"Wait."

Mildly irritated, Isaac stops in his tracks. "Again? The food's going to go bad."

"Just... Hold on for a bit."

"Garet, it's getting late. We have to get back to the cabin as soon as possible and divvy up the supplies. In case you don't recall, Patcher's Place isn't that close to-"

"Quit nagging. This is all your fault anyway."

"Excuse me?"

"Really hard to walk like this, you know," Garet grumbles miserably, leaning heavily against a nearby tree. One of the straps to his pack had torn several minutes before, but with the way Isaac's practically sprint-hiking, that leaves him no time to actually try to patch it up.

"I'm sorry that I went... a little overboard," Isaac says. He shifts slightly and takes a seat next to him. "But you were just asking for it that time."

Garet stares at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. You brought it upon yourself."

"What? So you're saying it was my fault?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Then what the hell are you trying to say?"

Isaac sighs. "What I'm trying to say is that I didn't appreciate you spouting all of that nonsense so loudly that practically everyone in the building heard."

"Blame the alcohol the for that," Garet mumbles.

"Right." Isaac rolls his eyes as he pulls Garet back to his feet, supporting his weight as they both start walking again. Upon hearing Garet fail to stifle a grunt, he stops yet again to look at him in concern. "Garet?"

"What?"

"Does it really hurt that badly? Do you need me to heal you again?" he prods.

"What? No. No, no, no. It's just, it feels... weird to trek all the way since... uh... you know."

"Elaborate."

"...You know."

"Garet."

"Fine," Garet huffs, shuffling forward. "I've never walked this much right after a brutal assfucking."

Isaac flushes as he jogs to catch up to him.

"For hours."

"Well, you never hear me complaining when you top."

"Because I don't strap you down."

"That's-"

"And I don't make you beg while I come three times before your first."

Isaac covers his face with his hand to hide his reddening cheeks.. "Alright, okay. I... I may have gotten too into it, but..."

"But what?"

"You were seriously asking for it. Honestly, you made it sound as if I had erectile dysfunction."

Not missing a beat, Garet replies, "You do, though. Ow!" Scowling, he rubs the back of his head.

"You definitely deserved that."

"Now why would you say that?"

"Hm," Isaac strokes his beard in mock-recollection, glowing slightly. Then a flower randomly blooms on his shoulder at the same time that he makes an overly dramatic "A-ha!" Garet plucks it off by the stem and flings it in the blond's mouth. Isaac sputters incoherently and spits it out. "Garet, that could've been poisonous."

"Tch, you're the one who used up your psynergy over that."

"Just trying to liven up the mood..."

Garet notices the change in his tone and mutters a half-hearted apology. "Come on." He pushes onward as Isaac supports his weight. He knows that Isaac's about to complain, so he quickly adds, "I just want to go back home and sleep in our room tonight."

Isaac blinks. "'Our'?"

"...I didn't mean it like that."

Isaac laughs. "Of course, you didn't."

He ignores Garet's griping for the rest of the trip.

* * * * *

"Garet."

Something's poking him.

"Garet." Poke.

"Nnn." His head's pounding.

"Garet." Poke.

"Go 'way." It's getting annoying. He doesn't feel like dealing with anything right now except for that headache.

"Garet." It's poking at his foot now.

Garet growls and knocks the offending thing away by driving his foot into it, savoring the indignant squawk accompanied by a loud thud, as he pulls the covers tightly around his body. The following peace only lasts for a few minutes before he thinks he's drowning. Tangled in the covers, he flops around wildly on the now-wet bed.

"Are you awake yet?" Sarcasm.

Garet pokes his head out of his makeshift cocoon and squints at the blur in front of him. He scowls and tries to maturely give it the finger, which tangles him up in the covers even more.

"Good to see that you're back in the world of the living," Isaac deadpans and scans his body. Idly dodging a pillow, he comments, "Just boxers?" He places two cups on the floor and assists Garet with peeling off the wet material from his body, earning a thankful but still irritated grunt from him.

"Thanks." From his vantage point, Garet finally gets a good view of the blond: he's in his usual getup only without the jacket, baldric, gloves, and scarf. Or is it an ascot? He'd have to ask him later. There's also a nasty-looking footprint on his face. He asks, "Why'd you wake me up so early?" before clutching at his throbbing head.

Isaac's immediately at his side with one of the cups. He offers it to him as he rubs his back. "Drink this." It's... pasty orange juice?... with chocolate powder?

Garet looks at him in askance.

"It'll help with your hangover. Just swallow it all in one-" He pauses and looks at just how much was in the cup. "Swallow as much as you can in deep gulps."

It takes several attempts for him to ingest everything, and by the time he's finished, Garet's gasping for dear life and cursing the hell out of Isaac. "What... What the fuck... Isaac... What?"

"Prairie oysters," he says. "I've read that those help with alleviating hangovers." He pauses again. "However, I think seven eggyolks are actually a bit too much now."

"You think?""

"Shh." Isaac's rubbing his back again, and Garet can't help but lean against him. "Just let it go through your system."

Garet hums wordlessly as Isaac continues his ministrations. Frankly, he's enjoying being pampered. It makes him feel special. Like he... He shakes his head internally. Leaning forward, he coughs loudly as his body tries to expel the excess spices in his throat, and Isaac comes to his rescue yet again with that second cup which is partially filled with water. Garet practically inhales it before asking, "Seven? Really?"

"Seven mugs of beer."

Garet hums yet again in response. He shivers slightly because of the water cooling on his body, to which Isaac drapes a jacket over his body. Technically, it's Isaac's jacket. The denim's unmistakable. He blinks. Why was he letting him use his?

"Sorry, I couldn't find yours and the towels are still drying," Isaac clarifies before Garet returns the cup to him. "Do you need to lie down?"

"No." Garet wraps the jacket tighter around body, pulling the lapels up slightly both to warm himself up and take a deep whiff of it. It's nice. Comforting. And it simply smells like Isaac. Garet hopes that he doesn't notice, but if he does, he doesn't say anything. "What time is it?"

"Roughly past noon."

"...Oh. Where are the boys?"

"They should be off sparring with each other across the bridge." Isaac nods to himself as if to verify his comment. "Tyrell said you were supposed to be training them right now, but I told them that you were feeling a bit under the weather today." Without warning, he places his palm on Garet's forehead.

"So, I guess that means... Because I'm sick, I get the day off, huh, mommy?" Garet grins hopefully.

Isaac rolls his eyes. "'Being sick' doesn't necessarily come to mind when I think of someone of your size. If anything, a big lug like you should be up and about within a few hours unless the illness is practically killing you."

"That's not a very nice thing to say to someone who's dying, you know."

"Don't twist my words. I never said that you were dying, and hangovers shouldn't be able to do that. Besides, I have another cure in mind, so you should hopefully be getting better soon."

"But I like it when you act like my nanny," Garet wheedles.

"You just like to act like a child."

"You don't mean little ol' me, do you?"

Isaac raises an eyebrow.

Garet's startled when something warm presses against the thin material of boxers and firmly grasps his cock. His erect cock. Goddamned morning wood. He didn't even notice that because of the damned headache. Before Garet has a chance to recoil or even yelp, Isaac's mouth is on his.

Isaac's kissing him roughly as he pushes him down against his bed. Pulling back, Isaac eases Garet's boxers down by the front and wraps his fingers around his cock. He idles for a bit, fingers flexing and unflexing against the sensitive skin before his other hand joins in, gently stroking the glans. "'Little?' Right, I think you're just shortchanging yourself," he says before diving back down, pressing hot kisses against his neck, his shoulders, his chest, suckling hard enough to make Garet squirm.

"Wait, Isaac." Garet shudders. "The boys might-"

"They'll be back in at least two hours. That should be more than enough time for one round, maybe even two," Isaac murmurs before kissing him again. "Unlike you, I know when to lock the door."

"You're-" Garet's breath hitches when Isaac's grip on his cock tightens. "You're still going on about that?"

The strokes become more pronounced, more deliberate, and Garet instinctively bucks his hips when Isaac fists his cock in earnest. There's a short pause when Isaac decides to let go and yank the boxers down to mid-thigh, which Garet appreciates if the fact that he immediately raises his hips off of the mattress is any indication.

Unfortunately, there's a sudden lack of activity for the next few seconds. Isaac's no longer jerking him off, and Garet growls before deciding to take matters into his own hands, fingers clamoring to his throbbing dick. His plan goes awry when he feels something warm and wet sliding against his balls, and it takes him a few moments to realize that it's Isaac's tongue before moaning. Isaac assumes that he's doing a good job and brings his lips to Garet's cock, slurping messily, clumsily, around the head.

"...Fuck, Isaac..."

Isaac hums against his heated skin as his hands busy themselves, one of them kneading Garet's balls and the other pressing against his thigh, spreading his legs wider, and Garet starts thrusting enthusiastically. Within moments, Garet's hands find themselves in his hair, tugging insistently not enough to hurt but to coax him to stop playing around, so Isaac obliges to his unspoken request and takes as much of him inside. What he can't fit into his mouth, he stops playing with Garet's balls and jerks at the base of the cock before sucking hard. He hears Garet approve rather vocally and chuckles, the vibrations sending Garet into a frenzy before something finally snaps and then he's just gone. Garet's fingers yank at Isaac's hair almost painfully as he comes hard, gasping out Isaac's name, trying to buck even deeper into his mouth.

Garet tries to come up with a witty retort if that was supposed to be that magical remedy Isaac was referring to, but all that comes out is a muffled groan because Isaac's mouth is back on his, chest to chest, and he ends up tasting himself when Isaac's tongue forces itself inside, skillfully pressing against his. His fingers slide from Isaac's hair before his hands fall back to his sides as what's left of his mind turns to putty. Isaac has his ways to easily put him into such a state, damn him. Luckily, he has enough bearings left to comment when Isaac pulls back to finally breathe. "...So. New hangover treatment, eh?"

"Did it work?" Isaac asks. He licks off the semen on his upper lip in such a manner that Garet thinks he's getting hard again.

Garet starts a bit when Isaac lazily jerks him off. Oh, so he wants to play some more. "I don't know." He grins cheekily. "My head still kind of hurts. Maybe you should give me another dose."

"I see," he says, disheartened. "Unfortunately, I'll have to decline for the moment."

At that, Garet looks at him quizzically.

"As your personal apothecary, I require donations for my services. Priesthood rules and whatnot." There's an edge in his tone as Isaac straddles him. Perching himself on Garet's chest, legs spread, knees pressing against the knots on his shoulders, he continues, "However, once I'm paid, we'll discuss other fees."

Garet guffaws loudly. His hands fly up to firmly grasp Isaac's buttocks, and he nuzzles against his erection, watching the blond lick his lips. Garet opens his mouth to frame his teeth along the turgid length of Isaac's cock through his pants and murmurs, "Well, then. Your money's right here."

In reply, Isaac starts unbuckling his belt.