#I just wanna know why he didn't wear muscle shirts more often. I need to speak with every costume designer of the 90s.

[philhoffman]

This week’s Monday Philm is PSH’s feature film debut, Triple Bogey on a Par Five Hole (1991), dir. Amos Poe. This movie was released when Phil was 24 and since this is my last week of being 24 (my birthday is on Wednesday!) I thought I should celebrate by revisiting this little BABY on the silver screen

As I said on letterboxd, this might be some kind of cinematic Stockholm syndrome—this is my third viewing in as many years—but Triple Bogey might be... okay? It has a reputation for being infamously pretentious—and it is!—but it’s also a unique film, both narratively and artistically. It’s a story about how there isn’t a story, which makes it pretty boring at times, but I admire what Poe was attempting.

Amos Poe rewrote part of the script just for Phil after seeing him in a one-act play, a performance he’s talked about a few times. Poe was friends with Phil’s future agent, who at the time was considering signing him and asked Poe to come see him act and give his thoughts. The one-act play was part of a series on racism, and Phil played a jealous, emotionally-abusive and racist boyfriend who unloaded on his girlfriend after they saw an Eddie Murphy movie—“It was such an insane brutal performance that one actually felt awful for the actress, who broke down on stage. It was the most violent moment I'd ever seen on stage. I told Davien [Littlefield] to sign him immediately.”

It is such a brief scene and hindsight is powerful but it is still clear from Klutch’s one appearance that Phil is a special talent, stealing scenes from the first film he appeared in. The Jack Nicholson-esque thing he has going on, always grinning, so solid and just sparking. He is very young and unpolished, yet already himself as an actor—he makes the weirdest choices, frankly, but they are also true and real. The way he jerks his hands around, his fingers picking at the pool cue. 

Triple Bogey still isn’t like, at the top of my list of Philms, but I appreciate it more than I did before. It was at least watchable this time. Klutch is still the best part though. I’ve been meaning to check out more of Poe’s other films, which almost universally have better reviews than this, but haven’t gotten around to it yet. 

[mypoisonedvine]

Getting In Tune | Chris Evans x reader fluff

summary: taking house calls as a piano tuner doesn’t usually mean meeting hot guys… mostly just old ladies who offer you lemonade, which is great and all, but did not prepare you for an appointment to tune chris evans’ full grand.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, dirty jokes about pianos, allusions to nsfw things?? vaguely?, mostly just fluff and flirting and awkwardness

Checking that the address on your worksheet matched the one on the door in front of you, you reviewed the nature of the appointment as your boss had written out for you: 

Customer: Christopher Evans

Appointment type: Warranty tuning and check-up

Arrival time: 10 a.m. 

You checked your watch and saw that it was 9:58, but hopefully that wouldn’t bother him too much.  Leaning forward, you knocked on the door and waited.  You could hear a dog barking inside, running up to the other side of the door as someone unlocked the bolt and cracked it open, poking his head out while he held the dog back with his leg.

He seemed a little surprised to see you standing there, made even more apparent by the fact that he was obviously wearing pajamas— specifically, a baggy tank top and gingham flannel pants.  A few tattoos were visible on his arms and collarbones, though you tried not to stare at them or anything.

“Did you not know you had an appointment today?” you asked him.  When he didn’t answer, you tried to give a bit more of a prompting.  “I’m here from Boston Steinway…?”

“Right, right,” he agreed, “uh, let me put the dog out, and… put on a shirt…”

“Good idea,” you suggested, “I’ll be here!” 

He smiled at you one more time before shutting the door again, his footsteps shuffling away as you waited for his return.  Thankfully it was a nice day out so you weren’t too cold in your work uniform (yes, you felt like a total dork having to wear a polo with a nametag on it, but such is the life of a piano tuner).  When you heard the dog run into the backyard, and the sound of Chris coming back to open the door, you took a moment to straighten yourself in hopes of looking like you’d been waiting patiently.

“Come in please,” he offered as he opened the door one more time, wearing a navy sweater and jeans now (and a NASA ball cap, for whatever reason) and stepping aside to invite you in.

“I hope I didn’t scare you too much,” you smiled as you stepped past him, letting him shut the door behind you, “a lot of people forget when I’m supposed to show up, trust me.”  You shuddered as you remembered those times you caught people in a lot worse than pajamas.

“No, I knew somebody was coming today, I just… wasn’t expecting…” he trailed off.

“A girl?” you finished for him with a smirk.

“I… yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting a girl,” he laughed, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well, piano tuning is a real boy's club," you joked.  

"Is it?" he asked sincerely.

"Um, no, not particularly."

"Oh."

After an awkward moment passed while you cringed internally at your failed joke, he finally guided you across the house to where the piano was; you set your toolbag down beside it, stepping back to admire the instrument.  “It’s gorgeous,” you told him.

“Oh, thanks,” he smiled a little.  “Yeah, she’s a beaut.”

“How long have you been playing?” you asked.  “Or are you one of those people who keeps it mostly for decoration.”

“Decoration?” he repeated incredulously.  “Do people do that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “more often than not I end up doing cosmetic repairs instead of internal ones because families are basically using this as the most expensive object possible to put framed family photos on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, “I mean, I’m sure I’m not using this thing the way it deserves, cause I’m still not very good at it but… yeah, at least I play it a few times a week.”

“Good, it deserves that,” you agreed.  “Mind if I…?”

“Oh, go ahead,” he prompted, stepping back and motioning for you to touch the piano.  You didn’t sit down, just leaning over to do a quick scale up and back down.  "Anyways, I think it's mostly fine but those higher notes are getting kinda squeaky…" he mumbled.

"Right,” you noted, messing around with the keys near the top to check what he’d said, “well, they do that, especially out here with these cold winters making the strings tighten up.  Should be fixable."

“Great,” he smiled.

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s take a look at your guts,” you grinned, groaning a bit as you lifted the heavy lid to see the strings inside.  "It's in great shape,” you observed aloud, “this can't be more than a few years old."

"Yeah, I got it pretty recently actually.  It's never been tuned before."

"Oh, this is its first time?" you smirked, leaning in to whisper to the strings: "don't worry, I'll be gentle."

He blushed a little as he laughed, making you pretty sure your joke hadn't gone too far.

“You, uh, don’t have to be around for this part,” you informed him.  “I mean, unless you want to, but it’ll just be me messing around in here for a few hours.

“No, I’ll give you some space,” he decided, “just let me know if you need anything.  Do you want, like, water or something?”

“I’m fine, but thanks,” you dismissed, “just continue as if I wasn’t here.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna see that,” he disagreed, looking like he regretted saying it as soon as he finished his sentence.  You felt your face warm and hoped he just meant that he’d be eating cheetos out of the bag in his underwear and not anything more… mature.  

As he awkwardly shuffled away, you opened your toolbox and got to work.  Your first task was to get a pitch reader so you could figure out how well-tuned each string was— you set that on the soundboard and got to work testing keys and reading the little digital display of your device.  Once that told you how much work each key needed, it was easy to just put your tuning hammer on one pin at a time, loosening or tightening until the pitch was just right.  You couldn’t just start at one side and tune all the way up to the other, oh no, there was a very specific ideal tuning order that you’d memorized by now: first the middle strings of the octaves from C3 to C5, then the one of each of the unison strings in the double bass section, then the middle strings from C5 to C8, then the lower single bass strings, then every left string of all the unisons from C3 to C8, then the rest of the double bass section, and finally all the right strings from C3 to C8.

Easy peasy, right?

It actually sort of would be, if you hadn’t gotten stuck on the unison bass string of E flat 3, your tuning hammer suddenly unable to turn even when you tried to brace yourself against the piano for some leverage.

"Um, Mr. Evans?" you called out.

"Yup!" he answered, swinging out from the entryway instantly— he must have been waiting just outside, which made you feel a little like you were being spied on.  

"Would you maybe come over here and use your manly-man strength on this?"

"My what now?" he laughed, walking towards you.

"You know," you explained by flexing your biceps and making a sort of serious face; your charades version of what a muscular man looked like, apparently.

"Oh, I see," he nodded, "my—" and he repeated the charade, except it made your face warm and your eyes all but bulge out of your head.  That was him jokingly flexing?!  What did he look like when he was actually trying to show his muscles?

You tore yourself from that train of thought as he leaned over the edge of the piano, gripping the tuning hammer you'd left on the pin there.

"This one?" he asked.

"Yeah, just give it a little nudge counter-clockwise, please."

He did it like it was no trouble at all.

"You could've at least pretended it was difficult," you rolled your eyes.

"No, you loosened it up for me," he winked.  WINKED.  Was he trying to kill you or something?  "Chris is fine," he said abruptly.

Chris is fine indeed, your brain supplied instantly.  "I'm sorry?" you choked out aloud instead.

"You can call me Chris, I mean," he explained.  "You called me Mr. Evans before."

"Oh, right," you nodded.  "Chris.  Thanks for your help with that, Chris."

"Sure thing," he smiled.

Just as the conversation began to lull, you could hear the dog whining and scratching at the back door, and you felt so guilty that he had been left outside.  “You can let the dog back in, you know,” you suggested, “I don’t mind.”

“I shouldn’t,” he shook his head, “he’ll jump all over you and stuff…”

“No, really, it’s fine, I love dogs,” you assured him.

“Alright, just prepare yourself,” he chuckled a little as he slipped over to the back door to let the dog in.  Running past his owner instantly and straight to you, you knelt down to let it lick your face as you laughed.

“Hi puppy!” you greeted.  “Oh, thank you for the kisses, it’s nice to meet you!”  He calmed down a bit when you scratched behind his ears, wiggling and putting his paws up on your knees.  “What’s his name?” you asked, turning your attention to Chris who had his arms crossed and a prideful smile on his face.

“Dodger,” he informed you with a nod.

“Aw, hi Dodger,” you cooed at the pup, “I’d sit here and pet you all day, but your dad’s not paying me to play with you— apparently.”

Chris laughed a bit as you stood up, and Dodger actually took it pretty well, dashing to curl up on the nearest couch as you got back to work on the piano.  

“I’m just about halfway done,” you informed him as you started to move on to the next string, occasionally plucking the string to test that the pitch was right.

“I’ve never heard a piano plucked before,” he observed, leaning in to watch you work.

“Yeah, probably better to just stick to hitting the keys,” you smirked.

“Psh, anybody can do that,” he scoffed, “you could invent a whole new genre of music!”

"I'll leave the musical experimentation to you," you decided, "and I'll stay on this side of the action board."

"See, I didn't even know that was a part of the piano," he admitted.

"And that's why you're on that side."

You two chatted while you worked— he asked some questions about you, you asked some questions about him, classic small talk sort of stuff.  He managed to keep it interesting, though, and keep you laughing throughout the whole conversation.  It was significantly more fun than you usually had during house calls like this, and instead of distracting you it actually seemed to help you keep your focus.  It was easier to talk to him when you could keep your eyes on the strings anyways: looking right at him was sort of overwhelming.

With the last string adjusted, you slipped the tuning hammer into your back pocket and dusted off your hands as you stepped back to admire your work.

"That's it?" he asked as he stood up from the couch, noticing the signs of completion.

"It is if it sounds good!" you smiled.  "Go ahead, take it for a spin," you suggested.  "Play something and tell me if it sounds how you want."

"Okay," he nodded, slipping around the bench and sliding onto it.  He took a breath before he placed his hands on the keys, but then suddenly stopped and set them back on his lap with a sigh as he turned to you.  "Um, it's a little weird with you watching me."

"Oh, are you not used to performance?"

"Not outside of my family and friends and stuff, no."

"I don't really have to be here for this part, as long as you're happy with it then that's fine," you shrugged, "but you know, I wanna be able to fix any issues while I'm still here—"

"No, it’s not a big deal," he shook his head quickly, "I should get over myself.  I guess it's just scary cause you've probably heard people a lot better than me play…"

"Don't worry about that," you laughed, "just play something, really, I won't judge."

He spun back to face the keys, placing his hands on them— for a second you wondered if he struggled to hit just one key at a time with those thick fingers, but you pushed that thought away quickly.

As he started to play, you found yourself focusing on the music more than the sound of the keys like you should've been.  He was good, actually, although you could hear the hesitance in the way he played.  He didn't rush as much as most people did, though; he was savoring the piece, one note at a time, and you let your eyes fall shut as he continued to play.

You broke from your trance when he suddenly stopped, repeating the phrase he'd just finished and stopping on the same note.

"Does this one sound kinda… off to you?" he asked.

"Um," you paused, "play it again?"

He poked the key with one finger a few times, and you frowned.  "I can't really tell." You stepped forward and leaned over his shoulder, caging his body in accidentally as your arms wrapped around his shoulders to fiddle with the keys in front of him.  You rested your knee on the bench beside his legs, not even realizing that it was a massive invasion of his personal space until you were already in it.

He moved his hands out of the way so you could repeat the phrase, and although you didn't hear anything wrong, you felt the key sticking.

"Oh," you mumbled to yourself, "it's the key, not the string."

"Can you fix it?" he asked looking up at you.

"Yeah, I—" you stopped in the middle of your word as you looked back at him because his face was really close, so close that his bright blue eyes were burning right through you; so close that you completely lost your train of thought.  "I can fix anything," you finished softly.

"Great," he whispered back, eyes seeming to glance down to your lips quickly before moving back up to meet your gaze.

You cleared your throat as you stepped back, giving him space again as you nervously crossed your arms.  "It's probably just something stuck under there or whatever, but I can order a replacement key if not."

"Right," he agreed with a nod, sliding to the side of the bench to give you room to fiddle with it.  You grabbed your smaller toolkit and sat beside him, starting with your flashlight to see if there was anything hiding underneath there.

Moving to peer behind the action frame, you realized it was a problem with the hammer hitting the string— or, more specifically, with the mechanism that kept the hammer balanced.  All you had to do was reach in with a long screwdriver and shift some parts around, and it seemed to be back in working order.

“Play it again?” you requested, and he slid back to the middle and started the piece over.  He grinned when he reached the part he’d stopped at before, flying through the phrase without stopping.

“Hey!  You fixed it!” he beamed.

“I’m a genius,” you shrugged, smirking a little.  He stopped playing and you found yourself a little disappointed by that, unexpectedly.  “Any other musical ailments I can magically cure for you today?”

“Unless you can make me a better sight reader, that’ll be all,” he smiled, standing up from the bench.

“Ah, if I could do that, I’d be using that power on myself.”

He shrugged; "Fair enough."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," you announced as you put the last of your tools away and picked up your bag.  "Hope I didn't disrupt your day too much."

"You did, actually— in a good way," he grinned.  "I definitely learned a lot more than I was going to just watching TV and drinking beer."

You followed him back to the front door, which he opened for you.  "You can always give us a call if you need anything.  Um, anything piano-related, that is.  Tell the dog I said goodbye, okay?"

Chris smiled a little, softer than his normal expression.  "I'll be sure he gets the message."

As you got back in your car, you took a minute to just catch your breath for the first time since you'd gotten here.  Trying to be funny and cute and charming when all you wanna do is stutter and gawk and melt is exhausting!  As enjoyable as it was, in a certain sense, you were relieved at the idea of returning to your routine— which typically did not include super hot dudes chatting you up at work.

//

“This must be a mistake,” you shook your head as you showed the work order form to your boss, “I was at this address two weeks ago, the piano’s in perfect condition.”

“Well, he has an unlimited warranty, so either something happened since you were there last, or you fucked something up when you were there last, or he’s just determined to get his money’s worth out of us,” she explained without looking up from her computer.

You sighed and left, heading back to the same address and hoping you weren’t about to get chewed out for somehow ruining Chris’ like-new piano.

Knocking on the door, you found yourself chewing your lip as you waited for him to answer the door.  You were a little surprised when he answered in a button-up and slacks— entirely opposite to pajamas, although you sort of missed that get-up if you were being honest.

“Hey,” he greeted with a grin, stepping back to motion for you to come inside.

“Hi,” you responded awkwardly as you stepped past him.  “Is... everything alright with the piano?  I didn’t damage it, did I?”

He cleared his throat as he shut the door behind you, the size of the hallway forcing the two of you to stand slightly closer together than you would’ve personally preferred; it was hard to focus with him so close, sometimes.  “No, no, it’s not that,” he answered, “the piano’s fine, I just…” he stammered a little, starting over.  “Uh, there was something I wanted to ask you about last time, and I called the Steinway store but I couldn’t figure out how to call you specifically, so I just had to make a new tuning appointment.”

You furrowed your brow with confusion, not sure why someone else on the phone couldn’t answer whatever question he had, but decided to let him go through with his thought.  “What did you wanna ask me?”

“Uh, I just wanted to ask you… out,” he finished plainly.

You paused as you processed that.  “Out?”

“Like, I was wondering if you’d wanna… go out, with me.”

You hoped your face didn’t give away all of your shock, but at the same time, you figured it probably did.

He winced as you continued to stare at him in silence.  “I’m kind of out on a limb here,” he reminded you.

“Right, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “um, I guess I’m just sort of surprised because you’re, like… hot, and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“Yeah, like… nice…” you explained.

“Hot and nice?” he laughed.  “Slow down, you’ll give me an ego.”

You laughed, too, and less nervously than you expected.  Feeling the rare urge to be spontaneous, you scratched your neck as you prepared to propose an idea.  “Listen, so, this might be crazy but... I have another appointment today, at the Symphony Hall— it’s a final tune-up on the pianos and harps before this massive concerto thing and they always let me stay to watch the performance afterwards.  If you came with me, I could get you in for free.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, you probably have better things to do today—”

“I don’t,” he refuted.

“And if you just wanted to, like, get lunch some time then that would be great, I just thought I might as well invite you to hear the chamber orchestra from the best seat in the house,” you shrugged.

“The best seat?” he questioned incredulously.  “And where is that?”

“The rafters,” you laughed.

And that was how you and Chris ended up sitting on the steel catwalk suspended on the ceiling of the Boston Symphony Hall, dangling your feet over the edge as the sounds of the concerto echoed out from the stage, over the silent audience and, finally, up to you two.

The music was incredible, if a little quiet from where you were listening, and so soothing that you felt compelled to close your eyes and focus on the sound.  You were partial to the piano, as always, but the violins and cellos in harmony made your chest warm unexpectedly.  Or maybe that was from the feeling of Chris’ gaze on you, as you opened your eyes to find him looking at your face rather than the performance below.  

“What are you looking at me for?” you asked him with a nervous laugh.

“For fun,” he shrugged.

“Doesn’t seem very exciting,” you scoffed, looking back to the stage.

“Oh, it’s exciting,” he mumbled his reply as he returned his gaze to the performance as well.  

Your cheeks burned when you heard that, in spite of the fact that it was actually a bit drafty in the auditorium.  Even though your nerves were buzzing with anxiety, a rush of bravery struck you and suddenly you were leaning your head onto his shoulder.  Just the warmth of him through his shirt— hell, even the smell of his cologne— somehow managed to relax you and energize you simultaneously.  His hand gingerly slipping around your waist was even better.

After this many years of tuning pianos, it felt like you were getting yourself in tune for the first time.

[longingfreesia]

bury it in mine | ao3 mirror

raven and ciel try to set up a nice date, and end up with a bit more than they expected. wc 4291

note: i just think these two being happy and in love and learning to heal together is neat.

Ciel is washing up, and says, “I have a date tonight.”

Lu rolls her eyes. “Why are you telling me?”

Ciel takes her plate from in front of her (it’s already practically clean with how she eats) and smiles. “Because, I don’t want you trying to communicate with me and hearing us.”

“Why would I care?” She says, pouting.

“Well, I guess you wouldn’t. I guess you would just love to hear me talking to my sweetums.” He puts a sickening emphasis on the last word and Lu sticks her finger in her mouth, gagging exaggeratedly.

“You’re gross.”

“What, you don’t wanna see me and my darling peaches? My pumpkin sweetie pie? My little cuddle muffinー“

“Uuugh, okay, okay, stop it!” Lu whines, shaking her head with her hands over her ears. “I won’t snoop!” Ciel chuckles as he sorts the dishes into their place in the cabinets. Lu knows he’s won this round, and blows a raspberry at him as he pulls his chair out from their table.

...

Several hours pass. Ciel is more anxious than usual.

“That must be the third time you've checked the kitchen. What's got you so worked up?” Lu asks, boredom hanging on her words.

“It's a very special night! I have to make sure everything is perfect!” Ciel replies, stopping only for a moment to do so.

Lu scoffs. “Of course it's going to be perfect. You're the host, after all.”

Ciel stops once again to lean back into the doorframe and go ‘aaawwww, luuuu…’ in a way that makes her pout and him grin.

“You're a good kid, y'know?”

“Yeah, I would be if I were actually a kid.”

Ciel smiles, and slides into his spot at the table. “Maybe you're right. I shouldn't worry so much…”

“Duh! He gets all doofy whenever he's around you, he'll definitely be happy.”

Ciel turns to look at her, almost dumbfounded and it clearly evident on his face, and she feels smug. Tonight should be fun.

...

Ciel jumps up when Lu loudly announces she can tell Raven is outside.

“You're acting like a teenager.”

Ciel shushes her. She crosses her arms and he gives up.

He opens the door, and gasps softly.

“Ah, is it bad?” Raven asks. “I'm… not good with formal wear, so I didn't…”

“No, no, it's fine! More than fine! You look stunning.” Lu rolls her eyes behind him. Her butler was so easy to impress when it came to men. Raven had big muscles! So what!

Raven looks down sheepishly, and Ciel nearly melts. He's so cute. “...Thank you.”

“Oh! Come in. I've got something going already, but Lu isーLu!”

“What!”

Ciels voice is hushed but frantic as he rushes over to her. “You said you'd goー”

“And I will. After I get whatever you're making.”

Ciel groans. Lu has donned a smug face she hasn't in a while, and he knows this is payback. “Fine. Just behave.”

Lu smirks, and Raven chuckles. Ciel startles, having momentarily forgotten he came in. “You two get along well.”

Lu sticks her tongue out at him. This is going well.

“I need to go check on the foodーI'll be back as soon as possible, okay?” Ciel says. Both of them nod, and he leaves for the kitchen.

Lu immediately stares Raven down with an intensity he didn't know eleven-year-olds could have.

“Go ahead, sit.” She says, but it feels almost like a threat. He does as she says anyway.

“Have… I done something wrong?” He asks.

“No. The opposite… so far.” She says, kicking her legs back and forth under the table. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Ciel, what else?”

“Oh… of course.”

Lu ‘hmph’s and crosses her arms. “Listen to me well when I say this,” she starts, attempting to take on the regal voice she did so long ago, “Ciel is my royal butler. If you hurt him in any way shape or form, I'll have no choice but to get rid of you for good.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Got it?” She adds, punctuating it with a stomp of her foot. Raven blinks.

“Y… yes ma'am.”

“Good!” She exclaims. Then, after a moment of silence, “He cares an awful lot about you. I've only seen him get that look in his eyes about… someone… else important to him. He'll... tell you that on his own time, I think. But, the point is… you must be reaaal special for him to think of you like that. So just don't screw it up, okay? I can't have my butler with a broken heart.” Her tone is somewhat playful, but her face betrays her genuinity.

Raven isn't sure what to say, but for “Of course. I'd never dream of it.” That was the answer, yes, but the rest of what she saidーreally? Ciel thought that highly of him? It was… It was…

Lu scrutinizes him under her gaze a moment longer, then beams. “I'm gonna go to bed.”

“Hm? I thought you wanted the dinner Ciel is making.”

“That? Well… Maybe, but he asked me not to snoop. I'm a woman of my word, you know. I just needed to make sure you knew your place.” She smirks. “Hey, pinky promise?”

“Pi…” His confused expression shifts to a gentle smile. She really was a kid, wasn’t she? “Sure.”

Lu hooks their pinkies together and shakes his arm as hard as her little arm can, then skips off somewhere up a short flight of stairs.

Raven finds himself uneasy, for some reason.

One, he figures, likely being Lus near-threatening, another being… simply not knowing what to do in someone else home. He felt unwelcome, despite being invited here. Was it alright for him to be here, after all? Yes, surely…

A faint sound catches his ear, and his eyes go wide when he realizes what it is. Ciel… is singing, as he cooks. Not loudly, just a low, gentle hum over the sound of a low fire. It's… rather soothing, actually, and he feels his anxieties melt. He wonders, briefly, if this is something Lu gets to hear often.

He also wonders if perhaps Ciel would do that for him, sometime. It's a thought that makes him feel the need to shake his head as if to dispel it. But… it’s so nice, and something so elegant, in contrast to him… (could he ever sing, himself? no, that was silly.) It warms his heart, a bit, and he saves it in his mind.

Ciel soon after pops his head through the doorway, informing him that he'll be bringing something out in a moment in a singsong manner.

When he does finally come out, he's carrying platters of elaborate dishes Raven can barely (or plain doesn't) recognize. He feels like he's stolen something, somehow, or that he's lost.

The plates clink on the table. “I can eat this?”

Ciel snorts. “Yes, silly. I made this for you.” He pauses. “I hope it's alright, I'm used to making sweets, since that's what Lu likes, but… I think you like meat more, not the type for cake, so I tried that…” He practically speaks to himself instead of Raven with how he babbles. He appears to be so wrapped up in the food that he hasn't even noticed that Lu left.

Raven clears his throat. “I don't think I've ever even seen food this elaborate. Thank you.”

Ciel beams. His ears light up in a way that's very charming, and he practically glows with pride. “I'm glad!”

Raven… still feels somewhat like he isn't allowed to eat what's in front of him, but… (ah, where did he find steak that big…?) Just this once.

He would have to ask Ciel to teach him how to cook, soon.

...

He realizes, now, that perhaps he doesn't feed himself properly, and that he is very, very sleepy.

“Oh, are you alright? Maybe I went overboard…”

Raven simply shakes his head. He wouldn't want Ciel to stress over it. It wasn't bad, anyway, just new.

“Hm… do you want to go to bed?” He swallows, shortly, “I'd hate to send you home so quickly. You could stay here for the night?” He can feel his heart beating faster, nervous, but he was never one to let that show. Besides, he felt confident in this.

Raven blinks. “That's alright with you?”

“Why would I offer if it wasn't?”

“Fair point. Then where?”

Ciel suddenly straightens. “Ah... “

“What?”

“We don't have a guest room… Would you mind staying in mine?”

Ravens immediate thought is ‘no, of course not,’ as it was nothing to himーhe had spent nights packed into cots with his peers before, that would be nothing, except…

Except, Ciel was… different. He was, (he felt his stomach stir oddly at the words) in love with him. It was different.

He shakes his head, in any case. “That's fine, as long as you're alright with it.”

Ciel nods, and holds his hand out for Raven to take it. Raven almost misses it, confused at first at the unfamiliar gesture. He reprimands himself right after for being so strange.

Ciels bed is lit through a window by early moonlight. It's pleasant, making the room more comforting than it already looked. And… a few soft plushies lay on the sides of the bed. Lus? (speaking of, where did lu run off to? she can't have gone somewhere far, right? but he doesn't pry.)

“Hmm… you can borrow something of mine if you want something more comfortable to sleep in.” Ciel shrugs towards one of two doors next to each other. “The closet’s there if you wanna take a shot to see if it fits.”

Raven nods, except he shuffles awkwardly through what he can find and grabbing a pair of sweatpants. They’re loose enough that it doesn’t matter if they fit or not, and he doesn’t plan on wearing a shirt anyway. Ciel nods him towards the other door when he walks out, but when he exits again, he stares.

“What’s wrong?” Raven asks.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all, honestly. You just… always look good.” He laughs, breathy and short. Raven suddenly feels embarrassed. Did he always look at him like that? Not that he minded, so much, but… the concept of being attractive to someone was foreign and long-forgotten. And… mostly just embarrassing.

Ciel repeats the same thing Raven did, and comes out in an oversized shirt with… a large print of a very round cat in the middle? That was… cute…  He shuffles into the bed wordlessly, with the ease of a motion he’s taken countless times. Except, it was with someone else this time, wasn't it?

Raven finds that he's stayed silently by the door for a rather long time now when Ciel turns to look at him, concerned.

“Do you not want to get in? It's fine if that's the case.”

“No, I…” Raven starts, but doesn't know where he's going. He worries his lip instead.

“...Mmm.” Ciel gets out of the bed and walks to him, taking his hand. “It's alright. Come on.” He says, pulling lightly on his hand. Raven follows the lead, and comes to sit on the edge of the bed with him.

He thinks he should at least turn away for this, or something, so he does. A ritual he knows by heart and muscle memory, a seal popping open, and a very strange feeling later, he hefts his Nasod arm to the floor and props it up. He’d have to quickly get it back on in the morning, but… it’d cause more trouble than convenience if he didn’t.

Ciel is staring, again. He quickly catches himself, but not before Raven notices.

“...Sorry.”

“Everyone does. It's fine.”

He shifts under the sheets with Ciel, and suddenly feels very wrong. He doesn't deserve this, does he? He most certainly doesn't, not like this. He’ll hurt Ciel if he gets any closer, so he should stay on the opposite side, and…

and Ciel pulls him by the waist into his arms.

“That's better,” he mutters sleepily, and rubs circles into Ravens back.

It's… good. Ciels embrace is calming, and feels more like home than anything Raven’s felt in… who knows how long.

But still… still, the feeling of being undeserving persisted. Ciel must have been able to feel how he remained stiff and anxious, because he kisses Ravens forehead.

“Hey,” he says, guiding Ravens hand to his own hip. “I want to be here with you. ...You won’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Raven breathes deeply before looking Ciel in the eyes. “Do you promise?”

He smiles, almost laughing. “I promise.

In fact…” He trails off, leaning closer to Raven, almost directly on him. “I want you to kiss me.”

Raven at least knows enough to know it'd be awkward to say anything, and obliges. Ciel is warm, and it spreads to himーwarm, soft and encompassing, something Raven welcomes with open arms, lets cover him whole. It feels safe, with himーsomething he rarely feels anymore.

Perhaps it's alright, thenーjust this once, to allow himself to let his guard down, to be happy without consequence.

Maybe… just this once. Maybe (he hopes, somewhere deep in his heart he can't yet see,) much more in the future.

...

There's something warm, something wet, something too bright covering his arms to the biceps. He doesn't get time to process it before he's lifted and shoved by the collar towards a tank, barely harboring a glance at the floor before being submerged. Bodies, bodies smothering it, smothering himーhe can't breathe. Every gasp is filled with burning liquid, every frantic scrape he takes at the glass is meaningless. He can't move his limbs, anything, everything is numbing. He can't let this happen, not again not again notー

He wakes and the ceiling is too far away. He moves his left arm first, remembers where he is, then tries his right, and remembers there’s nothing. He finds a warm hand almost immediately after scrambling in front of him again with his left, and gasps.

Ah, Ciel… Right, he's with Ciel… They fell asleep together, something that hadn't happened before.

He takes a deep breath and makes a decision.

“I'm sorry, Ciel,” Raven mutters before making to get out of the bed. Ciel stirs when he gets up, and he curses under his breath. He freezes, holding his breath and waiting until Ciel settles again before leaving.

...

The night air feels like stepping through a certain, into something new and refreshing. He breathes in deeply, trying to collect himself. He shoves his hand down the pocket of his sweatpants (ciels, rather), wondering if anyone would cause a fuss over a scary-looking man with one arm wandering around at night.

That was what people called him, wasn't it? Scary. He shakes his head. He knows he didn't give that feeling before he was captured. He figures it's a combination of the Nasod arm and all his scars. And… his demeanor. He tries to be nicer, he really does… He sighs. There's nothing to be done about it, really, is there? He's tried for years, to no avail. Perhaps he's damaged in more ways than his arm.

He kicks a loose chip of the sidewalk. It was a bit cold… It was the middle of the night, after all, and he'd only bothered to pull on his shoes so he could walk before heading out. It didn't matter, in any case. He would live. Nonetheless, he shivers and rubs his shoulder. He knew this part of Ruben well enough to know that… soon enough, a small river would come into view. He quickly gets to it, just as he thought.

He's come here before, on a few occasions like this. He finds water calming, for whatever reason. He settles by the shore, staring out at the surface of the water, rippling gently with the cool night winds. He attempts to settle his breathing, tune it with an imaginary flow of the waves. Ciel didn't need to see him like this. This way, he could deal with things on his own, and no one would be burdened with his issues.

The water is tranquil, and the aura of it seeps through his chest, until he finds the maelstrom in his chest has calmed. Running away like thisーit wasn't something he did before, either. But this was good, he knew it wasーit was the best possible solution that he could access to his troubles. At the very least, it was certainly better than… less than savory methods he'd used to cope in the past.

He stays like this for a long while, contemplating more than he likely should, in a state like this. He's only broken out of it when he hears frantic footsteps.

Shit, shit, shit, who is that? If it was just a passerby, he'd be fine, but if it wasn'tーshit, he hadn't brought a weapon, and his balance was thrown off (if just slightly) with no prosthetic.

“Raven? Are you there?” A familiar voice calls, and Ravens heart twists.

“...How did you find me?” He asks, perhaps too quietly.

Ciel rubs the back of his neck as he keeps walking to Raven. “I don't know that myself. I ran around for, ah, who knows how long until now.” He near collapses next to Raven when he gets to him. Raven feels his heart twinge with guilt. Had he been looking for him the whole time he'd been out…?

“...I’m sorry.” Raven mutters. Ciel laughs, out of breath.

“You should be!” then, after a moment, “I'm kidding. Very much so. You scared me half to death, though…” Ciel hangs his arms on his knees, breathing heavy. “So, any reason why you absconded into the night like that? I'm just that bad of a host?” He tries to keep his tone light, but concern shines through.

“It's… nothing, really.”

“Running off at four o’clock in the morning is kind of a little more than nothing.”

Raven runs a hand over his face, keeps it in his hair and stares at the stars. “It's nothing for you to worry about, at least.”

Ciel watches him as his head falls. “Raven?”

“Mm?”

“If…” He leans over to take Ravens hand in his own, ever-so-softly, and Raven turns to look at him in surprise. “If we're, really, seriously doing this, it's absolutely something for me to worry about.”

Raven feels his heart swell through the genuine words and Ciels gaze. “I… Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to… ruin the night you set up.”

“Shhh, don't be, you didn’t,” Ciel says, kissing Ravens knuckles. “Just let me know what's wrong.”

“You could tell that much?”

Ciel scoffs. “Is running away something you do when you're happy?”

Raven rolls his eyes. “Alright, I get it. It… was a nightmare, is all.”

“‘Is all.’”

“What?”

“That’s really all?”

Raven fidgets anxiously. He squeezes Ciels hand, not meeting his gaze, “No… It's not.”

“...Is it something I can know?”

Raven once again looks surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” His face grows more solemn. “Things appear in my nightmares that… are very, very personal. If that's not something you're ready to share with me, it's okay. If you are, though... “ He brings Ravens hand to his chest. “I'm here to listen to anything you tell me.”

Raven clenches, unclenches his hand, stares at the ground between his feet. After a long moment, “I’ve told you how I got my Nasod arm, haven’t I?”

Ciel nods. “A little. I know you were experimented on, not much else.”

Ravens face is scrunched up something fierce, and he scowls at himself. “I… had a fiance. Comrades. They… were all killed, when I was kidnapped, and someone I had trusted aided in their murder.” He tries not to pay attention to the way Ciels face goes soft and heartbroken. “That’s… all I need to say, I think. You can likely imagine what the nightmares are about, now.”

“Ah…Iー”

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry for me. I don’t need it.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Then what?” If you’re not going to offer me your pity like everyone else, then what?

“I lost someone very important to me, too.” Ciel mutters, leaning against Ravens arm now.

“Hm?”

“He was… like a father to me. He took me in after my family was killed. I had a little sister, too.” Raven chances a look at Ciels face. He’s staring out at the water, head leaning on Ravens shoulder.

He has a smile on his face, but he’s not looking at the water, is he?

“He died, then?”

“Mm. What do you think? Killed, rather.” He gives a soft laugh. “He wanted me never to be like himーnever to be a hitman like himーeven made me promise not to hurt people.” He closes his eyes. “When I found out he was killed… I was just a kid, but I killed the people who hunted him down. With my past, nowーso much for that promise, I guess…”

Ciel hums and wraps his arm around Ravens, getting somehow even closer to him. “That’s my sob story. If I’m going to trust you, might as well get it all out.”

Raven lets them stay quiet for a moment, wrapped up in each others presence.

“Thank you… for telling me.”

Ciel shrugs. “I just want you to know that, you’re not alone in that pain, I suppose.” Then, after a moment, “Just because I spilled all that out doesn’t mean you have to. It’s okay if you don’t want to say anymore than you already have.”

Raven squeezes Ciels hand. “...Maybe… Maybe another time.”

“That’s fine.”

They watch the water together in silence. Raven tries to process everything that’s been said. The water is achy and the air feels thin with the scent of fresh grass. It’s familiar and not.

“Hey… Why’d you run off? You could’ve talked to me…” Ciel asks, lifting his head up to look at Raven.

“Ah, er. I didn’t want to burden you. I didn’t think you’d wake up…”

Ciel shakes his head. “The bed was all cold and empty after you left. I guess it was enough to disturb my sleep.” He pauses, then adds, “I’m glad it did. I don’t want you to be alone like that…”

“It’s not an issue. I’ve done it for years. Getting out, away from things, it helps me. It clears my mind, and doing it alone makes sure it doesn’t bother anyone.” Raven says as if it’s the plainest thing in the world.

“Mmm… Maybe so, but… I love you, you know. It wouldn’t bother me.” Ciel says, soft, almost a whisper.

‘I love you, you know.’ ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you.’ His tone so gentle, so genuine, repeating itself in Ravens mind, knowing it was directed at him, that it was meant wholly and truly…

Raven asks, pensively, “May I kiss you?” and Ciel dons a sleepy smile, nodding.

So he does, and it is safe, and it is comfortable, and he is most certainly home.

Ciel says, “I’m very glad I met you,” and nuzzles into Ravens neck, and Raven melts.

“And I you.” Raven pulls Ciel closer to him, arm around his waist.

“I want… I want to be there for you, like you have been for me,” Raven mumbles into Ciels hair. “I am not… particularly… good with emotions, mine or others. But, I… you deserve the same compassion you’ve given to me.” He seems to stumble over his words, as if finding a rocky path through a river.

Ciel smiles. “Aww, you’re a sweetheart.” Raven looks almost shocked, and he laughs. “But, really… It’s enough just to be with you.” He tips his head up towards Raven. “It’s wonderful. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

‘I don’t deserve you,’ flits through Ravens mind. ‘I don’t deserve such love, such care,’ he almost says it, the words dyeing his lips and then seeping in. He decides against it. Ciel shivers out loud and Raven pulls him closer.

“I’m… sorry for making you come out here in the middle of the night. We should get back inside, you’ll get sick.”

Ciel laughs at him. “I’m not that fragile, you know. But… yeah, I would like to get back in the warm house.” He shifts up to kiss Ravens cheek, and he almost doesn’t register Ciels next words from surprise. “Mm, but you’re so warm. Like a heater.”

“Let's go home,” says Raven, softer than anything else he's said tonight, and half-carries Ciel back to his bed.

The night is still cold, but Raven feels a warm fireplace in his chest that outmatches all of it.

...

By the time they get home, Ciel has shifted from walking beside Raven, holding his hand, to being near-asleep leaning against his side, with Raven having to nudge him alert every now and then.

He attempts to get in the doors as quietly as possible, and without disturbing the man half-asleep on his shoulder. He briefly forgets where the bedroom is, but he eventually finds it and nudges the door open with his foot and helps him into bed, where he goes still almost immediately.

It was… calming, somewhat, to watch him fall into sleep so easily. Knowing he could keep Ciel safe, and he could be that comfortable around him… It was good. Perhaps… he was capable of loving him as he deserved, perhaps he was capable of more than hurt.

He slips into the bed after him, and this time, lets himself lay close to Ciel, soaking up his warmth like a cat on a windowsill.

Maybe… Just maybe, he was allowed this happiness.