To your smile. [He starts, looking up from the glasses to catch Mattias' eyes.] To your company, and to what I can only hope is joy in moments like these together.
[He glances down, and it's almost sheepish himself how he continues. Just that small amount, under the confidence.] To friendship that through great effort I hope I can repair... And to you even allowing me near alcohol after such an incident.
[A weak attempt at a joke, but he smiles nonetheless, clinking their glasses together again and raising his to take a sip.]
[The toast is unexpected. His smile falters, fading to something that doesn't reach his eyes. He lifts the glass to his lips but doesn't drink, watching the small galaxies in the glass mix and merge in beautiful collisions of color.
He can't do it.
Sighing, he places the mug on the counter, threading his fingers together.]
Oren. [He says it gently but his tone is still serious.] You have to realize... however true your intentions are, I—after everything that's happened to me, I can't... [it hurts to say but it's true.] ... I can't believe them. Not without proof.
[Raising his head, he meets his gaze with a soft intensity.] If you wish to repair what we had, you must prove to me that you're genuine. That there's... [His gaze drifts away, his hands tighten.] ... That there's no more lies.
I need to know this isn't a game. That—[he takes a deep breath]—that I'm not a game to you.
[His lips part from the glass before he can even manage a full sip, and he sets his down as well. For a long moment, he can't look at Mattias. His words irritate him, but after all of the anger he'd gotten out in those voicemails, it feels sort of... empty.
What was he doing here? Nocta wasn't here. So was it a lie, or was he genuinely interested in his company?
He thinks he knows the answer now, as unusual as it feels. His fingers curl more around the glass, and he looks over to him seriously.]
Is there something that would help you to understand my thoughts more than my helping you now? [More than his calling him after being beat, after his repeated attempts despite Nocta not being here-- Was there something definite?]
Is there something I could do to put you at ease?
[This is the first time he's asked something for Mattias' sake like this. It's not exactly out of bounds for his manipulation, either, but it is different. Forward, honest sounding, and with a direct look.]
[Mattias hears it. It seeps into how he speaks, the way his eyes shine. He reeks of it and it's all Mattias can do to listen. Smiling, he looks down, picking up his glass once more.]
I don't know. [He raises his head and with it, his glass.] All I know is that words like that bring you closer to it.
[His grin turns lopsided, his glass clinks against Oren's own.] Cheers.
[So there was no surefire way. Hope could still be something out of reach for him. Lifting his drink that he's already taken a sip from, he tips it slightly into that clink, watching the swirl of colors for a moment before he lifts it higher.]
Cheers.
[It's not what he wanted to hear, but it's not what he didn't want to hear, either. And so for now, all he can do is remind himself that Mattias is here, beside him, instead of off in some unknown place with some unknown state of health.
This sip lasts a little longer, and when he sets the glass back down it's with a small sigh for the taste.]
[Finally, he sips the drink and the flavor washes through him. Fills his mouth with electricity and lightning and brews a storm. No, a hundred storms, working and weaving their eccentricities around each other. His smile widens, eyes alight with a fire only earned through unadulterated excitement.]
It tastes like the universe.
[His smile stays for a few long minutes before the pet interrupts, falling off the counter. Uttering a quick swear, Mattias puts the glass down and bends over the bar, trying to catch a glimpse of their pet. It's no use. Even with all the light, it's too dark.] I lost Vinlates. Oren, can you see him?
[The first moments are completely endearing. Like Mattias is framed, enjoying this new drink, letting the tastes take over. And suddenly, there's a thump, and loud buzzing, and it's ruined.
Oren can only smirk even as he places a hand to Mattias' back, ducking down himself.]
Vinlates? Orphlegian, is he? Why is that? I see you've decided he's male, as well...
[How?? Whatever. He can't see him, and so he gets up from his stool, actually dropping to his knees to feel around.]
I can't see a thing in this lighting, but if I listen, perhaps... [Oh, no, that's Mattias' foot. He gives it a squeeze with a laugh.]
Well, I'm not calling him an it. [He jumps at the squeeze, then mock-scowls, pushing at Oren's arm with his foot.] I'll look on the other side.
[Which means, yup, he's sliding over the counter and crouching down on all fours, feeling around for a vibrating butt plug. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, he calls out over the thumping bass.]
What else should I have called him? I heard no suggestions from you!
[Fruitless searching does extend a long time, but somehow, he hears Mattias over the noise and scoffs.]
You never asked! Okintik, Takreet, Polinth-- there are plenty!
[And on cue, it seems, his hand presses down over a vibrating form, and he half yelps out of surprise for crushing it. It seems to be fine, though, and he pulls back, shifting to hold it like they have been normally.]
Oh, Okintik! What a wonderfully—[He stands at Oren's news, hair disheveled but not unsalvageable. He smooths it back quickly, hopping the bar in between two grisly looking aliens.]—awful name.
[He plucks the creature from Oren's hand and raises it to his face, smiling.] Takreet's cute. Though I'm not certain it fits. Gentlemen—[He spins on his heel, holding Takreet/Vinlates out to the grisly guests he disturbed.]—does he seem like a Vinlates or a Takreet?
[Rude?? He stands himself, watching Mattias take the thing away and immediately start waving it around at other customers. They seem irritated at first, grumbling something in another language, but when they get a look at the animal(?), one of them smiles (he thinks) and the other looks a little more... devious about it.
It gets to a point where his grumbling in another language and gesturing seems a little odd (he was eyeballing him, Oren was sure of it), and Oren steps between them to place one hand on Mattias' shoulder, urging him back, and the other out to the air before the alien.]
Please, please, Vinlates is fine, but he seems to be in the mood for something else. I doubt he's the pleasant type.
[Ah. He looks angry now, and Oren just takes an apologetic step backwards, still urging Mattias back to his seat.]
"Something else"? Surely I didn't offend him enough to pick a fi—Oh no.
[The alien duo rises and, when standing, easily tower over eight feet. They're bulky beasts, lean in body but broad in the shoulder with hands that could easily wrap around half of Mattias' waist. And they do, one of them grabbing at Mattias' hips while the other shoves Oren aside, acting as a barrier while the other pulls Mattias close. Mattias stiffens as he grabs a handful, wriggling and pushing to pry away to no avail. Nervously, he calls over his shoulder as the alien leans in close.]
Oren! I—I believe I see what you meant. [He presses the alien's face away with the hell of his palms.] Ah. No, sir. Please listen. I think there's been a misunderstand—[He's cut off as he's lifted up and slung over the alien's shoulder. It's about then that he goes into mild panic.]—Oren?!
[ okay, so much for being peaceful. He stumbles from recovery of being pushed aside, watching the two carefully as he picks up two large bottles of booze from the table behind him. Mattias is lifted, and Oren is already moving forward, chucking the first bottle up to hit the one acting as barrier in the face.
It's a commotion now, loud even over the music, but he ducks and twists past the first to view the second. ]
You know, I'd have preferred to talk our way out of this. Yet you're both so stubborn-- watch yourself, Mattias!
[ it's the one warning he gives as he smashes the bottle as high up on this ones back as he can manage. No reaction-- but as he turns, he shoves the jagged remains from the spout into his stomach,, ducking at the swing of his free arm. ]
Stubborn giant! [ in one last movement, he snatches a lighter he spots nearby and sets them ablaze, shielding his face as they flail and swing at him. Overall, sloppy-- but it should serve a helpful distraction. ]
[It's honestly more violent than he expected. Not that he'll protest. Oren serves as a wonderful distraction for the aliens' anger; the one holding Mattias releases him without much thought, dropping him unceremoniously on the ground. It's moments like these that Mattias is glad he can't feel anything. The fall does nothing to stall his time and soon enough he's on his feet, dashing back to their seats to grab their bag before returning. They're pommeling Oren now but they're too close. Hitting blind due to the fire. The bar smells like burning flesh and it nearly makes him nostalgic but now's not the time. Squeezing between the beasts, he grabs Oren's hand and pulls him through the gap of their bodies, throwing a protective arm around him when he's at his side.]
Come. [He mutters as the aliens break another table in a blind rage. Guests shriek and a helpful amount flee. Mattias and Oren blend in with them perfectly.
Without any other harm they make it to the street where Mattias forces Oren down on a bench. Tossing the troublesome pet aside, he cups his face.] Let me see you.
[ he's bleeding from a few spots on his face from scratches made by glass-- his forehead, his cheek, a couple on his neck. His arms too are marked up, slight until his right hand where it's particularly bad. His own doing. Surprisingly, the burn marks are few in number.
With how large they were, it's a lucky escape. But Oren looks beyond angry, staring at Mattias for a good few seconds before he raises his hands to touch his. ]
We didn't finish our drinks. [ this is what's at the forefront of his mind after that. Mattias didn't get to have his whole glowing galaxy. He'd PLANNED for this damn it! ]
[Mattias gawks at him. With all the bruises, all the cuts, he must be in pain. There's surely enough here to merit a visit to a clinic, if not a hospital. And yet the first thing that come to his mind is—]
Drinks? [Mattias laughs in shock, stepping back a moment before kneeling in front of him.] Oren. [He's laughing still, a bit more genuine.] Drinks are temporary. Your face is permanent. We can pick something up on the way back to—[to where? His room? Was that where this was all leading? Was this all part of some master plan? Mattias' chest tightens at the thought, smile faltering. The clinics would all cost money. A fortune, based on the prices all around. They wouldn't be able to afford it. There was the med lab back on the ship but that would only cause questions. Felix would know. Judge. Cause a fuss along with everyone else. Any other ship just felt... wrong.
They didn't really have choice.
He swallows tightly, stretching his smile back over his own nervousness.]—back to my room.
[If there's any plan going through Oren's head, he does well not to show it. He's busy pulling his hands back to himself with a slight wince, trying to pinch out some of the smaller bits of glass that have wedged themselves into skin. It's plenty painful, but he looks up at the clear falter.
Was he hesitant to bring him back to his room?
That rings hurtful more than it should, and sets off anger about as much as he expects. But he doesn't let it show on his face, glancing back down to his hand instead.]
Those drinks can't be found just anywhere, you realize. The first taste is great, but it's not until the third that you're truly sold.
[He stands, glancing down at Mattias.] Don't look so worried. My face doesn't look so bad, does it? [He can't tell with the stinging, and he raises a hand to touch fingertips to it lightly. Quietly, he speaks a few more purposeful words.] I wouldn't wish to burden you.
[He sighs, pushing up off the ground and swatting at Oren's hands.]
Don't touch it. And—[He pauses. Takes a moment to wet his lips, glancing downwards.] And don't speak so foolishly. My room is nearby. I've got a medical kit there. It'll be cheaper than scouting a clinic. Come.
[Taking him by the elbow, he leads him on, escorting him through streets and alleys until finally he ends up at a humble building wedged between two neon signs. Goading him indoors, he'll lead him to the fourth floor by stair (elevators unnerved him) and down the hallway to the last room on the right. There's a single window inside, looking out over a couple of dumpsters and a broken fire escape. But at least there's no neon signs. Mattias seems to have made himself at home here, with everything tucked away save for a few scraps of parchment and a waiter's uniform hung and pressed on the closet door.
He guides Oren in and gestures to the single chair at the far end of the room before sliding into the bathroom and washing his hands.]
[An apartment like this hardly seems fitting for the Messiah, but Oren can't find himself too surprised by it, either. He was predictably shallow and needy in some ways, and amazingly humble in others, from what he could tell, and this fit right along with that.
He stays silent for the walk through the building, but his eyes do lock onto that uniform as they pass. Slowly, he turns to sit in the chair (it's hard and uncomfortable), holding out his arms to inspect himself for any additional glass bits as Mattias washes.]
Those men grew quite upset for no good reason. Distasteful... Who would care to spend an evening with them? [NOT HIM THAT'S FOR SURE. And not Mattias either, he decides for him.]
[There's a light laugh as Mattias walks out from the bathroom, still drying his hands with a towel.]
A night would have been generous. I believe they wanted me in a bathroom stall. [He laughs again, this time in disbelief, pulling a med kit out of the closet and grabbing a plastic cup from a shelf. Shaking his head, he sits on the edge of the bed, opening the kit and taking out a pair of tweezers, a magnifying glass, rubbing alcohol and a cloth.]
You know, I think I'm starting to become attractive here? Rarely was I so popular back home. Here—[He lets out a low whistle, wiping down the tweezers with the alcohol. The magnifying glass he leaves to the side for now, taking Oren's hand and plucking out the most blatant offenders. They rattle against the plastic cup.]
I get attention at work, too. [He laughs, dropping another shard into the cup.] They seem to think a hefty tip will get me into their bed!
[The more Mattias goes on, the more Oren feels uncomfortable. First, to think of Mattias gaining so many interested faces while he struggled for it within the fleet was irritating. He got a handful of compliments or invitations at the bars around here, but the number was tiny compared to what he was used to.
And somehow, the idea of so many eyes pointed at Mattias was completely infuriating. No one cared, not until he'd taken him under his wing.
His expression could be mistaken for a wince, really (and half of the time, it parts into one), but he's actually just annoyed.]
It sounds like you're enjoying it. Was all of Renacht not enough for you?
[It's a light tease tainted with jealousy shown in the way he smiles; it's thin, a little forced, and he glances away as Mattias works at his hand.]
It's not as if they can be blamed, if you're wearing a uniform like that.
[He chuckles. Slight as it may be, Oren's jealousy is obvious to a man who's been by his side for three months.]
Oh, come off it. You're doing nothing but giving your god a meal. [It feels good to joke about it freely. There's nothing to hide anymore. One less weight for his shoulders.] It's as you said, it's the clothing doing all the work. Strip down a bit, let them see those tight pants of yours, and I'm certain you'd have offers every ten feet.
[Another piece of glass clatters.] You're far more attractive than me.
[His hand twitches a bit at the sting of it, but he bites back any vocal response from the attention. Instead, he chuckles low, shaking his head as he leans a little closer.]
I've a uniform myself, you know. I only just started yesterday.
[But he's well aware of what he can do with it. How to draw attention. It's not enough. He wants it with a lack of effort.] You should know that attraction isn't something that can be compared so easily. If you'd like to try, perhaps you should look at your own heart.
[He touches his own with his free hand, watching Mattias' eyes for a moment before he sits back and looks away. Again, fighting off thoughts, feeding his god, as he put it. (It's a relief to hear that joking for him, as well.)]
Oren. [He breathes out a laugh, stopping his ministrations for now and meeting his eyes. He wants to touch him, rest a hand against his cheek, but he fights it off.] Has your beating made you sentimental?
[He picks up the tweezers again, moving on to more delicate shards.] The only heart people see is what you let slip on that handsome face of yours. Attraction that deep takes time. It all starts with some shallow thing. Your face, your chest, your ass, your legs. Something has to draw them in. Rarely is it ever personality.
[These smaller shards take longer to get a grasp of. His pauses between words grows larger as he fishes for a hold.] Besides, my own heart's done me few favors. [He chuckles.] Ordinarily, it's what drives people away.
[He's wrong. About him being sentimental, about people not seeing heart first, about his own heart doing him few favors. What were all of these people falling for now, then? There were many ways to get someone to like you. Naturally, or with various formulas.
Little things mattered. Facing someone directly, leaning in when they spoke, keeping eye contact, touching them affectionately in small ways. Small gestures that meant things to the other party, like holding open doors, or bringing them coffee. It was second nature.
He knew how to do it, but there were barriers in his way. Perhaps that was what annoyed him. Here he was, stuck on Mattias, caring far too much about him despite all of the same things that would infuriate him continuing to appear. Bad news about his own goals back home had him worried, not sure if he held enough hope to continue on, but too desperate to turn it away.
His mind was a mess. He was breaking, and even he was recognizing it.
This long pause is spent just staring at Mattias working, expression flicking into brief winces that he wipes away quickly.]
Well, I am still here. [He looks upwards, trying to catch his eyes again. Another callback, this time to just earlier today.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 06:57 am (UTC)[He glances down, and it's almost sheepish himself how he continues. Just that small amount, under the confidence.] To friendship that through great effort I hope I can repair... And to you even allowing me near alcohol after such an incident.
[A weak attempt at a joke, but he smiles nonetheless, clinking their glasses together again and raising his to take a sip.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:05 am (UTC)He can't do it.
Sighing, he places the mug on the counter, threading his fingers together.]
Oren. [He says it gently but his tone is still serious.] You have to realize... however true your intentions are, I—after everything that's happened to me, I can't... [it hurts to say but it's true.] ... I can't believe them. Not without proof.
[Raising his head, he meets his gaze with a soft intensity.] If you wish to repair what we had, you must prove to me that you're genuine. That there's... [His gaze drifts away, his hands tighten.] ... That there's no more lies.
I need to know this isn't a game. That—[he takes a deep breath]—that I'm not a game to you.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:12 am (UTC)What was he doing here? Nocta wasn't here. So was it a lie, or was he genuinely interested in his company?
He thinks he knows the answer now, as unusual as it feels. His fingers curl more around the glass, and he looks over to him seriously.]
Is there something that would help you to understand my thoughts more than my helping you now? [More than his calling him after being beat, after his repeated attempts despite Nocta not being here-- Was there something definite?]
Is there something I could do to put you at ease?
[This is the first time he's asked something for Mattias' sake like this. It's not exactly out of bounds for his manipulation, either, but it is different. Forward, honest sounding, and with a direct look.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:18 am (UTC)I don't know. [He raises his head and with it, his glass.] All I know is that words like that bring you closer to it.
[His grin turns lopsided, his glass clinks against Oren's own.] Cheers.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:23 am (UTC)Cheers.
[It's not what he wanted to hear, but it's not what he didn't want to hear, either. And so for now, all he can do is remind himself that Mattias is here, beside him, instead of off in some unknown place with some unknown state of health.
This sip lasts a little longer, and when he sets the glass back down it's with a small sigh for the taste.]
How do you like the taste?
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:31 am (UTC)It tastes like the universe.
[His smile stays for a few long minutes before the pet interrupts, falling off the counter. Uttering a quick swear, Mattias puts the glass down and bends over the bar, trying to catch a glimpse of their pet. It's no use. Even with all the light, it's too dark.] I lost Vinlates. Oren, can you see him?
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:35 am (UTC)Oren can only smirk even as he places a hand to Mattias' back, ducking down himself.]
Vinlates? Orphlegian, is he? Why is that? I see you've decided he's male, as well...
[How?? Whatever. He can't see him, and so he gets up from his stool, actually dropping to his knees to feel around.]
I can't see a thing in this lighting, but if I listen, perhaps... [Oh, no, that's Mattias' foot. He gives it a squeeze with a laugh.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:39 am (UTC)[Which means, yup, he's sliding over the counter and crouching down on all fours, feeling around for a vibrating butt plug. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, he calls out over the thumping bass.]
What else should I have called him? I heard no suggestions from you!
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:44 am (UTC)You never asked! Okintik, Takreet, Polinth-- there are plenty!
[And on cue, it seems, his hand presses down over a vibrating form, and he half yelps out of surprise for crushing it. It seems to be fine, though, and he pulls back, shifting to hold it like they have been normally.]
I've found him!
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:50 am (UTC)[He plucks the creature from Oren's hand and raises it to his face, smiling.] Takreet's cute. Though I'm not certain it fits. Gentlemen—[He spins on his heel, holding Takreet/Vinlates out to the grisly guests he disturbed.]—does he seem like a Vinlates or a Takreet?
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 07:55 am (UTC)It gets to a point where his grumbling in another language and gesturing seems a little odd (he was eyeballing him, Oren was sure of it), and Oren steps between them to place one hand on Mattias' shoulder, urging him back, and the other out to the air before the alien.]
Please, please, Vinlates is fine, but he seems to be in the mood for something else. I doubt he's the pleasant type.
[Ah. He looks angry now, and Oren just takes an apologetic step backwards, still urging Mattias back to his seat.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 08:18 pm (UTC)[The alien duo rises and, when standing, easily tower over eight feet. They're bulky beasts, lean in body but broad in the shoulder with hands that could easily wrap around half of Mattias' waist. And they do, one of them grabbing at Mattias' hips while the other shoves Oren aside, acting as a barrier while the other pulls Mattias close. Mattias stiffens as he grabs a handful, wriggling and pushing to pry away to no avail. Nervously, he calls over his shoulder as the alien leans in close.]
Oren! I—I believe I see what you meant. [He presses the alien's face away with the hell of his palms.] Ah. No, sir. Please listen. I think there's been a misunderstand—[He's cut off as he's lifted up and slung over the alien's shoulder. It's about then that he goes into mild panic.]—Oren?!
I'm cracking up at this he's gonna get like beat up by burning aliens
Date: 2015-05-06 08:43 pm (UTC)It's a commotion now, loud even over the music, but he ducks and twists past the first to view the second. ]
You know, I'd have preferred to talk our way out of this. Yet you're both so stubborn-- watch yourself, Mattias!
[ it's the one warning he gives as he smashes the bottle as high up on this ones back as he can manage. No reaction-- but as he turns, he shoves the jagged remains from the spout into his stomach,, ducking at the swing of his free arm. ]
Stubborn giant! [ in one last movement, he snatches a lighter he spots nearby and sets them ablaze, shielding his face as they flail and swing at him. Overall, sloppy-- but it should serve a helpful distraction. ]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 08:52 pm (UTC)Come. [He mutters as the aliens break another table in a blind rage. Guests shriek and a helpful amount flee. Mattias and Oren blend in with them perfectly.
Without any other harm they make it to the street where Mattias forces Oren down on a bench. Tossing the troublesome pet aside, he cups his face.] Let me see you.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 09:04 pm (UTC)With how large they were, it's a lucky escape. But Oren looks beyond angry, staring at Mattias for a good few seconds before he raises his hands to touch his. ]
We didn't finish our drinks. [ this is what's at the forefront of his mind after that. Mattias didn't get to have his whole glowing galaxy. He'd PLANNED for this damn it! ]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 09:14 pm (UTC)Drinks? [Mattias laughs in shock, stepping back a moment before kneeling in front of him.] Oren. [He's laughing still, a bit more genuine.] Drinks are temporary. Your face is permanent. We can pick something up on the way back to—[to where? His room? Was that where this was all leading? Was this all part of some master plan? Mattias' chest tightens at the thought, smile faltering. The clinics would all cost money. A fortune, based on the prices all around. They wouldn't be able to afford it. There was the med lab back on the ship but that would only cause questions. Felix would know. Judge. Cause a fuss along with everyone else. Any other ship just felt... wrong.
They didn't really have choice.
He swallows tightly, stretching his smile back over his own nervousness.]—back to my room.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 02:47 am (UTC)Was he hesitant to bring him back to his room?
That rings hurtful more than it should, and sets off anger about as much as he expects. But he doesn't let it show on his face, glancing back down to his hand instead.]
Those drinks can't be found just anywhere, you realize. The first taste is great, but it's not until the third that you're truly sold.
[He stands, glancing down at Mattias.] Don't look so worried. My face doesn't look so bad, does it? [He can't tell with the stinging, and he raises a hand to touch fingertips to it lightly. Quietly, he speaks a few more purposeful words.] I wouldn't wish to burden you.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 03:18 am (UTC)Don't touch it. And—[He pauses. Takes a moment to wet his lips, glancing downwards.] And don't speak so foolishly. My room is nearby. I've got a medical kit there. It'll be cheaper than scouting a clinic. Come.
[Taking him by the elbow, he leads him on, escorting him through streets and alleys until finally he ends up at a humble building wedged between two neon signs. Goading him indoors, he'll lead him to the fourth floor by stair (elevators unnerved him) and down the hallway to the last room on the right. There's a single window inside, looking out over a couple of dumpsters and a broken fire escape. But at least there's no neon signs. Mattias seems to have made himself at home here, with everything tucked away save for a few scraps of parchment and a waiter's uniform hung and pressed on the closet door.
He guides Oren in and gestures to the single chair at the far end of the room before sliding into the bathroom and washing his hands.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 03:26 am (UTC)He stays silent for the walk through the building, but his eyes do lock onto that uniform as they pass. Slowly, he turns to sit in the chair (it's hard and uncomfortable), holding out his arms to inspect himself for any additional glass bits as Mattias washes.]
Those men grew quite upset for no good reason. Distasteful... Who would care to spend an evening with them? [NOT HIM THAT'S FOR SURE. And not Mattias either, he decides for him.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 03:43 am (UTC)A night would have been generous. I believe they wanted me in a bathroom stall. [He laughs again, this time in disbelief, pulling a med kit out of the closet and grabbing a plastic cup from a shelf. Shaking his head, he sits on the edge of the bed, opening the kit and taking out a pair of tweezers, a magnifying glass, rubbing alcohol and a cloth.]
You know, I think I'm starting to become attractive here? Rarely was I so popular back home. Here—[He lets out a low whistle, wiping down the tweezers with the alcohol. The magnifying glass he leaves to the side for now, taking Oren's hand and plucking out the most blatant offenders. They rattle against the plastic cup.]
I get attention at work, too. [He laughs, dropping another shard into the cup.] They seem to think a hefty tip will get me into their bed!
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 03:54 am (UTC)And somehow, the idea of so many eyes pointed at Mattias was completely infuriating. No one cared, not until he'd taken him under his wing.
His expression could be mistaken for a wince, really (and half of the time, it parts into one), but he's actually just annoyed.]
It sounds like you're enjoying it. Was all of Renacht not enough for you?
[It's a light tease tainted with jealousy shown in the way he smiles; it's thin, a little forced, and he glances away as Mattias works at his hand.]
It's not as if they can be blamed, if you're wearing a uniform like that.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 04:10 am (UTC)Oh, come off it. You're doing nothing but giving your god a meal. [It feels good to joke about it freely. There's nothing to hide anymore. One less weight for his shoulders.] It's as you said, it's the clothing doing all the work. Strip down a bit, let them see those tight pants of yours, and I'm certain you'd have offers every ten feet.
[Another piece of glass clatters.] You're far more attractive than me.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 04:18 am (UTC)I've a uniform myself, you know. I only just started yesterday.
[But he's well aware of what he can do with it. How to draw attention. It's not enough. He wants it with a lack of effort.] You should know that attraction isn't something that can be compared so easily. If you'd like to try, perhaps you should look at your own heart.
[He touches his own with his free hand, watching Mattias' eyes for a moment before he sits back and looks away. Again, fighting off thoughts, feeding his god, as he put it. (It's a relief to hear that joking for him, as well.)]
I'm no fool. You have me beat.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 05:44 am (UTC)[He picks up the tweezers again, moving on to more delicate shards.] The only heart people see is what you let slip on that handsome face of yours. Attraction that deep takes time. It all starts with some shallow thing. Your face, your chest, your ass, your legs. Something has to draw them in. Rarely is it ever personality.
[These smaller shards take longer to get a grasp of. His pauses between words grows larger as he fishes for a hold.] Besides, my own heart's done me few favors. [He chuckles.] Ordinarily, it's what drives people away.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-07 05:53 am (UTC)[He's wrong. About him being sentimental, about people not seeing heart first, about his own heart doing him few favors. What were all of these people falling for now, then? There were many ways to get someone to like you. Naturally, or with various formulas.
Little things mattered. Facing someone directly, leaning in when they spoke, keeping eye contact, touching them affectionately in small ways. Small gestures that meant things to the other party, like holding open doors, or bringing them coffee. It was second nature.
He knew how to do it, but there were barriers in his way. Perhaps that was what annoyed him. Here he was, stuck on Mattias, caring far too much about him despite all of the same things that would infuriate him continuing to appear. Bad news about his own goals back home had him worried, not sure if he held enough hope to continue on, but too desperate to turn it away.
His mind was a mess. He was breaking, and even he was recognizing it.
This long pause is spent just staring at Mattias working, expression flicking into brief winces that he wipes away quickly.]
Well, I am still here. [He looks upwards, trying to catch his eyes again. Another callback, this time to just earlier today.]
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:i can't fucking deal with this
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: