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Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Prompt: "You wanna see a photo of a cock?" *slides a picture of a rooster over*

Jack has been abnormally quiet for the past hour. Usually he would be sat next to me, clearly unfamiliar with the concept of personal space as he rambles on about some stupid story he heard about a woman at McDonalds or that he saw a dog whilst walking home. Or he would be in the kitchen banging pots and pans together pretending that he's in a marching band. Either that or unsuccessfully trying to grab a pan or attempting to make dinner. Even when he's upstairs he's usually jamming out on his guitar, screaming at the games console or singing at the top of his lungs and probably upsetting the kids living next door.

None of that though. Just unusual silence.

The temptation to go upstairs and see if he's alright has been pulling at me for a while now. I'm sure he's okay and possibly having a nap, but it's difficult not to worry when your other half is so boisterous. When laughter always fills your home so regularly silence becomes foreign.

Maybe I'll just check up on him, make sure he hasn't broken something or anything of that nature. Yet as soon as I think this my body rejects the idea because shit, I am really comfortable right now. I have sat near motionless at the dining table for about twenty minutes and my body has grown accustomed to remaining seated here. Thankfully I can hear the sound of footsteps, so I take it that he is still alive.

Soon he is walking into the dining room, sweatpants hanging low on his hips and without a shirt for some reason despite it being nearly four in the afternoon. His hair is in an absolute state, half of it standing up and some lying flat as it hangs in front of his eyes which don't even look up to greet me. Taking a seat on the opposite side of the table he doesn't even acknowledge my presence, instead pulling out his phone and scrolling through what I guess is most likely twitter.

A minute passes and still no verbal greeting. No smile. No looking at me. He seems generally oblivious to my being here at all. Shit, have I annoyed him? Is he mad at me? What have I said to him today? I did eat the last cookie, but that was hours ago and he was only annoyed for ten seconds maximum.

"Hey Alex." His monotonous voice breaks the silence, though he refuses to look up from his phone.

"Jack."

"You wanna see a photo of a cock?

"I...what?" I question, clearly confused by his incredibly odd request.

"Do you wanna see a photo of a cock?" Each word is exaggerated as he repeats the question, still not looking at me.

"Are we talking about any cock or a specific one? Because if it's specific, I have one I have in mind that I wouldn't be too offended at seeing."

Instead of replying, Jack places his phone on the table and slides it over to be. Confused and honestly a bit scared, I take the phone and look at it.

On the screen is a photo of a rooster.

"Are you fucking kidding me."

My hint of annoyance is gone almost immediately at the sound of Jack erupting into raucous laughter. That laughter is joined by my own sniggers as he falls out of his chair, clearly amused at his own appalling joke.

"If I didn't love you as much as I do I would have immediately asked you to move out."

----------

"You wanna see a photo of a cock?" Jack texts me the next day despite him only being upstairs.

"Go for it." I reply instantly, expecting that bloody rooster to be sent to my phone immediately.

It is not the rooster I receive though.

"JACK WHAT THE FUCK?!" I shout out loud, and instantly I can hear Jack cackling upstairs.

"PLEASE TELL ME THIS ISN'T SOME STRANGERS DICK!"

Seconds later there is a large 'bang' which I guess is probably due to Jack falling off of the bed. The cackling continues, even louder this time if that is even possible.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Prompt: "You wanna see a photo of a cock?" *slides a picture of a rooster over*

Jack has been abnormally quiet for the past hour. Usually he would be sat next to me, clearly unfamiliar with the concept of personal space as he rambles on about some stupid story he heard about a woman at McDonalds or that he saw a dog whilst walking home. Or he would be in the kitchen banging pots and pans together pretending that he's in a marching band. Either that or unsuccessfully trying to grab a pan or attempting to make dinner. Even when he's upstairs he's usually jamming out on his guitar, screaming at the games console or singing at the top of his lungs and probably upsetting the kids living next door.

None of that though. Just unusual silence.

The temptation to go upstairs and see if he's alright has been pulling at me for a while now. I'm sure he's okay and possibly having a nap, but it's difficult not to worry when your other half is so boisterous. When laughter always fills your home so regularly silence becomes foreign.

Maybe I'll just check up on him, make sure he hasn't broken something or anything of that nature. Yet as soon as I think this my body rejects the idea because shit, I am really comfortable right now. I have sat near motionless at the dining table for about twenty minutes and my body has grown accustomed to remaining seated here. Thankfully I can hear the sound of footsteps, so I take it that he is still alive.

Soon he is walking into the dining room, sweatpants hanging low on his hips and without a shirt for some reason despite it being nearly four in the afternoon. His hair is in an absolute state, half of it standing up and some lying flat as it hangs in front of his eyes which don't even look up to greet me. Taking a seat on the opposite side of the table he doesn't even acknowledge my presence, instead pulling out his phone and scrolling through what I guess is most likely twitter.

A minute passes and still no verbal greeting. No smile. No looking at me. He seems generally oblivious to my being here at all. Shit, have I annoyed him? Is he mad at me? What have I said to him today? I did eat the last cookie, but that was hours ago and he was only annoyed for ten seconds maximum.

"Hey Alex." His monotonous voice breaks the silence, though he refuses to look up from his phone.

"Jack."

"You wanna see a photo of a cock?

"I...what?" I question, clearly confused by his incredibly odd request.

"Do you wanna see a photo of a cock?" Each word is exaggerated as he repeats the question, still not looking at me.

"Are we talking about any cock or a specific one? Because if it's specific, I have one I have in mind that I wouldn't be too offended at seeing."

Instead of replying, Jack places his phone on the table and slides it over to be. Confused and honestly a bit scared, I take the phone and look at it.

On the screen is a photo of a rooster.

"Are you fucking kidding me."

My hint of annoyance is gone almost immediately at the sound of Jack erupting into raucous laughter. That laughter is joined by my own sniggers as he falls out of his chair, clearly amused at his own appalling joke.

"If I didn't love you as much as I do I would have immediately asked you to move out."

----------

"You wanna see a photo of a cock?" Jack texts me the next day despite him only being upstairs.

"Go for it." I reply instantly, expecting that bloody rooster to be sent to my phone immediately.

It is not the rooster I receive though.

"JACK WHAT THE FUCK?!" I shout out loud, and instantly I can hear Jack cackling upstairs.

"PLEASE TELL ME THIS ISN'T SOME STRANGERS DICK!"

Seconds later there is a large 'bang' which I guess is probably due to Jack falling off of the bed. The cackling continues, even louder this time if that is even possible.