Okay, lots of swearing here, fair warning.
...
You've been warned.
This short one's Mike Nemsith and myself, a ship that my friends sail endlessly. But who's complaining? I love Mr. Wool Hat!
"Oh fuck, oh FUCK!" Mike held his nose, red liquid leaking out between his fingers.
"Shit, are you bleeding?!" I asked, knowing the answer, "Oh shit! I'm so sorry, Mike!"
He waved a hand, passing it off as nothing. We both knew that it was definitely not nothing, and that the pain was, well… painful.
It had started out with the typical morning. I woke up first, but only by a fraction. As soon as I began to lift my arm off of his chest, the way we had fallen asleep, his eyes opened and turned towards me.
No words were needed, just smiles and glances at each other. We got dressed for the day, knowing company was supposed to be over later, and I went down to the kitchen to stare at the food and decide what we wanted to eat. Mike covered the bed with the blankets, making it look halfway presentable, and slipped down to the kitchen as well. I didn't notice his presence, not at first.
Not until I tugged a frying pan out from under the tower of pots and pans we kept in the cupboard. Once it was finally free, the effort I had been using to pull continued just a bit too long, and the frying pan was pulled through the air behind me. Unfortunately, it wasn't the only thing behind me.
Mike had situated himself to prepare to hug me from behind, but hadn't even reached out for the hug when a frying pan smacked him straight in the face, knocking his wool hat off his head.
Now, standing there, he refused to acknowledge that I was in the wrong. He held his nose, strong and silent, and tried to grin at me through the pain. "Don't worry about it, love," he said, "I needed a good smack with a frying pan, anyway."
"You dork," I replied. I grabbed him a towel for his nose, then added, "I love you."
He tipped his head back, covering his nose with the towel, speech becoming difficult with blood coming out his nose. "I lub you, too."