#anyway. u've heard of ''too busy fuckin''' now get ready for ''too busy trying not to think about fuckin'''

[phantasmagoric-acquaintance]

@taznovembercelebration day 13: honeymoon

[tw: mentions of alcohol]

“Ooh…” The receptionist clicks her computer mouse a few times, grimacing at her monitor.” “Bluejeans, you said?”

“Yeah, uh, that’s right. Is something…?”

She clasps her hands together, some sort of please-don’t-yell-at-me-I’m-only-doing-my-job gesture. Her ponytail swings as she turns emphatically to face Barry and Lup. “We had a room reserved for you, but last night’s guests left a pretty big mess, so unfortunately that room isn’t going to be ready tonight, and we’re pretty booked this week.”

 “Oh…” Barry glances at Lup out of the side of his eye. He can tell from her wide-eyed gape that she’s thinking the same thing he is­– what the hell are we supposed to do now?

 The receptionist’s attention returns to her computer. She clicks a few more times before she continues. “The good news­– well, I guess it’s not good news, per se, I think someone got left at the altar, but good for you guys specifically­, but– we had a last-minute cancellation. It only has one king bed and it’s been, um, prepared at the requests of the previous guests, but it is a bit of an upgrade, at no extra cost to you.”

 One king bed. Panic, or something like it, grips Barry’s chest.

 He and Lup were both scheduled to present posters at the Planar Physics Research Society’s biennial conference, and she’d proposed months ago that the two of them share a hotel room. It was an economical decision, and it had seemed obvious at the time. But as the week of the conference approached, Barry found himself dreading sharing a room with Lup.

 Not because he didn’t like her, though, but rather for the exact opposite reason.

 She had taken too much valium just before boarding the plane and ended up spending most of the plane ride asleep on Barry’s shoulder, and he was still very much not over that. How was he supposed to share a bed with her for the next four days?

 Then again, he didn’t want them to end up alone in a strange city with nowhere to stay.

He turned to face Lup, and she shrugged at him, her shoulders tense. “I mean, we could try to find somewhere else, but what if they’re all booked, too? And we already paid for this one. Plus, she said it’s a free upgrade. The bed…” He’s not sure if it’s a trick of the imagination, but Barry thinks he sees Lup blush a bit. “…i-it’s not ideal, but we can deal with it, I think.”

 She makes a good point. He turns back to the receptionist and takes a long breath. “Yeah, okay. We can stay here.”

 ---

They absolutely, positively cannot stay here.

Rather than the gentle, muted colors Barry had come to expect from hotel rooms, he and Lup are greeted by a tsunami of crimson, like something out of The Shining. Red wallpaper, red curtains, red carpet…

 …a big, circular bed draped in red quilts and adorned with red heart-shaped pillows. Red roses in a vase atop a red end table. A red heart-shaped box of chocolates leaning on two bottles of champagne.

 The front desk receptionist’s voice tears through Barry’s mind– “I think someone got left at the altar”– and understanding hits him like a truck, too little too late.

 “I-Is this the honeymoon suite?” Lup asks from just behind him. Her voice is smaller and shakier than he’s ever heard it, and he wishes he could sink into the absurd plush carpet, never to be seen again.

 “’Fraid so,” he manages. Rather than look at her, he’s glued his eyes to the giant mirror on the ceiling above the bed. Grossarooney. He already knows he’s going to spend his nights sleeplessly staring up at himself in that mirror, simmering in the horror of the situation.

 Lup walks out from behind him and towards what appears to be a jacuzzi, to his right. “Hooooooly shit.”

 “Is it­–?”

 “Heart-shaped? Yes, yes it is.”

 “Oh my God.”

 Lup picks up a bottle sitting on the ledge of the tub. “They left some bubble bath, though.”

 “Lup, please don’t tell me you’re thinking about using that?!?”

 She throws her hands up defensively, still holding the bottle in one. “O-obviously not while you’re in the room!” Her face matches the rest of the décor in the room in hue.

 “Hell, Lup. Do you know how many people have probably had sex in there? You’ll catch something.”

 “Barry, it’s a honeymoon suite. There’s probably not a surface in here that someone hasn’t fucked on.”

 “Oh my God.” Barry hides his face in his hands. “Why are we talking about this?”

 “Okay, look, I know it seems pretty bad­–“

 “Understatement of the year!”

 “­–but, you know, there’s a bright side here, and I think we’d be remiss not to take advantage of that.” Lup walks from the jacuzzi to the end table. She selects a chocolate from the heart-shaped box and drops it into her mouth before picking up a bottle of champagne and a plastic cup.

 “You’re not seriously going to drink that?”

 She shrugs and starts peeling the foil off the bottle “Why not?”

 “Don’t you have to stand by your poster at, like, 10 in the morning tomorrow?���                          

 “I’m not gonna have that much, Barry, jeez.”

 After thinking about it for a few seconds, Barry reaches for his own plastic cup. “Alright, hit me.”

 He’s going to need it to get through this weekend.