#botavsmabio

This little fact had also no reason to be at all attractive. Because he already figured the day before that the marine biologist could throw him out the window without breaking a sweat. The skinny twig of a botanist should really not be able to do the same. But here they were.

And his brain did not register that as scary or unjust at all. As it should. No it went to... other things. That he should not be thinking about. At all.

Especially not with that massage that he had been threatened with.

For some reason – he could not at all recall how – he had said okay to the massage and get rid of the shirt. He does not recall at all. But... it might have had something to do with the groan that he had given when Raphael had pressed one point that had him completely blissed out and in an agreeing mood.

Fact was: now he was on the massage-table and Raphael instructed her how to take care of his headache for now. Not actually putting any pressure on and just lightly stroking his temples... and running her hands through his hair.

Henoch made a few grumpy noises. A token of protest. But... there was no heart in it. IT did feel good. Especially the treatment of his back. With oil.

… someone who was ot sure he was not attracted to was moving over his naked skin with oil. In circling motions... and does not actually hurt him. It was actually fine. He was... fine. Just as fine as laying on the bed. Except... you know... there were two scientists around him, touching him and soothing his body.

And he had agreed. And he just...  let it happen.

And when Raphael came a little closer when he grumped at him, he hissed: “How could you betray me so?!”

Raphael just raised his brows and then shrugged: “Well. I will start to do this properly... you need to relax... you're all cramped from the pain... and it will be more painful for a while... but it will help, alright?”

There was another grumpy agreeing noise from him. He DID want to get better. Just... not... with attractive people in his bedroom. Who take care of him and try to make him feel better. After he'd overdone sports. That's horri-

...

What was he even complaining abo-

“OW!”

“Sorry”. At least Raphael had the decency to sound actually apologetic.

Gabrielle, on the other hand, ran her had over his hair and murmured: “Be brave, big boy... it'll be all better tomorrow” and then chuckled. A tiny chuckle.

And that was it. Those people made fun of him. It was not fair. He had not invited them.

Just. Agreed to let them come here.

And not sent them out.

And taken off his shirt.

And sighed a few relieved times.

…

They had no right to be there, surely.

He groaned in frustration. This was getting him nowhere.  

And when a concerned botanist asked him if it was too bad, he just huffed and made a little gesture for him to continue. It seemed to be his fate for the day.

And so it was, for about an hour. At which point he was in pain, but also felt a little like he had  melted into the table. They had talked a little bit. About what? Henoch was not sure. Maybe yoga. The hands wandered a lot.

“You alright?”, a female voice inquired, petting his head.

There was a tiny hum. And something like a nod.

“Well then... sleepy time...”

Mh? That did sound good... it did sound like a... right idea.

They both lifted him fro the table and onto the bed.

His bed was a nice bed. Really nice. And he grabbed the pillow for cuddling. Just that it was: “... cooold”, he sounded petulant. Even to his own ears.

Still no reason to take his pillow away. He whined.

It got stuffed under his head instead. And then he got a solid replacement. One that was warm.And skinny. And shuffled his back against his chest. Well. Not much different from the morning of the day before.

“Awwww... how cute... can I join, too?”

Raphael made a questioning noise. And shrugged himself: “Sure?”

The only non-scientist in the room gnawed at his lower lip. And tried to move his head to look at Gabrielle. It hurt. So he let that be.

And shrugged, giving a non-committal sound.

She interpreted it as an agreement. And there was warmth on his back as well.

Well.

… he was not sure if he remembered how to move.

If he laid perfectly still... it was bearable. He barely felt it. But... if he moved.

Well.

Lets say he was glad it was Sunday. It was Sunday and he did not NEED to move. Except MAYBE to the bathroom. Maybe.

Ten minutes later this was a definitely.

As he made it there – it took almost a quarter of an hour – he decided not to drink anything during this very day. It was not worth it. Dying of thirst was preferable. It was decided.

Another 15 minutes and he was back in bed.

Everything was AGONY.

An hour later... his phone rang. He stared at it in disdain. But still picked it up.

“And? How are you?”

… he wanted to wish her murder. But instead just groaned a little bit.

“Aaaah, I see. Well, I'll be over in twenty minutes. I'll bring help! Alright?”

He managed another groan. A questioning one. At least he had wanted to make it sound like one.

Obviously, this endeavor failed, since Gabrielle said: “Okay! Until then!”

His eyes went as big as saucers.

Had he just agreed to...

…

Ah, if he did not let them in, everything would be fine. Yes.

Twenty minutes later... the doorbell rung. And... he did even consider getting up. It's not like he would reach the entrance in the next hour. At least it felt like it.

That he heard a KEY the next moment was a little more concerning.

“Help has arrived!” a female voice announced.

And something heavy got carried in. The door closed behind.

“Oh my, Henoch... did you overdo it yesterday?”

He had no choice over the correct pronounciation, though.

After the lecture, he waited for her with raised brows: „What was this about, professor Jibril?“

„What, is it not normal that there is sometimes a friendly visit from colleagues?“, she looked almost insulted, with a little pout.

„Not from scientists, never, no“, seriously. They were the most antisocial of them all and if they did visit, it was usually very... strange. And difficult for everyone involved.

It made her laugh. A nice laugh, with closed eyes and crinkled cheeks and hair moving the tiniest bit between every giggle, all flowey and light. She said, after probably reliving some old memories: „Fair enough. It IS always a little awkward“

„... sooo?“, he had asked a question, after all.

„Oh, right! I wanted to know if I am just as grumpy as you are when I understand about twenty percent of all the things being talked about. Sooo, since you did look at me: How is it? Am I grumpy?“, she smiled at him.

And he levelled his eyes at her: „...no“

„Aaah, must be something only you do, then“

„... I suppose...“, he wanted to huff. Did she really have to point something like this out? Well, now she at least... knew.

„Ah, it's lucky you are so cute when you're grumpy“, she laughed and went with the rest of the students out of the lecture hall.

…

What had that been about?!

… at least she had not smelled of the strange flower-thing.

Unlike the one that showed up in the seminar in the afternoon.

He actually paid attention and discussd things with the other students around him – they were just as baffled about him as they were about professor Jibril a few hours earlier, but they tried. They all tried. It was a little harder with him, though: He was a social clutz and didn't give much about what other people thought of him. But he, too, tried. Just a little too hard.

After the lesson, he had three pencils stuck in his hair... a nervous habit: He put them behind his ear, but the hair moved and they got somewhat lost afterwards. And hey, he even came without a labcoat.

What gives, classes were over for the day.

„And what brings YOU here, mh?“, he levelled with the other. He still made notes after the others were all gone, two even said good bye to Raphael. Oh my.

He looked up, set his glasses straight and looked at him with this strange reverance he sometimes showed:  as if he held the secrets to the universe and the object he is looking at is the most precious thing in the world.

He... did that. It was adorable.

Until you happen to be the object.

Because then you notice it's rather flattering. And you would have nothing against being looked at like that a little more often. By green, intelligent eyes.

Henoch coughed and looked away for a moment: „Well?“

Sometimes, Raphael was a little bit troubling.

„... a... aahm... actually, I just wanted to ask you a favour, but the seminar started, so it would have been very rude and... well, it was very fascinating, all the different interpretations and meanings behind texts... I had no idea“, he looked like he had found 'loot' in a video game.

He really did. He'd seen it before.

„I... see. Well. You... can come to some seminars, if you want... as long as your plants let you go...?“, he was NOT the theological-science kind of person, really. Most likely, he didn't even believe in God at all.

„... aaah. Right. Right! I... yes. They do, but... I need... well... I need to make a cell-culture... and... my lab-coat's gone, so I can't just sove the hair under and... uhm... the hair band only keeps so much hair away and... last week went so SMOOTHLY, when you braided it, so... could you...? …?“

Henoch rubbed the bridge of his nose. Letting out a long suffering sigh: „Well fine, but... Raphael. You have to keep an eye on your laboat. Who knows where it turns up this time... and... really, your plant smells WEIRD. Like ocean or something“

Henoch had grabbed the pencils in the hair and pulled it all together to start a proper braid again. Raphael looked over his shoulder up to him: „... uhm... it's lavender. It... smells of lavender?“

Henoch sniffed and then shrugged: „... maybe a hint. But it's mostly just strange. And very distinct“

„Well... that's alright? It's not too bad. Has a calming effect anyway“

The theologian just continued braiding and chuckled. Sure. Calming. If you didn't constantly worry about the smell being in places where it should not be.

At least this behaviour right there and then was enough of a reason not to grow attracted to the silly man.

Even when he beams at you and thanks you from the bottom of his heart for something like braiding his hair. They would have coffee together the next day.

... fair enough.

When the botanist wanted to get his hair back in order, Henoch stared at him for about two minutes... watching him fail.

After that, Raphael gave up with a sigh and handed the tail of his strands over the table, huffing. And Henoch took care of it, braiding the edless trail into something managable. As much as it smelled of the strange flower-things.

When done, Raphael thanked him and stretched. He really was a bit too tall. And mostly legs, too.

… still doesn't mean that he should buy things too small for him: Whenever he stretched, the shirt rode up and exposed indecent amount of skin – and proof that the silver hair truly was not coloured. One day, he might be able to afford a proper wardrobe. Maybe with the right funding.

Hopefully.

It might even help with the smell. More improvements in the plant and all.

In the afternoon, he took his fifth cup of tea for this day when a familiar scent came up to his nose again.

„You better have taken your labcoat off THIS time...“, he said before turning and... facing a much smaller and more female person than he had expected.

Said person poited at the wardrobe: „All good and taken care of!“

When he frowed at her, se snickered: „What? Not expecting 'me' again?“

„... you could say that... actually someone with... less messy hair“

„How rude, Mr. Loew, how rude. If it bothers you that much, you may just as well take care of it!

„...well, fine“, he wasn't sure what made him do it. Probably that it was the exact same situation. And that it was something nice to do after mistaking her for the wrong person however many times now.

Henoch threaded his fingers through the thik, healthy hair and braided it, rnet as you please. It had looked like she'd just taken a nap, really. Hair all tousled. But also refreshed. Like the nap was a good one.

She chukled when he was half-done and sipped her... coffee. Ah... scientists ad their coffee... sugary coffee, too.

„You know I was actually joking, right?“, there was mirth in her voice.

The theology-professor stopped in his motions right then.

But only for a moment, then he shrugged: „Hrm, but it does bother me. Don't these eight-legged sea-beings grab onto hair? Don't want you to be drowned by your own project“

„Aw, but your friend would get the funding then!“, she looked up at him from underneath the hair.

„And he'd probably donate it to your branch, then. Nono, you better stay alive and well and...“ - he checked the braid, then let go of her hair - „... pretty. Or Mr. Israfil will be distraught“

Henoch sat dow on the opposite side of the table again.

„Aw, was that a compliment from our resident science-grump?“

„... I am NOT the resident science-grump, I even go to your meetings. I'm interested“

„You do look rather grumpy when you don't understand things“

„...“

She smiled that brilliant smile of hers: „Didn't know that?“

„Rarely don't understand“, he huffed.

„I might look the same in a theological class“, she patted his hand a little.

„... I... that was... yes. Maybe“, alright, he HAD sounded like a whiny teenager. Maybe.

„Heh. Well. That had been a nice break. Thanks for the... uhm... hair styling? See you around, I suppose!“

Maybe.

Fact was: These people were not meant to talk. Not in front of an audience, at least. He understood maybe half of it...  and the rest made up no context to enlighten this half. It was just a big mess.

This theology-professor had spend the last half hour with getting increasingly confused.

And he'd always thought Raphael was talking too much nonsense. Really, he should go easier on him. He at least got his point across. Miss Jibril, too , but the other three? He... wasn't eve sure what the projects were about.

Mh.

This conundrum almost made him forget about the odd-smelling couple. WERE they a couple, now?

Since Raphael usually wore his heart on his sleeve, he doubted it, but... who knew? Some people were full of surprises.

But this one?

Nononono. He had ENOUGH surprises in him. Got to draw a line somewhere.

So. Abomination-smell.

He clearly smelled it while she passed, too, wishing him good luck, he replied the same.

… as much as their honest tone showed true christianity, maybe there WAS something going on?

It was odd.

Raphael hugged him before he went, thanked him for staying and... went away. Most likely 'refreshing his perfume', too. Mh.

It was food for thought, at least.

The next very morning... Miss Jibril, in the hall, did not smell of anything but her usual, lovely self. She greeted him with a smile and went on to her part of the university. Most likely wrangling some cuttlefish into submission.

His friend wasfoud in the break-room. He was not as well-put-together as her and looked distinctly unhappy, but still greeted him all the same. Also had brought the usual morning-tea with him. Something was different. About halfway Henoch's own monologue about his students he noted what it was: For once in his life, Raphael had followed the cafeteria-rule of NO LABCOATS ALLOWED.

Maybe that was why he looked so distraught.

No. Apparently it was due to his labcoat having been stolen during his first visit in the break room this morning.

A quick check with the clock told the religious man that it was seven in the morning right there and then. He had not actually wanted to know when this 'first visit' had happened. But he still asked.

… no one should be alive at four in the morning.

Especially not two people that steal each other's labcoats.

Mh.

Here he was, though. And left in a better mood. That's something.

And he had smelled of his... little... creations.