but he doesn't press, because he sees that vulnerable look, and it makes him ache. therion eases closer, and jiaoqiu tugs him further, tries to get him to lay down. he can't stay sitting up for too long, it makes him dizzy and all of his body scream with it - but he wants therion close, he wants to try and poorly keep him here. he's so frightened by the idea of therion leaving. this time, not because he can't bear to be attached, but because he thinks jiaoqiu would be safer.
he strokes his fingers up and down therion's back. tentative. ]
... When he took me, I decided I would do whatever I had to in order to stay alive. [ he says, finally, pressing his face against therion's hair. he swallows hard. ] Because of you. Because I wanted... because these days in that hotel, I have been... so awake. With you.
the past twelve hours have been a long series of painful emotional punches. the first came when jiaoqiu was gone; the second, the chatter about the informant; the third, seeing jiaoqiu as injured as he was, dead in the eyes. it makes i have been so awake, with you stick even harder. he'd have to be stupid to not notice that, that he's not had to shake jiaoqiu out of his own memories. all of that could have just been destroyed, but he's more present than he would have ever expected if he ever woke up, and he is not only present, but he's present because of therion.
he lets himself be eased. he's tired, too. painkillers take the edge off, but he's used to a sort of constant pain most days anyway - the blood loss, however, is not easy to make up no matter what magic that doctor used. for once, he lets himself go, moving to lean on his arm, first, and then slowly, slowly lays down beside him. it feels so intimate. so close. something he's stolen away and something he doesn't want to let go.
he's so tense. even exhausted, he's so tense. he lets him press his nose in his hair, and for the second there, he lets himself hide and closes his eyes, and some feral creature goes still and quiet, the lightning-and-thunder in his chest settling down to low rain.
he swallows. hard. and says, voice rough: ] That wasn't normal. This is.
[ a repetition. this is my normal. this - the danger, the hurt, the constant running. this is normal to therion, and he doesn't want to throw more blood all over his life. it's almost like an admittance, the tentative step forward once more.
(but maybe... maybe it was already there, in the first place.) ]
I know. You think I am not used to this, but I spent most of my youth on a war-torn battlefield.
[ he has been through worse. he poisoned himself and woke up, in the dark, to hear that the people he loved most in the world had died. this time, he woke up, in the dark, and the person he loves most in this world was alive and there, reminding him he isn't blind.
there's something about the intimacy of letting someone this close when everything hurts. therion is so tense and jiaoqiu just wants him to relax. just a little. he wants to know that therion will be there when he wakes up. he wants to have some kind of certainty, he wants to be stolen. he wants. it makes his eyes burn. he hasn't cried in years, and he doesn't think he even can anymore.
so instead, he tangles himself up in therion, injuries be damned, and strokes at his uninjured skin, and tries not to let nihility tell him none of this matters, tries to push away the voice that says what is the use of trying to hold onto a kite that wants the gale more than you? ]
It could be a little easier, if you would let it. If you would let me. [ he says, exhausted, voice cracking slightly. ] I am running out of ways to tell you that I care about you.
[ and not a single thing is going to change it. nothing has. not even this. ]
[ there's silence, at first - not unusual - while he tries to find the right words to say. he lets jiaoqiu curl closer, lets him tangle them together, all gangly limbs and fluffed tail, soaks up that tiny, tiny bit of warmth like curling around a candle on a cold's winter night.
and slowly, slowly, his hand comes up, and curls tight in whatever clothes lingsha stuck jiaoqiu in, almost white knuckles, forehead pressed to an uninjured piece of him, and therion swallows, hard. his voice almost cracks, too, tiny, raw. ]
I know.
[ therion knows. he knows, of course he knows jiaoqiu cares. he'd nearly been spooked into thinking he betrayed him, too, only to find it was almost the opposite, that instead he stuck to life when he could have just given up, after therion told him to stop having a death wish, he stayed, and he survived, and now after all of that, he still wants to be here. jiaoqiu is still here.
caring about something is terrifying. he has nothing, as a thief. no place to lay his head, no precious gifts or items, nothing that he has to worry about being stolen away, until now, and it was nearly taken. and he'd risked his entire life to get him back, terrified, past the fear of the betrayal, trusted his stupid gut and trusted jiaoqiu, and this time, it was right. so he knows. he knows, he knows that he cares, and he knows...
he knows he does too. admitting to it feels so impossible, because it makes it real. and if it's real, it can be lost, broken, stolen, taken away. but what makes it more real than this? than jiaoqiu's blood all over his clothes? in order to begin to heal, someone said to him once upon a time, we have to learn how to trust again.
another long, silent moment, his eyes closed, fingers held tight, and he says, just loud enough to be heard: ]
I thought you were dead. [ the utter terror he'd felt when he saw him in that stupid chair, dead eyed and bloodied and not moving, gripped him to his core. i thought you were dead, because of me.
it's his way of saying it back, that he cares, too, that he cares ore than he knows how to put into words. i let you into my life. i let you into my safehouse. i risked my life for you and i'd do it a hundred times over if i had to to keep you alive. i trust you, i trust you, i trust you. he closes his eyes, and presses his forehead into him with a little more pressure, mouth drawn into a tight line.
maybe the answer lies there. maybe, in the sound of a fluttering heartbeat that’s so much steadier than it was when therion found him, that’s the idea. maybe he can’t say it. maybe he should remember that he’s a thief.
he pushes himself up, and reaches back- clever fingers, small hands- and finds his face, his jaw, and surges up to press a kiss to his mouth. its clumsier than usual, missing the mark at first, then readjusting. he’s exhausted, for one, but second, it’s just driven by pure, gut emotion. a barrier that was only broken fairly recently- and the kiss itself is closed mouthed and desperate all the same. understand. please understand. ]
[ it's a little warmer when they're curled together. he's all broken bones and gouges, but there's a blanket on this bed and he reaches for it to rest it over them. he lets therion grip at his clothes, he lets him hide. he wraps an arm around therion, sliding a hand up to rest against the back of his neck, protective. it's safe here. for both of them. it doesn't always have to be, but it is now.
the little almost-crack in his voice makes his heart ache so badly. he'd do anything to ease it for a while.
and he's going to reply, but therion cuts him off. he kisses him, and jiaoqiu lets out a little sound, surprised, but - it's not unwelcome. the meaning isn't lost either. they hadn't kissed, an unspoken rule, because it was too much, because it felt too close. but then they did, and now jiaoqiu can't stop doing it whenever he can because it makes his heart kickstart so hard in his chest, and now is no different. therion puts his hands on either side of his face and kisses him with a sort of desperation that makes jiaoqiu's entire body light up.
there's an emotion there that he can't name, that he doesn't know how to name. and he's still - uncertain, because for a creature whose feelings are broken and barely pasted together, it's hard to not have words. but he'd be stupid if he didn't understand this at least a little. it's the same feeling that he got watching therion paint his nails, it's the same feeling as therion making snarky comments about the heroine in a horror movie, making fun of him for jumping at the music sting when the murderer shows up. it's the same feeling he gets when he woke up in the morning and it didn't matter what the fuck they were hiding from, the sun came through the curtains and shone over therion's hair, the slight wrinkle of his nose as he adjusted and hid his face in the pillow, not letting go of jiaoqiu and it's so dangerous, it's so terrifying to have something to love because it opens you up for so much hurt. noises are louder and colors are brighter, and sometimes he takes a bite out of an apple and he swears he can taste it, sweet and crunchy, it doesn't have to be slathered in spice - he doesn't have to hurt, to have something nice.
he doesn't have to hurt to have something nice. it doesn't have to hurt.
i thought you were dead.
it digs in and claws at him. he remembers therion angrily demanding he speak up, he remembers every movement that therion made to make sure that jiaoqiu didn't hit the wall or get injured further, he remembers therion running for a long, long time, taking claws and bites and danger to get to him. he didn't wait. he came for jiaoqiu immediately, it was barely hours before therion found him. it could've been so much worse if therion didn't trust that jiaoqiu was taken and didn't leave.
just as clumsily, he brings a hand up to rest on therion's and kisses him back, trying to meet him. he hears it. he's trying to hear it. he's trying to take that step forward instead of backing away, he is ripping his broken and falling-apart heart out of his chest and holding it out to therion, hoping that he understands, too. that i am awake is i let you into my safehouse is i trust you, i care, i want you and i'm trying. ]
[ this is so much easier than trying to say it out loud. whether he feels completely shaken apart or otherwise, this is something he can do. despite everything, his hands on his face are so gentle - avoiding the clawed mark on his cheek, his fingertips bare pressure, enough to hold jiaoqiu like he's fragile, with care. as always, therion's actions betray his true intentions, betray his soft, squishy core. there's no walls in the way that he kisses him, closed mouthed and lingering, trying to make him understand.
he's stolen this treasure. this nice thing, despite its unfinished edges and sharp pieces, despite how they're not always on the same page. and for the first time in his life, he's stolen something not just out of curiosity or necessity, or even to prove something to himself, or a pathological need to simply steal. he's stolen something to keep it. not to pawn it off. not to return it. he's stolen something to have for his own.
when he pulls back, it's not very far - an inch or two, breathing harder than he really should be from something so simple. exhausting, emotionally and physically, but nevertheless, and he feels his heart up in his throat and realizes he's not going to say anything useful here, either. so -
so, he just shifts a little, and bonks their foreheads together. it could probably stand to have been a little bit gentler than it was, but he's never had soft edges, and he closes his eyes, good and bad, and leaves his hands on jiaoqiu's face and just stays there. maybe if he takes jiaoqiu's hand, and moves it off of his face, and pulls it down, and sets it on his chest, not caring if he touches where he was hurt under his bandages, maybe he'll be able to understand how hard his heart's thundering. how scared he was. how scared he is of this. how the whole reason he was so afraid was because of that quickened heartbeat, because to have something good has only even been an impossibility, and now that he might have it, the thought of losing it is just as scary as having it, all the same.
and after a long moment of silence, therion says, his voice rough and so quiet between them, a soft rumble in his chest, with a hint of a little self-depreciating dryness: ] Not exactly good at easy.
[ admitting he's not good at something is also kind of a sign he's trying because sometimes you're really prideful, but it's true. he knows he's bad at it. but the admittance is just that - he's acquiescing. it could be easier, if you'd let me. okay. he can try. ]
[ despite everything, despite how tired he is and how injured they both are, he thinks this is necessary. medicine doesn't always come in the form of pills or bandages, and he's always maintained that. sometimes, it's food. sometimes, it's contact, sometimes it's another person, sometimes it's this. curled up together, safe for the moment, gentle and just a little ragged at the edges.
he's so gentle, and jiaoqiu hums with it, petting his hair. it's a sort of delicate that he isn't used to, but he absolutely does not hate it. and when therion pulls back just enough to bonk their foreheads together, hands on his face like he's something breakable, he feels a little dizzy. this amount of affection, freely given, initiated, is new, and it's something that he's getting addicted to. jiaoqiu drags his fingers down therion's arm, touching just to touch, to be connected. rests that hand on therion's chest, careful, and soaks in being close like this. ]
I know. [ he says, a little wryly. a beat. ] It's alright. I'm not going anywhere. You'll have plenty of time to practice.
[ therion has stolen something for his own, and jiaoqiu thinks that's silly because he didn't ever have to steal it in the first place, it was already his - but he'll let him think he's getting away with something. it's okay, because jiaoqiu is being selfish and letting himself want something, too. ]
It isn't as if... I'm good at it either, I suppose.
[ ugh, don't phrase it like he has to practice. therion pulls a face. he learns by experience, thank you very much, which is exactly what jiaoqiu is saying, but despite forgiving claims a few nights ago he does have an ego.
thankfully, it doesn't really mean anything beyond his usual grumbling. he tries not to react to the fingertips on his arm, over bandages, trusting and allowing him in his space, tries to pretend it doesn't send goosebumps up his forearms. i'm not going anywhere. he has to do something to keep from jittering away or at least to save face, so after a second, therion frees his hands and reaches for the blankets, and pulls them up over them both up to the chin. he's small enough that he could disappear if he moved, and that suits him just fine.
with that, he huffs. now that the emotional high of the moment is out of the way and there's a little extra armor, therion's a little less unmarred, a little more comfortable, and a bit of grumbling helped to ease the way of that, too. jiaoqiu says he's not good at it, and that actually does get a snort. it hurts his chest a little, but it's not in a bad way. ]
Yeah. I could've told you that months ago. [ rude. lacking heat. ] Fucking psychopath inviting a thief into your house.
[ in the blankets, jiaoqiu's tail twitches, and then flops over to settle over therion's legs. his face free, jiaoqiu tugs therion closer and tucks him against his chest. it kind of hurts to do, but whatever. he doesn't care, the closeness is more important to him. ]
I had nothing to lose. [ he hums, adjusting so he can run his fingers through therion's hair. ] Things change.
[ he knows therion is grumbling to save face, and he ignores it. ]
Will you let me say thank you? Really hear it, now.
[ unless lingsha cleaned him up his hair is so gross because someone bled in it a lot. also he smells like fire and smoke and. incense, which is like nice smoke so that's an improvement. it's all just bad.
the warmth over his leg is becoming increasingly familiar. is he going to let himself have this, from now on? despite everything? his eyes close, head spinning, heart heavy and light all at once. therion listens to jiaoqiu, the rumble of his voice where he's settled, nearly hidden under the blankets, and then huffs again, muttering under his breath. ]
Can't exactly stop you. [ he has tried many creative efforts to get jiaoqiu to stop talking with mixed success. but, after a moment, he lifts his head from where he's been tucked just enough to peer at him from behind his bangs, expression pulled into a small frown, but - a sign that he's listening. alright, fine. ]
[ he does in fact wrinkle his nose a little at the smell, but it's fine.
and when therion peeks up at him like that, from under his bangs, jiaoqiu's heart squeezes so tight in his chest that it nearly takes the wind out of him. how many people have ever seen him like this? he can't imagine it's been many, with how closely guarded therion is. that thought from before, that he can't lie to himself about how he feels, comes back even stronger, and he has to bite his lip for a second to stop himself. don't be silly. just take this, don't ruin it.
jiaoqiu takes a deep breath. and then he brings his hand down to gently brush therion's hair out of his face. just enough, just so he can see both of therion's eyes, no armor. ]
Thank you. For saving me.
[ from hoolay, but. for saving him from a life where the only thing he had to look forward to was sitting in front of two graves for eight solid hours once a year. it's clear he means more than just today. ]
[ just like that, he's laid totally bare. there's a tiny second where he almost flinches away out of sheer instinct, but he stops himself - the hand curled in his clothes tightens, hard, but he keeps his face steady for at least a second. both of his eyes, bright and murky green, focus up on jiaoqiu's face and he takes in a small, shallow breath.
no armor. and then jiaoqiu says that, and of course he'd have to be an idiot not to understand what he means. it feels overwhelming - there's a rush of warmth in his chest that aches something fierce, the formation of glass from sandy ground, heat and healing and reforming all at once. some part of him wants to protest, that defensive. does he look like a hero? it was his fault that he ended up there. normally, he'd play it off as nothing, shake his head and scoff, let him know it was just out of convenience's sake, for payback, but there's no convenience or payback or tradeoff here, and there hasn't been for a long, long time. he could tell himself that he's using jiaoqiu, because he's a bad person, and used to tell himself so often - it was just for sex, just for knowing you have a healer in your pocket, just for a free meal - but it's a lie. it's a poorly constructed lie. no thief worth their own skin would have run into that wolf's den, piss off a powerfully connected crime lord, to save someone else. he didn't even hesitate, not for a fucking second.
he searches jiaoqiu's face - for a lie, maybe, for anything that could tell him that this wasn't real, and for once, he lets himself believe that this might be something he can trust. that it's somewhere he can rest his head.
therion swallows. hard. ]
Yeah. [ the awkward, husky-voiced, raw one word response more or less says everything. that he's accepting to thanks. that he understands what he's trying to say. his chest, his throat - they feel tight, burning like he might cry, which is insane, because he hasn't done that since he was a literal baby and he has no plans of doing it now, but he doesn't look away. yeah. you're welcome. he's not sure if he can say that, but the emotion's there as he stares up at him, for just a second like a lost shelter cat who finally found a home. ]
[ the thing that moves him the most is that therion doesn't look away.
that's the biggest thing that tells him therion is trying. he knows that the meaning behind his words hit, and he can see that he's fighting it, and fighting that. it's the same thing jiaoqiu does. sometimes you have to wrestle like eight layers of self loathing and trauma to get to a point where you can just hear something, and accept it. therion looks at him, and jiaoqiu doesn't break his gaze, just waits patiently, lets him sort through it. watches the expression on his face turn from something like crunched, shattered glass to a window. there's still cracks. it's still being repaired, but the damage isn't so devastating.
therion put himself so solidly into danger for him, and he takes the thank you, and jiaoqiu, stupidly, is so very proud of him. the look that he gives him makes all of this worth it. a realization that he can rely on someone, that he has a home. it's this that makes jiaoqiu believe that therion is going to try, and it settles the uncertainty in him. no matter what comes next, it'll be okay.
there's no lie in his own expression, it's - probably the most honest he's ever been. and jiaoqiu leans a little. presses a kiss to therion's forehead, and then lifts his chin a bit to kiss him on the mouth, in that same sort of way - understanding. hearing it. keeping it close. a tacit response. he heard what therion was trying to tell him, and he believes it, he's not backing away this time.
and when he pulls away, he doesn't go far. he strokes therion's back, fingers up and down his spine. he doesn't say anything, he just lets therion sit with it for a bit.
lets himself sit with it a bit, too. his chest hurts, and his eyes are burning. ]
[ thank god he lets him sit with it because he's going to need a xanax and about ten years to fully process the span of emotions he's had in the past twenty four hours. the kiss to the forehead is such a sweet, tender gesture that for a second it feels like he can't breathe. it's so unfamiliar, so unknown - he might need ten years to get anywhere even remotely used to that, too.
he takes a breath, a little shakier than he'd like for it to be, and his eyes flutter shut at the gesture. by the time it comes to his mouth in a kiss, he's somewhere between exhausted and wide awake, firefly sparks flickering through his synapses, moving so slowly and too fast all at once. it's such a strange, unmooring feeling, adrift at sea with someone's hands on your waist, but it's not bad. for once, he's trying to let himself have something. for once, something good shines in.
i had nothing to lose. things change. yeah. yeah, he gets that, now, doesn't he?
that's about it for therion, who cannot stand to stay face to face, open to open any longer than that or he might actually implode on the spot. he's learning how to display a tiny bit of emotional intimacy. he is not anywhere near the stage of looking lovingly into someone's eyes. red cheeked, he huffs again, dropping his head down and burrowing a little further into the blankets, nearly disappearing underneath them so there's just a tuft of his white hair sticking out. ]
Happy fucking vacation. [ he mutters, eventually - grousing, grumbling, sarcastic, but it's at least at both of their expense. yay. what an ending. ]
[ no, that's absolutely fair, because jiaoqiu closes his eyes after he pulls back, forehead to forehead. he also cannot handle staring. he's fine with therion sinking under the blankets as long as he doesn't try to leave. and like, eventually he'll allow therion to be more than five feet away from him, but right now he thinks that this is the only thing keeping him grounded, so.
therion's comment makes him laugh, despite himself, and it dissolves into a little cough that he muffles. he's fine, he just feels like he's been run through with a sword. in multiple ways. ]
I think we need a vacation from the vacation. [ he says, exhausted. sorry if he curls a little closer, he's fuckin cold. blood loss will do that to you. ] We can recover here.
[ as he heard, lingsha would bring down unholy levels of hell if anybody tried to get them, so. at least there's that. ]
[ okay, yes, it's much better to be half hidden. armor firmly back in place, though it's really too late now - jiaoqiu's seen his squishy underbelly in more ways that anyone else in the entire world has. even darius, though, then again, he'd hardly built up any armor in the first place back then.
curling closer is fine. he does not care - he is also cold, and exhausted, though if he closes his eyes he's just going to see darius' stupid fucking face staring down at him again and he's not about that, so a more normal level of conversation is settling for therion in a hundred different ways. there's a soft grunt that could maybe be a laugh. ]
Yeah. I heard. [ that lady was shouting the borisin's ear off. which... unfortunately, the logical progression of that makes his face pull into a frown, and the rest of the cogs move into place, ticking through the plan of the future. the future. god. ] You have weird friends.
[ ... ]
... Gonna need to get out of the city, this time. [ he says, quietly. muffled. ]
[ if you give a fox an emotional intimacy, he's going to want another one, so therion's tsundere days are limited,
he tucks the blankets in around them, resting his head against therion's. he'll just deal with the nasty blood hair. whatever. they can shower later. right now he thinks if he got up he'd just collapse. and that's not even counting his busted leg. ]
My friends are as weird as I am. [ this is not a good defense, dude. as for the rest: ]
That's alright. Any suggestions?
[ like. easy. he'll just pick up and go. whatever. who cares. ]
That's not as good of a defense as you think it is.
[ i mean listen he'll say it. seeing as how therion is here, with him, he is not excluded from that number of people but like at least he knows he's a freak.
the easy response - the simplicity of "sure, okay, where are we going" shouldn't surprise him. he pauses. looks up, now, from his blanket armor and likely dislodging jiaoqiu, but he needs to look at him. one eyebrow raised, expression a little flat. ]
You understand what I'm saying here, right? I don't know for how long.
[ after all, he did used to disappear for weeks at a time. he still does, sometimes, though time has taught him to be kinder about it, to at least open up an avenue of communication, and to stay for more than a few hours when he returns. ]
[ he meets that gaze! he can't... raise his eyebrow back because his face hurts too bad, so instead he's just serene, letting therion look. ]
I'm afraid I'm not as stupid as you sometimes think I am. [ he says, amused. ] I understand the implications, so I'll ask again - any suggestions?
[ he's really not afraid to just quit his job and go. it's not like he has any attachment to this town other than like... sushang and lingsha, but they'll be okay. sushang will be fine with texts, and lingsha spends half her time with jiaoqiu wanting to pin him to a washing line to dry. ]
............I've got a couple safehouses in a couple different cities. [ therion mutters. his face is burning. ] And if I don't have one, I can get one.
he's a little amused by this, but he doesn't tease...... for now. ]
I can supplement our cash flow by treating people that we find. [ he's not good at thieving so he's going to leave that to therion, but. ] I may have connections in places, as well. Foxians often help each other, even if they've never met before.
[ he really doesn't look that pleased about the connections part, but that's probably not surprising. he's also lacking a lot of his usual sourness because he just got really embarrassed and rightfully so. ahem. ]
Former's better. [ than the connections. ] Don't really need those.
[ he's too slow to trust for that. just because he trusts jiaoqiu does not mean he trusts his friends. he trusted lingsha out of sheer necessity and also because he passed out. ]
... world's your oyster, I guess. The farther away from this place, the better.
[ local thief absolutely disarmed by emotions news at eleven
he looks slightly huffy about the connections thing but. whatever. he supposes he can't trust anybody he's never met before, but... depending on where they go, he does know people who would never sell him out.
he shrugs. ]
I don't care where we go. I've seen the world enough. We can go far. But we aren't going anywhere until I can walk.
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[ he scolds, because that isn't the point.
but he doesn't press, because he sees that vulnerable look, and it makes him ache. therion eases closer, and jiaoqiu tugs him further, tries to get him to lay down. he can't stay sitting up for too long, it makes him dizzy and all of his body scream with it - but he wants therion close, he wants to try and poorly keep him here. he's so frightened by the idea of therion leaving. this time, not because he can't bear to be attached, but because he thinks jiaoqiu would be safer.
he strokes his fingers up and down therion's back. tentative. ]
... When he took me, I decided I would do whatever I had to in order to stay alive. [ he says, finally, pressing his face against therion's hair. he swallows hard. ] Because of you. Because I wanted... because these days in that hotel, I have been... so awake. With you.
[ so. please don't bolt. ]
no subject
the past twelve hours have been a long series of painful emotional punches. the first came when jiaoqiu was gone; the second, the chatter about the informant; the third, seeing jiaoqiu as injured as he was, dead in the eyes. it makes i have been so awake, with you stick even harder. he'd have to be stupid to not notice that, that he's not had to shake jiaoqiu out of his own memories. all of that could have just been destroyed, but he's more present than he would have ever expected if he ever woke up, and he is not only present, but he's present because of therion.
he lets himself be eased. he's tired, too. painkillers take the edge off, but he's used to a sort of constant pain most days anyway - the blood loss, however, is not easy to make up no matter what magic that doctor used. for once, he lets himself go, moving to lean on his arm, first, and then slowly, slowly lays down beside him. it feels so intimate. so close. something he's stolen away and something he doesn't want to let go.
he's so tense. even exhausted, he's so tense. he lets him press his nose in his hair, and for the second there, he lets himself hide and closes his eyes, and some feral creature goes still and quiet, the lightning-and-thunder in his chest settling down to low rain.
he swallows. hard. and says, voice rough: ] That wasn't normal. This is.
[ a repetition. this is my normal. this - the danger, the hurt, the constant running. this is normal to therion, and he doesn't want to throw more blood all over his life. it's almost like an admittance, the tentative step forward once more.
(but maybe... maybe it was already there, in the first place.) ]
no subject
[ he has been through worse. he poisoned himself and woke up, in the dark, to hear that the people he loved most in the world had died. this time, he woke up, in the dark, and the person he loves most in this world was alive and there, reminding him he isn't blind.
there's something about the intimacy of letting someone this close when everything hurts. therion is so tense and jiaoqiu just wants him to relax. just a little. he wants to know that therion will be there when he wakes up. he wants to have some kind of certainty, he wants to be stolen. he wants. it makes his eyes burn. he hasn't cried in years, and he doesn't think he even can anymore.
so instead, he tangles himself up in therion, injuries be damned, and strokes at his uninjured skin, and tries not to let nihility tell him none of this matters, tries to push away the voice that says what is the use of trying to hold onto a kite that wants the gale more than you? ]
It could be a little easier, if you would let it. If you would let me. [ he says, exhausted, voice cracking slightly. ] I am running out of ways to tell you that I care about you.
[ and not a single thing is going to change it. nothing has. not even this. ]
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and slowly, slowly, his hand comes up, and curls tight in whatever clothes lingsha stuck jiaoqiu in, almost white knuckles, forehead pressed to an uninjured piece of him, and therion swallows, hard. his voice almost cracks, too, tiny, raw. ]
I know.
[ therion knows. he knows, of course he knows jiaoqiu cares. he'd nearly been spooked into thinking he betrayed him, too, only to find it was almost the opposite, that instead he stuck to life when he could have just given up, after therion told him to stop having a death wish, he stayed, and he survived, and now after all of that, he still wants to be here. jiaoqiu is still here.
caring about something is terrifying. he has nothing, as a thief. no place to lay his head, no precious gifts or items, nothing that he has to worry about being stolen away, until now, and it was nearly taken. and he'd risked his entire life to get him back, terrified, past the fear of the betrayal, trusted his stupid gut and trusted jiaoqiu, and this time, it was right. so he knows. he knows, he knows that he cares, and he knows...
he knows he does too. admitting to it feels so impossible, because it makes it real. and if it's real, it can be lost, broken, stolen, taken away. but what makes it more real than this? than jiaoqiu's blood all over his clothes? in order to begin to heal, someone said to him once upon a time, we have to learn how to trust again.
another long, silent moment, his eyes closed, fingers held tight, and he says, just loud enough to be heard: ]
I thought you were dead. [ the utter terror he'd felt when he saw him in that stupid chair, dead eyed and bloodied and not moving, gripped him to his core. i thought you were dead, because of me.
it's his way of saying it back, that he cares, too, that he cares ore than he knows how to put into words. i let you into my life. i let you into my safehouse. i risked my life for you and i'd do it a hundred times over if i had to to keep you alive. i trust you, i trust you, i trust you. he closes his eyes, and presses his forehead into him with a little more pressure, mouth drawn into a tight line.
maybe the answer lies there. maybe, in the sound of a fluttering heartbeat that’s so much steadier than it was when therion found him, that’s the idea. maybe he can’t say it. maybe he should remember that he’s a thief.
he pushes himself up, and reaches back- clever fingers, small hands- and finds his face, his jaw, and surges up to press a kiss to his mouth. its clumsier than usual, missing the mark at first, then readjusting. he’s exhausted, for one, but second, it’s just driven by pure, gut emotion. a barrier that was only broken fairly recently- and the kiss itself is closed mouthed and desperate all the same. understand. please understand. ]
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the little almost-crack in his voice makes his heart ache so badly. he'd do anything to ease it for a while.
and he's going to reply, but therion cuts him off. he kisses him, and jiaoqiu lets out a little sound, surprised, but - it's not unwelcome. the meaning isn't lost either. they hadn't kissed, an unspoken rule, because it was too much, because it felt too close. but then they did, and now jiaoqiu can't stop doing it whenever he can because it makes his heart kickstart so hard in his chest, and now is no different. therion puts his hands on either side of his face and kisses him with a sort of desperation that makes jiaoqiu's entire body light up.
there's an emotion there that he can't name, that he doesn't know how to name. and he's still - uncertain, because for a creature whose feelings are broken and barely pasted together, it's hard to not have words. but he'd be stupid if he didn't understand this at least a little. it's the same feeling that he got watching therion paint his nails, it's the same feeling as therion making snarky comments about the heroine in a horror movie, making fun of him for jumping at the music sting when the murderer shows up. it's the same feeling he gets when he woke up in the morning and it didn't matter what the fuck they were hiding from, the sun came through the curtains and shone over therion's hair, the slight wrinkle of his nose as he adjusted and hid his face in the pillow, not letting go of jiaoqiu and it's so dangerous, it's so terrifying to have something to love because it opens you up for so much hurt. noises are louder and colors are brighter, and sometimes he takes a bite out of an apple and he swears he can taste it, sweet and crunchy, it doesn't have to be slathered in spice - he doesn't have to hurt, to have something nice.
he doesn't have to hurt to have something nice. it doesn't have to hurt.
i thought you were dead.
it digs in and claws at him. he remembers therion angrily demanding he speak up, he remembers every movement that therion made to make sure that jiaoqiu didn't hit the wall or get injured further, he remembers therion running for a long, long time, taking claws and bites and danger to get to him. he didn't wait. he came for jiaoqiu immediately, it was barely hours before therion found him. it could've been so much worse if therion didn't trust that jiaoqiu was taken and didn't leave.
just as clumsily, he brings a hand up to rest on therion's and kisses him back, trying to meet him. he hears it. he's trying to hear it. he's trying to take that step forward instead of backing away, he is ripping his broken and falling-apart heart out of his chest and holding it out to therion, hoping that he understands, too. that i am awake is i let you into my safehouse is i trust you, i care, i want you and i'm trying. ]
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he's stolen this treasure. this nice thing, despite its unfinished edges and sharp pieces, despite how they're not always on the same page. and for the first time in his life, he's stolen something not just out of curiosity or necessity, or even to prove something to himself, or a pathological need to simply steal. he's stolen something to keep it. not to pawn it off. not to return it. he's stolen something to have for his own.
when he pulls back, it's not very far - an inch or two, breathing harder than he really should be from something so simple. exhausting, emotionally and physically, but nevertheless, and he feels his heart up in his throat and realizes he's not going to say anything useful here, either. so -
so, he just shifts a little, and bonks their foreheads together. it could probably stand to have been a little bit gentler than it was, but he's never had soft edges, and he closes his eyes, good and bad, and leaves his hands on jiaoqiu's face and just stays there. maybe if he takes jiaoqiu's hand, and moves it off of his face, and pulls it down, and sets it on his chest, not caring if he touches where he was hurt under his bandages, maybe he'll be able to understand how hard his heart's thundering. how scared he was. how scared he is of this. how the whole reason he was so afraid was because of that quickened heartbeat, because to have something good has only even been an impossibility, and now that he might have it, the thought of losing it is just as scary as having it, all the same.
and after a long moment of silence, therion says, his voice rough and so quiet between them, a soft rumble in his chest, with a hint of a little self-depreciating dryness: ] Not exactly good at easy.
[ admitting he's not good at something is also kind of a sign he's trying because sometimes you're really prideful, but it's true. he knows he's bad at it. but the admittance is just that - he's acquiescing. it could be easier, if you'd let me. okay. he can try. ]
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he's so gentle, and jiaoqiu hums with it, petting his hair. it's a sort of delicate that he isn't used to, but he absolutely does not hate it. and when therion pulls back just enough to bonk their foreheads together, hands on his face like he's something breakable, he feels a little dizzy. this amount of affection, freely given, initiated, is new, and it's something that he's getting addicted to. jiaoqiu drags his fingers down therion's arm, touching just to touch, to be connected. rests that hand on therion's chest, careful, and soaks in being close like this. ]
I know. [ he says, a little wryly. a beat. ] It's alright. I'm not going anywhere. You'll have plenty of time to practice.
[ therion has stolen something for his own, and jiaoqiu thinks that's silly because he didn't ever have to steal it in the first place, it was already his - but he'll let him think he's getting away with something. it's okay, because jiaoqiu is being selfish and letting himself want something, too. ]
It isn't as if... I'm good at it either, I suppose.
[ he'll admit that. ]
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thankfully, it doesn't really mean anything beyond his usual grumbling. he tries not to react to the fingertips on his arm, over bandages, trusting and allowing him in his space, tries to pretend it doesn't send goosebumps up his forearms. i'm not going anywhere. he has to do something to keep from jittering away or at least to save face, so after a second, therion frees his hands and reaches for the blankets, and pulls them up over them both up to the chin. he's small enough that he could disappear if he moved, and that suits him just fine.
with that, he huffs. now that the emotional high of the moment is out of the way and there's a little extra armor, therion's a little less unmarred, a little more comfortable, and a bit of grumbling helped to ease the way of that, too. jiaoqiu says he's not good at it, and that actually does get a snort. it hurts his chest a little, but it's not in a bad way. ]
Yeah. I could've told you that months ago. [ rude. lacking heat. ] Fucking psychopath inviting a thief into your house.
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I had nothing to lose. [ he hums, adjusting so he can run his fingers through therion's hair. ] Things change.
[ he knows therion is grumbling to save face, and he ignores it. ]
Will you let me say thank you? Really hear it, now.
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the warmth over his leg is becoming increasingly familiar. is he going to let himself have this, from now on? despite everything? his eyes close, head spinning, heart heavy and light all at once. therion listens to jiaoqiu, the rumble of his voice where he's settled, nearly hidden under the blankets, and then huffs again, muttering under his breath. ]
Can't exactly stop you. [ he has tried many creative efforts to get jiaoqiu to stop talking with mixed success. but, after a moment, he lifts his head from where he's been tucked just enough to peer at him from behind his bangs, expression pulled into a small frown, but - a sign that he's listening. alright, fine. ]
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and when therion peeks up at him like that, from under his bangs, jiaoqiu's heart squeezes so tight in his chest that it nearly takes the wind out of him. how many people have ever seen him like this? he can't imagine it's been many, with how closely guarded therion is. that thought from before, that he can't lie to himself about how he feels, comes back even stronger, and he has to bite his lip for a second to stop himself. don't be silly. just take this, don't ruin it.
jiaoqiu takes a deep breath. and then he brings his hand down to gently brush therion's hair out of his face. just enough, just so he can see both of therion's eyes, no armor. ]
Thank you. For saving me.
[ from hoolay, but. for saving him from a life where the only thing he had to look forward to was sitting in front of two graves for eight solid hours once a year. it's clear he means more than just today. ]
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no armor. and then jiaoqiu says that, and of course he'd have to be an idiot not to understand what he means. it feels overwhelming - there's a rush of warmth in his chest that aches something fierce, the formation of glass from sandy ground, heat and healing and reforming all at once. some part of him wants to protest, that defensive. does he look like a hero? it was his fault that he ended up there. normally, he'd play it off as nothing, shake his head and scoff, let him know it was just out of convenience's sake, for payback, but there's no convenience or payback or tradeoff here, and there hasn't been for a long, long time. he could tell himself that he's using jiaoqiu, because he's a bad person, and used to tell himself so often - it was just for sex, just for knowing you have a healer in your pocket, just for a free meal - but it's a lie. it's a poorly constructed lie. no thief worth their own skin would have run into that wolf's den, piss off a powerfully connected crime lord, to save someone else. he didn't even hesitate, not for a fucking second.
he searches jiaoqiu's face - for a lie, maybe, for anything that could tell him that this wasn't real, and for once, he lets himself believe that this might be something he can trust. that it's somewhere he can rest his head.
therion swallows. hard. ]
Yeah. [ the awkward, husky-voiced, raw one word response more or less says everything. that he's accepting to thanks. that he understands what he's trying to say. his chest, his throat - they feel tight, burning like he might cry, which is insane, because he hasn't done that since he was a literal baby and he has no plans of doing it now, but he doesn't look away. yeah. you're welcome. he's not sure if he can say that, but the emotion's there as he stares up at him, for just a second like a lost shelter cat who finally found a home. ]
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that's the biggest thing that tells him therion is trying. he knows that the meaning behind his words hit, and he can see that he's fighting it, and fighting that. it's the same thing jiaoqiu does. sometimes you have to wrestle like eight layers of self loathing and trauma to get to a point where you can just hear something, and accept it. therion looks at him, and jiaoqiu doesn't break his gaze, just waits patiently, lets him sort through it. watches the expression on his face turn from something like crunched, shattered glass to a window. there's still cracks. it's still being repaired, but the damage isn't so devastating.
therion put himself so solidly into danger for him, and he takes the thank you, and jiaoqiu, stupidly, is so very proud of him. the look that he gives him makes all of this worth it. a realization that he can rely on someone, that he has a home. it's this that makes jiaoqiu believe that therion is going to try, and it settles the uncertainty in him. no matter what comes next, it'll be okay.
there's no lie in his own expression, it's - probably the most honest he's ever been. and jiaoqiu leans a little. presses a kiss to therion's forehead, and then lifts his chin a bit to kiss him on the mouth, in that same sort of way - understanding. hearing it. keeping it close. a tacit response. he heard what therion was trying to tell him, and he believes it, he's not backing away this time.
and when he pulls away, he doesn't go far. he strokes therion's back, fingers up and down his spine. he doesn't say anything, he just lets therion sit with it for a bit.
lets himself sit with it a bit, too. his chest hurts, and his eyes are burning. ]
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he takes a breath, a little shakier than he'd like for it to be, and his eyes flutter shut at the gesture. by the time it comes to his mouth in a kiss, he's somewhere between exhausted and wide awake, firefly sparks flickering through his synapses, moving so slowly and too fast all at once. it's such a strange, unmooring feeling, adrift at sea with someone's hands on your waist, but it's not bad. for once, he's trying to let himself have something. for once, something good shines in.
i had nothing to lose. things change. yeah. yeah, he gets that, now, doesn't he?
that's about it for therion, who cannot stand to stay face to face, open to open any longer than that or he might actually implode on the spot. he's learning how to display a tiny bit of emotional intimacy. he is not anywhere near the stage of looking lovingly into someone's eyes. red cheeked, he huffs again, dropping his head down and burrowing a little further into the blankets, nearly disappearing underneath them so there's just a tuft of his white hair sticking out. ]
Happy fucking vacation. [ he mutters, eventually - grousing, grumbling, sarcastic, but it's at least at both of their expense. yay. what an ending. ]
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therion's comment makes him laugh, despite himself, and it dissolves into a little cough that he muffles. he's fine, he just feels like he's been run through with a sword. in multiple ways. ]
I think we need a vacation from the vacation. [ he says, exhausted. sorry if he curls a little closer, he's fuckin cold. blood loss will do that to you. ] We can recover here.
[ as he heard, lingsha would bring down unholy levels of hell if anybody tried to get them, so. at least there's that. ]
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curling closer is fine. he does not care - he is also cold, and exhausted, though if he closes his eyes he's just going to see darius' stupid fucking face staring down at him again and he's not about that, so a more normal level of conversation is settling for therion in a hundred different ways. there's a soft grunt that could maybe be a laugh. ]
Yeah. I heard. [ that lady was shouting the borisin's ear off. which... unfortunately, the logical progression of that makes his face pull into a frown, and the rest of the cogs move into place, ticking through the plan of the future. the future. god. ] You have weird friends.
[ ... ]
... Gonna need to get out of the city, this time. [ he says, quietly. muffled. ]
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he tucks the blankets in around them, resting his head against therion's. he'll just deal with the nasty blood hair. whatever. they can shower later. right now he thinks if he got up he'd just collapse. and that's not even counting his busted leg. ]
My friends are as weird as I am. [ this is not a good defense, dude. as for the rest: ]
That's alright. Any suggestions?
[ like. easy. he'll just pick up and go. whatever. who cares. ]
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[ i mean listen he'll say it. seeing as how therion is here, with him, he is not excluded from that number of people but like at least he knows he's a freak.
the easy response - the simplicity of "sure, okay, where are we going" shouldn't surprise him. he pauses. looks up, now, from his blanket armor and likely dislodging jiaoqiu, but he needs to look at him. one eyebrow raised, expression a little flat. ]
You understand what I'm saying here, right? I don't know for how long.
[ after all, he did used to disappear for weeks at a time. he still does, sometimes, though time has taught him to be kinder about it, to at least open up an avenue of communication, and to stay for more than a few hours when he returns. ]
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I'm afraid I'm not as stupid as you sometimes think I am. [ he says, amused. ] I understand the implications, so I'll ask again - any suggestions?
[ he's really not afraid to just quit his job and go. it's not like he has any attachment to this town other than like... sushang and lingsha, but they'll be okay. sushang will be fine with texts, and lingsha spends half her time with jiaoqiu wanting to pin him to a washing line to dry. ]
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...Might not stay somewhere for long, either.
[ just like. trying to put it out there. again. this is one hell of a commitment to be making. ]
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Do you want me to stay here, after all of what I just said to you?
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LISTEN
his ears turn red.
and there's a long, long pause. ]
............I've got a couple safehouses in a couple different cities. [ therion mutters. his face is burning. ] And if I don't have one, I can get one.
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he's a little amused by this, but he doesn't tease...... for now. ]
I can supplement our cash flow by treating people that we find. [ he's not good at thieving so he's going to leave that to therion, but. ] I may have connections in places, as well. Foxians often help each other, even if they've never met before.
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Former's better. [ than the connections. ] Don't really need those.
[ he's too slow to trust for that. just because he trusts jiaoqiu does not mean he trusts his friends. he trusted lingsha out of sheer necessity and also because he passed out. ]
... world's your oyster, I guess. The farther away from this place, the better.
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he looks slightly huffy about the connections thing but. whatever. he supposes he can't trust anybody he's never met before, but... depending on where they go, he does know people who would never sell him out.
he shrugs. ]
I don't care where we go. I've seen the world enough. We can go far. But we aren't going anywhere until I can walk.
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