This is from an Adam/Fergus long fic:
Adam looks up at him again, his expression torn between disbelief and wonder. “You don’t mean that. You shouldn’t mean that.” Fergus opens his mouth to interrupt but Adam continues. “I’m not worth that.”
For a few seconds, Fergus feels a rage inside him that he’s so rarely felt in his life that he doesn’t know what to do with it. He wants to yell, to hit something. Not Adam, never that. But maybe he could find Adam’s dad, or his childhood bullies, or his crappy, awful friends, or anyone who’s ever made Adam feel like he doesn’t deserve love, and beat them into a bloody pulp.
And then as soon as it came, the red mist clears and all he can see is Adam, broken and sad at his dining table. He pushes his chair back and stands up. Adam watches him walk around the table. “Stand up.”
Adam obeys immediately, which also makes Fergus disproportionately cross, even though Adam’s only doing what he asked. He reaches out and puts his arms around Adam, holding him tightly. At first Adam doesn’t even react, it’s like he doesn’t know how to, but after a few seconds he relaxes against Fergus, bringing his arms up to hold Fergus back, holding Fergus’s shirt tight in his grip like he’s afraid Fergus will disappear. Adam lays his head against Fergus’s shoulder, his face tucked against Fergus’s neck.
Fergus runs his fingers through Adam’s damp hair. “Shhh, it’ll be ok. I promise.” For a second Adam isn’t sure what Fergus is talking about, and then he realises that for the first time since he was a little boy, he’s crying. Once he realises, he can’t stop, and he clings to Fergus, sobbing.
This is from a Ho-Tan/Vex/Dissectus long fic:
Dissectus is sitting at the dining table, and he drops his spoon and stares at her, looking, Ho-Tan feels, disproportionately terrified.
They stare at each other for a few long moments until finally Dissectus speaks. “I’m sorry. I just… I was just having some dinner. I’ll go…”
He moves to stand up but Ho-Tan shakes her head. “You don’t have to leave, Dissectus. There’s plenty of room in the kitchen for us both. I only wanted to make a cup of tea.”
Dissectus stares at her for long enough that she thinks he’s going to say no and leave anyway, but then the tension in his shoulders visibly loosens and he picks up his spoon again. “As you wish,” he mutters, almost cross like Ho Tan is forcing him to stay. “At least it’s you, I suppose.”
Ho-Tan bristles slightly, mild mannered until her fellow Elders are concerned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t think Choop would have been best pleased to come across me in the kitchen.”
He almost spits Choops name, which leads Ho-Tan to conclude that they clearly haven’t worked through any of their suspicions or bad feelings yet.
“Choop is…” she hesitates, keen to avoid criticising her fellow Elder, and friend, but also feeling obliged to acknowledge his somewhat blinkered view of right and wrong. “Choop is wary, but only because he’s looking out for us all. For Yonderland. You both just need time to settle and adjust.”
Dissectus only snorts, but she ignores it and continues. “And as far as I’m concerned, this is your home now, for as long as you want it. So the kitchen is as much yours to use as anybody else's.”
Dissectus doesn’t snort this time. In fact he’s gone very still, his slightly pink cheeks the only thing that gives away that he’s heard her, and maybe appreciated it.
Ho-Tan pulls her mug down from the cabinet, and after a moment pulls a second mug down. “Tea?” she asks.
Thirty seconds ago, Dissectus would have said no. “Yes,” he says, adding a belated please on when he realises his mistake. He’s trying, at least.
Ho-Tan places the tea bags in the mug and puts the water on to boil. “How do you like your tea?”
“I—” Dissectus pauses. “I don’t know. I’ve never…” he trails off.
Ho-Tan looks up at him, carefully schooling her face into something that isn’t surprise and pity. She smiles softly at him. “Well, you’re in for a treat then.”
Dissectus doesn’t smile back, but he doesn’t frown either, so she considers that a win. She makes his tea, with extra care, and places it in front of him.
“Be careful, it’s hot.”
“I’m sure I’ve had worse injuries than a burn from a cup of leaves,” he replies, glaring at the mug like he doesn’t know what to make of it.
“I’m sure you that have, but I would hate to be the one that caused it.”
He looks up at her. He’s not sure anyone has ever considered his wellbeing before, much less felt any responsibility over it. He realises she’s still standing. Perhaps she wants to go straight back to bed, it is the middle of the night after all. And yet…
“Will you sit with me, whilst we drink our tea?”
They both look surprised at his offer, but Ho-Tan recovers first. “I’d love to,” she says, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite him.
