The Horrors of Clutter

Aspen's face became dangerously hot. The bartender's closeness and the fact that he had barely anything on made him highly uncomfortable. How he managed to swallow the bite shoved in his mouth, he couldn't fathom, as his brain had pretty much shut down the second the other's thumb touched his face.

All of this had really become far too much for him!

"There's a good boy. How about you have a little more to eat? A bit of food in you will help you get rid of that nasty hangover you're dealing with." Raphael gently tried to get the other to take another bite, only to find access to the desired cavern tightly shut. That wouldn't do. Aspen needed food in his stomach to stop the other from passing out the next time he began to freak out.

"I think I would much rather finish this conversation upstairs and see that piece of paper you mentioned." Aspen pushed the bartender's hand away when the other tried again to shove the biscuit in his mouth when he opened it to speak. Aspen, honestly, to be able to put something on as well.

The doorway to freedom was so close, and the only thing that held him back from bolting through it was his lack of modesty. People would surely gossip if he came running out in his underwear. That wasn't the kind of reputation he was trying to gain in this town. At least not right after having just moved there.

"Darling, I already told you there will be plenty of time for us to talk about that in a little bit. Right now, you need to have something to eat." Raphael drawled out the word 'darling,' trying his best to comfort the other despite wanting to shove the food in his mouth.

"Then could you at least show me where a restroom I could use here is? Next day alcohol breath doesn't exactly pair well with these biscuits." His bladder had also begun to make its presence known.

"Certainly. I can show you where it is if you'd like. You'll have to use mine, as my roommate is a bit picky about anyone going into his space." Raphael put the biscuit back down before wiping his hands off his jeans and standing up.

He offered Aspen his hand, but the other rejected it, choosing to stand up on his own. The less contact between the two of them at the current moment, the better his fragile mental state would be.

"I think that I should be fine to find it myself. I did just come from that room, after all. Where are the extra toothbrushes located?" Aspen silently hoped the bartender wouldn't try to follow after him if he acted cool about the whole matter. If he could get a few minutes away from the other, he could collect himself and figure out what to do next.

"In the bathroom cupboard. I always keep a few around for unexpected guests. There's another cup up there if you need to rinse your mouth, and mouthwash can be found on the top shelf." Aspen repeated the information aloud as he made his way up the stairs.

"Thanks, I'll only be a handful of minutes." He offered what he hoped looked like a somewhat reassuring smile before he hurried up the stairs and into the temporary sanctuary of the bedroom.

Raphael couldn't help but smirk as he watched the other until he disappeared. His little cowboy certainly made for a far more exciting partner than he'd expected. How long would the other stay around be the question? He couldn't imagine his roommate wouldn't want to start taking bets with him once the other returned from his second job. That was if the Irishman didn't try to kill him first to give away the rest of his favorite biscuits.

Raphael would have to ensure he made a fresh batch before the other returned if other matters didn't keep his hands too full until then.

Aspen felt like he could finally breathe a sigh of relief when he shut the door behind him. Seeing that the bartender didn't follow him upstairs made him feel slightly better. The other must've trusted him enough not to do anything that would require him to have an escort.

Aspen immediately began to scan the room the moment he composed himself. Where did his clothes end up? The room was a horrible mess, but they had to be there somewhere. If he could find his pants, that would be enough for him to get out with.

Based on the messy stratification of the room, finding his pants looked as though it would be looking for a needle in a haystack. The bartender either didn't understand how the organization worked or enjoyed living in squalor based on the state of the floor and the few surfaces that weren't the bed.

Piles of clothes littered the floor, along with wads of paper and other indiscernible bits of trash. Empty cans and snack bags took up the one desk in the room alongside what looked to be a half-filled bag of trash that spilled over onto the chair next to the desk. Did Raphael start cleaning up, and somehow, the rest of the garbage didn't manage to reach the bag before he stopped?

Aspen let out a low whine of dissatisfaction as his fingers began to twitch. He knew that he should've been using his energy to try and find his pants, but he couldn't peel his eyes away from the room's clutter. He could feel his OCD starting to kick in as the words 'clean, must clean' began to repeat like an unending loop inside his still throbbing head.

Oh, how badly he wanted out of the place, yet Aspen already knew that his brain wouldn't let him take a break or turn his back on the horror that was before him.

How could anyone think this was an excellent place to allow a guest to spend the night?