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Fought and Lost

Jameson closed the door behind himself and kicked off his shoes. He wasn't at all surprised to hear the sounds of tinny Japanese pop coming from the kitchen. Despite Ethan having his space for working, the kitchen table seemed to increasingly be the normal spot to find him.

The tin meant the sound was coming from Ethan's laptop, which was a beast of a machine but still had tiny speakers that processed anything heavy on the treble with a familiar tin can sound. Jameson didn't think Ethan even noticed it. He also wondered why he bothered having a proper stereo - there was even a radio in the kitchen with a CD player - if Ethan was just going to use his laptop for everything.

"You're early!"

"I'm on time," Jameson replied as Ethan crossed the living room and slipped into his arms. Ethan had obviously been home for awhile - his hair was up in a loose ponytail and he'd changed into long cotton shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. Somehow, Ethan still made the outfit attractive. "It's not that rare."

"I came home early," Ethan admitted. He winced and Jameson drew back. "Forgot to warn you--"

Ethan stepped back and pulled up his sleeve, revealing a chain of bruises.

Jameson echoed Ethan's wince. While Ethan usually just handled the front desk of the veterinary clinic where he worked part time, sometimes Ethan did have to help out wrangling animals. However, he'd never come home with more than a rogue scratch or two.

"What happened?"

"Today just hurt," Ethan said with a head shake. "There are more where this came from. The first was from one of the office cats deciding cat-like grace was not for her and knocking one of the heartworm display jars off the counter. That barely bruised and thankfully, the jar didn't break. I mean, it's just a rubber replica, but you know..."

Jameson leaned to kiss Ethan's forehead. It seemed like the polite thing to do. Anything else he wanted to do with Ethan probably needed to wait a day or two.

"I'm not that injured!"

"Show me the rest," Jameson replied.

Ethan nodded and lifted up the hoodie to reveal a constellation of purple and black across his midsection.

"They don't hurt as bad, but they look worse," he said. "Those and a couple more on my arm are from a sheepdog twice my size deciding to-- you know the rack with all the prescription food and everything on it? Huge, metal, covered in cans?"

Jameson nodded. Unfortunately he could see where this was going.

"No match for this sheepdog who decided he wanted the treats on the top shelf. And both me and Cindy - I don't know if you know Cindy but she's one of the interns - made the incredibly dumb mistake of trying to catch it."

"Should you go to urgent care?" Jameson questioned. "If you hit--"

"Docs already looked us both over," Ethan interjected with a handwave. "We're both okay, though Cindy did sprain her wrist and went off to the drugstore to buy a brace."

"And you're working--" Jameson gestured to the kitchen.

Ethan nodded. "I'm not terribly tired. And I have tomorrow off, too."

There was a pause.

"I did fill out incident reports, but I'll be fine. Might let you make dinner."

"Mmm?" Jameson thought ordering in might be a bit more appealing.

"When I opened the cabinet to see what we have, a jar of artichokes attacked," Ethan explained. "It didn't break, but..."

"It'll probably leave a bruise?"