Wet Blanket Attitude

By the time Scot made it back to his place, he was bone tired and fed up. Their investigation of Oubliette went tits up, but at least they managed to get some information. His clothes were soaked with salt water and coated in sand, and wanted nothing more than a nice hot shower. He caught up with Hopper and they trudged silently to his car. The drive back to his place was equally quiet.

Nora was already showered and in her pajamas by the time they made it back to Scot's town house. He offered Hopper a fresh change of clothes and he stripped right there in the living room, slipping on the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. Scott shook his head and chuckled fondly as he made his way to the bathroom, following Hopper's lead and stripping down the hall before turning into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Even though the hot shower was exactly what he needed, he was exhausted and didn't want to stand any longer. He exited in less than 10 minutes, fully dressed in plaid pajama pants and an old graphic tee he got in high school that had really seen better days. Holes dotted the entirety of the shirt, allowing pale skin to peak through. He collapsed on the couch, sandwiched between the two goons he somehow came to adopt.

"Okay old man? You look tired," Hopper spoke up on his right. Scot turned to give him a severely unamused glare.

"Yeah Hop. I am tired. Exhausted in fact," he snapped. "Maybe next time don't leave your partner in the dust."

"Maybe next time you should keep up," he quipped back, cocky smirk and all. Scot rolled his eyes with a huff, sinking deeper into the cushions.

"Just shut up. What are we watching anyway?" he asked, pointing at the tv, the only light source in the dark room.

"I dunno, just some crap Nora turned on."

"Hey! It is not crap!" she interjected, defensive over her choice of shows. "It's Little Shop of Horrors!"

"A musical? After what I just went through? Absolutely not, you might as well just shoot me," Scot grumbled, snatching the remote straight out of her hand. She made a noise of complaint as it was ripped from her grasp. "What gives?"

"My house, my tv, I decide what we watch," Scot sassed, searching through the channel guide until he found something suitable, settling on reruns of King of the Hill. He relaxed as he listened to Dale's classic paranoid ranting and shivered slightly as a chill ran through his body.

He looked to his left when he felt a hand tap his shoulder and saw Nora holding up the edge of her blanket. "You cold?"

Scot shook his head and turned his attention back to the tv. "No thanks, I'm fine."

"But you look cold! Doesn't he look cold?" Nora asked Hopper for backup. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye, not really wanting to look away from the screen.

"Uh, sure," he agreed, because it was just easier to just go with whatever Nora was saying than trying to argue.

"I think the doctor's prescribing you a dose of my body heat," she said matter of factly. Scot furrowed his brows, but before he could question her, the blanket was thrown over him and she was pressed against his side. Scot let out a long, suffering sigh but let it happen, too tired to push her away. Besides, that would've been rude.

"Oh no, it's worse than I thought! Quick Hop, I think he needs a double dose!"

Hopper's lips quirked up in an amused smirk. He pressed the back of his hand to Scot's forehead and decided to play along. "You're right, he's freezing!"

"You two are ridiculous," he said, barely holding back a chuckle.

Nora scoffed, "Someone has to be." Scot looked at her, narrowing his eyes.