[ this is good enough. he can read between the lines.
jiaoqiu has seen a lot of horrible wounds in his lifetime. he's seen gore and blood and bone, and everything in between. the dead tissue, the scarring - it does not make him gasp or shock him any. and he wouldn't react explosively regardless, but he takes extra care to school his expression, because therion is so tense that jiaoqiu can almost hear his heart trying to escape his chest. it's not a big deal, therion says, but his body language says otherwise. and jiaoqiu is good at reading that, at least.
it hurts to see. clearly, it didn't heal right. clearly, he had nobody to help him fix it. no wonder he had trouble coming here. it makes jiaoqiu angry. his eyes, his throat, his mouth, his lips burn with something toxic and gritty, and he swallows it down, ears pinned back against his skull. he's so angry for therion, and it feels - good. like he could get his claws into it, like he could bury his fangs into something soft.
a pause. deep breath. instead, he leans up, and presses a kiss to the scar, just under therion's half-ruined eye. right after, he eases therion's hair back down over it, giving him the blanket to pull up over his head, so to speak. a little thank you, for having the courage to give over something as vulnerable as this. ]
If you'd like, I can give you something that may help your vision. [ he says, voice easy. he settles back down against therion's side, reaching to pick at the dumplings again. casual. meaningful, because he knows that was a big thing, but letting him come down a little before he picks at the sore spot. ]
[ the visual cues are hard to miss no matter how good jiaoqiu is at hiding the rest of it - though the one that he sees surprises him a little. the way his ears pin back like that is a strange reaction, and it almost makes him defensive, but then again just about anything could set his hair trigger off, at this point. though he holds very still, he's fighting every urge to upend jiaoqiu and the plate and flee, or to start snapping his teeth like a dog. mostly, he doesn't know how to handle his own emotions, a messy disaster of distrust and pride.
and then - well, and then jiaoqiu kisses under his eye. this time, another unschooled reaction, one close to stunned. he sucks in another breath through his nose, and his heart fucking leaps in his chest, suddenly feeling like it might come out through his throat. the reaction of kindness and... tenderness, in the face of something like that is almost unbearable in its root causes, almost too much. the only thing he's ever known that side is the kiss of a knife. he doesn't jump, and he doesn't jerk out of the way, and instead he's just sitting there with his whole world rocked as the bangs come back down over his face.
it takes him a full beat to do anything, and therion's never slow on the draw. slowly, his hands come unclenched from where they were curled. and then he snaps back into nonchalance, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, and shrugs, turning his head away and combing his bangs with his fingers, reflexively, ensuring they go back in place. therion doesn't move away, doesn't push him away, and that's enough. ]
Doesn't really matter. [ whether that's about his vision or how it happened, at first it's hard to tell. he's long learned to compensate for his eye, learned how to be dextrous in every manner there is in order to keep himself alive. like always, he has learned to adapt, and learned how to survive. ]
[ another violent ear flick. this time, his tail swishes, too. his expression is calm and placid, like always, but he can't help the little reactions, the ones that betray the way he feels about it. god. he feels about it. that's something in and of itself. ]
It matters to me.
[ he says, simply, and puts a dumpling in his mouth. whether that's about his vision or how it happened - it's the same. ]
[ but therion knows that it does. and he knows that rehashing this is pointless, but sometimes he can't help but stick his finger in the wound and prod at it, because that is his nature.
however, he knows there's not really any arguing it. he takes a dumpling too, fidgets at the edges of it with his fingers, like he might pick that open, too. and after a long, long pause, finally, he acquiesces. ]
... I'm used to it. I'd have to relearn. [ if he could see fully again. the story behind it is to raw to even come close to without being dragged. ]
Have you heard of Tumbledust? [ ... ] With just one drop, it's able to numb a patient's body during surgery, making them painless throughout the entire process. However. Increase the dose or the potency, and it'll slow the metabolism, making the blood thin and resulting in the loss of all senses. Even long-life species cannot escape its effects.
[ his voice gets more and more flat, as he explains. he's just staring at the wall, now. arms folded in his lap. ]
A long time ago, a borisin man broke free of a prison, and planned to eradicate an entire ship's worth of people. But, you see... it is a custom among borisin to kill prisoners and drink their blood before battle to stir up their madness.
When you are faced with watching a hundred thousand people die, and you cannot convince a paranoid and distrusting man to drink poison, you work with what you have.
[ tumbledust is not a name he's really familiar with - he's heard of plenty of street drugs, but not the kind that help people, usually. and as jiaoqiu explains, therion turns his head to really look at him, to process what he's actually telling him with a slowly raising eyebrow.
in therion's world, people are selfish. jioaqiu is an incredibly unique entity in his so far experience, in that he does seem to just give (and give, and give, and give, until there's nothing left) and all this has done is prove it. the idea of poisoning yourself - presenting yourself on a silver platter to be consumed, devoured, to destroy someone else - would never, ever occur to someone like him, and for a moment he's stunned at the magnitude of what he did. the twisted sort of logic combined with the utter lack of fear, the ability to stare death in the face and walk straight towards it for the sake of others.
it takes him a second to remember - therion exhales out, harshly, the noise a hah, shaking his head. ]
...You're nuts. [ once again, his intuition that something was deeply wrong with him was not wrong. that he had a death wish. not wrong! jiaoqiu is unbelievable in so many ways. however, it doesn't necessarily sound like a bad thing, just sort of a realizing thing, the depths of how it went, the depths of things that jiaoqiu would do. therion's story is not nearly so grandiose. ]
[ this is about the response he was expecting, it's fine.
it's funny, to think that therion might think this is an act of selflessness. maybe it is a little, on paper. but he's never thought about it that way. to sacrifice means you need to care about the thing being given, and he hadn't, in such a long time. there was no fear, and it wasn't noble, because bravery isn't an absence of fear, it's moving in spite of it. this was penance. he poisoned himself to poison the borisin, to weaken him just enough for the general to win. he was useless enough to be caught. his use was in this, and he had no regrets because it did not matter, in the end, so long as his general lived.
silence, for a moment. ]
The drug made it seem like I was dead. I was found much later after the battle had concluded. The healer could not tell me how I survived - she suggested perhaps it was because I desperately needed an answer to a question. The spirit can be much stronger than the flesh, under the right circumstances.
[ the far away deliverance of the information doesn't really surprise him either, the way he just stares at the wall - he's quiet for a long moment after jiaoqiu finishes.
the spirit can be stronger than the flesh, huh. ]
...
[ after a second, he turns, just slightly - just enough to press his good, uninjured shoulder to jiaoqiu's a little more firmly, subtly curling in closer, subtly pressing them together from shoulder to hip. it's his turn to look back at the wall, but therion says, quietly: ]
... I get that.
[ when the spirit outlives the body. laying broken at the bottom of a cliff, when he just wouldn't die. he doesn't say anything after that, just lapsing into silence, pressed closer to jiaoqiu's side. ]
[ it's grounding. therion presses against him, and it helps. there's a mire in front of him, a swamp, a void, a black hole. it sits in the middle of the room and threatens to drag him in, but therion keeps him here. that's a relief, he thinks. even if it hurts. his fingers curl around therion's arm, gently. just to have something. ]
I don't doubt that. [ he says finally, closing his eyes. ] You have suffered much in a short amount of time, and yet you still function.
[ jiaoqiu's life has been long, and his pains and traumas spread out over the years. at least he has that. ]
In any case. I can see now. I won't bore you with the treatment details, but it did take a long time to adjust, both ways.
[ he snorts, at first - a little dryly. suffered much. he guesses. he's not really the type of person to call it suffering, it just is. and for as shitty as parts of his life were when he was growing up, he's carved out a name and a place for himself that he's happy with. content with being nothing and no one, therion despite everything, rarely holds grudges.
in moments like these, jiaoqiu feels like a kid's balloon, just one grubby hand away from floating off into the heavens. he's not stupid - his gaze flicks back to jiaoqiu's for a moment, more intense than before, and he nudges him with his shoulder. ]
Hey. Don't get stuck on it. [ not the nicest things to say, but maybe it's better to be harsh - therion's certainly never been one to sugarcoat anything, and he doesn't mean it necessarily cruelly. but he can watch jiaoqiu starting to drift back into the long years of his past and pull him back. if anyone knows how to leave the past behind, as far as he thinks, anyway, it's therion.
anyway. ]
Good thing it got better, fluff. All that and it still can't cure your old bones.
[ no, it definitely helps - the harshness is almost better than something sweet. pain, or spice, or sharp words... whatever it is, it keeps him here. it's why he eats food so hot it burns his insides, and it's why he dug his claw into the wound on his palm, months ago. deep breath. right, yeah. don't get stuck on it. don't think about the answer to that question, and how his plan didn't even amount to anything in the end. he's still here. for better or for worse.
slowly, jiaoqiu slides down and rests his head on therion's uninjured shoulder, exhausted by the effort of keeping himself from fading. therion's words get him to let out a little huff of a sound, something approaching a laugh. ]
What a shame. [ he jokes, lazily. ] Old bones or no, I keep up with you fine.
[ mostly. like listen if therion told him to jog for his life he'd just keel over and die, but that does not extend to sex. he can do that just fine!!
as he speaks, he slides his hand down therion's arm, tracing his claws along the inside of therion's wrist, and then up the inside of his arm, just very lightly. touching to touch, really. ]
The offer stands, should you want something even to ease the scarring.
[ rude??? but he's just saying this to get a reaction of some kind, because he can't ever resist it, and also because it's easier to lean into that after what has been an incredibly eventful evening. he doesn't stop jiaoqiu from resting on his shoulder - it's a little bony, but the muscles are strong, and though it's maybe not the best pillow, the tactility might be nice.
he doesn't care much about not wearing a shirt around, despite being usually relatively covered up, considering by now how many times jiaoqiu has seen him without one, but there's something awfully intimate about that little touch, the hint of a claw at his wrist. his arms are scratched up from the fight earlier here and there, but beyond that, jiaoqiu's touch strokes over a variety of old wounds. scars, from similar fights - old cuts that never quite healed right. a perfectly circular cigarette burn. an ancient, faded stick and poke tattoo of a little knife, marked through with another old injury. on his wrist, an old mark from a shackle that he only recently managed to shake off. his battered body is evidence enough for that life that he's lived, and he watches jiaoqiu do this instead of staring off into the void, the monster that tells him to wreck it for the moment silent and still. ]
I'll think about it. [ that's the best he's got. ]
Edited (me voice its a modern au i do what i want ) 2024-10-10 02:15 (UTC)
the rudeness gets him to laugh - he digs his nails in briefly, a little pinch. but just once, and then he's touching again. over the marks, the old scars, the scratches, and particularly that cigarette burn. he's gentle, but that one gets him. it's so intentional, is the thing. his battered body, run ragged by the world. jiaoqiu doesn't have many physical scars, from a life behind the frontlines. sometimes he wishes he did, maybe.
but that's an idle thought. he's more interested in thinking about the way that therion froze up and bluescreened at the gentleness, that he didn't know what to do with jiaoqiu kissing the scar over his eye, and it makes a little pilot light go on in his chest. click-click-click. ]
[ if you asked him, he couldn't tell you what it was from, but the reality is he could conjure the memory. it's just one of many - it could've been from fucking around, being a stupid teenager with darius, or it could have been from any number of scraps and fights he got into as a kid, surrounded by people who would beat him into the ground until he learned how to bite back.
but it doesn't matter. he glances up from where he was watching those idle patterns, then over to the plate. it's pretty much empty and he eats like a bird, anyway, so he just makes an affirmative noise. his mouth's still tingling from all the capsaicin, anyway. ] Mn.
[ amazing how he feels less like he's going to spiral away deep down the fear hole TM now that he's had a full meal. it's still there but like sometimes that helps. crazy. ]
[ wow, it's almost like eating helps your brain be less stupid!! jiaoqiu seems pleased that he's a little calmer, because he still does insist that food is medicine. it does wonders. ]
Then it's time for bed. [ he hums, moving to sit up. he will take that plate. ]
[ even if it's cold outside!! he shrugs his good shoulder, and if jiaoqiu does get up, stands up and silently coming to pad after him - though he doesn't follow him all the way in, therion leans on the doorway, folding his arms, and just kind of watches. like a cat following you from room to room. a presence in a home. ]
[ up they get! the plate goes in the sink, and then he wanders into his bedroom, fussing with the covers. a pause, as he glances over his shoulder to see therion just... leaning there... his tail swishes, expression amused. it is kind of like having a cat, and it's intensely amusing to him. ]
... Shall I invite you in? Or will you sleep standing up?
[look, you slept in his bed last night, you can do it again. ]
[ bats sleep hanging upside down. but the shitty remark remains. he stays there for a second, looking at jiaoqiu’s swishy tail and feeling the urge to say no just to make it stop, and then feels weird, and then rolls his eyes, pushes that intrusive thought away, and treats this like nothing happened. he just stalks across the room and reaches to push jiaoqiu over instead.
not in a sexy way but in an annoying way. Cuteness aggression.]
[ he says, before immediately getting knocked over. he has no strength whatsoever he just topples like a poorly constructed block tower. the noise he makes is like WAH, embarrassingly.
a beat. smiles like :3 up at therion from where he's flopped out on the bed. ]
[ hmm yeah that made him feel better. he's got a shitty little smile on his face for a second - honestly, this part of this situation isn't that unfamiliar. it would not be the first or the tenth time that they've fallen into bed together somehow, and therion considers it from where he's currently on high, a rarity.
and then just crawls over him. whatever, he's hurt, who cares. he's been hurt a thousand times, and he's already forgotten about it. ]
You can keep your furry opinions to yourself. [ only in a modern au ] Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?
[ he hums, tail wriggling underneath him, pleased, as therion crawls over him. his hands are warm and careful as he slides them up over therion's sides and chest, testing to see how gentle he needs to be. therion is hurt, and jiaoqiu is still, in his heart of hearts, a doctor who refuses to let therion ache any further than he needs to. he pays close attention, trying to see if there's any winces. ]
You're welcome to silence me.
[ he saw that shitty little smile, and he liked it. ]
[ no winces! not really very surprising: he has a high pain tolerance. jiaoqiu in doing this, however, does get to feel the faint outline of his ribs when he brings his hands up, from years and years of malnutrition - though he gets to eat a little better nowadays, some things are not erased so easily. he presses into it though, unbothered, setting either of his hands down on either side of jiaoqiu's head. pinned in.
the comment gets him to snort, rolling his eyes in a gesture that's less rude than it could be. ]
God, I wish. [ therion mutters, but the little smirk remains. for a long moment, he regards jiaoqiu underneath him, and it occurs to him that - well. for all the times that they've fallen into bed together, it's always been hands on and mouths on, half undressed or a quick roll around in the sheets, wild and then finished, but he's realizing that they've never actually kissed. it's protective, really - therion's only ever kissed the one person, and since getting burned, it's something he's tactically avoided. it feels like acknowledging something that these kind of flings are not.
he opens his mouth to say something else. unwittingly, he's gotten kind of close to jiaoqiu's face - he shuts his mouth. and after a long moment, tilts his head to the side, nose nudging against his, and -
doesn't. go for it. it's a second of hesitance, a moment that feels too big for him to bridge, where he should just rethink it. ]
[ the ribs make him a little grouchy, actually, as he feels over them. therion might see his nose scrunch up, disgruntled by the fact that therion is skin and bones. it's just further resolve to make sure he's well fed, to make sure he shows up more often. there are plenty of foods that are easy to eat, easy to take with, and jiaoqiu can make sure that therion fills out a bit. he'll chase him down.
but - jiaoqiu has the same realization at about the same time therion does. for all the times they've been in this position, it's been safer to just roll over on his stomach, to not be face to face. it's what he defaults to a lot of the time, putting that little bit of impersonal distance between them. it's just a fling, just using each other for pleasure and nothing else, but - jiaoqiu knows it isn't. he's a lot of things, but he doesn't often lie to himself. he asked therion to stay, he wants to make sure he's fed and clothed and warm, it's... it's a little more than just sex.
so when therion leans close, nose nudging his, and doesn't kiss him, jiaoqiu makes an impatient noise. he leans up, and presses their lips together, his hands dragging down to rest on therion's hips.
it does feel like a bridge to cross, but jiaoqiu is willing to drag him across the first couple of steps. the flint to fuel the fire. ]
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no subject
jiaoqiu has seen a lot of horrible wounds in his lifetime. he's seen gore and blood and bone, and everything in between. the dead tissue, the scarring - it does not make him gasp or shock him any. and he wouldn't react explosively regardless, but he takes extra care to school his expression, because therion is so tense that jiaoqiu can almost hear his heart trying to escape his chest. it's not a big deal, therion says, but his body language says otherwise. and jiaoqiu is good at reading that, at least.
it hurts to see. clearly, it didn't heal right. clearly, he had nobody to help him fix it. no wonder he had trouble coming here. it makes jiaoqiu angry. his eyes, his throat, his mouth, his lips burn with something toxic and gritty, and he swallows it down, ears pinned back against his skull. he's so angry for therion, and it feels - good. like he could get his claws into it, like he could bury his fangs into something soft.
a pause. deep breath. instead, he leans up, and presses a kiss to the scar, just under therion's half-ruined eye. right after, he eases therion's hair back down over it, giving him the blanket to pull up over his head, so to speak. a little thank you, for having the courage to give over something as vulnerable as this. ]
If you'd like, I can give you something that may help your vision. [ he says, voice easy. he settles back down against therion's side, reaching to pick at the dumplings again. casual. meaningful, because he knows that was a big thing, but letting him come down a little before he picks at the sore spot. ]
Will you tell me how it happened sometime?
no subject
and then - well, and then jiaoqiu kisses under his eye. this time, another unschooled reaction, one close to stunned. he sucks in another breath through his nose, and his heart fucking leaps in his chest, suddenly feeling like it might come out through his throat. the reaction of kindness and... tenderness, in the face of something like that is almost unbearable in its root causes, almost too much. the only thing he's ever known that side is the kiss of a knife. he doesn't jump, and he doesn't jerk out of the way, and instead he's just sitting there with his whole world rocked as the bangs come back down over his face.
it takes him a full beat to do anything, and therion's never slow on the draw. slowly, his hands come unclenched from where they were curled. and then he snaps back into nonchalance, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, and shrugs, turning his head away and combing his bangs with his fingers, reflexively, ensuring they go back in place. therion doesn't move away, doesn't push him away, and that's enough. ]
Doesn't really matter. [ whether that's about his vision or how it happened, at first it's hard to tell. he's long learned to compensate for his eye, learned how to be dextrous in every manner there is in order to keep himself alive. like always, he has learned to adapt, and learned how to survive. ]
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It matters to me.
[ he says, simply, and puts a dumpling in his mouth. whether that's about his vision or how it happened - it's the same. ]
no subject
[ but therion knows that it does. and he knows that rehashing this is pointless, but sometimes he can't help but stick his finger in the wound and prod at it, because that is his nature.
however, he knows there's not really any arguing it. he takes a dumpling too, fidgets at the edges of it with his fingers, like he might pick that open, too. and after a long, long pause, finally, he acquiesces. ]
... I'm used to it. I'd have to relearn. [ if he could see fully again. the story behind it is to raw to even come close to without being dragged. ]
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Yes. It is difficult to readjust to your senses. It took me years, and a very dedicated healer.
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he pauses, fingers freezing, and tilts his head just enough to regard him. for not the first time, jiaoqiu gets cast in a different light. ]
...What happened to you?
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Have you heard of Tumbledust? [ ... ] With just one drop, it's able to numb a patient's body during surgery, making them painless throughout the entire process. However. Increase the dose or the potency, and it'll slow the metabolism, making the blood thin and resulting in the loss of all senses. Even long-life species cannot escape its effects.
[ his voice gets more and more flat, as he explains. he's just staring at the wall, now. arms folded in his lap. ]
A long time ago, a borisin man broke free of a prison, and planned to eradicate an entire ship's worth of people. But, you see... it is a custom among borisin to kill prisoners and drink their blood before battle to stir up their madness.
When you are faced with watching a hundred thousand people die, and you cannot convince a paranoid and distrusting man to drink poison, you work with what you have.
no subject
in therion's world, people are selfish. jioaqiu is an incredibly unique entity in his so far experience, in that he does seem to just give (and give, and give, and give, until there's nothing left) and all this has done is prove it. the idea of poisoning yourself - presenting yourself on a silver platter to be consumed, devoured, to destroy someone else - would never, ever occur to someone like him, and for a moment he's stunned at the magnitude of what he did. the twisted sort of logic combined with the utter lack of fear, the ability to stare death in the face and walk straight towards it for the sake of others.
it takes him a second to remember - therion exhales out, harshly, the noise a hah, shaking his head. ]
...You're nuts. [ once again, his intuition that something was deeply wrong with him was not wrong. that he had a death wish. not wrong! jiaoqiu is unbelievable in so many ways. however, it doesn't necessarily sound like a bad thing, just sort of a realizing thing, the depths of how it went, the depths of things that jiaoqiu would do. therion's story is not nearly so grandiose. ]
How'd you live through it?
no subject
it's funny, to think that therion might think this is an act of selflessness. maybe it is a little, on paper. but he's never thought about it that way. to sacrifice means you need to care about the thing being given, and he hadn't, in such a long time. there was no fear, and it wasn't noble, because bravery isn't an absence of fear, it's moving in spite of it. this was penance. he poisoned himself to poison the borisin, to weaken him just enough for the general to win. he was useless enough to be caught. his use was in this, and he had no regrets because it did not matter, in the end, so long as his general lived.
silence, for a moment. ]
The drug made it seem like I was dead. I was found much later after the battle had concluded. The healer could not tell me how I survived - she suggested perhaps it was because I desperately needed an answer to a question. The spirit can be much stronger than the flesh, under the right circumstances.
no subject
the spirit can be stronger than the flesh, huh. ]
...
[ after a second, he turns, just slightly - just enough to press his good, uninjured shoulder to jiaoqiu's a little more firmly, subtly curling in closer, subtly pressing them together from shoulder to hip. it's his turn to look back at the wall, but therion says, quietly: ]
... I get that.
[ when the spirit outlives the body. laying broken at the bottom of a cliff, when he just wouldn't die. he doesn't say anything after that, just lapsing into silence, pressed closer to jiaoqiu's side. ]
no subject
I don't doubt that. [ he says finally, closing his eyes. ] You have suffered much in a short amount of time, and yet you still function.
[ jiaoqiu's life has been long, and his pains and traumas spread out over the years. at least he has that. ]
In any case. I can see now. I won't bore you with the treatment details, but it did take a long time to adjust, both ways.
no subject
in moments like these, jiaoqiu feels like a kid's balloon, just one grubby hand away from floating off into the heavens. he's not stupid - his gaze flicks back to jiaoqiu's for a moment, more intense than before, and he nudges him with his shoulder. ]
Hey. Don't get stuck on it. [ not the nicest things to say, but maybe it's better to be harsh - therion's certainly never been one to sugarcoat anything, and he doesn't mean it necessarily cruelly. but he can watch jiaoqiu starting to drift back into the long years of his past and pull him back. if anyone knows how to leave the past behind, as far as he thinks, anyway, it's therion.
anyway. ]
Good thing it got better, fluff. All that and it still can't cure your old bones.
no subject
slowly, jiaoqiu slides down and rests his head on therion's uninjured shoulder, exhausted by the effort of keeping himself from fading. therion's words get him to let out a little huff of a sound, something approaching a laugh. ]
What a shame. [ he jokes, lazily. ] Old bones or no, I keep up with you fine.
[ mostly. like listen if therion told him to jog for his life he'd just keel over and die, but that does not extend to sex. he can do that just fine!!
as he speaks, he slides his hand down therion's arm, tracing his claws along the inside of therion's wrist, and then up the inside of his arm, just very lightly. touching to touch, really. ]
The offer stands, should you want something even to ease the scarring.
no subject
[ rude??? but he's just saying this to get a reaction of some kind, because he can't ever resist it, and also because it's easier to lean into that after what has been an incredibly eventful evening. he doesn't stop jiaoqiu from resting on his shoulder - it's a little bony, but the muscles are strong, and though it's maybe not the best pillow, the tactility might be nice.
he doesn't care much about not wearing a shirt around, despite being usually relatively covered up, considering by now how many times jiaoqiu has seen him without one, but there's something awfully intimate about that little touch, the hint of a claw at his wrist. his arms are scratched up from the fight earlier here and there, but beyond that, jiaoqiu's touch strokes over a variety of old wounds. scars, from similar fights - old cuts that never quite healed right. a perfectly circular cigarette burn. an ancient, faded stick and poke tattoo of a little knife, marked through with another old injury. on his wrist, an old mark from a shackle that he only recently managed to shake off. his battered body is evidence enough for that life that he's lived, and he watches jiaoqiu do this instead of staring off into the void, the monster that tells him to wreck it for the moment silent and still. ]
I'll think about it. [ that's the best he's got. ]
no subject
the rudeness gets him to laugh - he digs his nails in briefly, a little pinch. but just once, and then he's touching again. over the marks, the old scars, the scratches, and particularly that cigarette burn. he's gentle, but that one gets him. it's so intentional, is the thing. his battered body, run ragged by the world. jiaoqiu doesn't have many physical scars, from a life behind the frontlines. sometimes he wishes he did, maybe.
but that's an idle thought. he's more interested in thinking about the way that therion froze up and bluescreened at the gentleness, that he didn't know what to do with jiaoqiu kissing the scar over his eye, and it makes a little pilot light go on in his chest. click-click-click. ]
Are you finished eating?
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but it doesn't matter. he glances up from where he was watching those idle patterns, then over to the plate. it's pretty much empty and he eats like a bird, anyway, so he just makes an affirmative noise. his mouth's still tingling from all the capsaicin, anyway. ] Mn.
[ amazing how he feels less like he's going to spiral away deep down the fear hole TM now that he's had a full meal. it's still there but like sometimes that helps. crazy. ]
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Then it's time for bed. [ he hums, moving to sit up. he will take that plate. ]
Do you want a shirt?
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[ even if it's cold outside!! he shrugs his good shoulder, and if jiaoqiu does get up, stands up and silently coming to pad after him - though he doesn't follow him all the way in, therion leans on the doorway, folding his arms, and just kind of watches. like a cat following you from room to room. a presence in a home. ]
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... Shall I invite you in? Or will you sleep standing up?
[look, you slept in his bed last night, you can do it again. ]
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[ bats sleep hanging upside down. but the shitty remark remains. he stays there for a second, looking at jiaoqiu’s swishy tail and feeling the urge to say no just to make it stop, and then feels weird, and then rolls his eyes, pushes that intrusive thought away, and treats this like nothing happened. he just stalks across the room and reaches to push jiaoqiu over instead.
not in a sexy way but in an annoying way. Cuteness aggression.]
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[ he says, before immediately getting knocked over. he has no strength whatsoever he just topples like a poorly constructed block tower. the noise he makes is like WAH, embarrassingly.
a beat. smiles like :3 up at therion from where he's flopped out on the bed. ]
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and then just crawls over him. whatever, he's hurt, who cares. he's been hurt a thousand times, and he's already forgotten about it. ]
You can keep your furry opinions to yourself. [ only in a modern au ] Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?
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[ he hums, tail wriggling underneath him, pleased, as therion crawls over him. his hands are warm and careful as he slides them up over therion's sides and chest, testing to see how gentle he needs to be. therion is hurt, and jiaoqiu is still, in his heart of hearts, a doctor who refuses to let therion ache any further than he needs to. he pays close attention, trying to see if there's any winces. ]
You're welcome to silence me.
[ he saw that shitty little smile, and he liked it. ]
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the comment gets him to snort, rolling his eyes in a gesture that's less rude than it could be. ]
God, I wish. [ therion mutters, but the little smirk remains. for a long moment, he regards jiaoqiu underneath him, and it occurs to him that - well. for all the times that they've fallen into bed together, it's always been hands on and mouths on, half undressed or a quick roll around in the sheets, wild and then finished, but he's realizing that they've never actually kissed. it's protective, really - therion's only ever kissed the one person, and since getting burned, it's something he's tactically avoided. it feels like acknowledging something that these kind of flings are not.
he opens his mouth to say something else. unwittingly, he's gotten kind of close to jiaoqiu's face - he shuts his mouth. and after a long moment, tilts his head to the side, nose nudging against his, and -
doesn't. go for it. it's a second of hesitance, a moment that feels too big for him to bridge, where he should just rethink it. ]
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but - jiaoqiu has the same realization at about the same time therion does. for all the times they've been in this position, it's been safer to just roll over on his stomach, to not be face to face. it's what he defaults to a lot of the time, putting that little bit of impersonal distance between them. it's just a fling, just using each other for pleasure and nothing else, but - jiaoqiu knows it isn't. he's a lot of things, but he doesn't often lie to himself. he asked therion to stay, he wants to make sure he's fed and clothed and warm, it's... it's a little more than just sex.
so when therion leans close, nose nudging his, and doesn't kiss him, jiaoqiu makes an impatient noise. he leans up, and presses their lips together, his hands dragging down to rest on therion's hips.
it does feel like a bridge to cross, but jiaoqiu is willing to drag him across the first couple of steps. the flint to fuel the fire. ]
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