[ 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. ]
he regards jiaoqiu for a moment, recognizes that kind but pointed reminder for exactly what it is - considering his less than graceful swoon a week or so ago from his well hidden (at least he thought) fever - and then sighs as if he is So Put Upon, easily loosing his arm free to let jiaoqiu move and going to get dressed.
there's a beat as he heads out to the door - he looks backwards at jiaoqiu, over his shoulder. makes eye contact, and then reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone to give it a bit of a wiggle in eyesight before it disappears again, and he's out the door. consideration. conscientiousness. he bought the damn thing for jiaoqiu anyway, it's not like he uses it otherwise. (except for cordelia. and primrose. and - okay, maybe he uses it, but he's not going to admit that to anyone because god forbid they know he cares about them.)
but with that, out into sunshade is. it feels good to stretch his legs, to get back out in the city and settle into the hubbub and noise. he's more or less back at his version of strength, keenly aware of his injuries that remain and how to work around them, and it feels good to flex his fingers and skills, to absently pickpocket a couple of rich tourists just because he can.
no text comes, but therion's not gone for long. thirty minutes, maybe forty, and he doesn't bother clambering through the tavern room window, just taking the front door and opening it soundlessly, slipping inside like a phantom. even with his left arm full of packages, he spots jiaoqiu in the kitchen, and - feeling confident, frankly, from his jaunt around town - starts to take silent, slow steps towards jiaoqiu.
this is one of his favorite games - testing his thief's agility against a foxian's hearing and smell - and he creeps up without making a single sound. slowly reaches out with his right hand...
[ his tail flicks back and forth when therion makes eye contact - okay, okay. he gets it, he's just being a worrywart. it doesn't exactly ease his nerves or anything, but he relaxes at least a little knowing that therion has his phone. he figures that his stupid stubborn thief won't use it out of instinct anyway, but at least he has it.
while therion is out, jiaoqiu books a hotel. there's a weird feeling that he gets when he does it - something sad and melancholic, because he used to live in that city. it isn't that he really even misses it that much, because he doesn't. this place was just where he ended up, it didn't have any particular hold on him other than the fact that it's where the graves were. but he did live there for years and years, and he got into trouble, and he nearly died, and... well, it's just strange to think that he doesn't remember a whole lot of it. most of the time he spent living there, in that apartment, was a blur. he can barely remember the fifteen, twenty years he spent rotting in that city, and it unnerves him sometimes to think about.
but he books that hotel. he packs, halfheartedly. and he goes to make dinner.
he doesn't hear therion because he's lost in thought, concentrating on kneading dough and sort of... drifting. voiding out just a little, thinking of what tomorrow might bring. half the time, therion wins these contests because jiaoqiu's senses are borked, but right now, he's cooking, which means his sense of smell is active. he catches therion's scent at the last second, his ears standing straight up as he does, and looks over his shoulder just in time to get his tail pulled.
therion will be pleased, he's sure, to see jiaoqiu startle and let out a little yelp, nearly dropping the dough in his hands. he doesn't! he catches it. but it's a close thing, and his expression gets so huffy. ]
You -- ! Are you incapable of a hello, I'm home like a normal person? [ huff!!! there's zero heat to this, though. his scolding usually comes off as fussy. with a grumble, he puts the dough down, and then, insistently despite the grouch, moves forward to press a kiss to therion's lips. hello, welcome home. ]
even if he saw the voiding, jiaoqiu's immediate lively reaction would've covered it - therion's expression is immediately pleased, a bratty, smug grin drawing up his face. just to bring it home, he drawls in his usual, utterly sarcastic, utterly insincere, utterly dry: ] Honey, I'm home.
[ and then releases his tail, sneaky hand fluttering free as he sets the package down on the counter. there are a couple of things in a paper bag - ingredients, some vegetables they were running low on, a fresh, crisp red apple on the top that therion takes from the bag as he's turning away, and at the bottom, wrapped in butcher paper, cuts of tuskpir meat.
he doesn't say anything about it and vacates before jiaoqiu gets to the bottom of the bag - hopping up on the counter across to watch him cook, palming the apple in one hand and taking a bite. the whole fluid motion is practiced and easy, and... tugs a little at his stitches, but not in a way he's not used to.
content to sit here and be a menace, he takes another bite of his snack. ]
but he doesn't even bother trying to get therion to let go of his tail at any point, so y'know. he's clearly not that bothered. he digs into the package after therion scoots away with his apple, curious. and he finds - the vegetables, and more importantly... ]
... Hah. [ he says, soft, ear twitching and laying down to the side. there's a little smile on his face, as he examines the cuts. this is such a therion move - bullying, being flippant, but listening. bringing him the things he mentioned without fanfare, without expectation. his tail swishes back and forth gently, and then: ]
Did you know there's a breed of tuskpir that eats nightmares? [ he says, idly, setting the meat down. ] It's said that hugging one while you sleep relieves depression and anxiety, and improves sleep quality.
[ well, he knew jiaoqiu would find it, but he's never quite sure if he's going to address it or not, so. filling his mouth with apple seems like a good way to pass the moment of anxiety beforehand, though it's not as much anxiety these days - only in the way that positive, heavy emotions make him anxious sometimes, in the way that he still gets embarrassed and huffy in the face of the gentle.
talking about feelings will always give him hives, but it's better than it used to be. he looks down at jiaoqiu's tail while he's still turned around, looks up. just in time to lock eyes with him when he smiles. that expression makes his heart jump, even now, and he stares for a second, then scoffs, turning his face away to rip another bite out of his apple. his red ear is visible under his unruly fringe. ]
Whatever. [ you're welcome. or maybe, you asked. even if he didn't, in so many words.
anyway time to be prickly to avert self from having too many Feelings tm. ] Y'know that sounds like a sales pitch, right? Did some merchant tell you that...?
[ he's so amused by the whatever, it's funny. and on top of that, watching therion blush and get fidgety makes his chest feel warm, so. he scoots over to the counter to wedge himself between therion's legs, resting his hands on his thighs and leaning up like he's going to kiss therion again... and instead taking a bite out of his apple, like a brat, gold eyes glittering with amusement and mischief. ]
In fact, Lingsha told me so. She keeps one or two as pets, along with her rabbit. She offered to lend one to me a few times.
[ he'd refused, because it felt like admitting he had a weakness. but he leaves that unsaid, tail still swishing back and forth. ]
In any case. The meat itself is invigorating. It quenches thirst, and gives you a sensation of warmth when eaten. [ a beat, and he slides away from therion to go back to his dough, making sure his expression isn't visible. ]
Moze liked it because he thought this meant he didn't need to eat more than once a day. Silly crow.
actually this is his own fault for falling for it but unfortunately, sometimes he is stupid. well, that and for all of his street smarts, jiaoqiu is more clever than him by half - one of them was a professional strategist, after all - and he's been affectionate today, so. he even makes the tiny mistake of leaning forward as if he's expecting the kiss, having already made the space for jiaoqiu to wriggle in close.
when it doesn't come, his nose wrinkles up and he scowls - it looks more like a pout, honestly - and he picks a piece of the apple off to flick it at his face. harmless.
and besides, the tailwagging is a marked improvement from earlier, so it's hard to be actually mad, especially with the offhand she offered to lend me one, a phrase of implications that he catches onto, one that resonates further with the impending trip of tomorrow at hand.
that said and done, he pulls a leg up to settle further onto the counter when jiaoqiu trots away, watching his back. ]
I'd believe the food more than I would the rest. [ the idea that cuddling something can heal your dreams or whatever?? no way that's bullshit. but jiaoqiu's food and its medicinal qualties are not completely unknown to him, so even his cynical ass can handle that part. though: ] You'd think people'd be too softhearted to eat it.
[ couldn't be therion, though. and, as he continues, therion listens - he's paying attention, close attention to his body language even if he can't see his face, because there's the name again. jiaoqiu treading closer and closer to those dangerous waters. he takes a bite of his apple, chewing it thoughtfully as he considers what he wants to say in response. let it continue? maybe. maybe something that'll keep him reactive. maybe a little bit of both. agitating jiaoqiu like a pot of noodles, to keep them all from sticking to the bottom of the pot.
so: ]
...You don't need to eat more than once a day if you're smart about it. [ from the bare bit he knows about moze, it's... well. maybe he would've liked the guy. he won't say that, though - he'll just wait for a reaction. ]
[ noooo, the pout!! jiaoqiu is pleased by this, grinning to himself. revenge, for the tail pulling. he'll make it up to him later - even if therion grouches and grumbles about it, he knows that he doesn't hate when jiaoqiu is affectionate with him. if he did, he wouldn't allow it. with what tomorrow is going to bring, he might be a touch more clingy, tonight. like saving up strength, hoarding heat and warmth because you know a blizzard is coming.
he glances over his shoulder at therion, even as he's kneading. a former strategist he may be, but he's not always aware of when therion is on-purpose trying to provoke him into reacting, so he plays into it nicely. his ear flicks, even though his tail has stopped swaying. ]
Hmph. You would say that. [ there's no heat to this - it's straying a little close to something flat, but there's effort, here. he's trying. ]
You should have three meals a day, or multiple small snacks throughout. Your body needs food to move! Fuel to power the muscles, like the gyrehearts of an ingenium. Why else do you think I'm on you constantly, hm?
[ a beat, and then: ] I'd prefer you and everybody that I meet never go hungry, so long as I'm around. Even if it does mean I must make a meal out of something as cute as a tuskpir.
[ aaand there he goes, therion thinks to himself - amused, a little fonder than he realizes. the ear flick is a good sign in jiaoqiu body language, and if he's a little melancholy as opposed to being gone into nothingness, then that's a step in the right direction.
that, and, well. i'd prefer you and everybody that i meet never goes hungry strikes a little bit of a chord, in the heart of a thief that never knew where his next meal came from, though he'd never admit it. his expression softens a little, and if he looks back, he might just see a there and gone again smile flicker across his face. ]
I think you're on me because you like being a nag. [ he says - snarky as ever, but he pushes himself up off the counter and pads over to the sink, pushing his hoodie sleeves up and going to wash his hands. he'll help out with the prep work. since he got hurt, it's been something to keep his dextrous fingers working, anyway, and besides that, he can pick up on jiaoqiu's creep closer to flatline.
he dries off his hands and makes his way over, close enough, companionable. getting closer to him sometimes helps to stave away the chill. ]
Cute doesn't make it any less edible. What do you need?
[ blink and you miss it, but therion calls him a nag and jiaoqiu sticks his tongue out at him. just briefly, just long enough to think he didn't do it. and then he goes back to his work.
but - therion hops off the counter and washes his hands. offers to help, which makes jiaoqiu warm, even without the closeness. he re-focuses, lets his mind come back. thinks ahead, instead of letting himself go down into autopilot. stay awake. therion wants you here, and that is enough of a foothold.
this time he does lean over to kiss therion, for real. soft, and lingering. and then he pulls back, and gestures to the small balls of dough he's been making. they're rolled out flat. dumpling wrappers, essentially. ]
You can fill those, if you'd like. The filling is in the refrigerator.
[ that sounds nice. it sounds grounding, making food in tandem, therion close to him, enough to catch his heartbeat, sometimes, if he listens hard. he has to resist the urge to push therion down somewhere so that he can crawl onto him and listen to his heartbeat, enough that his fingers twitch where he's separating the dough. he's here. he's alive. ]
[ when jiaoqiu leans, he's expecting it this time - despite having his trust playfully tested, the actual trust that has been built remains, and so he subtly tips his chin up enough to meet him there. it's the kind of soft gesture he never quite gets used to, that gives him butterflies that he reflexively swats down, and when he pulls back there's a faint dusting of red just across therion's nose, barely enough to be seen over his darker skin.
he seems a little less floaty, when therion glances him over after, green eye darting to his ears and back down before he shrugs a shoulder and turns on his heel to do just that. sometimes it strikes him strange, standing in front of this nice refrigerator, that he's in a house. like a stray cat that's been domesticated, not collared but still having a warm place to curl up at night. he stares at the inside of the fridge for a second, still mildly aching head spinning for a second with an overwhelming amount of thoughts before he grabs the filling and pushes the door shut, effectively closing the door on all of that, too.
deep frying, huh. therion makes an 'ohh' noise, a little snarky, banter for banter's sake ] Bad for the arteries, doc.
[ he does not care about his arteries
anyway. he sets the bowl down and pushes his sleeves back up properly again, grabbing a spoon to get to working on filling the little wrappers - watching jiaoqiu do it, first. observant as ever. ]
's whatever. [ he'll really eat anything as jiaoqiu has likely learned, at this point. for better or for worse. ] What's in it?
[ he'll model it for therion - he doesn't go over the top or anything, just grabs some of the filling and then uses water to close the seams of the dumplings with his fingertips. it seems like second nature for him, something he does with enough repetition that he barely has to think about it. and when therion settles, jiaoqiu curls a little closer. not obnoxiously, but close enough that he could rest his head on therion's shoulder if he really wanted to. this is extremely calming for him, and therion will probably be able to tell. the combination of having him near and doing something that he enjoys eases the buzzing anxiety in his head and heart. ]
Minced pork, diced shrimp, scallions, ginger, soy sauce... [ he lists, tilting his head. ] Various seasonings. Spice.
[ his tail eases down to curl around therion loosely, unable to stop himself from being affectionate, tonight. he needs it, and he's willing to be a little selfish the day before he faces something that's hurt him so badly in the past. ]
These are for us and our clogged arteries, for tonight. [ he jokes, voice soft. ] I'll make the offerings later.
[ a beat, and then: ] There are apple turnovers in the refrigerator as well, for you.
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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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[ sassy.
he regards jiaoqiu for a moment, recognizes that kind but pointed reminder for exactly what it is - considering his less than graceful swoon a week or so ago from his well hidden (at least he thought) fever - and then sighs as if he is So Put Upon, easily loosing his arm free to let jiaoqiu move and going to get dressed.
there's a beat as he heads out to the door - he looks backwards at jiaoqiu, over his shoulder. makes eye contact, and then reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone to give it a bit of a wiggle in eyesight before it disappears again, and he's out the door. consideration. conscientiousness. he bought the damn thing for jiaoqiu anyway, it's not like he uses it otherwise. (except for cordelia. and primrose. and - okay, maybe he uses it, but he's not going to admit that to anyone because god forbid they know he cares about them.)
but with that, out into sunshade is. it feels good to stretch his legs, to get back out in the city and settle into the hubbub and noise. he's more or less back at his version of strength, keenly aware of his injuries that remain and how to work around them, and it feels good to flex his fingers and skills, to absently pickpocket a couple of rich tourists just because he can.
no text comes, but therion's not gone for long. thirty minutes, maybe forty, and he doesn't bother clambering through the tavern room window, just taking the front door and opening it soundlessly, slipping inside like a phantom. even with his left arm full of packages, he spots jiaoqiu in the kitchen, and - feeling confident, frankly, from his jaunt around town - starts to take silent, slow steps towards jiaoqiu.
this is one of his favorite games - testing his thief's agility against a foxian's hearing and smell - and he creeps up without making a single sound. slowly reaches out with his right hand...
and then tugs on his tail. ]
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while therion is out, jiaoqiu books a hotel. there's a weird feeling that he gets when he does it - something sad and melancholic, because he used to live in that city. it isn't that he really even misses it that much, because he doesn't. this place was just where he ended up, it didn't have any particular hold on him other than the fact that it's where the graves were. but he did live there for years and years, and he got into trouble, and he nearly died, and... well, it's just strange to think that he doesn't remember a whole lot of it. most of the time he spent living there, in that apartment, was a blur. he can barely remember the fifteen, twenty years he spent rotting in that city, and it unnerves him sometimes to think about.
but he books that hotel. he packs, halfheartedly. and he goes to make dinner.
he doesn't hear therion because he's lost in thought, concentrating on kneading dough and sort of... drifting. voiding out just a little, thinking of what tomorrow might bring. half the time, therion wins these contests because jiaoqiu's senses are borked, but right now, he's cooking, which means his sense of smell is active. he catches therion's scent at the last second, his ears standing straight up as he does, and looks over his shoulder just in time to get his tail pulled.
therion will be pleased, he's sure, to see jiaoqiu startle and let out a little yelp, nearly dropping the dough in his hands. he doesn't! he catches it. but it's a close thing, and his expression gets so huffy. ]
You -- ! Are you incapable of a hello, I'm home like a normal person? [ huff!!! there's zero heat to this, though. his scolding usually comes off as fussy. with a grumble, he puts the dough down, and then, insistently despite the grouch, moves forward to press a kiss to therion's lips. hello, welcome home. ]
... I see you found things.
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even if he saw the voiding, jiaoqiu's immediate lively reaction would've covered it - therion's expression is immediately pleased, a bratty, smug grin drawing up his face. just to bring it home, he drawls in his usual, utterly sarcastic, utterly insincere, utterly dry: ] Honey, I'm home.
[ and then releases his tail, sneaky hand fluttering free as he sets the package down on the counter. there are a couple of things in a paper bag - ingredients, some vegetables they were running low on, a fresh, crisp red apple on the top that therion takes from the bag as he's turning away, and at the bottom, wrapped in butcher paper, cuts of tuskpir meat.
he doesn't say anything about it and vacates before jiaoqiu gets to the bottom of the bag - hopping up on the counter across to watch him cook, palming the apple in one hand and taking a bite. the whole fluid motion is practiced and easy, and... tugs a little at his stitches, but not in a way he's not used to.
content to sit here and be a menace, he takes another bite of his snack. ]
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but he doesn't even bother trying to get therion to let go of his tail at any point, so y'know. he's clearly not that bothered. he digs into the package after therion scoots away with his apple, curious. and he finds - the vegetables, and more importantly... ]
... Hah. [ he says, soft, ear twitching and laying down to the side. there's a little smile on his face, as he examines the cuts. this is such a therion move - bullying, being flippant, but listening. bringing him the things he mentioned without fanfare, without expectation. his tail swishes back and forth gently, and then: ]
Did you know there's a breed of tuskpir that eats nightmares? [ he says, idly, setting the meat down. ] It's said that hugging one while you sleep relieves depression and anxiety, and improves sleep quality.
[ he glances over at therion with that smile. ]
Thank you, Therion.
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talking about feelings will always give him hives, but it's better than it used to be. he looks down at jiaoqiu's tail while he's still turned around, looks up. just in time to lock eyes with him when he smiles. that expression makes his heart jump, even now, and he stares for a second, then scoffs, turning his face away to rip another bite out of his apple. his red ear is visible under his unruly fringe. ]
Whatever. [ you're welcome. or maybe, you asked. even if he didn't, in so many words.
anyway time to be prickly to avert self from having too many Feelings tm. ] Y'know that sounds like a sales pitch, right? Did some merchant tell you that...?
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In fact, Lingsha told me so. She keeps one or two as pets, along with her rabbit. She offered to lend one to me a few times.
[ he'd refused, because it felt like admitting he had a weakness. but he leaves that unsaid, tail still swishing back and forth. ]
In any case. The meat itself is invigorating. It quenches thirst, and gives you a sensation of warmth when eaten. [ a beat, and he slides away from therion to go back to his dough, making sure his expression isn't visible. ]
Moze liked it because he thought this meant he didn't need to eat more than once a day. Silly crow.
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actually this is his own fault for falling for it but unfortunately, sometimes he is stupid. well, that and for all of his street smarts, jiaoqiu is more clever than him by half - one of them was a professional strategist, after all - and he's been affectionate today, so. he even makes the tiny mistake of leaning forward as if he's expecting the kiss, having already made the space for jiaoqiu to wriggle in close.
when it doesn't come, his nose wrinkles up and he scowls - it looks more like a pout, honestly - and he picks a piece of the apple off to flick it at his face. harmless.
and besides, the tailwagging is a marked improvement from earlier, so it's hard to be actually mad, especially with the offhand she offered to lend me one, a phrase of implications that he catches onto, one that resonates further with the impending trip of tomorrow at hand.
that said and done, he pulls a leg up to settle further onto the counter when jiaoqiu trots away, watching his back. ]
I'd believe the food more than I would the rest. [ the idea that cuddling something can heal your dreams or whatever?? no way that's bullshit. but jiaoqiu's food and its medicinal qualties are not completely unknown to him, so even his cynical ass can handle that part. though: ] You'd think people'd be too softhearted to eat it.
[ couldn't be therion, though. and, as he continues, therion listens - he's paying attention, close attention to his body language even if he can't see his face, because there's the name again. jiaoqiu treading closer and closer to those dangerous waters. he takes a bite of his apple, chewing it thoughtfully as he considers what he wants to say in response. let it continue? maybe. maybe something that'll keep him reactive. maybe a little bit of both. agitating jiaoqiu like a pot of noodles, to keep them all from sticking to the bottom of the pot.
so: ]
...You don't need to eat more than once a day if you're smart about it. [ from the bare bit he knows about moze, it's... well. maybe he would've liked the guy. he won't say that, though - he'll just wait for a reaction. ]
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he glances over his shoulder at therion, even as he's kneading. a former strategist he may be, but he's not always aware of when therion is on-purpose trying to provoke him into reacting, so he plays into it nicely. his ear flicks, even though his tail has stopped swaying. ]
Hmph. You would say that. [ there's no heat to this - it's straying a little close to something flat, but there's effort, here. he's trying. ]
You should have three meals a day, or multiple small snacks throughout. Your body needs food to move! Fuel to power the muscles, like the gyrehearts of an ingenium. Why else do you think I'm on you constantly, hm?
[ a beat, and then: ] I'd prefer you and everybody that I meet never go hungry, so long as I'm around. Even if it does mean I must make a meal out of something as cute as a tuskpir.
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that, and, well. i'd prefer you and everybody that i meet never goes hungry strikes a little bit of a chord, in the heart of a thief that never knew where his next meal came from, though he'd never admit it. his expression softens a little, and if he looks back, he might just see a there and gone again smile flicker across his face. ]
I think you're on me because you like being a nag. [ he says - snarky as ever, but he pushes himself up off the counter and pads over to the sink, pushing his hoodie sleeves up and going to wash his hands. he'll help out with the prep work. since he got hurt, it's been something to keep his dextrous fingers working, anyway, and besides that, he can pick up on jiaoqiu's creep closer to flatline.
he dries off his hands and makes his way over, close enough, companionable. getting closer to him sometimes helps to stave away the chill. ]
Cute doesn't make it any less edible. What do you need?
[ put him to work. ]
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but - therion hops off the counter and washes his hands. offers to help, which makes jiaoqiu warm, even without the closeness. he re-focuses, lets his mind come back. thinks ahead, instead of letting himself go down into autopilot. stay awake. therion wants you here, and that is enough of a foothold.
this time he does lean over to kiss therion, for real. soft, and lingering. and then he pulls back, and gestures to the small balls of dough he's been making. they're rolled out flat. dumpling wrappers, essentially. ]
You can fill those, if you'd like. The filling is in the refrigerator.
[ that sounds nice. it sounds grounding, making food in tandem, therion close to him, enough to catch his heartbeat, sometimes, if he listens hard. he has to resist the urge to push therion down somewhere so that he can crawl onto him and listen to his heartbeat, enough that his fingers twitch where he's separating the dough. he's here. he's alive. ]
We can deep fry them, if you'd like.
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he seems a little less floaty, when therion glances him over after, green eye darting to his ears and back down before he shrugs a shoulder and turns on his heel to do just that. sometimes it strikes him strange, standing in front of this nice refrigerator, that he's in a house. like a stray cat that's been domesticated, not collared but still having a warm place to curl up at night. he stares at the inside of the fridge for a second, still mildly aching head spinning for a second with an overwhelming amount of thoughts before he grabs the filling and pushes the door shut, effectively closing the door on all of that, too.
deep frying, huh. therion makes an 'ohh' noise, a little snarky, banter for banter's sake ] Bad for the arteries, doc.
[ he does not care about his arteries
anyway. he sets the bowl down and pushes his sleeves back up properly again, grabbing a spoon to get to working on filling the little wrappers - watching jiaoqiu do it, first. observant as ever. ]
's whatever. [ he'll really eat anything as jiaoqiu has likely learned, at this point. for better or for worse. ] What's in it?
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Minced pork, diced shrimp, scallions, ginger, soy sauce... [ he lists, tilting his head. ] Various seasonings. Spice.
[ his tail eases down to curl around therion loosely, unable to stop himself from being affectionate, tonight. he needs it, and he's willing to be a little selfish the day before he faces something that's hurt him so badly in the past. ]
These are for us and our clogged arteries, for tonight. [ he jokes, voice soft. ] I'll make the offerings later.
[ a beat, and then: ] There are apple turnovers in the refrigerator as well, for you.
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