when they get back to sunshade, jiaoqiu busies himself immediately. he sets therion up to recover in their room at primrose's place, insists he stays put for at least a week, and makes sure that he doesn't make himself sick. the houses out in that new neighborhood are now open, so jiaoqiu pulls together his savings, and buys a small one at the edge of town. for now, it's mostly empty, but... it's there, for both of them. they can make their way to it eventually. jiaoqiu is hesitant to mention it, even after everything, because he doesn't want to stress therion out while he's healing.
what he eventually says is he bought himself a place, and therion is welcome to live there with him if he wants, but he doesn't have to. and then he doesn't bring it up again, because he gets distracted by the fact that the anniversary of his general's death is coming.
it snuck up on him. jiaoqiu is almost startled, when he looks at the date and realizes how close it is. there's a lot of emotions that go through him at once, from panic to melancholy to something distant and overwhelmingly blank. he isn't close enough to walk to the graveyard, for the first time in years. he doesn't know what to do about it. and therion still is recovering, and he doesn't want to force him on a train, and - well, he almost doesn't want therion to see him at all, that day. it's been a long time since he's sunken down into the nihility, and that's strange to think about. he doesn't even know if it'll be that way now. he doesn't know if it'll get a grasp on him, after how much better he's been doing lately.
but he can't skip it. it'd feel wrong to not visit them. so.
it's a day or two before the anniversary date, and jiaoqiu settles down next to therion, wherever they are. hands him a snack - some riceballs. ]
... How are you feeling, today? [ he starts, head tilting. ]
[ it's a little strange to feel relieved to be coming home.
home, as jiaoqiu had called it, and therion had agreed. not begrudgingly, but allowed himself to, allowed himself to fall and be caught, just like jiaoqiu had asked, and allowed himself to trust. it's ended with him here, back in sunshade, alive as opposed to dead in a ditch, and currently considering the concept of living in a house with someone else. of using the front door, so to speak.
he doesn't get to do much considering of it, though. recovering from his injuries led to trouble, and therion, being therion, he acted like he was fine too quickly, until he passed out on jiaoqiu with a very, very high fever when they were just out for what was supposed to be a relaxing walk. the sickness took him out, and he sleeps more than he ever really has over the week or so when they return, not even putting up a fuss about being in one place because his body seems to recognize that he is in fact somewhere finally safe. it's probably a little scary to see, but it means he's recovering, so... maybe it's for the better.
either way, a week passes. the home mention felt like a fever dream - jiaoqiu doesn't bring it up again, and that's fine, though it recurs here in there in strange dreams. dreams of houses, cozy places, warmth he can't ever hold for long, kitchens full of spices. he dreams about a christmas tree. he also dreams about opening a door in the house and tumbling off the side of a cliff, again and again. it's a long, strange week.
but he's at the point now where he thinks he's fine. the fever's mostly cleared, and his head...hurts... still, but it's manageable, and he's about ready to crawl out of his skin and leave to do something from being fussed over. when jiaoqiu comes to find him today, therion's completely unaware of whatever he's thinking about - instead, he's just sitting on the bed, blankets over his lap, and picking dirt out from under his nails with his switchblade. there's a bottle of black nail polish sitting next to him, unopened, and that seems to be the intent for the current hour so he doesn't like, crawl out of the window. he does feel guilty for worrying jiaoqiu so badly, so he's trying (?) to behave himself at least a little.
when he's addressed, he glances up from what he's doing, glances down at the riceball snack, and shrugs. ]
Bored. [ well okay he's trying to behave but his attitude is no less surly than usual. he is so bored. ] Are you gonna believe me when I say fine this time...?
[ honestly, therion passing out from a fever after saying he was fine means it's lucky that jiaoqiu is even letting him sit up, right now. it scared the absolute shit out of him, and primrose probably had to like, intervene and remind him that therion wasn't going to die from something as simple as that. still. that sits at the back of his mind. lurks. two scares in such a short time has him uneasy, not that he notices all that much. that sort of thing he just buries.
but anyway - therion is behaving, and so jiaoqiu doesn't smother. he allows for therion to be up and do things in the apartment, at the very least. right this second, he's a bit grouchy because therion isn't eating, but that's always how it is, and - well, other things are more important to talk about. he'll fuss therion into eating in a bit.
he exhales slow. ]
Considering the last time you insisted you were fine you passed out on me about an hour later, we are at an impasse. [ he says, dryly. a beat. ] ... I mostly believe it.
[ normally he'd settle under the blankets with therion, but right now, he's fidgety. ]
If you keep recovering at this rate, I'd like to be able to leave you on your own for a day.
[ ok listen, that's. fair. he just kind of grunts - he'll accept 'mostly', and lets jiaoqiu keep talking. and then, of course: ]
Wow. Seems like a pret-ty big responsibility. Don't know if I can handle it.
[ therion says as dry as the desert, because he is therion, but it's just his usual level of sass - there's no heat behind it, and he sets his switchblade down to take a rice ball. again, behaving.
(getting the business from primrose after he woke up and from jiaoqiu left an impression on therion, truthfully. but sometimes, old habits do die hard, and sometimes, your pride is your problem. at least, in the time they've come to know each other, he's willing to be apologetic, to behave, to accept whatever fussing is thrown at him, because he's learning. that, and the fear on jiaoqiu's face, brief as it was, seared into his feverish brain, and that lurks in his mind, too. you caused that.)
more seriously, sass aside, he glances over as he's picking at the rice ball just because, fiddling with the wrapper for something to do with his hands before he finally takes a bite of it. there's a note of curiosity in his voice, something a little softer and more genuine. ]
... Big plans?
[ it's not like they're codependent or anything, mostly, but... it is unusual, so it catches his attention. ]
[ rolls his eyes briefly at the first sass but doesn't comment - he knows there's no heat behind it.
as for the rest, he reaches for one of the rice balls himself, picking at it. this is not nearly spicy enough for him, but it gives him something to do with his hands. one of his ears is - not pressed down, but it's eased down from where they normally stand up. big plans, therion asks. are they big? he doesn't know. it really depends. ]
It's almost the anniversary of General Feixiao and Moze's deaths. [ he says, a little stiffly. ] And... I'd like to visit their graves, as usual.
[ this isn't hard to say so much as it just - unsettles him, more than anything. it's always an out of body experience, going to that graveyard. ]
the sentence brings up a memory - a stroke of muted pink in the center of a rainy graveyard, on an ice cold day. it feels like years ago, now. it brings the memory of therion leading him back by the hand. of how discordant it was to interact with him. it was the first moment that therion went to find jiaoqiu and spend time with him with no means to ends, because he cared for him, because seeing him like that was so jarring that of course it sent shockwaves to therion's soft, soft core. it had been something, the tenderness of someone who had never been cared for and didn't know how to start.
therion's quiet for a second, chewing that over, and his gaze slides over to jiaoqiu. present. alive. here. ]
... By yourself?
[ that's. hm.
he doesn't know how he feels about that. jiaoqiu was so lost then that it took therion of all people to anchor him back into being. he was awkward and sharp-edged, but it was one of the first moments when he realized how right he was, about how something was wrong with jiaoqiu, and about just how broken he really was, about what he'd been through.
jiaoqiu has come a long way, but the idea of him going alone unsettles him, too. jiaoqiu sat there for hours. will he just do that again, by himself? ]
[ silence, for a long moment, as he thinks about that. does he want to be alone? really, not just because he doesn't want therion to freak out. he only really remembers the second half of that day, only really was alive when therion shoved him into the shower. everything before that is hazy - the color of the roses on the way home, the patter of rain on the umbrella above his head. the warm water and therion's fingers in his fur was what woke him up.
scary. for the first time in years, that feels scary. but. ]
You would be bored. You wouldn't want to sit in front of gravestones for hours and do nothing else.
[ he says, finally, with a very, very small smile. it's not empty, but it's barely there - like he's just trying to be light about it and is bad at it. therion's already bored in here, he doesn't want to subject him to hours of nothing, should that happen. he glances down at the riceball in his hand. ]
I should be alright. And... perhaps I'll visit Sushang, as well. You can be free of my fussing for a day or two, yes?
[ to phrase it like that - you would be bored. you wouldn't want to. i should be fine. it's not really about therion, it's about jiaoqiu, and his loss, and this great void in his life that therion knows that he sidesteps. ]
[ there's pros and cons. he doesn't want therion to travel, but he also is afraid of what might happen if he's alone. not so much for himself, because he very rarely ever considers himself, but because if he loses an entire day, he might get himself into trouble. he doesn't know if hoolay is still in town, either. that's more reason for therion to not be there.
he fidgets with the riceball, and then puts a chunk of it in his mouth, ear flicking. ]
If you'd like to come with me, you can. But you don't need to feel obligated.
[ that's about as much as he can manage. he doesn't want to be alone, but he can't be selfish, and so he won't be. ]
[ ... well, okay. i don't know is better than before, better than the fake smile. he's never shied away from the sharp edges, or from ugly parts, and jiaoqiu faltering here doesn't really put him off.
first of all: ]
I don't do shit because I feel obligated, fluff. [ this is a mutter, low, as he takes a bite of his snack also, just for something to do with his mouth, with his hands. the problem is that he doesn't know why jiaoqiu is saying it like this - is it because he's worried about what happens, or what could happen? does he genuinely want some time alone? therion doesn't know how to grieve, he doesn't know how to mourn, but he doesn't necessarily want jiaoqiu to stand on the edge of the void alone, either, let alone dive in. last time, it was fate that brought him back, a sheer moment of chance where he found jiaoqiu drowning.
this time...
he mulls it over for a little longer. ]
I'll go. [ a beat. ] Or... I can come get you, or something.
[ maybe that's a good compromise...? he offers it forward a little awkwardly, frowning down at the half eaten rice ball in his hands. being gentle is hard. i don't want to leave you alone, is what it says, quietly distressed, quietly trying to understand. ]
[ being gentle is hard, but therion tries, and jiaoqiu sees it. he sees the worry, and it makes his chest ache a bit.
there's another pause. and then carefully, he shifts and brings a hand very softly up to rest against the side of therion's face. leans in - kisses him on the cheek, in a move that is delicate and sweet, even though he knows it'll embarrass him or make him shy away. therion is trying to help, and jiaoqiu could stand to let him, sometimes, he knows. so, even though he worries, jiaoqiu doesn't close the front door. he lets it open just enough. ]
... Come with me, then. [ he says, and he already sounds tired. worn. ] I want you with me. I'd just hoped to spare you the melancholy.
[ god only knows why, therion thinks, but - the phrase i want you with me does have its intended effect, especially combined with the kiss to his cheek, and it makes his heart squeeze. he's not really the best company when it comes to...well...most things, but especially this. after all, half of his rescue of jiaoqiu from his rainswept misery was done through grumbling at him and yelling at him to take better care of himself.
he's a little pink in the face, just enough to be seen on his tan skin, and he huffs, turning his head away (and that's it - flustering just a little, but not fleeing entirely) and says in a deadpan; ]
What can I say. I'm really into ennui. [ okay, therion
snark aside, though, at the genuine thank you, he keeps his gaze away and makes a noise in acknowledgement, accepting it, because he knows jiaoqiu likes that, when he does, and he knows, he knows this matters. so.
there's a little pause, and then, a little awkwardly: ] ...need anything for the trip?
[ that first bit makes him laugh a bit, a snort. he had better be into ennui, that's jiaoqiu's whole inside brainspace. or well, it used to be. he really is doing better lately, and it's all because of the thief here in bed with him. said thief turns his head, and jiaoqiu rests his head on therion's shoulder, letting him look away. he does appreciate the acknowledgement. it feels good, and it's another little step forward - therion's gotten better at holding his hand out in return, too.
this'll be okay. this trip. maybe it won't be bad. maybe he'll be able to visit the graves like a normal person.
as for the question, his tail waves back and forth lazily on the bed. ]
Flowers. I'd like to make a meal for them, but... I suppose alcohol will do. The General was so very fond of drinking. Did I ever tell you...
[ a beat. ]
Well - never mind that. In any case, we should be prepared to go tomorrow, if you're ready for that.
it's - nice, when jiaoqiu rests against his shoulder like that. though he won't say it, he feels the quiet affirmation to what he's trying to do, and though therion is always, always tense, a little of it fades out underneath his cheek. though he stays looking off to the wall, reaching up to adjust his scarf so jiaoqiu doesn't accidentally choke him or something if he starts feeling feisty, and partially just for something to do. his own unique brand of affection is this - of settling, like a cat that has chosen to sit beside you, or to rest against your side.
despite looking away, he's still listening, as ever, and when jiaoqiu cuts himself off, it doesn't go unnoticed. he grunts, at first, just affirmation about tomorrow. yeah, yeah, whatever, he's always ready to get up and run.
there's almost a hesitance here, but it's not because he doesn't want to tell therion about this. no, it's more like he's looking at a closet that is packed particularly full, one that hasn't been opened in a long time. he doesn't know what's in there. he doesn't know how much of it is going to come falling out on top of him or if he'll be able to even put it back, once it's out. will it bury him? can he leave the closet open? he just... doesn't know.
jiaoqiu fiddles with therion's clothes, adjusting the scarf, too. and then, soft: ]
Once, she went to meet General Jing Yuan for important business. She drank far, far too much beforehand, and when she met him, she proceeded to destroy his property and spar with him until she passed out. [ he sounds... amused? exasperated, but amused. ] The call I received from General Jing Yuan was... unhappy in tone, to say the least.
[ ... that seems okay. he doesn't feel distressed saying this much. ]
[ the hesitance is fine - to someone else, it might be surprising, but therion is a good listener, both in his line of work and in his personal life, in the things that he cares about. and with the air relatively cleared between the two of them in terms of that particular issue, he settles more easily into this, quietly paying attention, letting jiaoqiu do as he likes.
his clothes are a little less shitty, lately. warm sweaters. clothes that are clean and soft. a scarf, knitted with a gradation of color like a fox's tail, still kept pristine after a bloody incident, still his to be adjusted. therion watches him over the top of it as he tells the story, silent, but focused.
and it's interesting, in that he only knows bits and pieces about jiaoqiu's life before. this is the first time he's told him anything mundane, and he doesn't know shit about what it means to heal, but it feels a little like an important step forward. he's smart enough to pick up on that.
the entire story gets therion to snort, a ripple of amusement crossing his face. ]
You really like to keep your hands full, huh.
[ you like a certain kind of person, clearly. it's self-deprecating, here, because he is an asshole and a problem also but he knows how much jiaoqiu likes to fuss, and that sort of clicks into place with the context, too.]
[ a small laugh, at that. he guesses he does like to keep his hands full. it's - there's something about keeping someone alive. he has purpose. he didn't have any, after being on the frontlines.
but he did, when feixiao wandered into his life. and he did, when therion followed some time after. jiaoqiu pauses again, playing with the end of therion's scarf - gradient, soft, clean, warm - not bloodstained. saved, because it didn't belong to anybody but therion. he strokes his fingers over it. curls a little closer, seeking warmth. ]
I suppose I do. [ he acquiesces, finally. but there's amusement to it. he doesn't mind. therion knows by now that jiaoqiu enjoys looking after him, and looks for any way to do it. ]
Part of my job was to soothe diplomatic disputes. So yes, I did in fact manage to wriggle her out of trouble. General Jing Yuan is a good man. I would not call us friends, necessarily, but we had a healthy respect for one another, and he knew how my General was. She was like the wind. Often just out of my grasp.
[ a beat, and then he shifts and turns his face to hide it against therion's neck, against the scarf, breathing it in. okay. that - he thinks that's enough, for now. it's starting to ache. ]
[ therion mutters, but there's something there that just resonates: often, just out of my grasp.
being a handful is not where the similarities end, apparently. for a moment, therion feels something guilty curl up in the hinges of his ribcage. transience has been always been of life for therion, so many times that he's done just that, slipped away from jiaoqiu and vanished, less the wind and more the shadows. it brings to mind the talking to primrose gave him when he came to, about the void of nothingness he's seen jiaoqiu drop into a thousand times, that he dropped into again. about anchors. about all sorts of things.
but.
but things are - they're not perfect, and they never will be. but maybe they're getting better. maybe he's learned how to trust in a way that is steadfast now, metal instead of glass, brittle but much stronger than it ever was before. he wandered into jiaoqiu's life, and now he leaves his scarf here, so that he might come back another day.
when he turns against him, it shakes therion out of that train of his thoughts, and after a brief moment of hesitation, he shifts, pulling his arm out to hook it around jiaoqiu, curling it around his waist, fingers settling in the fabric of his shirt and holding there. a tiny little lifeline.
[ things are not perfect, and jiaoqiu doesn't expect them to be. he'd be unhappy if they were. perfection is no different than nihility - if there's nothing to fix, if there's nothing that changes, is there really any point? both of them are learning, both of them are changing over time, figuring each other out, getting to a place where it's easier and easier to know what the other needs. therion needs his freedom, and jiaoqiu needs a thread, a kite string. as long as he comes back, jiaoqiu will always be content.
therion wraps an arm around him, and it's that kite string. it makes him sigh out slow, and relax a tiny bit. he's here. he feels safe, this way. grounded. therion's gotten so much better at this since they got back. ]
... Hm. [ he says, after a moment, sliding his arms around therion's waist. he keeps his face buried, warming himself up against therion's side. ] I suppose it'd be for Moze more than it'd be for the General. So... perhaps something with tuskpir. A rice bowl. He had a very simple palette.
[ there's a little wiggling to accommodate for this - jiaoqiu is made up of angles and so is therion, so he has to sometimes find the right ways to fit them together, but he does. like a cat, fitting into all the right places, the exact right spot. he can tell he's hiding a little, or clinging. a floating boat in the middle of an ocean.
there's a soft huff of a noise as he takes that to mind. tuskpir. right. you can get that in the markets. ]
You like people like that, too. [ a little dry, there - it's not like he ate anything fancy until jiaoqiu came along. the fact that he even eats meals nowadays is kind of a miracle, but it's just side commentary in the end. there's something tentative here, the chance for jiaoqiu to carry on, if he wants to. he knows he can be just as fragile as he can be strong. ] Makes the spice a torture tactic.
[ it's funny to realize sometimes that therion has a little of both feixiao and moze in him. jiaoqiu supposes that fits his taste, at the very least - that he's consistent. he half-smiles, when therion makes that comment, eyes closed. maybe, he supposes, he just likes helping fix people. not because there's something wrong with them, but because it means they live more fulfilling lives as a result.
he even laughs a little, when it comes to the joke, soft. and... for a moment, he's just quiet, soaking in the way they fit. he's always unsure how much he wants to say, with this. the only time you cant get him to shut up. ]
Moze said that, too. He could use the spice as a weapon to deter our enemies, he said. [ ... ] He complained far less than you.
[ that's teasing, very clearly so. but there's a sadness there, too. a pain he really hasn't ever dealt with. ]
But on the other side, you tell me when something is wrong, mostly. So I suppose I can take that much.
[ a beat. ] ... You are not a replacement for them. You share similarities, but I care for you as you. I hope you know that.
[ therion doesn't often put himself towards thinking about the past. not his own, not other people's - partially because he really only lives one day at a time, more concerned with where his meals come from than the future or the past, and partially because his own is a knife wound that's still sluggishly bleeding, that has only recently started to close. that was much the same with jiaoqiu, until parts of theirs were thrown out in front of them, reoccurring in the way the past often tends to, but it was out of that same sense of privacy that he's never really asked.
the sense of privacy, of course, and the fact that he'd have to be an idiot not to see how badly these losses hurt jiaoqiu. from wet gravestones to the tentatively approached mentions, therion's not really in the business of hurting him on purpose (despite how it must have seemed, sometimes) and so he's never asked. this part of his past is still much of a mystery, unrelatable for someone who has never had people to lose. so, he doesn't know much, of this general, of this moze, and he accepts what he's told and holds it, and doesn't ask for more.
he listens to the words tentatively offered, and lets jiaoqiu decide how close he wants to step to them - and as he continues on, therion snorts. ]
As if I'd be any kind of replacement. [ very, very dryly: ] You see my bounty on that wanted poster?
[ except it was too low in his (not) humble opinion, but it's light to match the heaviness, his fingers curl a little tighter against jiaoqiu's side, quietly bolstering the lighter side of his teasing, a mismatch to the words that come out of his mouth. ]
Past is the past, present's the present. [ and that's that. ]
Mm, yes. Though even with that amount, if I turned you in, I'd never have to work another day in my life...
[ he teases back, gentle. he would never even dream of doing it, especially when therion curls his fingers at his side a little more. he's okay. he can joke, he can play around with this much. maybe he can try a little harder. a little more. he can take a couple steps into the void and pull out the things he stored there, if therion is willing to listen. it seems like he is. it means that maybe they can both open up, bit by bit.
past is past, present is present. he wishes that were true for him. he can work towards it.
after a moment, he leans up to press a kiss to therion's cheek. ]
Well, then. For the present, let's figure out what we'll be having for dinner, hm?
[ and tomorrow they can head out together. he'll look for a hotel - maybe the same one they stayed at before, even - and they can figure out what to do. how long to stay, what therion can do while jiaoqiu is occupied... he absently thinks about a backup plan, but that shouldn't be necessary. he's going to be okay. probably. ]
[ the first part gets a scoff and a roll of his eyes, the dislodge of his head to do so with gusto, even if it twinges a little at the leftover ache from the concussion. okay, yeah. sure.
it's a little nice to be able to feel that way, if only because - it's only very, very recently that therion felt safe enough to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. a betrayal like that would be a breaking point, and would be what he expected of jiaoqiu, of anyone who got close to him a year and a half or so ago. he's still wary and cautious, still deeply distrustful of anyone and everyone, but its the slow progress of change that has cemented jiaoqiu as someone trustworthy, and that's worth its weight in more gold than any bounty, joking or otherwise.
the kiss to his cheek has him briefly shut his eye, and there's a huff. ]
Sure. [ ... ] You gonna have a heart attack if I go out for a bit?
[ considering the fussing and all, but - asking, even in his rough way, is a consideration and recognition of jiaoqiu's worry, or at least the place where it comes from. ]
[ it's cute, though - him asking, it's cute. he recognizes it as the consideration and extended hand that it is, knowing that therion is being conscientious of jiaoqiu's fears, of therion just vanishing. and sure, jiaoqiu is a little reluctant to let him go, but he means it when he says he won't trap therion. he doesn't need to baby him. he can just believe that therion will be able to navigate, even though he's still recovering here and there. the trust goes both ways. ]
Maybe. [ he says, in that lighter tone. ] Go on. If you start to feel unwell, please send me a message.
[ don't be stubborn, is the unsaid part, but he doesn't scold or lecture, just pulls away so he can slide off the bed to go putter around in the kitchen. therion will see him clutching his phone in his hand as he does. the trust goes both ways, but he's a worrier by nature, even if he's very good at hiding it. ]
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when they get back to sunshade, jiaoqiu busies himself immediately. he sets therion up to recover in their room at primrose's place, insists he stays put for at least a week, and makes sure that he doesn't make himself sick. the houses out in that new neighborhood are now open, so jiaoqiu pulls together his savings, and buys a small one at the edge of town. for now, it's mostly empty, but... it's there, for both of them. they can make their way to it eventually. jiaoqiu is hesitant to mention it, even after everything, because he doesn't want to stress therion out while he's healing.
what he eventually says is he bought himself a place, and therion is welcome to live there with him if he wants, but he doesn't have to. and then he doesn't bring it up again, because he gets distracted by the fact that the anniversary of his general's death is coming.
it snuck up on him. jiaoqiu is almost startled, when he looks at the date and realizes how close it is. there's a lot of emotions that go through him at once, from panic to melancholy to something distant and overwhelmingly blank. he isn't close enough to walk to the graveyard, for the first time in years. he doesn't know what to do about it. and therion still is recovering, and he doesn't want to force him on a train, and - well, he almost doesn't want therion to see him at all, that day. it's been a long time since he's sunken down into the nihility, and that's strange to think about. he doesn't even know if it'll be that way now. he doesn't know if it'll get a grasp on him, after how much better he's been doing lately.
but he can't skip it. it'd feel wrong to not visit them. so.
it's a day or two before the anniversary date, and jiaoqiu settles down next to therion, wherever they are. hands him a snack - some riceballs. ]
... How are you feeling, today? [ he starts, head tilting. ]
no subject
home, as jiaoqiu had called it, and therion had agreed. not begrudgingly, but allowed himself to, allowed himself to fall and be caught, just like jiaoqiu had asked, and allowed himself to trust. it's ended with him here, back in sunshade, alive as opposed to dead in a ditch, and currently considering the concept of living in a house with someone else. of using the front door, so to speak.
he doesn't get to do much considering of it, though. recovering from his injuries led to trouble, and therion, being therion, he acted like he was fine too quickly, until he passed out on jiaoqiu with a very, very high fever when they were just out for what was supposed to be a relaxing walk. the sickness took him out, and he sleeps more than he ever really has over the week or so when they return, not even putting up a fuss about being in one place because his body seems to recognize that he is in fact somewhere finally safe. it's probably a little scary to see, but it means he's recovering, so... maybe it's for the better.
either way, a week passes. the home mention felt like a fever dream - jiaoqiu doesn't bring it up again, and that's fine, though it recurs here in there in strange dreams. dreams of houses, cozy places, warmth he can't ever hold for long, kitchens full of spices. he dreams about a christmas tree. he also dreams about opening a door in the house and tumbling off the side of a cliff, again and again. it's a long, strange week.
but he's at the point now where he thinks he's fine. the fever's mostly cleared, and his head...hurts... still, but it's manageable, and he's about ready to crawl out of his skin and leave to do something from being fussed over. when jiaoqiu comes to find him today, therion's completely unaware of whatever he's thinking about - instead, he's just sitting on the bed, blankets over his lap, and picking dirt out from under his nails with his switchblade. there's a bottle of black nail polish sitting next to him, unopened, and that seems to be the intent for the current hour so he doesn't like, crawl out of the window. he does feel guilty for worrying jiaoqiu so badly, so he's trying (?) to behave himself at least a little.
when he's addressed, he glances up from what he's doing, glances down at the riceball snack, and shrugs. ]
Bored. [ well okay he's trying to behave but his attitude is no less surly than usual. he is so bored. ] Are you gonna believe me when I say fine this time...?
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but anyway - therion is behaving, and so jiaoqiu doesn't smother. he allows for therion to be up and do things in the apartment, at the very least. right this second, he's a bit grouchy because therion isn't eating, but that's always how it is, and - well, other things are more important to talk about. he'll fuss therion into eating in a bit.
he exhales slow. ]
Considering the last time you insisted you were fine you passed out on me about an hour later, we are at an impasse. [ he says, dryly. a beat. ] ... I mostly believe it.
[ normally he'd settle under the blankets with therion, but right now, he's fidgety. ]
If you keep recovering at this rate, I'd like to be able to leave you on your own for a day.
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Wow. Seems like a pret-ty big responsibility. Don't know if I can handle it.
[ therion says as dry as the desert, because he is therion, but it's just his usual level of sass - there's no heat behind it, and he sets his switchblade down to take a rice ball. again, behaving.
(getting the business from primrose after he woke up and from jiaoqiu left an impression on therion, truthfully. but sometimes, old habits do die hard, and sometimes, your pride is your problem. at least, in the time they've come to know each other, he's willing to be apologetic, to behave, to accept whatever fussing is thrown at him, because he's learning. that, and the fear on jiaoqiu's face, brief as it was, seared into his feverish brain, and that lurks in his mind, too. you caused that.)
more seriously, sass aside, he glances over as he's picking at the rice ball just because, fiddling with the wrapper for something to do with his hands before he finally takes a bite of it. there's a note of curiosity in his voice, something a little softer and more genuine. ]
... Big plans?
[ it's not like they're codependent or anything, mostly, but... it is unusual, so it catches his attention. ]
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as for the rest, he reaches for one of the rice balls himself, picking at it. this is not nearly spicy enough for him, but it gives him something to do with his hands. one of his ears is - not pressed down, but it's eased down from where they normally stand up. big plans, therion asks. are they big? he doesn't know. it really depends. ]
It's almost the anniversary of General Feixiao and Moze's deaths. [ he says, a little stiffly. ] And... I'd like to visit their graves, as usual.
[ this isn't hard to say so much as it just - unsettles him, more than anything. it's always an out of body experience, going to that graveyard. ]
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the sentence brings up a memory - a stroke of muted pink in the center of a rainy graveyard, on an ice cold day. it feels like years ago, now. it brings the memory of therion leading him back by the hand. of how discordant it was to interact with him. it was the first moment that therion went to find jiaoqiu and spend time with him with no means to ends, because he cared for him, because seeing him like that was so jarring that of course it sent shockwaves to therion's soft, soft core. it had been something, the tenderness of someone who had never been cared for and didn't know how to start.
therion's quiet for a second, chewing that over, and his gaze slides over to jiaoqiu. present. alive. here. ]
... By yourself?
[ that's. hm.
he doesn't know how he feels about that. jiaoqiu was so lost then that it took therion of all people to anchor him back into being. he was awkward and sharp-edged, but it was one of the first moments when he realized how right he was, about how something was wrong with jiaoqiu, and about just how broken he really was, about what he'd been through.
jiaoqiu has come a long way, but the idea of him going alone unsettles him, too. jiaoqiu sat there for hours. will he just do that again, by himself? ]
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scary. for the first time in years, that feels scary. but. ]
You would be bored. You wouldn't want to sit in front of gravestones for hours and do nothing else.
[ he says, finally, with a very, very small smile. it's not empty, but it's barely there - like he's just trying to be light about it and is bad at it. therion's already bored in here, he doesn't want to subject him to hours of nothing, should that happen. he glances down at the riceball in his hand. ]
I should be alright. And... perhaps I'll visit Sushang, as well. You can be free of my fussing for a day or two, yes?
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all of that. he frowns, and just says, bluntly: ]
Do you want to go alone, or not?
[ to phrase it like that - you would be bored. you wouldn't want to. i should be fine. it's not really about therion, it's about jiaoqiu, and his loss, and this great void in his life that therion knows that he sidesteps. ]
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... I don't know.
[ there's pros and cons. he doesn't want therion to travel, but he also is afraid of what might happen if he's alone. not so much for himself, because he very rarely ever considers himself, but because if he loses an entire day, he might get himself into trouble. he doesn't know if hoolay is still in town, either. that's more reason for therion to not be there.
he fidgets with the riceball, and then puts a chunk of it in his mouth, ear flicking. ]
If you'd like to come with me, you can. But you don't need to feel obligated.
[ that's about as much as he can manage. he doesn't want to be alone, but he can't be selfish, and so he won't be. ]
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first of all: ]
I don't do shit because I feel obligated, fluff. [ this is a mutter, low, as he takes a bite of his snack also, just for something to do with his mouth, with his hands. the problem is that he doesn't know why jiaoqiu is saying it like this - is it because he's worried about what happens, or what could happen? does he genuinely want some time alone? therion doesn't know how to grieve, he doesn't know how to mourn, but he doesn't necessarily want jiaoqiu to stand on the edge of the void alone, either, let alone dive in. last time, it was fate that brought him back, a sheer moment of chance where he found jiaoqiu drowning.
this time...
he mulls it over for a little longer. ]
I'll go. [ a beat. ] Or... I can come get you, or something.
[ maybe that's a good compromise...? he offers it forward a little awkwardly, frowning down at the half eaten rice ball in his hands. being gentle is hard. i don't want to leave you alone, is what it says, quietly distressed, quietly trying to understand. ]
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there's another pause. and then carefully, he shifts and brings a hand very softly up to rest against the side of therion's face. leans in - kisses him on the cheek, in a move that is delicate and sweet, even though he knows it'll embarrass him or make him shy away. therion is trying to help, and jiaoqiu could stand to let him, sometimes, he knows. so, even though he worries, jiaoqiu doesn't close the front door. he lets it open just enough. ]
... Come with me, then. [ he says, and he already sounds tired. worn. ] I want you with me. I'd just hoped to spare you the melancholy.
[ ... ]
Thank you.
[ genuinely. ]
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he's a little pink in the face, just enough to be seen on his tan skin, and he huffs, turning his head away (and that's it - flustering just a little, but not fleeing entirely) and says in a deadpan; ]
What can I say. I'm really into ennui. [ okay, therion
snark aside, though, at the genuine thank you, he keeps his gaze away and makes a noise in acknowledgement, accepting it, because he knows jiaoqiu likes that, when he does, and he knows, he knows this matters. so.
there's a little pause, and then, a little awkwardly: ] ...need anything for the trip?
[ flowers, or. snacks. or. whatever. ]
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this'll be okay. this trip. maybe it won't be bad. maybe he'll be able to visit the graves like a normal person.
as for the question, his tail waves back and forth lazily on the bed. ]
Flowers. I'd like to make a meal for them, but... I suppose alcohol will do. The General was so very fond of drinking. Did I ever tell you...
[ a beat. ]
Well - never mind that. In any case, we should be prepared to go tomorrow, if you're ready for that.
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it's - nice, when jiaoqiu rests against his shoulder like that. though he won't say it, he feels the quiet affirmation to what he's trying to do, and though therion is always, always tense, a little of it fades out underneath his cheek. though he stays looking off to the wall, reaching up to adjust his scarf so jiaoqiu doesn't accidentally choke him or something if he starts feeling feisty, and partially just for something to do. his own unique brand of affection is this - of settling, like a cat that has chosen to sit beside you, or to rest against your side.
despite looking away, he's still listening, as ever, and when jiaoqiu cuts himself off, it doesn't go unnoticed. he grunts, at first, just affirmation about tomorrow. yeah, yeah, whatever, he's always ready to get up and run.
silence passes for a moment. one. two. ]
... No, you didn't tell me.
[ there's an opening, offered. ]
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there's almost a hesitance here, but it's not because he doesn't want to tell therion about this. no, it's more like he's looking at a closet that is packed particularly full, one that hasn't been opened in a long time. he doesn't know what's in there. he doesn't know how much of it is going to come falling out on top of him or if he'll be able to even put it back, once it's out. will it bury him? can he leave the closet open? he just... doesn't know.
jiaoqiu fiddles with therion's clothes, adjusting the scarf, too. and then, soft: ]
Once, she went to meet General Jing Yuan for important business. She drank far, far too much beforehand, and when she met him, she proceeded to destroy his property and spar with him until she passed out. [ he sounds... amused? exasperated, but amused. ] The call I received from General Jing Yuan was... unhappy in tone, to say the least.
[ ... that seems okay. he doesn't feel distressed saying this much. ]
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his clothes are a little less shitty, lately. warm sweaters. clothes that are clean and soft. a scarf, knitted with a gradation of color like a fox's tail, still kept pristine after a bloody incident, still his to be adjusted. therion watches him over the top of it as he tells the story, silent, but focused.
and it's interesting, in that he only knows bits and pieces about jiaoqiu's life before. this is the first time he's told him anything mundane, and he doesn't know shit about what it means to heal, but it feels a little like an important step forward. he's smart enough to pick up on that.
the entire story gets therion to snort, a ripple of amusement crossing his face. ]
You really like to keep your hands full, huh.
[ you like a certain kind of person, clearly. it's self-deprecating, here, because he is an asshole and a problem also but he knows how much jiaoqiu likes to fuss, and that sort of clicks into place with the context, too.]
Manage to wriggle out of trouble?
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but he did, when feixiao wandered into his life. and he did, when therion followed some time after. jiaoqiu pauses again, playing with the end of therion's scarf - gradient, soft, clean, warm - not bloodstained. saved, because it didn't belong to anybody but therion. he strokes his fingers over it. curls a little closer, seeking warmth. ]
I suppose I do. [ he acquiesces, finally. but there's amusement to it. he doesn't mind. therion knows by now that jiaoqiu enjoys looking after him, and looks for any way to do it. ]
Part of my job was to soothe diplomatic disputes. So yes, I did in fact manage to wriggle her out of trouble. General Jing Yuan is a good man. I would not call us friends, necessarily, but we had a healthy respect for one another, and he knew how my General was. She was like the wind. Often just out of my grasp.
[ a beat, and then he shifts and turns his face to hide it against therion's neck, against the scarf, breathing it in. okay. that - he thinks that's enough, for now. it's starting to ache. ]
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[ therion mutters, but there's something there that just resonates: often, just out of my grasp.
being a handful is not where the similarities end, apparently. for a moment, therion feels something guilty curl up in the hinges of his ribcage. transience has been always been of life for therion, so many times that he's done just that, slipped away from jiaoqiu and vanished, less the wind and more the shadows. it brings to mind the talking to primrose gave him when he came to, about the void of nothingness he's seen jiaoqiu drop into a thousand times, that he dropped into again. about anchors. about all sorts of things.
but.
but things are - they're not perfect, and they never will be. but maybe they're getting better. maybe he's learned how to trust in a way that is steadfast now, metal instead of glass, brittle but much stronger than it ever was before. he wandered into jiaoqiu's life, and now he leaves his scarf here, so that he might come back another day.
when he turns against him, it shakes therion out of that train of his thoughts, and after a brief moment of hesitation, he shifts, pulling his arm out to hook it around jiaoqiu, curling it around his waist, fingers settling in the fabric of his shirt and holding there. a tiny little lifeline.
silence passes for a moment. one, two. ]
... What would you want to cook?
[ a nonsequitir again, or - maybe not. ]
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therion wraps an arm around him, and it's that kite string. it makes him sigh out slow, and relax a tiny bit. he's here. he feels safe, this way. grounded. therion's gotten so much better at this since they got back. ]
... Hm. [ he says, after a moment, sliding his arms around therion's waist. he keeps his face buried, warming himself up against therion's side. ] I suppose it'd be for Moze more than it'd be for the General. So... perhaps something with tuskpir. A rice bowl. He had a very simple palette.
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there's a soft huff of a noise as he takes that to mind. tuskpir. right. you can get that in the markets. ]
You like people like that, too. [ a little dry, there - it's not like he ate anything fancy until jiaoqiu came along. the fact that he even eats meals nowadays is kind of a miracle, but it's just side commentary in the end. there's something tentative here, the chance for jiaoqiu to carry on, if he wants to. he knows he can be just as fragile as he can be strong. ] Makes the spice a torture tactic.
[ and a little joke to soften it, too. ]
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he even laughs a little, when it comes to the joke, soft. and... for a moment, he's just quiet, soaking in the way they fit. he's always unsure how much he wants to say, with this. the only time you cant get him to shut up. ]
Moze said that, too. He could use the spice as a weapon to deter our enemies, he said. [ ... ] He complained far less than you.
[ that's teasing, very clearly so. but there's a sadness there, too. a pain he really hasn't ever dealt with. ]
But on the other side, you tell me when something is wrong, mostly. So I suppose I can take that much.
[ a beat. ] ... You are not a replacement for them. You share similarities, but I care for you as you. I hope you know that.
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the sense of privacy, of course, and the fact that he'd have to be an idiot not to see how badly these losses hurt jiaoqiu. from wet gravestones to the tentatively approached mentions, therion's not really in the business of hurting him on purpose (despite how it must have seemed, sometimes) and so he's never asked. this part of his past is still much of a mystery, unrelatable for someone who has never had people to lose. so, he doesn't know much, of this general, of this moze, and he accepts what he's told and holds it, and doesn't ask for more.
he listens to the words tentatively offered, and lets jiaoqiu decide how close he wants to step to them - and as he continues on, therion snorts. ]
As if I'd be any kind of replacement. [ very, very dryly: ] You see my bounty on that wanted poster?
[ except it was too low in his (not) humble opinion, but it's light to match the heaviness, his fingers curl a little tighter against jiaoqiu's side, quietly bolstering the lighter side of his teasing, a mismatch to the words that come out of his mouth. ]
Past is the past, present's the present. [ and that's that. ]
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[ he teases back, gentle. he would never even dream of doing it, especially when therion curls his fingers at his side a little more. he's okay. he can joke, he can play around with this much. maybe he can try a little harder. a little more. he can take a couple steps into the void and pull out the things he stored there, if therion is willing to listen. it seems like he is. it means that maybe they can both open up, bit by bit.
past is past, present is present. he wishes that were true for him. he can work towards it.
after a moment, he leans up to press a kiss to therion's cheek. ]
Well, then. For the present, let's figure out what we'll be having for dinner, hm?
[ and tomorrow they can head out together. he'll look for a hotel - maybe the same one they stayed at before, even - and they can figure out what to do. how long to stay, what therion can do while jiaoqiu is occupied... he absently thinks about a backup plan, but that shouldn't be necessary. he's going to be okay. probably. ]
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it's a little nice to be able to feel that way, if only because - it's only very, very recently that therion felt safe enough to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. a betrayal like that would be a breaking point, and would be what he expected of jiaoqiu, of anyone who got close to him a year and a half or so ago. he's still wary and cautious, still deeply distrustful of anyone and everyone, but its the slow progress of change that has cemented jiaoqiu as someone trustworthy, and that's worth its weight in more gold than any bounty, joking or otherwise.
the kiss to his cheek has him briefly shut his eye, and there's a huff. ]
Sure. [ ... ] You gonna have a heart attack if I go out for a bit?
[ considering the fussing and all, but - asking, even in his rough way, is a consideration and recognition of jiaoqiu's worry, or at least the place where it comes from. ]
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Maybe. [ he says, in that lighter tone. ] Go on. If you start to feel unwell, please send me a message.
[ don't be stubborn, is the unsaid part, but he doesn't scold or lecture, just pulls away so he can slide off the bed to go putter around in the kitchen. therion will see him clutching his phone in his hand as he does. the trust goes both ways, but he's a worrier by nature, even if he's very good at hiding it. ]
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