Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was only moments later that Autsu pushed open the front door of the Unit. He wore, at first, his usual blank expression. But as he stood just inside the entryway, unmoving, something like a smile touched his lips. Whether it was sound or smell or some other hidden sense, he knew Kian was present. Perhaps, he had simply already had that knowledge and only just remembered it. Regardless, he smiled, or almost did.

"Anne." More statement than question, paired with a simple nod to the other as he entered the kitchen. Autsu wore his security uniform, having come to the house directly after a shift at work. It had not been a good day, and if bruises did not show on his dark skin, the swollen reminder of a hit taken to the lip did. Such things were expected. Killing was easy. Not killing, a bit more difficult. For some reason, his boss was not willing to consider lethal force as a solution to some of the patrons violent outbursts.

"The heat is unpleasant." He added, though his lover had not yet spoken. Great feathered wings and sweat did not mix. Heat had been a comfortable thing in his old skin, but that body had required the sun.

"It is what I am required to wear," Autsu replied, though he didn't seem particularly irritated, making no attempt to remove the supposedly uncomfortable clothing. Stripping with reckless abandon, even when uncomfortable, was not his style. You wore the uniform assigned you. "But I have some clothes here, I will will change shortly."

Or just lay naked with Kian in the bedroom. That seemed like perhaps the more pleasant solution. It wasn't that Autsu was feeling particularly amorous, the heat and the ache rather sapped desire. But he did enjoy being near his lover, even without the excuse of sex.

He took the lemonade with as little comment as Kian gave in offering it. At first, he merely held the glass to his lip, enjoying the pressure of cold against the wound. But, he did enjoy sugar, and was quickly sipping rather cautiously at the contents, not wanting to burn his lip with the acidic drink.

"No. A man's elbow. It is difficult to restrain the ones that have more than two arms. I held two sets and he continued his flailing. It would have been easier to simply knock him out." He crossed the kitchen then, leaning his hip against the counter and holding the lemonade so that Kian could take it if he wished. His other hand, he rested lightly on Kian's leg, a subtly affectionate gesture.

"The owner feels I lack diplomacy." His tone was dry, with a edge of irritation. If he were the sort, he might have rolled his eyes. But he was most certainly not the sort. "I do not see the point. Violence does not end because you ask politely."

He gave his head a sharp little shake, but eased the moment Kian started to pet at his hair. It was an unfamiliar gesture, really. Something he quite literally could not have experienced in his old form. The sensation was an enjoyable one, easing in some way. And while he didn't quite sigh, tension left him, his shoulders and wings losing there usual 'at attention' correctness.

"Otessa? She learns quickly. She listens well." A small smile, and there was affection in his tone. "But she is loud. Loud, impatient, always wanting. Still, she is good for Father."

He had not expected to like her. Not really. He didn't care for the mother, what he knew of her. And before, when he'd had sisters, they had been creatures to be jealous of. Creatures allowed all the warmth and affection he'd been kept from. It had made him strong, of course. But not particularly fond of his family.

Autsu made a neutral noise, not disagreeing with Kian's assessment of the situation, but aware of the rules should he wish to maintain his employment. Which he did. Sometimes. He wasn't entirely sure why, admittedly. It was something to do. He was supposed to do something.

The joke at his expense was not missed, though initially, his comment was only a mildly amused 'heh' as he thought back to his own smaller self. It was not like a normal adult, remembering childhood years. His mind had been fully aware and receptive at the time. He had been himself, only shorter, and less aware of local customs. "She is-- much more intelligent than I ever was."

But, there was something on Kian's mind, something he was leading toward, even if Autsu did not know what. It was something in his tone, or his choice of wording, that made the winged alien aware that, on some level, this might well be important. A part of his mind worried, shying away from possibilities, but he was better, these days, at facing things. "I will hear it."

Autsu did not answer, or even look at Kian. He studied his hand, still resting against his lovers leg. Skin on skin and the both of them so dark it was not such a remarkable thing, flesh fading into flesh so that one might as well be the other. And weren't they, from the outside? Two angry, damaged men, with few words to offer the world and fewer smiles.

But it wasn't so simple. Kian could smile. There was a sense of humor there that Autsu mostly lacked. Those few times when Autsu's lips turned upward it was likely to be an expression of happiness, not amusement. There was more anger in Kian, where Autsu ran primarily on guilt and pain. And Kian...

Kian had a life, of sorts. Autsu only parodied one, acting out the parts until the curtain was called. As he knew it would be. Maybe things would have gone differently if he'd never heard Narin's voice in that darkened room. Maybe he would have tried harder, to make something of his existence, wouldn't have circled in a holding pattern.

As it was, there was his family. And there was Kian, who he loved in a helpless, desperate way. It wasn't merely blind obedience that compelled him to bend to the others will, though it was true that Autsu was wired for such obedience. No, it was something else. A hope, however unspoken, that if he made the other's life as good as possible for as long as he could, the betrayal would not be so great.

Was it a betrayal to do as you'd always said you would do?

Of course it was.

"I would like that." He said at last. And he would. And they would be closer. And it would dig the knife in even deeper, would make the separation that much more excruciating. But for a time, he would like it. He did not mention the inevitable ending of their shared tenancy. By now, he did not need to. It wasn't merely politeness that kept one from mentioning the elephant in the room. It was the pointlessness of it. It wasn't as if anyone could have missed the thing.

Autsu allowed the silence to rest between them. There was, he was sure, a lot to think about. He didn't know the first thing about selecting a home, let alone how one went about actually obtaining such a thing. On his own planet, he'd left his parents home for the military. There had never been a 'white picket fence' not that the cliche existed.

And there were-- other things to think about. Autsu found his gaze sweeping the kitchen, finally coming to rest on the fridge. The-- very pink fridge.

"Do you suppose we could not tell Lissel about this?" It might have been a joke, coming from someone else. "She will want to help."