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cowboycasanovaWho: Leighton Kent and Lance Valentine
What: Jetlag's a bitch
Where: Their new bachelor pad, New York City
When: Saturday morning
Leighton wasn't much of a morning person at the best of times, but he was about a million times worse when he had no sleep the night before. It just seemed that his mood was in the red that much more when he wasn't a morning person, was jetlagged, and just when he thought he managed to doze off last night trying to get his body clock on Yank time after the long haul flight from Australia the day before, fuck central had started in the room next door to him. He was now sitting at the large island counter in the middle of the fucking huge kitchen aggressively stirring 5 sugars into the coffee he had just brewed. His long hair was all over the place from fruitless tossing and turning to try to get to sleep, even trying to shove his pillow over his head to invite some silence for his ears. Now he was just a grump and honestly, fuck Yank time. If he crashed after this coffee in the middle of the day, so be it.
They had been in New York about 24 hours now. It wasn't long enough for him to figure out if he liked it yet. It was loud and full of concrete and people rushing all over the place. It smelt funny too. It was a far cry from the station back home, but he was okay with it. He knew it would take a lot of adjusting and acclimatising to the new surroundings. Plus, this was only a base. They would see all over America soon enough, and like his mum told him when his family saw him off at the airport - it was all part of the adventure. He just would be feeling particularly celebratory about new beginnings until he could manage some decent sleep. The coffee even tasted weird. It was no Nescafe Blend 43, that's for sure. And with a couple of social things book in their schedule that coming week - meeting with Angel and his twin, a photoshoot around New York to publicise their arrival - he needed to at least try to get his body clock adjusted to the new time zone.
What: Jetlag's a bitch
Where: Their new bachelor pad, New York City
When: Saturday morning
Leighton wasn't much of a morning person at the best of times, but he was about a million times worse when he had no sleep the night before. It just seemed that his mood was in the red that much more when he wasn't a morning person, was jetlagged, and just when he thought he managed to doze off last night trying to get his body clock on Yank time after the long haul flight from Australia the day before, fuck central had started in the room next door to him. He was now sitting at the large island counter in the middle of the fucking huge kitchen aggressively stirring 5 sugars into the coffee he had just brewed. His long hair was all over the place from fruitless tossing and turning to try to get to sleep, even trying to shove his pillow over his head to invite some silence for his ears. Now he was just a grump and honestly, fuck Yank time. If he crashed after this coffee in the middle of the day, so be it.
They had been in New York about 24 hours now. It wasn't long enough for him to figure out if he liked it yet. It was loud and full of concrete and people rushing all over the place. It smelt funny too. It was a far cry from the station back home, but he was okay with it. He knew it would take a lot of adjusting and acclimatising to the new surroundings. Plus, this was only a base. They would see all over America soon enough, and like his mum told him when his family saw him off at the airport - it was all part of the adventure. He just would be feeling particularly celebratory about new beginnings until he could manage some decent sleep. The coffee even tasted weird. It was no Nescafe Blend 43, that's for sure. And with a couple of social things book in their schedule that coming week - meeting with Angel and his twin, a photoshoot around New York to publicise their arrival - he needed to at least try to get his body clock adjusted to the new time zone.
