[ he is holding his phone very tightly in his hands. when therion comes over to him, he looks a bit apprehensive, but not in a way that he's like, scared of therion or anything, just.
he can't just let this go. he can't pretend like it didn't happen, because if therion is pretending like it didn't, maybe that means that he can't stand it, and it's freaking him out. there's always a part of him that whispers about how not worth it he is - he doesn't want that part to be proven correct. so. he just ignores the question, and asks his own. ]
... Did you read my messages that I sent you? [ he's piecing things together still, remembering bits and pieces of last night. ]
is so terrible, because he can't quite remember all of the conversation they had, so therion says yes, he read them, and nothing else, and jiaoqiu's ears pin down and back, his expression twitching like he's trying to hide some sort of hurt. like therion is letting him down easy, not trying to be cool about it.
he opens his mouth. and then closes it. and then: ]
[ we're right back at the miscommunication tango, though watching his ears pin back does help a little - he's too observant to miss the gesture even if he's not looking, and therion glances over, and then folds his arms across his chest, fingers curling in the sleeves of his hoodie at his biceps.
there's another pause. he shifts a little. this would be the chance to just - drop it, and the him of a year ago would have without a second thought, but, in a year's time, he's accidentally stepped on some land mines of his own, too. though, with jiaoqiu's, it's less like an explosion and more like quicksand. ]
[ quicksand is a good term for it. it's so easy to miss stepping in the wrong place, but it means he just sinks, slowly, over time, with no way out. he never bothers to even pull himself up, either. it just gets worse and worse until he's deadeyed and silent, but - this time.
this time, therion is a little better at reading him. jiaoqiu stares up at him, ears still back, and then: ]
What do you mean what? Are you sure that you read my message? [ a beat. ] That's... it's important to me.
[ and here is where he falters, because if it isn't to therion then he really is going to lay down in traffic. he can usually tell when therion cares, but he's hungover and terrified. ]
[ what does he mean, what does he mean. that's not really - he knows, why jiaoqiu's asking, and a little flush starts to build over his nose and his cheeks, staring at the wall ahead and absolutely not at jiaoqiu, because he can't. he feels that falter, and for a second, he's standing on the edge of a cliff face again, though this time, the cliff's climbing his own pride.
therion's silent, for a second, ducking into his scarf a little, and when he speaks his voice is rougher, slightly muffled and immediately more raw. instead of answering immediately, he meets it with another question, one as faltering as jiaoqiu's. ]
[ he's gotten pretty okay at reading therion over a year - the ducking into his scarf is a safety thing. he's embarrassed, and they're both navigating carefully, he thinks. but it doesn't mean therion is closed off, just flighty. fidgety. he can hold out a hand. he just needs therion to come to it. ]
Clearly not enough. [ he says, embarrassed, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. ] I... think that I remember you in my lap.
in a sense, it's - almost relieving? therion doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath, but he is. of course he doesn't remember. that's... good for him, he thinks, because he was so, so deeply vulnerable, because it was only the fact that he thought jiaoqiu wouldn't that he could even convince himself to admit to it, to open up the cracked oyster shell of his heart and let jiaoqiu put his hands on the pearl.
it occurs to him about a second after he feels this relief that it means he's going to have to find a way to - have this conversation again, which. oh god. he does duck a little further into his scarf, and the red spreads out to his cheeks - therion snorts, dryly, embarrassed, and keeps his gaze as fixed on the wall across from him as humanly possible. ]
Can't say I'm surprised. [ a beat. ] Yeah. [ yeah, that happened, he was half in his lap. he can admit to that, at least.
he knows he needs to say something, now, and that's the hard part. therion's silent for a moment longer, jaw working where it's hidden. he's staring at that held out hand and deciding how to approach it, bit by bit. ]
... it's. [ ... ] We talked about it. [ sort of. ]
[ it's coming to him in little bits - sense memory, of holding therion, of asking him... something. something about belief. he doesn't remember how they got there, or the lead up so much, but. that's something. he isn't sure he remembers the answer. he isn't sure he didn't make the answer up, because that was so dangerously close to him passing out.
jiaoqiu doesn't need therion to look at him during this conversation, it's okay. it's not a slight against him, and he knows it. therion doesn't look at him because it's hard to coax this sort of vulnerability out of him. it makes sense - he knows the damage that was done, he knows that it's so, so difficult for therion to be emotionally open, jiaoqiu understands that. he can barely manage to look up, himself. but - he thinks, for both of their sakes, that therion needs to try. jiaoqiu can fill in so many blanks, but eventually he's going to start feeling like he's putting the puzzle together by himself, and his self esteem isn't good enough for that. he'll give up, afraid to put too much of a burden in therion's hands.
god, it's so stupid. if he could just remember what they talked about. he didn't want to have that conversation blackout drunk.
he just stares down at his phone, and sits in that silence. the longer it goes, the less good he feels, the less brave, and his grip tightens on the plastic in his hands, claws clicking against the glass.
but therion answers. and it makes him feel a little less small.
a beat. ]
I asked if you believed me. [ he says quietly, to his phone. ] I remember that.
it's the same feeling from last night - his heart is in his throat, suddenly, pulse picking up under his skin, a jitter moving through his entire system like fight or flight. the urge to push back and move on is his first intention, his first reach, but he's started to unlearn that, bit by tiny bit. his trust has started to solidify, spiderwebbed with cracks but not quite breaking, despite everything in him that has screamed at him to smash the ice more than once, and he's been rewarded for it.
he's learned not to bite the hand that feeds him so viciously. he's learned to allow it, feral little beast, and to lean into it, and he's learned that that hand won't always come to him. he has to make his way there. patience is rewarded with response, it just always takes time.
the room is still and silent, and despite that under the skin feeling of anxious fear, therion's still, too. he looks up, now, over his head, at nothing. ]
... Don't remember what I said, huh.
[ it's not angry, or upset - just sort of stating what he's pretty sure he knows already. it's not like therion actually said it, but jiaoqiu doesn't know that. ]
[ patience is rewarded - he's good at patience. he's good at waiting, it's all he's done for years, waiting for something to happen. therion has gotten better at finding his way closer, if jiaoqiu just sits back and stays still.
don't remember, huh, therion says, and jiaoqiu sucks in a breath. and exhales. slow. he's good at waiting, and he's good at seeing the worst possible scenario and accepting that it's the truth, whether it is or not.
he doesn't look up, but: ]
No. I don't remember. [ ... ] If you don't feel the same, please just say so. We can move on. I've embarrassed myself enough.
[ he brings a hand up to massage at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with his thumb and pointer finger like he's trying to get rid of a headache. he knows therion cares. he knows he does, he sees it, he does, he'd have to be stupid to not understand that therion cares about him. but care isn't necessarily love, and it isn't necessarily romantic love. it's all too easy to convince himself that the romantic feelings he's had these past few weeks aren't reciprocated - he's not special.
it's not therion's fault, it's just the quicksand, racing to swallow him up. ]
[ the last syllable of enough barely has time to escape out of jiaoqiu's mouth before therion says it. immediate, dropping an iron wall on that sentence before it goes even farther - he whips his head to look at him, expression somewhere between incredulous and surprised, even if it really shouldn't be. he's never verbally said anything like it, but -
for someone like therion, what he's done has to speak volumes. jiaoqiu doesn't know that he dropped everything last night to be here when he sent him that message, sure, but he's turned his entire life into something different around jiaoqiu's presence in his life. he's learned to soften around the edges. before he left, their first night in sunshade still lives in his head in shades and flashes when he least expects it, the feeling of jiaoqiu's hand slipped into his burnt like a brand into the desperate part of him that he'd never admit craves it, that he swears if his mind wanders too far, he can still feel.
but it's not enough, is it? he pushes off from where he's standing, the motion abrupt, and squats down next to him on the ground, and sheer instinct - he grabs the hand on his face and pulls it away, grabs his stupid face with his other hand and turns it towards him, eye to eye, face to face - and faltering, because when he does, he's faced less with impulse and instead with his own thoughts, with the need to follow through - a precipice.
either way, they're eye to eye, and therion's nearly vibrating as he lets his temper take over for him. angry, he's so often angry, but it's never violent, not towards jiaoqiu, never once. even now, the hand that grabs onto his, the one on his face - neither squeezes too hard or pushes too much, no matter how intense of a moment passes, how intense therion himself is. ]
Stop, whatever the hell you're thinking, just - stop. Are you nuts?
[ he startles slightly, when therion grabs his face - but it isn't a violent movement, and it's not like that first time, months ago. it's a little intense, but it's never something that's going to hurt him, and the trust inherent in letting therion just kind of manhandle him around without complaint is clear.
he blinks, gold eyes wide open, not squinting for once. stares at therion. he lets therion snap at him, and his heart cracks and clenches in his chest, and he wants - he doesn't know what he wants. he doesn't know what to expect. this is such new territory, he's never said this to someone before. not even feixiao or moze. it was always unspoken, something he didn't dare offer, and something that would not have gone over well with either of them, he thinks.
so, this is new. and unintentional, because it took getting blasted for him to be able to say it at all.
a beat. ]
Well. Yes. A little, I think we've established that much. [ it is Not The Time to make jokes, but he does anyway, slightly wry. there's something wrong with you, therion had said the first time they met. it's still true, even if it's gotten better.
still. he doesn't look away or try to squirm. he just looks at therion, and waits. ]
[ it needs to be established before anything, that the first thing therion does is just squish his stupid face in his hand when he makes this joke, looking like kill bill sirens are going off levels of angry, though again, despite the fact that he looks like he might bite jiaoqiu's head off, he never actually would, as he just growls - ]
[ maybe this is the right way to go about this, because now he's annoyed? he's annoyed, and sometimes therion's temper gets the best of him in the way his hubris so often does, which means it suddenly becomes a whole lot easier to just say things when he stops thinking about them.
instead, he does not let go of his face and starts to go on a tirade, flustered and annoyed and embarrassed and having a lot of feelings and only one way to express them. therion wants to shake him. ]
Don't you dare fall into that fucking pity hole, I wasn't even here, I wasn't even planning on coming for at least another week, and then you sent that, do you get that -- [ a beat ] - and if you take that as something you should feel guilty for, I swear to god, I will fucking kill you.
[ nice. extremely eloquent, as usual, therion!!! he continues right on without giving him any time to recover from that though his hold does soften some so he's just holding his face like an idiot sandwich now as opposed to actively squishing it. ]
[ this is so funny, jiaoqiu is kind of just like, bemused? he doesn't quite know what to do with having therion yell at him, like. he's not upset at all, and he's not intimidated or frightened. unfortunately, he thinks that therion getting annoyed is cute, because therion gets so fucking mad at him for not caring about himself, and that in and of itself is how therion shows he cares about him. he knows that much. but i love you left on read is such a barrier, and he can't help it.
he does, in fact, sort of feel guilty that therion came back for him, but he doesn't say it because he's pretty sure therion will yank his ears off if he lets that slip. a beat. ]
I don't know. I'm not a mind reader.
[ he says, mildly. why the hell did he show up? to stop him from slipping into the void, he assumes. because he cares, because he doesn't want jiaoqiu to drift, but... ]
alright! fine!!! the words are coming out before he can stop them!! and in fact, this time he does give him a shake by the face, because it is so frustrating, because he thinks it's so obvious, and once again, his temper gets the better of him as he just -- ]
Because I feel the same way, you fucking idiot!
[ GOD!!! another little shake, as he continues to more or less rant his way through this. ] I came all the way out here to make sure you weren't just - saying it because you were drunk, and apparently you weren't, so - - good! Great! Fan-fucking-tastic.
[ great. cool.
it occurs to him what he's just done about a second later - therion's hands twitch where he's holding them on his face, and his visible eye goes slightly round and stunned as the steam starts to clear off, and he very abruptly snaps his mouth shut. oh. shit. ]
it absolutely startles the hell out of him. it's a lot to take in at once, being yelled at, being affectionately yelled at, because that's what this is. he can't exactly say that he's surprised that therion is confessing to him by angrily shaking him by the face. that seems right. if he was ever going to picture a scenario where this happened, it probably would involve a lot more yelling than just this, even.
that's a whole lot of thinking to try and stall the fact that he just said he feels the same. jiaoqiu flushes red when he realizes it, and for a very long five seconds, he stares at therion. his bright green eye and his mortified look, and jiaoqiu thinks, no, don't run - it's okay, don't run. he drops his phone, and brings his hands up to cover therion's, pressing his fingers between therion's, loosely lacing them over where he holds jiaoqiu's face. stay.
and then, a little hoarsely, small: ]
... Oh. Okay.
[ which is - stupid, he thinks, what the fuck even is that response. he pauses for just a second before cutting therion off from whatever he might be planning to say with a kiss. easy, gentle, chaste. that's... a little better. ]
[ jiaoqiu's exactly right in that therion is going to run. he realizes three milliseconds afterwards what came out of his mouth, and his first emotion is not elation or joy, it's absolute, downright, terror, immediately smothered in shame. embarrassment, sure, considering his entire face is turning scarlet red, but worse, shame. stupid. why would you say that? why the hell would you just put that out there? sentimental, stupid little tea leaf.
sometimes, in these moments, the voice in therion's head takes on a different accent - a reminder he tried to scrub free from his subconscious to no avail. the five seconds of silence are the most damning, awful feeling in the world, and he's about to fucking bolt when jiaoqiu drops his phone. the noise startles him - if he was a cat, he'd be poofed and prickly - but before he can even react, he's being held in place. therion is as tense as a strung wire, completely unmoving, caught by the hands that are holding him in place.
oh, okay. that's all he has to say? oh okay? oh my god. it's a mix of just - that same horror and shame mixed with something hysterical, a fucking really of emotions, and he's not even sure what he's going to say, except "haha just kidding" which is stupid beyond all reason and a lie, but it all gets smothered when he kisses him.
he deflates, and all the words get cut off with a soft - ] Mmft.
[ he holds therion's hands tightly against his face, and when he pulls away to speak, he doesn't go far. ]
Stay. Stay, please.
[ he says, a little pleading. don't try to get away, he wants to just - settle this, he wants to make them both understand. he's retired, but he was a strategist, once. not having all the answers drives him nuts, and he's got all the pieces here, he just has to place them. he has to take therion's hand and make him place his pieces, too. they can't skitter away from this, it's all out and he wants answers, he wants - well. he wants therion.
and he wants them to not be scared. god, he wants. it's still a marvel.
he presses his forehead against therion's, eyes closed, stroking therion's hands with his thumbs. ]
I love you.
[ sober. hungover, but sober, he says it, and it's the scariest thing he's done in his entire life. he shakes with it, breath unsteady. there's so much that could go wrong - not just therion getting spooked but the whole world could just revolt. it's been so long since he's been happy and it feels like if he lets himself, if he's selfish like this, it'll endeavor to steal it from him.
but he can't just let this moment pass. so. there it is, plain and exhausted and vulnerable. ]
jiaoqiu tells him to stay, and - he does. he doesn't bolt, or make a shitty comment. he knows "stay, please" means more than just "stay here, in this moment". he knows it means don't leave all of this, from this conversation to this life. it'd be so easy to just cut and run away, to take boltcutters to one of the only good things he's ever known. therion doesn't make good choices for himself. he runs, keeps the entire world at an arm's length, through biting, snapping teeth and frosty receptions, just like he'd done the very first night they met. and he's tried to run before, too, and he's stopped.
("you look happier, mr. therion." cordelia had said. like it was so obvious on his face, because - because he is happier, and admitting that is just as hard as admitting anything else. is it okay, for him to be happier? is it alright? will the world collapse in on itself - will it all go horribly wrong?)
he's still, as jiaoqiu leans into his space - as he strokes at his hands, he can hear therion take in a soft, shaky breath, as he shuts his eyes tight in the intimacy of it as if he was facing down a great ledge.
and the thing is, when jiaoqiu says it again, he doesn't just feel afraid - if he just felt afraid, that would be the end of it. no, it's this desperate warmth that fills the cavity of his chest until it might explode, this incredibly bright, cloying feeling of love, something so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to breathe with how bad he needs to hear it, how bad he wants it, too. how he'd jumped out of a fucking train to get here, to make sure jiaoqiu meant it. and now, in the light of day, he brings it back up.
his eyes open again. he looks at jiaoqiu - really, really looks at him, his brow knit together, visible eye round, a tremor in his jaw, like a wounded creature in a trap, where the door was held o pen and all he has to do is take the steps and leave. and he can't - he can't, he can't say it again, not without the armor of his temper or the thought that jiaoqiu might not be present, not when he's thinking about betrayal and trust and hurt and all the things that dog his heels.
he sucks in a breath, again. sharper, this time, loud enough to be heard. holds it. a long beat passes.
and he says, slowly, so quiet it's just for jiaoqiu's ears and no one else's, that someone else without his capabilities wouldn't know: ] ...I believe it.
[ he believes it. he does. he couldn't say that last night - couldn't muster the strength. so maybe this is growth, maybe this is his version of steady, that slowly, he lets himself learn how to be loved. it's clumsy. awkward. angry and sharp edged, sometimes, and it fails, sometimes, too, but his progress in the year and change they've known each other has been a desperate, scrabbling march forward, crawling on his belly towards trust once more.
he swallows, hard, after he says it, and closes his eyes again - therion's clever fingers flex against jiaoqiu's cheeks where they're being held, and the hold softens altogether, something cradling, something a little desperate instead of mad, frustrated or annoyed. don't go echoes in stereo. ]
[ therion had said - he'd been on the way somewhere else, he thinks, in the rush of all of this. he'd changed tracks to come get an answer, and he doesn't know what that entails. it must've been sudden. he doesn't know that therion jumped off a train to get here, but he knows that therion was going to be gone for longer and then he came back, because he needed to hear it, and jiaoqiu can give him that. he can give him every piece he's got until he's empty.
he stays. and jiaoqiu wishes that he could say it, that he could hear the words, but he knows that therion doesn't have the ability to do that, and he might just have to be okay with that. it's growth. this is so much better than he used to be, and it's leaps and bounds better than jiaoqiu used to be. and he is smart enough, he is clever enough, to know that love can't fix everything all at once. it's always time that does. he can see in the way that therion looks at him, in the way that he tentatively holds out his heart, that therion wants to try, and jiaoqiu is not very good at this and he doesn't know how to take care without ripping himself apart, but he wants to try, too.
i believe you, therion says, and jiaoqiu believes him - both that he knows jiaoqiu means it, and that he feels the same way.
he's quiet for a little bit, resting his face against therion's hands, turning to nuzzle at them. he's shaky and strung out on adrenaline, his head hurts and he's cold and a little uncertain, but therion is here with him and they're both desperately trying to meet each other, as awkward as they are. that feels good. it's not perfect, but it doesn't have to be. ]
Therion.
[ he says, finally, voice very soft, barely above a whisper. ]
I don't want to... drag you down with me. [ a hard swallow. ] I am an anchor, and if I'm not careful I will sink you to the bottom of the ocean.
[ it's just something he worries about. therion deserves to be free, to go wherever he wants, and jiaoqiu would let him go if he couldn't handle that. therion doesn't need to be trapped in the quicksand with him if he doesn't want to. but - the way this comes off, it's not so much of a warning as much it is a question: do you love me even though I'm broken? ]
[ slowly, as the moment passes, some of the initial stress levels start to come down. he thinks it might be over - the emotional tangle in his chest loosens, with trepidation. jiaoqiu had already figured out that he believed him. it was just a matter of saying it. it feels stupid, now, to make a big deal of it, like a bad hangover in its own right. maybe he can talk himself out of how much that meant to him, but it's unlikely.
in the quieter moments, sometimes, he lets himself reflect on it. you look happier. life does feel a little... it feels better. it's amazing - how didn't realize how lonely he was, and he might never realize it, or at least might not ever say it out loud, or even allow himself to look the concept in the face, but it's true. and if jiaoqiu says that he brings color to his life, then maybe for therion, it's a warmth, a heat that he was always craving, a malnourished, cold thief that's never been satisfied.
but right now, he doesn't - and thankfully, it's jiaoqiu, already vulnerable, who takes another unsteady step forward among this bramble-lined pathway. therion's eyes flutter back open when he says his name, and he regards him as he describes, in that quiet voice, himself as an anchor. and it's not to say that therion hasn't thought it, before, but not in the way jiaoqiu might think. only back when this all first started. when they first arrived to sunshade. but every second that he's thought it, he's been rebuffed. when he returned today, it wasn't because he felt forced to take care of jiaoqiu. it was because he wanted to hear what he had to say.
after a long, long moment, he sighs.
his hands are still on jiaoqiu's face, so, this time, when he squishes it again, it's very gentle. almost like a necessary gesture, a routine, and he looks at him, a frown on his face, brows furrowed, but it's more rueful than it is ready to just agree. ]
Yeah? [ sink him to the bottom of the ocean. there's this edge to therion's voice - a hint of his usual confidence, assured. unafraid. ] I'd like to see you try.
[ deadweight, jiaoqiu said. i just have to throw you off this here cliff, and all my problems are solved. despite every awful thing therion says and often thinks about himself, argues up and down that he is someone who uses other people, just like darius used him, it's not anywhere close to the truth. ]
Takes a lot to pull me down off of anything. [ in fact, it is tacitly something therion refuses. ] You're still here for a reason. So am I.
[ so once again, in not so many words, i'm not going anywhere. or an answer to jiaoqiu's question: a yes. ]
[ the silence has jiaoqiu's ears pressed back, twitching. but - therion answers him. and it's a good answer, it's a relief, and jiaoqiu is going to have to tell himself this every day, he's going to have to try and remember it when things get bad. but. it hasn't been so hard. still here for a reason - yeah. yeah, he is. he likes life here. he likes working for primrose and he likes the people who come through, and he likes it when therion comes home.
he'd almost said it earlier, even. welcome home.
it'll take time for therion to get more comfortable, to get to a point where he can trust enough to give in entirely, and it'll take time for jiaoqiu to let go of the hangups about being useless, purposeless. but they're moving. it's not stagnant. jiaoqiu can remember every hour of every day of the last few weeks and that means something. it isn't all fixed just because of this, but it's better. they're happier. lighter. it's not hard to tell that jiaoqiu's life has gotten so much more full, with therion around. he's not a corpse dragging himself to work and bed, over and over. he's not so alone anymore.
there's something like relief on his face, when therion tells him in so many words that he's not going anywhere. maybe a tinge desperate. like it means so very much to him to know that therion doesn't think of him as a burden.
carefully, jiaoqiu lets go of therion's hands, and reaches. curls his fingers into the front of therion's shirt, and tugs him a little. come here. if therion goes, jiaoqiu wraps him up in a hug, warm and solid. rests his hand on therion's neck, like always, protective, and presses a kiss to the side of therion's head. just here, in a heap on the floor. ]
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no subject
he can't just let this go. he can't pretend like it didn't happen, because if therion is pretending like it didn't, maybe that means that he can't stand it, and it's freaking him out. there's always a part of him that whispers about how not worth it he is - he doesn't want that part to be proven correct. so. he just ignores the question, and asks his own. ]
... Did you read my messages that I sent you? [ he's piecing things together still, remembering bits and pieces of last night. ]
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a pause. he looks at him for a second, and then looks away with a huff, feeling a flush start to crawl up the back of his neck. ]
Yeah.
[ yeah. so casual. so cool. is that all you're gonna say therion?? helpful ]
no subject
is so terrible, because he can't quite remember all of the conversation they had, so therion says yes, he read them, and nothing else, and jiaoqiu's ears pin down and back, his expression twitching like he's trying to hide some sort of hurt. like therion is letting him down easy, not trying to be cool about it.
he opens his mouth. and then closes it. and then: ]
... Ah. Then, I... [ he starts. pauses. ] Yes, alright.
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there's another pause. he shifts a little. this would be the chance to just - drop it, and the him of a year ago would have without a second thought, but, in a year's time, he's accidentally stepped on some land mines of his own, too. though, with jiaoqiu's, it's less like an explosion and more like quicksand. ]
... what?
no subject
this time, therion is a little better at reading him. jiaoqiu stares up at him, ears still back, and then: ]
What do you mean what? Are you sure that you read my message? [ a beat. ] That's... it's important to me.
[ and here is where he falters, because if it isn't to therion then he really is going to lay down in traffic. he can usually tell when therion cares, but he's hungover and terrified. ]
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therion's silent, for a second, ducking into his scarf a little, and when he speaks his voice is rougher, slightly muffled and immediately more raw. instead of answering immediately, he meets it with another question, one as faltering as jiaoqiu's. ]
... Do you remember anything from last night?
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Clearly not enough. [ he says, embarrassed, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. ] I... think that I remember you in my lap.
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in a sense, it's - almost relieving? therion doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath, but he is. of course he doesn't remember. that's... good for him, he thinks, because he was so, so deeply vulnerable, because it was only the fact that he thought jiaoqiu wouldn't that he could even convince himself to admit to it, to open up the cracked oyster shell of his heart and let jiaoqiu put his hands on the pearl.
it occurs to him about a second after he feels this relief that it means he's going to have to find a way to - have this conversation again, which. oh god. he does duck a little further into his scarf, and the red spreads out to his cheeks - therion snorts, dryly, embarrassed, and keeps his gaze as fixed on the wall across from him as humanly possible. ]
Can't say I'm surprised. [ a beat. ] Yeah. [ yeah, that happened, he was half in his lap. he can admit to that, at least.
he knows he needs to say something, now, and that's the hard part. therion's silent for a moment longer, jaw working where it's hidden. he's staring at that held out hand and deciding how to approach it, bit by bit. ]
... it's. [ ... ] We talked about it. [ sort of. ]
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jiaoqiu doesn't need therion to look at him during this conversation, it's okay. it's not a slight against him, and he knows it. therion doesn't look at him because it's hard to coax this sort of vulnerability out of him. it makes sense - he knows the damage that was done, he knows that it's so, so difficult for therion to be emotionally open, jiaoqiu understands that. he can barely manage to look up, himself. but - he thinks, for both of their sakes, that therion needs to try. jiaoqiu can fill in so many blanks, but eventually he's going to start feeling like he's putting the puzzle together by himself, and his self esteem isn't good enough for that. he'll give up, afraid to put too much of a burden in therion's hands.
god, it's so stupid. if he could just remember what they talked about. he didn't want to have that conversation blackout drunk.
he just stares down at his phone, and sits in that silence. the longer it goes, the less good he feels, the less brave, and his grip tightens on the plastic in his hands, claws clicking against the glass.
but therion answers. and it makes him feel a little less small.
a beat. ]
I asked if you believed me. [ he says quietly, to his phone. ] I remember that.
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it's the same feeling from last night - his heart is in his throat, suddenly, pulse picking up under his skin, a jitter moving through his entire system like fight or flight. the urge to push back and move on is his first intention, his first reach, but he's started to unlearn that, bit by tiny bit. his trust has started to solidify, spiderwebbed with cracks but not quite breaking, despite everything in him that has screamed at him to smash the ice more than once, and he's been rewarded for it.
he's learned not to bite the hand that feeds him so viciously. he's learned to allow it, feral little beast, and to lean into it, and he's learned that that hand won't always come to him. he has to make his way there. patience is rewarded with response, it just always takes time.
the room is still and silent, and despite that under the skin feeling of anxious fear, therion's still, too. he looks up, now, over his head, at nothing. ]
... Don't remember what I said, huh.
[ it's not angry, or upset - just sort of stating what he's pretty sure he knows already. it's not like therion actually said it, but jiaoqiu doesn't know that. ]
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don't remember, huh, therion says, and jiaoqiu sucks in a breath. and exhales. slow. he's good at waiting, and he's good at seeing the worst possible scenario and accepting that it's the truth, whether it is or not.
he doesn't look up, but: ]
No. I don't remember. [ ... ] If you don't feel the same, please just say so. We can move on. I've embarrassed myself enough.
[ he brings a hand up to massage at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with his thumb and pointer finger like he's trying to get rid of a headache. he knows therion cares. he knows he does, he sees it, he does, he'd have to be stupid to not understand that therion cares about him. but care isn't necessarily love, and it isn't necessarily romantic love. it's all too easy to convince himself that the romantic feelings he's had these past few weeks aren't reciprocated - he's not special.
it's not therion's fault, it's just the quicksand, racing to swallow him up. ]
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[ the last syllable of enough barely has time to escape out of jiaoqiu's mouth before therion says it. immediate, dropping an iron wall on that sentence before it goes even farther - he whips his head to look at him, expression somewhere between incredulous and surprised, even if it really shouldn't be. he's never verbally said anything like it, but -
for someone like therion, what he's done has to speak volumes. jiaoqiu doesn't know that he dropped everything last night to be here when he sent him that message, sure, but he's turned his entire life into something different around jiaoqiu's presence in his life. he's learned to soften around the edges. before he left, their first night in sunshade still lives in his head in shades and flashes when he least expects it, the feeling of jiaoqiu's hand slipped into his burnt like a brand into the desperate part of him that he'd never admit craves it, that he swears if his mind wanders too far, he can still feel.
but it's not enough, is it? he pushes off from where he's standing, the motion abrupt, and squats down next to him on the ground, and sheer instinct - he grabs the hand on his face and pulls it away, grabs his stupid face with his other hand and turns it towards him, eye to eye, face to face - and faltering, because when he does, he's faced less with impulse and instead with his own thoughts, with the need to follow through - a precipice.
either way, they're eye to eye, and therion's nearly vibrating as he lets his temper take over for him. angry, he's so often angry, but it's never violent, not towards jiaoqiu, never once. even now, the hand that grabs onto his, the one on his face - neither squeezes too hard or pushes too much, no matter how intense of a moment passes, how intense therion himself is. ]
Stop, whatever the hell you're thinking, just - stop. Are you nuts?
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he blinks, gold eyes wide open, not squinting for once. stares at therion. he lets therion snap at him, and his heart cracks and clenches in his chest, and he wants - he doesn't know what he wants. he doesn't know what to expect. this is such new territory, he's never said this to someone before. not even feixiao or moze. it was always unspoken, something he didn't dare offer, and something that would not have gone over well with either of them, he thinks.
so, this is new. and unintentional, because it took getting blasted for him to be able to say it at all.
a beat. ]
Well. Yes. A little, I think we've established that much. [ it is Not The Time to make jokes, but he does anyway, slightly wry. there's something wrong with you, therion had said the first time they met. it's still true, even if it's gotten better.
still. he doesn't look away or try to squirm. he just looks at therion, and waits. ]
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Jiaoqiu. [ BE FUCKING FOR REAL!!!!! ]
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his ear flicks, and he makes little like protesty, squished noises as therion gets at his face. ]
Stop, stop -- [ waaaaaah ] I don't know what you want from me!
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instead, he does not let go of his face and starts to go on a tirade, flustered and annoyed and embarrassed and having a lot of feelings and only one way to express them. therion wants to shake him. ]
Don't you dare fall into that fucking pity hole, I wasn't even here, I wasn't even planning on coming for at least another week, and then you sent that, do you get that -- [ a beat ] - and if you take that as something you should feel guilty for, I swear to god, I will fucking kill you.
[ nice. extremely eloquent, as usual, therion!!! he continues right on without giving him any time to recover from that though his hold does soften some so he's just holding his face like an idiot sandwich now as opposed to actively squishing it. ]
Why the hell do you think I showed up?
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he does, in fact, sort of feel guilty that therion came back for him, but he doesn't say it because he's pretty sure therion will yank his ears off if he lets that slip. a beat. ]
I don't know. I'm not a mind reader.
[ he says, mildly. why the hell did he show up? to stop him from slipping into the void, he assumes. because he cares, because he doesn't want jiaoqiu to drift, but... ]
I can only ever guess.
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alright! fine!!! the words are coming out before he can stop them!! and in fact, this time he does give him a shake by the face, because it is so frustrating, because he thinks it's so obvious, and once again, his temper gets the better of him as he just -- ]
Because I feel the same way, you fucking idiot!
[ GOD!!! another little shake, as he continues to more or less rant his way through this. ] I came all the way out here to make sure you weren't just - saying it because you were drunk, and apparently you weren't, so - - good! Great! Fan-fucking-tastic.
[ great. cool.
it occurs to him what he's just done about a second later - therion's hands twitch where he's holding them on his face, and his visible eye goes slightly round and stunned as the steam starts to clear off, and he very abruptly snaps his mouth shut. oh. shit. ]
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it absolutely startles the hell out of him. it's a lot to take in at once, being yelled at, being affectionately yelled at, because that's what this is. he can't exactly say that he's surprised that therion is confessing to him by angrily shaking him by the face. that seems right. if he was ever going to picture a scenario where this happened, it probably would involve a lot more yelling than just this, even.
that's a whole lot of thinking to try and stall the fact that he just said he feels the same. jiaoqiu flushes red when he realizes it, and for a very long five seconds, he stares at therion. his bright green eye and his mortified look, and jiaoqiu thinks, no, don't run - it's okay, don't run. he drops his phone, and brings his hands up to cover therion's, pressing his fingers between therion's, loosely lacing them over where he holds jiaoqiu's face. stay.
and then, a little hoarsely, small: ]
... Oh. Okay.
[ which is - stupid, he thinks, what the fuck even is that response. he pauses for just a second before cutting therion off from whatever he might be planning to say with a kiss. easy, gentle, chaste. that's... a little better. ]
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sometimes, in these moments, the voice in therion's head takes on a different accent - a reminder he tried to scrub free from his subconscious to no avail. the five seconds of silence are the most damning, awful feeling in the world, and he's about to fucking bolt when jiaoqiu drops his phone. the noise startles him - if he was a cat, he'd be poofed and prickly - but before he can even react, he's being held in place. therion is as tense as a strung wire, completely unmoving, caught by the hands that are holding him in place.
oh, okay. that's all he has to say? oh okay? oh my god. it's a mix of just - that same horror and shame mixed with something hysterical, a fucking really of emotions, and he's not even sure what he's going to say, except "haha just kidding" which is stupid beyond all reason and a lie, but it all gets smothered when he kisses him.
he deflates, and all the words get cut off with a soft - ] Mmft.
[ mfft. ]
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Stay. Stay, please.
[ he says, a little pleading. don't try to get away, he wants to just - settle this, he wants to make them both understand. he's retired, but he was a strategist, once. not having all the answers drives him nuts, and he's got all the pieces here, he just has to place them. he has to take therion's hand and make him place his pieces, too. they can't skitter away from this, it's all out and he wants answers, he wants - well. he wants therion.
and he wants them to not be scared. god, he wants. it's still a marvel.
he presses his forehead against therion's, eyes closed, stroking therion's hands with his thumbs. ]
I love you.
[ sober. hungover, but sober, he says it, and it's the scariest thing he's done in his entire life. he shakes with it, breath unsteady. there's so much that could go wrong - not just therion getting spooked but the whole world could just revolt. it's been so long since he's been happy and it feels like if he lets himself, if he's selfish like this, it'll endeavor to steal it from him.
but he can't just let this moment pass. so. there it is, plain and exhausted and vulnerable. ]
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jiaoqiu tells him to stay, and - he does. he doesn't bolt, or make a shitty comment. he knows "stay, please" means more than just "stay here, in this moment". he knows it means don't leave all of this, from this conversation to this life. it'd be so easy to just cut and run away, to take boltcutters to one of the only good things he's ever known. therion doesn't make good choices for himself. he runs, keeps the entire world at an arm's length, through biting, snapping teeth and frosty receptions, just like he'd done the very first night they met. and he's tried to run before, too, and he's stopped.
("you look happier, mr. therion." cordelia had said. like it was so obvious on his face, because - because he is happier, and admitting that is just as hard as admitting anything else. is it okay, for him to be happier? is it alright? will the world collapse in on itself - will it all go horribly wrong?)
he's still, as jiaoqiu leans into his space - as he strokes at his hands, he can hear therion take in a soft, shaky breath, as he shuts his eyes tight in the intimacy of it as if he was facing down a great ledge.
and the thing is, when jiaoqiu says it again, he doesn't just feel afraid - if he just felt afraid, that would be the end of it. no, it's this desperate warmth that fills the cavity of his chest until it might explode, this incredibly bright, cloying feeling of love, something so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to breathe with how bad he needs to hear it, how bad he wants it, too. how he'd jumped out of a fucking train to get here, to make sure jiaoqiu meant it. and now, in the light of day, he brings it back up.
his eyes open again. he looks at jiaoqiu - really, really looks at him, his brow knit together, visible eye round, a tremor in his jaw, like a wounded creature in a trap, where the door was held o pen and all he has to do is take the steps and leave. and he can't - he can't, he can't say it again, not without the armor of his temper or the thought that jiaoqiu might not be present, not when he's thinking about betrayal and trust and hurt and all the things that dog his heels.
he sucks in a breath, again. sharper, this time, loud enough to be heard. holds it. a long beat passes.
and he says, slowly, so quiet it's just for jiaoqiu's ears and no one else's, that someone else without his capabilities wouldn't know: ] ...I believe it.
[ he believes it. he does. he couldn't say that last night - couldn't muster the strength. so maybe this is growth, maybe this is his version of steady, that slowly, he lets himself learn how to be loved. it's clumsy. awkward. angry and sharp edged, sometimes, and it fails, sometimes, too, but his progress in the year and change they've known each other has been a desperate, scrabbling march forward, crawling on his belly towards trust once more.
he swallows, hard, after he says it, and closes his eyes again - therion's clever fingers flex against jiaoqiu's cheeks where they're being held, and the hold softens altogether, something cradling, something a little desperate instead of mad, frustrated or annoyed. don't go echoes in stereo. ]
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he stays. and jiaoqiu wishes that he could say it, that he could hear the words, but he knows that therion doesn't have the ability to do that, and he might just have to be okay with that. it's growth. this is so much better than he used to be, and it's leaps and bounds better than jiaoqiu used to be. and he is smart enough, he is clever enough, to know that love can't fix everything all at once. it's always time that does. he can see in the way that therion looks at him, in the way that he tentatively holds out his heart, that therion wants to try, and jiaoqiu is not very good at this and he doesn't know how to take care without ripping himself apart, but he wants to try, too.
i believe you, therion says, and jiaoqiu believes him - both that he knows jiaoqiu means it, and that he feels the same way.
he's quiet for a little bit, resting his face against therion's hands, turning to nuzzle at them. he's shaky and strung out on adrenaline, his head hurts and he's cold and a little uncertain, but therion is here with him and they're both desperately trying to meet each other, as awkward as they are. that feels good. it's not perfect, but it doesn't have to be. ]
Therion.
[ he says, finally, voice very soft, barely above a whisper. ]
I don't want to... drag you down with me. [ a hard swallow. ] I am an anchor, and if I'm not careful I will sink you to the bottom of the ocean.
[ it's just something he worries about. therion deserves to be free, to go wherever he wants, and jiaoqiu would let him go if he couldn't handle that. therion doesn't need to be trapped in the quicksand with him if he doesn't want to. but - the way this comes off, it's not so much of a warning as much it is a question: do you love me even though I'm broken? ]
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in the quieter moments, sometimes, he lets himself reflect on it. you look happier. life does feel a little... it feels better. it's amazing - how didn't realize how lonely he was, and he might never realize it, or at least might not ever say it out loud, or even allow himself to look the concept in the face, but it's true. and if jiaoqiu says that he brings color to his life, then maybe for therion, it's a warmth, a heat that he was always craving, a malnourished, cold thief that's never been satisfied.
but right now, he doesn't - and thankfully, it's jiaoqiu, already vulnerable, who takes another unsteady step forward among this bramble-lined pathway. therion's eyes flutter back open when he says his name, and he regards him as he describes, in that quiet voice, himself as an anchor. and it's not to say that therion hasn't thought it, before, but not in the way jiaoqiu might think. only back when this all first started. when they first arrived to sunshade. but every second that he's thought it, he's been rebuffed. when he returned today, it wasn't because he felt forced to take care of jiaoqiu. it was because he wanted to hear what he had to say.
after a long, long moment, he sighs.
his hands are still on jiaoqiu's face, so, this time, when he squishes it again, it's very gentle. almost like a necessary gesture, a routine, and he looks at him, a frown on his face, brows furrowed, but it's more rueful than it is ready to just agree. ]
Yeah? [ sink him to the bottom of the ocean. there's this edge to therion's voice - a hint of his usual confidence, assured. unafraid. ] I'd like to see you try.
[ deadweight, jiaoqiu said. i just have to throw you off this here cliff, and all my problems are solved. despite every awful thing therion says and often thinks about himself, argues up and down that he is someone who uses other people, just like darius used him, it's not anywhere close to the truth. ]
Takes a lot to pull me down off of anything. [ in fact, it is tacitly something therion refuses. ] You're still here for a reason. So am I.
[ so once again, in not so many words, i'm not going anywhere. or an answer to jiaoqiu's question: a yes. ]
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he'd almost said it earlier, even. welcome home.
it'll take time for therion to get more comfortable, to get to a point where he can trust enough to give in entirely, and it'll take time for jiaoqiu to let go of the hangups about being useless, purposeless. but they're moving. it's not stagnant. jiaoqiu can remember every hour of every day of the last few weeks and that means something. it isn't all fixed just because of this, but it's better. they're happier. lighter. it's not hard to tell that jiaoqiu's life has gotten so much more full, with therion around. he's not a corpse dragging himself to work and bed, over and over. he's not so alone anymore.
there's something like relief on his face, when therion tells him in so many words that he's not going anywhere. maybe a tinge desperate. like it means so very much to him to know that therion doesn't think of him as a burden.
carefully, jiaoqiu lets go of therion's hands, and reaches. curls his fingers into the front of therion's shirt, and tugs him a little. come here. if therion goes, jiaoqiu wraps him up in a hug, warm and solid. rests his hand on therion's neck, like always, protective, and presses a kiss to the side of therion's head. just here, in a heap on the floor. ]
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