Things had changed though. His cloistered self had branched out and said branch was the one to have suggested the team house.
Albite looked incredibly calm which was in stark contrast to how Heliodor felt as he practically paced the living room floor. Anxious energy practically oozed from his pores and it was driving the young man nuts. This whole thing was pushing Helio so far out of his comfort zone and he feared ******** things up more. Even the past two days spent curled up with Waru at his place enjoying each other's company and simultaneously needing comfort and encouraging words hadn’t fully soothed him. But, the time did allow some reflection and he was not at all regretful.
What had transpired between him and Waru was something long in the making and now he needed to confess their actions to the one other person he cared deeply for in his life. “I really hope you’re right and he isn’t going to be upset with us.” Helio finally said as he paused his anxious pacing to look at Albite. Gods, the man was so ******** confident in this. So certain that this would all go well.
All Aelius could picture was Faustite walking out of his apartment, ring discarded on the floor like some cheap trinket.
He blinked, rubbing a hand over his face to discard that horrid memory.
They’d only just arrived and Aelius was ready to scurry out the door like a damn coward.
***
It was yet too early to report to his office official, but Faustite was awake with an inexplicable burst of energy. He decided he would work from the house for the moment, tackling the mundanity of signing off on reports or reading Database updates that were readily available to the bulk of officers. Sensitive reports could wait until he was in the office at the typical hour.
However, sitting himself down with tea in hand and focusing on reports proved unsuccessful. He would read a sentence, but all meaning escaped him. He felt energized, and it proved far too much to force himself to sit down and focus. He had to burn some energy first.
It had been a full ten minutes since Albite and Heliodor arrived; while Faustite's presence was easily felt by his domineering aura, the presence of the inescapably slim boy went unseen. He hadn't been down to the living room that afternoon of yet, for the space still felt chilly with the faded remembrance of seasons. Were it not for Faustite's aura, the space would have felt derelict — perhaps neatly abandoned.
Finally, footfalls echoed soft from the upper floors. A characteristic pad of foot across the stone floor, then a scrape of nails. The steps quickened as the boy descended the stairs.
They might first notice the brilliant orange glow that flooded the room when Faustite turned the corner. His fiery core was brighter than typical, half his regalia was gone, and he was yet covered in sweat. A black terrycloth towel laid on the island for him and he swept it up in one hand as he cast a glance over to the two boys. He held his free hand out in greeting as he quickly wiped the sweat from his chest and neck.
He went to the fridge first, extracting a metal thermos with a cold sheen over it. After several long pulls, he set it on the counter where his handprint steamed slightly.
Attention fixed on Heliodor, then Albite, he signed to the latter: He looks ready to s**t himself. Something happen?
***
Waru raised an eyebrow in response, giving Aelius a softly knowing smile. He almost wanted to tell Aelius to breathe – but wouldn’t patronize the man anymore than he would deny him the right to feel each n every one of his feelings. It could be good to feel, to let it show, to embody those hot-cold-frantic responses till they worked themselves out through tears, n blood, and actions that spoke in ways words never could quite match.
N’so Albite lounged, his gaze catlike on Aelius’s bounding – self entertained – existing as a solid, steadying force in his own home. Because it would never not be. He’d cast his dye into it, watched his Husband mold it out of fiery orders and sharp claws. He would never not be comfortable here—
Even with hell itself descending the stairway…..
Though his gaze did skip pacing purple, red, golds to track vibrant fires and their heated spread, his mind stayed fixed on a far off, distant point. How the whole interaction to him was cute, some warm curled bit of bright and shiny that he wanted to savor endlessly, Aelius’s near constant fretting. The wrung hands, clutched pearls, plaintive, panicked begging. The way he could remember them all talking about being friends over a long and winding meal that was mostly liquid made n watery at the edges–
The way all he heard when Aelius spoke now, was about how much the man loved – truly – with every ******** magical fibre of his dragony essence? Maybe more n any Senshi he’d ever known, save himself!!
*L o v e d F a u s t i t e*
He’d thought about it even if he hadn’t said as much; the glittering dance of clasped rings slipping around a chain that was practically welded to the other man's body. The one item he wasn’t allowed to take off the bluenette. He thought he knew, in his own heart, and in spite of all of Aelius’s frantic words – ******** – *knew* exactly who the man belonged to. Even here, now, and pacing up a storm – tryna wear out the already thousands of years old slab work with wooden heels….
It was exhilarating in its own right! And Aelius? A balm of body the last few days, the joy of being able to have the creature comfort that came with cuddling and not worrying about being kicked out the bed, or if the boy would flee him as if he’d been scalded.
And Ren had left—-
Aelius was no substitute, and he was lacking no people to go to, but the only one he would’ve gone and sought so readily of a small, inner circled few? The one was in a foreign country, the other had ‘state affairs’ of the dark kingdom variety – the newly minted third looked ready to have an aneurysm at the slightest breeze.
A flicker of fingers snared him out of his thoughts like a barbed hook, he thought he only half read them.
“Dunno—I haven’t been with a virgin since before I hit puberty?” A mockery of a whisper that had almost nothing to do with the question asked, and his tone suggested how he was clearly the virgin he’d had in mind, with a brief glance at his own two hands as if they were entirely to blame for his every earthly antic and the consequences that followed. As if the meat of them held tiny palm-sized minds of their own, the lines filled with memories of solo missions he’d entertained himself with before learning that team sports were far more entertaining! That he preferred wrestling to track and field, and that not every event had to be a race against the clock, or striving for best time at the hurdles.
Sometimes it was good to work for it — to make your opponent sweat – to ******** lose the match, to even pretend to throw the damn thing if it lead to favorable outcomes for the audience! If it got a single thread of a smile and the hope in a person's eyes when they finally found a single piece of give in another being!
“But–were you working out, Firebrand? ********..” because Faustite shirtless shouldn’tve been so distracting, but Faustite sweaty and shirtless? Lighting up the room, his grate all exposed, every swallow and pull from that thermos— the way the scrape of claws down the tower remained an echoy itch that begged him to check if they were trimmed in any specific way – he maybe forgot himself as translator – fumbled in remembering at all what those fingers had woven, and how to say it again?
“He wants t’know if you need t’s**t, Aelius? Err–something like that?”
***
Heliodor looked up at the sound of footfalls, as they sped up on the stairs and a glow of fire grew from barely detectable to lighting up the room with warmth. The boy was there then. Shirtless. Distracting enough to cause Heliodor to halt his incessant pacing. The sheen of sweat and the glow from that intricate furnace of the Sovereign’s abdomen gave Faustite a healthy glow. He looked good. Better than that day he’d been buried within long layers at the beach. Aelius swallowed.
A flash of fingers and hands from Faustite and Waru rumbling out a soft response next to him pulled Helio from his musings and he came crashing back to the reality of the day. He hadn’t caught the beginning of it, too lost in thought.
He looked to Waru expectantly as the man fumbled. Well, no, he was pretty sure Albite had also been incredibly distracted by the arrival of their…his boy by the expletive and look on his face. Despite himself and the situation, a small smile eeked it’s way across his face. It was utterly fascinating how the appearance of one person in a certain state could cause Waru, no, both of them, to loose themselves a bit. It was endearing though to see Waru, such a large and dominating man and presence practically turn into a puddle at the sight of his husband. He could only hope for a fraction of that one day.
Obviously distracted and only just remembering his job, Albite finally translated for Heliodor. The man’s eyes widened a bit, brows furrowing. “What? No.” He took a deep breath to try and calm his incessantly racing heart. It didn’t work. He was too on edge, but it did help center his mind a bit since pacing wasn’t really an option right now. Perhaps he should sit? He glanced at where Albite was perched on the couch, and made as if to sit there before thinking better of it. Maybe he shouldn’t sit next to him? But ********, he needed something…someone to ground him and Faustite wasn’t that person. “I am fine. For now anyway. Just….just antsy.” Understatement of the year.
While he was resigning himself to staying standing, he wasn’t ready to thrust himself out into the ocean to weather whatever storm was going to come alone. He turned to look at Albite again with a pleading look. He had no ******** clue how to even broach this conversation. Should they just dive right in? Let the conversation go for a bit before informing Faustite? He turned to look back at Faustite. He was right there. Just within reach if Helio took a few steps but as he watched the boy, a growing shame and guilt bloomed. He turned his attention away completely.
***
Albite's haphazard translation earned a silent chuckle from Faustite. Both the boys looked a touch dumbstruck and he felt flattered for it; usually it was Aelius or Waru turning his head when they went without a shirt. This must've been what it felt like on their ends. Might have to retime his workouts now.
While the pair got themselves reoriented with reality, Faustite opened the cupboards and rooted around for an appropriate tea and coffee. He craved a black tea with some vanilla undertones, knew Albite was deep into black cardamom and chais, and Heliodor (ever the tasteless one) liked coffee. Whatever "dark roast" was. Its only consolation, in Faustite's mind, was that it smelled good when ground down and poured into the french press.
As he turned on the kettle and prepped mugs for each of them, Faustite wondered what brought the pair to his living room unannounced. Albite was relaxed while Heliodor was not, leading him to believe that Heliodor was going to ask something of him shortly and Albite was simply present as (perhaps mutual) support. Maybe Heliodor wanted to follow up their dinner conversation and ask him to do whatever friends did? Faustite measured out the coffee beans for grinding and thought to himself that a simple patrol and pursuit of enemies was fine enough for him. Perhaps even a tea afterward and a little conversation while he cleaned someone else's meat out from under his fingernails.
The kettle went off and Faustite poured boiling water into each of the cups and the press. He turned, then, toward the boys, and signed his brewing consternation toward Albite. What the hell. Uncertain if he could begin to ascertain whatever Albite's comment implied, he decided better of inquiring further. It was likely more of Albite's nonsense — mouth airing out the empty cavity where his brain belonged and random associations came tumbling out like refuse.
He nodded to Albite's question. His flames would stay boisterous and brilliant for a time afterward, much like when he would exert himself on the field. It animated their shadows and their features as if they had devils dancing at their feet.
His next sign was a margin more serious. Something the matter?
***
The scent wafted over him like a balm; hot water, hotter fire, the kind of lazy days and well spent mornings it conjured in his mind. The gentle familiarity of sounds he would never miss becoming used to nearly so much as he would their absence. Faustites easy, practiced movements through the kitchen, just as comforting as the sight of the pair in one space at the same time. Even if Helio looked, however briefly, as though he’d been nailed to the floor and was one step away from being flogged over the nearest surface.
The way all those looks in between were a joy worth feasting over! He didn’t feel so alone anymore, at least not for ogling their boy as shamelessly as a camel did at a distant oasis…
How good it was that Faustite was no mirage, just a healthy, guttural fire moving with intent. Snapping him back to being on track in the interim–
Cause it was ********’ hard t’keep track sometimes without that yank n' lead up. Sharp fingers that held more rigidity, a serious inflection behind the words he finally did bother to catch once he’d swallowed the rest of his pooling saliva and focused on them.
‘I will not drool over Faustite —’
‘I will not drool over Aelius—’
‘I will not drool over Faustite and Aelius – I will focus!!!’
The mental mantra as steady as the drip-drip-drip and squissshh of the french press, the eek of water become steam. He almost wanted to go pluck the so hot it had to be scalding cup up early; just to keep his hands busy, to get up and move and give Aelius a reason to move..
Hell? To scoop the boy up and silence every single plaintive, half-begged look sent his way, between himself and Faustite it could be done – Because just-friendship be damned there was a bed upstairs and they could have it!!
But no – no – n - o - he could wait. The command center that lay in his pants could shut the hell up for five whole seconds; patience would always win out evermore. Especially in this! He told himself as much as he hummed some half attentive note in the other Senshi’s direction, and finally met Faustites eyes; dragged his own above waistline and central fire – until he could mark every choal lined blink and curious crease of brow.
“Nothings the matter, Firebrand.” Shaking his head and wishing he had less hair. “He’s just worried that it is– r’hell? That it will be.” It was an entire task to shove it over so he wasn’t sitting on it too much to move off of it as he needed to. “N’I told him he doesn’t need t’be…It’s you, afterall! N’me, of course….N’Aelius too?” The look he traded between the two, like he wanted to beckon Aelius over, to shove Heliodore towards Faustites heat? Whichever would warm the bluenette faster.
‘Maybe if I put my boy's collar on him first?’
“But I get that he doesn’t get it yet, yeah? I’ve always thought showing was better n’telling – always – that actions speak loudest–” the way Faustite had never had to say the words in order for him to feel them, like every faded mark and line of ink embedded in his skin. “And I’ve spent so much time tryna explain everything that we are,” a gesture between himself and his husband, a tired smile as he leant forwards out of a relaxed splay and finally gave the other two in the room more n’just his lewd focus and filthy thoughts. His own genuine consideration waiting in the eaves like disturbed bats cast aflutter by the daylight, “In words that make sense ********’ anyone on any planet, or star, or existing plane?”
The way he shrugged a shoulder for having not found anyone yet who could, for a period in time where his words weren’t mangled and useless in the face of something as simple as a physical example. He had his one area of expertise!
Some s**t was just easier to show—
“Only t’realize I’ll never have those words, so? The showing part. Because you n’me make this work between us with th’kind of understanding we have – s’deep s**t,” or so he thought, with hopeful eyes and vacuous mind, with a heart larger than any star. He thought Faustite was bottomless in his capabilities, in his depths. He thought Aelius was the exact kind of boiled ocean he’d lay over that tartarus pit of a volcano he called his husband. A perfect pairing– “N’Aelius is *antsy* – that if you find out we’ve decided ********? You'll disapprove for some reason – r’that he’s done something wrong by sleeping with me all mutual like?”
“But there doesn’t quite yet exist a reality n’which you don’t get told what’s going on in my life; present, past, future – so we’re here. Plus? M’starting to worry the sex was terrible – which’d be on me…sooo…there's that, yeah? Huhn…maybe I’m the one who should be worried…” and the thought was not so much for the act as it was the action, that maybe all of Aelius’s cling over the last few days was out of depression? Despondency? What if the frantic worry was a cover up?
‘What if my d**k is stale!?’
And being as young as he was? That seemed something worth worrying about, the way his gaze fell through moods like a plummeting stone, and he let eyes slowly filling with concern slide rapidly back Aelius’s way. Because ********** he must’ve been terrible for it to have come to this! A first time quickly becoming a last and – and – And of course the golden dragon would never tell him the truth to his face!?
No, of course not, Aelius would obviously talk to Faustite about it instead; have the saner, more rational husband let him down slowly – or quickly – or….
***
Gold eyes tracked that bare back and bright fire as the main owner of the house turned to fuss over drinks. Heliodor couldn’t help but find the minstrations both amusing and endearing. Faustite was always playing the grateful host and offering hot beverages to his callers. It was calming, in a way, to watch as he fussed over both tea and coffee. Though, Aelius was doubtful that, at that precise moment, he needed any sort of stimulant. He was fairly certain that he’d find holding a cup steady fairly difficult unless he utilized both hands.
Faustite signed something back to Waru. His hands moved so fast leaving the boy to wonder what it is that was said, but it seemed pointed directly at Albite. The next movment of hands, Aelius tried to focus more on. It gave his mind something to do besides fretting. But again, those slender fingers and hands moved like a dancer across the floor. Fluid and swift. All Helio could manage to get was the word ‘matter’. A singular word gave him no context.
But Albite was on top of it. On top of it all, it seemed. So on top of it, that he opted to take those pleading looks for help and whatever it was the Faustite said and run with it all. Words tumbled from the man’s mouth like water from a dam. Controlled yet plentiful. Too plentiful in Helio’s opinion as he followed the route Albite was taking.
And then. Then Albite just…he ******** laid it out there. Just….dropped it like he was discussing the weather. Easy. Carefree. Nonchalant. Heliodor could feel the heat in his face. “********, Waru. I didn’t expect you to just drop it like that.” He turned to pace across the floor again, once twice. He wiped a hand across his face. He was completely flustered by all of it. Not used to the carefree, open discussion about his sexual life.
“I told you it wasn’t bad.” Helio finally gave up and walked over to plop himself on the couch next to Albite, leaning forward to brace elbows on knees with head in hand. His voluminous hair helped hide his reddened face. “That’s the last damn thing you need to worry about.” He practically spoke into his lap, eyes closed.
“We…I just…” now afraid to even look at Faustite. “I don’t want to hurt you and this happened all of a sudden.” But that wasn’t 100% the truth, was it? It hadn’t been sudden. Well…their first night of passion may have been but leading up to it was anything but.
In his flustered state Helio hadn’t stopped to read the boy. But as he sat there he could feel tension growing in his shoulders. That axe was about to fall and he did not want to see the blow coming this time. He rocked his head from side to side in his hand, rubbing at his forehead and temple.
***
Faustite shook his head gently as he started assembling the small platter of beverages. All of the mugs went on it, spoons, the box of sugar cubes and its metal tongs, the carafe of cream. He thought to himself that Albite was particularly wordy today, that the boy needed more exercise lest he trip over his thoughts and fall into some chasm of a conundrum again. Of course it would take Albite an age and a half to summarily answer his question, or get to his own point, or put out enough garbage that he could finally dig down to something of substance. In the interim, Faustite carried the loaded tray over to the coffee table and set it before the spurious boys.
By the time Albite got to the matter at hand, Faustite thought Heliodor looked like he wanted to be struck down by lightning. Or perhaps that he'd ask for a one-way ticket to the Rift, for any gruesome death was better than one at the hands of Albite's incessant airing of matters. He could understand that pain; it was bad enough that Albite was allowed to run his mouth for so damn long.
Maybe the tea would buy them time enough to have their own thoughts for a moment. Faustite plucked his mug off the tray, added a cube of sugar, poured some cream into it. Stirred until he saw a healthy, warm tan looking back at him in the cup.
He crossed his legs, took a sip as he studied the pair. This was far from any problem that he expected the pair to drag to his doorstep. It wasn't asking Faustite to go do friend-things with Heliodor, either, but maybe the boy needed more time for that.
Ah, there it was. Albite talked himself into worry lines again. Worried all over about his performance, even as Heliodor tried to reassure him. And Heliodor's trepidation was finally admitted aloud. All this preamble, showing up in his home unannounced, looking like he was about to admit to wanting to join the White Moon, for this? The pair deserved to stew in their feelings for a minute, he decided.
After setting down his tea, he gave a nod toward Heliodor while searching Albite's gaze for recognition. What he signed next was meant for Aelius.
You can tell him it was bad, and he gave an asymmetrical shrug for it. He hasn't learned any new tricks in a while.
And you, he pointed to Albite. Tell him how wounded I am. Play it up. Might perish of my own despondency.
Then he sipped his tea and waited for the show's climax.
***
He was a bass fisherman’s wet dream, the way he gaped; open mouthed and wide eyed as he caught Faustites words. There Aelius was, in turmoil at his side, yes, and there he was; sat next to said Eternal and having his own internalized mini-crisis of faith.
He couldn’t quite remember when he’d last — had it been before May? Had it been Eros? No — did Adam count? Probably didn’t the way he’d just laid there for the man and—
“You can tell me if it was bad, Aelius.” Said as if from a distance before he shook himself back into the present like a dog. His hand snaking out to snatch the coiled ropes that made up the ties around Aelius' slender waist. To hold fast those thick, blue, silken knots that kept all those layers together and protected some small bit of Heliodore’s modesty. “He said— And really, you can! It’d be fine if you did, I like the feedback! But—“
“He said that I haven’t learned any new tricks in awhile, and that’s kinda true? Ohmygosh is that true! *Eion—*” the sound of a shattering lightbulb, however much a figment of his own imagination, the way he looked at his husband aghast because of course the man afire would know those facts most intimately! From the second Ei’d come back from his own mission till now—
One look at Aelius’s hidden face and bent form confirmed it, that the man couldn’t even look him in the eyes! Bright red and seeming ready to dance out the door and into the nearest greedy youmas maw…
“N’he’s wounded Aelius, ********, deeply.” And what the ******** was that last word?! Albite blinked, shook Aelius slightly, tightened his hold until he could feel the fabric creak beneath his nails.
“Just — take a look at his face? Yeah? Poor b*****d might perish n’ die on the spot—“ softer still and nearer, using the bit of leverage he had to lean nearer to where Aelius was sat with him. To put those words next to the boys ear, while begging with auric fierceness for Aelius to lift his head up and watch.
To just – to watch their precious b*****d of a husband have his tea and drink it slowly, while speaking those words like butter wouldn’t melt in his hands or burn into a sizzling mess on his vicious, razored tongue. That he loved Ei in spite of himself? That Ei was being playful with them? With ******** Aelius, at least by Warus own standards! Apparently he had some things of his own to work on — if his performance had gotten stale?! But that was his own personal issue to tackle head first and later on – Aelius’s? An issue that needn’t be, that could be swallowed still hot and diffused with time and patience. With a little bit of gentle ribbing and persuasiveness.
***
Aelius couldn’t help but let loose a huff of a chuckle into his hands. Waru was still stuck on his performance? While they were here to tell Faustite they’d gone behind his back and slept together? The priorities of the man were…
The train of thought pulled to an abrupt halt as he felt that tug on his fuku. The words “He said--” Oh. Ok. This wasn’t Albite talking.
Oh wait. No. It was a mix of the two. Instead the words were a blend of Faustite’s statement and Waru’s internal dialogue. Poor Albite seemed to be getting his own rebuke, and the man sounded incredulous and shocked. Like some world-shattering realization had settled over him like a cloak, snuffing out some of that bedroom confidence that Aelius had only recently gotten to experience. A small taste that Helio hoped didn’t remain a sampler platter. He reached out one of his hands, and rested it on the other Eternal’s thigh. Giving a soft squeeze in comfort.
As Albite continued in his explanation of the situation, Helio instantly felt worse as he realized where his mind had trailed to in that moment. Wounded? Deeply? The hand he’d just placed on Waru’s thigh to reassure the man fisted.
He could feel Albite tugging more. Shaking him to gain his attention. Words slipped ever closer to his ear and Albite’s breath caused purple teases to tickle. It was then that something clicked and Helio’s head snapped up, eyes locking on the boy whom he had been so worried about hurting. Faustite stood there leaning against the counter, looking anything but hurt. In fact, he appeared relaxed. Unperturbed in the slightest. Eyes wide, it took a moment for all of it to sink in fully. After all, he had himself set up for the worst imaginable outcome. Another blow up, or at most, Faustite telling them both off and storming out. But, this? So calm and…almost uninterested? No. Not uninterested, but certainly not wounded in any sense as he sat there sipping at his tea.
The tension in his body eeked away all at once leaving behind a sense of exhaustion as the boy slumped back, letting himself lean against both the back of the couch and Albite. His head rolled back to the back of the couch and he just laughed softly at himself. “Why am I like this?” He groaned out. “I honestly thought you were going to be upset.” A huff of breath and he lifted his head again to look at the boy.
As he sat there watching Faustite in all of his fiery, content glory, it occurred to him in a rush that what he had just done, by blocking his view of the boy, did little in helping with the conversation. A mess of emotions and he let himself effectively block Faustite’s means of communication beyond physically asserting himself. Instead, Waru had done what he needed to pull the idiotic corrupt back from the little pit of despair he’d built to stick his head into. “I am sorry. I promised you I’d sit and talk about things and here I was too lost in my own thoughts. Again.” Straightening himself up a bit, he attempted to recompose himself. It was then that he reached down to check the ropes that Albite had been clung to to see if they had been left intact or not. He shot the man beside him a look..
***
Albite fell for such a roast instantly. Faustite almost felt bad for it — the boy was as easy a target as one could find, and having him on was a touch unfair because of it. But he could take a good ribbing, mull it over, perhaps gain some beneficial skills out of it for all of them. See if the boy could still learn, after all.
Played along marvelously, he did, Aelius took him up on it in all seriousness, too, perhaps assuming that Albite couldn't possibly set him up. Certainly not in that moment, not with their intimate little secret aired. Faustite watched the turn of emotions evolve in Heliodor's face while he sipped his tea. Scored a bit of a laugh out of Heliodor, too. Rare that he ever laughed anymore; Faustite almost forgot the sound of it.
He stared into his drink momentarily, then set it beside him on the stone bench. His signs were still angled for Waru as the involuntary translator. Perhaps you thought you'd be upset if you were in my position.
Think it means more this way. Waru's no caged bird. He's free to fly where he wants. He always chooses to return. So do you.
He finished his tea with a last sizzling pull, feeling deprived for the simple fact that the cup was empty already. There were two other boys present, however, and at least one of those boys lived with him full-time. Unfortunately, if that boy fetched him more tea, then he would lose his translator.
Best to wait, then.
Was that all this was about? He signed to Albite, appraising him inquisitively.
***
The rope was actually really kinda thick, wasn’t it? He’d been so bewitched by watching Helio ******** with it so many nights before, the way the man had unwound himself from it and the layers beneath, the way they’d peeled off like petals fluffed around a budding stem; left little silken draperies behind. Heh, the idea that Helio was secretly an onion? A pretty onion! But an onion nonetheless….
Blinking for Helio’s words, laughing at himself as much as the man beside him, because ******** did they sound familiar to his own ears. “I ask myself that all the ********’ time Aelius, just – seriously? If ever there was an answer to that damn ‘why’ – I couldn’t tell ya even now. Maybe together we’ll find it.” He liked the Eternals hand on his thigh right where it was, even as he continued to fidget with the thick blue – ******** it, he’d keep calling it a rope for now – the way everything had a name and he couldn’t quite be bothered enough to learn the sort of things he’d forget later. His cavernous storage space of a mind held the one drawer, with the one file cabinet in it, and in that cabinet were all things devoted to people and their care.
“Ohn–hmm…He says…” he made sure to preface himself this time, with careful pause, a little spark of ah hah! & enlightenment all over his face as he slowly dragged Heliodore’s rope free of knot he’d loosened with all his attempts to get the man's attention firmly.
“....Or no, he wants t’know? Heh, if you’d be upset if you were him – if you thought he would be? N’maybe you would. But us – this? It means more this way. ‘Waru’ – he means me – isn’t a caged bird,” and ******** if the sign for that one wasn’t his favorite, cute, meaningful. Easy to remember as baby chicks chirping in the morning, shoved into a small box all meshed with fingers and wire. The way his smile came loose and easy – because he felt like he could hear Faustite saying the words in his head. “He’s free range – that being me – I always chooses to return.”
“And so do you.”
It felt important to put pressure on those words, to make sure Aelius heard them directed his way. He wasn’t sure what sound he made after, some soft aweh of a thing, the way he found it sweetly distracting enough to stop fiddling with coiling up the ends of blue between his own thick fingers.
“Was that all? Oh! That’s for me – <******** – no, or – maybe? I’ve been wanting t’see you Ei, just becasue – wanted you two t’spend time t’gether no matter what. Kindah like – a bit of a check in, yanno?” he took to looking thoughtful for a moment, to the table, to the drinks to the way Faustites cup ran empty and he had an urge to just – collar Aelius up and dump him in their friend/husbands lap. To go commit himself to tasks while the pair got cozy and learned some basic signs together….
“Cause I wasn’t the one worried, but it was really ******** sweet the way Aelius was.” There was also the thought of Bioluminesca, all the ways he didn’t want to bring his resolved failings up anymore than he wanted to stick his d**k in a beehive, no matter what substance he chose to cover it in. He thought he’d stung and been stung enough–
“N’less? Aelius! Is there anything you wanna put on the table? Any laps you wanna sit on—wow you really do blush all the way down your neckline huh…s’pretty…almost deeper n’Ei…when he does…”
***
It was starting to feel as if some game was being played, and Heliodor had been dragged along for the fun of it. Both Albite and Faustite seemed to be enjoying the turmoil he’d put himself through the past days worrying incessantly over the confession. It stung in a way that he couldn’t lay a finger on. Like the concept of the hurt was abstract, less tangible, but there none-the-less. “Yes. I would.” He stated, flatly, removing his hand from its comforting position on Albite’s leg to grab at the now fully untied rope around his waist. “Unlike you both, this is all new to me. I am trying to sort through it all and it almost feels as if you both find it amusing.”
He stood up, letting the rope fall from his waist along with the golden sash that lay just beneath it. Bending over, he gathered both up as they fell to the floor, letting his robes fall open fully revealing the black base layer of his fuku that sat against him like a second skin. “Is it wrong of me? To be worried about either of you? To be so damn jealous of others you're with? I may keep coming back, but I’ve no confidence you would come back to me. Either of you.” Fists whitened on the rope and wrinkled the fabric of his sash but notice wasn’t taken to the abuse. By that point Helio was now more frustrated at himself for getting worked up. The ‘why’ indeed. Perhaps chasing after it wasn’t worth the effort, but gods, he hated being so quick to trigger emotionally.
“I worry because I care.” A moment passed. Helio took a breath as he walked past Faustite, nabbing the cup the boy had been drinking from along the way as he proceeded to the kettle where the water still sat hot and waiting. The removed parts of his fuku he left sitting on the counter discarded for the time being since he couldn’t be bothered to put them back on.
Pouring the new cup of water and replacing the tea bag with a fresh one kept Helio quiet as Faustite and Waru spoke. Golden eye’s honed in on Albite as the other corrupt mentioned tables and laps. Eyes squinted with an audible -tsk. “All three of us are here. Don’t go running off. We should all spend some time together.” The cup was a bit full. He hadn’t been paying close attention when he’d poured it, listening instead to one side of the conversation behind him. Thank goodness Albite was translating out of habit, letting Helio follow along easy enough.
Silken robes flowed behind him as he moved with well practiced grace to return the cup to Faustite without a spilled drop. Perhaps once the tea bag was removed the vessel would better accommodate cream. With his hands free of Faustite’s drink, Aelius made for the one prepared for him. He placed some sugar into the mug and neglected the carafe that would lighten his drink. Black was best, especially when he needed some bracing against his own whiplash of emotions. “We can make some future plans to hang out. Just the two of us?” He questioned after taking a sip of the warm liquid.
***
Faustite listened, watching Aelius with flame eyes while the boy began his emigration away from Albite. His demeanor slowly tightened up — back straightening gradually, muscles in his arms beginning to engage while Aelius walked by him, going on with venom in his voice. Faustite's attention did not track him back into the kitchen.
Instead, it fell on Albite once more, and his expression shifted subtly while Aelius kept at his animosity. His distrust. His disdain. Faustite's jaw tightened, fingers flexed into fists. His flame curled and licked voraciously at its cage. He raised his hands up as if to sign, but they trembled so terribly that he thought better of it. Instead, he made a quick gesture of a flat hand passing over his head. Smoke began to stream from his nose with every breath.
He hated feeling misunderstood. Hated all the more that he lacked ready access to words to refute Aelius's poor faith arguments. That any time he wished to speak, he needed to use his hands, needed to use an imperfect interpreter that was once a comfort and now an albatross. Even Albite could not soften his language enough that Heliodor could think to take his expressions as something reverent, instead something mocking and condescending. There was no being with someone like that.
And that he had the nerve to say Don't go running off —
Lips peeling back into a snarl, one of Faustite's fists glowed a brilliant orange as if magma was borne through its veins. He reeled it back and slammed it into the stone bench upon which he sat, pounding it with enough force that it cracked and gave under his weight. Suddenly he dropped onto the floor where fragments of the bench had broken off and crumbled. He felt his own humiliation, then, infiltrating his face. Worsening his heat as he seethed with unspoken fury.
That he had the gall to make small talk afterward. That he could pretend to have his last word and hand off Faustite's tea as if that would mitigate the vexing litany of misunderstandings that he propagated into the shared space. Faustite could spit fire for it, yet he was expected to settle for this anemic sign language to reinforce his point —<******** this, he tried to sign to Albite, but one hand refrained from straightening out. At a glance, he realized he bled from the knuckles. Only dimly was he aware of any pain.
He stood at once, resummoning his uniform in full, and paced briskly toward the bathroom.
***
‘It’s going so well—’
His final thought as a switch tripped —
It felt like it happened in slow motion, just out of his periphery; the shift in body language like the building undercurrent to a storm, the subtleties he’d missed while watching Aelius busy himself, while soaking up the others' words. He’d wanted to live in them for a while, to stew in the bluenettes' meaning while dissecting his own behaviors over the last few days...
His own response quickly became a scattered loss as the obviousness of things going wrong was suddenly in his face. Explosively. The fallout filled with abortive gestures that held no discernible meaning, but he thought he grasped the jist of what Faustite might have been trying to say at the end—
It sounded like ruin, and rage, and curses, and he couldn’t tell if he’d ******** up? Or if it’d been something said? Something not said?
His gaze snapping from Faustite armoring himself against them, storming off, over to poor Heliodore. The other man seemed to startle so badly where he stood that his coffee quickly joined the bench’s remains; a cascade of sugared black and stonework that came apart like a puzzle punched by a hurricane.
“Damn…” emphatic and thick, Waru winced while uttering the first thing that came to mind. Like daubing a bit of oil off some watery surface. “And I liked that bench, too.” It was a truth, it was time buying, it was – a waste of air and he was standing before a second, more useless thought came to dislodge the first. His long stride carrying him in a step to Aelius’s side his gaze rapidly sweeping the man, checking him the once over.
‘Such a ******** shame. It’d been going so ******** clean any of that up. Don’t go.” And he would echo Heliodore’s words back at him in partial, would offer some fractal smile that seemed off beneath eyes pinched at the corners with worry, the way he moved to touch—
Because Heliodore looked beautiful undone, robes flowing, offering up service like it was his second nature. A task completed with precise movements and with inborn ease. He wondered how many times Helio had done this before over the years? Prepared Faustites tea, delivered it to him with poise, watched everything shatter. How many times something Helio had said (had not said?) had chipped at some nick in what otherwise looked solid to the world. The bench's remains proved how solid Eion was — the blood that coated them – ever so slightly – just how easily he could wound and be wounded.
“Gimme just– five seconds, kay? Love you – mm’ah be right back!” Quick hisst of half promises that he said with more confidence than he actually held. As if he somehow had this when he had naught ******** at all. Reaching out finally to squeeze the gentle dancer's shoulder; firm, and warm, and reassuring as he could try to be.
Before clocking where Faustite had hastened off to…
He tried not to say anything as he approached the bathroom door. He didn't think he needed to. Never unaware of exactly how loud he was even when he wasn’t trying to be. Especially like this; all swishing sashes, heavily heeled steps, and tipped dreads that heralded his own goddamn entrance like superhero music and dragged metallic warnings. The hilarious idea that his head could’ve doubled as both windchime and didgeridoo if it ever became separated from his own ******** it.
Whatever he’d missed before? He wanted to try and see it now. To glean what he’d missed before with his lapsing attention as he hedged up on Faustites presence — stepping through the smattering of sparse, dark droplets that were left in the wake of that path.
‘Awh, Ei…’
***
The hot coffee scalded his hand when he jumped from the abrupt reaction from Faustite. The result was him dropping the mug and having it splatter and break at his feet. While wiping his offended hand in his robe he moved as if to help Faustite up before remembering what that would mean for him. He stopped his approach and stood there, watching with confusion as the boy General recovered himself and left the room. Helio just stared after, unsure whether to follow, stay put, or…
Albite was there then. His touch was like an anchor to a ship, mooring Helio to weather out the storm. A deep breath taken as he nodded in understanding. A promise to himself, Albite and Faustite to not dart off like a ghost. He could…would do it. Needed to. And if his determination wasn’t enough, Albite sealed the deal with two small words that had been so unexpected and tossed out as if they were normal exchanges between the two men. So quick and honest…
Like a wind ushered him away, Albite disappeared in pursuit of Faustite leaving Helio to his own devices. He looked down at the floor and then himself. The sleeve of his robes were soaked and stained from the black liquid. A few drops fell from the bead at the end of the sleeve, profusely stating how moist the fabric was. With a sigh, Helio slipped out of the robes, folding them up haphazardly to join his belt on the counter. Left now in his base layer of all black, half sleeves covering his arms from mid biceps down. He’d never not had the robes on. Without them he felt more free in his movements as he ignored one of Albite’s requests and began gathering up the shards of broken mug.
The bits of ceramic were deposited in the trash and a tea towel gathered to clean up the remaining mess. It didn’t take long and the corrupt was left wishing it had taken longer. Albite and Faustite had not returned yet. He looked to the stone bench and contemplated starting to clean that up as well. He stared at the few flecks of black blood on grey stone and winced. It would be easier with help. Broom and a bag on it’s side would be easiest but Aelius wasn’t going to be able to finagle that alone. Plus, a heavy emotion finally settled over him like a cloak. So, instead, he retreated to the couch. There he nestled into a corner looking anything but comfortable as he sat and replayed everything in his mind, trying to understand what it was precisely that could have set Faustite off.
He was at a loss cause what he had said was all coming from a place of truth. He hadn’t been accusatory, had he? Maybe it came off that way? <********> Why was it starting to feel like he couldn’t say anything without fear of retribution? Couldn’t speak about how he felt or thought? What did Faustite want from him?
He groaned and rubbed at his face with both hands, reddening his nose and cheeks for the vigor of the movement.
