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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

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Disaster Lads, Part Two: The Flirtening

The second part of my AU collab with @whumpiary, Cass (Ace) and Kauri meet, and inevitable disaster ensues. Read Part One right here for context! This is part two, where shameless flirting is on the menu when Cass and Kauri head off to eat.

Things get, uh, spicy starting in Part Three. But I highly recommend you all reading Kauri just fail at flirting when he’s not using his training here...

CW: Shameless PG-13 flirting, discussion of past noncon/dubcon, discussion of an abusive relationship from the point of view of a survivor with fucky headspace, referenced consensual spice, discussed abusive relationship with INCREDIBLY dubious consent issues

Kauri pulls down on the stretched-out neckline of his shirt, and even in the dim alley, a bit of a large, twisted scar shows over his collarbone.

"He paid a lot of money for, for me. I wasn't supposed to be able to leave. I took out the thing he put in to control me."

“Holy shit dude,” Cass breathes, fingers ghosting over the glossy pink of the scar tissue. He barks a sharp laugh of disbelief, looking back up to Kauri’s face like he’s something close to holy. He raises the hem of his own shirt, runs his thumb over the scar along his ribs. At least that particular excavation had been a success. “Snap.”

Cass grins, craning his neck to look closer at Kauri’s scar. He doesn’t even know Kauri, but looking at the mangled skin along his collarbone he feels something close to pride.

“So, what? You cut out a tracker or something and then, what? You just… you just walked away?” he says. He can barely breathe with the thrill of that. This skittish, weedy little twink had more courage in his clavicle than Cass had in his whole body. He’d dreamed about leaving Christopher so many times. He’s thought about leaving the Facility too. Of course he did. Everyone did. But you couldn’t just leave. “Weren’t you scared?”

"N-no, I ran away with it still… in me." Kauri grins, not quite nervous at the touch to his scar - he actually feels a little flutter of pride in himself, something Nat is always telling him he's allowed to have. That what he did was hard, especially for one like him.

He can't quite hide his eyes lingering a little on Cass's scar.

"It was, um…" He gives a kind of carefree smile, maybe the fakest one yet, and tries not to let himself think too hard about the rage and the pain. "A… like a shock collar. In my… skin." He flushes, looking down. "I fucked up really badly, and he just-... But, no. It wasn't because I… anyway, I ran away with it still in. I had to cut it out later because he wouldn't… stop…" He trails off, eyes sliding away, back down the way they'd come, looking ashamed of himself more than anything.

He wouldn't stop because I ran away, I left him, I was all he had and I betrayed-

"He put up the reward after that."

Cass feels his heart sinking as Kauri talks. The long, hard nosedive Kauri takes from pride to shame is palpable. Visceral. It sits in Cass’ chest like a hunk of rock and he would do fucking anything to shift it.

“I’m sorry,” Cass says, voice rasped. He can barely even look at Kauri. There is so much fucking guilt. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Cass stares at the zipper of Kauri’s oversized sweatshirt so he doesn’t have to make eye contact. He wonders for a moment if maybe he should kiss him again. Easy distraction. Bit of fun. But the line of panic that has spiked up again, talking about his past. About his… owner. Cass pushes the impulse away, gives Kauri’s knee a friendly nudge instead. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“But hey, at least you got away, right?” Yeah, and ended up homeless for his efforts. He’s really livin’ the dream. “Now that sadistic fuck can die lonely.”

"I hope not," Kauri says, softly. "He was lonely, that's what I was for. I was supposed to fix it but I kept fucking it up." He catches this before it can go too far, too, and pushes himself away, as if trying to escape the thought. The spiral of guilt that ate him alive sometimes, the knowledge that him leaving was ruining Owen's life. It's his fault, because he couldn't take everything he was given.

He hadn't been good enough at loving him. And he wasn't a good enough pet to go home.

He wants to go home, back to Owen, so badly it hurts. Curl up in his lap and say he was sorry, he wouldn't ever leave again. Let his head be tipped back and be reminded that Owen might not love him but he wants him, which means he matters. And he wants to never ever do that, both at once. Is pretty sure Owen would kill him if he did.

He just has to find other people who want him instead, to fill that space.

Kauri digs into his pockets, rummaging around until he finds a handful of bills all crumpled up. "Come on. I fucked up your night, I might as well buy you some fries or something? I mean, if you want. There's a place open all night near here, they like me, I can probably get you a milkshake for free."

Cass tries his best not to stare too pityingly at the woeful amount of cash in Kauri’s hand.

“Yeah. Alright. Why not?” he decides all at once, pushing up from the ground “But either you get it for free or it’s on me. I definitely owe you one for the shiner.”

“I can buy you fries,” Kauri says almost dryly, although he stuffs the money back in his pockets quickly enough. It hadn’t been the best panhandling day, but he’d been in one of his slow spots and kind of expected it. But he wasn’t the only ex-pet wandering the streets begging for cash, and they tended to trade off areas to make sure everyone got an equal shot at the people who were more likely to give a little more.

As Cass stands, he feels the world slide backwards away from him at the weight of Kauri's wants come crashing down over him; booming echoes of regret and guilt and fear that go on further and deeper than any of the words he'd said aloud.

There are people in the world who keep their thoughts inwards. Their desires are still there and ready to be listened to but it's almost like background music, a hushed murmur like a conversation in a library. And then there are people like Kauri, full of aching and wounds and messy thoughts, who feel things so loudly it almost hurts.

Want to go ho- should’ve been a better pe- make him feel bette- he’s going to kill m- want to matter. Need to matter to someo- I’m so sorry Mr. Owen

Grief strikes at Cass in waves, just being near everything Kauri’s thinking. It’s dizzying. It's like the worst kind of homesickness. Yearning for a thing you can't have and don't want but need all the same. It's so much worse because the feeling's so familiar. Cass had hated every inch of Bergen Estate. And there'd been nights he'd have cut off his hand to be back with the devil he knew.

He screws his eyes shut against the pain of it spiking through his head, clinging to the wall with one hand as he feels the world tilt off its access.

Cass wants to go home. He wants Christopher. He wants to throw up.

"Sorry," he croaks, eyes shut as he steadies himself. He lets out a ragged breath "Must've stood up too quick or something. Gimme a sec."

Kauri frowns as Cass seems to tilt into the wall, nearly falling against it, and steps forward despite himself - whether or not he can really trust Cass or if he’s as nice as he seems doesn’t really have anything to do with if he needs help - and grabs at his arm to slide himself under it and help him balance.

“Hey, you okay? I think I can get you real food, not just fries. Have you eaten today? I fall over a lot when I don’t eat all day.”

Cass barks a laugh, but it's pale and wheezing.

It's sweet. It's so incredibly sweet and charming and so fucking sad that that's Kauri first thought. But it's so earnest that Cass finds himself thinking back to what he has eaten.

"No, I've eaten plenty, it's not that," he says, blinking his eyes open as the dizziness ebbs. "I just need-"

Need what? Need you to stop thinking about your fucked up Stockholm syndrome? Need you to stop feeling so saturated in shame and guilt it pours off you like an oil spill? He shakes his head, as if that'll be enough to clear the thoughts.

"Yeah, uh, maybe you're right," he says, because he has to say something. People aren't fine one second and falling into an alleyway wall in the next for no reason "Need some real food."

“Then we’ll get you some,” Kauri says firmly, keeping himself under Cass’s arm to help him balance. “I’ll tell ‘em you kept me from being drugged, they’ll definitely give you free food, then.” He tries on a sidelong smile, going for something sort of dry and I’ve-seen-it-all but the expression doesn’t quite work - he’s too genuine to pull it off.

“I know you just think I said I was sorry because I was supposed to, but I really am, um, sorry for pissing you off. I know people are mostly nice, I just… freaked out because of that guy earlier saying he would, um, would tell the cops who I was. Am. Was. Actually,” He changed subjects without even a pause for breath, walking with Cass out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, giving a cheery little wave to what was clearly a prostitute at the corner, who waved right back with sparkly fingernails that caught the streetlamp light. “Do you like milkshakes better or root beer floats? I had a root beer float for the first time at this place, it was so good.”

"Root beer floats are for six year olds," Cass teases through the thumping headache, taking care that his feet are keeping straight. "Strawberry milkshakes are the MVP."

He focuses on breathing in the crisp night air as they walk, already feeling better. It's stupid, actually, that he doesn't have more control over this shit. Weak that just a few minutes of someone else's thoughts and he's wilting like a fucking daisy.

The place isn't far, as it turns out, but it seems like there's some displaced person on every corner that greets Kauri with a smile, or a nod. The guy’s obviously universally liked. The sort of person that people gave free milkshakes to. That people avoided calling the cops for, even if it meant missing out on some decent reward money. Like the universe figured he'd been served enough bullshit for one lifetime and was trying to protect him now.

"For what it's worth, I wasn't pissed at you," Cass says after about half a block. "To be honest, I'm usually pretty good at being selfish. But then when we started fucking around, some of the stuff in your head was just way too-" he blinks, stumbles on his words for a second "Like you, you wear your heart of your sleeve, I mean. And I dunno. I didn't want you to feel like… I dunno. It just got to me."

"Besides," Cass adds as they reach a crappy-chic little diner with a red sign "No offense, but I'd rather not get laid when the other person's terrified of me"

Kauri actually laughs at that, soft and kind of a sweet laugh. His voice is surprisingly deep for how small he is. “You’d be the first guy I’ve slept with in a while who cared about that.” There’s dry humor to his words, like Cass has said something sort of ridiculous that Kauri finds totally at odds with his everyday life.

“Besides, I wasn’t scared of you,” Kauri lies easily, and probably would have been perfectly believable if Cass hadn’t been able to feel the fear coming off of him at the time. “Just nervous about the bar. I used to never go out alone, but some stuff happened and I’m on my own, for now.” He shrugs, casually, pushing the door open and looking with a shy smile to an older woman behind the counter.

“Kauri, good to see you,” The woman says in a voice that says she’s been smoking since she was a teenager and that was no doubt a very long time ago. “It’s been a while.” Her eyes move to Cass, taking him in. All that comes from her is a vague sense of wishing her shift would be over so she could go home and sleep already. “Found yourself a new one?”

“Nah, just a friend.” When she raises an eyebrow, Kauri rolls his eyes. “An actual friend, Brenda, I have those.”

Cass grins a little despite himself. Kauri was an idiot. And way too trusting. But it’s sweet, being gently defended like that. It’s nice actually.

“First I’ve heard of it. Grab yourself a seat wherever, I’ll send Nick over to get your order.” She fixes a more scrutinizing eye on Cass. “You too, young man.”

“God, do you just bring out the White Knight side in everybody or something?” Cass says as soon as Brenda’s out of ear shot. Even as he says it, Cass’ thoughts slide to Matt at the bar, and then even further to Kauri’s owner — ex-owner — and he feels almost guilty for saying it. Maybe not everybody.

Kauri is just so fucking nice. He’s nice and he’s kind and he’s good. He deserves to have people defending him and looking out for him. Cass has known him for barely an hour and even he can tell that. But instead, the fuckheads of the world had found that goodness and twisted it and made it so he couldn’t say no – no just drink it don’t make him mad– and he couldn’t ask for what he wanted - I want this I want you - and couldn't let himself be afraid –just say no Kauri you can just say no just say no stop it sto–

Cass scrubs a hand over his face and pushes his hair back, like maybe that’ll dislodge the sticky tar echoes of Kauri’s thoughts and the headache slamming an off-beat behind his eyes.

“What’s good here?” he asks, grabbing the laminated menu out from behind nearly-empty sauce bottles, desperate for the conversation to just stay normal for five minutes “It’s been fuckin’ ages since I’ve had diner food”

“Um, I mostly get cheeseburger and fries. It’s the cheapest whole meal and they usually give me more fries than it’s supposed to come with,” Kauri says, ignoring the menu entirely, drumming his fingers lightly on the shiny Formica tabletop.

It’s the kind of menu that comes with pictures, and he could probably fake looking at it if he had to, but just the back of it facing him from Cass has him wincing if he looks too close. So he keeps his eyes carefully on Cass’s face, refusing to let the letters on Cass’s menu be anything more than unformed blurs.

Instead he settles on pretending he’s such a regular he doesn’t even need the menu anymore.

“I know they do, um, breakfast all day too so if you want eggs you can get those, or sausages, or whatever. I like their breakfast. Just get whatever.” He glances sidelong at Brenda, currently greeting another couple of customers, and then leans forward, putting a hint of a sneaky smile on his face. “Just don’t get the fish. They don’t even know what kind of fish it is.”

Cass laughs, loud and loose as he tosses his head back, "Aw man. Now I want to order the fish"

He puts the menu back in its place and scans his eyes over the patrons. The harsh pulse in his head is ebbing now, soothed by the soft, tired yearnings of late night diner patrons. There's a dad sitting in a booth across the room with his daughter, two giant milkshakes abandoned in favour of cramming tight in to play some video-game together on a tiny console. Cass watches as the girl points at the screen, stepping her dad through something with intense focus before they both cheer, throwing their hands up in victory.

A side-hug. A high five. It's sweet. Heartwarming in a simple way. Even if they won't see each other tomorrow.

Cass flicks his focus back to Kauri with a soft smile, "I can see why you like it here. Even if the fish is questionable, the people seem nice"

Kauri shrugs, melting a little under the softer smile. Most of Cass’s expressions have been sharp, and Kauri likes that, too, likes the way Cass flashes looks like light off a knife, but the softer look… Kauri grins back, hunching his shoulders forwards a little shyly.

He feels weirdly warm all over, being looked at like that. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, but it’s weird to feel it and not have the worry or fear running underneath it, too. For the moment, all he feels is warm.

“People are mostly nice everywhere I go,” Kauri says, trying to look away from Cass so it won’t seem like he’s staring, but he’s… not sure he’s pulling it off.

A young man, about Kauri’s age or maybe younger, wearing a black apron tied at the waist over a white shirt and black pants, steps up with a little notepad in his hand. He smiles brightly at Kauri. “Hey, Kaur, you went out tonight?”

“Um, sort of.” Kauri shrugs again, making little circles on the tabletop with his finger. “For a little bit. Then this guy, um, I met… anyway. This is Cass. Cass, this is Nick.”

Nick glances over at Cass, taking him in with a slightly more false customer-service smile. Oh, sure, I only get the once but then you go find this guy who looks like he punches shit for fun…

“Good to meet you, Cass,” He says, brightly enough. “What can I get you two tonight?”

“Whatever he wants,” Kauri says quickly. “I’m buyin’.”

"That's still up for debate," Cass shoots back, grabbing the menu back again to make a show of his deliberation. Kauri’s got something a little giddy about him at the minute, and it's almost distracting, but it has nothing on the low level of jealousy and impatience radiating off of Nick. It's almost irresistible to play with. Nothing more than puppy love shit. But still enough to twist.

"Let's see. I've heard amazing things about the fish," he shoots Kauri a wink, and the other man ducks his head, smiling down towards his own legs, biting his lower lip a little as he flushes. "But Kauri here reckons the cheeseburger's the way to go. So… two of those I guess? Oh, and a root beer float, right?" Cass flashes his very best smile at Kauri, who visibly brightens, before looking back at Nick, raking his eyes over him for a second as he slots the menu back into place, "Thanks hot stuff."

Nick’s customer-service smile freezes, just slightly, and there’s a moment where it’s clear that he is resisting the urge to roll his eyes with genuine difficulty.

“Two root beer floats,” Kauri corrects, and then tilts his head just a little up at Nick in the same slightly-false way he’d done to Cass earlier in the night, seemingly without even realizing he’s doing it. “With cherries? I know they don’t come with them, but-”

“Yeah, Kaur, we know you get cherries.” Nick smiles, relaxing again, jotting that down. He clearly can’t tell that Kauri’s flirtation is artifice. “Let me see if I can get you and your, uh-” His eyes back on Cass for a second, uncertainly. “... friend here your floats on the house.”

Kauri doesn’t quite let out an audible sigh of relief, but the feeling is there. He won’t have enough for his bus pass after this, but that’s all right. There’s a bench in a park he can crash on, anyway, where he’s slept before.

“See, there you go,” He says to Cass once Nick is gone. “Now we get drinks for free. Most people are really nice.”

Cass snorts a laugh. Hardly.

"I don't think it really counts as nice when they're just tryna get in your pants. That guy was a dick.”

“He is not! He’s really nice! He let me stay over for breakfast and take a shower at his apartment, he didn’t have to do that.” Kauri’s jaw is set in a stubborn line, but it was still playful. He was relaxed here, in a way he hadn’t been outside the bar when it had all still been so fresh and he’d been scared of being found out.

But if Cass was lying about promising not to tell, he was being really slow about it. Kauri doesn’t mind getting to have something nice first.

Cass glances over his shoulder at Nick, running the chances in his head. He looks back to Kauri with a grin, "Ten bucks I can get all our food on the house."

“Get all our food free? From Nick?” Kauri leans over, half-whispering the words, glancing sidelong at Nick putting the order in with the cook and then moving to start up the root beer floats. Nick looks their way and Kauri quickly turns his eyes back to Cass, half-laughing as he ducks his head down again. “I feel like letting you do that is really mean. But also I could really use ten dollars, so, uh, okay.”

Kauri sits back up and sticks his right hand out across the table. “Shake on it?”

Cass grins like a shark, leaning forward a little further than necessary to shake Kauri's hand. "When he comes over next."

He risks another glance over his shoulder, struggling to hide a smirk as he watches the poor guy he's about to earn a meal from. Cass grabs at the ketchup bottle idly, spinning it in one hand as he watches. Nick's cute, in kind of an awkward, intense way. He gives the vibe of someone who was in a band in highschool and took it way too seriously.

"He seriously took you home and didn't try anything?" Cass asks, turning back to Kauri. He tosses the bottle from hand to hand with nimble fingers. "What is he, a church boy?"

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean-” Kauri blinks, flushes bright red, and sits back in his seat again, unsure whether he was meant to be ashamed of this or not. It’s sometimes hard to tell - with Nat, yes… with most people, yes...

But Cass didn’t feel like most people. He felt almost like talking to another pet, except he had no idea what those were as far as Kauri could tell, and he’d been horrified by the idea, before. But he talked like he knew.

“No, we still… I just meant, a lot of people kind of say, um, ‘you were great, hope I see you around’, or whatever, and I just… go. Not everybody is okay with me staying over all night. But… he was. And he was really, really nice about it. He… wrote me a note and everything.”

Something went tight and uncomfortable in Kauri’s smile at that. He still had the note, shoved down in the pocket of the backpack he’d hidden in a secret hiding spot up in the vents in a bathroom at the park. He had no idea what was on it.

“So get us free food but you gotta be nice to him about it, okay?”

Cass waves his hand, he smiles, replacing the sauce bottle back in its holder, "Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He has to stop himself from cringing a little at Kauri's story. It's kinda cute, in a fucked up way. If you ignore that one of the leading men is only a part of the romance because he needs a place to crash. But it's also just… so blatantly innocent. Ridiculously, painfully naive. Cass shakes his head.

"Dude has it bad for you, huh?" It's strange that Kauri seems so oblivious to that fact when he's so very, very practiced in everything else. Ready to suck Cass' dick in an alley, no questions asked, but totally blind to the sight of someone head over heels for him "I still don't think that makes him nice. If this guy’s so nice why aren't you just shacking up all the time? What'd the note say?"

“I don’t, uh, I don’t know,” Kauri says, flashing the quick little making nice smile, looking away from Cass to glance out the window at the street outside. “I didn’t read it.”

He wanted to be able to read, for that to have been allowed, but Owen had wanted him a certain kind of way, he’d said it over and over again. I asked for a brainless slut, but shit, this seems like a little much, Kore-Bore. He had lots of papers in his backpack - things he’d been given for whatever reason. Pamphlets and handouts and the note from Nick, pages of books with cool illustrations. None of it he could read. All of it he hung onto because one day he wanted to. He knew words had been important, once, for whoever he’d been before. He wanted to make them important again.

“I don’t really stay with people more than once. If you stay a lot, people, um… want to know you.” Another flash of the nervous little smile. “It’s usually better for other people if they just see me sometimes. You know?”

Cass nods. He does know. Maybe not as well, or the same, but he knew. When you hung around someone a lot, they started looking a little closer. And once they started looking closer, they started wanting things from you. Sometimes they wanted something to hold over you. Sometimes they just thought they wanted to know you. But either way, they wanted your story, wanted to split you open and see all the ugly parts. Make a judgement.

“I get it,” he says, tracing lines between the grey flecks of the table top. He looks back up to Kauri, smiles something like understanding. Cass can’t give him much but he can give him that. He can give him understanding. “Safer that way, huh?”

Almost as soon as the words leave his mouth, Cass sees Nick out of the corner of his eye carrying over their two impressive looking drinks. He leans back in his chair, posture loose and open and grins at Kauri, bouncing his eyebrows conspiratorially. Game on.

“Here we go. Two root beer floats,” Nick says, placing the drinks down before he smiles at Kauri, gaze lingering a little long “Extra cherries.”

“Thanks,” Cass says, smiling as he pulls his drink close. He picks up his spoon, skimming a little foam of the top and turning the spoon upside down on his tongue. He waits for Nick to turn away before he pipes up again, as if on an afterthought. “Hey… Nick, right? Can you settle a debate for us?”

“Uh…” Nick glances over his shoulder, in the vague direction of Brenda, who was currently engrossed in the photos on some regular’s phone “Yeah, sure.”

“Well see, I think Kauri here must be your favourite customer, seeing that he’s scoring the drinks for free and all. But he seems to think he’s not that special,” he makes quick eye contact with Kauri, resisting the urge to wink. “You like him though, right?”

Nick gapes a little, clearly flustered as he turns slowly red. He rubs a hand over the nape of his neck while looking pointedly everywhere but Kauri. “Uhh… Yeah. Sure. I mean- you know. Everyone likes Kauri.”

“See that’s what I said, but he refuses to agree with me,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Reckon you could score him his food for free to convince him?”

“Oh. Um,” Nick glances at Kauri, clearly embarrassed that he’s been caught between a rock and looking like an asshole. “I dunno. The um, two drinks is already kinda...”

Cass groans in a teasing way, reaching his foot out to nudge Nick’s leg as though they’re dancing around the inevitable. Which… well...

“C'ᴍᴏɴ ɴɪᴄᴋ,” he says, reaching into that part of him that wants so badly to impress the boy with nothing to his name than a pretty face and the twenty bucks in his pocket. Cass catches the waiter’s eye and tilts his head to the side in a shadow of Kauri’s little trade-mark. “Gɪᴠᴇ ᴜs ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ.”

Nick glances back over his shoulder again at Brenda before looking at Kauri again, a rebellious little smile tugging at his mouth as he makes the choice. Or tells himself he makes the choice. “Yeah. Yeah alright.”

Kauri blinks, eyes slightly widening in surprise, but he covers it fairly well and smiles up at Nick with all his sweetness on display. “That’s really great, Nick,” He says, leaning his chin on one hand. Nick looks a little dazed at the attention from them both at once and swallows, almost compulsively, before he looks down with his head tilted, kind of rubbing at the back of his neck, a little shyly.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m doing much, just some food.”

“No, but it’s really cool of you, thank you,” Kauri says, sincerely. He’s not sure why Nick made that decision tonight, but he’s genuinely grateful for it. “Panhandling didn’t go super well today, it’s, it’s a big help.”

“Yeah, well.” Nick shrugs, and grins. “You want to apply for a job here, Kaur, you got it and you know it. I can get you an application, like, anytime.”

Kauri’s flirty little smile goes cold, for just a moment, and is immediately back to the artificial warmth from before. “Don’t worry about it,” He says, a little too softly. “You’re really cool, Nick, thanks.”

Nick just smiles back at him, gives he and Cass one more nod, and has his mouth open to say more when Brenda calls his name. “Gotta go, I’ll get your food out in just a minute.”

Kauri waits until he’s safely out of earshot before he leans forward, digging in one pocket with his hand. “How did you do that? I mean, I guess I’ve never actually asked for anything free, it just sort of happens sometimes, but… how’d you get the whole meal? I can’t believe he just gave it to you.”

He pulls a crumbled ten-dollar bill out of his pocket and slides it across the table. At least he can still look at numbers, if he’s careful. “All right, I owe you this.”

Cass grins, taking a spoonful of ice cream and turning it upside on his tongue as he looks over his shoulder, giving Nick a little wave and a smile. Poor sucker.

“Nah, keep it. Wasn’t really a fair bet.” he says, plucking one of the cherries from the top of his drink and topping Kauri’s with it instead. “You might be good at getting people to like you, but I’m good at getting people to do what I want. I knew he was gonna do it before I even asked.”

Kauri snorts, digging in himself, dipping the cherry out first to bite into it, enjoying the burst of cold sweetness on his tongue. “Clearly,” Kauri declares airily, “you have an ego the size of my dick.” He flushes, then, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I mean. Not, uh, mine. I mean, I think mine’s okay-...”

If he gets any more blood in his face he’s going to pass out.

“... I’m just going to stop talking now.”

Kauri picks a big bite of ice cream off with his spoon and jams it into his mouth to shut himself up - only to wince when the brain freeze hits, groaning. Cass tosses his head back in a mad laugh at Kauri's self-spun embarrassment. Fuck he's cute.

"Relax, man, don't hurt yourself," Cass says through the last of a chuckle, reaching out to grab Kauri's hand in mock-sympathy. "I'm sure you have a very nice-sized dick."

Kauri makes a sound that's somewhere between laughter and a please let me sink into the ground now noise, turning even redder if that's possible. He's not sure it is.

He feels weirdly dizzy and his hand lights up where Cass touches him. He's sure he has the dumbest fucking smile on his face but he can't seem to stop it.

Cass draws his hand back with a smirk and goes back to his own drink, taking a very deliberately very reasonably sized scoop of ice-cream from the top and tilting it towards Kauri before eating it. He looks at Kauri's face, still recovering from the flurry of a frozen head and the foot in his mouth. Cass taps his fingers on the table top, considering. How much did he want to show off?

"I mean like… you're not wrong, but it's also not ego if it's true," he shrugs "People just do what I want them to do. Call it a talent.”

Kauri feels an urge to say something like I would do what you want me to do, but he pushes it down. Last time Cass had… seen his training, and freaked out, and he doesn't want that to happen again. Cass was maybe the first person to notice when Kauri was in his head, at first.

"Then why are you spending your time with a homeless guy and not, like, getting someone in a suit to buy you…" Kauri trails off. He has no idea what rich people eat, except what Owen ate, and he doesn't know if Owen was… like other rich people. He hopes not. "... I don't know, fancy steak or something?"

He leans over to sip through his straw, closing his eyes at the dark taste of root beer mixed with the cream and vanilla of the ice cream.

It was getting increasingly difficult to even be in the general vicinity of Kauri existing and not be endlessly distracted by the slutty virgin shtick. The guy ate his root beer float like it was a gift from heaven, made by God personally and, even more infuriatingly, seemingly unaware of what that amount of blissful indulgence was doing to everyone around him.

Not even seemingly unaware. Literally so. If it was intentional, the desire for attention would be rolling off of him in peutrid, sticky flashes. As it was, all Kauri seemed to care about right now was enjoying exactly what was in front of him. Cass has to stop himself from smiling too fondly. He was starting to see why the guy was so fucking liked.

"I don't like people in suits. I like you," he says, simply. "Besides, you ever actually spend time with a rich person? They're all boring as fuck."

"Just, um, just the one rich person," Kauri says, trying not to let Owen's face find its way into his mind. How sad and lonely he must be by himself in the condo, without Kauri to curl up with him on the couch or in his bed.

All by himself in the shower…

Kauri's eyes are distant, thinking of Owen drinking alone on the balcony with no one to talk to and be sad to, and he opens his mouth to say - something, he doesn't really know what, but he feels the sudden urge to tell Cass too much. To confess, just say I can't read and I can't look in the mirror I don't know what I look like I only know how to be good one way and everything they say about the ones like me is true and he hurt me and I still miss him - and just as the first vibration of sound is in his throat, Nick puts the plates down in front of them.

Kauri looks up at Nick with a smile shining with more gratitude than just bringing food out really calls for, and Nick blinks at him, a little thrown off. "You guys good? Need anything?"

"Everything looks great," Kauri says, with entirely too much sincerity.

Cass smiles briefly at Nick in thanks as he grabs his plate, but he keeps his attention on Kauri, whose thoughts are currently as calm as a drum kit is when it's pushed down the stairs. Cass tilts his head to the side, eyes searching Kauri's face as Nick walks away.

The same sadness and shame from earlier is coming off of him in waves, ebbing and flowing endlessly. A gentle desperation, searching for some way out, some way to relieve the constant storming.

"Did you want to tell me about him?" Cass asks, before he can stop himself, and immediately he feels the tugging of a yes and a no tangled violently together. He breaks eye-contact and turns his attention to the food. They really had given Kauri a whole damn mountain of fries. "The guy who, uh… who owned you."

There's no extra influence to it yet, no pressure. Just the question. Kauri could walk away from answering if he wanted. Sometimes a locked door didn't need a lockpick. Just the right key.

Kauri picks up a fry, stares at it like it might bite him, then bites into it, half hanging out his mouth as he reaches to the side of the table, against the window, to get the ketchup bottle and pour some out on his plate, not quite looking up.

Only when he finishes the first and picks up the second does he shrug, a little barely visible movement of his shoulders under his oversized zip-up. "You know how they say - people in, in movies say - that you can't force someone to love you? That's, uh. That's a lie. You can. You, um. He's… he was in a lot of movies, when he was a kid." Kauri's voice dips low, nearly a whisper. "Have you heard of Owen Grant? He was in, um, Dimmer Switch. That had a big international release, really popular in, um, overseas. And a movie about baseball when he was really young…"

Cass frowns, face twisting as he tries to place the name. He's heard of Dimmer Switch, he thinks, but he hasn't actually seen it. It sounded like the sort of cult classic horror junk Lou would watch. He's about to shake his head and shrug when he has a vague memory of an old VHS cover, a kid with insanely green eyes posing precociously with a baseball bat.

"Jesus Christ. The kid from fucking Swing for the Stars?" he blurts out as the pieces slot into place. Henri had been obssessed with that stupid movie. He shakes his head with a scoff, picking at the fries on his plate but not actually eating. It's kinda difficult to feel hungry, now. "What a fucking creep."

"Yeah!" Kauri brightens when Cass guesses right, a look of weird mixed sadness and guilt and pride on his face. "He was, um, that's what got him famous. Was that one. He's good in it, for a kid, right? Really good. He did a lot of movies but he stopped acting… um." There's a hesitation - he wants and doesn't want to tell Cass this, Cass is the only person he's ever said it out loud to. "He, um. You know who Vincent Shield is." His smile gets more nervous now. "I know you know, he's um, Nat always says he's like Tom Cruise. I, um. Nat says I… look like him. They used to be… they don't talk anymore. And Mr. Owen wanted… um." He swallows a bite the wrong way and has to clear his throat, fingers tapping nervously on the tabletop as he drank half of what was left of his root beer in one long go.

"You can have someone made for you. If you have money." Flash of nervous smile again. "Mr. Owen has a lot. And he wanted the, um, Vince. To do that. To love him."

A mix of cold rage and bone-deep sorrow sweeps through Cass like ice water. When Cass had gone with Christopher, when he'd agreed to sign his sentence over to the Bergen Estate, it'd been entirely his choice. He'd chosen to land himself juvie, he'd chosen to sign up to the indenture program, he'd chosen to sign that fucking contract, had chosen a life with Christopher. And he'd chosen when to end it.

He'd even chosen the Facility, chosen Tucker, in the end.

Kauri hadn't had any of that. Or at least, certainly not by the sounds. Cass had thought he'd looked familiar at the start of the night. Turns out he was just some poor bastard with a movie star's face.

"I'm sorry," Cass says for the second time that night. It's an effort to keep the shaking fury out of his voice. "I'm… that's horrible. That's really fucking horrible."

Cass runs his thumb up and down along the rim of his plate, clenching his jaw. The fucker wanted to force someone to love him, huh? He closes his eyes, takes a deep shaking breath, and swears he can see Christopher imprinted on his eyelids. I don't need you to love me back, darling boy, but I need you to know that I love you. He never thought he'd meet someone who made him feel lucky in comparison. He opens his eyes again, looking at Kauri with earnest.

"You had a life, though, right? Before he took you? Why don't you just-" Cass cuts himself off and shakes his head, wiping a hand over his mouth like that could take the words back. For all he knew, Kauri had as much to go back to as he did. Maybe less. "Sorry. Stupid question. Don't answer that."

Kauri blinks at him, baffled by the question, before he smiles again. It’s a reflex more than an emotion - Kauri smiles to stave off conflict and deflect questions just as often as he smiles out of any genuine feeling. “He didn’t take me, he bought me. From a company, WRU? I don’t know who I was before.”

He shrugs. “The first thing I remember is training in the Facility. They, um… they probably know what my name was before. I don’t… remember it. They wipe us clean and then make us what the order form says.” He winces, reaching up to rub a hand against his head - the headache comes on fast, a sharp slice of pain across his mind, as soon as he tries to think any further back than training.

“We sign contracts? We signed up for this.” The words come out almost monotone on the second sentence, clearly memorized, pushed out of him by some base conditioned instinct that isn’t even conscious thought. “All pets are of legal consenting age,” He intones, his eyes going distant again, before he shakes it off. “So, um. That’s why you can’t… I hope you won’t, anyway… tell the cops. Because I kind of broke the law, um, running away.”

It's so obviously a stack of beaten in, awful lies and Cass can't tell if Kauri actually believes them or has just had them forced down his throat so many times he doesn't know to say anything else. There’s an electric rage bubbling under his skin at the thought of Kauri being taken to some facility. Fucking signed up for it did he? Agreed to have his thoughts wiped clean and his personality reset to Sexdoll Barbie? What a crock of shit.

Kauri flashes the sweet, slightly nervous smile again. “I’m a hardened criminal, believe it or not. I… I signed up for it, but… it doesn’t feel like I did...” He winces again, rubbing at his head. “Sorry. You did not sign up for all this when you tried to help me at the bar.”

"No, you're fine," Cass says, voice strained with the effort to keep it calm. He doesn't know what else to say. “This isn’t exactly my first… fucked up backstory rodeo. I won’t tell anyone, I won’t say anything.” Cass’ word wasn’t worth much on a standard day, but he means this. “I promise.”

He stares at his food instead of Kauri, picks up a fry, puts it back down, turns the plate a little, picks up another fry. His vision darkens around the edges, a pressure in his head, and he realises his breaths have gotten quietly shallow and strained, air barely reaching his lungs. He takes a deliberately deep breath in, flashing a numbed smile at Kauri.

“It’s funny, well not- not funny,” he clears his throat “You’re the first person I’ve met who, uh… Look, I know a lotta people who have… contracts to people. To businesses. You’re the first person I met who doesn’t seem like they deserved it.”

Kauri tilts his head, glancing over at Nick - just around, really, but it seems like no one is listening in or anything - and then he turns back, reaching his hand back out, brushing his fingers against the back of Cass's hand holding the fry.

"I'm okay," He says, reassuring, his voice low and sincere. "A lot of us have it, um, a lot worse than I did. Some pets get hurt a lot… I just, um." Another flash of his nervous smile. "Only after I messed up really badly. I was really lucky. He, um. He told me I was lucky all the time. I'm okay, Cass. See?"

A slightly sunnier expression, more sincere. He pushed himself up just slightly and leaned over to boop Cass on the nose.

"What could be more okay than hanging out with you, right? I don't mind. Don't feel bad for me or anything, I like moving around. Anything's better than not being allowed to leave, right?"

Cass finds himself smiling, despite himself, "Right."

He tries not to think about his bed back at the Facility, or the lab session he had tomorrow, or the interstate trip he'd have to do with Tucker next week. It wasn't the same. He chose to transfer his indenture. He could leave. He was here after all.

Kauri's a tragedy on legs and he doesn't even know it. He thought he was lucky because he wasn't hurt that much. Lucky, because he had the luxury of being homeless instead of chained to some guy's bed. And he was sitting here trying to make Cass feel better. He'd even been ready to give up his next-to-nothing savings to buy Cass a burger. It was almost enough to have you considering restoring your faith in the world.

Cass smiles again, properly this time, shaking his head. He shoves the fry in his mouth at last and grabs his glass, tilting it towards Kauri in a belated toast, "To moving around and root beer floats."

Kauri’s smile brightens even more and he picks up his already-half-gone glass almost eagerly to clink the rim against Cass’s. “Right! To never being stuck behind a locked door, ever again. That’s why I’m really lucky. When I got the chance to walk away… I could.”

Well, not walk.

Throw himself out of a moving car, rolling along the road curled around his backpack to protect it, and then run like hell while his collarbone lit up and dropped him to the ground, again and again and again…

But Cass didn’t need to know that part.

“Nat says the ones like me usually can’t.” He paused, considering something, eyes moving over Cass’s face thoughtfully. “And, hey. I really, honestly do think you’re, um, cute.” A hint of the flush again, unpracticed and genuine. “I know that you think it was because I was scared and that I was just saying it so you wouldn’t tell anybody about me, but… I can, uh. I can just want things like normal people do, too. You know? If I asked again and I wasn’t scared… what would you, um… what would you say?”

Cass smirks, and picks up his glass, ignoring the straw as he takes a long, slow drink from the rim before replacing it and sitting back in his seat. He tilts his head to the side, considering. What would he say?

There was no denying Kauri's attractiveness – he had the face of a goddamn movie star for fuck’s sake – but what was a pretty face stacked up next to a story so tragic the guy had to apologise just for telling it?

He thinks back to outside of the bar. The horrible whiplash between the desire to please and the terror to refuse. The faint, bitter aftertaste of I don't want this after every touch, every kiss. Even sitting here, now, Cass feels his stomach flip, his throat close up at just the thought of it.

But then he thinks about how Kauri looks, enjoying his float, complete and unapologetic bliss painting his face. Or the starry-eyed awe when Nick had agreed to the free meal. The way he's blushing right now, an equal mix of excited and unsure. That kind of enthusiasm was something Cass could get on board with. If Kauri asked him again and he wasn't scared, if he looked at him like that?

He lets his eyes travel down Kauri's torso and then back to his face. Lets his tongue flick out over his lips, as his mouth tugs into a dangerous smile.

"Baby if you wanted it..." – if you really wanted it – "...I would eat you alive"

Kauri’s shy smile widens, until the usual hint of teeth instead flash bright white and light up his entire face, wide blue eyes sparkling, looking right at Cass, not ducking his head or using the practiced head-tilt at all. Just genuine, outright joy.

“Do you, um…” The blush again, and he bites down on his lower lip, sitting leaning forward with his shoulders hunched, watching Cass’s face. He’s not as good as being suave as he wishes he was, and has to hope Cass is as much into a stammering mess as he might be into someone who had themselves together a little better than this. “... do you promise?”

Cass smiles at the blush, at the awkward. It's so much better than the low airy voice of complacency. He reaches forward, his fingers drawing a line up the back of Kauri's hand until they're sneaking their way up the cuff of his sweatshirt. He could almost swear there was electricity buzzing underneath Kauri's skin.

"Why don't you finish your burger? Maybe I'll prove it"

It feels, to Kauri like every spot Cass touches on him sparks and lights up, the feeling of his fingers lingering after he has pulled his hand back. Kauri wants to be on his knees or his back with Cass so badly he could scream.

He picks up his burger but he hardly cares about it now, he’s more interested in eating the exact amount necessary for Cass to figure it was enough to count as ‘finished’. Something about being way more honest about himself than he ever was with almost anyone feels like pure weight off his chest, leaving Kauri almost drunk on the feeling, more than he’d been drunk on the actual booze back in the bar.

“I think I need to know more guys like you,” Kauri says, feeling a little dizzy with how fucking great tonight has ended up. He needs to know more guys who care if he’s scared or not, who even notice. He needs more guys who do the right thing when someone needs help.

“You’re really fucking nice, Cass.”

Cass snorts, throwing a fry in his mouth and speaking through a mouthful of potato, “I’m really not. You just caught me on a good night.”

If he’d been another few drinks in when he’d first noticed Kauri, he would’ve turned a blind eye and melted away to make out with Krystal or Kylie or whatever her name had been instead. If he’d been feeling a little more reckless fighting the douchebag in the corner, they’d probably both be sitting in a jail cell. If he’d been feeling a little more self-destructive outside the bar, a little more dangerous, he could’ve ignored the screaming in his head, the screaming in Kauri’s. He could’ve just kept kissing him. He could’ve… would’ve…

It doesn’t matter what he would have done, he tells himself. Because he didn’t. Not this time. That was what counted.

He wishes he believed it.

“What about your friends?” he asks, trying to shake off the thoughts rattling him as leans forward to dip a fry in Kauri’s sauce “They’re not nice?”

“Yeah, they are.” Kauri smiles a little. “I stay with them sometimes.” There was only one person he always picked up the phone for. The only person who knew all the bad things inside of him, not just the ones Kauri felt safe sharing. “But he’s, um.” Kauri’s smile slips and then reappears just as quickly as he shoves the guilt deeper down inside of himself, buries it under a cascade of not fucking now, damn it.

“I’m kind of taking a break from bothering him with my shit.”

Kauri shifts around in the booth, moving to sit with his back to the window so he can pull his knees up, a hint of skin showing through where holes were beginning to wear.

“He’s probably pretty happy to have me stop showing up at his door all the time. We just… sorry, none of that’s important.”

Cass taps his fingers in a steady rhythm on the tabletop as he watches Kauri carefully from across the booth. He doesn’t want to talk about this, Cass’ mind supplies. Literally anyone could see how uncomfortable Kauri was. Scared, even.

“Nah you’re good,” Cass shrugs with an easy smile “I just wondered.”

Cass wants to ask what happened between the two of them. More than to empathise, he just wants to know the story. Which one of them fucked it up so bad that ‘only real friend’ goes to nothing. It was pretty fucking clear that Kauri thought it was his fault. But to be fair, Kauri more or less thought that getting punched in the head was his fault.

Cass wants to know the truth of it so bad. Instead he changes the subject.

“I kinda fucked up your chances to find a place to stay tonight, huh?”

Kauri snorts, resting his chin on his knees, watching Cass with a hint of the same small smile on his face. Just watching his hair move as he talks, and the way his fingers look touching the table.

Kauri wonders, vaguely, if he knows how to pull hair just the right way so it hurts a little, but not too much. With hair like his, he probably does.

“You’re okay. Better than waking up drugged-up in that guy’s basement or whatever, right? I have a bench I go to sometimes if I don’t find anybody for the night, I’ll go over that way eventually. I have a blanket I hid over there we can, um, use, if you want. Or just an alley.” He tries for a wink, and he isn’t entirely sure it works and doesn’t just look a little bit ridiculous. “I’m not, um. Picky. You said you sleep at the place you work, right? It’s like a, a dorm thing?” Kauri hesitates, knowing the question is stupid he knows he’s stupid about this, but… “Do you, uh… do you get a bed, to sleep on?”

"Yeah," Cass says, trying not to sound off-put by the question. At what point in this sad fuck’s story did he not get a bed? "Yeah, I get a bed." He frowns briefly at his food before looking up again with a smile. "Lumpy as fuck, though."

The joke feels stale before it even lands. It's not exactly consolation in comparison to a park bench.

Cass can feel the offer on his tongue, heavy and loaded, and it's so fucking stupid to say it but guests aren't technically banned or anything, just frowned upon and the guy would be sleeping on a park bench.

"Do you... I mean it's not exactly homey, but did you want to come back to mine?" He nearly lets a thousand caveats fall off his tongue like, we'd have to be quiet and you'll have to leave before 8 and by the way my minder might decide to drop in for a late night chat, you cool with that? But instead he grins the easy way. "Can't guarantee we'll do much sleeping."

Kauri can’t quite hide the way he brightens again at the suggestion, although he tries, trying to look cool and smooth and like he wasn’t at all sort of not looking forward to the way he inevitably got woken up on the bench by some jogger yelling at him to go get a job.

You can’t get a job with no ID when you’re fucking illiterate.

“If, if you just wanted me to sleep,” He says, making his tone a little flirty, with a hint of a lopsided, shy smile. “I’d be disappointed. I hardly take up any space when I sleep, I promise. I’ll be up and out of your hair, I’m not, um, I don’t try and stick around or anything. That’s… see, you are nice. You just tell yourself you’re not.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cass snorts. He leans forward conspiratorially, walking his fingers up Kauri’s arm as he speaks “How do you know this hasn’t just been some long play just to get you into my cult or something? Maybe once you go inside, you’ll never leave.”

Kauri shivers a little, moving his arm just slightly to make it easier for Cass, biting down on his lower lip with the same hint of a shy smile. The feeling of Cass’s fingers was like little sparks on his arm, and it felt like his touch lingered even after his fingers had moved. Kauri felt warm and cold all at once, heat starting to pool in his hips as he shifted around.

I am going to ride him until I can barely walk, after.

“You’re, um-” Kauri’s voice caught in his throat, and he cleared it, embarrassed. “That’s not fair, doing that in public.”

Cass smiles, tilting his to the side, feels it rush through him like an electric thrill even time the guy shudders like that. “Told you,” he murmurs “It’s a talent.”

He slips his fingers under the cuff of Kauri’s sweatshirt again, running little circles over his wrist. The guy is so responsive to touch it’s intoxicating. And Cass hasn’t even got him undressed yet.

It’s been ages since Cass has had the chance to play this role. He usually just melts into whatever the other person wants. He’s scrawny looking and gets flirty when he's high and he moves like a slut on the dancefloor, so recently that meant he pretty consistently landed himself in the role of desperate twink, ready to turn his brain off and let his partner take the lead. But this. This is what he likes, if he’s honest with himself. He likes seeing someone dissolve under his hands.

He smirks, pulling Kauri’s hand towards him and planting a kiss on his palm, “I could have you falling apart before we even leave the table, huh?”

Kauri’s fingers twitch, a little, with the urge to touch right back. It’s a familiar feeling, the need to touch, to be touched, to be reminded that someone wants him. It’s a more reassuring one that it doesn’t feel as desperate or worried as it sometimes does. This feels more like all of Kauri wants him, not just the parts that only know to want one thing.

It feels like wanting Dustin - almost safe. As close to safe as he gets.

“You’re about h-halfway there already,” He says, not quite a whisper, not quite speech. “What, um. I’m bad at this. What other talents do you-... no, that sounds stupid-... I’m so bad at it when I’m not, um, trying to be good at it, I don’t… please just-” He’s bright red. He can’t finish the sentence, not out loud.

Please just take me somewhere and fuck me.

#whump #recovering whumpees #collaboration #collab whump #original fiction #whumpiary #Cass the Disaster Lad #future kauri #erase to control #alternative universe #referenced past noncon #abusive relationship tw

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dramataste9 · 4 years ago

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I love reading books, and discover it sort of hot my personal partner truly does too. Performing that during sex together, then simply talking about what we’re studying, is a great intellectual switch-on. So with most due value to a lot of study workers, in this case, the channel is definitely not the meaning. What matters here is not really the gadget itself, yet the activity you’re engaged in, either jointly or separately. There can easily still be togetherness when a couple are on all their cell phones, just like there is once reading ebooks. The challenge occurs when usage of a gadget replaces something, or triggers a separation every time a point of connection could otherwise occur. Might associated with your telephones from bed mean even more sex? Could be. It might likewise lead to someone getting out of bed quicker in the day time, or perhaps sleeping sooner at night time. Even though we are in bed, did you know that throughout your phone, you can view videos? Or perhaps look at images of…. what ever it can be that arouses you? Or work with applications intended to foster dialog or recreation with a intimate spouse? The device is a instrument. It is present without natural judgment, characteristics or worth. What we label of it is up to us. Will i really need to let you know this? Naturally there are times when you must absolutely never touch the cellphone, beginning, naturally, with traveling. (Guilty as recharged: I often use the Maps software in the phone to help me receive where I am going. It’s not so straightforward, is it? ) I think faith based services must be device-free zones, as should certain spaces, just like gym bathtub rooms, where privacy needs to be respected. I have a distaste for people who use their very own phone at the gym; I don’t want to hear your business calls while I’m weight lifting. In the mean time, I realize a lot of persons using workout and work out applications on their telephones, demonstrating the issue, that again, these types of mini-computers inside our pockets will be what we label of them. Should you be among those folks who go to a show and insist upon recording video clips and taking photos the full time, My spouse and i ask how much of that is important. Taking enjoyment in the occasion for yourself, not merely through a gadget, is highly advised. But…. have got I ever before watched concert footage online taken by somebody else? Yes, I possess. A couple of years before I was at a basketball game with my Dad. I’ve been in the habit of checking Tweets during online games to follow along with the community of supporters and media to help improve my connection with the game, and know more about what was going on. And that’s just the thing for when watching in the home. However I had been there. My spouse and i didn’t want that community - I had been with twenty, 000 persons, and my father. Thus I put my cellphone in my pocket. I missed the discourse. I skipped the details of points I did not see because live, you miss a lot more than you think. Although I was capable of absorb inside the surrounding. I used to be able to speak with my Dad about what we believed would happen up coming. And later, at night, when we talked about the game, we all reflected in so many different occasions, details I might have overlooked had We looked at my own mobile phone even more. So almost always there is a trade-off. You will find instances when your smartphone can easily distract you. That frenzymadness, desperation, hysteria, mania, insanity, delirium, derangement can be a negative thing (when you should be chatting with a liked one) or maybe a good thing (when you’re sad and alone and want something to cheer you up). It can disconnect you (when you steer clear of another person by simply diving in to social media) or provide you with together (if you look up a joke to see or make use of your mobile phone to turn on music to boogie to). Shall we not hold our gadgets responsible for the human condition. Two people, lovers, let’s say, resting in bed. In a single moment, they are on their telephones, lost within their own planets. In the next, all their phones will be off, on the bedside table. What happens following? Nearly anything can occur. It is to the two people included. That is true whether you have your phone in your hand or perhaps not. Of course, if you do, you also choose how to use your phone: in a disconnecting way or possibly a sharing way. If you’re sense bad or guilty regarding being in your cellphone, guess what happens you should perform. You need to put your self-confidence in your instincts. Is without doubt critical to support the person holding the cellphone liable, do not fault the device.

#smatphones

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texanredrose · 8 years ago

Text

Aaaaaaand the Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU continues. I think I’m going to stick with the name ‘Queens of Vale’. It’s either that or keep calling it the Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU and that’s a lot to fucking type. Plus, the acronym makes me laugh too much. (I got you, FAMAU, lol, wtf is wrong with me.) So... yeah. Here ya go. Bonding shenanigans.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 (here) / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

A cold wind whipped through the trees, rustling bare branches and sending a few dead ones tumbling to the ground while dense grey clouds churned overhead, obscuring the sunlight and adding to the dreary feel of the day. In Atlas, such weather would be considered mild at worst and pleasant at best, a welcomed reprieve from the harsh storms that ushered in the cold season and brought snow up to one's knees and waist, but here in Vale, many residents took it as a sign that the winter would be severe, the children staying indoors while the adults bundled themselves in layers of clothing against the low temperatures. Smoke billowed up from every house in the village and a thinner column rose from the spot in the forest where the blonde's childhood home stood, but Weiss couldn't help but feel grateful they weren't inside.

Despite living in the warmer country for months, she could still feel the lingering effects from her homeland and opted for a much different ensemble compared to the others; she wore a simple, long sleeved white dress that brushed the tops of her shoes, the fabric split at the waist to allow ease of movement, and thin white pants to match, both with light blue around the hem and the little wooden ties fastened at her shoulder. Faintly- so much so she hadn't noticed herself until running her hands over the fabric- a dragon design was stitched into the dress with white thread, its tail curling around one ankle and wrapping around her waist, sweeping its way up so its neck slipped over one shoulder and the head rested over her heart. On her back, blue thread outlined her customary snowflake, and while the whole outfit was probably intended for spring or early fall, she couldn't help but relish the sharp bite of cold air filtering through the silk, a faint reminder of her home without the unwanted memories of cold, empty halls and even colder eyes.

Yang, on the other hand, looked like a knight in soft armor, bracing against the weather as best she could. Gloves and thick boots accompanied her heavy cloak and the extra tunic she wore under her vest, all dyed brown or a faded yellow, and Ember Celica's straps had to be loosened a hole to accommodate the extra padding. She even had the orange fabric Ember Celica usually rested upon while they slept wrapped around her neck and pulled up, the hood of her cloak down low to shield her face and leaving all but the sliver of skin around her eyes hidden away.

The weather had turned much colder in the days following their reconciliation, forcing the blonde out into the forest alongside her father and Ghira to help harvest the last of the wood needed before winter began in earnest. Weiss wasn't left without things to do, of course. She cleaned the house while the others were out, regaining her strength and endurance along the way, and she managed to find some old books that helped further her written Valen, the characters simple enough for her to copy and understand. When the three returned bearing bundles of wood bound by leather straps, she helped stack them by the house or took them into the village with her wife, passing them out to those who needed them. News of her recovery preceded her, with many of the villagers offering her little tokens and charms in addition to whatever they gave Yang as trade for the wood, and now she had a nice little collection of various trinkets beseeching the Fall Maiden's mercy arranged on the dresser where Myrtenaster rested. After their burdens were distributed, they returned to the little house while the sun began to set and settled in for the night. The Atlesian had insisted Yang write a letter to Blake before the Faunus returned to his kingdom, so Yang spent the time bent over a scroll, brush in hand as she tried to word her message without reflecting her lingering frustrations, while Taiyang and Weiss prepared dinner side-by-side, and Ghira regaled the lot of them with stories from Menagerie and his own versions of the Valen legends he'd learned when younger. Then, Taiyang would challenge her after dinner to the strange game of red and yellow pieces, their matches sometimes lasting late into the night and requiring them to wait until the following day to continue.

However, things had to change eventually, and the Faunus determined her fully recovered and left to bear the blonde's letter the previous day. One would think her wife would feel more at peace now that everything returned to normal, yet, Yang seemed more eager now than ever, rising with the winter sun and gently prodding her to leave the warmth of their bed.

"So, are you ready to train today?" She looked up, lilac eyes peeking out from under the hood. "I know it's not ideal conditions-"

"That can't be helped." The Atlesian feigned thoughtfulness as the wind picked up again, prompting Yang to turn her gaze skyward and watch the clouds for a moment. While the blonde was distracted, she studied the woman's posture, noticing she seemed far more relaxed now that they were back in the clearing. From what she could gather, it was the first time Yang had returned to the space since their reconciliation.

It still boggled her mind how the woman could be so adamant about being forgiven when she'd done nothing wrong but Weiss accepted that, in the end, it didn't really matter. The warrior bore her no ill will and promised to make amends when the Faunus princess next came to visit, so granting unnecessary forgiveness to put the events behind them seemed a small price to pay. Though, if she was brutally honest with herself, she rather liked how everything turned out; for as horribly as things might've gone, the Atlesian instead found herself looking at her wife in a new light.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way Yang had doted on her while she could hardly control her own body, tucking her in and lending her heat whenever needed, making sure she felt safe and grounded even while lost to the fog of her fever. Or how readily she consented to having her wound tended with just a pointed look or two, as if she felt absolutely no shame in letting the Atlesian treat her with the same care despite being a strong, decorated warrior. Then again, it could very well be the mental picture now stuck in her mind of the fearsome warrior hiding behind her while a harmless garden spider crawled across the floor that continuously struck her as... charming. It reminded her of the blonde's honest blush when confessing the meaning of her joke the night of their wedding ceremony, the open fury on her features while cursing the former King of Atlas for his transgressions against Weiss, the genuine alarm in her voice when she realized she'd fallen dead asleep while snoring loud enough to rattle the panes of the window in their bedroom- a very endearing sort of fallibility she appreciated more and more with every passing day.

It might be all those things, which culminated in the realization that Yang Xiao Long, warrior Queen of Vale, stood as exactly the opposite of what Atlas would consider a proper noble. She accepted her faults- especially the ones that only she thought of as such- she never failed to be open and honest, and it seemed her sense of fairness skewed in the favor of whoever she dealt with rather than herself. The novelty of it all still hadn't worn off. Weiss' father would have a heart attack were any child of his to act in a similar fashion.

Well, a daughter of Atlas she may be, but embracing a few of her new kingdom's customs seemed appropriate, and the one she wanted to exemplify today stemmed from that reassuring touch and warmth she'd felt while being thrown from one extreme to another, the genuine care with which the blonde had treated her when she was at her weakest. She wanted to repay that, and despite how calm Yang looked now, Weiss could still see the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers seemed a hair's breadth away from curling into fists. Every time they settled down for bed, she could feel the restless energy running through the blonde's frame.

It would be easier, she eventually decided, to burn off some of that energy before trying to discuss anything. "Where should we start?"

"We start with principles," Yang replied, tapping a finger against her temple. "Your semblance is part of you- your very spirit released and honed like any blade, but a sword's no good if the person holding it doesn't understand how it's meant to be used." The blonde looked around, shaking herself as if to ward off the chill in the air despite her layers. "Let's go through the forms as a warm-up."

She nodded, settling into her stance, dimly aware of Myrtenaster pressing against her hip. Wearing her weapon again after the few days of bed rest felt odd at first, like suddenly becoming aware of a limb that had fallen asleep, turning and flexing the newly rediscovered muscles until everything felt right again. Across from her, with about four feet between them, stood the blonde, mirroring her position. On an unspoken count, they began moving, flowing from one position to another as reflections. By this point, she didn't question which of them moved first- if she followed the warrior's lead or vice versa. The motions felt natural, repetition making them familiar despite the comparatively short amount of time she'd had to study them- methodical, measured, calming- and her breathing slowed to match the rhythm of each transition, finding comfort in the practice.

"Have I ever told you how good your form is?"

"You've called me beautiful before, yes," she replied, lifting the corner of her mouth in a smirk. "Or did you mean something else?"

Yang blinked, surprise shining bright in lilac orbs before she chuckled. "Oh, so someone has jokes, is that it?"

"I've learned more than just exercises and breathing techniques from you." Both of them slid from one pose to the next, shifting from being as fluid as water to solid as stone, then light as the breeze and, in brief flashes, quick as a flame. The forms corresponded with the Maidens- the guiding deities the Valens turned to- and the entire exercise emphasized how they worked together to create the whole. While she didn't personally subscribe to the religious connotations, Weiss could appreciate the story they wove. "Your teaching skills are superb, by the way. Perhaps I've mentioned that?"

"You have, but you forget: I have an excellent student." The blonde twisted her hips in time, so they stood side-by-side, and the two took steps forward in tandem while moving through the later forms.

Their feet brushed across the barren ground, any grass that might've once grown there long ago trampled by Yang's use of the clearing, each step muted in the cold morning air. They twisted and turned, following the poses until the final one, which brought them both back to center, once again standing across from one another, though... it certainly looked like they'd drifted closer, somehow.

Not that she was complaining, of course.

Together, they drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, allowing the tension to flow from their muscles, ready to begin the training in earnest.

"Can you feel your semblance?" Through her scarf, the blonde's breath came out as wisps of white fog, curling in front of her face like smoke. "Where is it?"

"Yes, it's..." Weiss closed her eyes briefly, acutely aware of the familiar chill thrumming through her body, at harmony with the cold of the season while remaining distinct. Ever since falling under the tea's sway, she'd been able to feel the cold within her easily, as if it couldn't quite retreat to wherever it hid before. However, right now she could feel a concentration of the internal energy resting in her chest, and she brought one hand up to hover over the point. "It's everywhere, but strongest here."

"That's great!" Her eyes sparkled like gems, conveying the mile wide smile currently hidden from view. "You've got the two most important parts down, then. First, you have to know what it is. Then, where it is." She lifted her arms, curling her hands into tight fists and allowing them to hover in front of her face. As she shifted to the balls of her feet, the air around her rippled, the cold driven back as steam began to rise off her clothes while lilac morphed into blood red. "It's a part of you, in every bone and muscle and your very skin, ebbing and flowing with every heartbeat, and controlling it is second nature, like breathing." The blonde threw a few jabs at the air- quick strikes that Weiss almost couldn't follow with her eyes- as her feet danced beneath her as she battled an imaginary opponent. As she drew near to one edge of the clearing, the warrior reared back, eyes sharpening to throw a punch aimed at a nearby tree that never actually made contact, heat rippling out from the points of her knuckles and somehow turning the withered bark black as the dried wood began to smoke and smolder. The Atlesian nearly stepped back in surprise; of all the times she'd felt the fire burning within her wife's soul, she'd never imagined it could manifest in such a destructive manner. All those reports- stories her father passed off as shaken soldiers allowing their imaginations to run wild- depicting the Queen of Vale as a dragonspawn wreathed in flame seemed much more accurate than before. After a moment, Yang drew back from the tree, taking another deep breath and releasing it slowly. "Your semblance is a weapon that needs only a thought to be drawn; if you know what it is and where it is, you can wield it with just as much ease as you move Myrtenaster." She chuckled, her stance relaxing. "After all, the best defense is a good offense."

Pale brows furrowed. "You mean, the best offense is a good defense."

"Uh... no?" The blonde chuckled nervously, obviously replaying the words in her head to ensure she'd said the right thing. Satisfied she hadn't misspoken, she coughed into her hand. "Is... that what you were taught?"

"Of course," she replied, absolutely certain of her answer. "For centuries, Atlas has faced threats from within and without our borders- the other, former nations of Mantle, the ferocious beasts that roam the remote regions, raiders and bandits- and we have maintained a strong standing army to defend ourselves against them. It's how my father unified Mantle when the civil war erupted."

A small pause followed her words where the other woman fidgeted, looking almost nervous and also a little confused. "Well, that... explains a lot." Brows creasing in concern, the Atlesian took a step forward, silently bidding her wife continue. "During the later parts of the invasion, Atlas' soldiers would land on Vale's shores and try to build fortifications, or turn our existing structures into ones." She spread her hands. "But this is our home and each one of us is capable of fighting. We outmaneuvered them, rendered their defenses useless, and struck when they were exhausted from the effort of trying to turn our own land into unfamiliar territory. We had no strong defense to speak of ourselves- no walls to hide behind- but every time Atlas soldiers mounted an attack, we met them with greater force and broke their ranks, turned their neat lines into chaos, and they couldn't recover." Lilac met blue briefly before being redirected towards the ground. "With an emphasis on defense, Atlas stands strong against invasions, like an aegis. But aggressive action requires the force and decisiveness of a blade's edge. The blunt strength of a shield can only do so much damage; it takes wielding it just right to get the same effect."

"I suppose you have a point. The other nations of Mantle had comparatively smaller forces than Atlas. We overwhelmed them; had the armies been evenly matched... I'm not sure we would've triumphed." She conceded, shoulders falling slightly at the reminder of her father's foolishness. "We truly stood no chance at successfully invading Vale, did we?" Immediately, she shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. "It doesn't matter. My former countrymen couldn't manifest their semblance the way Valens can, so I suppose it's a moot point."

"Well, there's still a lesson to be learned from that way of thinking. It all comes down to discipline, really." Yang stepped towards her, lightly laying her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders. "When I say 'the best defense is a good offense', I mean that drawing out your semblance is, in itself, an aggressive action. It's pulling a weapon that formerly hadn't been brought to bear out into the open, like unsheathing a blade. You might only use it to block or parry, but that's still your sword doing the work. Does that make sense?"

She bit her lip, looking down at the ground between them. "I... think."

"That's okay; it'll become clearer with time. It's just a mentality you're not used to," the blonde said, crossing her arms over her chest. "But, I think there's something inside of you that understands it on a deeper level. I caught a few glances your way while you dueled Blake; she couldn't break your defense and, when your semblance manifested, it acted as a shield, blocking Adam's attack. Now that I know how heavily your people emphasized defense, that makes sense- it's how you're naturally inclined to manifest your energy."

As much as it pained her to admit such, she couldn't quite take pride in that assessment. "She got very close a few times."

"Maybe, but 'very close' is as good as 'not', in that case. I can't tell you how many times I've almost had an ax or a sword slice into my throat, or an arrow embedded in my back." She held up a hand, keeping her thumb and forefinger just slightly apart. "Sometimes, only that much separates you from death- it's the difference between a missed attack and a killing blow."

She raised a brow at the word choice. It seemed strange to her, how easily Yang spoke of the dance with death. It reminded her of the difference between their homelands, how Atlesians looked at war as a grim but ultimately necessary tool to expand their nation's borders and defend against the 'barbaric' peoples of the world. Valens, meanwhile, thought of it as an integral part of life, another form of the eternal struggle between opposing forces. Day and night, light and dark, hot and cold- Taiyang had gone on at length about them while teaching her the encircling game but never in a negative light, as if such a thing shouldn't exist. It simply did. "I suppose it comes down to strength, then?"

"Or speed. Or skill. Or cunning." The blonde moved, holding both arms out wide before curling her hands into fists and bringing them up. The effect was lessened by the layers of clothing she wore but Weiss could still make out the bulges of hard won muscles straining against the fabric, drawing tight across her arms and chest, almost as if she might rip the very seams. "Strength is my approach of choice, obviously, but it doesn't have to be yours." She heard the smile in her wife's voice and continued staring long after both arms dropped. "You'll figure out how to wield the weapon once you have a firm grip on it, when you can feel its heft and balance for yourself. What matters is that you're decisive when wielding it and, unlike any other weapon, your semblance will never leave your hand; you can only be disarmed if you allow your spirit to be broken."

She met the warrior's gaze, brows pinching together, feeling as if Yang was talking in circles. "Then how do I draw it? How do I control it?"

"Easy." The warrior shifted her stance, moving her right foot back and raising both fists. "You need to tag me."

"Excuse me?"

"Tag me." She shrugged, a little lost as to how to explain. "You know. A punch, a slap- just get a hand on me somehow." Then she pulled down her scarf enough to flash a little grin. "And if you actually manage to knock me to the ground, I'll give you a kiss." Almost too quick to catch, something flashed across Yang's expression, eyes widening and her lips quivering before they pulled a little wider. A month or more ago, she might've been fooled, but Weiss could tell when her wife was faking cheer to keep others from being concerned by this point. She'd seen it enough during the journey back to Patch. "Or maybe breakfast in bed, or I can cook dinner one night? I'm a pretty good chef."

Ah, so that was it. Narrowing her eyes, Weiss settled into a stance of her own- a fencer's pose, the same discipline Yatsuhashi had taught her what seemed like a lifetime ago- with her left arm outstretched towards her opponent and her right curled into a fist at the small of her back. How he came by the knowledge escaped her but he taught her well and she wouldn't disappoint. After all, how different could a game of this 'tag' be from a duel? "I accept your challenge."

Lilac eyes brightened, her guard lowering ever so slightly to beckon her forward with both hands. "Alright. You have until lunch. Now, let's see what you got."

She didn't move, biding her time and analyzing the situation. Yatsuhashi had warned against such goads when first instructing her during the journey to Patch; he emphasized striking only when she felt ready, never allowing another to dictate her motions or else forfeit the battle before it began.

"From great wars to solitary duels- in the end, all conflict is decided by who retains control," he'd said, holding his large greatsword perfectly level with one hand. It stood as tall as he did, weighed more than she could carry, and gleaned under the fading sun like the strange, staggered pauldron that covered his off arm and functioned as a shield. "If you sacrifice control of self, you will never gain control of the conflict."

While this may not be as serious a battle, the test laid before her required her utmost attention, studying the way the blonde awaited her opening maneuver. Weight on the balls of her feet, hands up, her center of balance high and evenly dispersed. Bringing her down wouldn't be easy... but it was possible.

As the wind picked up, she rushed forward, darting her hand low to get beneath the woman's guard. She missed, the blonde skipping back a step and rolling to her right to dodge the obvious follow up swipe, and so they began their dance around the clearing. Weiss pressed forward relentlessly, trying to back the warrior into a tree, but just when she thought all avenues of escape were cut off, Yang would surprise her- jumping clear over her head accompanied by a blast of heat, sliding beneath her outstretched arm, stopping her momentum too quick for the smaller woman to do the same, steam streaming behind her in wisps. Always maintaining her balance, the upper hand, and always with that little grin in place- she was having fun as the Atlesian's frustration mounted. As the smaller of the two, one would think she could move quicker, change direction easier, but she found herself thwarted with every attempt. If she darted to the left, so would Yang, somehow anticipating her actions the moment she decided on them, remaining just out of arm's reach. Simply thrusting her arms forward never worked- the blonde would dodge to one side or another and skip a few steps away- and swinging horizontally or vertically produced similar results.

Defending was always the easier of the two sides to pick, in her opinion. Assess your weaknesses, decide if they should be strengthened or intentionally weakened to draw in the enemy, and keep your greatest strength a closely guarded secret. When attacking, one had to be ruthlessly efficient, because the opponent would capitalize on every mistake, every extra bit of expended energy gone to waste, and Weiss could feel the sweat dripping from her brow as they continued variations of the same dance all over the clearing, with her wife sometimes ducking behind trees to create distance. Her breath started to burn her lungs, begging her to stop, but she pressed forward, pushing aside everything; she would not be so easily defeated.

Through it all, Yang was careful, never using her forearms to block or redirect the Atlesian's momentum. The metal of her cestus gleamed in the weak light of the sun peaking through heavy clouds, the barbs designed to catch blades and shred skin never coming even close to Weiss. If anything, the blonde seemed to keep her arms up out of habit, muscle memory burned too deep to be set aside despite the obvious effort made to merely duck and dodge rather than counterattack. Theoretically, it should've made the warrior's movements more predictable, easier to gauge, limiting her in reactions and freeing her opponent to go all out in pursuit of her goals.

Reality, however, proved her wrong at nearly every turn.

The longer the exercise went on, the heavier she breathed, not used to nearly so much movement and just a week past being on bed rest. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, each breath scorching as she sucked it in, trying desperately to catch just the fabric of her wife's vest if nothing else, but even that eluded her. For her part, Yang seemed a bit amused, her smile never dimming and her breathing not nearly as labored despite the sheen of sweat collecting on her face, bangs becoming plastered to her forehead.

Finally, her frustration mounted, and she realized the only way she would possibly win this little game would be to force the blonde to react to a move she didn't plan to make. She would have to change her momentum before her wife could register it; she had to rely on not just speed but her ability to misdirect. With her plan firmly set in mind, Weiss lunged to her right, and the other woman, of course, broke the other way. Then she did it again, and again, until they were circling the clearing in an odd shape, straight jagged lines cut every time the Atlesian struck towards the right and her quarry skipped away. In those lilac eyes, she could see that Yang knew what she planned- had to, she'd done nothing to hide it- and seemed ready to break to the right the moment she gave an indication that she would switch her pattern.

She lifted her left hand, clearly expressing her intent, and her wife read it immediately, shifting her weight to break back towards the Atlesian's right, but waiting for her to commit first. Which she did, beginning her lunge to the left, prompting Yang to move the other way. However, that first change in direction brought with it a slightly shorter back step, something she'd noticed throughout the exhausting exercise. In that moment, her resolve solidified, the cold energy within her pushing out and invigorating every muscle, and Weiss capitalized on it, jumping back to her right and throwing herself forward.

Lilac eyes widened in surprise as the woman's arms immediately went behind her, preparing to break their fall, because while she'd finally figured out how to beat the warrior at her game, she didn't quite take the most graceful option. Her shoulder slammed into the blonde's chest, both of them going to the ground as neither could keep their balance, landing with her wife flat on her back and Weiss somewhat curled up on top of her.

The warrior groaned, raising a hand to her head where she'd hit the ground hard, prompting the smaller woman to push herself up using her arms. "Yang? Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She chuckled, smiling up at the Atlesian. "I knew you could do it."

Puffing out a breath, Weiss shook her head, sitting up and just barely registering that she now effectively straddled the woman beneath her before she spoke. "As amusing as it may be to you, I'm not sure what it accomplished." She crossed her arms over her chest, surprised to find that she wasn't gasping for air, a stark contrast to hardly a minute ago. She felt a little tired, perhaps, but her muscles weren't complaining and her breath came even and steady. Strange. "But I expect to receive my reward regardless." A pause followed as she weighed her words, looking down into her wife's lilac eyes before speaking. "You promised me a kiss."

They hadn't spoken about it. Noble Atlesian wedding ceremonies carried few traditions outside of the giving of gifts, the exchanging of rings, and the eventual bedding; frankly, more concern was given to the seating of guests and displaying the proper heraldry than the ceremony itself. Vale, in contrast, had many nuances to their unions- the burning of incense, the chanting of the soothsayer, the exchanging of weapons, and on the list went- but physical affection... well, in the kingdom across the sea, the bedding itself served as all that would be required on that front, aside from the necessary task of providing heirs. In Vale, she couldn't tell. The villagers of Patch seemed affectionate, often exchanging kisses in greeting or farewell, giving hugs freely to family members and friends, and sometimes the children would even run through the streets and latch onto whatever adult didn't have their hands full.

But Yang didn't push one way or another. She initiated some contact, yes- brief embraces to comfort, chaste kisses to the top of her head to reassure, a lingering touch on her arm for guidance- but never asked for anything to be reciprocated, and Weiss certainly hadn't taken the lead.

Except when they were sleeping. The night of their bedding, she'd allowed her wife to hold her, telling herself that it was only for the practicality of the position- to keep the dreaded snoring at bay- but the night her wife returned to the bedroom with her eye nearly cut to the bone and swollen shut proved otherwise. While the blonde slept, she'd gathered her courage and laid down beside her, curling around the solid warmth and pressing a soft kiss to Yang's forehead, even as she began to snore. She'd already spent enough time acutely aware of how empty the bed felt without her wife and hoped the woman wouldn't begrudge her the comfort. Which she didn't, initiating their usual contact upon waking, and the sleepy apology that followed never failed to pull a small smile from her whenever she thought of it.

So, this would be new- a new challenge to overcome, a new boundary to test. With luck, perhaps it would chase away those lingering agitations that plagued the woman. Even if it didn't... she felt like it was a step they'd take eventually. Might as well test the waters now, to better prepare herself later.

Surprise showed plain in the blonde's face, which was almost immediately overtaken by a broad grin. "Yeah, I did. But first..." One brow raised. "How did you change direction without touching the ground?" Thrown off by the question, the Atlesian looked towards the spot, expecting to see some mark from where she'd pushed off- because she did touch the ground, had to, in order to push off with enough force to cut Yang off and then spring forward- but instead found the fading remnants of her family sigil, the white snowflake slowly breaking apart and disappearing into nothingness. She stared, mouth popping open as her jaw went slack, confused as to how she'd managed to conjure such a thing without thinking. "Using your semblance is second nature, like breathing." As Weiss continued staring, the woman beneath her shifted, pushing herself up into a sitting position without forcing the Atlesian from her lap. "But you breathe subconsciously long before you're able to control it."

She remembered how the cold spread through her in an instant, her own soul surging in response to her plan, ensuring that the moment she needed to move, she could. Decisive, the blonde had called it, an aggressive action- now she understood that Yang hadn't meant that she should focus on attacking someone to draw it out. The energy within her could be both sword and shield, and even more- it could take whatever form she needed. Right then, she needed something solid to push off of, and her chi immediately provided that, just like it blocked the bull horned Faunus what seemed like a short lifetime ago. It functioned as an extension of her will just like Myrtenaster served as her arm.

"I... I did that." She spoke out of awe more than disbelief, yet the edges of her voice lilted just slightly, almost indicating a question.

"Of course you did." Then the blonde moved, leaning forward and pressing her lips to one pale cheek while Weiss' gaze remained focused on the slowly dissipating snowflake, which winked out of existence the moment she realized what was happening. She stiffened at first, surprised, but realized that she should've expected such- Yang would take whatever option demanded the least from the other woman- and relaxed, waiting for the blonde to draw away before turning her head. At first, lilac eyes stayed hidden beneath her sweat slicked bangs, her head tilted down. "I knew you could."

"Thank you," she replied, gently slipping a hand beneath her wife's chin and coaxing her gaze up. When their eyes met, she could see the faint blush in the warrior's cheeks and it curled her own lips into a soft smile. For a moment, she thought about leaning forward and initiating a kiss herself- it would only take a few inches- but something held her back. A chiding tutor's voice echoing in the back of her mind, chastising her for giving those peasant fancies a passing thought, saying such public displays were uncouth, unseemly, and barbaric.

Something must've shown- or perhaps nothing did, but the warrior Queen was always extremely perceptive- because Yang raised a hand, cupping the cheek she'd just kissed and allowing her thumb to slide towards pale lips. "Next time?"

Lilac met blue, the remainder of the words left unspoken but understood regardless. "Next time."

"Okay." Through the brightening of her blush, the blonde's smile stretched wide. "How about we take a break?" Weiss nodded, carefully extracting herself and offering a hand to help the other woman up, leaning back to act as a counterbalance to the warrior's superior weight. Upon standing, Yang took a step back and curled her right hand into a loose fist, laying her left over it and bowing her head, motions which the Atlesian quickly copied, having temporarily forgotten how the Valens ended their friendly sparring matches since her last bout with Yatsuhashi. When they straightened up, the blonde stepped forward and carefully put a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding them towards a small bundle she'd brought with them. "I, uh, packed us a lunch."

"When?" Not that Weiss wasn't grateful, seeing as she'd suddenly become aware that all that exertion had worked up her appetite. She'd chased her wife around the clearing for hours, the sun now high overhead despite being obscured by the clouds. "We left so quickly this morning..."

"Last night, while you were bathing." Yang cleared her throat, almost seeming like she had more to say but instead turning her attention to the package, revealing two bowls with rice and two more filled with steamed dumplings, plus two little bottles.

"You brought wine to training?"

"I brought it for celebration." The blonde smiled wide, sitting down and crossing her legs. Her wife invited the Atlesian to join her, which she did, tucking her legs beneath her and accepting one set of bowls and a bottle of the sweet rice wine. Although she couldn't drink it with the same enthusiasm the warrior did, she'd grown a bit fonder of it over the past few months. "I had a feeling you'd be able to get the hang of it before we stopped for our first break." She chuckled. "You're too stubborn to have quit before then."

Weiss brushed some dirt from her knee before opening the bowl with the dumplings, picking one out with her chopsticks and holding it a moment to raise a brow at her wife. "I might've passed out."

"Then it would be a pick-me-up when you regained consciousness!" Yang teasingly clicked her sticks together before starting on her bowl of rice.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Ever the optimist."

They ate in silence a while, the heat from their activities protecting them from their cooling sweat. With just the clinking of wood against ceramic and the wind blowing through the dead trees, she had plenty of time to consider her next actions carefully. Now seemed to be as good a time as any to address her concerns, both of them in high spirits after making such progress, but... was it wrong for her to want to hold onto that feeling a little longer? Surely she could put things off another day or two without any detriment. She didn't want to come off as intrusive- her wife continued to be patient and respectful of her every wish, and it would only be fair for her to be the same- yet she'd also promised to be more forthcoming on the things that plagued her mind, and this certainly had over the past few days. Curiosity mixed with a bitter sort of understanding- she didn't expect to be surprised by the answers she sought yet still felt inclined to ask.

Shouldn't she just leave the matter alone?

"Is something on your mind?" She looked up, now aware that her contemplative silence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I... have a question, actually." Yang tilted her head, enough of an indication for her to continue. "Who is Summer?"

She didn't expect a particular reaction, aside from either remorse or anger, but braced herself anyway.

What she got... troubled her.

#Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU #Queens of Vale fanfic #Freezerburn #TRR writes

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