[ the unfortunate thing about this is that digging his fingers in feels good. they're so close that it's impossible for therion to miss the way his tail wriggles a bit when therion really gets in there at his scalp, the way his shoulders ease down from his ears. the two of them haven't ever been gentle, so why start now, right? it's not like jiaoqiu deserves any sort of softness, anyway.
and thankfully, therion cuts him off. that works, that definitely works. he lets out a shivery little breath, and then does, in fact, lean down to let therion keep working.
absently, he opens the bottle he's holding so that he can busy himself with washing his tail. he pulls it around himself and thoroughly picks all the mud and grime out of it, head tilted at a weird angle to let therion get at his hair. he could've sat down for this it would've made his life so much easier, but now he's dedicated to this because he's flustered.
somewhere in the middle of this, he absently reaches from his tail to therion, running his fingers over whatever he can reach. kind of like he's making sure that he's real. ]
[ not the tailwag... cute.... thats me, not therion. therion passingly notices it but he's in his own head enough that he doesn't say anything about it. there's something sort of methodical about helping someone else wash their hair, and though he's fairly mechanical about doing it, that doesn't mean that he's not careful. he avoids his ears to keep from fucking them up, because he does not even begin to understand how fur care works but can get the sense that he probably shouldn't get shampoo in there, but otherwise massages his fingers into his scalp and runs the soap through his long hair. thorough.
he's not really expecting to be touched. his arm's right there since he's reached up - his skin's hot from the too hot shower, but it still pebbles up into surprised goosebumps at the awfully delicate stroke of his fingers. prickly, as usual, and a firm reminder that this is brand new territory, to just be - touched, casually, in a way that isn't in harm. god. it makes something squirmy curl up in his stomach and therion determinedly ignores it, embarrassed at himself and mad at himself both for having an Emotion as he gives another light tug of his hair. ]
Rinse.
[ there. god. he goes to stick his hands under the spray and clean them off so he's got something to do. a ]
[ by the end of it at least he smells really good! it's probably something faintly floral, maybe even something incense-y. whatever it is, it's much better than the mud and nasty wet fur smell, and he's like, thoroughly clean, thanks to therion. he will rinse.
and once he's done, kind of just like... instinctively, he rests a hand on therion's side, petting him. part of him says he should reward therion for helping him by dropping to his knees, but - he thinks about therion batting his hands away earlier. a pause, and then instead, he slides a little closer and just. gives therion a hug? doesn't say a word. just hugs him, and fully expects therion to freeze up or push him or yell. that's okay.
if he's going to be indulgent he might as well just be indulgent. tomorrow he'll go back to normal, and none of this will have been real. ]
[ jiaoqiu's read on therion is right more often than not, in that the hug does surprise him. he does tense up at first, hands uselessly curling in the air behind his back for a second as he process what's actually happening. has he ever been hugged? not really, not beyond the occasional companionable arm thrown over his shoulder, but that was a long, long time ago.
and this, this is different than that. this is something - tender. this feels like a gesture of... gratitude? a gesture of need? the way he reaches out to pet him, the way he reached out to touch his arm, all of these little, surprising gestures have stitched together enough that he should have expected this. and yet! it throws him off guard enough that he stands there, stupidly, cheeks pink from the water and from something else entirely, traitor heart thudding hard in his chest. and eventually. so, so slowly, he sets either of his hands on his back and looks over his shoulder, staring at the wall and unsure how to even function properly in this moment. he's not exactly made for comfort.
(and it's not... bad, it's not - there's some part of him that wants to crawl into this and hold on tight, but he's not even aware of it.)
but still, he thinks of that off planet behavior from before, and how it's finally started to settle. and slowly, he plunks his forehead, just so, against his shoulder, and mumbles: ]
...water's gonna get cold.
[ probably not the reception you want from getting a hug, but the fact that he didn't absolutely sprint the other way is a deeply positive sign, so, that's just going to have to be enough. unfortunately he is awkward. ]
[ it's a little of both, gratitude and need, though jiaoqiu doesn't quite register it as something he needs. he does, but it's so very hard to even think of himself as something that has the ability to have desires. he reaches for therion because he does not think therion has had physical contact that is nice in a long time, and he thinks that if he were someone who could want things, that'd be something high on his list. they have both used each other for roughness so much that even someone blind could see it's a replacement for kindness.
even past that, though, he's a healer. healing comes in a lot of ways, and sometimes it isn't food or medicine that fixes things. it is in his nature to give, even when he can't pull together the effort for himself. like if he could get the knife just a little further into the jar, scrape the last little bit of substance out. don't waste it, now. use everything you're given. there's still some use before you recycle it.
he's wandering again, he thinks. so when therion settles, jiaoqiu hums, dragging a warm palm up therion's back and resting it there. this is good. this is good enough, and he is content. ]
It stays warm for a surprisingly long time. [ is his answer. but, after a moment, he pulls away, and he's got that placid smile on again, but. he's not lifeless. there's color in his cheeks and he's present. ]
Thank you. We can get out. I wouldn't have you suffer wet fur smell any longer than necessary.
[ threateningly waves his tail again like he's gonna smack him with it ]
[ yeah, yeah it is kind of nice, even if it makes therion feel like he's absolutely going to buzz out of his skin. he's caught between knowing that this is a bad idea and desperately wanting to lean into it. constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, one way or another. nothing nice can stay. not when you don't deserve it. not when all you've ever done is steal it. it will stab you in the back when you're least expecting it.
though, this...whatever this is between them isn't necessarily all that sweet. this moment is an anomaly, a strange, out of time moment as jiaoqiu was out of time just barely half an hour ago. it'll go back to normal when this is over, and it'll ... be fine. it'll be fine. he's not placed his trust here. not yet. (or, well. he has, in some ways, but he's not looking it directly in the eyes.) the warm palm up his back makes him want to desperately lean into it and run away as fast as possible all at the same time, and though he doesn't exactly relax, there's a tiny, subtle shiver when he runs his hand up his back like that.
it's something of a relief when jiaoqiu pulls away, as he dips out of the way of the tail wave and out of his immediate reach, slippery as a snake, stepping out of the tub as he pulls the curtain back. ]
One of these days, karma's going to spray you with a skunk.
[ rude? but there's zero heat. therion is soaking wet even if he wasn't that far underneath the water, his hair plastered to his face, and he plucks up a towel off the rack and toses it at jiaoqiu, and then uses the other to towel himself off. ruffling it over his face, jiaoqiu can just see the point of something discolored underneath his long bang, and then it's gone again, covered by cloth and hair alike. he feels... weird. good? reassured? terrified? it's a complicated and messy tangle of something or other that he keeps off of his face for now, frowning underneath the terrycloth to himself to keep his usual, cool guy composure. ]
[ there's a huffy little laugh from jiaoqiu as therion climbs out of the tub.
he takes the towel when it is tossed at him, and starts drying himself off. these are heavy duty towels, because he's got so much fucking fur, so they take forever to get actually wet. super absorbent. as he's doing this, he catches that little discoloration under his bangs, and pauses. doesn't mention it, because he's sure therion doesn't want to talk about it, but... there's that little twisty feeling again. he thinks about strays. he thinks about feeding the cats and dogs in the neighborhood, about leaving meals three times a day for them. thinks about the way most of them hissed or growled at him if he got close.
he thinks about another man in purple who refused to open his mouth. and he feels like drifting again, but he stops himself. takes a deep breath, and steps carefully out of the tub after therion. ]
Will you borrow some of my clothing? You're welcome to wander the apartment in your underwear, but it may be a little cold. [ casually. like he doesn't want to bundle therion in blankets and feed him soup. he's so skinny, it gives jiaoqiu agita. ]
he absolutely does not want to talk about it, no! in fact, if there's anything that therion gets extremely cagey about, it's the hidden side of his face. anytime jiaoqiu's hands have wandered too close to it when they're fooling around, he's ducked out of the way, whether it was on accident or otherwise. that's part of what it means, to earn his trust - not to pry. slowly but surely, it's working. bit by bit, he finds his way to those metaphorical meals (or not so metaphorical. he's noticed that jiaoqiu makes food that he likes to eat. he's pretty sure it's on purpose.)
as he pulls the towel away from his puffed up, fluffy hair - as fluffy as a dandelion, after all that toweling - he tosses the towel over the rack to dry it. by the time he's reaching for his dirty, ratty sweatshirt, he's addressed again, and he glances over at him for a long moment, then back at his shirt. it is damp... ]
... Sure, whatever. [ he guesses. at least until his dries properly. wet like this, he looks especially scrawny, all scars and thin muscle, surely making that agita worse (sorry) and he rolls his shoulders back, and then steps out of the room. it's not like he doesn't know where jiaoqiu's bedroom is at this point, so he pads silently away to go poke through his drawers.
he pokes around until he finds something comfortable looking for jiaoqiu, and then just. looks at his pants collection, gives up - he is both short AND lacking a tail - and just pulls out a big long sleeved shirt of some kind in a neutral color, and throws it on over his head. it comes down midway to his thighs. small guy life.
he returns a couple minutes later, and pushes a pile of warm, clean clothes into jiaoqiu's hands if he's still standing in the bathroom. like a cat, bringing objects. here. fetch good. ]
jiaoqiu looks amused at the way his hair fluffs. he really wants to reach to touch it, but he doesn't. instead, he does a good, through job of drying himself off, and by the time therion comes back, he's brushed his fangies, and is in the process of brushing his tail out in long, even strokes. therion might actually catch him looking vaguely annoyed because his fur is tangled and less shiny than normal, and he's realizing that he's probably been too flippant about taking care of it lately. bluh.
he puts the brush down just fast enough to take the fetched objects, ear flicking. clothes! a beat, as he takes in the way therion looks wearing his shirt. scrawny, scarred, small - malnutritioned, but warm and dry and out of the rain, in the middle of jiaoqiu's apartment, with him. that gets something horrible and wrenching to wake up in his chest, and just for a second, he has to turn and busy himself with sorting through his clothes because he can't breathe. he does a decent job of hiding it, at least. it's just - it's nice. it's a little domestic, it's a little giving, and it's the kind of thing that'd make him cough up flower petals in another universe. something this nice shouldn't hurt so much, he thinks.
jiaoqiu swallows hard. and then starts pulling on the comfortable clothes. ]
Thank you.
[ he can manage that much. and then: ] Go look in the refrigerator and tell me what ingredients inside it that you would like to eat. I'll make us a meal.
the shirt's not bad, at least. he doesn't particularly care about his state of dress, particularly since jiaoqiu has seen him naked already plenty of times, so he just kind of rolls the sleeves up so they aren't falling down his hands the entire time and shrugs at the thank you. whatever, no big deal, then staring at him for a minute, like... he's making sure he's all there, maybe, or that he's scrutinizing him, or god only knows what else.
... and after a moment, therion nods. it feels safer than actually saying anything, because he's still feeling very skittish in the face of all the. Emotions that happened this afternoon, and then waves a hand over his shoulder as he starts to turn back towards the kitchen. casually, calling out over his shoulder: ] Are you going to have a bunch of weird shit in there again?
[ therion fancy food is not weird shit. one time there was a whole ass fish. what does he know. ]
[ he's all here! in fact, the fact that he is all here is the problem! he is Too Here and he doesn't know how to handle it very well.
he's not skittish, at least. therion is, and he can sense a little of it, so he's being careful. but jiaoqiu himself is more unsure, in a way he isn't used to being. there are footsteps he can hear in the apartment above him. someone down the line of the fourth floor is vacuuming. the rain is still pouring outside, beating against the tiny window above his tub. his clothes feel a little too restrictive, but he refuses to cook without a shirt on, so he just suffers it. at least it's a short sleeve. he can deal with that. ]
Fish is not weird shit, little wolf.
[ he calls after therion, absently, picking up his brush to finish working the knots out of his tail. a beat. hm. that nickname slipped out. but he's not taking it back, so... okay! sure!
after a moment, when he's sure he isn't going to have a meltdown, he will make his way out to the kitchen. he makes sure his footsteps are loud, so he doesn't startle, and when he comes up to therion, he rests a hand on therion's lower back. a casual touch, something grounding. he is maybe a bit more touchy than normal, but he desperately needs to keep his head from wandering, and physical touch is the only thing that's doing it for him, so. ]
What do you think? Bear in mind that I will be adding chili oil to whatever you choose.
[ oh. a nickname. that kind of startles him? if he was a cat, he'd be all poofed up - luckily, he's in the kitchen when the name comes, so he just kind of startles and pauses, doing a double take at the fridge. little wolf, huh. there's a beat. ]
...It still had its eyeballs.
[ and...ultimately, he goes with a response, a little late, because in terms of nicknames, it could be worse. he could go without the little part, but, whatever. therion resumes going through the fridge. he is deeply unaware of any of the meanings of his name because he cannot read (no) because he just never thought about it, so he writes it off as edgy enough that its acceptable and decides not to think about what kind of familiarity can come with a nickname, before it sends him off into a spiral and straight out the window and as far away from this apartment as humanly possible.
he's leaning into the fridge by the time jiaoqiu gets out into the main room, letting the blast of the cold air brace him, staring at the contents inside. he hears him coming miles before jiaoqiu probably even realizes, too used to attuning himself to the sounds of others, too alert, too watchful, and he can feel him coming close to his space and straightens up from what he's looking at.
which is when the hand lands on his back. therion stills, again - maybe he always will. but a beat goes by. one second, two. and then he kind of relaxes or... at least he leans into it a little bit, quietly accepting as he looks. ]
Beats me. [ useless ] I'm not that hungry.
[ ok. he might be a little bit, but he's saying this A) to retain his dignity and B) because he thinks it might rile jiaoqiu a little. he always gets so fussy. naggy. annoying. (it's kind of nice.) ]
[ okay, mr. furball, nicknames are fair game when you started it!!!
anyway. this wolf is better than the ones he's encountered in the past. this one only bites him when he asks, and this one pulls him out of his daydreams instead of making them worse. and maybe most importantly, this one knows how to rile him up in a way that doesn't hurt. jiaoqiu doesn't remove his hand from therion's back, and doesn't press too hard, just easy and warm. and when therion speaks, his tail waves back and forth like it does when he's agitated or impatient. ]
You should be. You're far too skinny. [ grumbles. and nags him, because therion is right, he's fussy about how much therion eats. ] And I would wager a guess that you have not eaten today.
[ which is fine, because jiaoqiu hasn't either. he slides his hand up therion's back gently, and then pulls away from him so that he can peer into the fridge as well, starting to pull ingredients out. there probably is some weird shit in there, but also? there's a whole bag of apples, and a tupperware container of sliced ones with homemade caramel. ]
Hm... meat skewers, I think. With roasted vegetables and a side of rice. And sauce to dip all of it in, of course. Is that simple enough for your palette? Will you eat vegetables if I prepare them?
[ hah, there he goes. yeah. therion rolls his eyes, but internally, he's a little amused. ]
I'm not four.
[ tch!!! he'll eat his vegetables! jiaoqiu has probably noticed by now that he usually finishes his plates when they're put in front of him. there's not really any room to be picky, and though he has no trouble lifting himself enough cash for a meal (or the meal itself) nowadays, old childhood habits tend to die hard. and he's used to jiaoqiu's particular brand of cooking, as spicy as it is, so he'll especially eat whatever he feeds him, now that he's sure it's safe to. so.
as for the rest. the hand sliding up his back is not. unwelcome, though he sort of tenses a little initially, just like always, and tries to pretend it doesn't make the hair on the back of his neck stand up, easily resists the urge to lean back into it, even if its there. its the combination of that and staring at the tupperware container in the fridge, because he knows that's not just there because jiaoqiu got a craving. when did he do that? how long has it been sitting there? when was the last time he came by to visit? guilt and something more dangerous flutter up into his throat, and he swallows them back, patting the fridge where he's resting on it and pulling back and away. ]
Do whatever you want. [ which jiaoqiu surely knows by now is therion for "yes". that's thing. he's learning how to be known. ]
[ this works. he's gotten used to the push and pull. it's comfortable. it's easier than letting himself think about the warmth of therion against his back, grounding him as the water soaked into his fur and got in his ears. he lets therion pull away, and gets further into the fridge, gathering ingredients.
idly, mock-scolding: ]
Mind your manners, or I'll be enlisting you to help prepare the meal.
[ which is a little bit of an invitation. if he'd like to help, he can. he doesn't have to - he can go curl up and hang out in jiaoqiu's lame armchair.
he also says this as he puts the ingredients out on the counter and pulls out a very sharp knife from the drawer. ]
[ sassy!!! and for what!! there's a brief, amused little smirk, something very genuine, but he considers this threat/offer. and after a moment, he decides to hop up on the counter instead, planting his bony butt here in his space like a cat.
he'll do kitchen stuff if jiaoqiu hands it to him, but for now, he's going to sit here like he owns the place, and... watch him, with that knife. watch the skill and care that goes into something like that - cutting vegetables, cutting pills, methodical and so different from the way therion wields a switchblade. so different from the way they met, where it was therion with the knife, a skittish animal ready to bite at any minute. ]
[ it's second nature, the way he holds the knife. like an extension of himself - the way therion does too, he's sure. different, maybe. the function is different, but the end result is often the same. they both use the knife to live.
there's a little tch sound that jiaoqiu lets out when therion hops up on the counter. ]
You are dirtying my work space. [ he keeps nagging, because he knows therion is doing it on purpose, and because he likes this, likes being annoyed and annoying right back. ] How am I supposed to cook when your germs are all over my counter, hm?
[ very gently thwacks him with the hilt of his knife. yes, he does a little twirly motion so he can hold the blade of it in order to do so. he doesn't cut himself. he's well practiced, and he telegraphs his movement very obviously, allowing for therion to see that it's the hilt that is going to whap at his wrist and not the blade.
he twirls the knife back, and starts using it to cut vegetables, eat flicking. it's a marked difference from the way he was sitting in front of the graves. ]
[ see he finds this attractive, which says a lot about the kind of person that he is. the skill and dexterity it takes for jiaoqiu to turn that knife is expertise. being able not to hurt yourself is skill. (but on the other hand - it just means you get more skilled with a different weapon. it doesn't have to be the edge of a knife. it can be days of not eating, a life of existing in nothing. he's familiar with those skills, too.)
therion doesn't say anything, but there's something appreciative in his visible eye, briefly, even after he's been smacked. (and frankly, the fact he doesn't immediately jolt away is such a testament to the amount of tentative trust he's built to jiaoqiu that not even a brief, sour look could hide it.) after the prerequisite bitching, of course, where he swats at his hand automatically and grouses: ] Show you germs on the counter.
[ he probably has but that's beside the point. anyway whatever else he was going to stay is silenced as he is just. handed a potato? he stares at it. he stares at jiaoqiu, giving him a very pointed look. and you know what? you know what?
he shrugs, and reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his switchblade, casually flipping it open and starting a mental countdown to how long it takes jiaoqiu to flip his metaphorical lid (to react, to react) over therion just using his switchblade he uses to occasionally stab people to peel a potato that's going in someone's mouth. ]
Germs! [ is all he manages to splutter at first, putting his knife down. okay, now you're getting thwacked with a dishtowel like he's some sort of exasperated housewife. ] Where has that knife been? Wash your hands!
[ but there's no heat to it. it's all for show - well, most of it. the huffiness is, he's serious about not using a stab knife to peel a potato, but he's not mad. he is very rarely ever really angry with therion. it's just a constant game of pulling each other's tails.
and... he is, he's reacting. he's alive. he's acting like it. crazy, to think the start of his day was catatonic. ]
[ rude!!!! he makes an undignified noise when he's swatted at! ] What did you want me to use, my teeth?
[ YOU DIDN'T GIVE HIM A PEELER!!!! anyway this was all completely on purpose, and he's a little smug at the successful pigtail pulling, finally sliding down from the counter and walking over to wash his hands, shutting the switchblade with a click and tucking it back into whatever place he keeps it on his person. in the meantime, he has to push the sleeves of the borrowed shirt up to his elbows, has to invade jiaoqiu's space to get to the sink. companionable and close, in ways that he's not been with anyone in years, in ways that he does not dare allow himself to consider for more than a second.
it's easiest like this. maybe that's what makes it successful - he doesn't have to think about it at all. ]
You're going to give this old fox white hair. [ grumble grumble.
but therion goes to wash his hands, and jiaoqiu is appeased. instinctively he shifts to make room for therion to stand, tilting his body to the side to let him close, not bothering to step away. companionable. this close, jiaoqiu can smell his shampoo on therion, can smell the mix of his own scent and therion's rubbed in against the borrowed shirt, the remains of rain. therion is right here, with him, and it's easy.
for a moment, there's something in him that wants to wreck it. there is something in him that wants to dig his teeth in and rip it to shreds, if only to remind himself that he will lose whatever nails in his feet that are keeping him pinned. but it isn't an instinct to hurt therion, and it won't ever be - it's just for a moment he considers curling his fingers around the blade of his knife again.
but he doesn't. he puts the knife down. he pulls a peeler from the drawer, hands it to therion, and leans in therion's space to bit the ridge of his ear.
and then he scoots away with a huffy little laugh, escaping to the fridge. ]
however, it's a heatless comeback, despite the sass and complaining, and therion sideeyes him for a moment as he's shaking the water from his hands. he can't shake the sight of the waif of a person settled before that grave even with a real, lively jiaoqiu sitting next to him, and as he's toweling off his hands, his mouth pulls lower into a frown. he should have just left him there. this isn't his problem. the more that he interacts with him, the more dangerously he situates himself into old habits, the more he sets himself up to be pushed off the proverbial cliff. he doesn't trust jiaoqiu, he tells himself, and yet, he finds himself in this relative moment of comfort and safety, not captured or held but staying.
scary. it rattles fear through his heart, briefly, and he entertains how quickly he can escape this situation when jiaoqiu very suddenly interrupts him with a bite to his ear - which warms to it as he jolts and claps a hand over his ear, flustering and shooting him a scowly glare before he snatches the peeler with a loud huff, then sits right back down on his counter to resume peeling the potato. a roll of the eyes after a glare, a petty comeback as opposed to a chance to flee. ]
Have you had your rabies shot recently? [ therion you're the one who needs a rabies shot. also as if he has not been bitten by jiaoqiu many, many times before. ]
his tail swishes back and forth as he digs into his fridge, and he chances a look over his shoulder at therion, who is glaring at him. he's not sure if the feeling he gets is a stomach cramp or his heart trying to handle what he's feeling, but either way it continues to hurt. he wonders if it'll ever stop, or if he'll get used to it. it has to be like exercise, right? his old bones will get used to it.
he comes back to stand next to therion, and cuts the meat. ]
You would know if I hadn't. [ he hums peacefully, glancing up at therion with a sly little smile. therion cannot escape jiaoqiu biting the shit out of him every time they sleep together. ]
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and thankfully, therion cuts him off. that works, that definitely works. he lets out a shivery little breath, and then does, in fact, lean down to let therion keep working.
absently, he opens the bottle he's holding so that he can busy himself with washing his tail. he pulls it around himself and thoroughly picks all the mud and grime out of it, head tilted at a weird angle to let therion get at his hair. he could've sat down for this it would've made his life so much easier, but now he's dedicated to this because he's flustered.
somewhere in the middle of this, he absently reaches from his tail to therion, running his fingers over whatever he can reach. kind of like he's making sure that he's real. ]
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he's not really expecting to be touched. his arm's right there since he's reached up - his skin's hot from the too hot shower, but it still pebbles up into surprised goosebumps at the awfully delicate stroke of his fingers. prickly, as usual, and a firm reminder that this is brand new territory, to just be - touched, casually, in a way that isn't in harm. god. it makes something squirmy curl up in his stomach and therion determinedly ignores it, embarrassed at himself and mad at himself both for having an Emotion as he gives another light tug of his hair. ]
Rinse.
[ there. god. he goes to stick his hands under the spray and clean them off so he's got something to do. a ]
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and once he's done, kind of just like... instinctively, he rests a hand on therion's side, petting him. part of him says he should reward therion for helping him by dropping to his knees, but - he thinks about therion batting his hands away earlier. a pause, and then instead, he slides a little closer and just. gives therion a hug? doesn't say a word. just hugs him, and fully expects therion to freeze up or push him or yell. that's okay.
if he's going to be indulgent he might as well just be indulgent. tomorrow he'll go back to normal, and none of this will have been real. ]
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and this, this is different than that. this is something - tender. this feels like a gesture of... gratitude? a gesture of need? the way he reaches out to pet him, the way he reached out to touch his arm, all of these little, surprising gestures have stitched together enough that he should have expected this. and yet! it throws him off guard enough that he stands there, stupidly, cheeks pink from the water and from something else entirely, traitor heart thudding hard in his chest. and eventually. so, so slowly, he sets either of his hands on his back and looks over his shoulder, staring at the wall and unsure how to even function properly in this moment. he's not exactly made for comfort.
(and it's not... bad, it's not - there's some part of him that wants to crawl into this and hold on tight, but he's not even aware of it.)
but still, he thinks of that off planet behavior from before, and how it's finally started to settle. and slowly, he plunks his forehead, just so, against his shoulder, and mumbles: ]
...water's gonna get cold.
[ probably not the reception you want from getting a hug, but the fact that he didn't absolutely sprint the other way is a deeply positive sign, so, that's just going to have to be enough. unfortunately he is awkward. ]
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even past that, though, he's a healer. healing comes in a lot of ways, and sometimes it isn't food or medicine that fixes things. it is in his nature to give, even when he can't pull together the effort for himself. like if he could get the knife just a little further into the jar, scrape the last little bit of substance out. don't waste it, now. use everything you're given. there's still some use before you recycle it.
he's wandering again, he thinks. so when therion settles, jiaoqiu hums, dragging a warm palm up therion's back and resting it there. this is good. this is good enough, and he is content. ]
It stays warm for a surprisingly long time. [ is his answer. but, after a moment, he pulls away, and he's got that placid smile on again, but. he's not lifeless. there's color in his cheeks and he's present. ]
Thank you. We can get out. I wouldn't have you suffer wet fur smell any longer than necessary.
[ threateningly waves his tail again like he's gonna smack him with it ]
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though, this...whatever this is between them isn't necessarily all that sweet. this moment is an anomaly, a strange, out of time moment as jiaoqiu was out of time just barely half an hour ago. it'll go back to normal when this is over, and it'll ... be fine. it'll be fine. he's not placed his trust here. not yet. (or, well. he has, in some ways, but he's not looking it directly in the eyes.) the warm palm up his back makes him want to desperately lean into it and run away as fast as possible all at the same time, and though he doesn't exactly relax, there's a tiny, subtle shiver when he runs his hand up his back like that.
it's something of a relief when jiaoqiu pulls away, as he dips out of the way of the tail wave and out of his immediate reach, slippery as a snake, stepping out of the tub as he pulls the curtain back. ]
One of these days, karma's going to spray you with a skunk.
[ rude? but there's zero heat. therion is soaking wet even if he wasn't that far underneath the water, his hair plastered to his face, and he plucks up a towel off the rack and toses it at jiaoqiu, and then uses the other to towel himself off. ruffling it over his face, jiaoqiu can just see the point of something discolored underneath his long bang, and then it's gone again, covered by cloth and hair alike. he feels... weird. good? reassured? terrified? it's a complicated and messy tangle of something or other that he keeps off of his face for now, frowning underneath the terrycloth to himself to keep his usual, cool guy composure. ]
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he takes the towel when it is tossed at him, and starts drying himself off. these are heavy duty towels, because he's got so much fucking fur, so they take forever to get actually wet. super absorbent. as he's doing this, he catches that little discoloration under his bangs, and pauses. doesn't mention it, because he's sure therion doesn't want to talk about it, but... there's that little twisty feeling again. he thinks about strays. he thinks about feeding the cats and dogs in the neighborhood, about leaving meals three times a day for them. thinks about the way most of them hissed or growled at him if he got close.
he thinks about another man in purple who refused to open his mouth. and he feels like drifting again, but he stops himself. takes a deep breath, and steps carefully out of the tub after therion. ]
Will you borrow some of my clothing? You're welcome to wander the apartment in your underwear, but it may be a little cold. [ casually. like he doesn't want to bundle therion in blankets and feed him soup. he's so skinny, it gives jiaoqiu agita. ]
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he absolutely does not want to talk about it, no! in fact, if there's anything that therion gets extremely cagey about, it's the hidden side of his face. anytime jiaoqiu's hands have wandered too close to it when they're fooling around, he's ducked out of the way, whether it was on accident or otherwise. that's part of what it means, to earn his trust - not to pry. slowly but surely, it's working. bit by bit, he finds his way to those metaphorical meals (or not so metaphorical. he's noticed that jiaoqiu makes food that he likes to eat. he's pretty sure it's on purpose.)
as he pulls the towel away from his puffed up, fluffy hair - as fluffy as a dandelion, after all that toweling - he tosses the towel over the rack to dry it. by the time he's reaching for his dirty, ratty sweatshirt, he's addressed again, and he glances over at him for a long moment, then back at his shirt. it is damp... ]
... Sure, whatever. [ he guesses. at least until his dries properly. wet like this, he looks especially scrawny, all scars and thin muscle, surely making that agita worse (sorry) and he rolls his shoulders back, and then steps out of the room. it's not like he doesn't know where jiaoqiu's bedroom is at this point, so he pads silently away to go poke through his drawers.
he pokes around until he finds something comfortable looking for jiaoqiu, and then just. looks at his pants collection, gives up - he is both short AND lacking a tail - and just pulls out a big long sleeved shirt of some kind in a neutral color, and throws it on over his head. it comes down midway to his thighs. small guy life.
he returns a couple minutes later, and pushes a pile of warm, clean clothes into jiaoqiu's hands if he's still standing in the bathroom. like a cat, bringing objects. here. fetch good. ]
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jiaoqiu looks amused at the way his hair fluffs. he really wants to reach to touch it, but he doesn't. instead, he does a good, through job of drying himself off, and by the time therion comes back, he's brushed his fangies, and is in the process of brushing his tail out in long, even strokes. therion might actually catch him looking vaguely annoyed because his fur is tangled and less shiny than normal, and he's realizing that he's probably been too flippant about taking care of it lately. bluh.
he puts the brush down just fast enough to take the fetched objects, ear flicking. clothes! a beat, as he takes in the way therion looks wearing his shirt. scrawny, scarred, small - malnutritioned, but warm and dry and out of the rain, in the middle of jiaoqiu's apartment, with him. that gets something horrible and wrenching to wake up in his chest, and just for a second, he has to turn and busy himself with sorting through his clothes because he can't breathe. he does a decent job of hiding it, at least. it's just - it's nice. it's a little domestic, it's a little giving, and it's the kind of thing that'd make him cough up flower petals in another universe. something this nice shouldn't hurt so much, he thinks.
jiaoqiu swallows hard. and then starts pulling on the comfortable clothes. ]
Thank you.
[ he can manage that much. and then: ] Go look in the refrigerator and tell me what ingredients inside it that you would like to eat. I'll make us a meal.
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the shirt's not bad, at least. he doesn't particularly care about his state of dress, particularly since jiaoqiu has seen him naked already plenty of times, so he just kind of rolls the sleeves up so they aren't falling down his hands the entire time and shrugs at the thank you. whatever, no big deal, then staring at him for a minute, like... he's making sure he's all there, maybe, or that he's scrutinizing him, or god only knows what else.
... and after a moment, therion nods. it feels safer than actually saying anything, because he's still feeling very skittish in the face of all the. Emotions that happened this afternoon, and then waves a hand over his shoulder as he starts to turn back towards the kitchen. casually, calling out over his shoulder: ] Are you going to have a bunch of weird shit in there again?
[ therion fancy food is not weird shit. one time there was a whole ass fish. what does he know. ]
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he's not skittish, at least. therion is, and he can sense a little of it, so he's being careful. but jiaoqiu himself is more unsure, in a way he isn't used to being. there are footsteps he can hear in the apartment above him. someone down the line of the fourth floor is vacuuming. the rain is still pouring outside, beating against the tiny window above his tub. his clothes feel a little too restrictive, but he refuses to cook without a shirt on, so he just suffers it. at least it's a short sleeve. he can deal with that. ]
Fish is not weird shit, little wolf.
[ he calls after therion, absently, picking up his brush to finish working the knots out of his tail. a beat. hm. that nickname slipped out. but he's not taking it back, so... okay! sure!
after a moment, when he's sure he isn't going to have a meltdown, he will make his way out to the kitchen. he makes sure his footsteps are loud, so he doesn't startle, and when he comes up to therion, he rests a hand on therion's lower back. a casual touch, something grounding. he is maybe a bit more touchy than normal, but he desperately needs to keep his head from wandering, and physical touch is the only thing that's doing it for him, so. ]
What do you think? Bear in mind that I will be adding chili oil to whatever you choose.
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...It still had its eyeballs.
[ and...ultimately, he goes with a response, a little late, because in terms of nicknames, it could be worse. he could go without the little part, but, whatever. therion resumes going through the fridge. he is deeply unaware of any of the meanings of his name because he cannot read (no) because he just never thought about it, so he writes it off as edgy enough that its acceptable and decides not to think about what kind of familiarity can come with a nickname, before it sends him off into a spiral and straight out the window and as far away from this apartment as humanly possible.
he's leaning into the fridge by the time jiaoqiu gets out into the main room, letting the blast of the cold air brace him, staring at the contents inside. he hears him coming miles before jiaoqiu probably even realizes, too used to attuning himself to the sounds of others, too alert, too watchful, and he can feel him coming close to his space and straightens up from what he's looking at.
which is when the hand lands on his back. therion stills, again - maybe he always will. but a beat goes by. one second, two. and then he kind of relaxes or... at least he leans into it a little bit, quietly accepting as he looks. ]
Beats me. [ useless ] I'm not that hungry.
[ ok. he might be a little bit, but he's saying this A) to retain his dignity and B) because he thinks it might rile jiaoqiu a little. he always gets so fussy. naggy. annoying. (it's kind of nice.) ]
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anyway. this wolf is better than the ones he's encountered in the past. this one only bites him when he asks, and this one pulls him out of his daydreams instead of making them worse. and maybe most importantly, this one knows how to rile him up in a way that doesn't hurt. jiaoqiu doesn't remove his hand from therion's back, and doesn't press too hard, just easy and warm. and when therion speaks, his tail waves back and forth like it does when he's agitated or impatient. ]
You should be. You're far too skinny. [ grumbles. and nags him, because therion is right, he's fussy about how much therion eats. ] And I would wager a guess that you have not eaten today.
[ which is fine, because jiaoqiu hasn't either. he slides his hand up therion's back gently, and then pulls away from him so that he can peer into the fridge as well, starting to pull ingredients out. there probably is some weird shit in there, but also? there's a whole bag of apples, and a tupperware container of sliced ones with homemade caramel. ]
Hm... meat skewers, I think. With roasted vegetables and a side of rice. And sauce to dip all of it in, of course. Is that simple enough for your palette? Will you eat vegetables if I prepare them?
[ teasing, a little. ]
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I'm not four.
[ tch!!! he'll eat his vegetables! jiaoqiu has probably noticed by now that he usually finishes his plates when they're put in front of him. there's not really any room to be picky, and though he has no trouble lifting himself enough cash for a meal (or the meal itself) nowadays, old childhood habits tend to die hard. and he's used to jiaoqiu's particular brand of cooking, as spicy as it is, so he'll especially eat whatever he feeds him, now that he's sure it's safe to. so.
as for the rest. the hand sliding up his back is not. unwelcome, though he sort of tenses a little initially, just like always, and tries to pretend it doesn't make the hair on the back of his neck stand up, easily resists the urge to lean back into it, even if its there. its the combination of that and staring at the tupperware container in the fridge, because he knows that's not just there because jiaoqiu got a craving. when did he do that? how long has it been sitting there? when was the last time he came by to visit? guilt and something more dangerous flutter up into his throat, and he swallows them back, patting the fridge where he's resting on it and pulling back and away. ]
Do whatever you want. [ which jiaoqiu surely knows by now is therion for "yes". that's thing. he's learning how to be known. ]
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idly, mock-scolding: ]
Mind your manners, or I'll be enlisting you to help prepare the meal.
[ which is a little bit of an invitation. if he'd like to help, he can. he doesn't have to - he can go curl up and hang out in jiaoqiu's lame armchair.
he also says this as he puts the ingredients out on the counter and pulls out a very sharp knife from the drawer. ]
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[ sassy!!! and for what!! there's a brief, amused little smirk, something very genuine, but he considers this threat/offer. and after a moment, he decides to hop up on the counter instead, planting his bony butt here in his space like a cat.
he'll do kitchen stuff if jiaoqiu hands it to him, but for now, he's going to sit here like he owns the place, and... watch him, with that knife. watch the skill and care that goes into something like that - cutting vegetables, cutting pills, methodical and so different from the way therion wields a switchblade. so different from the way they met, where it was therion with the knife, a skittish animal ready to bite at any minute. ]
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there's a little tch sound that jiaoqiu lets out when therion hops up on the counter. ]
You are dirtying my work space. [ he keeps nagging, because he knows therion is doing it on purpose, and because he likes this, likes being annoyed and annoying right back. ] How am I supposed to cook when your germs are all over my counter, hm?
[ very gently thwacks him with the hilt of his knife. yes, he does a little twirly motion so he can hold the blade of it in order to do so. he doesn't cut himself. he's well practiced, and he telegraphs his movement very obviously, allowing for therion to see that it's the hilt that is going to whap at his wrist and not the blade.
he twirls the knife back, and starts using it to cut vegetables, eat flicking. it's a marked difference from the way he was sitting in front of the graves. ]
Peel this.
[ hands him a potato. ]
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therion doesn't say anything, but there's something appreciative in his visible eye, briefly, even after he's been smacked. (and frankly, the fact he doesn't immediately jolt away is such a testament to the amount of tentative trust he's built to jiaoqiu that not even a brief, sour look could hide it.) after the prerequisite bitching, of course, where he swats at his hand automatically and grouses: ] Show you germs on the counter.
[ he probably has but that's beside the point. anyway whatever else he was going to stay is silenced as he is just. handed a potato? he stares at it. he stares at jiaoqiu, giving him a very pointed look. and you know what? you know what?
he shrugs, and reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his switchblade, casually flipping it open and starting a mental countdown to how long it takes jiaoqiu to flip his metaphorical lid (to react, to react) over therion just using his switchblade he uses to occasionally stab people to peel a potato that's going in someone's mouth. ]
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Germs! [ is all he manages to splutter at first, putting his knife down. okay, now you're getting thwacked with a dishtowel like he's some sort of exasperated housewife. ] Where has that knife been? Wash your hands!
[ but there's no heat to it. it's all for show - well, most of it. the huffiness is, he's serious about not using a stab knife to peel a potato, but he's not mad. he is very rarely ever really angry with therion. it's just a constant game of pulling each other's tails.
and... he is, he's reacting. he's alive. he's acting like it. crazy, to think the start of his day was catatonic. ]
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[ YOU DIDN'T GIVE HIM A PEELER!!!! anyway this was all completely on purpose, and he's a little smug at the successful pigtail pulling, finally sliding down from the counter and walking over to wash his hands, shutting the switchblade with a click and tucking it back into whatever place he keeps it on his person. in the meantime, he has to push the sleeves of the borrowed shirt up to his elbows, has to invade jiaoqiu's space to get to the sink. companionable and close, in ways that he's not been with anyone in years, in ways that he does not dare allow himself to consider for more than a second.
it's easiest like this. maybe that's what makes it successful - he doesn't have to think about it at all. ]
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but therion goes to wash his hands, and jiaoqiu is appeased. instinctively he shifts to make room for therion to stand, tilting his body to the side to let him close, not bothering to step away. companionable. this close, jiaoqiu can smell his shampoo on therion, can smell the mix of his own scent and therion's rubbed in against the borrowed shirt, the remains of rain. therion is right here, with him, and it's easy.
for a moment, there's something in him that wants to wreck it. there is something in him that wants to dig his teeth in and rip it to shreds, if only to remind himself that he will lose whatever nails in his feet that are keeping him pinned. but it isn't an instinct to hurt therion, and it won't ever be - it's just for a moment he considers curling his fingers around the blade of his knife again.
but he doesn't. he puts the knife down. he pulls a peeler from the drawer, hands it to therion, and leans in therion's space to bit the ridge of his ear.
and then he scoots away with a huffy little laugh, escaping to the fridge. ]
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[ you got a problem with white hair? huh?
however, it's a heatless comeback, despite the sass and complaining, and therion sideeyes him for a moment as he's shaking the water from his hands. he can't shake the sight of the waif of a person settled before that grave even with a real, lively jiaoqiu sitting next to him, and as he's toweling off his hands, his mouth pulls lower into a frown. he should have just left him there. this isn't his problem. the more that he interacts with him, the more dangerously he situates himself into old habits, the more he sets himself up to be pushed off the proverbial cliff. he doesn't trust jiaoqiu, he tells himself, and yet, he finds himself in this relative moment of comfort and safety, not captured or held but staying.
scary. it rattles fear through his heart, briefly, and he entertains how quickly he can escape this situation when jiaoqiu very suddenly interrupts him with a bite to his ear - which warms to it as he jolts and claps a hand over his ear, flustering and shooting him a scowly glare before he snatches the peeler with a loud huff, then sits right back down on his counter to resume peeling the potato. a roll of the eyes after a glare, a petty comeback as opposed to a chance to flee. ]
Have you had your rabies shot recently? [ therion you're the one who needs a rabies shot. also as if he has not been bitten by jiaoqiu many, many times before. ]
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his tail swishes back and forth as he digs into his fridge, and he chances a look over his shoulder at therion, who is glaring at him. he's not sure if the feeling he gets is a stomach cramp or his heart trying to handle what he's feeling, but either way it continues to hurt. he wonders if it'll ever stop, or if he'll get used to it. it has to be like exercise, right? his old bones will get used to it.
he comes back to stand next to therion, and cuts the meat. ]
You would know if I hadn't. [ he hums peacefully, glancing up at therion with a sly little smile. therion cannot escape jiaoqiu biting the shit out of him every time they sleep together. ]