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[twocomplex]

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[noctiphile]

Not by far. [He mutters in response to the first question, gripping Oren's arm with his free hand so he can't squirm away. When all is disinfected, he draws back and pulls out the bandages and wrapping materials, setting to work on covering Oren's hand.]

There are other ways to stop such harassment. For you to take such a violent method is... unique. I would have thought your silver tongue would have saved me. Skilled as it is, I doubted language would be a barrier.

[He glances up with the coyest smirk.] Clearly, I was mistaken.

[twocomplex]

[He doesn't mind the bandaging. It's less painful than the rest, and Mattias continues to touch him. It's soothing, in a way. Comforting. But that look and those comments light something inside-- another chance for playfulness.]

Do not misunderstand, my dear Mattias. There's nothing my silver tongue can't put to ease. But time is important when using such a method. [He lets that sink in just long enough, raising his own gaze with a small smile.]

Should I have left you to be amazed between his groping? This was the best choice.

[...Okay, not to mention that one of them shoved him and it really pissed him off. That, their attitudes, the way they used their height to their advantage... They were cocky.]

[noctiphile]

Oh, no. No, I am grateful for your swift help, dear prince. [The title comes out without thinking. He doesn't even notice as he moves on.] Indeed, I might have been in your debt had my promised drink not been disturbed. Perhaps I should refer to you differently?

[He finishes the bandaging with a small flourish, smiling at his open palm.] Does hero sound like a fitting title?

[twocomplex]

That's too grand a title.

[He says it just humbly enough, curling his fingers into his palm to test before holding it open again. Tenderly, he looks to him, and his words hang on his tongue a minute before he lets them free.]

But look, we've saved each other. [He aims for a slap for that level of corniness, and the smile that breaks through shows he can't take his own words seriously.]

Thank you. [It's a genuine smile.] You'll have that promised drink yet.

[Those ogres could camp out there and he'd still find a way.]

[noctiphile]

[That hint of a laugh, that touch of a smile, it's too much for him. He can't hold back; his own laugh breaks through, shaking his shoulders as he ducks his head sheepishly. It's a light sound, bells ringing, the first break of sunlight through a window. Something so completely genuine it seems out of place so he hides it with a finger, hoping that Oren can't see the faint blush on his cheeks.

By the time he looks up, the smile's still there. No matter how hard he tries to swallow it, it remains.]

I haven't finished you yet.

[He leans forward with his wet cloth, pulling Oren's chin closer. Their faces a mere inches apart, it takes all his self-control to keep his hands steady, dabbing at the cuts and bruises on his face.] How can you outshine me without your handsome face?

[twocomplex]

[He's beautiful. Oren's caught by it in that laugh, eyes lingering and dragging and absorbing all that he can. Mattias like this is incredibly attractive. It's tainted only by the hint of self consciousness, and it's buried by such a compliment that he doesn't even take notice.

He feels like he could glow. Leaning a fraction of an inch closer than he likely needs to, he watches Mattias closely as his own dried blood is dabbed away. It takes every amount of self control not to try and kiss him, not to push that boundary in a way he knows is too difficult.

He can't make the first move. Not when Mattias' first words of worry had been of it being about sex. Oren observed this, but it wasn't a plot, not some devious plan to trick him. It was just a step closer towards what he wanted-- for some reason he couldn't put his finger on.

He's smiling still, as well, eyes soft in their gaze.]

Oh, please. If you continue to oversell my features, the whole universe will end up disappointed. [It's a halfhearted disagreement. One meant to bat away the compliments while still being flattered.]

You shine plenty. And I don't mean your teeth, this time. [The joke is a nice touch if he dares say so himself, a good natured laugh following after. He can hardly keep still, being held like this. Why wouldn't he talk? Laugh? Smile?]

[noctiphile]

[He laughs, but it's bashful. His chest feels tight and his heart flutters against his chest. Self-consciously, he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, gaze flickering to Oren's eyes and then away.]

Careful. [He dabs a cut with a bit too much alcohol. Enough to sting. Just slight punishment for making him swoon.] Any more compliments and you'll have me thinking you mean to spend the night.

[twocomplex]

[It stings, and he closes one eye to cope with it, laughing in his own soft way. This is too tempting. Mattias is playing along, but not enough for it to be a solid deal. He kind of likes that, actually.

But goddess is it torture.]

If you continue to be so harsh, how will I be able to stand, let alone leave? [Half joking, half hopeful flirting in return. He's speaking of that alcohol and those words at the same time. The stinging of his cuts and the pulling at his heart. How cruel, how alluring. But Oren keeps it subtle, keeps it back from being too strong and demanding, but puts it out there enough to be plain as day.

It's a fun game they're playing, and his heart aches for more.]

[noctiphile]

With your legs, presumably. I can refresh your mind in due time if you've forgotten.

[The last of the cuts is cleaned and he sets the cloth aside, withdrawing a couple bandages that he carefully places.] My words surely haven't left you disabled.

[twocomplex]

Your words and lack of words have more impact than you may think!

[He says that lightly though, reaching up to touch at one of the bandages on his face.]

And my face is no good like this. Tight pants won't save me now.

[noctiphile]

[His fingers wrap around that hand before he has any mind to what he's doing. Slowly, he guides it away, gaze soft.]

Suffer for a few days and return more dazzling than ever. [He smiles.] Besides, they make you seem dangerous. It's not a bad look.

[twocomplex]

[The hold stills him, and his eyes look up slowly to meet Mattias' before they move back down to their hands.]

Dangerous. [It's not really clear if he's repeating that in amusement or saying that for some other reason, but it's accompanied with a small smile that creeps up along with his eyes once more. Mattias' are nicer like this. Without Nocta.]

You flatter me, Mattias. Is this meant to heal, as well?

[noctiphile]

[He holds his gaze for a minute before he remembers himself. Peeling his hand away, he cups his own in his lap, watching the fingers interlace.]

All wounds heal, Oren. It's simply a matter of how well.

[twocomplex]

[It's a tragic thing, feeling him slip away like that, and it's a little infuriating that it is. But Oren watches quietly, glancing from Mattias' hands to his face before he presses on with a thin smile. To act too forward would only make things worse, right?

This time is precious, but he should note Mattias' actions.

He leans forward just slightly.]

Do you want me to leave?

[noctiphile]

What an unfair question. [His fingers thread in and out, trying new patterns, new formations.] How am I able to answer without sounding cruel?

[He sighs, tipping his head up and slumping in his seat.] The answer is both yes and no but I fear obligation forces me to choose the former. Your wounds should heal in a few days time. You've no more need of me.

[twocomplex]

That's where you're mistaken, I'm afraid.

[ he frowns, shifting in his seat and pausing with a brief laugh as he gestures over to vinlates. He's currently vibrating into a corner of the room, "tail" rattling about. ]

It seems Vinlates could use your guidance, as well.

i can't fucking deal with this

[noctiphile]

Oh, goddess. [Immediately, he stands and goes to fetch the beast, picking it up by the tail and setting it on the bed beside him. It continues to vibrate about, noise muffled by the sheets. Mattias watches it curiously.]

I do wonder if it ever stops moving. [He sighs, looking back to Oren, hands folded in his lap.] He's a troublesome creature, that's for certain. I'm not sure we knew what we were getting into.

[He watches as it nuzzles into a pile of blankets, keeping Oren in the corner of his eye.] I expect joint custody, you know.

[twocomplex]

[It's an excuse to stay longer, conversation like this, and so Oren doesn't mind sitting here and watching... whatever it is vibrate around on the bed. Mattias' words are comical, somehow, and he laughs, shaking his head.]

Custody is a concern already? Are we separated?

[He pauses a little bit after that, letting it trail a little sadly into silence as his eyes rest on that ring of Mattias'. How many times has he seen it now? No, actually, when hasn't he worn it?]

I've been wondering. [He starts casually as he can, pulling this out of the blue, and leans forward a little to gesture at Mattias' hands. He's troubled, jealous, curious, but he tries to seem calm.] Is that ring a souvenir? A gift? Since it's appeared, there hasn't been a day where I've seen you remove it.

[noctiphile]

[He stutters at the mention, not in speech but in motion. His hands cover each other quickly, trying a variety of movements and yet nothing seems to hide it. His smile grows strained and he wets his lips as he weighs his options. Telling a lie would only become a burden so, reluctantly, he chooses the truth.]

It's a gift. [He fidgets with it.] From Robin. He [a deep breath] gave it to me before you arrived. I took an oath to always wear it.

[Steeling himself, he looks up to Oren with a wan smile while his fingers curl into the fabric of his pants.]

[twocomplex]

An oath?

[It sends his mind reeling. Not just a gift, but one from Robin. One that he's sworn to always wear? Why? For what purpose?]

That sounds rather serious... Does it serve a purpose?

[noctiphile]

[He can't say. To do so would betray a secret. One Robin entrusted solely to him. He shakes his head, chuckling.]

No, no. Nothing like that. It was specially crafted. [His eyes flicker to Oren's before looking away.] For me.

[twocomplex]

[It flattens his smile, and his own hands press together in front of himself. Specially crafted for him. The words spark a fire in him, and he's not even sure which side he's more irritated by. More jealous of.]

And to think he had talked down your importance. That sly dog. [He looks down at his lap with a dry laugh.]

I hadn't realized it was so personal. My apologies.

[noctiphile]

[The room is tighter, a corset around his chest making his spine rigid and breathing short. His throat is useless, refusing air and catching on his tongue. A smile struggles and all he can think of is the emotion of Michael's reunion. Tek's first warning. Was this the thread of his web suffocating him? It was a strange sensation, the world surging in, and he tries to battle it with shallow breaths that only make his head feel lighter.

He ends up laughing. At the feeling, at the uncertainty, at the fear, at himself. At everything. It's a nervous sound, one that shakes the body more than the air, and it ends quickly as it comes. He smiles again, teeth showing, but it's forced. His eyes are in a different place.]

N-No. [His composure is slipping. He ducks his head to hide it, fingers scrambling to pull the ring off. Throw it somewhere, maybe. Stash it. The oath was made in naiveté. It could be broken.] There's no need for that. It's simply a ring. A gift. There's—[it won't come off no matter how hard he tries. His fingers can't grip it or rather they won't. Really, even now he was a fool.]—there's no meaning to such trinkets.

[Breathing in deeper helps and in a matter of minutes his composure slips back on. He looks up and that pleasant smile is back with a soft chuckle.] If he wanted to propose, he would have given me a necklace.

[twocomplex]

[Propose? Mattias cared that much for him? His own stomach twists into a knot, but on his face, his eyebrows pinch together in concern. He stands just to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, not too close, but close enough to place a hand to his shoulder and lean in.]

Mattias. [Concern leaks from his lips with expertise, and his frown is perfectly shaped. His eyes move from Mattias' face to his hands and back to his face again, and he gives his shoulder a light squeeze.]

Mattias. [The composure is back, but Oren has already seen the light. Connected the pieces.] Are you alright? Is he-- [There's no real classy way of asking if Robin has done anything to him, but hanging off into silence abruptly works just as well.]

I'd thought it was only me who caused your absence, but... Is there more on your mind? [He hesitates slightly and lets his hand slide down his arm a bit.] Is there anything I can do?

[noctiphile]

[Oren's had feels like a current pressing against him. It's distracting, encroaching and does little to make his world feel any less claustrophobic. His mask is faltering, a thin veil stretching apart with every moment that passes. He needs to dismiss the subject. Bring them on to something else but his mind is working for a topic and finding nothing.

He presses a hand against Oren's chest, smiling harder to reassure him.]

No. No. It's nothing like that. He—we're friends. [He ignores the way the ground feels unstable as he says that.] I just needed to get away. From it all. It—it has nothing to do with any of you.

[It had everything to do with all of them.]