"Usually." He picked another piece of rice out and shrugged at Val. "I might be more tired, though."
He blinked, then unfolded from the couch and reached for Charlie's empty bowl. "Give me a minute, I'll go get some bedding for you."
Charlie's eyes followed him, slow and hesitant, handing him the bowl after just a moment. "You don't have to."
"I know." He set the bowls in the sink. "It's no trouble." He was pushing his sleeves back to his elbows as he walked past Charlie, the white lotus tattoo very visible on his wrist now as he went to grab a pillow and some blankets from the linen closet in the hall.
Charlie tipped his head a little to watch him go, carefully putting the lid back on his tea. Maybe his eyes lingered, a bit.
He had an arm load when he came back, a plush pillow, a sheet, and a couple of soft blankets. "The couch folds out into a pretty comfortable bed." He dropped the load onto the chair where his jacket and a couple of sweaters were draped.
"Folds out?" He looked down at it, slowly, and then hummed a bit. He stood, stumbling a tiny bit, to get out of the way. "How?"
He smiled, couldn't help it, as the bigger man gave the couch a curious look. It made him wonder where exactly he'd been, and what he'd been doing. He seemed...naïve, in a way. "Yeah. Let me move the coffee table and I'll show you."
He could do that, at least; was strong enough he just stepped in to haul it out of the way, though it made him grimace a bit, back achy.
"Thanks." Though he was looking at him thoughtfully, watching the way he moved before sweeping a hand back through his hair. "Okay, so the cushions come off." He grabbed oen and set it on its end against the side of the couch.
"Okay." He hesitated, then stepped in to help, carefully, setting the cushions very gently aside.
When they were all gone he pointed to a handle on Charlie's side, then grabbed the one on his own. "Give that a pull, and the bed pops right out."
He tipped his head to look, then leaned in to put his hand on the lever, waiting until Val moved to pull on his own. And he would be -- not amazed, but amused, by the process.
It unfolded smoothly, a fitted sheet with a high thread count already in place. Valerie smoothed his hands over it, flicking a glance across at Charlie, and smiled to himself. "Much more comfortable than just the couch."
"It's huge." he sounded genuinely admiring, leaning back to look down at it, arms folded across his chest.
"If you think this is big, you should see my bed," he mused aloud, thoughtlessly, as he grabbed the sheet off the chair and fluffed it up so he could lay it out neatly.
Charlie blinked up at him at that, then looked off across the hall. "It looks really nice."
Another smile, pleased at the compliment. "Do you need another pillow, more blankets?" He spread the latter next, half crawling up to straighten a corner.
He shrugged a tiny bit, head cocked to just watch Val and the way he moved, fingers shifting against his arms. "I don't know."
He didn't notice, or didn't give away that he noticed. "I have an extra, I can grab it. It's nice having at least two."
He made a faint, agreeing sound, attention flashing back up as Val turned. "Okay. It does sound nice."
He eased back off the bed, a hand coming up to smooth his hair out of his face. "I'll be right back."
He blinked, shrugged just a tiny bit, and carefully stepped out of his shoes -- battered white nurse's shoes, no socks.
A hand on the wall, he paused in the hall to glance back. "I know you're tired, but you're welcome to use the shower." Then down the hall to fetch a pillow from his bed.
"I might...do that later." For now, he was sinking down to sit on the bed, slowly.
He had a pillow in his arms as he came back, walking around the foot of the bed so he could offer it down to Charlie. It wasn't one he used often, but it still smelled of his shampoo just faintly. "Do you need anything else?"
He took the pillow slowly, sprawling out on his stomach -- still dressed in his clothes, down to the leather jacket.
He blinked down at him, shifting from one foot to the other before reaching for the other pillow to set it beside him. "If that's a 'no' than I can leave you to get some rest." It was still early. Really early compared to what Val was used to.
"You don't have to worry." He scraped fingers up through the back of his hair, eyes closed. "I'm sure I've slept through worse than whatever you've got."
"Maybe." He gave an amused hum, moving through the room to get himself a glass of water. "But if you're not going to hope in the shower I think I will." It'd help him relax some, and there were little pills in his room that'd help him relax even more. "If you need anything just come find me, or call."
"I won't." He said it into his arm, head turned just a bit to look up at Val through his hair. "I appreciate this much."
He rolled his shoulders in a small shrug, flashing a smile down at him before he started for the hall. There'd be the small click of a door closing, and a few moments later the sound of running water.
While he was in there, Charlie wrapped himself up in the blankets -- still in his clothes under there, head ducked down, and thoroughly asleep. This time, he didn't start at Val's movements.
He was surprisingly quick, not that it mattered, and when he came out he was just in a towel. A quick peek showed Charlie was out for the count, and with a soft click of his tongue Val extended a hand and snapped his fingers, which in turn extinguished the overhead light in the living room so it'd be comfortably dark for him. Then he retreated to his room. To the pills. Sprawling out on his own bed to binge something on Netflix until he too could pass out.
Sometime after dark, finally, Charlie would move around in the house -- climbing out of bed to head to the bathroom, finally. Running water, as he took a shower, himself.
The TV was likely still on in Val's room, the door left open a few inches so in theory he'd hear if the other man called for him, but it'd take more than the sound of Charlie moving around, or the water, to drag him anywhere close to consciousness.
He'd peek in, with the door open -- curious, more than anything else, with a towel over his shoulders and most of his body out of sight. And his eyes raked over the TV, whatever Val had been watching.
Criminal minds, somewhere in the earlier seasons, when Gideon had still been on the team. Val had made it into a pair of soft pajama bottoms before he'd sprawled out on his stomach crookedly on the bed. He had one arm stretched out so his hand dangled off the edge of the bed, and the other curled under the pillow his head rested on. The phases of the moon spread in an arc across the back of his shoulders, and there was a line of writing down the line of his spine.
He lingered there, then, leaning against the wall while he worked a towel slowly through his hair, attention split between watching Val and watching the TV.
Without the eyeliner his features were softer, gentler. Pretty, in an androgynous way, with dark hair falling forward and sticking out wildly around the pillow. The sort of deep sleep that came with artificial assistance.
Eventually, he'd drag himself away -- explore the rest of the apartment thoroughly, invasive and unthinkingly. He wasn't going to steal anything, but he'd look at everything.
It'd be very telling, once he got into it. Especially when he looked through the living room. There were books on spell work, small charms and trinkets that were all thankfully benign or inactive. One of the ottomans opened to a well organized collection of scales, bags, small boxes, and a ledger that was quite impossible to open despite it having no lock or ties to hold it closed. There were clothes on the chair, one end of the couch. Mostly sweaters, but there was at least one pair of pants, and at the bottom of one pile something that looked a bit like a corset.
He pondered over it, curious, but didn't take anything -- didn't really move anything, just looked. Eventually, his focus would go to the kitchen, instead.
Lots of nice appliances that still looked relatively new, with the coffee maker being an obvious exception. There were a lot of snacks, small things someone could grab to eat on their way out the door. Not a whole lot of items that went into making actual meals. In one cupboard there were a number of open and unopened bottles of liquor, likewise in the freezer. The thin cupboard next to the sink held over the counter and prescription pill bottles, name brand cold medication, allergy pills, and half a bag of cough drops.
The snacks held his attention the most; he sat staring at chips especially, chewing on the corner of his mouth and trying to decide if it was okay to steal one. Eventually, he decided he was hungry enough it didn't matter, and sat on the couch to eat them. He'd fall asleep with the bag still in hand, wrapped up in blankets and a towel.
Val wasn't usually an early bird, his schedule really didn't allow it, but he also never really needed to get a full eight hours. Having gone to bed so damn early, the smaller man dragged himself out of bed a little before seven thirty. The sun wasn't even up yet as he padded almost silently down the hall and out into the living room. Pausing just inside as dark eyes landed on the bed and the man curled up on the couch. "Right." That had actually happened. Not just a really weird dream. He walked quietly around to look down at him as he slept, smiling at the bag of chips that were starting to slip from pale fingers. He reached out to catch the edge of the package to draw the bag slowly from his grip.
It was too close -- it made Charlie's eyes twitch open again, made him shift suddenly to catch Val's wrist, fingers too tight around his hand. Restraining, sharp, his attention immediately and almost dispassionately looking around them for a weapon. The movement shifted the blankets around him, and there was another fluttering glimpse of feathers beneath.
Val froze, breath hitched, as fingers closed around his wrist, letting the bag slip out of his hand as he looked down at the other man, the glimpse of feathers over his shoulders. Still shirtless, chest clear of any modifications aside from the barbells in either nipple. He licked his lips. "Charlie, you're hurting my wrist." Calm, at least for now.
He drew in a breath and then blew it out, letting go almost all at once -- scrambling to pull the blanket back in over him. Charlie'd lost his scrub tops somewhere along the way too, and it put his arms on display, a glimpse of shoulder which was heavily scarred, but...clinically so. Tidy little scars along joints. exploratory. He covered these up too, tightening the blanket in and blinking himself back into focus.
He flexed his fingers as Charlie let him go, straightening again and rubbing fingers along his wrist. Watching as Charlie collected himself, pulled the blankets in tighter, but not before Valerie had seen the scars. "Sorry." He took a small step back, bent to grab the dropped bag. "I don't mean to wake you up."
"I should have heard you coming." It was rough, ragged in his throat, like Charlie hadn't slept half the day away. He swallowed roughly, closing his eyes.
"I'm very light on my feet," he offered after a moment, turning to put the chips back in the kitchen. They were probably stale, oh well. Future Val's problem. "Do you want some coffee?"
As Val moved away he cracked his eyes again, watching him go - uneasily, this time. "I don't like coffee very much."
"Tea?" He had a rolling gait that was more obvious when he was wearing less. Like there was music playing in his head. He lifted a hand to try to tame hair that was impossibly fluffed from having slept on it wet.
Charlie swallowed again, rough and tense, before he answered. "Sweet?"
"I have sugar." He thought the milk was still good, too. "Easy enough to make it sweet." Not what he'd been asking for, Val didn't think, but if he didn't like it there was more Snapple in the fridge.
He nodded at that, sinking back down onto his stomach on the bed with the blankets all tangled around him, breathing in that careful way again.
Val futzed about in the kitchen, getting mugs down, adding tea leaves to a diffuser, getting cream and sugar for himself. He'd steal little glances back at Charlie as he moved around.
He didn't get up, but shuffled under the blankets -- in search of his shirt, maybe, and his jacket, already kicking himself for not putting it all back on while Val had been down for the count.
Maybe Val noticed, or maybe it was just already on his mind. "Do you want me to toss in a load of laundry for you, so you have clean clothes to get back into?" The tea was made, sweetened with sugar and milk. He walked back with that and another mug in his other hand.
He paused at that, still under the blankets, went still for a moment -- "I don't have any other clothes."
He lowered the mug down so he could grab it easily. "I might have some pants that'll fit you." It was thoughtful, head cocked to the side.
He stayed where he was another moment, then shifted, just poking his head up -- still all wrapped in the blankets. "If you have a shirt you don't care about and a pair of scissors, I can make that work, too."
"I'll look." He'd set the tea on the side table, fingers curling instead around his coffee as he walked back towards the hall. "But if you're covering up for my sake, you really don't need to."
He didn't come out, though, just stared bleakly at Val -- and it was obvious he had no idea what to say in response to that.
It wasn't the sort of reaction he was used to getting for that sort of a comment and it made him stop short just before the hall, half turning to rest against the wall. "Sorry. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable." He ran the tips of his fingers along warm ceramic. "But you don't have to hide. Here."
It was a moment before he moved, slowly, to take the mug Val left on the table -- his movements very careful. He wrapped both hands around the mug, hot or no. "I'm extremely uncomfortable, but it's not your fault."
"Physically, or...?" He knew the other man was more hurt than he was letting on, but wasn't sure to what extent.
"I'm just out of my depth." It was quiet and -- yes, uncomfortable, attention turned down.
Val nodded, gaze flicking down and away as he turned finally to go root through his dresser. He wasn't positive anything he came back with would actually fit. They didn't belong to Val, but had been left there by past lovers or clientele. Two pairs of pants, one denim and one drawstring. Four shirts, medium or large in size.
Charlie stayed where he was in the bed, scraping at his own hair, which had gone wild and scraggly from sleeping on it wet.
"I don't know if any of this will fit, but you can modify it however you want or need." He laid the items out one handed, went to dig into the junk drawer for a pair of scissors, then tucked himself into the plush chair to huddle around his coffee.
Charlie still sat on the bed, rubbing at his face and trying to gather his thoughts. "This is a lot to ask of you."
His shoulders rolled in a shrug, mug coming up for a small, cautious sip. Flavored cream, no sugar. "If someone hadn't done something like this for me I don't know where I'd have ended up."
He closed his eyes, his own tea largely forgotten, mulling it over. "I don't like what I'm going to owe you, though."
He looked at him over the edge of his mug. "What do you think you'll owe me?"
He shrugged crookedly, without opening his eyes. "It always comes back around."
His thumb stroked slowly along the ceramic handle, gaze flicked past Charlie and at the window. "You don't owe me anything." It was decisive.
"Uh huh." He didn't sound convinced, though; shifted fingers around his mug, sitting back slowly.
"I don't have any interest in taking from someone that has nothing to spare." He was still looking out the window, what little he could see through the thin gap in the curtains.
