therion looks unbearably smug where he's settled, leaning back against the cabinets with his coffee, the expression on his face that just says "i know you won't". awful. the worst. ]
[ DON'T JUST SAY THAT AFTER HE SO VERY NICELY AVOIDED MAKING A DIE JOKE
throws a dishtowel at him. unfortunately he does not have a rebuttal so therion wins this round.
he will cook! he's also chatty. therion absolutely does not care about what sushang did at work the other night nor does he give a shit about jiaoqiu's chore list, but he will hear about it. it's mostly just to fill the silence, and at the very least he doesn't seem to need therion to be an active participant. he can just listen or zone out if he wants.
but eventually he'll finish making an omelette with a bunch of diced ham and chili peppers and shove it into therion's hands on a plate. eat!! ]
[ hehe. victory. he puts his hands up to block getting hit in the face with the towel and then just takes it, snickering to himself like an asshole. he loves winning.
and... while jiaoqiu cooks, he just kind of leans back against the counters, holding his coffee, and watches him. he might not seem like he's listening, but he is - occasionally he reacts with a noise here and there to prompt him to keep chattering, but for the most part, he's very quiet, just watching him.
it's such a contrast to the other side of jiaoqiu, watching him hustle and bustle like this. he'd have to be blind to miss how lively he is here, how i like it when you stay was nothing but the truth. his mouth's still tingling a little from that surprise kiss earlier, and he sits there, wishing he had his own scarf to bury his face in and quietly having feelings that he keeps to himself, feeling warm and scared and safe and wildly comfortable and uncomfortable all at once. he's never had this much of effect on someone. no one has ever cared about his presence. ever.
the plate coming into his hand almost startles him. he takes it, looks down at the omelette, and takes whatever silverware come too. there's a pause. ]
[ years ago, he did this exact thing for two other people. she went for a morning jog, dragging their crow out with her, and when they came back she poked and prodded and wheedled jiaoqiu out of bed and laughed every time that he fake-scolded her for sitting on the counter, only shut up by the crow at his back, leaning to take dishes so that he could clean. this was how it was. this is what he was, under the layers of sediment and dust that he's allowed to gather over his soul.
he wasn't alone. he had purpose. like now. it brings the part of him that was not always miserable and broken out to see the sunshine.
when therion speaks, jiaoqiu's ear flicks. he goes back to his stove, to make himself one as well. ]
[ therion doesn't let him get very far. he reaches to snag him by the waistband of his sweats when he comes close to deliver the plate, so he can't turn, and then in one fluid movement, leans over and steals a kiss.
it's short, but a piece of punctuation. he pulls back a second later, and says - ]
... Thanks for breakfast.
[ and then hops off the counter and goes to properly sit down somewhere to actually eat it and behave himself, for once. maybe it's the novel fact of being cooked a meal at all. maybe it's just that lively, living creature standing in this room, instead of all the misery he's seen under the surface. maybe it's a thank you for putting up with - whatever this is. he doesn't really know, either. he'll maybe never stop expecting the shoe to drop, but... he's not too bad at living in the moment. and for right now, the moment's a good one - whether he's stolen it away or not. ]
[ here's the thing - it startles him, but this time, it's a good startle.
therion leans down and drags him back, and the kiss makes jiaoqiu let out a squeaky sound. it's embarrassing, and even worse, he's left standing a little dumb in the middle of his kitchen, as therion hops down to go sit. the only place is really the armchair in the living room - he doesn't have a couch, doesn't have any seating made for two people. when he bought this apartment, it took him months to buy anything that wasn't his bed. the armchair was an afterthought, something to make the black hole seem a little less imposing, make his living room look less empty.
jiaoqiu watches therion wander off, ears perked up and eyes open. touches his mouth briefly, fingertips at his bottom lip.
maybe he'll buy a table. maybe two chairs. ]
... You're welcome. [ he says, lamely. and then he turns to make himself food, feeling like an idiot. ]
he's very smug about this for no reason. jiaoqiu gets to feel the way his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he's pulling away - he likes to pigtail pull and he likes to win, and it's the god given nature of a thief to be just a little dramatic. a little extra.
he waves two fingers over his shoulder to the "you're welcome" and plops down in the armchair, draping both legs over the arm and balancing the plate on his stomach so he can eat like a creature, and also like he owns the place. this is the cat you have invited into your home to stay, unfortunately, and whether he stays or not, he will at least act like he does. the food is, of course, delicious and very spicy, which he finds he never quite gets all the way used to. much like jiaoqiu himself. (and maybe that's why staying, at least sometimes, could start to work. because he can't ever be too complacent here, and that suits therion better. a moment on his guard is a moment he's closer to safe.)
he's eaten most of his food by the time jiaoqiu is done - another part and parcel of life on the street. eat fast, eat your fill, and tuck the rest away if you can. ]
[ ugh, smug thieves, the worst. jiaoqiu huffs, berating himself quietly for being so easily flustered.
it doesn't take him long to finish cooking - he checks on therion every so often, just leaning around to see if he's still there. very casually, like it doesn't matter if he is or not, of course. even when he doesn't have someone right in his line of vision, it's... really nice to have someone else in his apartment. his tail won't stop swishing back and forth as he works.
when he carries his own food out to the living room and sees that therion is nearly finished, he looks slightly amused. part of it is the street rat thing, but also, he likes that therion likes his food as much as he does. ]
And where am I supposed to sit when there's a big bad wolf in my armchair, hm?
kicks back a little further and folds his arms behind his head? on purpose? because he is the worst kind of guy and he's clearly in some kind of mood here, though it's not a bad one. ]
[ were he the kind of man to roll his eyes, he would roll his eyes. however, he is too Dignified for this, theoretically, so he just raises an eyebrow. the brattiness makes his chest feel warm, though, and it isn't hard to tell that he's happy with how his tail won't stop swaying.
he hums, and then makes his way over and just sits down on therion. he moves the plate out of the way first, but he is indeed just going to plant his furry butt on therion's lap, as awkward as the positioning is, because he has a point to make and he will be making it.
[ okay this is exactly what he was expecting but also ]
Urk - god, your ass is so bony -
[ LIKE HIS IS ANY BETTER well whatever at least he's not getting tail shoved in his face or something. he pushes at jiaoqiu until he's in a more comfortable position, kicking his legs kind of uselessly on the other side of the armchair before he readjusts and props himself up better. there. fine. he can sit in his lap. ]
[ THEY'RE BOTH BONY it's fine, they sort it out. jiaoqiu maybe does in fact put his tail fluff in therion's face as they readjust, because he sucks.
but once they're sitting, he flops down and makes himself comfortable, ears droopy in that sort of way that's more like he's very relaxed than upset. he will eat his omelette with his fingers. just because he's a cook doesn't mean he has to use cutlery.
and like, listen, foxes don't really purr, and neither do foxians, but the rumbling sound he makes once he's tucked up close is pretty close. ]
[ HE COMPLAINS!!! SO MUCH!!!!! ABOUT THE FUR IN HIS FACE and immediately swats his tail and pulls at it if jiaoqiu will let him, like a five year old. because internally, he is a five year old.
however, therion loves complaining so he's clearly not that bothered by it, and despite all his harrumphing and grumbling, he settles back with his attachment and watches him eat it with his fingers, one arm folded behind his head. out of sheer necessity, the other has to drop down in the space, and it ends up kind of braced around jiaoqiu, which is... fine, also. god he's so warm ]
[ he does let him pull it, and unfortunately he's into that shit so the purr-rumble gets briefly worse. backfired...
in any case, he eases into the arm around him with a happy sound, letting his tail settle on and between therion's legs, like a big poofy blanket. you cannot believe how huge his tail is, it's obnoxious. ]
Stop pouting.
[ he says primly, sucking hot sauce off his fingers like a five year old. they match! ]
[ it is huge. he is constantly covered in pink fur now? it's the worst. even when he's not been here for like a week, he still finds it on himself and then feels weird about it and then has to show up and bother him, which is definitely not a sign of the fact that he has feelings or anything.
anyway,
he gets a scowl over pouting. rude? and therion pinches him in the side for it, but he'll answer his question, nonchalant as ever. ]
Fine. [ why wouldn't it be. it's like a little sore but he's so distantly unaware of any pain in his body that he doesn't care about it. ] Not really any different than yesterday.
[ the most horrible tsundere cat in the universe and jiaoqiu has chosen to place his affections upon it
the pinch gets a squawk, but he's so comfortable that he doesn't dislodge himself much. he does shift a bit so he can look at whatever therion is wearing - the bandages are probably covered, but. he believes therion, is the thing, he knows that he's got crazy pain tolerance, but the thing about pain is that it's supposed to tell you when something is wrong. jiaoqiu knows this so very, very well. he's had to be careful, over the years, because the senses he has that tell him things are wrong are broken.
a beat. ]
When I'm finished, I'd like to check. You shouldn't get your stitches soaked, but you can wet them a little, if you'd like to join me in the shower.
[ he can look!!! he's wearing the same clothes he was wearing yesterday - an oversized, dark purple hoodie and too tight jeans. no shirt underneath because he is a heathen, so if jiaoqiu really wanted to actually look at his bandages he probably could. the reality is that he owns maybe like three pieces of clothing? he steals them when he feels like he needs them (ie: when they are destroyed) but otherwise just wears them down to the threads.
he shrugs his good shoulder, though, in agreement. a shower sounds fine, though he's kind of comfortable at the moment. not that he'd admit it. ]
Thought you'd nag me out of the shower if I went in alone. [ "don't get them wet" "don't climb buildings" god it's like jiaoqiu doesn't want him to do anything!!!!!
the comment about the sheets gets an eyebrow raise in response, too, but he doesn't say anything about it because he doesn't have to. mr clean and his animal instincts, huh... ]
[ jiaoqiu knows that feasibly, he cannot buy therion clothes because therion would be mad about it. but maybe what he can do is buy himself purple clothes and then leave them strategically around the apartment for therion to take. that's a good plan, right? ]
If you will not take care of your injuries, then it falls to me to do so.
[ he says, taking another bite of his eggs. anyway, he'd made that comment because he thinks there is a decent chance that they'll end up rolling around in bed again. but as he's eating, he sort of drifts in a memory, with his head resting against therion's shoulder, his arm wrapped around him loosely.
a little hesitantly, like he's not sure if it's... okay, or if he should: ]
Moze used to scold me for waiting so long to change my bed sheets. I really should do it more often.
[ it's a bit of a trust exercise. things he'd never talk about, things he probably shouldn't talk about to therion specifically, but - offering a little of his past, some vulnerability, a little of what hurts him. ]
anyway that's a fair enough comment - he rolls his eyes but doesn't say more about it. that's how they met, after all, with jiaoqiu cornering him into accepting actual medical treatment. he thinks that jiaoqiu is just going to ramble again at first, and he is, as always, perfectly comfortable to meld into silence. it's sort of what he's used to? and he just kind of closes his eyes and stays there.
...but. well. he's stupid sometimes, but he's not that stupid. the hesitance of that casual namedrop is enough, and his eyes flutter open again, looking up at the ceiling. he thinks, incorrectly, about when i was still trying to figure out what made me feel alive - because therion never had good relationships, and so of course the worst comes first, but he doesn't say anything about it.
instead, he just asks, quiet. neutral: ] ... Moze? [ and reaches back out to that hesitance to let him talk, if he wants to. ]
[ silence, for a moment, like he's debating on how much he wants to say, how much he's willing to bleed. he wants to. therion gives him room, and he wants to try. ]
My... [ he starts, and immediately gets stuck. what was moze, to him? friend? yes. lover - sometimes, but it seems ridiculous to call him his boyfriend. that wasn't ever what it was. what do you call codependency between three people? not a relationship, not really. he clears his throat. ] We worked together as General Feixiao's retainers. Her left and right hands.
[ he busies himself with his plate. ]
You remember that I stayed long enough because I had a question. [ before, when they were talking about recovering from nearly dying. ] The answer was that despite all my clever plans, both he and the General still died.
[ the first thing that comes to mind, before he even gets past the phrase 'left and right hands' are the two gravestones. suddenly, a lot of things click into place.
and it's - complicated. it's so complicated. therion's bad enough with emotions, let alone grief. even worse than that, in this case, his initial reaction isn't as sympathetic as it should be, but at least it's internalized, and with his face turned up to the ceiling, it's even harder to read.
that's what happens, when you lean too much on others. that's what happens, when you care too much. when you get too involved with other people, bad things happen. they hurt you, or they betray you, whether they mean to or not. he knows that's unfair, but he thinks it anyway, and he thinks about the miserable shell of a person sitting in front of the gravestones, and closes his eyes.
therion is quiet for a long, long moment as jiaoqiu finishes off with that last, self-depreciating comment. ]
... People die. [ he says, eventually, his voice dropping low. ] Not your fault.
[ he could probably phrase this in a softer way if he was a better person, but he's not. he has to say the harsh thing, usually in the most unfortunate way possible. he doesn't know the full circumstance, or if jiaoqiu would tell him, even, but there's nothing about this story that suggests anything that's jiaoqiu's fault. he can't call that useless. ]
[ the thing is that jiaoqiu doesn't even necessarily disagree. you spend enough time on a battlefield, you learn the names of your fellow soldiers. every day, you nurse them back to health, and every day, you watch them head out once more into danger. every day, you hear the footsteps of returning troops, and know that you would be missing a few more familiar faces among those who sat around the cauldron. eventually, you give up. you lose your taste. you lose your ability to cry.
people die. it's not your fault. therion's right, it wasn't his fault, but it ruined him nonetheless.
he doesn't seem to mind the harsh words. were it anybody else, maybe he'd shut off, but he knows therion so well by now. if he were to get angry every time therion didn't know how to be better at comfort, they would not be in this apartment, together. and, besides that, he doesn't expect therion to comfort him. he doesn't deserve it, first of all, but second of all, this wasn't a bid for pity. maybe it's just a little bit of insight.
as for the question: ]
Oh - was what I did worth it. [ he says idly. ] If they had survived, it would've been.
[ mm. he's quiet for a little after that, too. this is dangerous territory for the both of them - it's toeing into the past, something therion hates doing and something he's watched jiaoqiu fall into the void of before, but maybe it's... necessary? maybe it's necessary.
his harshness doesn't come from a place of cruelty, not really. therion's softer than he seems, no matter how much he puts his sharp, harsh front forwards, and he doesn't immediately dismiss what jiaoqiu says or what he went through no matter how he sees it. he needs to know the full story, anyway. his tone stays neutral, but he's clearly listening, clearly - observing him, too.]
... How soon after did it happen? [ after jiaoqiu went blind, at least. ]
After I went blind? Immediately. [ he says, and he is so desperately trying to not let the void creep in. therion reacted so poorly to it, the night before. he doesn't want to ruin this. but it's lurking, watching. waiting for his guard to slip. ]
I woke up blind, and they told me that Feixiao and Moze both had fallen to the borisin. Hoolay, was his name. You may have heard of him.
well - yeah. he knows that name. therion frowns. ]
... Shit.
[ sometimes, well, shit is really all you can really say in the face of that, because. yeah, of course therion knows hoolay, because he's infamous like therion is infamous, whispered names in shady corners, places shot up with illegitimacy. that's someone he has kept a wide, wide berth from, because he doesn't fuck around in places that can get him killed if he doesn't have to, because he doesn't deal in anything but trying to survive. he's not heard of him around this city in a while, but that doesn't mean anything, not with the long lived types.
so, that name is enough to tell the story. he doesn't know why a general of some kind got involved with that clown, but he can guess. and coming back to jiaoqiu - that he'd done so much to survive, only for the people to disappear in the end, making it all futile, it's...
it tells him what he thinks is true - that those attachments are what gets you pain. one way or another, by death or by betrayal, that's all it ever brings. he wants to run, but he doesn't. i like it when you stay. he bites back every normal awful thing he says for a second, and looks down at him out of the corner of his visible eye. ]
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[ DON'T JUST SAY THAT
therion looks unbearably smug where he's settled, leaning back against the cabinets with his coffee, the expression on his face that just says "i know you won't". awful. the worst. ]
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throws a dishtowel at him. unfortunately he does not have a rebuttal so therion wins this round.
he will cook! he's also chatty. therion absolutely does not care about what sushang did at work the other night nor does he give a shit about jiaoqiu's chore list, but he will hear about it. it's mostly just to fill the silence, and at the very least he doesn't seem to need therion to be an active participant. he can just listen or zone out if he wants.
but eventually he'll finish making an omelette with a bunch of diced ham and chili peppers and shove it into therion's hands on a plate. eat!! ]
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and... while jiaoqiu cooks, he just kind of leans back against the counters, holding his coffee, and watches him. he might not seem like he's listening, but he is - occasionally he reacts with a noise here and there to prompt him to keep chattering, but for the most part, he's very quiet, just watching him.
it's such a contrast to the other side of jiaoqiu, watching him hustle and bustle like this. he'd have to be blind to miss how lively he is here, how i like it when you stay was nothing but the truth. his mouth's still tingling a little from that surprise kiss earlier, and he sits there, wishing he had his own scarf to bury his face in and quietly having feelings that he keeps to himself, feeling warm and scared and safe and wildly comfortable and uncomfortable all at once. he's never had this much of effect on someone. no one has ever cared about his presence. ever.
the plate coming into his hand almost startles him. he takes it, looks down at the omelette, and takes whatever silverware come too. there's a pause. ]
...hey. Doc.
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he wasn't alone. he had purpose. like now. it brings the part of him that was not always miserable and broken out to see the sunshine.
when therion speaks, jiaoqiu's ear flicks. he goes back to his stove, to make himself one as well. ]
Mm?
[ he's listening. ]
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it's short, but a piece of punctuation. he pulls back a second later, and says - ]
... Thanks for breakfast.
[ and then hops off the counter and goes to properly sit down somewhere to actually eat it and behave himself, for once. maybe it's the novel fact of being cooked a meal at all. maybe it's just that lively, living creature standing in this room, instead of all the misery he's seen under the surface. maybe it's a thank you for putting up with - whatever this is. he doesn't really know, either. he'll maybe never stop expecting the shoe to drop, but... he's not too bad at living in the moment. and for right now, the moment's a good one - whether he's stolen it away or not. ]
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therion leans down and drags him back, and the kiss makes jiaoqiu let out a squeaky sound. it's embarrassing, and even worse, he's left standing a little dumb in the middle of his kitchen, as therion hops down to go sit. the only place is really the armchair in the living room - he doesn't have a couch, doesn't have any seating made for two people. when he bought this apartment, it took him months to buy anything that wasn't his bed. the armchair was an afterthought, something to make the black hole seem a little less imposing, make his living room look less empty.
jiaoqiu watches therion wander off, ears perked up and eyes open. touches his mouth briefly, fingertips at his bottom lip.
maybe he'll buy a table. maybe two chairs. ]
... You're welcome. [ he says, lamely. and then he turns to make himself food, feeling like an idiot. ]
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he's very smug about this for no reason. jiaoqiu gets to feel the way his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he's pulling away - he likes to pigtail pull and he likes to win, and it's the god given nature of a thief to be just a little dramatic. a little extra.
he waves two fingers over his shoulder to the "you're welcome" and plops down in the armchair, draping both legs over the arm and balancing the plate on his stomach so he can eat like a creature, and also like he owns the place. this is the cat you have invited into your home to stay, unfortunately, and whether he stays or not, he will at least act like he does. the food is, of course, delicious and very spicy, which he finds he never quite gets all the way used to. much like jiaoqiu himself. (and maybe that's why staying, at least sometimes, could start to work. because he can't ever be too complacent here, and that suits therion better. a moment on his guard is a moment he's closer to safe.)
he's eaten most of his food by the time jiaoqiu is done - another part and parcel of life on the street. eat fast, eat your fill, and tuck the rest away if you can. ]
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it doesn't take him long to finish cooking - he checks on therion every so often, just leaning around to see if he's still there. very casually, like it doesn't matter if he is or not, of course. even when he doesn't have someone right in his line of vision, it's... really nice to have someone else in his apartment. his tail won't stop swishing back and forth as he works.
when he carries his own food out to the living room and sees that therion is nearly finished, he looks slightly amused. part of it is the street rat thing, but also, he likes that therion likes his food as much as he does. ]
And where am I supposed to sit when there's a big bad wolf in my armchair, hm?
[ he asks playfully, ear flicking. ]
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kicks back a little further and folds his arms behind his head? on purpose? because he is the worst kind of guy and he's clearly in some kind of mood here, though it's not a bad one. ]
Iunno. That sounds like a you problem.
[ uwu ]
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he hums, and then makes his way over and just sits down on therion. he moves the plate out of the way first, but he is indeed just going to plant his furry butt on therion's lap, as awkward as the positioning is, because he has a point to make and he will be making it.
he is clearly trying not to laugh. ]
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Urk - god, your ass is so bony -
[ LIKE HIS IS ANY BETTER well whatever at least he's not getting tail shoved in his face or something. he pushes at jiaoqiu until he's in a more comfortable position, kicking his legs kind of uselessly on the other side of the armchair before he readjusts and props himself up better. there. fine. he can sit in his lap. ]
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but once they're sitting, he flops down and makes himself comfortable, ears droopy in that sort of way that's more like he's very relaxed than upset. he will eat his omelette with his fingers. just because he's a cook doesn't mean he has to use cutlery.
and like, listen, foxes don't really purr, and neither do foxians, but the rumbling sound he makes once he's tucked up close is pretty close. ]
As if you are any less bony. [ uwu ]
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however, therion loves complaining so he's clearly not that bothered by it, and despite all his harrumphing and grumbling, he settles back with his attachment and watches him eat it with his fingers, one arm folded behind his head. out of sheer necessity, the other has to drop down in the space, and it ends up kind of braced around jiaoqiu, which is... fine, also. god he's so warm ]
You don't see me shoving it on you.
[ currently ]
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in any case, he eases into the arm around him with a happy sound, letting his tail settle on and between therion's legs, like a big poofy blanket. you cannot believe how huge his tail is, it's obnoxious. ]
Stop pouting.
[ he says primly, sucking hot sauce off his fingers like a five year old. they match! ]
How is your shoulder?
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anyway,
he gets a scowl over pouting. rude? and therion pinches him in the side for it, but he'll answer his question, nonchalant as ever. ]
Fine. [ why wouldn't it be. it's like a little sore but he's so distantly unaware of any pain in his body that he doesn't care about it. ] Not really any different than yesterday.
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the pinch gets a squawk, but he's so comfortable that he doesn't dislodge himself much. he does shift a bit so he can look at whatever therion is wearing - the bandages are probably covered, but. he believes therion, is the thing, he knows that he's got crazy pain tolerance, but the thing about pain is that it's supposed to tell you when something is wrong. jiaoqiu knows this so very, very well. he's had to be careful, over the years, because the senses he has that tell him things are wrong are broken.
a beat. ]
When I'm finished, I'd like to check. You shouldn't get your stitches soaked, but you can wet them a little, if you'd like to join me in the shower.
[ ear flick. ]
We will see if I get around to washing my sheets.
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he shrugs his good shoulder, though, in agreement. a shower sounds fine, though he's kind of comfortable at the moment. not that he'd admit it. ]
Thought you'd nag me out of the shower if I went in alone. [ "don't get them wet" "don't climb buildings" god it's like jiaoqiu doesn't want him to do anything!!!!!
the comment about the sheets gets an eyebrow raise in response, too, but he doesn't say anything about it because he doesn't have to. mr clean and his animal instincts, huh... ]
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If you will not take care of your injuries, then it falls to me to do so.
[ he says, taking another bite of his eggs. anyway, he'd made that comment because he thinks there is a decent chance that they'll end up rolling around in bed again. but as he's eating, he sort of drifts in a memory, with his head resting against therion's shoulder, his arm wrapped around him loosely.
a little hesitantly, like he's not sure if it's... okay, or if he should: ]
Moze used to scold me for waiting so long to change my bed sheets. I really should do it more often.
[ it's a bit of a trust exercise. things he'd never talk about, things he probably shouldn't talk about to therion specifically, but - offering a little of his past, some vulnerability, a little of what hurts him. ]
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anyway that's a fair enough comment - he rolls his eyes but doesn't say more about it. that's how they met, after all, with jiaoqiu cornering him into accepting actual medical treatment. he thinks that jiaoqiu is just going to ramble again at first, and he is, as always, perfectly comfortable to meld into silence. it's sort of what he's used to? and he just kind of closes his eyes and stays there.
...but. well. he's stupid sometimes, but he's not that stupid. the hesitance of that casual namedrop is enough, and his eyes flutter open again, looking up at the ceiling. he thinks, incorrectly, about when i was still trying to figure out what made me feel alive - because therion never had good relationships, and so of course the worst comes first, but he doesn't say anything about it.
instead, he just asks, quiet. neutral: ] ... Moze? [ and reaches back out to that hesitance to let him talk, if he wants to. ]
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My... [ he starts, and immediately gets stuck. what was moze, to him? friend? yes. lover - sometimes, but it seems ridiculous to call him his boyfriend. that wasn't ever what it was. what do you call codependency between three people? not a relationship, not really. he clears his throat. ] We worked together as General Feixiao's retainers. Her left and right hands.
[ he busies himself with his plate. ]
You remember that I stayed long enough because I had a question. [ before, when they were talking about recovering from nearly dying. ] The answer was that despite all my clever plans, both he and the General still died.
Talk about useless, hm?
[ he finishes his eggs. ]
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and it's - complicated. it's so complicated. therion's bad enough with emotions, let alone grief. even worse than that, in this case, his initial reaction isn't as sympathetic as it should be, but at least it's internalized, and with his face turned up to the ceiling, it's even harder to read.
that's what happens, when you lean too much on others. that's what happens, when you care too much. when you get too involved with other people, bad things happen. they hurt you, or they betray you, whether they mean to or not. he knows that's unfair, but he thinks it anyway, and he thinks about the miserable shell of a person sitting in front of the gravestones, and closes his eyes.
therion is quiet for a long, long moment as jiaoqiu finishes off with that last, self-depreciating comment. ]
... People die. [ he says, eventually, his voice dropping low. ] Not your fault.
[ he could probably phrase this in a softer way if he was a better person, but he's not. he has to say the harsh thing, usually in the most unfortunate way possible. he doesn't know the full circumstance, or if jiaoqiu would tell him, even, but there's nothing about this story that suggests anything that's jiaoqiu's fault. he can't call that useless. ]
What was your question?
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people die. it's not your fault. therion's right, it wasn't his fault, but it ruined him nonetheless.
he doesn't seem to mind the harsh words. were it anybody else, maybe he'd shut off, but he knows therion so well by now. if he were to get angry every time therion didn't know how to be better at comfort, they would not be in this apartment, together. and, besides that, he doesn't expect therion to comfort him. he doesn't deserve it, first of all, but second of all, this wasn't a bid for pity. maybe it's just a little bit of insight.
as for the question: ]
Oh - was what I did worth it. [ he says idly. ] If they had survived, it would've been.
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his harshness doesn't come from a place of cruelty, not really. therion's softer than he seems, no matter how much he puts his sharp, harsh front forwards, and he doesn't immediately dismiss what jiaoqiu says or what he went through no matter how he sees it. he needs to know the full story, anyway. his tone stays neutral, but he's clearly listening, clearly - observing him, too.]
... How soon after did it happen? [ after jiaoqiu went blind, at least. ]
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he fiddles with his plate. ]
After I went blind? Immediately. [ he says, and he is so desperately trying to not let the void creep in. therion reacted so poorly to it, the night before. he doesn't want to ruin this. but it's lurking, watching. waiting for his guard to slip. ]
I woke up blind, and they told me that Feixiao and Moze both had fallen to the borisin. Hoolay, was his name. You may have heard of him.
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well - yeah. he knows that name. therion frowns. ]
... Shit.
[ sometimes, well, shit is really all you can really say in the face of that, because. yeah, of course therion knows hoolay, because he's infamous like therion is infamous, whispered names in shady corners, places shot up with illegitimacy. that's someone he has kept a wide, wide berth from, because he doesn't fuck around in places that can get him killed if he doesn't have to, because he doesn't deal in anything but trying to survive. he's not heard of him around this city in a while, but that doesn't mean anything, not with the long lived types.
so, that name is enough to tell the story. he doesn't know why a general of some kind got involved with that clown, but he can guess. and coming back to jiaoqiu - that he'd done so much to survive, only for the people to disappear in the end, making it all futile, it's...
it tells him what he thinks is true - that those attachments are what gets you pain. one way or another, by death or by betrayal, that's all it ever brings. he wants to run, but he doesn't. i like it when you stay. he bites back every normal awful thing he says for a second, and looks down at him out of the corner of his visible eye. ]
When?
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