[ 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.
[ he's fully expecting the tail - in fact, that it takes as long as it does is the only part of it that's surprising - and the subtle, gentle form of affection is one he's finally gotten fully comfortable with. he doesn't stiffen up in surprise or duck away, and in fact just leans into the gesture a little, adjusting his stance and letting jiaoqiu close, paying attention to the way that he seems to relax.
observation leads to subtle affection, leads to the subtle, consistent attempts to provide care in return. whether he'll admit to it or not, he's trying to look after jiaoqiu, and has been for a long, long time - clumsily, awkwardly, but nevertheless.
he turns the dough between his fingers - slow at first, as to not break it or tear it, but it takes him a single dumpling to get the hang of the repetitive motion. closed seams, crimped edges, delicate and easy. light touch. it is kind of calming, the repetitive motion, and as he settles in he grunts in acknowledgement to this being their dinner, and...
... apple turnovers, huh. there's that flutter again, that good-bad-squirmy feeling - he has to turn his face away, bangs hiding his expression. ]
Stress cooking again, huh. [ clearly, he's pleased by this - touched, a little flustered, so he has to say something shitty to cover it. there's something unendingly new about someone caring about someone like therion enough to pay attention to the things he likes and get them just because. ]
[ tonight especially he's seeing that care. just like it's taken time for therion to get used to affection, it's taken jiaoqiu time to learn what therion's fussing looks like, the subtleties in how he acts. what is genuine anger, what comments are shitty because he's embarrassed, which gestures are emotional handholds. recognizing them means he bends a little further, opens up and lets therion in, because he can see the effort and - well, even though he doesn't always believe he deserves it, he likes it. therion leans in, and jiaoqiu lets out a soft, steadying sigh of content.
smiles, too, when therion gets flustered. his ear flicks. ]
Something like that. [ teasing, a little, as he sets a dumpling down. he really, really likes that therion is pleased. a pulse of emotion he's come to recognize more regularly as love eases warm in his chest, and he has to stop his tail from wagging, because it's settled so nicely around him. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
observation leads to subtle affection, leads to the subtle, consistent attempts to provide care in return. whether he'll admit to it or not, he's trying to look after jiaoqiu, and has been for a long, long time - clumsily, awkwardly, but nevertheless.
he turns the dough between his fingers - slow at first, as to not break it or tear it, but it takes him a single dumpling to get the hang of the repetitive motion. closed seams, crimped edges, delicate and easy. light touch. it is kind of calming, the repetitive motion, and as he settles in he grunts in acknowledgement to this being their dinner, and...
... apple turnovers, huh. there's that flutter again, that good-bad-squirmy feeling - he has to turn his face away, bangs hiding his expression. ]
Stress cooking again, huh. [ clearly, he's pleased by this - touched, a little flustered, so he has to say something shitty to cover it. there's something unendingly new about someone caring about someone like therion enough to pay attention to the things he likes and get them just because. ]
no subject
smiles, too, when therion gets flustered. his ear flicks. ]
Something like that. [ teasing, a little, as he sets a dumpling down. he really, really likes that therion is pleased. a pulse of emotion he's come to recognize more regularly as love eases warm in his chest, and he has to stop his tail from wagging, because it's settled so nicely around him. ]
Advance payment, more like.