It could’ve been worse.
If they had to evacuate Muddy and get stuck in crap motel rooms without choosing their roommate (Bash had not been pleased to hear that) at least he’d had the decent luck to get put with one of the few people he actually didn’t mind being around. Granted, things were a little weirder because of the fact that Bash had stayed the night at Atreus’ place and then the majority of the next morning and into the afternoon? It was probably the longest stretch of time he’d spent with anyone in a long time. He partially blamed the wicked hangover for making it difficult to actually do anything, but spending that much time with Atreus hadn’t been horrible, either. Seemed like they’d be spending more time together, too, given the whole roommate situation until Muddy was cleaned back up. Being back in Chicago was kind of refreshing because now he could at least get some decent Mexican food again. He’d ridden over to his favourite little hole in the wall and Danita, the woman who owned the place, had actually been happy to see him. She also promptly gave him shit in Spanish for staying away so long, but since Bash wasn’t used to people being happy to see him, it was kind of nice anyway. The food was just as good as he’d remembered.
Bash was back in the room, sitting on the bed he’d claimed which happened to be the one closest to the door. He liked to be ready to react if anything went down. He glanced over at Atreus, not entirely sure how this would work since he’d never had a roommate before. “We need to set up ground rules? Sock on the door shit or something?” He tried to ignore the fact that he didn’t like the idea of Atreus bringing someone else back to the room. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter.
@atreus-trower