badbobbybarnes | Bedside Confessions (RP for captain

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Bedside Confessions (RP for captain_breacan) [Complete]

Eothian came by every morning, just like he promised. They talked about the weather, about sculpting and music, about clubs, about photography. They didn't talk about Breacan. They didn't talk about Eothian's crush or how Bobby was starting to develop feelings back for him.

Eothian had left for the morning and Bobby was dozing, petting Bette as he slept. The nurse was making herself some lunch when she heard the elevator.

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He turns up at Bobby’s place half drunk. He hasn’t showered, shaved or done anything to clean himself up. He reeks of liquor and cigarette smell. Simon answers his knock at the door and can’t help but stare at the state of a man he knows as usually dedicated to the upkeep of his appearance. Simon doesn’t say anything, he know better. The best he will get with questions is a icy wall of silence, he allows the captain in.

Breacan stands at the foot of the bed where Bobby is. He doesn’t care if the other man is awake or sleep. He says nothing, just waits for Bobby to speak to him first.

Edited 2008-10-22 03:24 (UTC)

The smell of alcohol woke him. Or, rather, it woke that part of him that craved it. He opened his eyes and looked at Breacan. Once he was awake, Bette thought it was safe to go and see Breacan, sitting in front of him and looking up with her deep blue eyes.

"Breacan?" Bobby's confusion at the situation was evident in his tired voice.

Breacan held the palm of his hand out to allow Bette to take the scent it was him. She sniffed, gave the hand a slight nip with her teeth, almost as if she was disapproving of the other smells. Bette settled beside Bobby to watch the two men.

"Yes, Mister Barnes."

When Bette was laying down again, Bobby lifted the bed and got a better look at Breacan. "Jesus. Did ya drink the bar outta business? Sit down."

He moved to the chair beside the bed and took a seat as request by Bobby. The closer he got, the stronger the smell. He didn't say anything to Bobby's question, just raised an eyebrow.

He let the question go and looked at him. Then he glanced at where Simon was hovering. He narrowed his eyes at the other man and didn't look away. Simon cleared his throat, then announced that he needed to go report for his shift. The nurse nodded as Bobby looked back at Breacan.

Once Simon was gone, Bobby visibly relaxed and gave Breacan a faint smile. "What's wrong?"

Breacan watched the unspoken exchange between Bobby and Simon, he frowned slightly. The frown disappeared when he refocused his fuzzy mind back to the question Bobby was asking.

"Why do you believe something is wrong?"

"Cause ya smell like a brewhouse and ya didn't bring me any." He shook his head slightly at Breacan.

"Well, if nothing's wrong, then how are ya?"

"I prefer to keep it to myself."

Breacan looked intently at Bobby for what seemed like a long time. He prepared a set of replies in his mind and pushed them aside for honesty and facts.

"Drunk."

Bobby looked at Breacan with a completely straight face. "Really? I wouldn'ta guessed that one at all."

"What gave it away?"

When he spoke his voice was low, soft, with a slight slur. He distracted himself by searching his jacket pocket to pull out a lighter and packet of cigarettes.

"Mind if I smoke?" He indicated to the packet, as he pointed there was a slight tremor in his usually steady hands.

Bobby didn't feel the need to answer the first question. "Go ahead. Just gotta blow the smoke this way."

He watched Breacan with something that was a mix of a smile and a frown. Something was clearly wrong but he obviously didn't want to talk about it. So Bobby wasn't going to push. He'd promised.

Breacan lit up the cigarette. He emptied the packet of the last three remaining cigarettes and stashed them into his jacket pocket. The empty packet became an ashtray as he flicked in the ash between draws.

He lowered his head and blew out the smoke, downward, and away from Bobby. He almost seemed to be willing himself to calmness. When he spoke again he didn't look up.

"Why did you send Doctor McMullen away, just now?"

With Breacan's head down, he didn't see Bobby's scowl at being cheated out of the second hand smoke.

"Cause he doesn't need to be here. Because if he's here, he'll try and kick ya out. Because he annoys me." He rubbed his eyes. "Because I don't trust him."

"Doctor McMullen, will not have me removed."

He said it with certainty. Almost as if he and Simon had discussed that very thing. Breacan was about to take another drag on the cigarette but paused at Bobby's last words. He looked up this time, confusion showing clear in his eyes.

"You do not? How can you not trust a man you…” His voice faded off while he tried to find a of describing Bobby’s relationship with Simon, “ …care deeply for?” It was the only way he knew how to say it.

Bobby sighed. "Breacan, that man cheated on me when we were together. I kicked him out. Since then, I moved on."

He swallowed and rubbed his eyes, gently rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just because I got drunk and fucked him don't mean I changed my mind 'bout him. Just cause he's taking care of me don't mean I love him."

“Have you moved on?” Breacan couldn’t help the question. There was something akin to disbelief in his eyes as he looked at Bobby. “You allow him to take care of you, now. You went to him willingly even drunk. He is still present here, when you can find another to take care of you. Then there is myself.”

He took a drag from the cigarette and looked down,

“I do not know, what to make of my resemblance to him.”

Bobby sighed softly and rubbed his forehead. Why did Breacan have to be so damn dense sometimes. He pulled his notebook from under the edge of the bed and started drawing as he spoke.

"Anyone ever used ya, Breacan? Ya know, to get something they needed? I needed to get laid that night. I needed to get out of the hospital. I need someone who will give me what I need. It ain't without consequences."

His pencil paused a moment, then he looked at Breacan. "Ya were, initially, a physical attraction. But it didn't stay that way. If it had, I'd've fucked ya and been done. Ya'd have never heard from me again."

Breacan remained silent, not bothering to answer Bobby about his question of using. He listened to Bobby talk and watching him as he drew. He shifted in the chair, and took another drag on the cigarette he held between his fingers. He flick ash from the cigarette into the empty packet he held tightly in his hand.

He blew the smoke away from Bobby again and looked back at him.

“What am I to you now?”

He suppressed his growl at Breacan's continued insistence about the cigarette smoke and shook his head. "I dunno. It clearly ain't 'bout the sex, cause I ain't getting any. Don't know that it's 'bout friendship, cause that sure ain't how we treat each other."

He went back to his sketch a moment, then looked back at him. "I dunno what it's 'bout."

"What do you want us to be about?"

He looked down at the cigarette burning away; the ash was flicked into the cigarette pack as he looked back up at Bobby. The expression in his eyes was one of emotional tiredness of someone who almost appeared defeated by some kind of struggle, internal or external; it was hard to tell which.

"What I want don't matter, Breacan. Ya made that plenty clear. Maybe ya ought tell me what ya want, instead. Not what ya think I wanna hear, but what ya want."

Edited 2008-10-25 20:23 (UTC)

He looked down, taking a last drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out. The smoke was blown in a different direction to Bobby. He didn’t look back up once he stubbed out the cigarette, he crushed the packet and held it tightly in his hands. When he did look back up there was no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. There was a blankness in his eyes.

“There is nothing to say.”

With a growl, Bobby threw the sketch pad. "Get out. Why the fuck'd ya even come here? Why the fuck do ya keep coming around? If ya don't want anything, why do ya keep coming 'round?"

Bobby rolled away from him, giving Breacan his full back. He was done. It didn't matter what Breacan said, he wasn't doing it any more. Only person who ended up getting hurt was him.

"It is expected I be here. It is what you wish."

Breacan stood up away from the chair. He looked at Bobby, not moving to him, or attempting to reach out and touch him. His voice was low, filled with the slur of a man who had been drinking.

"No matter what I do for you, it always will be wrong and never enough."

He turned away and walked out of the room. He wouldn't stay, not this time. On the way out he spoke briefly to the nurse to check on Bobby's health progress and left the apartment.

The sea captain didn't look back and didn't return.

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Bedside Confessions (RP for captain_breacan) [Complete]

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