"No chance of a computer or anything is there?" He hesitated in the hall, waffling. "I haven't posted anywhere since before the hospital, people must. think I'm dead."
He thought about it for a long moment, like he wasn't entirely sure it was a great idea. "I have a laptop you could use, but out here." That'd be the comprise.
"No nude selfies then." It dug for that careless, joking tone and Beau almost found it again. He just sounded a little flat.
Will chuckled, shaking his head as he walked towards him, then turned to slip past to head down the hall and into his room to fetch the laptop.
Beau didn't trail him. Instead he lingered, standing awkwardly in the hall with a faint frown around the edges.
The laptop was open, balanced on Will's palm as he came back out, other hand working over the keyboard to type in a password. As he came up level with Beau he gestured for him to go back into the living room.
He hesitated, then went - to drop down on the couch and sprawl out, eyes tracking Will. "Going to sit and read over my shoulder?"
"Do I need to, or are you going to be good?" He shot him a look as he followed, sinking down on the couch with enough space between them to not be looming. Then he set the laptop on Beau's lap and reached for the remote to put something on the tv.
"I'm definitely not going to be good." He said it absently, pulling the laptop in. When he typed, it was hunt and peck, slow going. Beau obviously wasn't a touch typist.
Will snorted softly as he scrolled through show options. "Don't tell anyone where you are, or who's watching you."
"I don't actually know where I am." He'd fallen asleep in the car pretty much every time. Thinking about it made him pause, and then pull up google maps to have a look at his location.
He glanced over at the screen, then back to the tv. "So far your parents don't know, and it'd probably be best to keep it that way for as long as we can swing it." Powerful magicians trying to get into his house? No thank you.
"No location tagged instagram posts then, got it." But his tone was dry; as if he'd post any pictures of himself right now. With a beard. No. He pulled up facebook.
Will made a sound like he still wasn’t sure giving Beau the laptop was the best idea, but he didn't take it back. Just glanced briefly at the screen again as he settled into a comfortable looking slouch and kicked his feet up, finally settling on a movie.
He could do that, then, while Beau awkwardly typed up a couple messages, and then -- sat back to browse, almost absently tipping the screen so that Will couldn't peer in.
Will left him alone, head propped up on his hand, elbow on the arm of the couch.
Beau would keep going until the battery died. And, if this was meant to make him feel better, it failed utterly. Instead, he finally closed the lid with a frown on his face.
The movie was just about finished when Beau closed the laptop, but it made him look up, head tipping to glance at the younger man, brows arched. "What's wrong?"
He blinked at Will, then smoothed out his eyebrows, wiping the expression as clean as he could. "What, beside everything in my life?"
There was a beat where maybe Will might have tried to argue that, but apparently thought better of it. Instead his lips twitched a little, expression thoughtful but hard to read.
"I would say the only thing that's good in my life, right now, is the glass of wine I drank." He sprawled back, a hand on the laptop. But he was tense; tense in a way that was deeper than just general bitching about life.
Quiet for a moment, gaze flicking back to the action on the tv, then grey eyes slid back, trying to read the other man. "Did something happen?"
"Absolutely nothing." He said it sharply, eyes closed and head tipped back. But he said it like that was the problem.
"Ah." It sounded like he understood now, and maybe he did.
The tone made it worse. Beau scowled, then dropped the laptop on the couch between them and got up.
There was no actual rolling of eyes, but maybe Beau got that impression anyways as Will breathed out something that wasn't quite a sigh and turned his attention back to the movie.
He went off to the bathroom -- and about five minutes later poke his head back out. "Do you have a razor?"
The movie was over at that point so Will rolled up to his feet to head towards the bathroom so he could pull a razor from one of the drawers. He popped the old blade out, replacing it with a new one, and set it on the counter. "All the usual shaving accoutrements are in that drawer."
Beau looked down at it with a grimace -- like it was a really shitty razor, and maybe comparatively it was -- but he didn't voice that out loud. Just leaned in to poke through the drawer in search of whatever was nicest.
It was one of those monthly shave club deals, so not exactly high class, but it'd work well regardless. "Need anything else?" It was mild, helpful even.
He thought about that, like really thought about it, and then grimaced a bit. "I guess not."
"Okay." He lingered maybe an extra second or two in the doorway before heading back out and pulling the door mostly closed behind him. Beau could shut it the rest of the way if he wanted.
He did. And then set to shaving. Which shouldn't have taken terribly long, but with Beau -- it did. Half an hour passed and he was still working, and then forty five minutes, and the shower went on.
It was a long time, and at some point maybe Beau had heard the sound in the living room stop for perhaps a minute and a half before going back on after the razor tapped against the sink. As the water went on Will got up to make something to eat for dinner.
A good hour before he came out wrapped in a towel, with little nicks all along his jaw. Obviously, Beau wasn't much of a shaver. It would have been an improvement, maybe, if he hadn't injured himself so much, and if he wasn't grumbling as he went to get fresh clothes.
He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, but since Beau went straight to his room Will said nothing, just winced faintly to himself before going back to the plate that now sat in front of him at the counter.
Yet another thing he'd have to learn to do, and maybe it helped put things in perspective, having to start from scratch with so much. He came out in fresh clothes (more pajamas) eventually, with the scowl locked on his face.
Dinner today was lighter; BLT wraps with grilled chicken. Will was almost finished with his as Beau came back out, brows arching curiously at the look on his face.
He held up a finger, in challenge maybe, still scowling. If Will said anything, it'd make it worse. He stepped around to get a glass of water.
He shook his head in surrender and went back to eating.
Beau drank the water and grimaced a bit as he touched the very edge of one of those slashes, unhappy. maybe his plan had been a photo update, but that seemed shot to hell now. Eventually he cleared his throat. "How do people live like this?"
Broad shoulders shrugged as he brushed crumbs off bare fingers and folded them together. "Practice and virtue of necessity."
"There are better razors than that, too." He sounded cranky, still, staring down at the food. "Your skin must be like sandpaper."
"My skin is fine." He kept his tone cool and mild, deliberately not antagonizing.
"I didn't exactly see moisturizer in there." His jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth, and then stepped in to poke at the sandwich.
"Did you go through the rest of the drawers? There should be some." Again, not the best quality, but it seemed to work fine for Will.
He grunted, leaning in to pick the sandwich apart. He'd eat the bacon, at least. "I had some in my bag. Good stuff."
He just shrugged and stood up to take care of his plate, then walked around the counter to grab the laptop off the couch.
Beau sat and glared at his food, eating the bacon and maybe a bit of tomato and then picking at the wrap, with fingers tracing the scratches along his jaw.
"Do you want something for the cuts?" He said it absently as he opened the laptop and frowned as it didn't power up, then wandered down the hall with it to his room to grab the cord.
Just talking about it made him even huffier -- embarrassed, probably, but he hid it with annoyance, voice raised. "Like what, exactly."
He came back with the laptop and cord, but also had a little tube of pain relieving Neosporin, which he tossed on the counter at Beau before plugging the cord into the wall, and finally booting the computer up again. He slid into a stool opposite Beau now, and reached across to grab his gloves before actually touching the keyboard.
Beau frowned down at it, sitting slowly to pull it open and dab at the worst spots on his face. He'd left the laptop open to someone's facebook page: tall and skinny Chinese kid with glasses and an easygoing smile. Specifically to his pictures, out with a handful of other young men, with his arm around one. Apparently, he was an engineering student.
Will blinked at the page that loaded up, brows arching subtly before pale eyes flicked down to the rest of the pictures he could see, mouse cursor hovering over the 'x' in the corner.
There weren't any pictures with Beau immediately apparent. Mostly they seemed to be engineering events, mostly with other Asian American students. And a lot with one in particular, on his recent timeline.
He really shouldn't have kept looking, it wasn't his business, but he scrolled down a bit more as he flicked a glance over the screen at Beau.
Beau wasn't looking. He was still frowning down at the neosporin, reading the ingredients like he'd never seen the stuff before. So Will could snoop, if he wanted; go back through the timeline. But he'd have to dig to find pictures of the guy with Beau. Months back. Before the party.
He kept scrolling until Beau either stopped being distracted, or he found the other man in the pictures.
"What the hell does this even mean?" It was sharp, annoyed, his eyes raised. By the time he spoke, Will had come to the honeymoon phase, apparently; lots of pictures of the two very close, with one of Da-Wei's arms looped over Beau's shoulders, even one picture of Beau kissing him on the cheek, perfectly staged.
It made him blink, and he lifted his head as he closed the window, brows arched. "What does what mean?" But he'd seen enough, probably, to figure out why Beau was in a shittier mood than it seemed like he should be.
"Neomycin sulfate," he read. Very carefully. "What is it?"
He didn't know off the top of his head so he pulled up google to type it in, fingers moving smoothly over the keys. "It's an antibiotic."
"Polymyxin B sulfate?" He shook his head just a bit at Will.
He typed that in too. "Also an antibiotic, targeting different kinds of infections."
"You don't even know what this stuff is, but you put it on." It came with a little shake of his head, frowning at Will.
"Doctor recommended," he tossed back easily, faintly amused. "I have magic stuff that works better, but it's not going to work on you."
"Way to rub it in." That was even more sour. He brushed at the point of his chin, unhappily. Like this, though, his cheekbones seemed much starker, jaw squarer.
He let out a huff of a breath, frowning as he turned his attention to the laptop and the reason he'd pulled it out to begin with; looking over case files. He moved from the counter to the couch. "Not everything I say is meant to be a dig at you."
"If you say so." He sounded dubious, though, like he didn't quite believe it.
The frown lingered as he logged into the SWBP server, scanning through everything recent that had come in in the last two days. He hadn't given Beau a hard time since lunch. Had been down right nice, in fact.
And yet everything prickled. He picked at more of the wrap, then picked everything up to dump out what was left and pull away back to the bathroom. He wanted to look at the damage now that it had dried.
Will just let him go, understanding enough not to make a big deal out of Beau's shitty mood, but annoyed enough not to go after him.
Eventually he came out, with his face washed and the worst of it calmed down but his expression still bleak. He threw himself down on the couch to watch Will work.
He'd glance up when he heard Beau coming back down the hall, watching him until he flopped down on the couch, then went back to what he was doing. Which probably wasn't terribly interesting to watch. He was opening case files, looking through them long enough to get a sense of if he could assist on them without having to go into the station, and then moving onto the next one.
It was boring, but it was also probably confidential, so Beau watched and paid attention, more or less, until he finally drifted off again next to Will, head rolling to one side.
It was confidential, but Will also wasn't lingering on any page longer than a minute or two, and the majority of the cases were minor things. He hardly seemed to notice when Beau drifted off, not until he got up to get a glass of water and sat down carefully so he wouldn't disturb the other man. He just continued to work quietly, tv running in the background just for the low noise.
It was funny: he never quite seemed to sleep when he was supposed to, but went out like a light when he was between things. He'd shift a little when Will got up, and again when he sat down, leaning into him -- but still sound asleep.
He paused in what he was doing as he felt Beau lean in against him, and he tipped his head enough to look down at him -- really looking at him for probably the first time. And instead of nudging him over, or waking him up to send him to his own bed, he just sat there, quietly. Even after he'd finished with flagging cases and had put the laptop away.
It was easy to forget that Beau was only in his early twenties -- young, really, in the grand scheme of things, and only kind of out of his parents' home. It was easier to remember that when he was asleep, and not glaring or clenching his teeth or dryly mocking, with hair loose and wild around his face and his mouth open just a little bit. He didn't snore. Much.
Too young, probably, for Will to keep stealing glances, or to be as comfortable as he was with the younger man laying warm against his shoulder. And there was definitely more than one reason why he should have moved him, but he was reluctant to do. It'd get to the point where the sun had gone down and it was getting close to when Will usually went to bed, he lifted a hand to nudge Beau softly and paused, gloved fingertips very carefully moving a bit of hair from his face instead.
He puffed out a little breath and twitched -- and grimaced, mouth moving as the gesture woke him up. He yawned and shifted a little bit, reaching up himself to scrape his hair back as he cracked his eyes.
Will pulled his hand back, watching Beau's face as he stirred, shifting a bit before opening his eyes, barely.
His eyebrows twitched and, as he realized he was on Will he sat up all at once. Wincing, as he did, his neck gone all tense.
He couldn't quite help a small, amused smile. And now that Beau had sat up he could finally move, arms stretching up before folding loosely over his stomach.
Beau rubbed at the back of his neck and worked the sour taste out of his mouth, frowning at Will. And he didn't say anything. Not yet.
When Beau didn't say anything Will gave him a questioning look, head tipping.
"Time is it?" He was croaky, mouth dry; and finally struggled up to stand to get another glass of water.
Will held out his glass, still half full, as Beau moved to stand. "Little after ten. You've been out for a while."
"Fuck me." He leaned in against the counter, brushing at his hair and -- after a moment -- taking the water to sip.
"Seemed like you needed the sleep," he pointed out quietly, tone neutral, fingertips tapping silently against the arm of the coach.
