[ The passenger seat is cold and damp and smells a little bit like goat. As Jim arrives, House is in the business of lighting himself a cigarette. He shakes out the match and glances over at his passenger. ]
Nah, I'm saving them for a rainy day. I like having something to sniff when I'm bored.
[ He sticks the cigarette between his teeth, guns the engine and pulls out. The tracks through the forest are not made for wheels and the golf cart isn't made for cross-country driving over anything more challenging than a well manicured green; between that and the frozen, uneven ground of the forest, there's a lot of turbulence. Jim might want to hold on to something.
As they go along through the underbrush, House fishes in the pocket of his coat and produces a small bottle, which he offers over to Hopper without taking his eyes off the "road". ]
[The cold damp is about what he's been sleeping on, lately. The vial, however, gets a wary glance. ]
Is that opium? [Once again, Jim Hopper simply feels like a high school Don't Do Drugs poster. Are you being pressured by friends to take drugs? Yes. Wonderful distraction from the thought of House sniffing his panties, to which he is horrifically not revolted by.]
[ House keeps the vial held out, driving one handed, teeth still gritted around his smoke. It's all a bit Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, he can't exactly blame Hopper for being hesitant.
They bump and bounce down the trail. House doesn't seem particularly interested in going slowly in the name of safety, either. ]
Only 10%, great. [He's taking it, obviously, and downing it one go. The driving is fine; if anything it is fairly nostalgic of driving with Joyce, hunting down Russian agents. Or, it could be the three shots making him sentimental.
In any case, one hand is gripping the side beam. ] Thanks, appreciate it. If I start slurring my words, at least make sure you throw me into a bed.
Just don't do anything dangerous, like try to drive.
[ Says the man who has already dosed himself before leaving the warmth of his own cabin. Not that he was completely sober at that point. His own hangover is a problem he's pushing ahead of him, like a Sisyphean boulder.
It's not long before they hit the main track between the farmlands and the town. House swings them around, careless of Hopper's fragile state. He smokes as he drives, enjoying the familiarity of it, then companionably offers the cigarette to Jim as well. ]
Did you see Stephen's magic tricks last night? You think he does bar mitzvahs?
[The former gets the wryest look he muster. Then he's simply pretending he is not clinging on for dear life, like he's totally fine and not about hurl if he lurches any harder.
Great to be a white guy from the 80's, wonderful -] Oh, you should ask him. I'm sure he'll love that. [Jim would absolutely love that, privately. Alone.] I think he was just showing off. He likes to show off.
Oh, if it's so you win the pool then sure. I'll get right on it.
[His sexuality crisis is going GREAT thanks for asking!] Well, more than I am. Already. [ahem. anyway. ] Can you slow down on the bumps, please. Think of your cart, House.
[ He's not slowing down. In fact, he makes a point of swerving around a farmer heading out to the fields in the other direction, giving her a merry wave as they go past. ]
John wants a double date. I think we should go bowling.
Monster truck rallies. I've missed The Destroyer verses Raminator and Monster Jam. Do you know how much I paid for those tickets?
[ He's being completely honest and also mostly griping to himself at this point. They're coming up on the town, the walls visible through the trees as they rattle and bounce down the track. House takes one last drag on his cigarette, then pitches the butt into the trees. Littering, the very least of his crimes.
This time House elects not to use his parking space (the disabled parking bay is carefully outlined in chalk beside the gate, along with a small sign identifying it as for Doctor House's use only), but drives on through. The guards on the gate are surprised, but they recognise the men in the cart, and they get waved into the town. House gives them a salute as they go past, slowing down as the dirt track turns into the cobbles of the streets, out of consideration for the cart's suspension if nothing else. ]
So, boarding house, right? [ He takes the turn towards it. ] What are we picking up? Contraband?
Yeah, that does track somehow. [Monster trucks. That he paid for tickets. He can see it.
As for the why:] Yeah, something like that. You're waiting for me? [Hmmm. Hmm. He's weighing this. On one hand, his reputation as a youth cockblock may be ruined. On the other, he can give Eddie a piece of his mind and House at the same time. Two birds, one stone.
On the third hard, he doubts House will ever let him live this tantrum down. ] You don't have to.
[ He does, in fact, have at least two things, but he's reasonably confident they'll both still be waiting for him in bed when he gets back. And this will give him a little more insight into what Hopper does in his spare time. Valuable information in certain circles.
The cart hums through the narrow streets. House pulls in beside the gate to the yard in front of the boarding house and cuts off the engine. ]
Okay buddy, meter's running. Oh, pick me up some breakfast while you're in there.
Lucky me, [he says before he removes his damp behind from House's damp passenger seat.
He does grab something bread-like and something fruit-like on his way to the quarters. Something that looks passably breakfast-ish, anyway. They're shoved into his pockets as he stalks through the halls with purpose, with intention.
Straight to Eddie's room, where he is mercifully the only who bothered to come home last night, it seems. For a long, long moment he stands in the doorway, breathing out harshly through his nose. He takes in Eddie sleeping, even if may just be pretending to be asleep. The softness of his face, the way his hair pools in messy curls. The way his limbs poke out from the blanket, stretched out across the three mattresses pushed together.
He almost feels fond. Except, of course, that he is exceptionally cross. ] I know you're awake, [is what Jim says before he crosses the distance into the room and tugs Eddie by the ankle. ] Up. Now. We're going.
( it's the feeling of being watched that draws eddie out of a really comfortable sleep, a great dream that he's already forgetting but involves a really hot hookup in a dark bar, music blaring and his heart pounding. he's drawn back to a body that's actually sore in a lot of places, but in a good way. the right sort of soreness at the back of his throat that'll make his voice more like a purr than a drawl.
eddie's on his stomach, always been a stomach sleeper when he's alone. he licks his lips, snuffling and rubbing his face into the pillow he's been drooling on as the hand underneath said pillow for the knife he snagged from jim's room when its previous owner was off fishing. he doesn't reach it before the intruder -- actually jim hopper -- speaks. he almost takes the bait, almost grumbles when he's tugged. instead he yelps. ) What the fuck!
( he lifts his head, looks over his shoulder and the mass of grown out curls he's rocking, to glare at jim hopper. ) Why are you here? What time is it? No. No, I'm too hungover for this.
( it's mostly said into the mattress and blankets as he grabs at the headboard for leverage, kicks his leg to get hopper off of him. )
[Ooooh no he doesn't. Jim's got a hold of that ankle with one hand, then two. He gives a good 'ole haul and pull right until Eddie's at the edge of the bed, within grabbing distance. He goes for his middle; grabs him around it with both arms, blanket included, and heaves him over one shoulder. ]
We need to have a little chat, I think. [This is all he gets. He's too busy bracing for Eddie to start wriggling himself free, walking briskly back down the way he came. If there's some mercy in this world, the blanket is hopefully swaddling him in place. ]
About WHAT? ( eddie growls, still not awake enough to be manhandled out of his own bed like a runaway bride. except there's no one else in the bed with him, no one he's slipped out on hopper with since they'd had their little moment the night before.
eddie had promised to be normal about this so he's not really putting two and two together about why he's suddenly swaddled, lifted out of bed with strength he figured hopper didn't have with the state of his back. there's a moment, a long moment, where all his brain fills with is radio static because being hauled out of his bed with that brute of force does something to his dick. that's what keeps him still, actually, and is his downfall. )
Hop. We talked yesterday. ( it hadn't been eddie's proudest moment but it had felt final, even with the cloudy memory. when hopper doesn't let him down he sighs, still squirming. ) At least let me put on some underwear!
Yeah, see, I thought we did too. [He's ignoring the underwear comment, thanks. He's on a mission; he will see this through. He's also not elaborating, too busy wrangling the front door open and then out in the brisker cold, straight down the path back to the cart.
He considers the backseat for a long moment,, ignoring House in the front seat. He thinks better of it, absolutely certain Eddie will try to make a run for it if he offers him even a slither of freedom. Not Today. The passenger seat it is, Eddie swung around into a bridal carry as Jim climbs back in, and offers to House, without a second of preamble: ] Drive.
[ While waiting, House has been entertaining himself by singing and drumming on the dashboard along to the Rolling Stones classic 'Satisfaction', or at least as much as he can remember of it, watching the handful of folks around in the chill and fog-shrouded morning, and wagering with himself over what Hopper's doing inside.
He's settled on Hopper retrieving some kind of shameful piece of sex furniture by the time the man in question reappears with -- well, he wasn't that far off. House regards the pair of them with raised eyebrows, but he knows a demand for a quick getaway when he hears it. ]
I don't know, Indy, I've got a bad feeling about this! [ His Short Round impression is terrible and borderline offensive, but as Eddie is bundled in -- all angles and elbows -- he gets the engine going and peels out in a sharp turn, hopefully not spilling his passengers out onto the cobbles. Then it's a matter of foot to the floor and the cart leaps out, magical-gas motor whining as it speeds off down the street towards the gate. ]
( eddie's trying to wiggle his way out when he spots the goddamn golf cart and house sitting in it. he narrows his eyes, tries to get out of jim's arms again but he's pretty much a caterpillar in a cacoon right now or stuck in a chinese finger trap, the blankets keep getting tighter.
which is great for his dignity and not so great for his survival. it shouldn't be so hot that he's being manhandled like this, he really thinks there's something wrong with him as he's settled into jim's lap. he glances over his shoulder. jim got a glare first thing and house gets a grin because he's not on eddie's shit list at all right now, far from it despite being an accomplice here. the confusion and delight tells him this was at least somewhat of a surprise for the guy. ) Fancy seeing you here, doc.
( he's settled for a moment as the cart takes off and then remembers what the fuck is happening, squirms again and when they go over a bump ends up legs hanging out of the gold cart and his head in house's lap, ass squirming in jim's through layers of blankets. he winces, knows he's landed on houses' bad thigh. ) Sorry.
( then he cranes his neck, looks up at jim. ) Yeah, Hopper. Share with the class. Why am I being dragged off like I'm some runaway bride who made an exit on the wedding night?
No, it's a - [Yes, it's a kidnapping. Eddie gets a little irritated glance as he's toppled over, head on House's lap. Like it's his fault, and not the doing of gravity. ] It's an education.
[Of sorts. Jim's not exactly running on rational thinking here, is he? A rational man doesn't hitch a ride into town and throw someone over their shoulder. If he calls it what it is, though, he'll have to face. What it is. He's very tired, and very hungover, and still very cross with Eddie Munson.
To Eddie, before he makes an attempt to haul him back up by the scruff:] You know exactly what this is about. [Look, he's even giving House the same little irritated glance, just so he gets it. ]
[ Eddie landing in his lap earns a wince, but at least his head landed on his thigh and not the boys. He's not sure if he could drive the cart with a hangover and crushed beans.
House ignores the look he's getting from Jim, keeping his attention on steering the cart through the town's narrow streets and out of the gate. They just about manage to avoid colliding with the guards, though it's a near thing -- one of them leaps back with a shout, but they're already heading down the track towards the forest. ]
Wow, I can't believe I'm an accomplice to an education.
( eddie's kind of impressed they haven't crashed into anything, also wondering what this looks like to the townspeople who are out and about at this hour. it probably looks like the insanity it is or just another saturday morning, praise the duchess or whatever.
the lack of pavment beyond the gates does nothing to stop him from squirming, even as he's scruffed and pulled back up. he reaches one hand out of his little blanket cocoon and grabs on to jim's coat for leverage before realizing he has to lean into him to not fall back down. he's left with his head on jim's shoulder, house at his back.
eyes narrowed, he licks his lips. ) Are you mad about an orgy?
I'm not mad about anything, Eddie. [He is very mad, actually. His tone though? Ice cold, pure calm. He holds Eddie very sweetly too; places a hand on the back of his head, cradles him tightly to his chest.
He gives House another glance, this one more an apology for what he is About To Witness. ] I'm just disappointed in you. That's all. [Ouch.]
[ Like any good audience to a soap opera or Jerry Springer special, House is ready to play along. He gives the adequate ooooooh of scandalised delight. Despite being both the cause of and solution to this entire situation, he's definitely enjoying this deeply embarassing little peek into the private lives of Hopper and Eddie.
The golf cart hums along, snapping branches under its wheels and scaring the life out of winter fattened squirrels as they start across the path. ]
I dunno, you still sound kind of mad, Hopper. [ He's not above contributing helpfully to this argument. ]
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Nah, I'm saving them for a rainy day. I like having something to sniff when I'm bored.
[ He sticks the cigarette between his teeth, guns the engine and pulls out. The tracks through the forest are not made for wheels and the golf cart isn't made for cross-country driving over anything more challenging than a well manicured green; between that and the frozen, uneven ground of the forest, there's a lot of turbulence. Jim might want to hold on to something.
As they go along through the underbrush, House fishes in the pocket of his coat and produces a small bottle, which he offers over to Hopper without taking his eyes off the "road". ]
Better than hair of the dog.
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Is that opium? [Once again, Jim Hopper simply feels like a high school Don't Do Drugs poster. Are you being pressured by friends to take drugs? Yes. Wonderful distraction from the thought of House sniffing his panties, to which he is horrifically not revolted by.]
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[ House keeps the vial held out, driving one handed, teeth still gritted around his smoke. It's all a bit Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, he can't exactly blame Hopper for being hesitant.
They bump and bounce down the trail. House doesn't seem particularly interested in going slowly in the name of safety, either. ]
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In any case, one hand is gripping the side beam. ] Thanks, appreciate it. If I start slurring my words, at least make sure you throw me into a bed.
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[ Says the man who has already dosed himself before leaving the warmth of his own cabin. Not that he was completely sober at that point. His own hangover is a problem he's pushing ahead of him, like a Sisyphean boulder.
It's not long before they hit the main track between the farmlands and the town. House swings them around, careless of Hopper's fragile state. He smokes as he drives, enjoying the familiarity of it, then companionably offers the cigarette to Jim as well. ]
Did you see Stephen's magic tricks last night? You think he does bar mitzvahs?
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Great to be a white guy from the 80's, wonderful -] Oh, you should ask him. I'm sure he'll love that. [Jim would absolutely love that, privately. Alone.] I think he was just showing off. He likes to show off.
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Yeah, I got that from the fact that he calls himself Doctor Strange.
[ He glances briefly at Hopper, assessing if he's likely to throw up or fall off. The goat is a better passenger than this. ]
You should start sleeping together. Preferably soon. If it's before spring I win the pool.
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[His sexuality crisis is going GREAT thanks for asking!] Well, more than I am. Already. [ahem. anyway. ] Can you slow down on the bumps, please. Think of your cart, House.
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[ He's not slowing down. In fact, he makes a point of swerving around a farmer heading out to the fields in the other direction, giving her a merry wave as they go past. ]
John wants a double date. I think we should go bowling.
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[Affectionate. His guts stay inside, for now. ] Oh, sure. Here I was thinking go karting was more your speed.
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[ He's being completely honest and also mostly griping to himself at this point. They're coming up on the town, the walls visible through the trees as they rattle and bounce down the track. House takes one last drag on his cigarette, then pitches the butt into the trees. Littering, the very least of his crimes.
This time House elects not to use his parking space (the disabled parking bay is carefully outlined in chalk beside the gate, along with a small sign identifying it as for Doctor House's use only), but drives on through. The guards on the gate are surprised, but they recognise the men in the cart, and they get waved into the town. House gives them a salute as they go past, slowing down as the dirt track turns into the cobbles of the streets, out of consideration for the cart's suspension if nothing else. ]
So, boarding house, right? [ He takes the turn towards it. ] What are we picking up? Contraband?
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As for the why:] Yeah, something like that. You're waiting for me? [Hmmm. Hmm. He's weighing this. On one hand, his reputation as a youth cockblock may be ruined. On the other, he can give Eddie a piece of his mind and House at the same time. Two birds, one stone.
On the third hard, he doubts House will ever let him live this tantrum down. ] You don't have to.
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[ He does, in fact, have at least two things, but he's reasonably confident they'll both still be waiting for him in bed when he gets back. And this will give him a little more insight into what Hopper does in his spare time. Valuable information in certain circles.
The cart hums through the narrow streets. House pulls in beside the gate to the yard in front of the boarding house and cuts off the engine. ]
Okay buddy, meter's running. Oh, pick me up some breakfast while you're in there.
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He does grab something bread-like and something fruit-like on his way to the quarters. Something that looks passably breakfast-ish, anyway. They're shoved into his pockets as he stalks through the halls with purpose, with intention.
Straight to Eddie's room, where he is mercifully the only who bothered to come home last night, it seems. For a long, long moment he stands in the doorway, breathing out harshly through his nose. He takes in Eddie sleeping, even if may just be pretending to be asleep. The softness of his face, the way his hair pools in messy curls. The way his limbs poke out from the blanket, stretched out across the three mattresses pushed together.
He almost feels fond. Except, of course, that he is exceptionally cross. ] I know you're awake, [is what Jim says before he crosses the distance into the room and tugs Eddie by the ankle. ] Up. Now. We're going.
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eddie's on his stomach, always been a stomach sleeper when he's alone. he licks his lips, snuffling and rubbing his face into the pillow he's been drooling on as the hand underneath said pillow for the knife he snagged from jim's room when its previous owner was off fishing. he doesn't reach it before the intruder -- actually jim hopper -- speaks. he almost takes the bait, almost grumbles when he's tugged. instead he yelps. ) What the fuck!
( he lifts his head, looks over his shoulder and the mass of grown out curls he's rocking, to glare at jim hopper. ) Why are you here? What time is it? No. No, I'm too hungover for this.
( it's mostly said into the mattress and blankets as he grabs at the headboard for leverage, kicks his leg to get hopper off of him. )
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[Ooooh no he doesn't. Jim's got a hold of that ankle with one hand, then two. He gives a good 'ole haul and pull right until Eddie's at the edge of the bed, within grabbing distance. He goes for his middle; grabs him around it with both arms, blanket included, and heaves him over one shoulder. ]
We need to have a little chat, I think. [This is all he gets. He's too busy bracing for Eddie to start wriggling himself free, walking briskly back down the way he came. If there's some mercy in this world, the blanket is hopefully swaddling him in place. ]
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eddie had promised to be normal about this so he's not really putting two and two together about why he's suddenly swaddled, lifted out of bed with strength he figured hopper didn't have with the state of his back. there's a moment, a long moment, where all his brain fills with is radio static because being hauled out of his bed with that brute of force does something to his dick. that's what keeps him still, actually, and is his downfall. )
Hop. We talked yesterday. ( it hadn't been eddie's proudest moment but it had felt final, even with the cloudy memory. when hopper doesn't let him down he sighs, still squirming. ) At least let me put on some underwear!
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He considers the backseat for a long moment,, ignoring House in the front seat. He thinks better of it, absolutely certain Eddie will try to make a run for it if he offers him even a slither of freedom. Not Today. The passenger seat it is, Eddie swung around into a bridal carry as Jim climbs back in, and offers to House, without a second of preamble: ] Drive.
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He's settled on Hopper retrieving some kind of shameful piece of sex furniture by the time the man in question reappears with -- well, he wasn't that far off. House regards the pair of them with raised eyebrows, but he knows a demand for a quick getaway when he hears it. ]
I don't know, Indy, I've got a bad feeling about this! [ His Short Round impression is terrible and borderline offensive, but as Eddie is bundled in -- all angles and elbows -- he gets the engine going and peels out in a sharp turn, hopefully not spilling his passengers out onto the cobbles. Then it's a matter of foot to the floor and the cart leaps out, magical-gas motor whining as it speeds off down the street towards the gate. ]
Hopper, is this a kidnapping?
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which is great for his dignity and not so great for his survival. it shouldn't be so hot that he's being manhandled like this, he really thinks there's something wrong with him as he's settled into jim's lap. he glances over his shoulder. jim got a glare first thing and house gets a grin because he's not on eddie's shit list at all right now, far from it despite being an accomplice here. the confusion and delight tells him this was at least somewhat of a surprise for the guy. ) Fancy seeing you here, doc.
( he's settled for a moment as the cart takes off and then remembers what the fuck is happening, squirms again and when they go over a bump ends up legs hanging out of the gold cart and his head in house's lap, ass squirming in jim's through layers of blankets. he winces, knows he's landed on houses' bad thigh. ) Sorry.
( then he cranes his neck, looks up at jim. ) Yeah, Hopper. Share with the class. Why am I being dragged off like I'm some runaway bride who made an exit on the wedding night?
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[Of sorts. Jim's not exactly running on rational thinking here, is he? A rational man doesn't hitch a ride into town and throw someone over their shoulder. If he calls it what it is, though, he'll have to face. What it is. He's very tired, and very hungover, and still very cross with Eddie Munson.
To Eddie, before he makes an attempt to haul him back up by the scruff:] You know exactly what this is about. [Look, he's even giving House the same little irritated glance, just so he gets it. ]
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House ignores the look he's getting from Jim, keeping his attention on steering the cart through the town's narrow streets and out of the gate. They just about manage to avoid colliding with the guards, though it's a near thing -- one of them leaps back with a shout, but they're already heading down the track towards the forest. ]
Wow, I can't believe I'm an accomplice to an education.
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the lack of pavment beyond the gates does nothing to stop him from squirming, even as he's scruffed and pulled back up. he reaches one hand out of his little blanket cocoon and grabs on to jim's coat for leverage before realizing he has to lean into him to not fall back down. he's left with his head on jim's shoulder, house at his back.
eyes narrowed, he licks his lips. ) Are you mad about an orgy?
( is that what this is about? )
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He gives House another glance, this one more an apology for what he is About To Witness. ] I'm just disappointed in you. That's all. [Ouch.]
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The golf cart hums along, snapping branches under its wheels and scaring the life out of winter fattened squirrels as they start across the path. ]
I dunno, you still sound kind of mad, Hopper. [ He's not above contributing helpfully to this argument. ]
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cw: ref to additudes toward homosexuality in the 80s
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