#and not scream and cry and wail whenever i try to sew through more than .4 layers of fabric

[girlblocker]

i have this like. tiny model apartment kit (i inherited it from a friend who moved away) and im trying to get it finished before i get out my new sewing machine bc i think otherwise itll never get done and idk i might decide It Sucks and to Hit Da Bricks

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Black Coffee (chapter three)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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Percy didn’t know the first thing about ballet.

He’d been marched to ballroom dancing classes when he was much, much younger; his parents thought it an integral part of knowing how to exist within the confides of the societal bubble they occupied. Percy had surprised himself with how much he’d enjoyed it, it seemed to be the only style of dancing that was exactly suited for someone as stiff and rigid as he was.

But ballet was a different world entirely. However it was one his new companion adored and always had by the sounds of things, given how he’d talked at length about borrowing his mother’s skirts and swishing around the living room to the soundtracks she’d buy for him from the thrift store, given how his face had fallen when he’d admitted that he’d cried the day he’d had to stop going to his little Saturday morning ballet classes because he’d moved.

Where he’d moved to or why or why this was the first time he’d mentioned his mother, Percy didn’t push any further on that. But he’d privately decided he was going to do something for that nine year old version of Vax’ildan and his dreams of being a ballet dancer.

So he was going to have to get his head around it. If Vax’ildan could keep a straight face through one of Percy’s meandering lectures on how the wiring found inside a radio was the most versatile he’d ever come across, Percy could put in enough effort to find the most prestigious, lauded ballet show currently going on in the city.

So he’d found one, bought tickets and sent them to Vax along with a black gown he could wear to the show. Something he could swish in.

Percy just hoped he’d picked the right one.

“And to do so many fouettés in a row…and then straight into that fucking incredible en pointe work! The amount of control you need to do that, it’s insane…”

Percy gave a grunt, just to indicate that he was still listening. Vax had been going on like this all through the intermission, through the drinks after the show and the whole taxi ride home. And all through the show itself, he’d been on the very edge of his seat, eyes wide and rapt, swatting at Percy if he made even the slightest noise.

Maybe Percy had been harbouring a desire to repeat their antics at the cinema, making good use of Vax’s long skirts and the darkness around them in the box he’d gotten for them. But after that he’d given up on the idea amicably, content to lean back and enjoy the delight on his face.

But now…

“The way the prima landed in that sauter, that’s nearly impossible! But even the simpler pieces, the grand adage, it puts so much pressure on your muscles to move that slowly…”

Sighing, Percy came up from between Vax’s thighs, throwing the blanket back so he could poke his head out rather like a gopher. Not the sexy image he was wanting to project in the moment.

“Vax’ildan?” he panted, breath short from his efforts already, “I am beyond thrilled that you enjoyed our date and I will take you to so many ballets now I know how important it is to you and you can talk my ear off about this stuff all night. But. Can I have the next ten minutes to eat you out and have you, you know, actually respond?”

Vax stopped, face going expressionless for a moment before he flushed bright red, “Oh. Right. Sorry…you’re doing a very good job.”

Percy barked out a laugh, “You do know how to make a guy go weak at the knees,” though his face softened after a moment, “And I mean it. You’re adorable when you’re excited about something. I’m glad tonight made you happy.”

Vax felt his throat tighten and something twitched in his chest, something not entirely unpleasant, only in how unexpected and unfamiliar it was.

Falling back to old habits, he made himself smirk, “Well, get back down there and really make my night.”

Percy grinned back and sank down below the surface, swallowed up by the ink black sheets. Then his hands were back at Vax’s hips, his tongue traced it’s now familiar route to the shallow pool of heat between his legs, deepening it and searching out new arches and hollows inside. And Vax began to scream.

When it was done and he was panting, face softly pink, a very satisfied and rather smug Percy resting his head on his chest, the feeling was gone.

Vax determined that, whenever he felt unsure or suddenly doubtful in the future, he would have a gorgeous British man eat him out. And he would trust Percy a little more with the hidden parts of himself.

“Have you had any auditions lately?”

Vax looked up from his bowl of cereal, well aware that his sister could read his face as well as her own- because it pretty much just was her own- and there wasn’t much point in trying to act anything other than guilty. But a guy had to try.

“No…no, it’s been kind of a dry spell. It’s not the start of the season, you know? Bad timing.”

“Right,” Vex didn’t sound totally disbelieving, mostly sympathetic. She stirred the coffee she was holding, ready to pour into a travel cup and try not to spill on other passengers on the train, “Hey, Vax, listen…”

Vax pointedly moved the longer parts of his hair behind his ears.

“Don’t give up, okay?” Vex sounded so much like their mother when she gentled her voice like that, “We’re going to find the right company for you. And they’re going to be so lucky to get you.”

Guilt flared up hot and sickly in Vax’s stomach. He knew himself unfortunately well enough to know all that broiling inside him would just turn to pure defensiveness when this whole charade came to its natural conclusion. But the thought of doing the sensible thing, of explaining his arrangement with Percy to Vex and admitting where last month’s rent had actually come from, the thought made his toes curl.

Not that Vex would be judgemental. Not that she’d turf him out of the house and call him a harlot and make him sew a red letter onto his clothes.

But she’d worry. She’d fret. She’d tie Percy to a chair and demand to know every little thing about him, threaten him with an arrow in the face until he confessed every second cousin’s maiden name. She’d get protective.

Vex had always been doing that, protecting her brother. Protecting him from bigger kids, from grief, from their father. Vax had always appreciated it but deep down there was always the sense that he never repaid her, he just found more trouble for them to get into and her to get them out of.

Vax didn’t want to be yet another job Vex had to juggle.

“Thanks, Stubby,” he smiled thinly, dropping his eyes back to his bowl, “Have a good day at work. I’ll have dinner ready when you get back.”

He would, he and Percy didn’t have a date that night. He was half convinced he could still feel the tingles from their last one.

Vex paused and he was almost certain she’d say something more but all she did was give him the usual kiss on the forehead and wished him a good day. Trinket did his usual wailing in dismay as she disappeared out of the door, like he was never going to see her again. Vax couldn’t be too hard on the mournful old rug, he remembered when he was very small and would sob whenever his sister went anywhere without him.

He sat and munched away on the only knock off Lucky Charms they’d found that actually tasted like the real thing, trying very hard not to dwell on his various failings any more. Not easy, so he turned to the battered paperback by his hand. He’d gone to see the film with Percy a while back and had enjoyed it so much he’d borrowed the book.

He loved turning the pages to see where the spine was cracked, to see which parts Percy turned back to again and again. It was a book too mushy and shamelessly romantic for a nerd like Percy or a casual goth like Vax, in all honesty, but there was an undeniable charm to it. Vax had actually chortled aloud at some points, where he could see a line that was, if not a twin, but a very, very close sibling to ones Percy had used on him during their dates.

The sound of the post coming through the door kicked him out of his romantic little adventure. Unsurprisingly, that sound had been a source of great excitement for him over the last few months.

It was a simple looking package today. Though Vax had learned that was no reason to let one’s guard down; there had been many packages that he’d made the mistake of opening near Vex, leading to a muffled squeak of mixed embarrassment and panic and a fast exit to his bedroom lest she see the glamorous sex toy or wisp of lingerie within.  

But Vex was gone. And he was already feeling a familiar, welcome pulling in his lower stomach at the idea of the photos he’d send Percy if this turned out to be something similar.

But as soon as he ran his nail under the tape and pulled away the paper and unfurled the tightly folded tan material, Vax knew he wouldn’t be sending Percy any pictures. What he would be doing was running full pelt to the bus stop, getting the first one that would take him closest to Percy’s penthouse (using Vex’s bus pass) and flying up to give a very surprised Percy the biggest hug he could possibly muster while crying.

Of course the new binder in the parcel was the perfect fit and matched his skin tone perfectly. Percy never did things improperly, especially when they were important.

And then the feeling was back. The niggling, twitching pulse inside of him like an itch in the form of a thought. Irritatingly, constantly there but not enough that he could actually tell what it was.

It lingered even after they’d fucked vigorously, after Vax had used every trick he knew to show his appreciation for such a kind, thoughtful present, in the absence of words. Words had never been Vax’s friends but he could kiss, he could gasp, he could moan Percy’s name and hope he understood.

Percy slipped back into sleep after they were done, Vax had woken him up if his dazed look and rumpled hair had been anything to go by, so he was quickly forgiven. Vax was left alone with this strange feeling inside him, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if he should chase it down or ignore it and hope it went away.

The second one won of course. So he turned to Percy and pressed his face between his shoulder blades, inhaling the scent of clean soap and the faintest, slightest amount of gunpowder. And things seemed better.

Vax whistled happily to himself as he jimmied his key in the front door lock that always got stuck when he tried to use it. Even that couldn’t ruin his mood as he sauntered in, reaching down and scrubbing Trinket’s ears fondly. He and Percy had stayed in bed all day, alternating between having sex and playing video games that quickly turned into

What did ruin it, what brought it crashing down with a sound like a ton of bricks hitting the floor, was when he looked up and saw Vex’ahlia, curled up on the sofa in a blanket with red rimmed eyes and a face like a storm cloud.

Instantly he realised how he’d fucked up.

“I said I’d make dinner…” he groaned, hands coming up to cover his face, “Oh gods, Stubby, I’m sorry…”

“Yeah,” Vex scowled, “I hope so.” She looked so much like their mother when she was pissed, too.

“Listen, I got tied up with a friend-“

“No,” his sister jumped to her feet, eyes black with the kind of anger that was truly terrifying, the kind borne from fear and love, “Enough of that. You are going to tell me what’s going on right now. The whole truth. Where you’ve been all these evenings, why you keep getting strange packages in the mail you hide from me, who keeps calling you. I don’t care what it is, Vax’ildan, you’re going to tell me because I’m fucking terrified.”

At those words, at the look on her face, Vax lost any fight that might have leapt up inside him to keep the quivering mass of guilt at bay.

Tears prickled in his eyes and he hunched over himself, “I’m sorry…I know I’ve been keeping things from you, I just didn’t think I’d be scaring you this much.”

“Of course I’m going to get worried when my brother starts acting like he’s in a gang!” Vex looked exasperated.

“Well…when you put it like that,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes, “And that’s not what it is, by the way.”

“Good. Now tell me what it is.” Her face was an impassable wall, no way around or passed it.

He should have rehearsed this in the shower, Vax realised, as he tried to get his mouth around the words. There was no nice way to say this, no delicate tiptoeing to be done.

“I just went and got myself a sugar daddy, that’s all! No big deal! He just pays me for sexy stuff.”

Well, that was about the worst way to say it.

“Right…” Vex takes a deep breath, clearly turning that over in her mind and trying to ignore the forced, unconvincingly flippant way he’d say it, “Well, you’re not dealing drugs or weapons. And it's not illegal…I don’t think?”

“Uh,” Vax frowned, “I hadn’t considered that?”

“Fantastic,” her voice flattened, clearly not impressed with that, “Do you even know his name? Have you met him face to face? When am I going to meet him?”

“See?” Vax threw his hands in the air with dramatic exasperation as he marched to the kitchen before remembering he’d totally dropped the ball on making sure there’d be food in there, “This is why I didn’t want to tell you, I knew you’d make such a big deal about this…”

“It just…it sounds like the sort of thing you need to be so careful with,” Vex had begun to play with her braid, a bad sign, “And you’re not good at being careful, Scrawny, no offence.”

“Some offence, maybe. Fine, nosy, his name is Percy, he’s an entrepreneur trust fund kid and he doesn’t have it in him to hurt a fly. It’s not like I’ve fallen into bed with a gun toting maniac,” he scowled but he couldn’t maintain the indignation past that. Honestly, this was all a little relieving, his sister reacting exactly how he expected her to. Some things were always dependable, “Listen, I really am sorry. About scaring you and letting you down and…everything else.”

Vex gave him a long look, the ones the twins gave each other that could say so much more than words. And then she sighed, relenting a little, “You’re just going to have to let me worry, Vax. I’m sorry. I…I can’t not worry about you. Even if he is a weakling.”

“I’m okay, I’m being careful,” Vax promised, closing the distance between them as fast as he possibly could, wrapping her in a fast, firm hug, “I promise, Stubby, one day you won’t have to worry about me at all.”

“Not likely,” she gave a small laugh, hugging him back for a moment before giving him a playful shove, “Order a pizza, asshole. A big one. And we aren’t done talking about this, okay?”

“Yeah, I figured,” Vax sighed, digging out his phone, “Get yourself back under your blankets, Princess Stubby, I’m your slave for the rest of the evening.”

“Good,” she managed a tender smile, ducking back down to the comfort of her rug of a dog, “Love you. You know that, yeah?”

Vax gave her a smile in return, really meaning it and letting it show, “I know. And I love you.”

Some things really were dependable. And he could always depend on his sister to love him and exasperate him.

“Vex’ahlia, I’m going to kill you!”

Vex lifted an unconcerned eyebrow, turning a page in her book. It was one Vax had left lying around the other day, an honest to god bodice ripper. It was fun though, she’d smiled on more than one occasion and nearly laughed even.

After much banging and stamping, throwing his bedroom door back so hard it would probably dent the wall just to make his point, Vax came into the kitchen and planted himself firmly in his sister’s line of sight.

He looked like shit.

His nose was painfully red, a colour that matched the rings around his eyes. His skin was ashy, he looked like he was freezing even though the morning was fairly warm and his throat sounded rough. And he looked beyond furious.

“I told you! I knew you were sick!” Vax wheezed angrily, “And I knew you were going to get me sick!”

“Scrawny, it was a tickle in the throat for me, it’s not my fault if you’re going to be a big baby about it…”

“A tickle?” Vax sounds incensed, “I’m dying!You know I have a weaker immune system…I can’t believe you could be so insensitive…”

His sister didn’t look particularly moved as she stood up and gathered her work bag together, this was the routine every time a germ dared enter Vax’s bloodstream, “Just keep your fluids up and stay warm, okay? I’ve got to get going but I’ll call whenever I get a break and I’ll bring home some stuff from the drugstore.”

“What?” Vax went from offended to piteous in an instant, hating the words coming out of his mouth, “Can’t you…can’t you stay off?”

Sick days when they were in school had always been about Vex faking whatever illness had brought her brother down, insisting she had it too, so she could cuddle up next to him under the covers and stroke his hair, promising to punch whatever had made him sick.

She smiled softly, coming over and hugging him tightly, “We’re not in middle school anymore, Scrawny, sorry. You know I’d stay with you if I could.”

“I know…” Vax hugged her back, sniffling, “Have a good day at work.”

“I won’t,” she chuckles, drawing back after a defeated glance at the clock, “But I’ll be thinking of you. Make sure you rest, I’ll have Trinket sit on you if you don’t.”

Vax managed a weak, scratchy laugh, rubbing at his streaming eyes with the sleeve of his pyjama shirt, “Yeah, being smothered to death would probably get rid of my symptoms. See ya, Stubby.”

As soon as she was gone, Vax sighed and stumbled to his bedroom, dragging his duvet out onto the sofa where he promptly collapsed, even that brief trip leaving him feeling utterly drained and more than a little shivery. Trinket gave a sympathetic rumble and climbed up next to him, squirming under Vax’s arm.

“Fine,” Vax mumbled without much hesitation, cuddling into the vast expanse of shaggy brown fur, “But don’t tell Vex.”

Trinket promptly began to chew on his hair contentedly.

“Fine,” Vax struggled to dig his phone out from the expanses of his duvet cocoon.

He felt a stab of regret as he typed out an apology to Percy. They’d arranged to go to the Spanish café downtown, one of Vax’s favourites. But he imagined coughing and spluttering and sniffling your way through a date would be bad form for a sugar baby.

Sorry, gonna have to get a rain check for today. Caught my dumb sister’s dumb cold. See you day after tomorrow?

He knew it wouldn’t be long until Percy got back to him. Even when he wasn’t expected in the office, he had the disturbing, unnatural habit of waking up early and making the most out of his days. The very idea made Vax shudder.

As he laid there, Trinket working dedicatedly on giving him a new hairstyle, Vax wondered why the unhappiness hadn’t shifted from his chest. He wondered if it was more than just the idea of manchego and pepper sandwiches he was missing.

Percy had become a good friend to him since they’d begun their little arrangement. Maybe it was the fact they saw each other so regularly. Maybe it was the fact that Vax was a fairly habitual motormouth. Maybe it was the fact he’d been on a fairly extended dry spell before they’d started shacking up, due to Mollymauk finding himself an honest to gods long term boyfriend and Shaun moving back to Tal Dorei.

But either way, Vax had found himself telling Percy so much more than he’d really told anyone else. Things just came so easily with the lanky, unlikely young aristocrat. His eyes were kind, he took everything that was said to him with a calm, even expression and he had a way with words that could be relied upon most of the time. And even when it failed, it was at least funny.

Vax found something that could even be called trust, running between them like a thin silver thread. Trust wasn’t something Vax gave out easily, not after the life he’d lived. He’d long ago realised that it was better to close himself off and depend on the very few people who’d proven themselves worthy, rather than reach out and burn his fingers or worse.

But Percy’s quiet ways, his gentleness, his eagerness to touch Vax and just be with him…and the way he seemed to be holding sadness inside him the same way Vax was. He’d settled into being with him, feeling safe with him, trusting him without even realising.

And now, facing down a day with Percy’s company replaced with that of a miserable cold, he realised that with more clarity than ever.

“Guess I really lucked out, huh?” Vax murmurs, finally yanking his hair out of Trinket’s mouth.

And somehow those words didn’t even feel like enough. And they came tinged with the feeling from before.

Suddenly, unexplainably desperate for something to do, Vax grabbed for his phone again.

Nothing on the screen. No message from Percy.

He frowned, sitting up a little, bringing a huff of annoyance from Trinket who had been leaning against him. It wasn’t like Percy to leave him hanging.

Now feeling thoroughly miserable, abandoned by both his sister and his sugar daddy to suffer through this illness, Vax wrapped himself tighter in his blanket and listened to Trinket snoring, watching cartoons on Vex’s laptop until his eyes unfocused and he drifted into something like sleep.

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been drifting before he heard the knock at the door.

“What in the hell…” he murmured, voice slurring, clearly even more stuffed up than he’d been before.

Forcing his legs to move, pressure screaming through his sinuses when he finally got upright, Vax lurched to the door, silently cursing whoever was behind it. Some unsuspecting salesman was about to get a Newfoundland cross set on them, the one that was currently bouncing around the door, ready to strike. Not that he’d do anything but slobber on them but still…

Trinket did his job perfectly, yelping and soaring through the doorway as soon as it opened, eager to greet the new friend behind it. However, he had quite a bit more force behind him than Vax had been expecting, then kind that could do some damage.

It certainly sent Percy careening completely off his feet and sprawling on the hallway carpet.

“Percy?” Vax squeaked in horror, “What are you doing here? Trinket, no, get off him!”

But after a second’s panic, Vax realised Percy wasn’t in any kind of distress. Though surprised, he was actually wrestling with Trinket, scrubbing his ears and laughing delightedly.

“You never told me you had a dog!”

“He…he’s my sister’s really,” Vax still stood, blinking in confusion, trying to sort out his feelings.

Percy was here on his hallway carpet, on their doormat. He was a handful of steps away from their living room which was an undeniable mess, after being occupied by an ill, bored Vax all morning. It was also as tiny, cramped and poorly wallpapered as it ever had been. And the whole thing, with all of its shoebox sized adjoining rooms, would probably fit into the sunken sofa section of Percy’s penthouse.

Vax was suddenly filled with an itch to slam the door, turn out all the lights and try and pretend he wasn’t home.

“What’s his name?” Percy’s glasses were hanging off his nose and his smile was a mile wide.

“Uh, Trinket,” Vax shrugged, hoping that jumper Percy wore, that was now covered in brown dog hair, wasn’t expensive.

“Hello Trinket! You’re gorgeous, aren’t you? Yes, you are!”

Trinket was adoring the attention of course, showing it by slavering all over Percy’s cheek. It was adorable, of course, but Vax’s fidgeting heart couldn’t let him enjoy it.

“Percy, what on earth are you doing here?”

It was as if he’d just realised where he was, awkwardness and hesitation washing over him, “I’m sorry, I know this is…we didn’t agree it in advance but…when you said you were sick, I called to see if you were okay and you didn’t answer so…I worried.”

“Oh,” Vax pulled a face, “Yeah, sorry, I fell asleep on the sofa. Must have been really been out of it, I didn’t hear my phone ring.”

Worry made his eyes go wide and he jumped up off the floor finally, “Have you been to the doctors? I brought some soup and medicine and things but if it’s really bad we need to get you some antibiotics.”

Vax stopped. That felt a little bit beyond the remit of ‘presents’. That felt like a genuinely heartfelt, genuinely sweet gesture, something that showed real care.

“You…you came here to make sure I was okay?”

“Of course I did,” Percy didn’t look like he’d been prepared for that response, for the genuine shock on Vax’s face, “I…I assumed your sister would be at work. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Vax’s throat suddenly felt incredibly tight and his eyes started to itch in a way that had nothing to do with any germ.

“Oh Vax…” Percy’s face fell, reaching out for him, bringing him against his chest in a way that couldn’t be denied.

Soon, much to his own dismay, Vax was sobbing against him and completing the destruction of his jumper.

“Gods, that’s gross, I’m sorry,” he croaked thickly once the tears thinned enough for him to get words out.

“Please don’t apologise,” Percy didn’t seem eager to let the embrace end, strong fingers still holding his shoulders, “It’s fine. I’ve not upset you by coming, have I?”

“No,” Vax managed a wobbly smile, feeling Percy’s hands anchoring him even when he’d been coming apart just a moment before, “I needed it. I just didn’t realise it until now.”

Lying around, zoning out over cartoons and repeatedly blowing his nose was a lot more fun when Percy was curled up next to him.

He had a habit of reaching over and idly stroking Vax’s hair, letting the inky rivulets run through his fingers over and over again like he was never going to tire of it. It was so comforting, a way of knowing that there was always someone beside him, someone who cared about him.

“I hate being alone when I’m sick,” the half elf mumbled, voice vague and still thick with whatever gross stuff made people sick that he didn’t want to think about, “That’s why I...y’know, when I saw you…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, love,” Percy tucked the blanket a little tighter around him, “I understand, it’s a horrible feeling.”

Vax, maybe not as in control of his currently cotton stuffed brain as he’d like to be, frowned, “But...you live on your own? Who looks after you when you’re sick?”

Percy tilted his head, “Well...I’m used to it by now. I don’t really get sick all that often.”

Vax pulled a face, slumping back against Percy’s chest, lacking the energy to hold his body up for any length of time, “Next time you’re sick, I’m gonna look after you. Pinkie promise.”

There was a warm chuckle, one that made the skin against him rumble pleasantly, “Well, I’m probably going to get whatever you’ve got after today. So I’m going to hold you to that.”

Vax sighed, drifting in and out of sleep for a little while before murmuring, “I feel bad. You came all this way and I can’t even kiss you, let alone fuck.”

“Don’t you dare feel bad,” there was no chastising in Percy’s tone, just tenderness, “I didn’t come here for any of that. I came here because I wanted to help.”

Why?

The question rose up in his throat, threateningly but Vax managed to swallow it back. It would do no good, the conversational equivalent of kicking at a pile of ash that had hidden embers within its depths.

But the question didn’t go away, a butterfly beating its wings in his chest.

“You’re sweet,” Vax said quickly, realising the pause was getting a little too long, “But you are getting a hell of a reward once I’m well enough. Just saying.”

“Well, if it’s on offer…” the tips of Percy’s ears coloured pleasantly.

The laughter came easily, as it always did when he was around Percy. Vax was just considering leaning in and kissing him, germs be damned, when the front door opened.

Trinket, of course, rocketed up, upsetting the nice arrangement they’d had on the sofa where he’d been providing most of the softness. As much as Trinket loved to be cuddled, he loved his mama more and she’d just walked through the door.

Vax was less pleased to see her, face colouring a deep plum.

“Hey, Stubby…” he began, hoping the term of endearment would take away the awkwardness of her walking in and finding him draped over some guy. He quickly put an appropriate distance between himself and Percy, so fast any middle school dance chaperone would be proud.

“Hello,” Vex’s answer was clipped, wary. Clearly the nickname hadn’t done its job.

“This is Percy,” Vax motioned, smiling through the pain, “You know…I was talking about him the other day?”

“I remember,” Vex’s eyes bore into Percy like she was staring into his soul, as if she could detect at a glance any intention to hurt her brother.

Percy responded in kind, visibly squirming behind his impenetrable mask of politeness, probably one of those things they taught you at the fancy colleges rich people went to. Though he managed to put on a stiff upper lip, standing and shaking her hand, “A pleasure to meet you Vex’ahlia. Your bother has mentioned you many times.”

Vex arched an eyebrow, looking like this had taken a screeching turn into levels of formality she hadn’t been prepared for, “Yes, that sounds like my brother.”

“Oh, all good things of course,” Percy added quickly, backpedalling desperately.

“Now that doesn’tsound like him,” Vex put on the smile she probably used on customers at her various jobs, “What exactly brought you here, Percy?”

“Well, when Vax told me he was sick, I wanted to come and just spend some time with him. To make sure he was okay, or at least had some companionship if he wasn’t.”

That was when Vex’s eyes travelled across the mess on the coffee table, seeing a mostly eaten, rapidly cooling bowl of chicken soup, a number of glasses of water that Vax was dutifully made to drink and a sensible number of boxes of cold medicine. Definitely not the props of a wild afternoon of hedonistic sex.

And Vex’s expression softened.

“Well…thank you, Percy,” she turned her face back to him, “It’s good to know he’s got someone looking out for him.”

Percy visibly relaxed, apparently deciding he wasn’t about to be punched in the teeth, “It seems to me he has two, Vex’ahlia.”

“Just Vex is fine…”

Vax butted in quickly, before things could get any weirder, “Thanks for stopping by, Percy. It was really sweet of you. I’ll text you, yeah?”

Percy seemed startled, a little hurt for a moment, like he was going to protest. Even Vex frowned slightly, tilting her head at her brother.

But eventually he nodded, trying to wipe the wounded look from his face like it had never been there, “Of course. I’m just a phone call away.”

So many times as Percy gathered his things, sweeping them back into the grocery bag he’d brought Vax an afternoon of comfort and security in, Vax wanted to blurt out a plea to stay, an offer to have dinner with them, an offer to stay forever, why the hell not?

And that was exactly the problem. That was the reason he kept his lips firmly together and said nothing as he led Percy to the door, as if he might have lost it since he last went through it.

Though he did give him a swift, sweet kiss on the lips, once he was certain Vex was busy making her after work cup of tea.

“I will text you, okay? I promise,” he murmured, eyes soft.

Percy’s eyes brightened and he nodded happily, “And send me pictures of Trinket?”

Vax snorted, “A little different from the pictures I normally send you but fine…”

At least he got to leave laughing, Vax thought as he refused to let himself linger in the doorway, ducking back into the warm light of the apartment.

“He seems nice,” Vex piped up, stirring her tea and stealing the best spot where Trinket would provide the most warmth, “Not that you need my approval or anything, I know that.”

Vax shrugged lazily, “The money’s good and he’s not a bad kisser.”

“Now that I definitely did not need to know.”

Vax smirked, heading for his bedroom, dragging his blankets behind him. He needed a good night’s sleep to shake this miserable cold. Though he paused, looking back at his sister. He could tell at a glance it hadn’t been a good day; it was in the way she sat, the way her hair had unravelled out of the impeccable bow he’d tied it in that morning, the circles under her eyes.

“You know, Percy said he’s happy to pay the full rent, it’s part of the arrangement-“

“No,” Vex said flatly, before he’d even finished, just as he’d known she would. But he’d had to try.

“Goodnight, Stubby. Love you.”

“I love you too,” Vex smiled softly over the rim of her mug. Trinket woofed in a timbre so deep it made the floor shake.

Vax smiled in return, looking back at the little scene of his life as he’d always known it, since he’d finally become happy at least. That’s when he’d started counting his life as actually being lived.

Though inside he was still shaking, still reeling silently from the one moment where Percy had been part of it. He’d fit in perfectly, talking with his sister, playing with their dog, leaning back on their battered old street couch, despite everything he’d worried about. And it only gave him something new to worry about.

Because Vax wanted it. He’d seen Percy has part of his world, the world he’d worked so hard to build, and he’d wanted him to stay. And the thought scared him so damn much he’d shoved him out the door, as if that would mean it had never happened. As if that would mean everything would go back to normal, where they were just two people with a perfectly reasonable, purely commercial arrangement.

As if that would stop him wanting something he’d never be able to have.

Vax gave a dry little sob as he yanked the duvet up over his head. Business as fucking usual.

[radishsan]

40) "im so exhausted" Chanel

When Lorea breaks, she does it in a million pieces.It’s messy and disgusting and includes a lot of scratching whenever Chanel tries to comfort her. It’s violent sobbing and bitter-black wailing of NOBODY LOVES ME IM NOT PRETTY ENOUGH YOU DON’T LOVE ME WHY DO YOU TWO GET TO BE PERFECT AND HAVE SKILLS WHEN I CAN’T?, and it’sjust 

a little hard to handle. 

Chanel handles it anyways.

 It’s not fair to him and it shouldn’t be his job to pry out knives and prescription pills out of his older sister’s hands when she screams and tells him to go away Chanel just go away, but Chanel makes it his job anyways. Lorea’s words don’t hurt. Her scratches don’t hurt. She’s terrified that they do and she always tries to push him away and Chanel knows she needs private time but how is he supposed to even trust her with that much when she’s reaching for a knife every few minutes?His parents refer to them as tiffs. Maybell and Chanel refer to them as monthly breakdowns, they refer to them as bi-weekly breakdowns, they stop trying to time them or schedule them because it starts getting too hard to count.When Lorea breaks she does it in a million pieces, and the bright-sunny-rambunctious sister Chanel loves so much splits open her own crevices for him to peer in and look at all the dirt and rot and bitterness there amidst the broken manicures and used makeup wipes caked over with glitter.“I’m sorry, Chanel.” Lorea mumbles dully, eying the scratch marks that flush an angry red against his arms while he holds her, rocks her gently back and forth, whispers as many kind things as he can think of in her ear. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with me. I must be exhausting.”Chanel feels his eyes sting and his arms tighten around her and Lorea doesn’t hurt but it hurts knowing she thinks that way about herself. “You’re not,” He insists in her ear. “You’re–you’re not. You’re my sister and I love you and you are very, very important to me, so I don’t mind at all.”But Lorea just gives a dry chuckle and sags in his arms, too tired to even speak at that point.Chanel holds her until she falls asleep. 

When Maybell breaks, she does it quietly. Chanel has never seen his parents dare to punish her outright. Instead whenever she toes the line of subtle rebellion and difficult compliance just a little too far for their liking they give her work, and work, and even more work after that. Business deals, paperwork, finances, things an heir should be learning to balance on her shoulders without wanting to collapse.She tries to do so, naturally. Maybell focuses on work and forgets all about the world around her, the soft light in her eyes going hard as ice. Her room becomes a mess, her office becomes a mess, her appearance stays immaculate-pretty-trim. A swan sailing smoothly with legs underneath the water kicking frantic, half broken, bleeding.Chanel tries to keep an eye on her but that’s harder. Maybell knows when to make herself scarce as to never trigger suspicion, Maybell knows that Chanel is terrible with trust and wouldn’t believe her for a second if she said she was fine when she wasn’t. Maybell stays away until she gets her way, and she is very good at getting her way.Even when it means collapsing out of exhaustion and being sent to the hospital trip-after-trip to the voice of her parents saying We told you not to push yourself so hard, even when it means Chanel can see the ice in her eyes melt into shame every time she has to be hooked up to an IV and watch her precious little siblings bring pillows to make the plastic chairs in her hospital room just a little more comfortable to sleep in. “Sorry, Chanel.” Maybell murmurs lowly when he quietly slips back into the room with the coffee that she’s requested, Lorea already fast asleep and loudly snoring in her plastic chair. It’s the dead of night and Maybell has a table over her blankets with official documents scattered on top. She had Chanel sneak that in for her too, along with the coffee. “It must be exhausting, being used by your eldest sister to help her make irresponsible decisions.” It’s not like you have any other choice, Chanel thinks, straight white teeth pressed firmly against his tongue while he hands Maybell her coffee. “It’s fine,” He tells his sister gently, tugging his chair closer to her. “Maybe I could–maybe I could help you.”But Maybell just gives a dry chuckle and sets her world weary eyes on the paperwork in front of her, expression solemn but disheartened at the sight of all the work she has yet to finish. “That’s kind of you, Chanel, but no thanks. You deserve your sleep. It’s hard-earned.” Chanel stays up with her until Maybell allows herself to sleep. 

 When Chanel breaks, he does itWhen Chanel breaks, heWhen does Chanel break? Over cups of tea? On the rooftop garden, staring at the lines on painted white cement marking every time he’s grown taller over the years? When he’s had his phone confiscated for the umpteenth time and he’s locked in his room with nothing to do but sew, sew, sew? “To be honest,” He admits to Amaryllis dully while they sit and stare at the stars through the skylight of a car Noe left behind when he went to college. “I can’t tell anymore.” She’s smoking a cigarette with the window cranked open, and Chanel is thanking the gods it’s peppermint because he decided to change colognes just so nobody would know who he was hanging out with when he could gather the courage to sneak out at dark. It’s the influence of going to school with Raids and Eponines, but Chanel doesn’t want to think about Merlin when he’s alone with Amaryllis. It makes his chest hurt with longing and then guilt for not being satisfied when he has her right next to him. Amaryllis makes an inquisitive sound at his comment, exhaling lowly until Chanel’s view of the window is caught up in a smoky red haze. “I thought you said you liked to do your breakdowns alone where nobody could bother you.”Chanel leans back in the passenger seat, eyes tracing up constellations somewhere in the world far above him. “I, um–well, I don’t really think I mean it like that. Breaking and breakdowns are different. I–well, for Lorea it’s sort of the same but I shouldn’t really go into that since it’s not really something to talk about with–”Amaryllis takes a particularly long drag. Then she leans over and kisses Chanel before he can really react, holding his chin in place and blowing smoke into his mouth until his head goes dizzy with nicotine. Chanel’s body sags against the seat just a little, muscles unlocking. Amaryllis pulls back just a little bit to look deeply into his eyes, mouth curved into a smile that reads just slightly like a warning. “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?” She asks, and Chanel exhales smoke through his nose with the grace of experience. When he shifts he can feel his pajamas sticking against his back with the heat of summer. “You can tell me stuff like that. I want to know about your sisters, Chanel.” It still feels wrong somehow, but Chanel concedes because when somebody says ‘want’ it’s a decision and Chanel can never say no to that. “Well…for her, it’s…a little bit like the same thing. Lorea’s heart is really soft and she’s really kind, so um…she’s always breaking. Maybell is soft too but I think she just…I don’t really think she has the capacity for breakdowns. She just kind of…sags. I’ve….rarely even seen her cry.” Amaryllis hums thoughtfully, and then she gives Chanel a smug look. Her mouth curves up around her cigarette before she lets it go, chest rising and falling with each deep breath. “I saw it once.” She says with a little grin, and Chanel sits up in worried alarm. “I wasn’t supposed to, though, so I can’t tell you about it. Back on topic before you forget we were trying to talk about your feelings, you silly emotional blood clot.” Chanel sags back in his seat. “Right–um–like I was saying, I can’t really…tell. Breakdowns are different–I can just hold those back until I need to, but um, I need a lot of alone time and I don’t really like it when people try to approach me first during them–well–sorry, you basically just said that. Um, I just–sorry. I mean, I think when I was younger I could tell. I have memories of breaking, like when I hit thirteen and started wearing the um, skimpier outfits. I remember when I got sexually harassed for the first time and everyone acted like it was normal and my dad told me to be more of a man about it. I remember–like, I remember being cracked open in places, but I don’t….” “You don’t realize when you are or if you’ve ever even stopped, basically.” Amaryllis interrupts, and Chanel can appreciate the way her tone reads off as knowing. He needs this, being in a car with a girl who just barely knows how to drive and the creeping feeling of smoke prickling at his lungs. Chanel needs this.(Or at least he thinks he does.)“Right,” He confirms softly, twisting sideways in his chair to cup Amaryllis’ face and give her a gentle kiss as a reward. She makes a pleased sound, then pushes the cigarette into Chanel’s lips for him to finish it off. Chanel slides it out of his mouth and balances it between two fingers. He doesn’t really want to smoke it all that much, he’s not a big fan of peppermint, but wordless orders are still orders. “You’re always a lot better at knowing my emotions than I know my emotions, Ama. I think that’s one of the reasons I like you so much.”Amaryllis lights up at this, giving her smuggest grin yet. Chanel doesn’t know if what he’s saying is really all that true but if his meaning gets lost in translation and twisted into something Amaryllis likes better then who is it going to hurt? Him, probably, but who cares about shit like that?The conversation drops off and they kiss for a little, cigarette still dangling loosely between two of Chanel’s long fingers and keeping him grounded to earth when all he really wants to do is pretend kissing a girl that’s in love with him when he’s barely in love with her doesn’t make him feel like a monster. Amaryllis pauses, pulls back to give Chanel a questioning look. “But you know,” She muses. “That must be really exhausting. Not knowing and shit.” Chanel can’t stop the sharp laugh that comes out of his throat, bitter and black edged. “Should I say that?” He asks softly. “That I’m exhausted? Well, I can’t tell that anymore either, so too bad.” 

Then he takes a drag of the cigarette until holes burn into his vision and chucks the rest of it out the window.