“Mm.” Harry knew that Thomas wouldn’t really have been ‘okay’ with it. But Bob’s assessment was still pretty accurate. He knew somewhere buried in the back of his mind that his family would not put up with his being away from the unit forever. Lara took a gamble that Thomas would crawl back and beg to be permitted again into their ranks. It hadn’t paid off.
The lazy brother, the shunned son, had instead showed that he was more capable than anyone assumed. Too bad for them, it was every bit the victory for Harry. And more importantly? For Thomas, who now saw that he could function with that nastiness in his life. He could live and be free of what the taint of his soul had otherwise promised would be his existence until the end.
“I’ll talk to him about it later.” See if there was anything he wanted done. Harry hadn’t a problem sending a message to the White Court, but he doubted Thomas would want that. He would probably insist that he would handle it. That was fine too, he supposed. It was his area more than Harry’s.
Harry broke open the bag of marshmallows, dropping in enough to fill half the glass. It was fine. It would all melt any way and become a nice frothy layer required of hot chocolate. As far as HE was concerned. It got a shower from the package of the stuff next, the powdered chocolate filling all the crevices left by the marshmallows. Now all it needed was that warm milk.
“It’s a lot to take in, I know. Having knowledge about something is one thing, experiencing is a whole different ballgame. It’s like when you sit down to learn a foreign language. You can read about it and sound it out all you like, but when you try to converse with someone else, it’s like you’ve forgotten everything you’ve learned. Practice makes perfect. No one’s ever good at something the first time, and—” He grinned. “… that relates to life too. You’ll get the hang of it. I have faith.”
He made another mug of hot chocolate though Bob never confirmed nor denied a want for one. He thought he could sip on it, see if he liked it or not. Harry had plenty of room in his belly to down the rest if he found he didn’t want any.
Something big had unleashed within the Spirit and it was infinitely difficult for Harry to keep up with. As was most things Bob got taken with. He had a way about him that was waaaay out of his league in many ways. He was ancient and he worked through problems in unique ways that didn’t always mesh well with the measly human brain. Things weren’t that much different just because he changed forms. He was just… slathered with an unexpected layer of vulnerability that he hadn’t possessed before and it was radiating off of him in that moment.
“Whoa there, take a breath.” He set down the mugs of hot chocolate on the stand beside him, fluffing out the blankets that he’d lay on one of the other recliner chairs, the only remnant left of the previous nights slumber party in the living room. He offered one to Bob. It was still a bit chilly in there, which wasn’t grand when they had only just come in from a winter wonderland. It was difficult to get comfortable with a chill settled deep on the inside.
“I don’t think you’re stupid. And Thomas doesn’t think that either. That’s just another human thing to say.” He shook his head. “There’s a lot of those that you’ll run into along the way. And they’re all equally as irritating and confusing. You know you can tell me anything and it’s okay if you don’t know what that is right now. I’m all ears when you do. But what does that have to do with kissing? What’s with the kissing thing?”
One of the first things Bob had discovered upon taking his body, was that he had an incurable sweet tooth. He wasn’t sure if it was some biological remnant from the person that had owned it before, but when Butters had tried to introduce him to vegetables (which, he had to admit, weren’t terrible, and they had some pretty weird shapes!) and grains, Bob’s eyes had drifted to the sweets on the edge of the desk, brightly wrapped in squares of colour cellophane, and he’d fallen in love.
How could anyone want to live on beets and broccoli when they could have chocolate!? And what sort of madman wanted baked potatoes when they could have french fries? Or better yet-- french fries dipped in that cold... what was it again? Milk shake!
He’d never met a sweet he didn’t like, and with the sugary scent that rose off the hot chocolate, he was fairly sure he’d found another favourite.
Hunched under the blanket and wrapped around his skull-- former skull? No, no no, that wasn’t a nice thought-- Bob looked down into the frothy cup with a quiet unhappiness that even the restorative powers of chocolate couldn’t entirely chase away. “I’m tired of everything being so hard. And I know this was the body I wanted, and I wanted to be more human, and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but it’s just so... so stupidly hard.”
Human children didn’t learn everything in a week. They settled into their bodies knowing nothing more than their very basest instincts; must breath, must eat, must be warm. Everything else was added slowly over years of practical experience. Sensation was muffled through layers of blankets, until they learned cold, cool, warm, hot, and how to understand it on their skin. Until they learned which they liked, and which they didn’t.
There was a reason children got so overstimulated that they cried. Learning to perceive and process the world was more difficult than it sounded, and society didn’t always make sense. It had arbitrary rules that made some sense to modern people-- but which older vampires, older wizards, and the fae, often struggled with. And for all Bob was only a month old? He was also a thousand year old spirit that had seen the rise and fall of civilizations.
A creature of the Never Never, and not a human at all.
Huddled in with his cup, Bob took a few tentative sips, (he’d burned his tongue a few times, and didn’t really want a repeat of it!) and smiled over the edge of the cup at Harry, “Thanks, boss... But I don’t even know what he thinks I’m supposed to be telling you. I promise, if I did? I would.”
The kissing thing, though... that was a little more complicated.
Bob winced and shifted his weight uncomfortably, light fingers tap-tap-tapping on the hot side of his mug. “It’s stupid, really stupid, and you’re probably going to get super mad at me. But, seem it’s-- I was curious. Sort of. And Thomas is always flirting with me-- at least, I thought that’s what it was. It seemed like it! Maybe I was wrong? Anyway, it was after everyone left the shop-- and don’t tell him about this, because I don’t think he’d want you to know, but who else am I supposed to talk to? I’m confused, and I don’t know what I’m doing!’
“So I was sitting on the counter, and he was really close.. really...” Bob flushed the colour seeping up into his ears as he motioned with his free hand, miming the way Thomas had been close enough to feel his breath on his face, and the way his hands had bracketed his hips on the counter. He could still remember the way his heart that felt strange and nervously fluttery in his chest. “Really close. And I wanted to kiss him, because I’d never.. I was curious, and I didn’t actually, really, truly think he’d do it.’
“It was a little like being devoured.” His voice muffled into his mug as he busied his hands with the hot ceramic and tried not to squirm. “I didn’t know kissing was like that... And it was good for a minute, and then all of a sudden? He pulled away just.. Told me to call you and go home. Then he left. Harry, I don’t know what I did wrong.’
“I know I’ve never kissed anyone before, but could I really be that-that-that bad at it? It’s not like I stuck my tongue down his throat or drooled all over him or something. I know better than that! Promise... And it shouldn’t bug me like this. But it really does.”
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