Vincent hardly keeps normal hours, which is why he's awake, albeit in bed and reading. He'll come to the door, steps hastening a little more when he picks up a distinctive sort of scent. He looks calm all the same as he opens the door and tilts his head.
"Well, well, well, I don't recall ordering delivery but I certainly won't shoo such an attractive parcel away."
He showered this morning, but he knows he hadn't exactly been taking care of himself and he most certainly wouldn't call himself an attractive parcel though he isn't about to correct him either.
"It's not delivery, It's Digiorno." Is the poor excuse for a comeback he comes up with instead, slipping inside. He's not entirely sure whether he wants to hold him or turn around and hide again, but he's trying to fight the impulse. "Reading anything interesting?"
Yes, well, he's not getting much of a choice because an arm is going around his shoulders and he's getting gently ushered in with a kiss in his hair and a rub to the back of his neck.
"Always, but you'll have to join me in bed if you want access. I'm not ready to share it since I'm mid read."
"Oh no, not your bed! You'll have to drag me, kicking and screaming..." He says dramatically as he's pulled in, toeing off his vans and stumbling forward.
His own hand finds the one at his shoulder and gives it a little squeeze, "Or, you know just give me a little shove and I'll crawl right in myself."
"Shove, shove," he says in a deadpan tone, and if Hanna flops into the bed, he'll lean over to help lift and shift him to properly lay in the bed. He's in an (uncharacteristically lax) t-shirt and pajama pants through all of this, and some of the scarrification on his arms is visible, not to mention some dark lines on his back through the t-shirt.
"So aggressive," He teases as he very much flops, fighting a wince as he rolls over and settles on his side to avoid laying on his bruised stomach.
He's in jeans, but that's fine, casually unbuttoning them so that he's not going to wake up with an indent of it pressed into his waist. He'd pull his sweater off, but he's just got an undershirt under there and he's not really feeling like flashing his own scars at the moment.
"So..." The unfortunate part of not being a plan guy is that he didn't exactly think this through before he came by. But at least that meant he couldn't talk himself out of it either. "I might have punched Arthur Lester in the face the other day. And I tried to punch Malcolm but uh- Did you know he was a werewolf? Cause I fucking didn't. That was embarrassing..."
"No idea," he says with a shrug, "but given you generally apologize to ants that you step on, I'm assuming they were being impossibly wardenish at you."
He will peer at the sweater for a moment before walking over and grabbing one of his own t-shirts and he'll toss it over to Hanna. The blankets can certainly serve as a changing room.
"Well, more like they wouldn't leave me alone. But Malcolm really needs to learn how to keep his 'highly educated' mouth shut. Guy seems to hone in on the worst possible thing to say at the worst possible time and then gets all surprised when you tell him he is being a fucking asshole." Though Arthur had been rather grating in his attempt to figure him and his issue out as well. Lark he at least was able to throw a different bone to and avoid that shit altogether.
Sitting up, he doesn't feel the need to pull the blankets up, it isn't like Vincent hasnt seen it, but he is quick about changing his shirt. There's barely a flash of a staple and the large bruise across his stomach before he's replaced his sweater and undershirt with it.
"Mmm if I do that then I don't get to be snotty and those are rare occasions. Can't pass them up."
He scootches so it's easier, resting his hands on the other man's chest, forehead bumping into his shoulder. "You're being super chill and I was kind of expecting you to be like, a little irritated with me for disappearing for a bit at the very least." He relaxes a little more, "or was it a long overdue vacation?"
Vincent lets out a deep sigh and kisses his hair again.
"You're bruised, I can smell some of the after effects of old wounds, your pants were torn up, and you hobbled to my door clearly in a terrible mood. Ah, yes, exactly now is when I'm going to give you shit for your communication choices: in the middle of the night."
Hanna wrinkles his now unbroken nose. "What the hell..." He thought he could have gotten away with that since Ulla had fixed his face. "I think I'm losing my touch." Or Vincent just cares a hell of a lot more than he's used to and it makes hiding shit a lot harder.
Clearly this wasn't a part of his nonexistent plan but there isn't anything he can do about it now. He can be grumpy about it though even with those kisses, maybe a little less because of them, but he does try and sleep.
The fact that he's being cuddled at least helps him not worry about him being too angry with him and he'll get there eventually.
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Re: Post CK fight
"Well, well, well, I don't recall ordering delivery but I certainly won't shoo such an attractive parcel away."
And he'll step back to welcome him in.
Re: Post CK fight
"It's not delivery, It's Digiorno." Is the poor excuse for a comeback he comes up with instead, slipping inside. He's not entirely sure whether he wants to hold him or turn around and hide again, but he's trying to fight the impulse. "Reading anything interesting?"
Re: Post CK fight
"Always, but you'll have to join me in bed if you want access. I'm not ready to share it since I'm mid read."
Re: Post CK fight
His own hand finds the one at his shoulder and gives it a little squeeze, "Or, you know just give me a little shove and I'll crawl right in myself."
Re: Post CK fight
Not that he's addressing any of it.
Re: Post CK fight
He's in jeans, but that's fine, casually unbuttoning them so that he's not going to wake up with an indent of it pressed into his waist. He'd pull his sweater off, but he's just got an undershirt under there and he's not really feeling like flashing his own scars at the moment.
"So..." The unfortunate part of not being a plan guy is that he didn't exactly think this through before he came by. But at least that meant he couldn't talk himself out of it either. "I might have punched Arthur Lester in the face the other day. And I tried to punch Malcolm but uh- Did you know he was a werewolf? Cause I fucking didn't. That was embarrassing..."
Re: Post CK fight
He will peer at the sweater for a moment before walking over and grabbing one of his own t-shirts and he'll toss it over to Hanna. The blankets can certainly serve as a changing room.
Re: Post CK fight
Sitting up, he doesn't feel the need to pull the blankets up, it isn't like Vincent hasnt seen it, but he is quick about changing his shirt. There's barely a flash of a staple and the large bruise across his stomach before he's replaced his sweater and undershirt with it.
"Thanks. Now we match."
Re: Post CK fight
He'll slip into bed then and he reaches around to wrap his arms carefully under and over Hanna to loop.
Re: Post CK fight
He scootches so it's easier, resting his hands on the other man's chest, forehead bumping into his shoulder. "You're being super chill and I was kind of expecting you to be like, a little irritated with me for disappearing for a bit at the very least." He relaxes a little more, "or was it a long overdue vacation?"
Re: Post CK fight
"You're bruised, I can smell some of the after effects of old wounds, your pants were torn up, and you hobbled to my door clearly in a terrible mood. Ah, yes, exactly now is when I'm going to give you shit for your communication choices: in the middle of the night."
A huff.
"Sleep. I'll berate you in the morning."
Re: Post CK fight
But, he'll frown into his shoulder, "fine."
Re: Post CK fight
"Thank you."
And he's going to kiss his jawline and nuzzle up against the spot, carefully. Sleep, Hanna.
Re: Post CK fight
The fact that he's being cuddled at least helps him not worry about him being too angry with him and he'll get there eventually.