It was then that he swore that he could hear someone sneaking around. It was his imagination, had to be. Why would anyone else be up this late?...
He clamped his eyes shut in frustration. It shouldn't have been a surprise that he couldn't sleep; he had never been able to get a good night's rest on the road. It was fucking awful rolling around all night, quire of snoring angels in the bunks below. And he was so close to being positive that Slash was the loudest...maybe he'd sneak a Breath-Rite strip on him before he finally crashed the next night, maybe that could help him sleep.
Who the fuck was he kidding? He was never one to sneak into someone's bunk after they had fallen asleep...thoughts of how they might be having a nightmare and try to strangle him always ran rampant in his mind when he thought of things like that. Of course, he only thought like that when he was fighting to fall asleep, never when he was in his proper mind. If only he could fucking sleep...
It was then that he swore that he could hear someone sneaking around. It was his imagination, had to be. Why would anyone else be up this late?
'Cause they can't sleep, dumb-fuck, he thought. An almost undetectable smirk found its way onto his lips, dismissing the thought completely. But as he stared forward at the curtain, he could swear that he still heard something, and it brought his curiosity to a peek.
Totally forgetting his want, and his body's need for sleep, he freed one hand from the blankets he had wrapped himself in, reaching forward, and in a single, fluid motion, pulled the curtain back and peeking his head out, hoping one glimpse would satisfy him.
But of course, it didn't help at all, only making him want to hop out of bed and look around. Instead of being able to see who was up and wandering around, all he could see was the faintest glimmer of light, the sound of rustling meeting his ears.
He could almost feel his legs throwing themselves over the edge of the bed, just to make a quick observation. With how he was acting, you'd think he was some little kid thinking his house was haunted and wanting to stake out for the ghosts. But he quickly yanked the curtain back shut, not caring about making noise this time. The blankets returned to where they had been, and he clenched his eyes shut, insisting to himself that he needed sleep.
It was only a few moments before his eyes darted open again. He gripped the blankets tight, resisting the insane urge to pull the curtain back, just get one last look. Fuck, what got him so curious all of a sudden? Maybe..., he thought, maybe I'm just looking for a reason to avoid sleep...
Sounded like something a shrink would tell him. With a sigh, he rolled onto his back, once again staring up at the ceiling. Fucking dÃ©jÃ vu, it was. Same, boring tan ceiling, staring up at it exactly like he had been before. He clenched his eyes shut, yet again, focusing on the most obscure point that he could, but it only ended up making his eyes hurt.
The sandpapery feel of his teeth gnashing together in frustration made his skin crawl, but it was hard not to. There was nothing to keep his mind occupied, nothing except the mysterious rattling he kept hearing...
And of course, just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard it again.
"That's it..." he murmured, almost able to see his curiosity taking a victory bow. No more wondering who was up, what they were doing so late at night.
Once again, he reached forward, inching the curtain along, trying to make as little noise as possible. Slowly, he stuck a leg out, then the other, lowering himself carefully. He could feel the very tips of his toes touching the carpet, and with little hesitation, he found his footing, stumbling around in the dark for a brief second to do so.
When on the floor, he glanced around. He could see the light along the carpet, but he couldn't see where it was coming from, exactly. But when he imagined the layout of the cramped bus, he slowly realized...
"The fridge...?" he whispered to himself as he tiptoed across the floor, silent as a mouse. When he stopped, the site in front of him was indeed one to behold. Duff, in nothing but his boxers and tattoos, rifling around through the fridge, a carton of the Chinese they had picked up before hitting the road again in his hand.
Really, he couldn't help but grin. Duff was only a few feet in front of him, and he was so focused on his kitchen-raid that he had yet to notice his presence. He took a few more steps, trying to muffle his footfalls, until he paused directly behind the blonde, looking down at him.
An amused little smile grew on Scott's face as he watched Duff jump in surprise, but it turned to a wince an instant later as he hit his head on the top of the fridge's doorframe with a dull thud.
"Ummm...you okay, Duff?" he asked, looking just a little guilty. He watched as the blonde began to turn his head, then twist around completely. He was unable to do anything but smile warmly when he saw the almost guilty, hand-in-the-cookie jar look that was plastered on Duff's face, the few noodles that hung out of his mouth only adding to the unimaginably sweet look.
He sucked them into his mouth, the slurping sound penetrating that of the bus's rumbling. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's getting better..."
"Sorry for startling you," Scott said, trying his hardest to wipe the grin from his face to add sincerity. Slowly, he sat down next to Duff, watching as his eyes followed him do so.
Goosebumps arose on Scott's skin as the cool air poured from the refrigerator He looked up at the shelves and rubbed his arm lightly, causing them to subside. Once again, his eyes fell on Duff, another warm smile growing on his lips as he watched him stuff another forkful of noodles into his mouth. There was something oddly endearing about watching Duff eat, something that made Scott yearn to give him a big hug. Maybe it was how childish he seemed to get, even with the bad boy looks. He didn't really care, though; he was simply glad that it was there.
"So...whatcha eating?" Scott asked, watching him take another bite. Duff swallowed, blinking, looking like he had no idea. Their eyes stayed focused on each other for a moment, until Scott glanced between the blonde and his food, finally leaning forward and taking a whiff of it.
"Duff..." he started, glancing up. Duff quietly sucked a stray noodle that had been hanging on his lips into his mouth, keeping up a faÃ§ade of innocence. "Hey, this is mine..."
"Oh, is it? Yeah...I guess it is," Duff mumbled, his innocence fading.
Scott looked up at him, trying to give him a stern look as he gazed into those shiny, puppy eyes he was making. He wasn't mad, anyway, but it was worth pretending he was just to see those eyes.
"I was kinda gonna eat this, you know..." Scott said, keeping his voice low as he plucked a noodle from the bottom of the container, popping it into his mouth a moment later. His mind got fuzzy for just a moment; oh, how he loved the taste of cold Chinese...but he had to snap himself back into reality. There were more important tasks at hand.
"Why couldn't you have just eaten Slash's food? He would've let you..." Scott murmured, trying his best to force a pout. He bit back sweet giggles when he saw the cringe of absolute disgust that appeared on Duff's face as he said it.
"Aww, man, you saw that stuff. That shit was nasty," Duff answered quickly, wringing his hands. It was funny to see him like this, trying his best to try and justify why he had eaten Slash's food. He was lovable, really, thinking that Scott was actually pissed; it wasn't that he was gullible, more like concerned at keeping people around him happy.
But Scott felt like dragging it on just a bit longer. "Oh, c'mon, Duff. It couldn't have been that bad," he assured him, pressing his lips together before Duff spoke.
"Dude, it looked fucking angry. Go 'head, see for yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you," he continued. He was so convincing, he could've convinced anyone that the Chinese in fact had sprouted legs and was stalking the bus, waiting for its next victim.
It was at that point that Scott broke out in quiet little giggles. He simply couldn't take it anymore. Using his hand, he stifled laughter as best he could, but he simply couldn't help but laugh when he saw Duff blink in confusion, brunette eyebrows rising.
"What're you laughing at? I'm serious, that shit is vicious!" Duff pressed on, a grin appearing on his own face.
Scott grinned right back. "I wonder if that's what's making him snore so loud..." he mused.
"Nah, he's always like that," Duff said quickly, reaching over, fork in hand, scraping nearly the last of the noodles from the sides of the carton and stuffing it into his mouth.
"Hey..." Scott said slowly, almost sounding whiny, "When did I say you could have that?"
Duff blinked at him, managing to uphold his innocence once again. "Uhm...you didn't. But I just kinda thought you wouldn't want it."
"Oh," Scott said, examining the nearly empty carton, forcing a frown onto his face, hoping to draw out those eyes once again. "But I still never--"
Scott cut himself off when he felt something sticky and cold hit his face. He paused, almost afraid to see what it was, until he reached up an pulled one of the noodles from his cheek. He glanced back up to see Duff, choking back giggles.
"Duff!" he exclaimed in a whisper, trying to stay serious as he threw it back, all the while wishing he had better aim.
"Dude," Duff's shoulder shaking with laughter, "Your aims sucks!"
Scott couldn't help it when the slightest of tints arose on his cheeks, "Well..." Scott sputtered, trailing off when he couldn't think of an acceptable comeback. He stayed silent for a moment, grinning like a fiend as he let Duff have his laughs.
"I'm gonna be all sticky now..." Scott murmured to himself, wiping at his cheek. He could feel whatever it was in that sauce getting sticky, and no matter how hard he scrubbed at it, it wouldn't come off.
"Aw, dude, quit it," Duff said quickly, pulling Scott's hand away by the wrist, "You got a big red mark on the side of your face now."
Scott blinked, almost like a little child. "It'll go away. The sticky shit, I don't think that will, though." Duff didn't answer this time; he simply started looking around, though for what, Scott had no idea. He could practically see the gears turning in Duff's mind. What sort of age-old parental trick was he going to pull from his sleeve?
"Uhm, sit still," Duff said, his shiny green eyes continuing to flicker through the darkness like little fireflies. Scott shifted, as if to defy what Duff had said, smirking to himself. "Aw, y'know what?" Duff trailed on, fixing his gaze on Scott once again. "Fuck it."
Scott blinked rapidly, like a little child trying to figure something out. He let himself get pulled forward as Duff set his hands on his shoulder, going limp like a rag doll. He wasn't exactly sure what happened next; well, he was, but he wasn't exactly sure if he'd allowed it or not.
Helpless, Scott watched as Duff lurched forward, looking like he was to place a big sloppy kiss on his cheek. But he didn't; oh, no, he seriously upped the ante. Instead of the big, sloppy kiss he expected, Scott instead got a surprise puppy-like lick across where the sauce had come to rest on his face. As Duff pulled back, he grabbed Scott by his chin like he was a little child, drawing him ever closer, rubbing the heel of his hand across the sticky spot.
"There. No more sticky mark," Duff said as he removed his hands, a proud, fatherly little smile on his face.
"Yeah..." Scott replied softly, inspecting his chin that had been so rudely grabbed, "But now I'm gonna have a big red mark on my face."
Duff blinked. He examined Scott's face for a moment, then looked deep in thought for the entire span of a millisecond. "Quite whining, would you? You're the one who was complaining about being sticky."
It was Scott's turn to blink. He eyed the bassist, then tried his hardest to muster of a pout of his own, a pout that paled in comparison to one that Duff could create. "Yeah, but that hurt..." he mumbled pathetically.
The smallest of frowns appeared on Duff's face. "Um..." he said, trailing off before catching his train of thought once again. "You want me to...y'know...like, kiss it and make it better?"
For a short moment, Scott thought his ears were deceiving him. But when he saw the look on Duff's face, he knew what he'd heard was correct, and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. "Yeah...I think that'd be a good way to make up for it," he said, grinning like an asylum escapee.
Duff grinned right back at him, slowly leaning forward, pressing his lips to the spot on his face that'd he'd rubbed raw. "That any better?" he mumbled quietly, lips brushing against his skin as he spoke.
Scott opened his lips to respond, when he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps in the distance, followed by a loud, monstrous yawn that seemed to grow closer. The two of them looked up in unison, seeing Slash standing a few feet away, looking more like a tangled mass of black curls with legs then anything else. They blinked, wondering if he could even see through his own hair.
He walked over without a word, looming over them as he rummaged through the refrigerator. "Hey, guys...?" he mumbled sleepily, "You didn't eat my food, did you?..."