Solo had it in him to smile, nodding along to the other man’s words. It kept replaying in his head— how terribly odd this was. He had never had the time to actually talk— well, listen— to Phantom. It was kind of nice, and Padlock had no trouble admitting it.
He kept his eyes wandering around, numb to the expenses of the houses. Sure, he knew some things about the outside world, but he did spend the majority of his time under the city, on the computers, or in certain specific office buildings looking for something on a lead. Unfortunately, it had been a long time since he got a good one of those. This last one had led him absolutely nowhere, his mind ticking back to annoyance for a moment before Phantom’s words yanked him back to the present, just in time to hear the last words.
“Oh, yeah, that’s fine,” he replied, uncrossing his arms and stuffing his free hand in his jacket pocket. He hadn’t grabbed a shirt from the maintenance room, unfortunately. He had been too occupied with the man beside him. And… it would probably continue to be that way.
Still, despite Phantom’s promises, Solo kept his head on a swivel, readying himself for any potential threat. What if Phantom had contacted the cops about his hideout? Couldn’t have happened— he hadn’t seen Phantom with a phone. Or what if he did it while Pad was on the ladder? Maybe, but he seemed honest.
Guess it was all a gamble.
Plus, Phantom hadn’t seen anything of value. That had still been further down. Maybe he wouldn’t think anything of it.
He hoped, at least.
A few sirens sounded in the distance but there weren't any police in the immediate area. Val hadn't even thought to call the cops, too busy with Padlock to think about much else. There was some fumbling once they reached the door—he still couldn't quite remember which keys went to what—but soon they were inside the building and heading up the stairs. It was a short walk, then a few turns, and then they were settled in front of a small white door as Val worked his way through the key ring again.
His apartment looked like something out of a better homes and gardens magazine, all white and beige and almost completely undisturbed. Only a few personal touches could be seen—a scented candle here, a bright blue throw pillow there—the rest was eerily pristine. He ushered Padlock onto the vast white couch with a smile. "Just wait there for one second, and I'll be right back! And… try not to spot blood on the couch, it's easier to hide it it's on the rug." He patted Padlock on the shoulder and then disappeared into one of the two white doors, which presumably led to the bathroom.
There were a few banging noises, then a muffled curse, and then a slightly more disheveled Valentine came out holding a first aid kit with banged up corners. The smile on his face was too big for the small achievement, but he couldn't help being excited. "Got it! Now gimme your hands, I'm gonna fix you right up."
Solo did as he was told, perhaps taking too many precautions as he took of his jacket and held it around his hands, cradling it in his lap. He wasn’t exactly comfortable being so exposed, but it was the least he could do. After all, he was decently considerate. Not enough to scare someone half to death by jumping off a building, just considerate enough not to get blood on their couch.
Hmm, the day just got weirder and weirder, didn’t it? Though it was nothing Solo wasn’t used to. For all he knew, this was borderline normal.
He looked back when Phantom reappeared, his eyes following the man around. The sirens in the distance before had snapped him back to being on his guard. The thing worrying him now was the fact that he had no backup at all if Phantom was to go all ‘invisible mode.’ The infrared visor was long gone.
He turned to the man, carefully trying to unwrap his own hands to little avail. He finally gave up, just holding them out so Phantom could do it.
Solo really didn’t like getting help from people. But, he was also one to admit when he actually needed help. Although before, he physically couldn’t. He had no acquaintances.
He guessed this was one of those times he’d let himself be helped. And one of those times he’d actually let himself have an acquaintance.
Valentine gave him a soft smile, wrinkling his nose a little as he noticed Padlock's current state of undress. One of the throw blankets was close so he grabbed it and draped it across the villain's shoulders with a playful sigh. "You don't have to walk around my house all shirtless, you know. I like you for your mind, not your body, and anyways seeing your face is more than enough. You're gonna spoil me, and I'm already high maintenance enough as it is."
He pulled one of Padlock's hands out a little further as he spoke, carefully unwrapping the bandages and setting them in a heap on the coffee table. "How high is your pain tolerance?" They needed to be cleaned off. Badly. But he didn't want to hurt him any more than he had to. "cause I've got some antiseptic wipes but they hurt like a fucking bitch and I really don't wanna put you through that if it's gonna be too much." He'd cried the first time he used them, and even now he still got a little misty eyes if he had to clean off something bigger. "Also, tell me about what's wrong with the rest of your arms. Did you strain them jumping out the window, or was it something else?"
“Yeah, it was from jumping out the window,” he admitted, slightly self-conscious and not sure how to take the man’s first comment. He was just happy to have at least a blanket around himself now.
He then looked at the rest of himself, all scared, and raised an eyebrow to Phantom.
“I’d say my pain tolerance is decently high,” Pad muttered, shrugging. The action earned a small wince from him, but he tried his best to keep it concealed.
If his pain tolerance was anything but high, he would have given up a long time ago.
“Go crazy with whatever. I can… probably handle it,” he replied. Before Phantom could comment, he continued. “And I’m not saying that to seem all ‘macho.’ Just had to explain that before you start teasing me. My tolerance is surprisingly high.”
Val had the good grace to blush, grabbing a few tissues to mop up the worst of the blood before he got started. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You've been through more than I could possibly imagine, I'm not… I'm not gonna tease you for acting all macho, even though you totally are." The blood flow seemed to have stopped for the most part, but the wound was obviously still raw. He grabbed one of the wipes with a small frown, giving Padlock an apologetic look even though he was fairly sure he could take it.
"I'm sorry in advance, by the way. And I know you probably don't need that or anything, but I'm gonna give it to you anyways." The wipes were cool and slightly sticky and started to sting like a bitch after a few seconds. Val took his time too, careful to clean off every tiny scrape. Padlock's other hand got the same treatment and sure, it was thoroughly unpleasant, but at least he wouldn't get a weird sewer infection now. "Blow on them, I think that's supposed to help."
Padlock bit back multiple colorful curses, eyes locked on the ceiling as he braced himself. His jaw clenched and unclenched subconsciously, just trying to take his mind off of the fiery pain. His hands were relatively numb from it, but it shot up the lengths of his arms, sending flashes of heat throughout his entire body.
He tried to focus on Phantom’s words, trying desperately to get his attention elsewhere. He bounced his leg slightly, pursing his lips and grimacing.
When Phantom was done, Pad didn’t blow on them, just shook them slightly. The difference in the cool air helped moderately, but not by much. He was just relieved to be done with it.
“Th—Thanks,” he murmured, eyes still attuned to the ceiling. His hair now fell into his eyes, still slightl crusted over with the blood of his hands. He was a mess— he’d admit it— and these consequences weren’t even suffered for a success. His whole goal was to keep Phantom from seeing him. He’d pulled out all his stops, and still ended up here. Helmetless, shirtless, and… success-less.
Val bit his lip when he finally looked up again and saw the pain in Padlock's eyes. "I know, I know, that's why I said the I'm sorry ahead of time." He took one of Padlock's hands in his, fanning it gently since he didn't seemed very inclined to blow on it. "These things are the worst, but they really do get the job done. And you're holding it together so well too, I should be jealous. Bawled my eyes out first time I ever used 'em, so at least you know you're way tougher than I am."
He moved to fan the other hand, swapping between both of them for a few more minutes before he grabbed a clean pad of gauze and got to work bandaging them up. Every touch was soft and methodical. Before long Padlock's hands were swathed in clean white bandages and Val was leaning down to kiss each of them, a playful little smile on his face. "There! All good, I even kissed them better for you so they're sure to heal real quick. Now let's get to work on those arms, yeah?"
He was pulling Padlock's arm forward before he even got an answer, reaching up to push the blanket off his shoulder. "I'm guessing it's right here that's the worst." His fingers drifted back until they rested against the skin above the joint. They were cold, like they'd walked into the apartment after braving a snowstorm instead of a warm autumn day. "Am I right?"
Solo raised an eyebrow at each of Phantom’s action, even having the nerve to scoff at him kissing his hands. He felt like an absolute child, and he didn’t really care for it. Although he said nothing, keeping his eyes narrowed and his jaw set as he looked down from the roof to the man before him.
His heart beat slightly harder than it previously had been when Phantom trailed his hands along his shoulder.
“I’m not sure what you can do for them,” he mumbled, rolling it back. The joint seemed to grind on the other bone, rolling in an unusual position. Padlock sucked a sudden breath through his teeth, muttering a few curses before glancing back up to Phantom.
“It’s not like I’m going to let you sling both arms,” he began, closing his eyes for a long moment before flicking them back open again. “I can’t even move my hands, and I’m not about to let my arms go right along with them. Besides resting, I don’t know what else to do.”
"Obviously. I'm not stupid, you know." He felt around the joint for a few seconds, gently pushing at Padlock's shoulder until he hunched forward. It felt like he'd dislocated it in the fall, which was a huge relief until he realized he'd have to pop it back into place. He reached for the other shoulder, feeling around to see if he could feel the same injury. "Don't move for like… five seconds. I think you managed to dislocate both your shoulders, which is like… not the worst thing you could've done, but it's gonna feel that way for a little bit."
His other hand slid up, setting on the front of Padlock's shoulder. If he pushed at the right angle, it would pop the bone into the right place again. It took him some time to get it lined up right, and he gave Padlock a winning smile once he was sure he'd gotten his hands in the right spot. "I'd offer you a drink but I doubt it would help much, so just… try your best not to hate me in like three seconds, alright?" He shoved right as he finished talking and there was a loud popping sound that told him he'd gotten it in right. "Alright! There we go! Ready for the second one?"
Solo held his breath, letting out a short whimper as his shoulder popped back into place. Although it was more of a sharp yelp than anything else, his jaw still locked in place. He leaned back involuntarily, breathing heavy.
God, that hurt.
“Y-Yeah I’m ready for the second,” he gulped, breaths much heavier. He clenched his fists, trying not to irritate his hands more than they already had.
When was the last time he felt this beat-up? It seemed like it had been so long. Of course, the last time had been self-induced on purpose, to slip his chisel into his chest, but other than that, nothing.
The popping noise bugged him more than the actual pain. He had never been able to handle that well, his stomach churning as he heard it.
Still, he just braced himself for the second one, nodding. His head throbbed, aching profusely. Most of all, he was tired. Tired and confused. It wasn’t a great combination.
The thing that got him most was that he was in no condition to leave if Phantom actually called the cops. He had no outs, and he had no way of escaping by normal means. For now…
Well, for now he just had to trust the guy.
Val trailed his fingers over it gently, hoping the cold would sooth a bit of the ache before they could get something from the freezer and ice it for real. "You're so tough, just… try not to clench too hard, yeah?"
Figuring everything out was faster this time and like before he did his best to distract Padlock with some babbling before the sickly pop of his bone sliding back into the joint disturbed him. "There!" His fingers trailed over Padlock's shoulder, tracing small circles into his skin. "All done, and just look at you! You'll be back on your feet in no time, I'm sure of it."
It was a bit of a lie, Padlock looked like he was three seconds away from collapsing, but Val figured the encouragement would do him some good. He pushed the villain down until he was lying on the couch, getting him tucked in all cozy with a pillow under his head and a blanket around his body.
Smoothing down his hair may have been a tad too much, he'd admit it, but Padlock just looked so miserable. It was the least he could do to bring the guy a little comfort. "Hey, Pads, stay with me for just a second, okay? You can sleep as soon as we've got you taken care of, but that might take a little while 'cause I need to find the good pain meds so your arms won't bug you." He fiddled with Padlock's hair as he spoke, grimacing as the dried blood flaked off onto his fingers.
Padlock gave his best attempt at nodding, his mind going fuzzy from all the pain. His vision sort of followed suit, his eyes only able to make out a fraction of Phantom’s face.
Now, the only thing his head was filled with was how bad he wanted his arms off. Just— simply off of his body. Perhaps to come and pick back up later, but he wanted to ignore them for now. They ached like hell, the knotting pain reaching down to the depths of his chest even. He didn’t even know how he got to laying down on the couch, his eyes fluttering closed for a minute before he manually had to open them once more. The adrenaline was wearing off, and with that went his toughness, too.
He glanced up to Phantom, his eyes not seeming to lock on to anything well.
“If I were to go back in time and tell myself I’d end up here somehow, I would have killed future me right then and there, on accusation that he was an imposter,” he muttered, voice relatively raspy. He took a long while, calming his breathing before speaking again. “And now look where I’m at. Funny, huh.”
Padlock sort of leaned back into Phantom’s touch, squinting shut his eyes as he did so. He was so very tired, but knew he had to stay awake. He didn’t want to fall asleep and end up stuck in a cell. It would be much harder to get out of with his newly achieved handicaps.
Val managed a weak laugh, still smoothing his hair. "Hilarious. Just… Just stay awake for me, please." His voice was sharp with worry as he straightened up. "Please, I think I'm gonna panic if you just konk out on me. I'm gonna be right back." He took a step away. Two.
"I just… I need you to stay awake for a couple minutes, and I know that's a lot to ask but you've always been such an overachiever." His voice got louder as he made his way to the kitchen, thanking god that his apartment was open concept and he could still see glimpses of Padlock on the couch. "So just… just overachieve this for me, won't you? And when you wake up you can be as sleepy and surly as you need because… 'cause then I'll know you're okay and it won't be half as scary."
There were two bags of peas in his hands when he returned, swaddled in towels to keep them from getting too cold or too uncomfortable to lie on. "You can close your eyes, I'm gonna get these under your shoulders, okay?" He wrapped them halfway around Padlock's shoulders, carding through his hair soothingly as he finished. "Those should feel better in just a second. You're… you're not looking too good, I'm gonna be honest.
“Yeah, yeah,” Solo called casually to Phantom as the man walked away, as if this was just another walk in the park. “I’m awake, I’m awake. I’m fine, I’m fine. Yadda yadda..”
He crinkled his nose, looking down to the blanket covering him then back up to Phantom as he showed again with the bags. He tried the best he could to help himself up, just so it would be easier.
“You know for a fact I’m too stubborn to let myself fall asleep,” he said, words slurring, but only slightly— to the point where it wasn’t very noticeable. He let out a sigh, gritting his teeth as he felt the action sting his shoulders again. But, it would be fine. He’d grow used to it soon.
At the last comment, Paddy almost laughed, only stopped by the fact that it would probably hurt him.
“Phan, I’ve never looked good,” he said, a mocking smile on his face. “I have bones in my body that are probably still broken. This is nothing. I’ll be completely fine.”
Despite his almost closed-off words, it was sort of enjoyable to have someone there to care for you, or care about you, rather. Padlock had faced the majority of these alone, and it was actually nice to have someone there by his side. Even if that someone was the man who had been trying to keep you from achieving your goal, but Paddy decided to cease thinking about that now.
Even with the man’s words, Padlock kept his eyes open, flitting around the ceiling until they lowered, finally resting on Phantom. His vision was still sort of fuzzy, but it seemed the conversation was helping him cope. Maybe just slightly, but that was better than nothing.
Valentine rolled his eyes and couldn't help the smile the familiar teasing brought to his lips. Getting this worked up over someone else was new, but he found that he didn't mind it. It was like when his sisters got sick and he had to take care of them, always heating broth on the stove or jugging fever medications or changing ice packs until they managed to perk up again.
Padlock was nothing like his sisters, except for the fact that he was exceptionally tough. "Yeah, you've always been a stubborn ass." His hands ran through Padlock's hair over and over, slow and soothing. As much for Val as it was for Padlock because it was easier to focus when he kept his hands busy. Padlock needed his focus right now. Needed to be taken care of.
"Who're you even kidding, Pads? You're gorgeous. Even like this." A hand slid down, knuckles brushing gently over one of his cheeks. "Just look at that bone structure, huh? And those eyes." Fingers brushed across the circles beneath his eyes, gentle. Maybe it was good that Padlock was getting some sleep. It was supposed to help the healing process, right? Give your body time to patch itself up and all that junk. "You could be on a magazine cover or something. One of those broody bad boys, you've got the leather jacket and everything. I should introduce you to my agent some day, I bet he'd love you."
With that, Padlock let his eyes flutter closed, his contented smile still resting on his face. He blamed it on being half-delirious, but for now, he would just… let himself go a little bit. Relax. Calm down in just the slightest. He rolled his head over into Phantom’s hand, pressing into his touch.
“Thank you, but I’d rather not have my face plastered around town,” he said, mocking smile growing wider, even though it was all truth. There was no way in hell he would ever be famous, unless he seriously changed his style— maybe got a haircut and some eye color-changing contacts— and changed his name. There probably wasn’t a way he could ever be on a magazine cover without someone finding out who he really was. He was happy with everyone thinking he was dead. That was enough for him.
“No offense, of course. I’ll just leave all the fame and fortune to you, pretty boy. How does that sound?”
Even with his teasing words, his voice sounded tired. Though it did seem lighter than before, perhaps because now he was laying down and everything was patched up and he was finally feeling more… in one piece.
"Well I'd tend to agree with you, but unfortunately it turns out that selling your face to a company means you don't get much choice in the matter." He scooted closer to Padlock, rubbing his temples gently once his hair wasn't all matted with blood. There was something nice about comforting Padlock, and it wasn't just the way his compliments seemed to get more sincere. He seemed different somehow, less… well less Padlock, more whatever his real name was.
His hands slid down, pressing into Padlock's neck gently and kneading the muscles. He was all locked up back there, Val was surprised he didn't have a headache all the time. "Sounds good to me, but that's mostly 'cause I know you think I'm pretty now. For what it's worth, I think you're fantastically pretty too. And… well, don't get all grouchy on me for saying it, but I think you're pretty damn cute on top of that. Especially now that I actually know what you look like."
He really couldn't keep his eyes off Padlock's face. It was fun to watch all the little expressions flicker past, tired and then teasing and then something that looked suspiciously close to content. His fingers dug into a particularly tough knot, easing all the tension out of the overworked muscle. "You know, you should come over sometimes. It's so empty in here, it'd be nice to have a friend around. And I pinkie promise that I'll keep work stuff out of it, it'll be all Valentine, no Phantom."
Padlock kept his smile on his face, much more genuine now than sarcastic or the like. He liked it here. The couch was exceedingly comfier than his cot, and he was finally warm for once. Even with Phantom’s cooler hands running along his skin, it was… nice, to say the least.
He adjusted slightly, crossing his legs over the other and trying his best not to move his shoulders. He kept his eyes closed, but still kept his body tense, as if awaiting something. But wasn’t that how it always had been? Padlock had never stopped watching his back.
At the man’s words, Pad’s smile faltered, and he gave a fake frown.
“I don’t know,” he began, stretching out one of his legs. “I like Phantom. I’d have to meet this ‘Valentine’ guy for the first time. Frankly, I’m not much of a fan of first-impressions.”
He blinked his eyes back open slowly, just dully noticing Phantom’s eyes on him before he closed them again, taking another deep breath. He couldn’t stop his smile from coming back, the scars across the bridge of his face lifting with it. All of Phantom’s sweet-talk was funny to him. He had 1. Never been called anything remotely related to pretty and 2. Never been considered handsome by any stretch, probably due to the variety of scars.
Valentine laughed, stifled by worry but still bright and cheerful, and got his hands in Padlock's hair again. It needed a good wash, what with all the little flakes of blood still clinging to his scalp, but he didn't look bad anymore. Didn't look like a stiff wind would knock him unconcious. "Well I have been told that Phantom is reliably less of a bimbo, I can see why you'd prefer him, but I think you'll find that Valentine has his advantages too."
He cupped Padlock's face in his hands, smoothing across his cheekbones. "He's got a weakness for pretty boys, for one thing, so I don't think it'll be all that hard to have him bending over backwards for you." It was a lie, kind of. He was infamous for doing stupid things to get a date, but he didn't want that to be what he had with Padlock. He wanted something deeper, something real.
Because as pretty as he was, that wasn't what drew Val in. It couldn't be, because he'd been daydreaming about his "nemesis" before he was anything more than an asshole in a shaded helmet. "And anyways, it's pretty hard to get Phantom's attention these days, he's all broken up about some dipshit in a biker helmet." His thumb pressed against one of the scars and he traced the line of it down Padlock's face. "Where did you even get that helmet anyways? Since I'm buying you a new one and all."
“Oh, Phantom’s all occupied with a biker guy? Such a shame,” he mumbled, laughing slightly. The laugh then turned into more of a wince as he gritted his teeth, trying to move his shoulders as little as possible. “As for where I got the helmet? No clue. Found it on the side of the road one day, all beat up with scratches on the sides and whatnot. It used to be a neon blue, if you can believe it. I painted over it as a seal, and was gonna add some stickers before I realized that it was probably childish, and that I couldn’t really afford it. Then, it just stayed like that ever since.”
That had been about… seven years ago. Just before he started planning his fake death, and about two years after he had started his whole ‘government’ charade. Of course, it had gotten increasingly more dramatic since he was fourteen. He couldn’t even dream that one day he’d be one of those guys that seemed like he was from a comic book, let alone on the ‘evil’ side of things. In reality, Solo didn’t even think what he was doing was evil. In his eyes, it was actually the right thing to do. But he had seen enough movies to know that that wasn’t where his story ended up going. So, he had just accepted it.
“And Valentine? He seems like a nice guy,” he continued, his skin tingling and leaving a trace wherever Phantom trailed his fingers. “Maybe… maybe I will try to get to know him.”
His eyes opened for a moment, looking more taunting and playful than they had before.
“You think he’d like someone like me? Besides the… ‘pretty’ part.”
Valentine snickering was cut off by a sympathetic wince and he reached forward, rubbing Padlock's chest comfortingly. "No way, stickers are the coolest! I'll lend you some of mine some time, I've got a whole bunch. You'll… um… you'll probably see if we ever get you to the actual bed."
His room was kind of plastered with stickers. They were all over everything: the door frame, the bookshelf, the back of his desk chair. All of them had been put up in a fit of ecstatic decoration because he had a house, one he'd bought with his money from his job that he could do whatever he wanted with. It all seemed a bit stupid now, but he was used to feeling stupid. That was just what happened when you did stupid things on a near constant basis. For instance, falling for a villain. Definitely top five dumbest moments, if not the dumbest.
Not that he could really bring himself to regret it. He ran his hands up and down Padlock's chest for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth of him. The whole hero/villain thing wasn't something he put a lot of stock in. It was all so hokey, so cartoonish, and even he had managed to figure out that the division wasn't between good and evil, it was between pro and anti government. The only reason he went along with it was that the pay was good and it filled the time.
He laughed quietly at the question, torn away from his thoughts for the moment. "Oh yeah, he's gonna love you." His smile went a little soft and his face went a little flushed. For the first time his eyes flicked away from Padlock, dancing across the room. "I mean… who wouldn't? You're such a charmer, you'll have him wrapped around your little finger in no time, don't you worry about that. Now! Um! I said I'd get you some painkillers, didn't I?"
Solo laughed again, although this one seemed less pained, as if he finally figured out how to do it without impacting his arms at all. He closed his eyes again. Rolling his head back over and taking in a deep breath. His heart beat harder with every passing moment, his nerves locked on the tickling feeling across his chest.
“You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” he whispered with a smirk, words close to inaudible.
Not that he minded at all, really. If anything, Padlock enjoyed it… not like he’d ever say so, but he did.
“And yes, painkillers would be very nice. Either that or you let me sleep. It’s whichever comes first, for now,” he continued, arching his back to reposition himself. He tried to keep the majority of his weight across the top of his back, trying to steer clear of the shoulder blades, to little avail. The aching was more annoying than unbearable, and more uncomfortable than downright painful. He just wanted it… away. And preferably sooner rather than later.
But, with pain, he guessed that was always implied.
“You will let me sleep, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not like I lost a ton of blood, and it’s not like I have a concussion or anything. Now, I’m no doctor, but I should be able to do that at least, right?”
Padlock wasn’t sure why he was asking for permission. It seemed terribly unlike him to do. Though, as he saw it now, Phantom was the one in charge here, clearly knowing what was better for Solo than he did himself.
As for the whole ‘dreading to wake up in a jail cell, so I won’t sleep’ notion, Solo found himself not really caring anymore. If the situation presented itself, he’d deal with it then. After all, like they both had stated many times, it wasn’t hard for him to smart his way out of those situations. Two crippled arms would just make it all the more… ‘fun.’
They were close enough that Val could practically hear his heartbeat, so he caught the quiet question with a flush that left him rather pink in the cheeks. He didn't stop though. His hands still ran up and down Padlock's chest, mindful of the scars. "Just taking advantage of the situation. When else am I gonna get to be all over you? You're the one who pins me nine times out of ten anyways." Not that he minded.
It took him a few minutes to straighten up, reluctant to stop touching Padlock. Even once he was standing he leaned down, carding through his hair gently before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing and bustled off to the bathroom. Like before there were some shuffling sounds, and unlike before he emerged without dropping or knocking over anything. The little bottle of pills was pressed into Padlock's hand with much pride. "There! You can sleep as soon as you've got these down, just make sure you don't take too many. I'll go get you some water!"
He rushed off to the kitchen, returned with a glass, and then settled at the top of the couch where he'd been before. "After you wake up… you should stay for a little while. So I can keep an eye on you." Whatever Padlock did when he wasn't causing trouble in public was a mystery to Val, but the possibility that it might be dangerous had him nervous. Desperate to keep Padlock around for a little while longer. "I can cook and stuff! And… well, I won't be in most of the day anyways, so I won't be smothering you or anything. I just want to make sure you can be safe for a little while, 'cause I don't think you're gonna do your best villaining with two messed up arms."
“Yeah, I don’t have much faith in that either,” he replied, his head lolling to the side for a moment as he sighed. He then tried his best to prop himself up, just using his core to keep all of the strain off his shoulders. It didn’t work very well, considering he didn’t have a trained lower-body at all.
He then opened his eyes, the dark circles beneath them relatively prominent. He reached a hand up to grab the glass of water, then remembered literally everything about his arms. He gently took the pills from the bottle, popping them in his mouth before taking the glass of water in a very peculiar grip. He took a sip, waiting a moment before gulping them down and letting out another deep breath.
“Yeah, sure, okay, I’ll stay,” he said, probably too affirmatively than he had wanted. “If you’re that desperate to keep me around.”
He flicked another crooked smile to Phantom, handing him back the water in a sort of odd way, just bending his arms at the elbows so it wouldn’t bother him as much.
In reality, he figured he needed to stay. Maybe he would have a different view after the painkillers, but right now, he needed help. So he’d get it… just from an unlikely person.
Val set the glass down on the coffee table with a smile that was probably too bright. "Of course I'm desperate to keep you around, what would I do without my favorite villain here to nag me?" His hands were a flury of motion while he talked, smoothing the blanket and running through Padlock's hair and then groping around to find something so he could prop himself up.
"Y'know, last time I took those they conked me right out, so I figure you're pretty tired right now, yeah?" He glanced down at Padlock, trying to get a read on how tired he was. "So why don't you hit the hay and let me get the house guest friendly? There's a lot of tidying up to do, especially in my room, and I'll probably need to get some groceries too so that's gonna take a little while and… is there anything you want? I'm not the best cook in the world but I can probably whip something up if it's not too hard."
He gave Padlock an expectant look, a little manic as he realized he was having a guest over and he'd really never done that before and god, he really really wanted to impress Padlock, what if he fucked up? He didn't know how to entertain people, he hadn't even had his family over yet!
Padlock couldn’t help but smile as he layed back down, squinting closed his eyes again and letting out a faint murmur.
“Yeah, I’m pretty loopy,” he admitted, in total agreement with the statement.
He looked to the side at the next question, still smiling at the way Phantom rambled. It was sort of charming, especially because Padlock really enjoyed making people flustered— especially Val— and confused.
“To eat?” he asked, voice raspier before he cleared it, wrinkling his nose in doing so. “I really have no preferance. I’m sure anything would be better than what I’m used to.”
He took another deep breath, held it for a moment, before letting it out once more. Either the pain was subsiding or he was slowly drifting to sleep, he didn’t know.
Though he knew soon enough, as his whole body began to relax and his face lost its pained grimace. Seemingly asleep, he let his head fall to the side, lips parted only slightly as his chest rose and fell rhythmically.
It had been an extremely long amount of time since he last had a good rest.
It should've been easier now that Padlock was asleep but it really wasn't. Val had the most absurd urge to just… plop down by the side of the sofa and watch him until he woke up again which was a) creepy and b) a very bad plan becuase his room was a mess and he hadn't been kidding when he had he had no groceries and god, there was just so much to do.
He let himself ran his hand through Padlock's hair once and then he was off, flitting around the house in a haze of manic energy and flustered confusion. Every now and then he's pop back into the living room to make sure Padlock hadn't spontaneously died or jumped out another window and every time it felt stupider and stupider because it was clear that he really was just asleep. And you couldn't even die from a dislocated shoulder anyways.
Still, he could barely drag himself out the door for groceries and when he got back his knees went all wobbly with relief because Padlock was still there, dead to the world on his couch but not actually dead. Worrying so much was unusual to him and he felt all flustered and off balance anyways because he had Padlock in his house which was something he'd never expected to happen. Ever. And like always, he started rambling to get rid of his nerves, which filled the house up with chatter and took the edge off as he started cooking up dinner.
(Should we time skip? I feel like Padlock would probably wake up later that night, if not like.. 9 or 10 pm? I can have him up earlier if you want, though)
(Have him wake up late if that's what feels right for the character. Val's probably gonna be sat on the couch watching TV)
