[ It clearly takes Tylor a beat too, staring more at Morgan's actions than the sentence itself.
Because while he might have looked like Fandaniel, he had never felt like him. In the video, he is still until he very suddenly isn't-- ]
Ah! [ Tylor sits up suddenly, tank top straps askew. But that sound of realization quickly becomes a sound of falling off his bed tangled in blankets as the video feed spins-- ] uwahh! ow.
[ enjoy the view of his ceiling until Tylor rights himself and is leaning over his phone.
As if Morgan isn't aware that it was him, Tylor sounds genuine-- ] I sure am sorry, Morgan.
But that wasn't really Fanny. It was me the whole time. But don't feel too bad! You're so strong now, I bet you'll beat him for real next time.
[ putting together the pieces from mithrun’s words and justy’s apology x2… hani strokes mithrun’s back as they keep their eyes on justy.
”... I was the one who did the hurting. I can't be hurt. But he doesn't see himself as hurt. And... He doesn't know how to be upset with me.”
ah.
well, they’ll just say it. ]
That’s wrong, Justy-kun. [ mild and patient. ] Will you take some of those words back? I know you mean them, but keep them for another time.
[ that… works, right? mmm… what else. ]
And no more apologies from you tonight. If you want to apologize, you’ll have to say something else instead, like, “I love you,” or “dogs are cute.” What seems like a small mistake might cut deeper than we think, you know, and apologies may chafe the wound.
[ that explanation is good enough, hani decides. to mithrun, they murmur: ]
He doesn’t know how to be upset with you, but you were actually upset with yourself, weren’t you? …Are you still?
( It's good that Hani cuts in when they do, because as Tylor speaks his frown goes tight, frustrated in some way he can't articulate - not that opening with conversation about killing Fandaniel was especially transparent, either.
Hani, though, puts some pause to his thoughts, and his frown grows - though not severe in the way it might've been.
Quiet but still audible to Tylor: )
... He looked like he was hurting, when I killed him.
( And he doesn't know why he remembers or cares so much. But Tylor acting like it's nothing - even in that final moment - frustrates him. He wants to hit Tylor for not hitting him.
So, yeah, he's still upset with himself. And he doesn't know himself well enough to comprehend why he doesn't regard the incident with his usual callous indifference. )
[ Tylor agrees easily enough in his own confusion. He watches the exchange, picking up on their body language and the words he manages to catch. ]
No, don't worry, it wasn't that b-- [ For once, he catches him in the middle of being cheerily dismissive, cutting himself off after a glance to Hani. To Morgan.
Visible now that he's shuffled the camera down, he frowns and tries to reorganize. Morgan is upset and he's only making it worse. But why would reassuring him that he's fine be the wrong thing? It feels like the wrong thing.
Tylor doesn't piece together the road map, from Hani breaking him and lovingly putting him together again to now. But it makes the gravel in his throat easier to swallow, the water easier to tread. ]
It... did hurt. [ A frown, as he shifts a little.
Morgan's never heard him like this, vulnerable-- ] Actually, it hurt a lot. I felt like I was really dying. And all I wanted to do was hold you and see your face.
[ furrowed brows reflect their concern when he mentions the hurt, even as their lips pull into a helpless smile. for the love of them both, he tries and he learns, and it only makes hani love him more. ]
Because you know he didn’t mean to, that he might not have known it was you in Master’s body. [ slowly, working through justy’s thought process and adding their little flourishes on things: ] It’s not that the pain didn’t matter at all, but Morgan-kun was more important to you at the time. And to Mithrun-kun, your pain was more important because he had accidentally caused it. And he didn’t mean to or want to.
[ hani thinks there’s more to it, but that’s something for mithrun to work out on his own. or add to, if he wants. ]
And just as we don’t dismiss the fact that Mithrun-kun, Morgan-kun is important… it wouldn’t be fair to us if you were dismissive about your pain, Justy-kun. So try not to, or I’ll make you cry.
( With how Tylor had been, Mithrun didn't think Tylor would get, exactly, what the issue was - not well enough to admit he was hurt, and not out of malice. He seemed someone so used to smoothing seems over it was a reflex by now.
So he's surprised when Tylor seems to pause and reassess, open up into a more tender version of himself, a sort of expression on him Mithrun isn't sure he's seen before. Was this Hani's touch, or was this something he had missed in the few days he wasn't there?
It was something to wonder, later. But right now, Hani slips an arm around his waist as they mediate - a mediation he doesn't comment on, because there's answers here he doesn't have himself - and Tylor seems like he has something else to say. At least, it seems that way to Mithrun. )
[ Tylor nods along to Hani's words, his gaze drifting over the room. Or what he can see of it from the video. It's hard for most to tell he's even paying attention. But they both probably know that he is. This part is hard, though, the more raw feelings buzzing to a restless energy that he wishes he was there in person to dispell.
So instead, his gaze wanders and he draws up his knees to hold and rest his head on now that he's back up on his bed. It's easy to tell how small his places is, just from the amount of things crammed into it. Laundry, empty sake bottles, cups, and a poster of a pretty lady on a beach hung up on the wall behind him when Tylor settles in again.
When Hani hugs Morgan, Tylor squeezes his legs subtly. His smile is smooshed, but he agrees anyway. ]
Okay, you're right.
[ But he blinks at Morgan's question, shifting and dropping his gaze again.
It's painful to admit. Enough that it's probably easy to almost hear the dismissive responses when he opens his mouth and shuts it a few times. It wasn't that bad.
I'm fine now.
You don't have to like me, I don't mind.
It's alright if you want to leave.
Until eventually, I missed you makes his gut flip. ]
... I want you to live your life the way you want. Whatever makes you happy.
[ The first part comes easy. But the last sounds ss if this is the most difficult thing in the world to force out of his suddenly dry mouth-- ] But not knowing whether you liked me or not anymore, that was worse than dying.
[ A blink, trying to move on-- ] Oh. I'm so-- Uh, I mean. Dogs are cute, but I really am okay though. I promise! Man, I'm really glad we've cleared all of this up!
( Maybe it's just the little screen and the way Tylor boxes up into himself in his crowded room, but Tylor feels small. It's strange looking at him this way, when normally Mithrun's got to look up to eye him. At some point his own legs have slanted down onto the couch, Hani's arm around him, the moments ticking impatient by as Tylor winds his way through his sentiment. He feels - tender is the word for it; tender like a peach, soft and bruised. Still good enough to eat, but darker when you press your thumb up against the skin.
He almost misses it, when Tylor admits the bit worming through his heart, quieter and quicker than Mithrun thinks it ought to be. He doesn't know why - Tylor would think that. Mithrun's not someone who's particularly adept at handling anxiety. But he said it to Hani once, he thinks - the more you love someone, the more you worry. Stupid as it is, baseless as it is.
Maybe Tylor's heart is just too big, and that's why Mithrun can't really grasp it. The rest of Tylor isn't so big as he'd thought.
Unreassuringly, Mithrun's expression remains a frown, which only seems to grow as Tylor stumbles to a clumsy finish to tie things off with a bow. Not the greatest expression to give someone afraid you stopped caring for them.
He pushes from the couch suddenly, taking to his feet. )
Log on. I only need a minute.
( He glances at Hani in acknowledgment that they won't be involved in this, but there's nothing much for it with the restriction of headsets. At least he's sincere that he only needs a minute. )
[ Tylor isn't bothered by the frown. He knows the lines of them, the one he makes in battle or when he's deciding if the taste, touch, or feel of something is better or worse. Darker or lighter shades of grey. Or even the rarer slant of lips into reds, pinks, and the blues of affection and holding hands and sharing food-- ]
Huh? Why...
[ But Tylor is already nodding dumbly, a glance to Hani struck with confusion as he slides off his bed toward where Hani knows is his computer. He leaves his phone on his bed, still racking up international charges. Ones Hani will find, in the not so distant future, outlined in a bill accidentally used as packing for the alcohol they made together.
And so Tylor logs in, smile just as sincere yet twice as mellow. He looks the same here as he does in real life. But his hair isn't as wild now, his clothes less askew. Inky black armor, with pins of light that glow like stars.
He wonders if he'll be greeted by a smack or a kiss. But it's worth the gamble every time to find out. Even when his heart still feels raw and achy, the one time he'd rather be out walking instead of logged in. ]
[ “but not knowing whether you liked me or not anymore, that was worse than dying.”
what was at first an encouraging smile turns vague. hani lets their eyes drift to the space behind their phone. they’re still listening to the conversion, still committed to the words coming out of two beloved mouths. it’s just… if hani had a free hand, it would be pressed to their chest, feeling their heart burn with the truth of justy’s statement.
strange, they know they’re loved. and they know they love justy and mithrun. what do they not know and why does death feel like another name for happiness…
something to puzzle through when they have a moment, which is conveniently given when mithrun says he needs a minute with justy.
a blink. this smile, the one hani gives both of them now is real, which means it’s not their most beautiful smile. it’s a little crooked, a little small - relief tinged wistfulness. arm trailing from the warmth mithrun left behind to curl around their legs, mirroring justy’s previous pose.
you should take him for more than a minute, their mouth wants to say to one; you should keep him forever, they think to the other. this minute, however, is for them, so hani stays quiet. waiting, ever patient. ]
( Mithrun's gaze lingers on Hani's for a moment once Tylor's gone ahead, feeling like - feeling like there's something to say here, to Hani's imperfect smile, sincere and less pretty but with a little more of that brittle heart. Maybe it's because he doesn't understand the sentiment of fixing the person you love with another - even if you like that person, too. He had paid blood for love. Some of his own; mostly others'. Though he lost the desire to take, he knows what it'd been like.
So in his parting stance, nearly turned three-fourths away, he turns back to take Hani by the jaw and turn their face fully toward him, his expression frank. )
... Drown him. Don't either of you wait for me.
( And then he lets go, and strides off.
His understanding of himself would come in time - or it wouldn't. He would come around if he was meant to come around. But he couldn't force himself into the crevices of love, hoping he might be the right shape eventually; if it were at all possible for him, as much as he doubts it, he'd have to come into his own. If he had learned nothing from his failures, it was that he could only ever be himself.
And, perhaps, that he was beginning to get irate with the several he knew who would meander, refusing themselves for reasons he couldn't begin to dissect. At least, to him, this all felt like self-negation - and here he was, steadfastly who he was. How could he be anything but annoyed with company so amorphous?
Annoyance, though, unfortunately indicates a level of care. He hasn't gotten this far in his articulation, yet, though; he probably won't for some time.
He strides to where Tylor is with as much brisk purpose as he'd strode away from Hani (for brevity's sake we'll say he happened to be nearby, or he'll be lost for a decent while; certainly more than a minute). Dressed in his default skin with the mask up, his frown still pursed to his lips, he looks Tylor up and down again. Big as he recalls him being, but maybe a little more shrunk with context. )
... There was a point I'd considered saying you could come stay with me.
( And here he strides forward and grabs Tylor by the collar, and jerks him down to eye level. )
Laughing off things before they'd even begun is just another sort of rejection - in relationships or conversation. Remember that.
( He isn't angry with him - he isn't even upset. The fact of the matter was, he couldn't apologize to Tylor because Tylor had refused it by nature. It didn't hurt, it was fine, I don't really mind, anyway— Mithrun didn't even know he'd meant to try to make amends, but the effort tread water from the moment Tylor died.
It did hurt you. And you did like me, after all your suggestions I go find someone else - and look where we are now: a very different place we'd have been if you hadn't refused me so soon.
But he doesn't say that. He just means it. And he yanks Tylor closer than before, and he kisses him with force - a sort of force and depth he doesn't usually employ, but it's not a bite, it's not devouring. It's just him trying to say, in the best way he's been taught how, that he doesn't hate him, and he hasn't stopped liking him. Feelings change often - but theynecessarily must for Mithrun as he changes and grows, and he understands each person in his circle with a newer eye every day.
It's a long kiss, and when he's done, he lets go unceremoniously. )
... That was my minute.
( And, if not stopped, he'll log off so they can all swap back to Skype. He can't be sure he got through to Tylor, but he's trying. )
Edited (post midnight words) Date: 2023-09-05 08:37 am (UTC)
[ Tylor is predictably pliant, with a slightly strangled sound of surprise at being pulled to Morgan's level. The look in his eyes is warm for the words that smaller mouth forms. Tylor watches like he could the clouds; endlessly to the tune of the breeze. ]
That's no--
[ Confusion lingers after the words, only paused like his own words by the force of nature at his lips. It's not a storm, like Hani, nor is it the wild fire that Morgan had become, scorched across a meadow. Tylor melts into the contact, another natural thing to fall into, like lacing fingers and swinging arms. A long kiss, but long enough. Like the best loves in life.
On instinct, he reaches for Morgan when he lets go. It's the abruptness, the recent memory of his loss, the raw nerve of his feelings right now. There's no bandaging it. No matter that they're in the middle of the game, in public.
Just this once, he tries to hug him in place. His fingers move to thread in Morgan's hair as he speaks. This time, without hesitation. He doesn't mean to mimic that day, a different body, but the instinct is the same, to stave off that awful feeling of dying again. ]
I-- [ Wait. He wants to say. Why can't he say it? But he can't, because everyone should make their own choice.
If Morgan stays, there isn't much delay before Tylor's speaking lowly into his hair. Stripped bare, he hadn't shame before and he has none now, but he'd already left himself open this far. What was another layer of tissue, flesh?
His heart rate is too fast, falling from a skyscraper again. Only now he feels like this is real life. It's the closest to anger he's been that he can remember since being a kid, but it's not true anger-- just the spark that puts heat into the limbs he wraps around Morgan. ]
But that's not really fair, is it? How many times did I say it? [ His fingers twitch. ] Over and over, how much I love you? [ But the heat simmers, he clearly struggles not to apologize-- ] It was never my intention to to reject you. From the beginning, I only ever wanted you to be happy. And I still do.
[ If not for the open wound, he may never have whispered more at all-- ] Coming to stay with you would've been nice, huh? You never told me.
( Good. Get angry at him. Tylor doesn't make it that far, but it snaps in the air like the brush of thunder, and though it dissipates, he's glad for it there. The hug and hold is familiar in a cool way that coils in his chest like a serpent, and his lips purse without his realizing - but he says nothing, and allows the hug. He's quiet, and lets Tylor manage what he wants to say.
He's wordless as Tylor's breath warms his hair, getting quieter and quieter. )
... If today I said I took someone as my partner, and I said I couldn't let you ( or Hani, presumably, ) touch me anymore, would you send me off that way? With a smile, and a "be happy"?
[ It's an answer that would've come easy before now. Of course, yes. If someone else can make you happy. That's what he always says. It's an easy, practiced sentiment to express. So why does it feel so wrong now? Because even if he hasn't connected the dots, there is a hollow feeling that settles in the pit of his stomach at the thought of losing Morgan again. Time feels slow to Tylor, like syrup, but everything happens in such quick succession that it leaves him lightheaded.
He already knows what it is to see Morgan from afar. Only afar. It hurt. Still hurts. It feels like a rejection already, hanging heavily over him like a lesser grief even before Morgan asks what doesn't feel like a hypothetical at all.
Morgan's words press on his still open wound, bruised skin and breached dam sensitive to the added strain. Peach juice and blood pool and flow only to drip into veins, sticky and hot. His hands shift as he takes bolder strides forward, fluid but rushed; the normally peaceful flow of a creek replaced by the rush of rapids.
His verbal answer bubbles up unprompted as he moves, hoarse with genuine surprise at himself as he shakes his head-- ] No.
[ His eyes remain on Morgan's functional one then, hold on his jaw insisting their faces stay angled together as he walks the smaller man backwards. Back until Tylor's knuckles take the brunt of greeting a wall. There's the loosing of fingers, the slide of his palms to cup Morgan's face. A guide for the sudden snap; a rough and wildly hungry descent over Morgan's mouth on the heels of his answer. With enough force to flatten him to the cool and unforgiving stone at his back, it is a reunion of teeth, tongue, and lips.
His fingers splay as he puts all of his weight, the deceptively strong current of his love behind kissing him. They're gentle but greedy anchors as his steady fingers curl, digging just enough to leave indents. Reiterated, open mouth to open mouth, eye to eye, there's more weight behind it the second time. ]
No, I couldn't. I can't. [ He almost chokes-- ] Not anymore.
[ Tone clipped, willingly defeated, this is need and want; teeth and blood and a Tylor finessed devouring on the same scale as the meadow. A massacre of sense and reason, Tylor's feral kisses know finesse. He knows where to lick, but there's a new insistence now. I love you, I love you, I love you, let me devour you whole this time. is the message his mouth attempts to brand into Morgan's.
If this is the end, then at least his mouth will remember him. ]
( If Tylor had left things at his firm embrace, that would have been enough to tell Mithrun something - because Mithrun doesn't know Tylor as someone who means to stop him when he goes. Maybe it was that crackle of protest, that not wholly unjustified that's not fair, that had driven him to wonder - how much had he missed, how much had Tylor come to change? Does he hold on, now, as you pull away?
Mithrun hadn't expected a very strong protest; a yes or a no in equally strained argument, at best. But Tylor is more than that, and he has Mithrun off guard as he seizes his jaw and presses him back against a wall, and he kisses him like he needs him, without playing coy.
He's breathless into the kiss, and his fingers curl into the front of Tylor's armor at his chest in a way that feels familiar to that day at the guild hall. This time it stings, the taste of iron on his tongue, hot as his face is starting to feel, so different than the cool stone at his back. I couldn't, I can't, it seems to repeat in Tylor's voice; and maybe that's finally language he understands.
Mithrun once could not compromise on love. He's lost that impulse now, but the heart of it beats familiar in the caverns of his chest. Tylor's metronome, he thinks, as he kisses him in turn - not hungry, but inviting; have as much of me as you want, I won't go. Not right now.
Maybe that's why he liked Tylor, Hani, Barrett - he sensed their appetites, and he looked for his professor's hunger in them. Maybe if someone finally ate him fully, he could finally give up on revenge. Maybe he could finally forget about him, that way.
It's selfish of him, and he knows it; he's always been this way. Even now, in love, he only thinks about himself. He wonders if that part of him can change one day, too. )
[ don’t wait? well, they can do that but not in the way he means -
outside in the living room, hani’s phone sits. screen lit up for no-one -
inside mithrun’s second bedroom, there’s a light, ghostly touch at mithrun’s ankle. cool fingers meeting a small hand. the edge of a thumb running up and down the ridge of the alluring bone there, smoothing skin and scar.
then another hand joins, on the knee of his other leg. feeling, coaxing, dipping into the warm crevice. open, please, just a little. a small space is all they need.
to bite into the meat of his inner thigh, right next to where their hand soothes the wrong spot of skin. lips mouth up, seeking another bite, which they take intimately, where the skin is tender, mouthwatering and delicate. this one draws blood. it’s lapped up, a careless once-over. not an apology. there’s no apologizing for a good drink.
it must feel weird to be touched in-game in one way, and out of it in a completely different way. though the intent behind both touches are the same. need and want. is it distracting? constantly feeling something else, something other when his focus should be elsewhere? see, asks sly curling nails, this is what you make me feel. this is me, waiting. and you ask me to stop?
impossible.
these feelings were made for you. they call out your name. ]
[ Tylor can't help it, the bottomless well of love he has for others. But it's never been this, the feeling clawing its way out of his chest with the burn of wanting to become one from two, and three. Forever and ever.
He's never wanted to stay so closely bonded with anyone before now. Double, triple bonds between atoms where he was used to being only one. Had he learned his lesson? About grief and wanting and asking someone to stay? No. But he never was one to think things through fully either.
The present is where he lives, and it's a good thing this is somewhat of an alley, easily spied if someone walked past or stopped at just the right angle to peer between buildings. But Tylor hadn't planned any of this. He is too caught up in the feeling, the heat, the grief, the loss; Hani prying him open too deeply left it all melding with desire and love. The deep vein, almost painful when mined and poured into the mold of his heart. His own still beats heavy, his breathing shuddering, when he pulls away to gasp at the digital air between them.
His eyes are dazed, glossy with no sign of tears. Warmth, love, need, and pain.
He still can't ask him to stay, can't form the words about need or wanting to be needed. Those are still scary spectres that fate taunts him with. But forever? Hani and him spoke of fate and forever and love.
This... this he wants to know, even if the answer might hurt. For once, he braces and asks anyway-- ]
Do you love me?
[ Tylor's fingers tighten again before they go gentle, sweeping a thumb over Morgan's lip. ]
( Tylor's metronome, he thinks, *is familiar... phone tagging...
Ah,
He lets out a sharp gasp out of time with Tylor's kiss, breath warm against Tylor's tongue; that was - it takes him some blurred moments to realize it hadn't been Tylor who bit his thigh (somehow), but someone outside the game. Hani - Hani; his legs jerk vulnerable under the bite, a gasp escaping his lips in reality. He can't focus on them long, though, the way Tylor kisses him like he's carving his name into his lips, as if his body and affection weren't enough.
He swallows - both in Fragment and where he lies down in the real world, his hand twitching like he wants to do - something, before his fingers curl sharply into the cushion below him the way it's curled that much more sharply into Tylor's armor. He can't - manage both; it's like trying to do two different motions with your hands. But trying to be conscious of - both? his body leaves him twice as vulnerable to both sources of sensation, and Tylor's teased him enough before that he already feels tender to the touch. He feels both sides both at once, stuttering and overwhelming, the sensation amplified.
And then there's Tylor's face, with all its love and tenderness and feeling - Mithrun inhales, his breath shaky, his head muggy. He thinks - when Tylor asks, they're also asking him to stay, for the first time.
Does he love him? )
... I—...
( He feels the second, phantom bite sinking somewhere more sensitive, and the slight echo of nails after - ah, he slides down a little against the stone wall, Tylor's thumb against his lip feeling warmer than it ought.
Does he want to be with him? )
... Is the well... of your love, infinite?
( And there is something wanting in his heated expression here - something needing. Something knowing he's asking things he better not ask, because - unlike Tylor, he knows the answers.
Tylor's heart is too big for his body. Hani doesn't supersede Mithrun. But they must also be there. At least two to keep Tylor steady, in the most stable shape. At least. )
[ would that they could hold mithrun’s hands right now as they watch them bunch around fabric (or maybe its actually justy, sweetness and sorrow, so small in their hands sometimes - does mithrun know?) but hani only has so many hands for the feast that is mithrun’s body. so they must be deliberate with each taste.
that last bite had been especially delicious. mithrun’s shorts are hitched out of the way, just slightly, just enough for hani to tongue the line of where the angles meet so prettily. where there’s no meat, only bone under thin milky skin. their teeth come down upon it anyway, gnawing with some pull, the bite itself small and sharp.
a little angry? a little annoyed?
they must be, hani realizes with a breath. why - ah, because mithrun hadn’t given them the chance to shake their head no; to say they’re unable to promise what he’s demanding; to tell him honestly that their waiting doesn’t think what he means.
to explain… about drowning.
they nip his belly through his shirt. stubborn, lovely boy. silly, if he thinks hani can love the two most beautiful beings in this universe and give up on either.
in their mind, they know it’s been more than a minute and they hope that’s justy’s doing. maybe somehow their hearts resonated, brittle crackles of need and want meeting in desperate, heated explosions. the rhythm of it all like the sound of two hearts beating for one. ]
[ It's the truth, simple and clean, spoken like the chime of a bell without a care for how far the sound may carry. But it's the reverberation that runs deep, the echo of a deeper sound that rumbles bones.
Tylor moves as the bell sounds, both hands falling without falling away. As if parting from even some warmth of Morgan might be painful. Sliding over event skin and down to the back of his thighs, Tylor is bent, lips pressing tenderly at his neck as he moves to lift Morgan up; to trap him sweetly, groundlessly, just once. To sweep him off his feet with the help of the building behind him. And Hani, impatient as Tylor knows them to be, in reailty.
Pinned between sturdy building and broad body, the contrast of heat and chill, Tylor inhales of him deeply before going on more quietly without a delay. The vulnerability is there again, creeping into his soft voice and prickling at his skin. His heart trends erratic, rare and imperfect. ]
But, I've never loved anyone like you. Like Hani. I'm happy, like this. With you, with them. Just two.
[ A brittle pause, a heart laid more bare as it ever has been before. A peach, easily ripped to shreds never to reform exactly the same again. The uncertainty makes this more of a terrifying leap than Hani. But he'd glimpsed the cliff without Morgan's hand in his. Twice, it feels now. And he refuses to live with any regrets. He'd honor his parents that much, to live his life as fully as he could. Even when the unknown was less fun.
He ends, rephrasing more steadily and reaching for Morgan's hand. ]
( Ah, ah— He swallows, his heel on the couch sliding in; a slow reflex. His thigh presses up against Hani. It's hard to focus his senses between Hani and Tylor - Hani needling him, Tylor caressing him, both feeling like they've got him pinned, and he's letting them. He brushes a hand carelessly across the cushion, his fingers brushing against Hani's cheek before they finally find Hani's hair, just - curling in lightly, neither telling them to stop, nor continue. Acknowledgment, in the same way they hold on to Tylor, as he keeps him lifted up.
Maybe, a little, he presses Hani's head against him, even with all their irritation, in the same his grip on Tylor shifts so it's curled in around his neck, keeping Tylor close.
He likes this. He likes Hani's frustration, he likes Tylor's tenderness; he likes when they try to get him to understand in ways that are foreign to him, in a language he doesn't speak, but tries to pick up. Patchwork phrases and gestures, nearly gibberish, but they're good with him, patient with him.
He likes that they're sincere. He likes, selfishly, that they love him. And he likes how it feels to like them.
It's nice. It's like a meadow. It's like a sunny day.
Just, )
... Tylor... Hani—
( They both hear that - a slowing murmur of both their names, like he's holding onto it. But the rest comes just for Tylor, because he can't keep track of both his bodies, both worlds.
There's a hand tangled in Hani's hair, and there is the hand curled curls into Tylor's back - it shifts up, palm spreading up along Tylor's neck, a caress that shifts along his shoulder, then jaw - and it cups his face. )
... I want... I want— both of you. I'm... happy, with both of you.
( And it's so much, to want. It's heavy, and sickening, and dizzying, and - empty. Love is a starving agent, it is a need, and - more than anything, it's knowing so acutely what you cannot have.
Like here. )
... But... not at once. Not at the same time.
( Because he is selfish, because he is hungry, because - when wanting, this is what he is. He can't have his plate and let someone have something off it. He can't lay there on the serving dish and be taken apart by a dozen hands, vulture-esque. Not if he loves. To those whom he is indifferent - yes, eat. Have as much of him as you like, because he does not want them, they do not want him.
But love? Love leaves him starving. Love makes him selfish. And he can't share that. He doesn't think anyone can change his answer now that he's learned it, now that he's coming into himself. And that's - that's the problem with only ever being himself. He can't fit right with other people. And maybe he's always been that way, ever since the accident.
He brushes Tylor's cheek, then cups it just slightly more firmly.
He exhales soft through his lips, knowing the coming feeling of loss.
He looks at him, his lips pursed tight, like it hurts. )
[ Tylor holds his breath, patient as hope swells. It lives in his eyes, encouraged by Morgan's caress and blooming beautifully to his words. And yet, there is something wrong. Something empty and heavy at the same time settling in the pit of his stomach. The words could've stopped there and he would've melted into Morgan with wild thoughts of the present and future.
It would've been easier to swallow without the preamble, the words lifting him just high enough that he feels wind knocked from his lungs at the hidden descent by the end.
This feeling is not new. Sudden loss after lingering uncertainty, so thick that he's not sure whether to cling to Morgan or break away from him. He could log out, leave his phone, and go walking until his legs gave out. His reaction this time, that is what is new. The burn behind his eyes hurts. It's mildly terrifying, dizzying. From glossy to welling, he blinks them away, his eyelids flutter as his whole body shudders with the effort to stay on his feet. The tremble in his knees makes him grateful for the wall.
But through its journey through hope, a brief flash of joy, and the plummeting of loss, his gaze has remained on Morgan's. And his smile is as genuine as ever even as he sniffs softly and slowly shakes his head no in Morgan's hand. ]
No, don't be sorry. I'm happy you're being honest. [ His smile wobbles, held up by splintering timber as his voice cracks with it. He wants to tell him his happiness matters more, because it does. He wants to tell him he's happy for him and that he live the way he likes--
The shift is sudden, reckless, and for once Tylor is a little selfish in the throes of grief for his heart. In part, for Hani's sake, and in part for Morgan's too.
His hand iron girding as he reaches for Morgan's face again in turn. There's intensity here, fire licking at the timbers of his own heart without the feral kisses this time. As if looking this closely, he might see more than Morgan can himself. ]
But really, you don't have to decide now. Because, [ He blinks them back harder, looking genuinely upset for once. Like he isn't sure whether to be angry or sad, a choked -- ] I don't think you understand.
[ And here is the intensity again, full volume without wavering-- ]
I'm never going to stop loving you, you know? And I don't regret any of it, not a single moment. But there's no going back for me. I'm never going to forget what you feel like or how you taste, every expression you've ever made. How smart and beautiful and funny you are. It's all a part of me now.
Whatever you choose, I meant it when I said I want you to be happy more than anything. But a piece of me is going with you and I can't just send you off that easy-- with a smile and "be happy"-- I'm sure I would've, before. But now, I-- after all of this, will I still matter to you? Did I ever? [ He moves to press their foreheads together with another tremble, to ground himself and feel less like he's suddenly tail spinning.
He knows the answer, it's obvious in the flimsy way he asks and the way the tension snaps only to leave his heart mush on the pavement-- ]
There's no part of you that wants to try, to even give us a chance, is there?
[ For Morgan, he resists making a joke. Which only makes it harder to stay logged in. He doesn't even sound like himself when he tacks on, broken and croaky and barely audible-- ] To stay.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2023-09-03 09:57 pm (UTC)their slant a questioning look at justy. if hani doesn’t know, then justy must know. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-09-03 10:16 pm (UTC)Because while he might have looked like Fandaniel, he had never felt like him. In the video, he is still until he very suddenly isn't-- ]
Ah! [ Tylor sits up suddenly, tank top straps askew. But that sound of realization quickly becomes a sound of falling off his bed tangled in blankets as the video feed spins-- ] uwahh! ow.
[ enjoy the view of his ceiling until Tylor rights himself and is leaning over his phone.
As if Morgan isn't aware that it was him, Tylor sounds genuine-- ] I sure am sorry, Morgan.
But that wasn't really Fanny. It was me the whole time. But don't feel too bad! You're so strong now, I bet you'll beat him for real next time.
no subject
Date: 2023-09-03 10:23 pm (UTC)I know that was you, the first time.
( He should clarify that he learned that as Tylor died, but he feels that's obvious. )
I hunted down the real one later.
no subject
Date: 2023-09-03 10:43 pm (UTC)[ But that doesn't help any. He thought he'd figured it out, but Tylor slumps almost out of frame. Just his big eyes and wild hair-- ]
And yeah, of course you knew it. You're way too smart not to have figured that out.
[ A pause, where his only braincell is grasping. He just woke up and his mind feels like it's already being taken on a confusing ride.
This might be a dream. After an uncertain glance to Hani, he looks away too-- ]
Well, I'm sorry anyway. [ Eyes back on Morgan, remorseful-- ] For whatever I did to upset you.
no subject
Date: 2023-09-03 11:07 pm (UTC)”... I was the one who did the hurting. I can't be hurt. But he doesn't see himself as hurt. And... He doesn't know how to be upset with me.”
ah.
well, they’ll just say it. ]
That’s wrong, Justy-kun. [ mild and patient. ] Will you take some of those words back? I know you mean them, but keep them for another time.
[ that… works, right? mmm… what else. ]
And no more apologies from you tonight. If you want to apologize, you’ll have to say something else instead, like, “I love you,” or “dogs are cute.” What seems like a small mistake might cut deeper than we think, you know, and apologies may chafe the wound.
[ that explanation is good enough, hani decides. to mithrun, they murmur: ]
He doesn’t know how to be upset with you, but you were actually upset with yourself, weren’t you? …Are you still?
no subject
Date: 2023-09-03 11:23 pm (UTC)Hani, though, puts some pause to his thoughts, and his frown grows - though not severe in the way it might've been.
Quiet but still audible to Tylor: )
... He looked like he was hurting, when I killed him.
( And he doesn't know why he remembers or cares so much. But Tylor acting like it's nothing - even in that final moment - frustrates him. He wants to hit Tylor for not hitting him.
So, yeah, he's still upset with himself. And he doesn't know himself well enough to comprehend why he doesn't regard the incident with his usual callous indifference. )
no subject
Date: 2023-09-04 01:00 am (UTC)[ Tylor agrees easily enough in his own confusion. He watches the exchange, picking up on their body language and the words he manages to catch. ]
No, don't worry, it wasn't that b-- [ For once, he catches him in the middle of being cheerily dismissive, cutting himself off after a glance to Hani. To Morgan.
Visible now that he's shuffled the camera down, he frowns and tries to reorganize. Morgan is upset and he's only making it worse. But why would reassuring him that he's fine be the wrong thing? It feels like the wrong thing.
Tylor doesn't piece together the road map, from Hani breaking him and lovingly putting him together again to now. But it makes the gravel in his throat easier to swallow, the water easier to tread. ]
It... did hurt. [ A frown, as he shifts a little.
Morgan's never heard him like this, vulnerable-- ] Actually, it hurt a lot. I felt like I was really dying. And all I wanted to do was hold you and see your face.
But that part didn't hurt my feelings any.
no subject
Date: 2023-09-04 02:01 am (UTC)Because you know he didn’t mean to, that he might not have known it was you in Master’s body. [ slowly, working through justy’s thought process and adding their little flourishes on things: ] It’s not that the pain didn’t matter at all, but Morgan-kun was more important to you at the time. And to Mithrun-kun, your pain was more important because he had accidentally caused it. And he didn’t mean to or want to.
[ hani thinks there’s more to it, but that’s something for mithrun to work out on his own. or add to, if he wants. ]
And just as we don’t dismiss the fact that Mithrun-kun, Morgan-kun is important… it wouldn’t be fair to us if you were dismissive about your pain, Justy-kun. So try not to, or I’ll make you cry.
[ they hug mithrun around the waist. ]
Anything else?
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 04:09 am (UTC)So he's surprised when Tylor seems to pause and reassess, open up into a more tender version of himself, a sort of expression on him Mithrun isn't sure he's seen before. Was this Hani's touch, or was this something he had missed in the few days he wasn't there?
It was something to wonder, later. But right now, Hani slips an arm around his waist as they mediate - a mediation he doesn't comment on, because there's answers here he doesn't have himself - and Tylor seems like he has something else to say. At least, it seems that way to Mithrun. )
... "That part" didn't hurt you.
Then what did?
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 04:27 am (UTC)So instead, his gaze wanders and he draws up his knees to hold and rest his head on now that he's back up on his bed. It's easy to tell how small his places is, just from the amount of things crammed into it. Laundry, empty sake bottles, cups, and a poster of a pretty lady on a beach hung up on the wall behind him when Tylor settles in again.
When Hani hugs Morgan, Tylor squeezes his legs subtly. His smile is smooshed, but he agrees anyway. ]
Okay, you're right.
[ But he blinks at Morgan's question, shifting and dropping his gaze again.
It's painful to admit. Enough that it's probably easy to almost hear the dismissive responses when he opens his mouth and shuts it a few times. It wasn't that bad.
I'm fine now.
You don't have to like me, I don't mind.
It's alright if you want to leave.
Until eventually, I missed you makes his gut flip. ]
... I want you to live your life the way you want. Whatever makes you happy.
[ The first part comes easy. But the last sounds ss if this is the most difficult thing in the world to force out of his suddenly dry mouth-- ] But not knowing whether you liked me or not anymore, that was worse than dying.
[ A blink, trying to move on-- ] Oh. I'm so-- Uh, I mean. Dogs are cute, but I really am okay though. I promise! Man, I'm really glad we've cleared all of this up!
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 07:06 am (UTC)He almost misses it, when Tylor admits the bit worming through his heart, quieter and quicker than Mithrun thinks it ought to be. He doesn't know why - Tylor would think that. Mithrun's not someone who's particularly adept at handling anxiety. But he said it to Hani once, he thinks - the more you love someone, the more you worry. Stupid as it is, baseless as it is.
Maybe Tylor's heart is just too big, and that's why Mithrun can't really grasp it. The rest of Tylor isn't so big as he'd thought.
Unreassuringly, Mithrun's expression remains a frown, which only seems to grow as Tylor stumbles to a clumsy finish to tie things off with a bow. Not the greatest expression to give someone afraid you stopped caring for them.
He pushes from the couch suddenly, taking to his feet. )
Log on. I only need a minute.
( He glances at Hani in acknowledgment that they won't be involved in this, but there's nothing much for it with the restriction of headsets. At least he's sincere that he only needs a minute. )
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 07:19 am (UTC)Huh? Why...
[ But Tylor is already nodding dumbly, a glance to Hani struck with confusion as he slides off his bed toward where Hani knows is his computer. He leaves his phone on his bed, still racking up international charges. Ones Hani will find, in the not so distant future, outlined in a bill accidentally used as packing for the alcohol they made together.
And so Tylor logs in, smile just as sincere yet twice as mellow. He looks the same here as he does in real life. But his hair isn't as wild now, his clothes less askew. Inky black armor, with pins of light that glow like stars.
He wonders if he'll be greeted by a smack or a kiss. But it's worth the gamble every time to find out. Even when his heart still feels raw and achy, the one time he'd rather be out walking instead of logged in. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 07:27 am (UTC)what was at first an encouraging smile turns vague. hani lets their eyes drift to the space behind their phone. they’re still listening to the conversion, still committed to the words coming out of two beloved mouths. it’s just… if hani had a free hand, it would be pressed to their chest, feeling their heart burn with the truth of justy’s statement.
strange, they know they’re loved. and they know they love justy and mithrun. what do they not know and why does death feel like another name for happiness…
something to puzzle through when they have a moment, which is conveniently given when mithrun says he needs a minute with justy.
a blink. this smile, the one hani gives both of them now is real, which means it’s not their most beautiful smile. it’s a little crooked, a little small - relief tinged wistfulness. arm trailing from the warmth mithrun left behind to curl around their legs, mirroring justy’s previous pose.
you should take him for more than a minute, their mouth wants to say to one; you should keep him forever, they think to the other. this minute, however, is for them, so hani stays quiet. waiting, ever patient. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 08:27 am (UTC)So in his parting stance, nearly turned three-fourths away, he turns back to take Hani by the jaw and turn their face fully toward him, his expression frank. )
... Drown him. Don't either of you wait for me.
( And then he lets go, and strides off.
His understanding of himself would come in time - or it wouldn't. He would come around if he was meant to come around. But he couldn't force himself into the crevices of love, hoping he might be the right shape eventually; if it were at all possible for him, as much as he doubts it, he'd have to come into his own. If he had learned nothing from his failures, it was that he could only ever be himself.
And, perhaps, that he was beginning to get irate with the several he knew who would meander, refusing themselves for reasons he couldn't begin to dissect. At least, to him, this all felt like self-negation - and here he was, steadfastly who he was. How could he be anything but annoyed with company so amorphous?
Annoyance, though, unfortunately indicates a level of care. He hasn't gotten this far in his articulation, yet, though; he probably won't for some time.
He strides to where Tylor is with as much brisk purpose as he'd strode away from Hani (for brevity's sake we'll say he happened to be nearby, or he'll be lost for a decent while; certainly more than a minute). Dressed in his default skin with the mask up, his frown still pursed to his lips, he looks Tylor up and down again. Big as he recalls him being, but maybe a little more shrunk with context. )
... There was a point I'd considered saying you could come stay with me.
( And here he strides forward and grabs Tylor by the collar, and jerks him down to eye level. )
Laughing off things before they'd even begun is just another sort of rejection - in relationships or conversation. Remember that.
( He isn't angry with him - he isn't even upset. The fact of the matter was, he couldn't apologize to Tylor because Tylor had refused it by nature. It didn't hurt, it was fine, I don't really mind, anyway— Mithrun didn't even know he'd meant to try to make amends, but the effort tread water from the moment Tylor died.
It did hurt you. And you did like me, after all your suggestions I go find someone else - and look where we are now: a very different place we'd have been if you hadn't refused me so soon.
But he doesn't say that. He just means it. And he yanks Tylor closer than before, and he kisses him with force - a sort of force and depth he doesn't usually employ, but it's not a bite, it's not devouring. It's just him trying to say, in the best way he's been taught how, that he doesn't hate him, and he hasn't stopped liking him. Feelings change often - but theynecessarily must for Mithrun as he changes and grows, and he understands each person in his circle with a newer eye every day.
It's a long kiss, and when he's done, he lets go unceremoniously. )
... That was my minute.
( And, if not stopped, he'll log off so they can all swap back to Skype. He can't be sure he got through to Tylor, but he's trying. )
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 09:30 am (UTC)That's no--
[ Confusion lingers after the words, only paused like his own words by the force of nature at his lips. It's not a storm, like Hani, nor is it the wild fire that Morgan had become, scorched across a meadow. Tylor melts into the contact, another natural thing to fall into, like lacing fingers and swinging arms. A long kiss, but long enough. Like the best loves in life.
On instinct, he reaches for Morgan when he lets go. It's the abruptness, the recent memory of his loss, the raw nerve of his feelings right now. There's no bandaging it. No matter that they're in the middle of the game, in public.
Just this once, he tries to hug him in place. His fingers move to thread in Morgan's hair as he speaks. This time, without hesitation. He doesn't mean to mimic that day, a different body, but the instinct is the same, to stave off that awful feeling of dying again. ]
I-- [ Wait. He wants to say. Why can't he say it? But he can't, because everyone should make their own choice.
If Morgan stays, there isn't much delay before Tylor's speaking lowly into his hair. Stripped bare, he hadn't shame before and he has none now, but he'd already left himself open this far. What was another layer of tissue, flesh?
His heart rate is too fast, falling from a skyscraper again. Only now he feels like this is real life. It's the closest to anger he's been that he can remember since being a kid, but it's not true anger-- just the spark that puts heat into the limbs he wraps around Morgan. ]
But that's not really fair, is it? How many times did I say it? [ His fingers twitch. ] Over and over, how much I love you? [ But the heat simmers, he clearly struggles not to apologize-- ] It was never my intention to to reject you. From the beginning, I only ever wanted you to be happy. And I still do.
[ If not for the open wound, he may never have whispered more at all-- ] Coming to stay with you would've been nice, huh? You never told me.
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 09:50 am (UTC)He's wordless as Tylor's breath warms his hair, getting quieter and quieter. )
... If today I said I took someone as my partner, and I said I couldn't let you ( or Hani, presumably, ) touch me anymore, would you send me off that way? With a smile, and a "be happy"?
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 01:22 pm (UTC)He already knows what it is to see Morgan from afar. Only afar. It hurt. Still hurts. It feels like a rejection already, hanging heavily over him like a lesser grief even before Morgan asks what doesn't feel like a hypothetical at all.
Morgan's words press on his still open wound, bruised skin and breached dam sensitive to the added strain. Peach juice and blood pool and flow only to drip into veins, sticky and hot. His hands shift as he takes bolder strides forward, fluid but rushed; the normally peaceful flow of a creek replaced by the rush of rapids.
His verbal answer bubbles up unprompted as he moves, hoarse with genuine surprise at himself as he shakes his head-- ] No.
[ His eyes remain on Morgan's functional one then, hold on his jaw insisting their faces stay angled together as he walks the smaller man backwards. Back until Tylor's knuckles take the brunt of greeting a wall. There's the loosing of fingers, the slide of his palms to cup Morgan's face. A guide for the sudden snap; a rough and wildly hungry descent over Morgan's mouth on the heels of his answer. With enough force to flatten him to the cool and unforgiving stone at his back, it is a reunion of teeth, tongue, and lips.
His fingers splay as he puts all of his weight, the deceptively strong current of his love behind kissing him. They're gentle but greedy anchors as his steady fingers curl, digging just enough to leave indents. Reiterated, open mouth to open mouth, eye to eye, there's more weight behind it the second time. ]
No, I couldn't. I can't. [ He almost chokes-- ] Not anymore.
[ Tone clipped, willingly defeated, this is need and want; teeth and blood and a Tylor finessed devouring on the same scale as the meadow. A massacre of sense and reason, Tylor's feral kisses know finesse. He knows where to lick, but there's a new insistence now. I love you, I love you, I love you, let me devour you whole this time. is the message his mouth attempts to brand into Morgan's.
If this is the end, then at least his mouth will remember him. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 11:43 pm (UTC)Mithrun hadn't expected a very strong protest; a yes or a no in equally strained argument, at best. But Tylor is more than that, and he has Mithrun off guard as he seizes his jaw and presses him back against a wall, and he kisses him like he needs him, without playing coy.
He's breathless into the kiss, and his fingers curl into the front of Tylor's armor at his chest in a way that feels familiar to that day at the guild hall. This time it stings, the taste of iron on his tongue, hot as his face is starting to feel, so different than the cool stone at his back. I couldn't, I can't, it seems to repeat in Tylor's voice; and maybe that's finally language he understands.
Mithrun once could not compromise on love. He's lost that impulse now, but the heart of it beats familiar in the caverns of his chest. Tylor's metronome, he thinks, as he kisses him in turn - not hungry, but inviting; have as much of me as you want, I won't go. Not right now.
Maybe that's why he liked Tylor, Hani, Barrett - he sensed their appetites, and he looked for his professor's hunger in them. Maybe if someone finally ate him fully, he could finally give up on revenge. Maybe he could finally forget about him, that way.
It's selfish of him, and he knows it; he's always been this way. Even now, in love, he only thinks about himself. He wonders if that part of him can change one day, too. )
no subject
Date: 2023-09-05 11:52 pm (UTC)outside in the living room, hani’s phone sits. screen lit up for no-one -
inside mithrun’s second bedroom, there’s a light, ghostly touch at mithrun’s ankle. cool fingers meeting a small hand. the edge of a thumb running up and down the ridge of the alluring bone there, smoothing skin and scar.
then another hand joins, on the knee of his other leg. feeling, coaxing, dipping into the warm crevice. open, please, just a little. a small space is all they need.
to bite into the meat of his inner thigh, right next to where their hand soothes the wrong spot of skin. lips mouth up, seeking another bite, which they take intimately, where the skin is tender, mouthwatering and delicate. this one draws blood. it’s lapped up, a careless once-over. not an apology. there’s no apologizing for a good drink.
it must feel weird to be touched in-game in one way, and out of it in a completely different way. though the intent behind both touches are the same. need and want. is it distracting? constantly feeling something else, something other when his focus should be elsewhere? see, asks sly curling nails, this is what you make me feel. this is me, waiting. and you ask me to stop?
impossible.
these feelings were made for you. they call out your name. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-09-06 03:32 am (UTC)He's never wanted to stay so closely bonded with anyone before now. Double, triple bonds between atoms where he was used to being only one. Had he learned his lesson? About grief and wanting and asking someone to stay? No. But he never was one to think things through fully either.
The present is where he lives, and it's a good thing this is somewhat of an alley, easily spied if someone walked past or stopped at just the right angle to peer between buildings. But Tylor hadn't planned any of this. He is too caught up in the feeling, the heat, the grief, the loss; Hani prying him open too deeply left it all melding with desire and love. The deep vein, almost painful when mined and poured into the mold of his heart. His own still beats heavy, his breathing shuddering, when he pulls away to gasp at the digital air between them.
His eyes are dazed, glossy with no sign of tears. Warmth, love, need, and pain.
He still can't ask him to stay, can't form the words about need or wanting to be needed. Those are still scary spectres that fate taunts him with. But forever? Hani and him spoke of fate and forever and love.
This... this he wants to know, even if the answer might hurt. For once, he braces and asks anyway-- ]
Do you love me?
[ Tylor's fingers tighten again before they go gentle, sweeping a thumb over Morgan's lip. ]
Do you want me, too?
no subject
Date: 2023-09-06 06:31 am (UTC)Ah,
He lets out a sharp gasp out of time with Tylor's kiss, breath warm against Tylor's tongue; that was - it takes him some blurred moments to realize it hadn't been Tylor who bit his thigh (somehow), but someone outside the game. Hani - Hani; his legs jerk vulnerable under the bite, a gasp escaping his lips in reality. He can't focus on them long, though, the way Tylor kisses him like he's carving his name into his lips, as if his body and affection weren't enough.
He swallows - both in Fragment and where he lies down in the real world, his hand twitching like he wants to do - something, before his fingers curl sharply into the cushion below him the way it's curled that much more sharply into Tylor's armor. He can't - manage both; it's like trying to do two different motions with your hands. But trying to be conscious of - both? his body leaves him twice as vulnerable to both sources of sensation, and Tylor's teased him enough before that he already feels tender to the touch. He feels both sides both at once, stuttering and overwhelming, the sensation amplified.
And then there's Tylor's face, with all its love and tenderness and feeling - Mithrun inhales, his breath shaky, his head muggy. He thinks - when Tylor asks, they're also asking him to stay, for the first time.
Does he love him? )
... I—...
( He feels the second, phantom bite sinking somewhere more sensitive, and the slight echo of nails after - ah, he slides down a little against the stone wall, Tylor's thumb against his lip feeling warmer than it ought.
Does he want to be with him? )
... Is the well... of your love, infinite?
( And there is something wanting in his heated expression here - something needing. Something knowing he's asking things he better not ask, because - unlike Tylor, he knows the answers.
Tylor's heart is too big for his body. Hani doesn't supersede Mithrun. But they must also be there. At least two to keep Tylor steady, in the most stable shape. At least. )
... Beyond me... how many people can you love?
( I'm scared to let you tame me. )
no subject
Date: 2023-09-06 01:42 pm (UTC)that last bite had been especially delicious. mithrun’s shorts are hitched out of the way, just slightly, just enough for hani to tongue the line of where the angles meet so prettily. where there’s no meat, only bone under thin milky skin. their teeth come down upon it anyway, gnawing with some pull, the bite itself small and sharp.
a little angry? a little annoyed?
they must be, hani realizes with a breath. why - ah, because mithrun hadn’t given them the chance to shake their head no; to say they’re unable to promise what he’s demanding; to tell him honestly that their waiting doesn’t think what he means.
to explain… about drowning.
they nip his belly through his shirt. stubborn, lovely boy. silly, if he thinks hani can love the two most beautiful beings in this universe and give up on either.
in their mind, they know it’s been more than a minute and they hope that’s justy’s doing. maybe somehow their hearts resonated, brittle crackles of need and want meeting in desperate, heated explosions. the rhythm of it all like the sound of two hearts beating for one. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-09-06 07:42 pm (UTC)[ It's the truth, simple and clean, spoken like the chime of a bell without a care for how far the sound may carry. But it's the reverberation that runs deep, the echo of a deeper sound that rumbles bones.
Tylor moves as the bell sounds, both hands falling without falling away. As if parting from even some warmth of Morgan might be painful. Sliding over event skin and down to the back of his thighs, Tylor is bent, lips pressing tenderly at his neck as he moves to lift Morgan up; to trap him sweetly, groundlessly, just once. To sweep him off his feet with the help of the building behind him. And Hani, impatient as Tylor knows them to be, in reailty.
Pinned between sturdy building and broad body, the contrast of heat and chill, Tylor inhales of him deeply before going on more quietly without a delay. The vulnerability is there again, creeping into his soft voice and prickling at his skin. His heart trends erratic, rare and imperfect. ]
But, I've never loved anyone like you. Like Hani. I'm happy, like this. With you, with them. Just two.
[ A brittle pause, a heart laid more bare as it ever has been before. A peach, easily ripped to shreds never to reform exactly the same again. The uncertainty makes this more of a terrifying leap than Hani. But he'd glimpsed the cliff without Morgan's hand in his. Twice, it feels now. And he refuses to live with any regrets. He'd honor his parents that much, to live his life as fully as he could. Even when the unknown was less fun.
He ends, rephrasing more steadily and reaching for Morgan's hand. ]
Would that make you happy, too?
no subject
Date: 2023-09-06 11:00 pm (UTC)Maybe, a little, he presses Hani's head against him, even with all their irritation, in the same his grip on Tylor shifts so it's curled in around his neck, keeping Tylor close.
He likes this. He likes Hani's frustration, he likes Tylor's tenderness; he likes when they try to get him to understand in ways that are foreign to him, in a language he doesn't speak, but tries to pick up. Patchwork phrases and gestures, nearly gibberish, but they're good with him, patient with him.
He likes that they're sincere. He likes, selfishly, that they love him. And he likes how it feels to like them.
It's nice. It's like a meadow. It's like a sunny day.
Just, )
... Tylor... Hani—
( They both hear that - a slowing murmur of both their names, like he's holding onto it. But the rest comes just for Tylor, because he can't keep track of both his bodies, both worlds.
There's a hand tangled in Hani's hair, and there is the hand curled curls into Tylor's back - it shifts up, palm spreading up along Tylor's neck, a caress that shifts along his shoulder, then jaw - and it cups his face. )
... I want... I want— both of you. I'm... happy, with both of you.
( And it's so much, to want. It's heavy, and sickening, and dizzying, and - empty. Love is a starving agent, it is a need, and - more than anything, it's knowing so acutely what you cannot have.
Like here. )
... But... not at once. Not at the same time.
( Because he is selfish, because he is hungry, because - when wanting, this is what he is. He can't have his plate and let someone have something off it. He can't lay there on the serving dish and be taken apart by a dozen hands, vulture-esque. Not if he loves. To those whom he is indifferent - yes, eat. Have as much of him as you like, because he does not want them, they do not want him.
But love? Love leaves him starving. Love makes him selfish. And he can't share that. He doesn't think anyone can change his answer now that he's learned it, now that he's coming into himself. And that's - that's the problem with only ever being himself. He can't fit right with other people. And maybe he's always been that way, ever since the accident.
He brushes Tylor's cheek, then cups it just slightly more firmly.
He exhales soft through his lips, knowing the coming feeling of loss.
He looks at him, his lips pursed tight, like it hurts. )
... I'm sorry.
no subject
Date: 2023-09-07 12:12 am (UTC)It would've been easier to swallow without the preamble, the words lifting him just high enough that he feels wind knocked from his lungs at the hidden descent by the end.
This feeling is not new. Sudden loss after lingering uncertainty, so thick that he's not sure whether to cling to Morgan or break away from him. He could log out, leave his phone, and go walking until his legs gave out. His reaction this time, that is what is new. The burn behind his eyes hurts. It's mildly terrifying, dizzying. From glossy to welling, he blinks them away, his eyelids flutter as his whole body shudders with the effort to stay on his feet. The tremble in his knees makes him grateful for the wall.
But through its journey through hope, a brief flash of joy, and the plummeting of loss, his gaze has remained on Morgan's. And his smile is as genuine as ever even as he sniffs softly and slowly shakes his head no in Morgan's hand. ]
No, don't be sorry. I'm happy you're being honest. [ His smile wobbles, held up by splintering timber as his voice cracks with it. He wants to tell him his happiness matters more, because it does. He wants to tell him he's happy for him and that he live the way he likes--
The shift is sudden, reckless, and for once Tylor is a little selfish in the throes of grief for his heart. In part, for Hani's sake, and in part for Morgan's too.
His hand iron girding as he reaches for Morgan's face again in turn. There's intensity here, fire licking at the timbers of his own heart without the feral kisses this time. As if looking this closely, he might see more than Morgan can himself. ]
But really, you don't have to decide now. Because, [ He blinks them back harder, looking genuinely upset for once. Like he isn't sure whether to be angry or sad, a choked -- ] I don't think you understand.
[ And here is the intensity again, full volume without wavering-- ]
I'm never going to stop loving you, you know? And I don't regret any of it, not a single moment. But there's no going back for me. I'm never going to forget what you feel like or how you taste, every expression you've ever made. How smart and beautiful and funny you are. It's all a part of me now.
Whatever you choose, I meant it when I said I want you to be happy more than anything. But a piece of me is going with you and I can't just send you off that easy-- with a smile and "be happy"-- I'm sure I would've, before. But now, I-- after all of this, will I still matter to you? Did I ever? [ He moves to press their foreheads together with another tremble, to ground himself and feel less like he's suddenly tail spinning.
He knows the answer, it's obvious in the flimsy way he asks and the way the tension snaps only to leave his heart mush on the pavement-- ]
There's no part of you that wants to try, to even give us a chance, is there?
[ For Morgan, he resists making a joke. Which only makes it harder to stay logged in. He doesn't even sound like himself when he tacks on, broken and croaky and barely audible-- ] To stay.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: