Talk Dirty

The light streaming in through the window dances over my face and wakes me. Throwing my pillow at it does little to no effect, other than now I’m lying on a cold spot in my sheets. My body still aches when I reluctantly get up, my joints pop and my back locks, I feel older than Edgar. Giving up on finding my left slipper I walk out of my room with only one.

Shuffling down the hall I hear a crash, raised voices and the slamming of a door head of me. Cas walks out of Jacobs room stark naked, a look of frustration on his face. He needs to stop trying to impress Patricia.

“Well fuck off then, you know your resistance is futile. This body can’t be denied for long, you’re a couple of prudes.” He looks over at me and slaps his left cheek, “you agree right?”

“This isn’t for you, it happens every morning and I can’t stop it till I have a piss,” I say pretending to hide the morning glory.

“I was about to go down stairs and make some fine Louisiana coffee, you in?”

“Sure, after you.”

Cas pounds on Jacob’s door and yells, “Hear that, some people can’t stop staring at my ass!”

“Come on Flabby cheeks, leave the love birds alone.” I grab his arm and guide him away from the door.

“They can’t handle this, that’s all.”

“I’m sure that’s it sweetheart, you’re very pretty.”

The spiral staircase creeks as we walk down the third floor of the library. The glass dome above us sends ripples of light on to the fantasy section shelves and down to the main landing. Cas pulls the ‘how to build a shelf’ book to open the secret door to the kitchen.  Teller and Andy are already there eating leftover Ham, the fire pit in the middle of the breakfast table is already lit and keeping the room nice and toasty.

“Cas, did we forget anything?” Teller asks, raising an eyebrow and lowering her gaze.

“Damn I forgot my Batman slippers.” He sits next to her and pulls the ham towards him. “whose idea was it to bake six of these? I’m not complaining I just want to kiss them.”

Andy, still feeling the effects of challenging me and Edgar with a drinking contest, stares into his coffee. “I hate you all for making me drink so damn much. I can still taste the Bourbon, the Scotch, the Whisky, the… I’m going to be sick.”

“No one forced you sweetie.” Teller says.

“I did, brought out the funnel, too.” Cas chimes.

“Yes, old Martha did make a grand comeback.” I can’t help but laugh.

Opening the ‘stuff’ drawer I take out a tin of cigarettes and light up, hand one to Cas and another to Andy. Teller politely refuses but goes to the fridge and pops open a light beer, we all just sit there enjoying the fire and the company. An explosion from upstairs interrupts our family time.

“Sounds like Allan is up, I’ll go tell them breakfast is ready.” Teller stands back up and leaves the room.

“So Andy my boy, what’s the deal with you and little miss goddamn with a side of mmmmhmm?” Cas asks in a cloud of smoke.

“Let’s just say I haven’t dipped my brush.”

“Hey man if you don’t pop that seal someone else will.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve gotten close to finger painting.”

“Proper painting puns? Childish, chauvinistic chatter between chums I say.” My cigarette goes out.

“I love it when you talk dirty, Solace.” Cas says though a mouthful of ham.