croupiex:
wallflower, blooming
There’s a glimmer of poorly hidden anger in Luke’s gaze (even an inebriated Cassius could tell, to Cas, it’s always been easy to read Luke). The anger doesn’t scare him though. Cassius knew what it was like to be scared of Luke, the gut-wrenching realisation that came after knowing he had been scared of the person he trusts most. Maybe Cas’ survival instinct has simply fallen, getting repeatedly banged up by a strongarm had a way of changing one’s outlook on injuries. Or maybe it was just a fact, that even after three years, Cassius didn’t have to be scared of Luke. (Would never have to be scared of him).
“There’s no one like you… stupid”. It’s nothing but a drunken mumble, unfiltered messy half-thought-out feelings that Cassius isn’t intelligible enough to hide from the other man. It’s also most certainly not what Luke had been imploring. “Turn around,” the human demands, hands already nudging Luke’s side until the man’s broad back is facing him. And maybe Cassius takes a slow drunken second or two to admire the expanse of Luke’s broad back now that he’s close to it, but maybe he doesn’t – that’s up to his alcohol-addled brain to decide tomorrow once it sobers up.
Body heavy, Cas is anything but graceful when he wraps his arms around Luke’s neck, awkwardly reaching up from his seated spot on the barstool. He’s probably half choking the man when he squeezes the fire elementalist’s neck, almost endearingly insistent in his hazed logic, “Take responsibility for finding me like this, carry me home”. Take responsibility for leaving me all alone for three years. When Cassius looks back on this moment he’ll regret it, he’ll want to stuff all of his moronic words back into his own mouth, pull his hands back behind himself knowing that in this moment all he wanted was to see if Luke still felt warm and safe to him after all these years. But as it is now, all that matters to Cassius is the familiar warmth under his arms and hands, and none of the implications that come with it.
one look at cassius and all he sees is him. the person he left without a word three years ago. suddenly he feels stupid, stupid for leaving him like this, stupid for doing the worst thing he could have done. he knew that cassius felt something, something he wasn’t ready for. and by leaving he probably proved the other that his decision had been a good one. he should have stayed. he really should have.
“oh, there’s commands now?” he mutters to himself before slowly complying to what cassius is asking for. luke waits for whatever cassius is planning and is surprised by a sudden chokehold. for a second he thinks the other is actually trying to choke him, but he decides to let the other have his angry moment, until- “take responsibility for what now? not my fault you’re hanging around diamond territory.” luke knows it’s a reproach. it has to be. but he doesn’t comment on it, he simply pays for everything and carries the human out of the bar. “is it fine with you if you’re staying at mine tonight? you can have the bed, i take the couch or something. i really do not want to walk to your apartment.” his hands wrap around cassius thighs to help him stay put, but even that small touch feels disrespectful, as if he’s crossing some boundaries he shouldn’t cross. he closes his eyes for a moment and simply doesn’t think of the moment as them both searching comfort in the other, as them holding onto each other, but as cas simply being drunk and him being helpful.
the streets are dark and there’s a small part in him that still wants to impress cassius, so he lets the mana flow through his fingers and watches as something that comes close to a dog or a wolf forms next to them. luke makes it true to size, so it lights up the way enough for him to see everything. “they’re your favorite, aren’t they?” luke asks to break the silence, makes the dog (or rather wolf) run a little, lighting up a dark alley before they pass through. “they used to be, at least.” i still care, he wants to add. let me step into your life again.








