We Need To Talk
Lian leaned against the kitchen counter, hands wrapped around his favorite coffee mug, a present from Torako when she was barely out of elementary school. He listened to Bentley’s voice, low and still somewhat scratchy, filter in through the doorway. Heard his husband reply, even-timbered, which told him that it was just Bentley and Deryn at the entryway. His husband tended to get a little wobbly-voiced when that—when the other one was around.
Not that he blamed him. Lian couldn’t even handle being in the same room as Bentley right now, let alone the other one. Not after Torako going utterly silent for a week. Not when she had thrown herself head-first at death just to get him back. Lian took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and tried to ignore the complicated guilt, the pride, the fear tangling between his ribs.
The front door shut. He heard it, but also felt it vibrate through the counter edge digging into the space just below the hollow of his back. A brief silence followed, and then footsteps, and then—a sigh.
“It’s not his fault,” Deryn said.
“I know,” Lian said. He peered into his mug and swirled the coffee around.
“You don’t act like it.”
He pursed his lips and shot Deryn an annoyed glare. “Knowing and acting are two different things. I can know it’s not Bentley’s fault, but still not be able to fully reconcile that with the fact that she was endangered because of him. Before you say anything—I know he didn’t mean to, but she went after him.”
“Torako needs no help endangering herself,” Deryn said wryly. “Look, I know you need time, but you gotta get over yourself now. Everybody’s noticing, especially Bentley.”
Lian groaned under his breath. “I know.”
“Stop overthinking it,” Deryn said. He reached his hand out to pull Lian in closer and pressed a kiss to his temple, stubble scratchy against his skin. “If you know what’s what, just let it be that.”
“Easy for you to say,” Lian grumbled. Despite his words, he felt a little more settled. It was almost annoying, how well Deryn knew him, how he knew just the right words to calm him down.
“Anyways, you’re right,” Deryn said. He bumped his hip against Lian’s, solid and familiar. “Torako did go after Bentley. Emphasis on Torako being the active party. She went after Bentley after enlisting…his…help. She’s the one we need to talk to.”
“About him?” Lian said, tilting his head up at Deryn and raising his eyebrow. He could feel something in him winding up tight at even the thought of touching that particular issue.
“I suppose him as well. He might actually be a major reason for it.”
“It?” Lian asked. He shifted the mug in his hands. The porcelain was warm; less from the coffee, and more from the heat leeched from his skin.
“It being…” Deryn waved his hand in the air, “the reckless self-endangerment shtick she’s been developing for a while.”
The memory of when, a couple years ago, they had tried to talk Torako down from deciding to do her hare-brained year-long wild goose chase of a cult-hunting spree made Lian burst into helpless chuckles. He dragged a hand down the side of his face. “Oh, I’m going to hate this talk.”
“I know. I know. We have to talk, though. Otherwise, who knows if she’s going to…” Deryn trailed off. Lian didn’t dare finish the thought for him.
They stood like that, sides pressed up together in the apartment kitchen they’d lived in for the past twenty years. Lian lifted his coffee mug up to his lips and finished off the final dregs in long, slow sips. When he was done, he stared down at the empty mug, white bottom stained brown.
“I guess there’s no time like the present,” he said.
(read the rest on Ao3)