tampered | Log; Complete

When; Feb. 2 (night)
Rating; PG-13 (language and bloods)
Characters; Boy Blue

playstheblues, the Corinthian

bitingnightmare
Summary; The bluebird gets stood up by a nightmare who's down for the count.
Log;

That was the Corinthian's mistake. He'd managed to stumble back to the studio, where he wouldn't be found by anyone save for a single individual, but that golden boy had a gig tonight. He was sure that Blue was none the wiser about his injuries, and he was sure he could fix it before Lux's opening. The nightmare had been dead wrong. Not long after he'd promised to meet Blue at the piano bar he'd taken to lying down on the (immaculately clean) floor. It wasn't a matter of strength, Cori had a lot of that, Cori had a lot of will, but his corporeal form was rebelling against him. The burn to his side, the patch of glass covering his ribs, had reached his liver, damaging it beyond medical repair. He couldn't die from it, hardly, but he couldn't function with it either.

The Corinthian cursed Tony Foster's name, not for the powershot or the patches of glass on his hand and face, or even for the reaction to October. He cursed his name for delaying his date with Blue, then closed his eyes.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Proud? Did he really say the word proud? In all honesty and seriousness? Cori leaned forward to place a kiss to Blue's forehead, silently thankful for his words. It meant a lot to him, even if he was normally caustic, a bit of a jerk, and more often than not short on gratitude. He was never eloquent with words.

"You missed chords," the nightmare asked, feigning mild disbelief as if that was the worst part of it all. He cut his humor short and tightened his hold on the trumpeter. "I promise you too. I'll tell you."

He did, and he meant it. He knew that it had been hard, and he knew that Cori had faced it instead of running, and that was something to be proud of.

"I did! And it was awful! I've never missed the chord change in Jazz Nights in my entire life!" He made a mock sad face. "You owe me. I don't know what. But you owe me."

"When you think of something, let me know. And quit that forlorn shit."

The Corinthian was joking, but secretly he joked because it always seemed to work on everyone, mortals, fables, and nightmares alike. He hooked his arm around Blue's neck and tipped his chin up for a kiss.

He kissed Cori back and then turned off the water, getting out of the shower and drying himself off. "I have a pair of boxers that'll fit you," don't ask, they were Hannibal's, but clean and new, "and you'll sleep with me."

No Fly in the room tonight. He was in the sink for the count.

"Okay," he nodded, not bothering to ask about the origins of those boxers. Considering his own knowledge of Mr. Lecter, he could have had a disgruntled fit or a meltdown of fanaticism.

Cori stepped out of the shower to dry off, finding the cold uncomfortable for once. His clothes could either be laundered (the jeans were salvageable) or tossed (the shirt was definitely not), but that could wait till morning. Out of a whim and leaned inward again to kiss Blue. His thanks.

Blue kissed him back, then slipped his own boxers on, slipped out and grabbed the pair from their package and came to hand them to Cori. He pressed another kiss on the nightmare and led him back to his narrow bed.

"Fly's out tonight. I can sleep with you up there, or if you want more space, I can sleep down in Fly's bed...."

He hoped that Cori wouldn't need space.

He pulled them on without question and the fit was comfortable. Unworn boxers left no trace of Lecter on them (unfortunately). After another kiss he followed Blue back to the bedroom.

"I'm lucky he didn't hit the bar," said the nightmare with a gesture to the b flat in good humor, attempting to lift the mood. Then he shook his head at that suggestion. "I don't need more space, Almond Joy," Cori smiled.

Blue smirked, "You are, I would have been displeased."

He lifted himself up into his bed and pulled Cori along with him, lying down in the nightmare's arms. "Good," he said with a smile. "I like knowing that you're here with me."

"And then you'd get angry, and nobody likes you when you're angry," he mirrored the smirk as he climbed up onto the bed. Who said comics were just for sixteen year olds? Not that Cori was an avid reader... he still preferred Barker. His arm fell around Boy Blue again, the covers pulled to his chin.

"I like that too," said the nightmare, quietly now. The younger man's words reminded him again as to why he was seriously considering a new place. Cori held him tightly for a moment, face hidden behind Blue's blond hair. His breathing was slow and deep, carefully controlled.

"Blue Angry. Blue Smash." Blue said in a fake, cheap imitation, then curled up close. He heard Cori's breath even out, and he felt sleep tug on him like an old friend. He closed his eyes and curled up tightly around the other man's body.

"Goodnight, love."

He evened out his breath to calm himself, to ease the tension from his muscles that he knew Blue could feel with or without words. He wished he could have done it differently to not even put the golden boy in that situation. The Corinthian was grateful for the fable's fearless ability to cut him when it was needed, but he felt he'd let Blue down by not preventing bloodshed in the first place.

Blue was the one who wanted to put violence and war behind him. His teetheyes opened again. Love.

Cori pressed his lips to his soft damp hair. "Goodnight, Blue."

Log; Complete

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