Welcome to Gaia! ::

The Butterfly Chaser

After their first night, Sajah hadn’t necessarily expected to encounter Leukos again. He hadn’t known where the man had come from, how long he would be staying, or even whether he was a native or not — though Sajah had expected, given that he was rooming in a local inn, that he didn’t have a residence in the area of his own. When they had encountered one another a second time, however, in the market, it was clear enough that at least for the time being, the man was about and in the area still, and giving performances.

Perhaps, given that he had stolen from him, had taken a fist to the face when they’d first re-encountered one another, and had nearly gotten them into serious trouble with Nyko about — with Leukos understandably not pleased in the least to see him then — if he were wise, he would have contented himself with staying away from the man entirely. Indefinitely, if possible. Leukos had every reason not to want him about. He was taller than him, stronger than him, a relative stranger on all accounts, and Sajah had already pushed his luck more than once. He didn’t need to see him again, and he oughtn’t want to.

But he did want to.

No one understood his language but Nyko—and Leukos. And no one had caught his attention so quickly or so thoroughly prior. He hadn’t thought he’d ever be interested in anyone, since most of his interest was already accounted for, but evidently Leu was an exception. He was physically attractive, certainly, but more than that too he had an energy to him that had drawn Sajah in on the first night—and then never quite left his mind after.

Besides, if he was going to be wandering the avenues of Sajah’s subconscious anyway, Sajah saw no reason (that he was willing to take heed of) not to at least walk the streets to calm his thoughts and give himself time to process and appreciate the village scene.

If he happened to spot the man again along the way, that wouldn’t be his fault.

And when he did spot him, since it wasn’t his fault and since he was already there, he felt no need to feel anything less than thoroughly pleased with himself. Surely he had time to watch for a little while…

Sajah supposed, in retrospect, he ought to have at least tried to have stayed out of sight. He wasn’t here to get attention, right?

But ‘ought to’ was a rather distant concept at approximately the first moment he laid eyes on the man, and as he had moved in, being ‘subtle’ was the furthest thing from his mind. Though it wasn’t logical and was a risk, he knew it surely as he worked his way carefully to the forefront of the crowd—off just to the side, but impossible to miss: he wanted to be seen. And thus, for all that it was arguably among the worst actions to take under the circumstances, when Leukos’ eyes first landed on him and recognition was visibly potent in his face, Sajah’s lips stretched, and his teeth flashed in a broad, toothy grin. He winked.

And marvelously, Leukos continued to perform.

There was a quick hum to his pulse as he watched, attention as much entranced by the show itself as the underlying fact: Leukos knew that he was watching, as soon as he did Sajah had reason to suspect that knowledge would be a present insistence on the back of the man’s mind through every motion. He might, in practice, be performing for the whole crowd gathered, but from Sajahka’s perspective, so long as the weight of his gaze was felt throughout the routine, it might as well have been just for him.

It was certainly easy enough to ignore everyone else when the man’s body was dipping and bending in the sunlight, his skin sleek with exertion. Though the props and attire seemed designed to catch the eye and distract, exaggerating movements and glinting in the light, Sajah found his focus instead followed the seamless shift of Leukos’ center of balance. His body moved, Sajah thought in that instant, like a song, following the precise and elaborate rhythm of an unheard melody.

While Sajah was a generally attentive man, typically paying as much attention to his surroundings as whatever was in front of him for safety’s sake as much as anything else, he found through the whole of Leukos’ performance that his focus was rooted, wholly and fully as though spellbound, on the man before him. And it would not be swayed spare any less than everything.

Sajahka’s attention was absolute. As Leukos came to his flourish of a finale, Sajah’s eyes remained trained there, on him, and the hum of his pulse that had beat quick through the performance seemed to catch—holding still on the moment as the crowd roared and Leukos’ eyes moved out over them, the question hanging: had he imagined it? Did Leukos care that he was there as much as it felt he ought? Then, the full force of the man’s gaze was on him, and Sajah felt the heat of his prior interest rise, coloring his neck, cheeks, and ears as they flicked.

The corner of his lips edged up, and he gave a lopsided grin. «Stunning performance, Butterfly. I am impressed.»

As others from the crowd moved forward — not as many as likely should have, but some — reaching into their purses or pockets to fish for coin donations, a thought occurred to him, and Sajah hummed, smug in spite of himself as he hooked a finger into his pocket. There was next to nothing there, three coins worth of change from the purchase of a quick street meal, and all of them small. He picked out a coppery one, barely larger than his thumb, and flipped it curiously before stepping forward, and casting Leu a glance as he tossed it toward the collection pot.

«You know how to charm a crowd.»

YOU.

Sajah’s eyebrows rose a notch — vile, smug little… — and he tipped his head, watching as Leukos stormed in but making no move to pull back or retreat despite the clear direction of the man’s mood. When Leu’s hand fisted at his shirt, yanking forward and dragging him in none too gently, his gaze trailed up, from Leukos’ figure to his face.

People were watching.

They had to be, under the circumstances, but to whatever extent they were, Sajah was paying them no mind, his focus instead on the smaller details of Leukos’ nearness — he could smell him, from here, some combination of manufactured scent and the sweat of exercise and summer heat — the warmth in his ears, and the anticipatory hum of his pulse under his skin. He didn’t dislike the man — in fact, quite the opposite, it was his fondness and interest which had brought him back despite his better judgment — and so perhaps it would stand to reason that he oughtn’t have gotten so much pleasure out of riling him.

But it was an addicting and so satisfying of a process.

The results were so beautifully explosive.

«I apologize,» he signed. «It is all that I have with me. Perhaps more next time?»

Sajah hadn’t known quite what to expect. And that was part of the thrill of it, he supposed. But given that his purpose, misguided or not, was little more than to hold Leukos’ attention at whatever cost — even if that meant infuriating him in the process — when the sting of a slap whipped across his face, it was not gentle, but he felt as much invigorated as anything else.

And hardly dissuaded. Though, as he lifted a hand to brush knuckles against his smarting cheek, there was a flicker of defensive response there. He had already given the man a punch with no recourse, and anger bubbled easily.

But, he probably deserved it, so he cracked his neck with a head roll instead, and hummed. «Do you feel better yet? Or do you have more to take out on me. We may want to find somewhere with less of an audience unless you want to be seen as abusive.» He grinned. «Or perverse.»

Sajah blinked, watching Leukos’ progression from rage, to abashment, and back to strangled anger again after he released him. There was a splinter of guilt, then, to watch him. He wanted the man’s attention, but it certainly hadn’t been anything personal — he quite liked him, for all the likely-deserved foul words he spat — and it was a bit of a pity he didn’t know how to turn the situation about without either losing the man’s focus entirely or frustrating him further.

I loathe you…

He huffed and tipped his head, frowned, and glanced from Leukos to the crowd—and back. «You look especially beautiful when you’re angry, Butterfly, that’s all. I apologize for any confusion. At first, I thought that I just wanted to see you again, but when I did I became greedy and wanted you to see me too.» He flashed a grin. «Your attention is exciting.»

Lifting his hands then, though, he took a step back, with a hint of a conciliatory bow.

«But, if my presence is so loathsome, I will give you the peace of my absence.» He glanced over Leu once more, a curious glint still in his eye. «If you change your mind, and would like to take out more of your frustration, I will be free all evening.» The corner of his lip edged back up, unduly smug. «I did enjoy f—king you.»

Despite making to retreat, Sajah paused as his attention tracked Leukos’ face and body language — the nervous dart of his eyes over the crowd, strange in that it didn’t so much look like embarrassment or anger at the thought of others knowing he’d bedded this, but something else entirely. An anxious uneasiness almost. Or vulnerability—and an immediate, deep detest for that.

It was evident the moment Leukos concluded he was tired of following Sajah’s games and breadcrumbs.

Sajah watched resolution settle in the man’s face, and he felt his pulse quicken as Leu stooped to take up what was his—and then gripped his wrist fast. Well now you’ve got it. As though bidden up by a spell in the words, heat warmed Sajah’s face anew, a quick, tripping excitement humming like a prickle of energy under his skin, and when Leukos tugged, he cooperated. He was aware, as he let Leukos lead him, that there was risk involved.

Great risk, arguably.

He presumed, from the final sentence, that they would be headed somewhere more private — less witnesses, if anything were to go awry, but necessary, if anything were to get interesting in the ways they had previously. And Leukos was larger than him, and likely stronger, if by virtue of his size as well. Sajah felt confident in his capacity to defend himself generally, but would not have let himself be pulled along if he actually felt such defense would be necessary or tested.

In truth, wisely or not, he trusted the man dragging him at least to a thin extent: he did not take him for a bad man, and for all his anger, most of it was justified. Sajah didn’t expect the man would truly hurt him.

And if he did, it would be worth the risk—and never boring.

Sajah watched the crowds thin. He had figured, twenty-five to seventy-five out of a hundred, Leukos was more likely to ignore him and let him leave him be than chase anything to do with him. He had said loathe—but Sajahka’s calculations had adjusted when Leukos had snagged a grip on him and continued to adjust as he was pulled through the crowd.

Twenty to twenty-six people per block. Fifteen. Twelve. Seven.

His eyes flit, keeping a mental tally as the living quality of their surroundings deteriorated, pulling towards the outskirts and more derelict sections of town.

Three.

Two.

One of them was a drunk, and wouldn’t be likely to respond even if Sajah were in trouble. As they pulled nearer to a side alley that would be at least temporarily out of sight of anyone, Sajah made the split second decision that he didn’t care. It was still worth it. He allowed himself to be dragged, and as he was tossed, back hitting up against the wall with enough impact to knock a grunt from his lungs, his pulse stuttered back up towards his throat as he looked up. Leukos was unfairly tall.

But still the second prettiest fish he had ever laid eyes on. At the question, he hummed, and let his posture relax back against the wall a fraction, shoulders adjusting to support his weight against the structure and eyes skimming down his ‘captor.’ «I do not have a word for your name, and I do not feel up to the task of spelling it each time, L-E-U-K-O-S. So, you are Butterfly. It’s a pretty thing that flits about, dancing on air. You feel lucky to catch a good glimpse of one in their full show.»