Etraya: Inbox

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

TEXT • VOICE • VIDEO • ACTION
USERNAME: HANK

Hank here. I probably don’t give a rat’s ass what you have to say. Leave me alone. How the hell do I get this damn thing to stop rec — [BEEP]

Comments

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

They’re. Uh. Got a nice lookin’ texture to them.

[Except Hank obviously hasn’t touched them so that sounds very weird.]

I mean — you know what I mean. [Rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting away.] Looks real good, Connor.

[instabilitatem]

[Connor looks down and runs his fingers over the texture in question. He didn't realize anything was wrong with it, but perhaps he thought wrong.]

It does. I enjoy wearing it.

[It isn't his favorite color blue, but Connor doesn't mind too much.]

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Better keep Sumo off of it. You know how he sheds.

[Now Hank is just rambling.

His face isn’t warm. It’s just hot in here. Why is it so warm in here??]

Guess I would’ve figured you’d pick something more like — y’know.

[Which is Hank’s way of saying “that whole beanie get-up,” but he remembers, again, that this Connor never got to that point.]

[instabilitatem]

[Connor looks down at himself and then back up at Hank.] I don't think I know what you mean.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

It’s nothing.

[They haven’t touched much on everything Connor missed back home. Hank still isn’t sure how it might make him feel to know everything.]

A while after Kamski’s place, you got some new clothes, is all. Had a jacket that looked kinda like Reed’s, honestly. Pretty sharp. And a — [voice a little garbled] — beanie.

[After clearing his throat:] Guess I just thought you might like wearing that sort of thing.

[instabilitatem]

Hmm. [Connor considers that, creating a mental image of himself in a leather jacket and beanie. It's not too off the mark, but Connor also assumes he must have dressed in such a way because of an assignment.]

I can change if you like.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

No.

[Said very quickly — too quickly — but Hank tries to shrug it off.]

I like it. I mean, doesn’t matter if I like it, but — it’s fine, Connor. It’s good to see you trying new things. Exploring your style, and all that.

[instabilitatem]

[Well, that was fast.]

It felt... comfortable and I like the color. [Blue will always be his absolute favorite, but he enjoys white as well.]

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Is that all you got?

[A little shifty-eyed. Don’t mind Hank. Don’t mind him at all.]

I mean, did you just pick up a single outfit, or...?

[instabilitatem]

I also picked up a sweatshirt and jeans.

[Connor smiles brightly. He can do a fashion show, if Hank so requests.]

walk walk fashion

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Can’t just say that, Connor. [A little grumbly: mostly joking.] Are you gonna show me, or what?

fashion show at lunch!

[instabilitatem]

[Connor smiles and nods before ducking back into his room. In a few minutes, he emerges in a plain blue sweatshirt, a pair of lightly-colored jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He would fit in well in any college dorm.]

What do you think?

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

[Hank has to sit down on the couch when Connor goes to change. Or — he doesn’t have to, but god is it easier on his nerves. Connor seems happy to show his clothes off, but...? Hank can’t help but feel a little greedy.

Whatever. Connor’s coming back out so Hank stands up, hand on his chin. Appraising.]

Well, look at you, Con. I like the — [everything? How does he say that without sounding weird?] — the whole ensemble you’ve got going there.

[Yeah, that works.]

[instabilitatem]

[Connor looks down at himself and then back up at Hank at the use of the word 'ensemble.']

I like the sneakers most.

[Very different from his 'work' shoes.]

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

They look nice on you.

[Hank steps back to get a good look. Arms crossed as he nods.]

They comfortable, and all that?

[instabilitatem]

Very comfortable.

[Connor bobs on his feet, smiling over at Hank.]

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Seem pretty happy there, Con.

[Which is what Hank has wanted: Connor safe and happy and thriving. As much as he can here, anyway.

Hank wonders about the whole friendship angle — has he been making friends? Getting along with people? — but Connor seems goddamn elated.

And Hank doesn’t want to fuck that up.]

Glad to see you’re working through that list of yours.

[What else was on it? Something about sheets?]

You pick up any bedsheets while you were out getting new clothes?

[instabilitatem]

[The wild thing is that Connor is really happy, which is something he never even contemplated before deviating. It wasn't something that crossed his mind as a possibility. Now that he is deeply happy? He never wants to let this feeling go.

At the question of bedsheets, Connor nods, albeit sheepishly.] I did. But I had to study your bed to see how they fit.

[Connor went into your room, big guy.]

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

You had to study my bed?

[The thought of Connor going all Investigation Mode on his bed is both hilarious and a little horrifying, considering — well. Hank hasn’t had time to really fuck up this new apartment, nor the last, but still. He puts the fitted sheets on, sure, but the blankets are always a tangled mess. And socks: socks get lost in those blankets. Devoured. There are maybe half a dozen empty beer bottles stashed beneath the bed, too. Not that he’s trying to hide them, exactly.]

Shit, I hope you didn’t take too much inspiration from my room.

[instabilitatem]

I made sure to add the half dozen socks between the top sheet and the fitted sheet.

[He's not sure how that helps with sleep, but Connor also... doesn't sleep. He's just trying to at least look the part of human.]

I didn't think the beer bottles were required.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

The socks aren’t... aren’t necessary, Connor. Unless you like socks, I guess.

[A little weird, but no shame!!]

Sometimes I just lay down in bed and I’ll get all wrapped up in my blankets, and the socks just come off.

[It would help if Hank made his bed, but he doesn’t. Won’t.

Hank isn’t surprised that Connor found the beer bottles, but it’s still a little embarrassing. He rubs the tip of his nose, looking away.

Focusing back on the socks:] You use your socks or mine for your little project?

[instabilitatem]

Your socks. [Connor looks down at his sneakered feet.] I don't wear socks.

I can return them if you want.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

My socks.

[Hank has to blink at that.]

They were at least clean, right?

[instabilitatem]

I assume so. [Maybe? Maybe not? Connor is not a domestic model, he's still learning this stuff.]