his friend was working, and acting, and Nic was starting to worry that maybe Linc would be stuck this way forever. And if he was, that would change things between them.
"Now that you have a history for yourself," he said, dismissing any need to respond to how hot or not Lincoln was, "are you feeling any better?"
--- Miraculously yes, Lincoln was feeling better. Now he had a character, something to seperate himself in his head. If he felt a certain way it'd be 'Layla'. If he felt like himself it'd be Lincoln... he sighed and nodded finally. "Yeah. But if I'm still like this in five months will you marry me?"
--- Well that came out of nowhere. Choking on the bite he had in his mouth, Nic sucked in a breath and grabbed the closest liquid- the bottle of scotch beside the couch- and drank it. Once he could breathe again, and speak, he spat out a heartfelt "No!"
--- At Nic's reaction Lincoln had to stop the grin from spreading over his face, until he finally got his answer and he laughed, enjoying the disgusted look on his friend's face. "Good. So my looks aren't totally controlling you. I'll keep that in mind." He beckoned for the drink. "I think I need that more than you, yes?"
--- With a roll of his eyes, Nic passed the bottle over, and scowled as he took a savage bite of the pancake at the top of the stack. "No matter how beautiful you might look, you are still you," he said through his food. "And you are awful. I would rather marry Hope and her perfect boyfriend at the same time and have to listen to their sex life every evening of my life than have to marry you. You drink all my scotch."
--- Grabbing the pancake after the top one, which Nic so carelessly bit into, Lincoln practically cradled his and took his time in nibbling the delicious food Nic had made. It really was. Despite Nic ruining the moment of food ecstacy with stupid moaning about scotch and beauty, marriage and all the other shit, Lincoln settled back and ignored him. Food. Alcohol. Nothing better. "Keep telling yourself that, baby."
--- "Don't call me baby," Nic scolded. "I will put photographs of you on the internet, I will." Of course, he wouldn't. But it was worth making the empty threat besides.
Keeping quiet for a few moments while he ate, Nic focused on keeping his eyes forward, not looking at his friend, not noticing anything about him and only chewing and swallowing food. But after a while that became tedious and the thought of 'I should've made bacon' kept coming to mind, so Nic set the plate onto the coffee table and turned to look at Linc, really look at him. The more he resisted it the more tempting it would be, so maybe it would be better to just get it done with now.