♱ THE CITY BLEEDS.

now close those eyes, and let me love you to death.

[lesalut]

♱ ─ ⊹ ⊱ RULES & MUSE LIST & PROMPTS & INTEREST CHECK.

VIDEO GAME RP MULTIMUSE -> featuring characters from various games, gacha, visual novels, and animation. multifandom. beloved by orion, he/they, 25+. crossover & original character friendly. sporadic activity, full-time work + chronically ill, i'm a slow writer—please understand this before interacting! PROSHIPPERS & MINORS DNI.

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extremely private  &  selective. i favor emotional / story driven threads & tend to write novella-length. one-liners just aren't my usual vibe. i hardblock to unfollow so i don't accidentally re-follow someone. personals can follow, but please don't reblog / comment on my threads and headcanons. be respectful!

BYF [ . . . ] if you do not specify a muse, i will not write with you. filling out my interest checker is optional, but i can't read minds—help us both out! i'm slowly reaching out to more people, but i'm still really shy. please, please be patient with me, i promise i'm not ignoring you. i love, love, love crossovers, and i can adapt or help you adapt to any setting! if you have any questions regarding any of my muses especially given some of their small fandoms, please don't hesitate to ask! i love to yap!

♱ ─ ⊹ ⊱ : DEEP OF THE ATLANTIC, DARK, DREAMING, SLEEPING ... deeply affiliated with @fckurselfie (♡) ♱ ─ ⊹ ⊱ : BLOGROLL ... @londonfallen & @lesalut

[fckurselfie]

𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕, / fluffy "can" sentence starters

it's all a little novel, experiencing something like adoration from someone wearing handsome jack's face ; he's thought that since the day their group had picked timothy up, and it'd never really ... gone away, per se, so much as the separation 'tween who timothy and jack were, or are, had just been something he'd been forced to sit with over weeks stuck traveling together. not by his choice, initially ... can't say he isn't glad for the company, now. feels less like he's jumping at the shadow of a dead man, when he reaches a more sentimental truth he can't avoid — he's spent more time in timothy's company than he had trapped with jack's ghost, and only one of them he's come around to not minding running their mouth while he listens quietly by his side. it's easier to see someone as their own person, he supposes, when the devil haunting their shared narrative had never met him in the flesh to begin with.

that's the real irony, rhys figures. ' timothy lawrence ' is a lot closer to the hero he'd dreamt of meeting one day, and becoming himself when that delusion had been shot and buried. he watches him now with his chin perched 'gainst his hand at the table, his own expression carefully stoic. it's really not that often they get the caravan to themselves save the times fiona sets out with the others while he holds down the fort for once. he doesn't mind the rest, really. he does mind the silence ; he's grateful when someone else fills it.

guess it falling over them again is a little bit his own fault. he used to be a pretty good talker ... now he's more of an observational type, his attention having been stuck on timothy's eyes for a good amount of his babbling 'til it'd wound down to an awkward laugh. his features are a lot softer than jack's ... getting too close makes him realize why he wasn't very great at his job, how mouse - y he can be aside. it isn't just that he has freckles subtly lining the edges of his mask or how messy his hair's grown out — he looks sweet.

as rhys raises his free hand, elbow propped 'gainst the table, he spreads the metal fingers out in invitation, palm facing upward for the other to take. there's no point keeping him in anxious waiting for the silence to get broken again. he's only mildly surprised, when timothy's gets to it before he does.

@lesalut / ❛ can i kiss you? ❜

" — yeah, timothy." maybe his response seems a little lazy, subdued as he tends to come off these days. it's not like he remains void of all expression. there's a little bit of a curl to his lip, but his hand 'gainst his cheek moves to briefly wrap his fingers 'round the bottom of his face to hide it ... so in the end, it just looks like his brows furrow in attempt to hold it back. it's the closest he'll get to letting his own amusement slip ; timothy can be real ... formal with things like this, he's noticed. he knows he's just trying to be respectful, but that doesn't make it any less ridiculous. after the first, what, ten times? after the first few go - arounds at it, rhys would figure the permission would just be unspoken. oh, well. guess chivalry isn't entirely dead, or something. "go for it."

[lesalut]

all of this is more than he could have anticipated. for once, at least so far as he's been able to draw comparisons to the rest of his life—not in a bad way, or an immediately traumatizing one. there are very clear distinctions between both of those margins that make a stretch of time as objectively peaceful as this feel ... significant. to that end, he's grateful. and how couldn't he be? he couldn't have expected anything like this, nor would he ever, ever thought to ask after it in a million years after everything both he and rhys have been subject to by the hands or consciousness of handsome jack. if he had come to expect anything, he sort of figured his ... everything might make everyone else a little more wary—and they had been! but never for as long as he figured those feelings would linger, and for rhys especially ... well, he's a sweet guy. in his own way.

no one's more surprised than himself when it comes to how close they've grown since their little crew came and saved him. he's made that abundantly clear : from his reaction to their first kiss and every one after, to how baffled he was by their generosity. good things here so often came with a catch, he'd learned—or thought he learned. so far, no one's ever asked him anything beyond carrying his own weight, and even then, it'd in part come at his own insistence ... they're on friendly terms now, this much out, but the biggest shock had always come at how close he and rhys had come to be. not lovers, exactly, but maybe something like it. being close to him makes him feel at ease, even when the space between them falls silent, leaving him with little more than a gaze a bit too tender for ' just friends ' to have, and a hastening heartbeat rushing behind his ribs.

he actually can't remember a single thing they were talking about, before the question came fumbling out. which is humiliating to think about, but ... he's trying not to—the effort has to count for something, to earn him the soft crinkle in rhys' gaze and his invitation. it's really such a shame their prosthetics make it so there's no warmth shared when he reaches his own hand out to take it, fingers slotting gingerly into the space 'tween his own. it's still nice, though, even if only in theory. he can chase that warmth elsewhere : with his other hand as he inches closer, raising it to draw along rhys' cheek instead—in part to coax his other hand away from his lips. all he really succeeds in is lacing those fingers together too. he's not complaining.

" thank you. " maybe he should be embarrassed by how breathless his voice sounds—or for how eager he is, or for how often they've done this at all that he still thinks he needs to ask for one stupid reason or another ... part of it is simply nature, he knows ; where both their lines have been crossed too many times over, he understands more than well enough just how much it matters to pay mind to them ... but another part of him, only slightly stronger, just kind of likes the energy of it. the explicit permission is enough to make his heart race a little faster ... and he likes the feeling of when his fingers curl into his own in quiet anticipation. closing the space feels more like a reward, than something just to take.

he doesn't hesitate. it can't be more than seconds that pass between them, and even then, only to pull him in to meet him halfway—he's confident in very little, but where his confidence does come in full is how easy it feels to melt into him. his eagerness doesn't make him any less gentle, either ; each kiss slow, short, yet distinctly soft despite how quickly he'd taken to pulling him in to begin with. if this is how things are going to be from now on, he thinks he can get used to this.

[fckurselfie]

Why are you still here? I mean, you could go anywhere. Be with anyone. - kalechai

heavy question, that. it's not depressing, at least not to him ... but he has a feeling it's deeper than the threads of optimism chai has made home in for someone like kale vandelay ; ostracized from his family, hidden away from the public, forced into the company of a man he hates with every fiber of his being. well, hated. he doesn't think he does anymore, honestly. not that he'd point that out right now, before he consider kale ready to hear it.

so he just glances up from the music sheet he'd been doodling on, his legs tucked up onto the chair with him. he'd made himself comfortable without invitation and without welcome more times than he can count in this man's ivory tower ... today's no different, save for a more somber atmosphere that hangs over them. he's only somewhat surprised to see kale actually watching him from where chai had set up a little enrichment corner for roxanne's once - heir, now - prisoner to do literally anything in. chai had filled it with books, parts to tinker with, a record player, anything to try to get him to do something other than just sulk all day.

no one else was going to, after all.

"you have a lot of faith in my capability to rizz up men if you've gotten the impression i could ' be with anyone ' ... does that mean you're calling me charming?" his lips quirk with his tease, but he's not brushing off how serious the question seems to be. he doubts kale would voice this is he had any even slight fear that chai would mock him for it. that being the case ... he doesn't joke any further than that. "the answer's kinda complicated. it's not just ... one thing that keeps me here. like, my life revolving around vandelay properties right now isn't 'your fault,' i guess? i don't really want you taking that on as some weird guilt, like i'm your responsibility. the truth is i don't have anywhere else to go. i don't have a family, i don't really have friends, i can't go back to college because i can't play music with my arm like this ... "

he raises his prosthetic, the one steadying his book — it's his dominant arm, evident in how he'd used is this entire time. the doodles he's making on the sheet are crooked at best, and hardly even shapes at their worst. he's trying to learn to write with his non - dominant arm. he'd never just been sitting there doing nothing on days like this.

" ... i've probably lost my scholarship after being absent so long, anyways. but, you know ... it's also because you wouldn't be there, even if i did have somewhere to be. i've never had people who, like, stayed in my life after i met them ... i love you, and i like peppermint and everyone else. i don't want to go. the idea of leaving is ... " his nose wrinkles and, briefly, his sunnier disposition starts to cloud over. he looks back down at his paper with all its curvy lines, the makings of someone incapable of holding a pencil still anymore. better than it had been months ago. still not perfect. "i would miss you. i think leaving would actually break my heart, or something. i don't want to be with anyone, i want to be with you."

@lesalut

[lesalut]

the question is hardly without purpose. unlike him, chai does have someone—or someones—to turn to had he be in want of companionship, at least in theory. he'd watched them, the entirety of their back and forth pursuit of one another ; so much as he was able, save the frequent occasions throughout camera feeds would drop, and news slowed the closer they came to ascending the great tower that made up vandelay industries. where one by one, his fellow associates fell to the strength of a defect and his merry band of misfits. it's hard not question his reasoning, then ; where as far as friendship is concerned, chai has him beat out by miles. any one of them would make better companionship than what little kale's provided—it's a recent development that he'd only started really engaging in conversations like this.

weeks spent ignoring him hadn't changed anything ; perhaps, he'll relent, some not insignificant part of him hopes this might. his being here has started to become more familiar than not, and he hasn't exactly decided how he feels about that yet.

" do you think everything i say to you is meant to cater to your ego? " his exasperation is always short-lived, compared to the apparent talent the other man makes in taking all of his moods in stride. he doesn't even flinch 'gainst the slight scowl that curls his lips, but then, kale isn't exactly giving him reason to ... he's taken to watching him from across the way—at first, even if his attention to all he'd been gifted is non-committal at it's best. poked and prodded, occasionally picked up ; never entertained. " it certainly looked like you had quite a few friends when it was you and peppermint decided to orchestrate your grand takedown. i'd be surprised if you told me you happened to fall out of contact. " though that would be in his sister's nature, to leave them all behind. with someone this adamant on maintaining his attention though ... he's his personal doubts it'd ever be that easy to weasel out away from his regard. that all being said, he's a feeling it's a bit more complex than that—how subconscious an effort it is to walk over 'til he's left standing partway behind him, one hand pressed up 'gainst the back of the chair to hold his weight. " oh, trust me. the last thing you are to me is a responsibility. " it's the rest that brings him a real sense of pause, silencing himself as he lets him speak. his lips press thin as his gaze falls over the open book—the shaky lines, and the hand they're connected to. then, him. his acknowledgement comes as a quiet hum. strangely, the sound feels just the slightest bit contemplative, however little the rest of his expression suggests. " ... mm. "

truthfully, it surprises him. not that he thinks chai had ever lied to him, not without reason to—though he's reason to believe he wouldn't anyway, how brazenly he admits to everything else—but there's a degree of candidness that still feels ... unexpected. " that's a first, " this is where he settles, voice kept uncharacteristically somber as his attention gradually turns back wholly to him, " not your long line of misfortunes. however recently it is it seems your luck seems to have shifted ... rather, i mean more along the lines of missing my company. usually i'd imagine people to have more of a reaction along the lines of a sigh of relief. nothing i've done here since i've been trapped in the confines of my own home has been incredibly entertaining, and i know how i've treated you. " however on purpose it was, he knows it's cruel : ignoring someone trying so hard just to bond with him. he hadn't given him the chance. this is a step forward, in it's own way, no matter how slow the process. the few moments the silence sits, he takes upon himself to wander back 'round him, only for the sole purpose of pulling the adjacent seat closer, settling into it without second thought, hand cupping his chin with his fingers left only somewhat covering his mouth—as if the motion does anything to mask the genuine curiosity he meets him with. " i suppose what i'm getting at is just wondering how you aren't ... tired of it? surely it'd give you some peace of mind, being surrounded by a more amicable crowd. "

[hugdog]

WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO BE SAD ABOUT?

[fckurselfie]

getting back home had taken a lot longer, it felt like, than the exhaustion that had settled over him when he'd fallen into bed afterwards the night prior — he'd have thought waking up with someone else's weight heavy overtop him would've been startling, or maybe even smothering ... it's oddly comforting, turns out. more than he'd have pegged it to be, considering whose company it is he's lovingly kept ; timothy really can't remember the last time he could even recall not waking up alone. he wouldn't be forgetting this.

to some degree, it'd just been a bit of a half - hearted joke to break the thick, awkward ice surrounding the two of them ... even though he largely suspects it to be one - sided anyways. his humor's always been off-kilter, a result of his lacking confidence more than any desire for a laugh. he's only marginally surprised when jack gives him a real answer, and the wilted smile he wears as he shifts a bit 'neath the man's body is embarrassed at best. he doesn't have much wiggle room, when he's caught in an embrace bordering possessive ... he makes the most of what he can to sink back further, though, gaze tearing 'way up towards the ceiling. just so he can focus on anything other than how vulnerable he's feeling right now.

not even awake for twenty minutes, and he's already started flustering him. the worst part is that he knows it isn't even intentional. he's seen jack act with intention. this might just be pure, genuine affection at its rawest. rare sight, that. most of the last day or so could be clocked as such, if not the last ... month, or several. the build-up to last night had been so gradual, he can't even pin it down. the things jack says, he wonders if he's the only one who hadn't noticed.

"hmm." he hums, but it's a brief acknowledgement. he doesn't indicate one way or the other recklessly — the truth is, timothy's kind of hard to read when it comes to his emotions. he thinks he understands that, sometimes, and how uneasy it can accidentally make others feel ... but he doesn't do it on purpose. his expressions are always soft, a bit too miniscule for what his job should've been ... he's not a loud person. the only implication he's lost in his head and thinking at all is the way his lucky hand tangles 'round strands of jack's hair comfortably, wrapping along the length of his fingers 'fore letting it fall loose again. it's an absent gesture, and a gentle one. his other arm just stays sprawled along the empty space unoccupied by either of them to his side, half - tangled in blankets he'd tried to throw off at some point. all very domestic, this kind of thing. guess they get to skip the whole morning shame thing ; not that shame's the word he'd use. he just feels shy.

jack's body feels warm along his own, right down to his face buried 'gainst his neck. the glance timothy spares him is short 'fore he realizes he really can't handle eye contact right now anyways and ends up turning his head away. he's always considered himself more of a wallflower than a class act, right — being the center of someone's attention like this is way too overwhelming. "i don't, uh ... i don't really, you know, sleep around at work, jack ... or, like, uhm, at all. ever, actually." his laughter then is listless, like he's already kicking himself for speaking. truth is, nothing he says in this scenario would ever sound ' good ' to him. he's in way too over his head right now. so self - conscious, he hardly thinks to question jack's own demeanor. too soft for a man who usually burned so brightly ; maybe he only catches some of it, the other's restlessness. he's bashful, but not stupid. "i mean, i ... do ... want it to change things. it's just, i'm ... how do i put it? i'm kinda out of my league, here." so says the man with handsome jack wrapped around him trailing fingertips 'neath his back. that's the thing about anxiety, he guesses. doesn't really have to make sense. "when i said i didn't think i'd get this far, i, uh, really meant it. 'till recently i kinda ... ? i dunno, thought maybe you hated me? i mean. i guess you still could. i just, uh, i'm a little presumptuous in thinking ... prooobably not ... ? yeah ... " he needs to shut up, so very badly. some things do not change. "i'm kinda just trying to say ' me too ' ... but i'm really bad at quitting while i'm ahead."

[lesalut]

the only awkward part that follows sleeping together at work is the process of redressing with the knowledge in under an hour flat, their clothes would be stripped from them all over again, for one reason or another—just feels like a waste of time, really, more than it is anything to be ashamed of ; a reminder of what all could've been planned a little better if they just weren't so damn impulsive. out of everything, that's the only thing that jack thinks he could possibly find complaint for, and it matters so little compared to the ecstasy following a dream fulfilled that he'd struggle to even think of it had he not indulge his frequent spirals. though even those in the moment struggle to dig in their hooks, when his thoughts 'stead swirl so tenderly now.

he's sure it's temporary to some capacity. the high following the culmination in getting everything—at least for such a significant amount of time—that he could have ever wanted, but he fully intends to savor it while it lasts. and that's what makes laying here so easy ; why even with the faint twinge of anxiety that he feels sink into a shallow pit in his stomach, he's mostly able to ignore it in favor of lesser affections. tracing his fingers 'long the curve of his back takes no effort on his part, nor beg him to move from the comfortable space he's sunken into, caught evenly between the warmth of the other man's body beneath him and the plush mattress his side falls against. what little he has to tilt his head to press a faint trail of kisses 'gainst his neck takes somehow even less effort than that. it all comes naturally, just as it had when timothy first caught his jaw in between his palms and first closed the distance.

that isn't to say he isn't nervous ... he definitely is. how happy he is to be here might just be strong enough to outweigh it, though, stilling his nerves 'fore they've a chance to really start. which is all he can really ask for, especially with how he acts : two decades is a lot of time to get to know a person, or it would be, had they spent the whole of those years actually getting into the details. jack knows where his faults lie then, how it hardly matters how many kisses he presses to his skin when he still can't quite make out the intricacies in his expression ; the soft knit in his brow, nor the wistfulness in his expressions married with how gently his fingers card through his hair ... it feels like wanting—just different from how he's used to. quieter.

" you know, funny thing that, me neither. never really got the appeal in casual sex, if i'm being honest. " he snorts, burying his face at first a little further 'gainst his neck to stifle the sound of his quiet laughter before he lifts his head again, shifting what little he needs to rest his cheek more comfortably 'gainst him instead. either way, he's practically left grinning against the slope of his shoulder, so very little actually changes. " definitely probably had a couple opportunities—i mean, hello? but, euh ... i just want the real deal. that knocks a hell of a lot off the table for a whole lot of people when you start asking for commitment. " it's not even that he's trying to brag for once, but he knows his position in life ; it almost comes as an inevitable a few chances would arise, doesn't mean he's ever felt inclined to act on them. but it isn't a traditional restraint that's ever bound him, nor the scandal ... clearly not, considering the two of them—but for all his flaws, he's a loyal heart. he couldn't fathom a time where he'd ever give up the chance for a real dream come true moment in favor of an easy fling. " don't get me wrong, i get it. not everybody wants to get married, have kids, whatever—it's none of my business. but i just can't see myself going through all the effort of a relationship if one of us is left unhappy ten, twenty years down the line. i just don't wanna worry about it. "

it's what he says next that actually manages to surprise him, enough to unravel himself just enough to tug one arm out from under him and position it in the slim, empty space next to his head to prop himself upright just to look at him head on, expression twisted in a startingly genuine bewilderment. " hated you? are you out of your freakin' mind? " if it was rude to stare this wide-eyed, it must be even moreso how quickly soon after he nearly bursts into laughter, head bowing forward 'gainst his own chest even as he shakes it in immediate disapproval. " i've literally never hated you. not even for a second. god knows no one ever heard me shut up about you—or how you were doing, or whatever else. spent a quarter of my life wondering if you were even into men. " well, at least they're skipping the awkward stages this way. it doesn't take him long to collect himself, not when he's any tension to shed to begin with. when his laughter quiets down to little more than soft huffs, that's when he softens most. there's very little other ways to describe how he looks at him then, beyond pure adoration. " not the point. what i'm getting at is just ... so, let's change things. whatever you want, doll. "

[lesalut]

a kiss muffled by laughter in a library, hidden away among the shelves. -> kalechai back on the vandelay campus aha 🥹 ...

chai never makes it so they've a tame outing together now, does he? but it's unfair to place all the fault 'pon him, as if the ex-heir is anything other than provocateur when it comes to chai's more rebellious habits. oh, kale has changed since the day they met, again when they first dedicatedly called themselves a couple : but whether for better or worse might be more subjective than he's willing to admit, for now. what isn't up left for debate is how this is assuredly the most rebellious he's ever been—and likely ever will be, in his entire life. half of the antics he's wound up in while not at all by his own design were at bare minimum not at all discouraged, and however much it is he might sneer or scowl or complain, it's very rarely as if he's left an unwilling participant. this is on the tamer end of the spectrum when it comes to adventures he's been whisked away on, but it's certainly still ... well, adventurous. especially for him, how concerned he is for his own image ; even if less so, these days. it'd make for a wonderful bit of gossip, anyway.

he can't remember the last time he'd even set foot on the vandelay campus for anything unrelated to work, if he ever had. much less if he'd ever been inside it past general reconstruction or professional tours—the details are hazy, then, with chai half leading him further into the winding mess of tall shelves into some of the library's lesser-lit corners, and it'd been kale's own job to make them look as casual as possible. for his behavior, anyway : no stumbling steps, or exasperated sighs when he'd eventually caught on to his intention—chai had taken care of the rest, ensuring his own appearance wasn't so stuffy. not that they wouldn't draw attention either way, the once-ceo and the celebrity. what could they really do?

it's incredibly easy to let himself be pulled along, when he's no intention of resisting him, even if there's a sliver of embarrassment left caught behind his chest—somewhere behind the thrill—when chai's footfalls finally stop, and there's little left between their pause and when kale feels his hands clamor to capture his jaw between them, yanking him forward to catch his lips halfway as his back falls against the bookshelves. similarly, it's incredibly easy to just give in, when he finally decides to stop fighting against his impulses 'stead of acting upon them. chai might kiss him first, but kale presses back harder.

there's little he needs to actually do to in way of deepening it. his arms wind 'round him easily, one harshly against his back, while his other lifts just far enough to slide against his jaw, pushing 'long the slope of it slowly 'til his fingers find themselves tangling in his hair the more he lets himself melt against the warmth of his lips. there's never a moment this doesn't feel good, one kiss after another with hardly any chance given 'tween them to catch their breath—but there's some appeal in those few seconds between, when their kisses do break at 'cause of some distant sound, and kale's the one that startles most. not enough to pull completely away, though ; only enough to stay just shy of their lips brushing, but each time he does he presses his palm 'gainst his mouth in feeble attempt to stop his laughter before it starts, more than well familiar with the sort of cheek behind his slighter grin, and each time, he fails.

he's not angry about it though. the furrow 'tween his brows might be more sheepish than anything, and no better show of that lies anywhere but the faint heat creeping up the back of his neck, and the way even he personally can't keep from smiling.

" isn't the point of hiding away to try to be subtle? " as if he's doing any better at muting his own small chuffs of laughter, muted only as sporadically as the scattered kisses he leaves pressed firm 'gainst the corners of his lover's lips, cheeks, jaw ... if they both don't shut up, they're almost definitely getting caught at this rate. he's not sure his status could expunge that mark on his record when he's complicit in its making. " i'm not going to take the fall if you get yourself reprimanded. just so we're clear. "

@fckurselfie

[lesalut]

❛ this changes everything, doesn't it? ❜ -> jackothy

of course it does. there's no world where something like this doesn't change something, but he hardly feels as if it has to be anything all that dramatic. but that's not the answer he's looking for, and the gentle twist in his expression as he struggles to keep himself somewhat respectably composed speaks volumes towards the effort he's putting forth to find an answer then even remotely satisfying. maybe there should be more fanfare for the culmination of twenty-odd years left pining on the sidelines, up 'til the night before where he'd been so politely interrupted all they'd been was a question of if, never when—something like this is a step closer to all he'd been wanting, but he'd hardly suggest he wasn't happy with their present either. maybe he should be surprised timothy hadn't thought to ask sooner. before they'd gotten 'round to tearing off all their layers, much less everything that came after. waking up still entangled makes for a pleasant thrill.

his body's warm, comfortably so. though it's his own weight he's sure is pressed somewhat heavy 'gainst him, arms still trapping him in their vice grip ; nearly possessive with the strength of how they settle wound around his back and waist alike. that's probably not too surprising either, in hindsight. the moment timothy had ever given him permission to be so forward, jack had taken it in stride. and what few moments he'd hesitated, unsure of just how much force to offer, it was timothy that'd goaded him on—right from the very first kiss he'd stole that led him here to begin with.

everything is different now.

" it does if you want it to. " it's as good an answer as any : open-ended enough to still give him the right to refuse if he wanted to, but pointed enough to suggest plenty towards where his own hopes and heart lie. he knows what he wants, but he's never been one to push his partners—would-be or current—in any direction they didn't otherwise want to. and if he's to suffer a broken heart, at least he'd be in a position he could probably bear it long enough to grit his teeth and hide his face 'tween his neck and the broad warmth of his chest jack's comfortably sprawled himself atop. this is everything he's ever wanted : he likes to think he's made himself clear.

his doubts are few and far between, and never directed towards him in particular—if anything, what makes his brow furrow and smile slip slighter is little more than a sense of awkwardness. he's hopeful, clearly—but also trying really hard not to set his hopes too high, on the off-chance ... it's slim, he thinks, the idea he'd get rejected, but hell if he knows what to expect these days. his heart's practically on full display, and that's without the small ones he's taken to restlessly tracing 'gainst his lower back in an effort to ease his nerves. " i'd like it to. if ... you know, you do, too. "

@fckurselfie

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. (  some might be a bit suggestive.  )

❛  careful, or we're never getting out of this bed.  ❜

❛  you're making it very hard to leave.  ❜

❛  who said i wanted this to just be a casual one-time thing?  ❜

❛  you looked peaceful, so i didn't want to wake you just yet.  ❜

❛  don't get up yet.  ❜

❛  sorry, i didn't mean to fall asleep on you after.  ❜

❛  we should probably talk about what happened.  ❜

❛  can we not ruin this by talking yet?  ❜

❛  i could get used to waking up like this.  ❜

❛  i thought you'd be gone before i woke up.  ❜

❛  don't look at me like that unless you want a round two.  ❜

❛  you're trouble first thing in the morning.  ❜

❛  no need to act shy now, I saw more than that last night.  ❜

❛  you're blushing again.  ❜

❛  i think the neighbors may have heard us.  ❜

❛  it's only awkward if you make it awkward.  ❜

❛  i don't know what's gotten into me last night; i don't usually do this.  ❜

❛  i should probably go now ... unless you want me to stay.  ❜

❛  please don't say this was a mistake.  ❜

❛  we crossed a line last night.  ❜

❛  well, i guess this does complicate things.  ❜

❛  i don't want to pretend this didn't happen.  ❜

❛  are you sore?  ❜

❛  i think my shirt is still somewhere in the hallway.  ❜

❛  how did your clothes end up over there?  ❜

❛  i remember you were very eager to get them off.  ❜

❛  i think i have some scratches on my back.  ❜

❛  i got worried when i woke up, and you weren't there anymore.  ❜

❛  i don't want this to be just one night.  ❜

❛  please tell me you don't regret it.  ❜

❛  last night meant something to me.  ❜

❛  this changes everything, doesn't it?  ❜

❛  were you trying to leave without saying goodbye?  ❜

❛  like you even remember what happened last night ...  ❜

❛  you might want to cover that before anyone sees.  ❜

❛  i didn't hear you complaining last night.  ❜

❛  i liked seeing that side of you.  ❜

❛  you took care of me last night. let me return the favor.  ❜

❛  i think i'm in trouble because i want this again.  ❜

❛  i wanted you last night, and i still want you today.  ❜

[fckurselfie]

kale's a shockingly domesticated man, for one touted as an irredeemable villain by the family he'd left behind in momentary pursuit of more easy - going comforts ... at least by comparison of spear-heading a technological empire. chai likes to think this stretch of their relationship has proven him right, not that he'll rub it in too much when they get back to vandelay island. for the time being, he just enjoys the uplifting romance of it all — kisses pressed hard 'gainst the other man's lips, and elsewhere in the times he's teased with purposeful misses ... one to his jaw here, a quick peck to his cheek there. he doesn't stop holding him even when he's subjected to kale playing the fussier role. it's downright cute of him, to be honest.

"you know, i have noticed you listening to ' white noise ' more often. i thought you liked when things were nice and silent?" he's asking from genuine curiosity, as much as he may be teasing him. his gaze shifts from kale's briefly so he can lean to the side, glancing at the object in question ; namely, there's a literal white noise machine on the suite's bedside table. didn't get used very often except for when chai himself wasn't in the room. he's not completely oblivious, despite what impression it was he seemed to leave on other people. he knows why, there's just some part of him that always gets a little giddy hearing straight - up just how much he'd integrated into this man's life. both of them have gotten so used to the gentle thrum of his core on the environment around them, even when it's hardly noticeable ... like now.

"hey, not my fault you don't have hobbies—! watch hotel trash television while i'm in the shower, like, i dunno, what do people watch while traveling? deal or no deal? next top model? love island?" he's partially prattling on to be annoying, the subtle crinkle in his nose a dead giveaway, even as he allows kale to pull him along, his steps just short of stumbling along with him. his smile's still easy - going, the heat climbing up his neck subtle. "you can also keep talking to me. or, multi - task and do both. incredible idea, i'm so smart." his chuff's soft as his arms fall from the other's shoulders, but his hands still curl against his chest, resting in loose fists 'gainst the fabric of his clothes. the sway of their steps is easy for him to follow along, even had he not been led.

kale's pretty when he's like this — he is all the time, but when he's happy, it's especially true.

"you have a problem. you need to learn to relax and just spend an entire day doing stuff outside of work. seriously, book-keeping? c'mon." chai's smile is exasperated, but wilting still. he doesn't even have to look at the table in the room to know he's not lying. he can smell the coffee, and practically picture the stacks of papers without it. geez. the color in his face reaches his ears as the other tilts his head up, the corner of his lower lip pulling 'tween his teeth to hold back some softer laughter. kale is so ... not subtle. he knows he wants him to kiss him — like, really really kiss him, not just a greeting or excitable pecks. "i always have fun. i'm never not having fun." far be it from him to ever make things too easy, though. he bites the tip of kale's finger — very lightly. "i'm the life of these late night parties, i die when the sun comes out."

[lesalut]

that he'll not deny him in any way other than aloud, that he's a figurehead for fellow workaholics, rather ; he can't remember a day that's passed where he hasn't otherwise busied himself with something. when put up against the duties of a company head, simple managerial work means little to nothing at all—the worst it can do, and oft does, is bore him half to death. the monotony makes as a familiar comfort as it does a mind-numbing venture, paradoxical only for its stimuli. the details surrounding he's far more fond of : less tied by a leash, granted more clear freedoms to such degree that what all he's made aware of existing beyond the bubble he'd once willfully tucked himself away in had become near unfathomably overwhelming. it makes his head spin, these newfound freedoms, but chai is always quick to steady him. even if to an at-times obnoxious degree, with each kiss he purposefully dodges leaving his lips pressed elsewhere 'gainst his face and making features scrunch. he's not left scowling, though.

" i did, " he regards him with little else beyond a knowing squint and the quiet drawl in his voice where the sentiment hangs purposefully prolonged in the space 'tween them. there's no need to confirm or deny anything they aren't both fully aware of, the impact chai's left on him even in his absence ; it's less depressing to suggest the dull sound fills that void than to acknowledge the faint pang of loneliness that paws at him still each time he's tried doing anything without at least a quiet hum. " —but i've come to realize that i enjoy it most when sharing particular company. our rooms tend to feel quite empty these days while you're away. " chai isn't gone often, or rather, neither one of them are left frequently to themselves by choice, these days. whether making habit watching his shows in the best seat of the house, or spending their nights caught up in each other's arms, rarely was it they were ever apart. it makes his absences more notable ; kale's pining, too, unbearable.

the soft thrumming of chai's core provides ample comfort then, with the two of them held so close together in their makeshift dance, sparing kiss after kiss when it was possible to steal away—at least 'til their conversation distracts them.

" i think i'd rather the talking, actually, if you wouldn't mind it. " something gives him the impression it's exactly the answer he'll expect, same with the soft scrunch of his nose where the rest of his expression fights to keep itself steady ; smile thin and otherwise relatively unassuming, save for the soft chuff of laughter he fails to hold back, much to his chagrin. " you couldn't pay me to watch half of what they have airing these days. " if nothing more, seeing how much chai's smile grows makes the idle banter worthwhile. and he's successfully keeping up his own distractions—that, or his partner's simply indulging his company 'cause he missed it too. either are possible, but he won't complain for it either way. he's somewhat surprised chai isn't, given the thin shine of sweat and glitter both he can still catch glistening on his skin.

" someone has to, it might as well be someone who's good at it. " he scoffs, in part for the remark, but too for the soft nip 'gainst his thumb, repositioning his grip just a smidge lower than where he'd had it. the effort it takes to resist rolling his eyes should be commended. there's a reason he offloaded busywork like this on near everyone else he could ... but that hardly means he's personally incapable. " you're not over-exhausting yourself then? " there's some great irony in how he acts now, to hardly even months past—he wouldn't know things like this, without him ; simple romantics, much less flirting. this feels brazen for him, though they've both been far more forward. jerking him flush 'gainst his body as he bows his own head forward to bump their noses together makes for something rather tame, then, compared to what he's proven himself capable. he's not giving in first : there's mischief 'neath the sharpness of his gaze, and that's new too—the concern isn't. " you'll have me worry after too long. " perhaps he's playing a little dirty ... toying with his empathy to coax his comforts. still, it is fun.

[lesalut]

❝ just let me look at you for a little bit. ❞ -> jackothy

he knows why he's asking. even if he won't say it outright, he likes to think he at least has a pretty good idea—how scarcely they've gotten to actually relax in moments of total privacy like this. as themselves, not two men literally masquerading having to pretend like they both aren't hiding one of the planet's biggest secrets 'neath just a little bit of silicone. the relief of the mask's weight off his face is hardly understated, however much of a comfort it'd made once upon a time ; there comes a distinct difference between what'd once been mental peace now being a vital part of his physical safety when his most defining feature now lies beneath it. what few breaks they'd had along their great escape hadn't exactly given either one of them ample time to really laze around like this, not in any way that offered either one of them any real sense of reprieve. the power of timothy's unbelievably lengthy list of friends, he guesses. at least it's been a long while since he was introduced without first having a gun pressed to his head.

this is bandit behavior : timothy the grandest of them all, harboring a criminal ... or, well, a dead man's less illegal, but it's the pretense of it all, skills honed after years of wild feats that jack had only once ever played a part in. this makes twice now where one vault hunter in particular earned his praise ; the first where it's especially come to his benefit—contrary to popular belief, jack knows when it's best to hold his tongue. it's why he keeps his mouth shut save the slight upquirk to his lips, feeling his coarse palms take his face gently between them as his thumbs brush 'gainst the sharp line of his cheeks.

it isn't the first time he's ever seen him like this. the faint glow of eridium imprinted onto his skin, never quite fully able to heal—his scar's always looked as nearly fresh as the day he'd gotten it, and that's the real risk he runs being seen like this : the clearest distinction that marks him, that no double could ever match despite his better efforts. looking up at him, by contrast, timothy's scar has healed considerably, a faint pink compared to the bluish-glow of his own ; some of his freckles had even started to darken again, around the arch of it. cute.

" —- uh huh, " he hums, lolling his head aside to rest a little more firmly 'gainst one of his hands as he watches him back ; all the good it does, he can't really make any clear distinction where it is his gaze flits to as it draws 'cross his face over and over again. it never looks as if he lingers long in any one place ... which while maybe not explicitly romantic, does make it a bit sweeter to ponder—it's like he's memorizing his face all over again. his real face : not the mask, not what became handsome jack. just ... him. he's not feeling especially keen on disturbing his focus, and to his credit, he likes to think he does a pretty damn good job of holding it ; that hardly means he doesn't feel restless though. he is, at least enough to sate himself by shifting a leg out from underneath him to hook 'round the back of timothy's knee instead, while his arm reaches up to wrap loosely around his shoulders to tug him closer. that's more like it. " any longer and you're gonna end up staring a hole right between my eyes there, sweetheart. what's got you so fixated this time around? "

@fckurselfie

[lesalut]

🌟 -> jackothy

send '🌟' and a name for my muse's honest opinion on them!

" he's everything to me, what about it? " for once, admitting as much hardly feels like he's confessing to something ... how smoothly he speaks, it's just stating fact. there's little he actually needs to hide anymore : not in company like this. whether he likes it or not, they already basically know every detail of his life, his history ... it's tenderness left absent—with nothing on the line, well, what's he to hide? " we've been through a lot. mostly because of me, i know that, but—you don't know him like i do. easily the second smartest guy i know, no contest, but he's as resilient as he is friggin' brilliant. " he won't elaborate save for the smile that sits pretty 'pon his lips, that's a little secret between only the two of them—and it'll stay that way. " i like to think i'm the first one that saw his potential before, uh ... everything that happened. back before the doppelganger program, he was just the cutest guy you ever would see. like, just shy of putting those stupid big-ass bottle glasses on him, had a face absolutely covered in freckles—looked like a total loser, i mean that with all the love in the world! like ... he used to not be able to look me in the eyes for too long, so i'd do this thing, right? where i'd like, pretend to come onto him you know? except i kinda wasn't, uh, acting. all the classics, grab his face to make him look me dead in the eyes, get real up close and personal—absolutely loved that. but the absolute hunk of a man he turned into— " his short chuffs of laughter are promptly cut off with a long, drawn-out whistle as he collapses further back into his seat, head thrown back in faux swoon. " holy shit. i don't think i could've asked for anything better. "

it's hardly as if he isn't aware of his own bias ... but even he thinks that it isn't an exaggeration to point out the obvious—he was plenty handsome before, sure, but jack's the one that gets to appreciate it most. he's earned the bragging right. the lingering pause is brief for what it takes to pull himself back together, propping an arm up 'gainst the side to lean his head against. his voice is gentler, this time, as his other hand thrums 'gainst the rest opposite. " despite how much of a badass he turned into, he's still got all those stupid, dorky little charms i remember from back in the day ... he might just be the softest guy on the whole of this shithole planet, and i don't know how he does it. he'd like, start crying over an abandoned skag puppy if it looked at him the right way. " he pauses, tuts, nose scrunching. " well, not, crying—he doesn't really cry a lot, but like. get all misty-eyed? that's a whole other thing. worries me a lot, but ... i like to think he's happy. that i ... make him, happy. " that's the more awkward part ; humbling, in some place. timothy is the one that proposed to him after all—after all that time he'd spent planning! even now, he struggles to explain the swell of warmth that builds behind his chest when he glances over to the thin band on his finger, expression caught especially gentle with the lopsidedness of his smile, thin, matching the slight manner where his eyes narrow. " there's like, literally nothing i wouldn't do to protect that man. not that he needs it, but ... it took a while for word about that to get around, 'course, but you don't see anyone messing around with either of us now do you? "

@fckurselfie!

[lesalut]

🌟 -> kalechai

send '🌟' and a name for my muse's honest opinion on them!

" i love him, " that's the easy answer. simple ; polite, effective enough in its impact coming from a man who prior was more than happy to suggest the image of an icy, aloof elite, a figurehead and significant influence, but never more than. but the easy answer does very little in way of detail. he pauses, chewing on the soft inside of his cheek as he muses over his words, then continues, " somehow ... though i admit i feel as if trying to explain why runs the risk of not seeming as romantic as it is. loving him was unexpected, as was he, himself. were it not for our equal misfortune, i'm not sure we would have ever met. i honestly have trouble imagining a future without him, these days. " whenever wind of this comes back to the man in question—he knows he'll never hear the end of it. they'll spend the entire night with chai fishing for further compliment, and they both know kale will inevitably relent, just as he does now. " there's much of him i don't think i'm capable of understanding, his energy, for one thing. i don't think there was a time i've ever had so much life. it'd be enviable, were it not so ... " his expression scrunches with the vague gesture 'tween himself and his other, just pretty enough for the deepened wrinkles to look more wise than tortured. " —- infectious, that's it. i know how it must look, but being with him—near him, for as long as i have, it changes you. for the better, i think. i'm a happier man than what i was at the time of our catastrophe. "

what a mess that was. there's no need to expand further, and he knows it : that doesn't stop him from continuing anyway, his smile faint only for cause of a quiet sheepishness. he does well to keep his tender embarrassment from settling 'cross the rest of his features. " other than that ... he's exceptionally talented. i have a greater appreciation for quite a lot than i used to. i've no doubt that even without the support of the vandelay family, he would have no difficulty reaching the stars he strives for. i think he's greatly underestimated, both in his capabilities as an artist and as an individual. no one in my life has ever sought to understand me as he has. " and that's the long and short of it, isn't it? what charmed him so thoroughly ... no one has ever understood him, nor loved him, as chai does so unabashedly ; out of everyone he's met in his life, there's no other, he's certain, that could ever love him the way chai does. it's overwhelming ... as well as equally thrilling. talking about that is easier than he expected it'd be. " chai is a lot of things. empathetic and sensitive, reckless and at-times incredibly frustrating, but he's also brilliant insofar as what he's proven himself capable of, creatively and personally. he's a good man. and despite our troubled past, there's nothing i would think to change about him. "

@fckurselfie!

[lovwbugg]

how weird

[fckurselfie]

annnnnd there jacks goes, making an ass of himself. always short - lived, these more tender moments. no sooner does the guy open his mouth than rhys sighs from his, eyes rolling nice and slow so he can make sure that he catches his exasperation. he really isn't going to give him any slack here, actually. he is right to ask what the hell he's thinking! yeah, okay, sure, the past few years have been building up to their dramatic ' reunion ' in the flesh, but there's absolutely nothing from jack's past that could've reassured him this wouldn't end with a bullet in the back of his head, let alone the fucker picking up arms to follow them off on their travels. he really does not seem like the type — and you know what? rhys doesn't think he is, weird complex against vault hunters or not. staying serves no purpose other than keeping the two of them together. no wonder part of him saw this ending poorly.

the prick can't pull off cute at all. mostly just looks like an asshole. "it has a lower mortality rate than working for hyperion," he comments dryly, his shock having faded into a nice, irritated stoicism. he doesn't miss a beat catching jack's gaze, holds the eye contact steady even. the slow dissolving of tenderness from his features is to be expected. resting bitch face never takes long to come back to him. "i'm not hunting for treasure, jack. it's about seeing the galaxy. i did the whole corporate ladder climbing shtick, and i'm past it. if i'm going to be at constant risk of dying early, i'd rather die out in the stars than in an office."

guess jack had already figured as much, anyways, since they're having this conversation. he'd never been shy about voicing his decision to never return to hyperion, no matter what had become of its once - dead ceo at the end of their journeys. he's mostly just surprised he'd clearly been thinking about it. not that he's about to give jack an abundance of brownie points for the bare minimum ... his expectations had just been so low for the two of them. that's probably sad to acknowledge, but he isn't exactly an optimist these days.

" ... " rhys doesn't even flinch watching jack approach him, though. the way he waits for him to close the distance and steal his space is expectant, even, the only shift in his expression being the slight parting of his lips in more silent curiosity. it's always a gamble if what comes out of his mouth is about to piss him off or placate him ... but in spite of the walls - up demeanor he tends to portray, the two of them are more than capable of their softer exchanges. this is close to being one of them, the vault hunter seemingly unfazed by their proximity. it's not as rare as it'd once been, allowing him this close. he can still be plenty stubborn ; he can also be romantic, in a sense, when he wishes to be. "wow, very mild - mannered of you. seemed like you always had opinions on what we were getting up to when it was only my head where you could express them."

the comment's not as biting as it sounds. he doesn't even lean away from jack's hand at his cheek, not initially. he knows he'll ruin the moment before it even has a chance to start, but he still lets his head loll into his palm for the brief seconds he can. for a moment, his expression does soften. barely. the little differences are hard to catch these days, but no one has spent more time studying every single thing about him than handsome jack. it's a bit uncomfortable to feel so seen. good thing he doesn't have to sit in it for very long 'til he groans and jerks his head away from the same hand that'd cradled him the moment jack switches to pinching him instead. yup! there it is.

"yeah, your love life wasn't exactly the talk of the town. most people hated you or revered you, but i can't think of a single person who genuinely loved you." that probably comes off harsh ... but that's not exactly how he means it, either. jack had been such a private person, the ones who had known anything about him, escapades in romance or just in life? they were either non-existent, dead, or few and far between. hell, he hadn't even known he had a daughter until they'd both discovered her fate in real - time together. rhys' brows furrow as he stares off to the side for a beat longer before returning his attention to jack's face, just short of directly in front of his own. "you lied to me. like, a lot. i'm still working through what's real and what isn't. to be honest, i wasn't sure if you even did love me. i hadn't discredited the possibility you'd shoot me when you woke up your own person again."

and yet, he'd still gone through with their plan despite the risk. he's not a fucking idiot ; admitting that probably reveals a lot more about himself, shedding light on his own feelings, more than it says anything about jack. his countenance relaxes, pushing himself up 'gainst the van a little harder to maintain his posture. he's searching jack's face, his expression solemn in its vulnerability. that's rare. it won't last. "you can stay with me as long as you want, jack. a day or a lifetime. i went to the edges of the universe to bring you back, it's up to you what you do with that. either way, i've proven that i meant it when i said that i love you. now it's your turn. whether it kills me or not, whatever." the implication may be melancholy, but the sentiment isn't, at its heart. only time would tell. clearly, he's choosing to trust him. he's either the luckiest man alive or the most pathetic. they'd find out. "welcome to the team ... behave."

[lesalut]

if there was anyone between them to know just how strange this particular conversation makes for, it's almost certainly jack. maybe in some ages past, when he was originally back in his prime ; near this body's age, if he'd had to hazard a guess, he might've looked on vault hunters just slightly more fondly. slightly! they were still a hard sell, but they were often damn good at their jobs especially if he'd paid them well.to even be standing here, entertaining the thought of joining up with a group of them ... well now that's just unthinkable. both their grand dreams take them would ultimately lead them on different paths : and choosing this doesn't mean jack at all is turning his back on the position he rightfully earned, but they've all the time in the world to get back to it. he wants to choose love, this once, and hopes it finally lasts.

they'll never be on even terms when it comes down to their future—jack's tired of fighting him on it, but for where they are, he doesn't mind working his way back to it. however long it takes, so long as that means he can still keep him at his side. he doesn't see the value in throwing himself into the hollows of the earth for some sense of fulfillment when he can find just as much with loads of cash instead—but whatever! he'll join him for a while, build his strength back ; rhys doesn't have to work for him to drop by on occasion to say hello. maybe he'll get lucky, maybe they'll get married—settling down together honestly sounds like a dream, after all they've been through. they've both big dreams to strive for.

" you really think if i wanted to kill you i would have waited this long to do it? " now he'll admit, it's not the most reassuring thing in the world : not from anyone else, and certainly not from him—the casual weight of his voice matched with how exasperated his scoff sounds does absolutely nothing to make the subject then any lighter. his reputation is one that will always precede him, living or dead, his volatility most likely known second only to his disconcerting charm. it's not like he can blame him entirely for having his reservations, no matter how mildly offended he might personally be. " all that time i was rattling around up in your skull, watching you wasted your time away—i had every opportunity in the world, honey. it would've taken nothing to tap into that arm of yours while you were passed out cold. did you forget i'm a genius or something? if i wanted to, i could've figured out way more than just killing us both. " still not comforting! at all! but how easily he takes to laughing it off in favor of pressing closer to him makes it seem like he's trying to be, even the scrunch of his nose comes as more playful than aggravated, and his expression besides—tender stare and all—is far too soft to carry ill intention. " but i didn't, because i didn't want to. and you know why i didn't want to? because i love you. and i don't hurt the people i love. contrary to how that whole fit ended, i really liked you back then. "

he's no need to dig that horse back up from the grave just to beat it back down into it, they both know exactly what he'd done, and how desperately he'd all be clawed at the ends of the other man's pantlegs for a mercy he definitely didn't deserve. rehashing it is just opening old wounds. rhys was, and would always be, a kinder man by contrast for sparing him—much less gifting him the chance to stand across him, even if ironically in stolen skin. the features are more or less the same, when his natural pride slips to something more somber, " look, i'm not gonna sit here and tell you that you were wrong, 'cause you weren't. if you were anyone else, i probably would have done exactly what you expected me to. but that's just the thing, you're just who you are. " pretty words weren't his forte in any life, even when he'd relied on them—this is as honest an effort as it gets, brows furrowing 'fore he forces himself relax, settling his weight 'gainst the van with a weak, lop-sided smile. " i liked you then for the same reason i like you now. sure, parts of you remind me a lot of myself before ... everything got all messed up, but i like your wit, your spirit, your ambition ... " one by one, he lets his fingers unfurl from the fist he rests against, gaze drifting upwards as he counts out the traits as he speaks, only 'fore it to settle back on his lover across him as his voice draw off to a comfortable, albeit short-lived, silence. the cat-like curl to his lips speaks volumes to where he's heading.

" really handsome too, " he coos, reaching out a second time to draw his fingertips slowly down the line of his jaw, just enough to tease tilting his chin upright with one finger before he pulls back again—rhys would probably wave him back anyway, the second he caught his shit-eating grin pull back 'cross his lips. it doesn't matter how smooth or silken his voice might be, or how candid his choice of words, neither are enough to fully counteract the weight of his pride. " think that's just a bonus, though. how was i supposed to know you'd go down the route of this whole emo, broody thing? shockingly attractive. looks good on you. absolutely love that you look like you could stab me for looking at you the wrong way. "

it's not his fault that rhys makes himself out to be so easy to tease. his dismissals are often lighthearted, in his own, gloomy way ... and jack, despite how much joy he takes on dancing on his last nerve, knows where the boundary lies. he's careful to never cross it ; giving ample pause to each jest for him to catch glimpse of his softer side. he'll never fully shake his sharp edges, but he can still do his best to keep the mood light. this is a big deal! their relationship, and staying with him instead of following his own pursuits—jack's stubborn, not ... always stupid. " i'm getting off topic ... point is, i am choosing to put my heart and my life in your hands, and you can decide what to do with it. i love you way more than i thought i would, and i wouldn't give that up for anything. " proving himself is bound to be a long journey all its own—he expects that. the most he can hope for is a happier ending. whenever that might be, he just hopes it's not anytime soon.

this makes as warm a welcome as any. he's practically beaming, 'til his words click. and that happens far later than he thinks it should, smile slipping slightly as his head cocks aside, brow lifted in an unspoken curiosity. " happy to be—- ... hey, what am i, your friggin' dog? " he snorts, his laughter notably quiet as he takes another step forward, lifting himself from where he'd taken to resting 'gainst the caravan's side to weave an arm around rhys' waist instead, the other cupping his cheek just so jack can bow forward quickly enough to playfully nip at his ear. " woof. "

[fckurselfie]

this is really embarrassing. the thing is, chai's no stranger to being embarrassed ; he's made a fool of himself more than most other people on this planet, and it's not like he lacks self - awareness. most people thought he was an idiot, if not something a little worse. he can handle feeling like he's putting his foot in his mouth or fumbling over expressing his own thoughts, but when it's something he's spent practically his entire life dreaming of? before it'd even become a romantic infatuation with kale vandelay specifically, he'd always just longed for belonging in a general sense, like, feeling wanted. whether confessions of unconditional love came from the promise of a romantic partner or a family, he wasn't really picky. it's just, he's forgotten everything he'd ever thought to say in response. maybe the truth is nothing really suffices, and he knows that, too.

chai's startled when the distance between them closes. he hadn't heard him speak, mulling over his own thoughts — honestly, that might be for the best. god forbid he realize that, intentional or not, kale is flirting with him right now. a much softer way of doing it, mind! he likes that, too ... but he'd probably crumble, given the opportunity to really latch onto it. instead, he allows the other to raise his head as gently as he does, eyes squinting in desperation to keep himself from actually crying. like, he'll die if he does. he cannot handle that, emotionally.

lucky he, that kale thinks to brush his thumb along the corners of his eyes, then. he catches anything before it has a chance to fall, so in the end, he's just vaguely watery - eyed while being incapable of keeping real eye contact with him. he can tell that he's fishing for praise, not in a bad way, but ... picking apart chai's mind has always been an endeavor for him. this is the closest he thinks he's ever been to being understood. their emotional struggles overlap, in a lot of ways. one's too guarded, the other too open ; the trauma resulting has been the same, in ways both good and bad. this is good. it's sweet.

"you're beautiful." without thinking isn't a very tall ask for him, when he seems content to blurt shit out without a second mull over all the time. he's not sure if that's necessarily what he would've chosen to say, given the opportunity to workshop it! it's not a terrible sentiment for the moment, though. it is true, it's just not, like, a skin deep thing, and he has to hold himself back from over - explaining what he assumes kale already knows. he presses his lips together and tries to turn his head away again, the nerves starting to build into a subtle flutter in his chest. oh, come on! "you have no idea how many times i've planned out what i would say, i feel a little dumb now."

it's very like him, though ; that he would choke, when the time finally came. give him some slack ... not many people actually ever end up hearing heartfelt confessions from their celebrity daydream. calling him a crush actually feels too small a deal, now. he'd loved this man, more than most people can fathom for someone just admiring from afar. "how are you always so calm?"

[lesalut]

were it only ever so simple a thing as affection that overwhelmed him ; sweet sentiments and sweeter gestures exchanged, things that by all accounts would be easy to sate even the most touch-starved among them, but where his heart meets his doesn't find satisfaction in so shallow a measure—however much both thrill it to no end. he's put at ease in moments like these : where he takes the lead, startlingly vulnerable no matter the walls chai still need chip away. scenes thus where he's reminded of just how much he'd nearly lost, reminders of why he's glad he didn't, how much chai openly finds himself in similar struggle—lost words and uncertainty not for his feelings, but how best to express them. no one has ever understood him quite as much as the wanting rockstar had, and further, kale's not entirely unconvinced no one's ever wanted him quite as much as he had either. it's the first in what feels like eternity, he notes, where he's felt less alone.

falling in love has never been as frightening as it was to recognize the possibility he could ; but chai was always more patient than his outward demeanor would suggest, ready to catch him when he'd the bravery to tip over that edge. he's never regretted it.

knowing this does nothing to make him feel any calmer, however much he might look the part by contrast to the soft, wet of chai's gaze as he meets his own—tender and otherwise unassuming. there's a million things he feels when he's his face held gently 'tween his palms : amusement, certainly ... but a pleasant ache just the same, something he'd only recently come to understand as yearning. that ebbs and flows, swelling the longer he stands and admires him in passivity, easing with each light stroke of his thumb as it brushes over his cheek or pinches his chin a little tighter. the slight pout of his lip looks cute, yet he similarly can't help the faint sliver of pity that sparks somewhere deep within ; he looks somewhat similar to how he imagines he must have once, the first time chai ever touched him too. shocked, dazed, uncertain ... a little wary, maybe, that the good thing wouldn't last. that's the resistance he's testing, holding him this way.

" no more than you. " subjective, he knows ; just as well as he's sure once he collects himself, chai's likely to contest ... he's looking forward to it. what playfulness settles 'cross his expression is subdued only at cause of how unfamiliar it is to feel : the edges of his smile strain with how much effort it takes to hold back one wider when he tightens his grip to hold onto his gaze—and admittedly, it is a little bit funny watching him squirm when he's finally given ample opportunity to express all the same feelings he'd readily given before kale had ever even asked to hear them. " i could hazard a guess. but you know what? i think i prefer it this way, you speaking from the heart. "

it's the rest where he's left uncertain. admiring him is easy, the rest is more difficult, leaning on instincts he'd long since smothered. " oh, trust me, i'm not. i just ... " he pauses, lets his gaze fall wayside before he abruptly bows forward, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his forehead before he lets one of his hands loose to trail up and brush his bangs aside with a quiet hum, " i don't know, i think for the first time in my life, i might just be happy. "

[fckurselfie]

he feels more like a dog on his leash leading his owner about than some pouty rockstar (up - and - coming, now!) baiting his super cool, super put - together boyfriend into following him out the door and on their merry way. they probably look the part, too, when he's all but short a tail wagging! awfully chipper man for someone claiming to be strangled by the fancy tux he'd gotten tossed at him. he's in good spirits, no matter how much he bitches and whines. the truth is, he'd go anywhere and do anything for vandelay's once - heir ... the one wrapped around the other's finger here certainly is not the man trailing after him with the beginnings of a upturned smile on his lips.

chai slows down half so he can catch up, letting his steps fall to a comfortable lull 'til they're side by side. vandelay premises of any variety are always so complex, there's always some degree of wondering if he's going to lead them straight into some fuckass wall and look like an idiot. as it stands ... he can at least get them to an elevator, however much kale's hand swiping for his aims to distract him from the merry pace he'd taken to. there's always some kind of skip in his step. "you want us to have fun? since when are you the one trying to impress me, then? are you suddenly doubting your ability to plan dates again?" his fingers curl through kale's own, lacing them together so he can swing them a bit as they meander.

" — what do you mean that isn't going to work? i'm doing no such thing. whatever you're accusing me of, i mean. i'm not doing that. whatever that is." sometimes he should quit while he's ahead, it gets less cute the further he babbles. he sniffs, but relaxes at his side. he's just glad to spend time with him, really. there's been a pretty lengthy stint of them both being busy ; never enough to prevent them from seeing each other at all, but always enough to make deeper interactions less frequent. he can't exactly ask kale to stay up 'til seven in the morning with him every night for couple time. "is this you giving me permission to muss myself up? dangerous implications."

he clicks his tongue for extra emphasis, but rather than any kind of sly smile, his eyes are mostly just shining. he always sorta looks like he's mooning up at kale, whenever they're together ... and that's, like, because he is. stopping at the terminal gives him a moment to sit with it, but kissing his hand doesn't do them any favors — now it's his core that's pulsing a bit quicker 'gainst the beat of a hastening rhythm. dead giveaway. so not cool. "ooooh, so mysterious. am i experiencing rich man courtship right now?" like they're birds!

[lesalut]

always back and forth, so far as their banter goes, anyway—rarely their moods as literally. it had taken kale a considerable amount of time to catch onto the tricks chai plays : the distinctions between his lip pushed out into a pout for show or when and if he'd accidentally said something to strike a nerve, for one ... usually the differences came in his posture. whether he slumped forward a bit too dramatically, or quickly withdrew, but he could never really be certain so often outside of moments just like this, where chai perks up near in an instant realizing he was trailing after him. his own energy might be more restrained, but he's far less shy these days admitting that chai's boundless own has its own set of charms. he's fallen victim to them.

" i suppose you could word it that way, " the train of thought is certainly not one he's going to complain about, let alone contest! it's easy to play relatively impassive, save the soft upward quirk to his lips as he lets their fingers interlace, allowing chai pull them both along without resistance. suggesting he's some degree of self-doubt isn't too off the mark as far as impressions go ... he wants this to be perfect, and he is nervous about that : the details are just a little different, and that works just as well for him where his overall demeanor suggests none of his true intentions, " our tastes can be so different. it always comes as a risk when i try to be a little more creative, i wouldn't want to bore you. " in his defense ... as much as loud, busy settings suited him—kale doesn't find them especially romantic. and that's the key, just for tonight.

" well, it's too late for you to do that now. you'll have to muss yourself up some other time, i'm afraid. if— the idea appeals to you so much. " some part of him deep down knows chai will take it to heart, that the next event they need attend with some sort of dress code will end with with a rumpled suit and makeup smudged at the corners of his eyes, and he knows just as well as chai does that he'll be more smitten with it than he'll ever think to verbalize. but that's neither here nor there, nor what keeps him so at ease as he settles for the short ride with a smile teetering on sly. " if you're suddenly opposed to my spoiling you, i can always stop ... " between the two of them, kale had always been worse off when it'd come to open flirtations—but he certainly tries, if only for reactions just like this. the rush of his pulse and the hearts that swirl behind his eyes, half-dazed ; it makes him feel more put together, at least, as if his heart's any calmer. there is still so much that can fall apart, if he doesn't take this carefully.

a few hundred floors can go by rather quickly when one's used to the trip, though he finds himself nearly wishing there'd been ten or so more before the doors slide open 'gain—if for no other reason than to feel more steady, when he lets their hands drop and he tugs them both back forward. still on time ... not that the train would have left without them anyway, but still! every minute counts. " we should be unbothered the whole of our trip there, if we're lucky. i wanted us to have as much time together to ourselves as i could manage. "

[useup]

@lesalut chose : noelle chooses to pet ! but her hand lingers ...

they're gazing at her , expression unreadable . unreadable , that is , until their tongue pokes out impishly ... krissy curls their hands in front of them like paws , crimson eyes wide and exaggeratedly hopeful . begging like a puppy for her continued affection . unable to help themself .

[lesalut]

this is more like what she's used to ... when their pranks weren't more malicious, anyway—only ever so far as startling her, something like this is much sweeter. she'd almost say she prefers it : but she doesn't think she needs to, with how hard it is to hold back her smile. " aw, do you want more pets, kris? " they don't need to ask twice! noelle raises her hand slowly from the top of their head, pulling it back just far enough to brace her footing more firmly. it's quite dramatic, actually. but after reeling back, she quickly thrusts her hand forward, ruffling their hair with full force!

" who's a good puppy? you are! "