[ Very generous of Dokja to think of Eustace as patient and kind when all he is is too tired to make this past incident a bigger deal than he needs to be. ]
We were both wrong.
[ Impressive that he's managed to admit to his own wrongdoing not once but twice, considering how often in the past he's stubbornly clung to his own superiority. Of course, he hadn't gone through the cycle of loss and death that he has recently. In comparison to all that, a petty argument like this one doesn't seem worth the energy or time to discuss.
Dokja leans against him and he leans against Dokja, arm tightening around the other man as he lets his eyes drift closed. ]
If something comes up in the future, I'll tell you first.
[ Even if it's going to feel awkward and uncomfortable.
But while they're at it, maybe they should keep this communication channel open a little longer. They've already gotten this far. ]
Is there anything else I should know?
[ If Dokja needs to vent about his shitty boyfriend, now is the time. ]
[ Cuddling together in bed... (my own voice) Cute...
It's hard to believe they'd ever not been this way with how comfortably Dokja slots himself in beside Eustace, head dropping to the side to lean against Eustace's shoulder. After months of the same routine, Dokja's grown more than accustomed to these affectionate acts in moments of privacy, and he fiddles with the hem of Eustace's shirt as he quietly nods.
As for whether or not there's anything else that needs to be said, Dokja can't immediately think of one off the top of his head that isn't just begging Eustace to never die again. But he does try and give it a great deal of thought, even if he continues to come to the same request over and over again.
Eustace's death is going to haunt him for a while, that much is obvious. ]
I don't know, [ he answers indecisively, his fingers stilling from their motions to hang on Eustace's shirt instead. ] I guess I wish I knew what you were thinking more.
[ A little funny coming from the guy who never talks about himself, but also somewhat understandable considering Dokja had once lived a life where he could (incorrectly) read everyone else. ]
[ Dokja really out here telling a stoic to be less of a stoic. Sorry, it's coded into his genes.
But, like Dokja, Eustace takes the time to really think about the request, eyelids fluttering back open as he stares at some blank spot on the wall across from him. He does think a lot, his mind constantly whirring as he considers this and that, but it's all cyclical in the end, the same thoughts cropping up over and over again. ]
I think about you a lot [ wow, gay ], and Gray. [ And more recently, D. ] I worry about what will happen the next time the Oracle comes. I'm not strong enough to protect anyone the way I am now.
[ Which is a bitter pill to swallow even if it is the truth. He needs to get stronger, but there's only so much a man can do with so much time given. There's another brief lull of silence before he speaks again, voice dipping low in contemplation.]
Sometimes I wonder if all of us would have been happier if we'd never been brought here.
[ Not that he isn't happy now, but it's an equal amount of pleasure and pain. There'll probably only be more pain the future too, as tensions continue escalating. ]
[ Leaned up against each other like this, Eustace is sure to feel the way Dokja tenses up at the voiced contemplation. It's not a surprising thing for anyone in their positions to wonder, but Dokja can't share in the sentiment. Eustace, Gray, D... They all probably have a life to return to.
But not Dokja. Had he stayed where he'd been before Horos, then Kenos, he would have disintegrated into pieces, scattered into the stars as nothing but a memory.
So he doesn't murmur an agreement, or really say anything in response. He falls into a conflicted silence that draws itself out for longer than necessary before he turns his face so that his forehead can press against Eustace's shoulder instead, seeking total darkness as he closes his eyes shut. ]
... I want you to be happier, [ he says softly. ] I don't want you to worry.
[ If only he could make all of Eustace's burdens his own. Dokja would be happy to do so, happy to do whatever he can to make it so that Eustace can have the peace he wants. His chest feels heavy with how inadequate he feels in this moment, exacerbated by Eustace's own helplessness as their emotions bounce off of each other. ]
[ you: i want them to be happy me: proceeds to make this thread as depressing as possible
But really, what else was going to happen after putting two depressed men in the same room, one with crippling self-esteem issues and a propensity to spiral, and the other one who thinks way too much and talks not nearly enough. It's really a miracle they've both made it as far as they have.
Still, a miracle doesn't feel like enough when everything feels so bleak, the echo of his last conversation with D once again presenting itself in his conversation now with Dokja. What was it he had said again, that he would be happy so long as Dokja was happy? But neither of them are happy now, and he doesn't know how to change that without changing the way he's lived for the past twenty years. (Or where they live, but finding a place in Kenos unaffected by the rising conflict is nigh impossible.) ]
You should worry about yourself more.
[ Dokja, who's died at least twice and who has suffered through a lifetime of misery.
Though, speaking of worry—he pulls away momentarily, free hand reaching towards the nightstand to pull open the drawer and grab something from inside. That something ends being two simple leather cord bracelets, one of which he holds out to Dokja. ]
[ Wouldn't it be nice if the two of them could just go away? So much of Dokja's life has been mired by conflicts he's had no choice but to participate in, and it feels like a never-ending story at this rate. He's made some of his dreams of a peaceful life a reality, this house and its occupants are proof of that, but as long as the Meridian and Zenith persist, it'll never be what he's looking for.
Even so, what he's made for them here is a beacon of light in an otherwise gloomy existence. Dokja tries very hard not to laugh in the most self-deprecating of ways when Eustace suggests he worry about himself, because when has Dokja ever done that?
His life has meaning as long as the people around him are safe and secure. He will always be his own last priority.
He's pulled out of his miserable thoughts when Eustace reaches for the nightstand, and Dokja opens his eyes to see what it is that's presented to him. His eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, and then he delicately takes the leather bracelet to turn it over in his hands. ]
[ as if dokja wouldn't immediately run for the hills if someone pulled out a ring on him
The distraction seems to work well enough in dispelling the worst of the heavy gloom suffocating the room, and Eustace feels a little lighter as he turns his focus to explaining the matching bracelets instead of thinking about the gloomy future ahead of them. No more depression, only happiness now. ]
They're [ couple bracelets ] tracking devices linked to each other. As long as we're on the same island, you'll know where I am. So you don't have to worry as much.
[ Maybe knowing where Eustace is at every hour of every day like some sort of unhinged stalker will make Dokja feel better instead of hovering nearby like some sort of weird helicopter parent. ]
You don't have to wear it though. [ His voice turns a little self-conscious. ] You can just keep it in a pocket.
[ He's bought the occasional gift before but never anything of this nature, and while he'd tried his best to pick something lowkey and unobtrusive (even if it should have been (my voice) a ring) maybe he'd still gone too far? How the hell does one navigate a relationship anyway. ]
[ Oh. It isn't lost on Dokja why Eustace would have procured such items, but a heavy mixture of emotions shoves all of that aside. Dokja still isn't used to being given gifts, and suddenly the bracelet in his hand feels like the most precious thing in the world. He can't tear his gaze away from the small cord of leather, and a burst of affection crossing through their Aspect link makes it abundantly clear how much he appreciates this gesture.
Too bad he doesn't know how to put it to words, and Dokja feels his throat clog up for the nth time over the past few weeks. Seriously, he feels stupid for how emotional he's been getting recently, but mentally, he's completely strung out.
This is a different kind of emotional, though. He's genuinely touched at the consideration put into this idea, and it's certain to have the intended effect of bringing Dokja some peace of mind during the moments they're apart. That alone significantly calms his nerves.
Gently, he wraps an arm around Eustace, hugging him closer against Dokja's side. ]
Thank you. [ He's never going to take this off. But it has to go on first. ] I want to wear it. Can you put it on for me?
[ It's reassuring to see Dokja look more alert now, and Eustace leans easily into the half-hug, his own emotions smoothing out in the wake of Dokja's own. He doesn't hesitate in undoing the clasp on the bracelet so he can loop around Dokja's (slender erotic) wrist and fasten the thing back on. It hangs a little bit, but the fit seems snug enough that it won't slide right off.
Of course, there are two bracelets, which means—
He holds out his own bracelet in much the same way Dokja had moments ago. ]
[ Once the bracelet is on Dokja's very normal and average wrist, he takes a second to quietly memorize the details. He'd never considered himself the kind of person to wear accessories, but for this, he'll make an exception.
Satisfied on his end, he takes the other bracelet and wraps it around Eustace's (sexy and solid) wrist. After securing the bracelet, Dokja runs a thumb over the leather, then settles against the steady pulse of Eustace's wrist, as if to reassure himself.
Dokja musters up a small smile as he leans his head back down on Eustace's shoulder, all the while admiring their matching bracelets. ]
You're a surprisingly thoughtful guy.
[ He says this like he hadn't always known it to be true. ]
[ He's always made it a habit not to wear anything on his hands or wrists past the protective gloves he dons for missions. Too much risk in case something gets snagged somewhere, or a loose thread gets caught in enemy hands. So it's weird now to see the leather cord hanging off his wrist, a complement to Dokja's own. Weird, but not in a bad way. There's a little bubble of something deep in his chest, bouncing between joy and possessiveness and devotion and relief.
But, like Dokja, he doesn't know how to put any of that into words. So he doesn't, and just continues along with the conversation at hand. One eyebrow raises, his voice turning dry. ]
Did you just realize that? You really don't notice anything, do you.
[ Kidding, kidding, he is just JOKING, please don't take it the wrong way. Just in case, he follows up the remark by sliding his fingers through Dokja's own before lifting up their joined hands to press a soft kiss against the other man's knuckles.
Sorry this isn't a back-of-the-hand kiss but beggars can't be choosers. ]
[ This is so fucking cute and domestic. Dokja is going to die.
But not in a bad way. Like before, all those months ago when they'd just started out, his face still flushes a bright red in embarrassment while the tips of his ears follow suit, but unlike before, he doesn't pull or shy away. The idea of Eustace caring so much about him sits weirdly in the pit of his stomach, and while Dokja is a slow work in progress, he can at least recognize and acknowledge Eustace's feelings instead of telling him that he's stupid and wrong.
... Even if a large part of him thinks that Eustace is stupid and wrong for caring so much about him. ]
I'd ask what it is you're thinking about, but I'm afraid of the answer.
[ Because this is getting way too vulnerable for him!! So rather than allow for an opening for even more Feelings, he does the sane thing and pulls his hand away to cup the side of Eustace's face and turn him to face Dokja.
And then he leans forward, closing his eyes to kiss Eustace. Kiss his lips and not his knuckles even if the knuckle kiss is killing me. ]
[ He's right about one thing: Eustace is in fact very stupid. But not about this.
It's fine though, they don't have to talk about their feelings. They've talked about plenty already for two guys that don't usually talk about their honest emotions at all, so there's nothing wrong with taking a break now and giving themselves some breathing room.
Or they can not breathe and just kiss instead, that's also fine.
There's no hesitation as Eustace leans into the kiss, his hand tightening around Dokja's hand to tug him a little closer. (Though they're plenty close already.) The bulk of his worries are gone now, relegated back to a box labeled For Later, and in their place is simple joy and happiness. He takes his time with the kiss, relishing the feeling of being in the company of someone he cares for, with no immediate obligations demanding his attention. After everything that's happened in the past few weeks, it's a much needed (and very welcome) break.
Alas they cannot kiss forever and eventually Eustace pulls away, though only far enough so that he can lean against the bedboard while they continue to sit pressed up against each other. ]
What are you thinking about then?
[ It could be something as basic as tonight's dinner plans and he would accept it as a satisfactory answer. ]
[ Dokja wouldn't mind just staying in bed like this for the rest of the day. There's no pressing matter that he has to tend to, and he's reminded of how much he likes kissing Eustace, slow and languid and in a way that makes his heart pound like it's the very first time.
When the kiss is ended and Eustace leans back against the headboard, Dokja follows. He rests a hand over Eustace's chest, the unfamiliar rub of the bracelet around his wrist momentarily distracting him before his shifts his attention to the question he's presented with.
Propping his chin on Eustace's shoulder, Dokja gives his response an ample amount of consideration before he speaks. There are a thousand thoughts running through his mind at any given time, but right now, his focus is solely on the man snugly sat against him. He could say a number of things, but the more he stares at Eustace, the more obvious his answer becomes. ]
How annoyingly handsome you look right now.
[ The grin that spreads across Dokja's face is purely teasing, but there is no lie here, just an honest attempt at further lightening up the mood in the room. ]
But that makes two of them then, content to remain in this sanctuary they've built for themselves against all odds. Dokja's weight against him is comforting rather than oppressive, the newly fastened cord around his wrist out of place just enough to catch his eye every now and then. But not in a bad way; it's another reminder of the bond between them, the (metaphorical) threads winding together a representation of the strength of their relationship.
i should have picked something other than leather for better symbolism, damn
Anyway, Eustace looks mildly affronted that this is the thought of all thoughts that Dokja's chosen to share, gaze half-lidded as he stares Dokja dead in the eye, unimpressed. He can be accepting and judgey at the same time. ]
I always look like this. [ Hello?? Is he just annoying about it all the time then?? ] Should I change what I look like so it's less annoying?
[ He does have Alter Self tucked away somewhere....that he's never bothered to learn because magic has never been his forte, but if it's for Dokja, he will learn to change his appearance so he looks less annoyingly handsome. Whatever that means. ]
[ Imagine Dokja waxing poetic words about Eustace's appearance here because he is cringe and free but his player is not as strong even if she feels the same way.
Anyway, Dokja's expression goes from amused to mildly affronted in a split second. Yes, he knows that he used the word "annoying" to describe Eustace's beautiful face, but that doesn't mean that he wants it gone. ]
No, of course not.
[ What will Dokja spend all of his time staring at if not Eustace... Well, probably his phone screen, but he really enjoys just watching Eustace when he thinks the other man isn't looking, partly because of his face, and partly because he's still in disbelief that they've become what they are now. So with a great deal of courage, Dokja decides to just be honest for once. ]
... I like it.
[ "It" he says very vaguely as he darts his eyes to the side because he kind of regrets saying anything at all now. ]
[ Dokja is truly the most cringe and free out of everyone involved here, though Eustace is trying his best to take baby steps to catch up.
It'll never get old watching the everchanging landscape of Dokja's emotions and how lightning-quick he can go from looking elated to absolutely unimpressed. (Dokja isn't the only one in the house who stares when he thinks others aren't looking.) A stark contrast to how he knows he looks, which makes it all the more interesting.
The reluctant admittance has him smiling, the arm still loosely wrapped around Dokja's waist tightening. He thinks for a moment, then pulls both of them down so that they're no longer half-propped up against the headboard but lying down proper in the bed. It's cuddle time now. ]
I like you too.
[ It's easier to say than he expects, the words coming out with barely a hitch instead of getting trapped in his throat like he would have expected. (Then again, it's not the other l-word, so maybe the fact that he can say this now isn't all that impressive.) He doesn't think on the reasons why too much, once again shoving all complicated thoughts aside so he can bask in the simple pleasure of the moment. ]
I won't change anything. You don't need to change anything either.
[ Because Eustace likes him the way he is. :/ Gay. ]
Dokja goes down easily, happy to stay where he is as long as Eustace is right beside him. He basks in the warmth radiating off of Eustace, different from the warmth that comes from Springstar's suns. Here, at least, this warm comfort is only for him, and there's a selfish pleasure that he takes from that knowledge. So often has he gone without, and now with so much fulfilled, it's both soothing and painfully anxiety-inducing.
He'll have to do whatever he can to keep this.
And then his thoughts are broken into when the easy admission slips past Eustace's lips, and Dokja is left frozen where is, instinctively tensing as if expecting a denial to follow. When it doesn't, when all he's left with are gentle words meant to reassure him, Dokja is at a loss for words.
But it isn't panic. It's surprise. It's the twist in his gut, the pounding of his heart, the way he has to bite down on his tongue from trying to make a joke in an effort to avoid the candidness of this moment. It's the way he has to fight back a stupid smile at hearing such simple words that have probably been spoken to others hundreds of times, but never to him, and the way that he doesn't feel the urge to run for once in his life. In the end, he hides his face against Eustace's shoulder, tension slowly fading as Dokja forces himself to relax.
Just a second later, he finally responds. ]
Me too, [ he says quietly, voice muffled. ] I like you... a lot.
[ More than he'll ever know or understand how to properly convey. ]
[ There'd never been any expectation behind his words, uttered freely and genuinely. Love and affectoin had never been shackles for him, only a source of strength, and he has no plans of changing that now either for himself or for Dokja. It's enough to simply say it, to be able to voice his feelings aloud without fear of rejection.
So when the reply comes, soft and muffled against his shoulder, he's caught off-guard, whole body momentarily going still from surprise. It would be less surprising coming from anyone else but Dokja, with his habit of avoiding and deflecting and running away from everything that makes him feel remotely uncomfortable. Though maybe the sentiment itself shouldn't be so much of a surprise after how closely Dokja has stuck to his side ever since they'd returned from the Great Tree. Still, there's something about hearing it vocalized aloud that fills him with a weird sort of giddiness, caught between fierce joy and a sudden paralyzing fear at the reminder of how much he has to lose now.
As usual, it's easier to channel his feelings into action instead of words. (Not like they really need words anyway, when the invisible threads of their Aspect have always bound them together.) Rather than say anything, he tightens his hold on Dokja, pulling him in close like the world might end at any moment. Tomorrow they'll have to get up, go to work, return to the harsh reality wherein the fate of the world (and their worlds) lies in their hands. Today they can pretend that it's just the two of them, their biggest problem being the question of who hogs the sheets at night.
i really gave you a tag of nothing but introspection i'm so sorry, we can wrap this up and move on ]
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We were both wrong.
[ Impressive that he's managed to admit to his own wrongdoing not once but twice, considering how often in the past he's stubbornly clung to his own superiority. Of course, he hadn't gone through the cycle of loss and death that he has recently. In comparison to all that, a petty argument like this one doesn't seem worth the energy or time to discuss.
Dokja leans against him and he leans against Dokja, arm tightening around the other man as he lets his eyes drift closed. ]
If something comes up in the future, I'll tell you first.
[ Even if it's going to feel awkward and uncomfortable.
But while they're at it, maybe they should keep this communication channel open a little longer. They've already gotten this far. ]
Is there anything else I should know?
[ If Dokja needs to vent about his shitty boyfriend, now is the time. ]
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It's hard to believe they'd ever not been this way with how comfortably Dokja slots himself in beside Eustace, head dropping to the side to lean against Eustace's shoulder. After months of the same routine, Dokja's grown more than accustomed to these affectionate acts in moments of privacy, and he fiddles with the hem of Eustace's shirt as he quietly nods.
As for whether or not there's anything else that needs to be said, Dokja can't immediately think of one off the top of his head that isn't just begging Eustace to never die again. But he does try and give it a great deal of thought, even if he continues to come to the same request over and over again.
Eustace's death is going to haunt him for a while, that much is obvious. ]
I don't know, [ he answers indecisively, his fingers stilling from their motions to hang on Eustace's shirt instead. ] I guess I wish I knew what you were thinking more.
[ A little funny coming from the guy who never talks about himself, but also somewhat understandable considering Dokja had once lived a life where he could (incorrectly) read everyone else. ]
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But, like Dokja, Eustace takes the time to really think about the request, eyelids fluttering back open as he stares at some blank spot on the wall across from him. He does think a lot, his mind constantly whirring as he considers this and that, but it's all cyclical in the end, the same thoughts cropping up over and over again. ]
I think about you a lot [ wow, gay ], and Gray. [ And more recently, D. ] I worry about what will happen the next time the Oracle comes. I'm not strong enough to protect anyone the way I am now.
[ Which is a bitter pill to swallow even if it is the truth. He needs to get stronger, but there's only so much a man can do with so much time given. There's another brief lull of silence before he speaks again, voice dipping low in contemplation.]
Sometimes I wonder if all of us would have been happier if we'd never been brought here.
[ Not that he isn't happy now, but it's an equal amount of pleasure and pain. There'll probably only be more pain the future too, as tensions continue escalating. ]
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But not Dokja. Had he stayed where he'd been before Horos, then Kenos, he would have disintegrated into pieces, scattered into the stars as nothing but a memory.
So he doesn't murmur an agreement, or really say anything in response. He falls into a conflicted silence that draws itself out for longer than necessary before he turns his face so that his forehead can press against Eustace's shoulder instead, seeking total darkness as he closes his eyes shut. ]
... I want you to be happier, [ he says softly. ] I don't want you to worry.
[ If only he could make all of Eustace's burdens his own. Dokja would be happy to do so, happy to do whatever he can to make it so that Eustace can have the peace he wants. His chest feels heavy with how inadequate he feels in this moment, exacerbated by Eustace's own helplessness as their emotions bounce off of each other. ]
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me: proceeds to make this thread as depressing as possible
But really, what else was going to happen after putting two depressed men in the same room, one with crippling self-esteem issues and a propensity to spiral, and the other one who thinks way too much and talks not nearly enough. It's really a miracle they've both made it as far as they have.
Still, a miracle doesn't feel like enough when everything feels so bleak, the echo of his last conversation with D once again presenting itself in his conversation now with Dokja. What was it he had said again, that he would be happy so long as Dokja was happy? But neither of them are happy now, and he doesn't know how to change that without changing the way he's lived for the past twenty years. (Or where they live, but finding a place in Kenos unaffected by the rising conflict is nigh impossible.) ]
You should worry about yourself more.
[ Dokja, who's died at least twice and who has suffered through a lifetime of misery.
Though, speaking of worry—he pulls away momentarily, free hand reaching towards the nightstand to pull open the drawer and grab something from inside. That something ends being two simple leather cord bracelets, one of which he holds out to Dokja. ]
Here.
[ He will explain once Dokja takes it. ]
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Even so, what he's made for them here is a beacon of light in an otherwise gloomy existence. Dokja tries very hard not to laugh in the most self-deprecating of ways when Eustace suggests he worry about himself, because when has Dokja ever done that?
His life has meaning as long as the people around him are safe and secure. He will always be his own last priority.
He's pulled out of his miserable thoughts when Eustace reaches for the nightstand, and Dokja opens his eyes to see what it is that's presented to him. His eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, and then he delicately takes the leather bracelet to turn it over in his hands. ]
What's this?
[ (my voice) this isn't a ring ]
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The distraction seems to work well enough in dispelling the worst of the heavy gloom suffocating the room, and Eustace feels a little lighter as he turns his focus to explaining the matching bracelets instead of thinking about the gloomy future ahead of them. No more depression, only happiness now. ]
They're [ couple bracelets ] tracking devices linked to each other. As long as we're on the same island, you'll know where I am. So you don't have to worry as much.
[ Maybe knowing where Eustace is at every hour of every day like some sort of unhinged stalker will make Dokja feel better instead of hovering nearby like some sort of weird helicopter parent. ]
You don't have to wear it though. [ His voice turns a little self-conscious. ] You can just keep it in a pocket.
[ He's bought the occasional gift before but never anything of this nature, and while he'd tried his best to pick something lowkey and unobtrusive (even if it should have been (my voice) a ring) maybe he'd still gone too far? How the hell does one navigate a relationship anyway. ]
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Too bad he doesn't know how to put it to words, and Dokja feels his throat clog up for the nth time over the past few weeks. Seriously, he feels stupid for how emotional he's been getting recently, but mentally, he's completely strung out.
This is a different kind of emotional, though. He's genuinely touched at the consideration put into this idea, and it's certain to have the intended effect of bringing Dokja some peace of mind during the moments they're apart. That alone significantly calms his nerves.
Gently, he wraps an arm around Eustace, hugging him closer against Dokja's side. ]
Thank you. [ He's never going to take this off. But it has to go on first. ] I want to wear it. Can you put it on for me?
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Of course, there are two bracelets, which means—
He holds out his own bracelet in much the same way Dokja had moments ago. ]
Your turn.
[ This can be their fake wedding ring exchange. ]
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Satisfied on his end, he takes the other bracelet and wraps it around Eustace's (sexy and solid) wrist. After securing the bracelet, Dokja runs a thumb over the leather, then settles against the steady pulse of Eustace's wrist, as if to reassure himself.
Dokja musters up a small smile as he leans his head back down on Eustace's shoulder, all the while admiring their matching bracelets. ]
You're a surprisingly thoughtful guy.
[ He says this like he hadn't always known it to be true. ]
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But, like Dokja, he doesn't know how to put any of that into words. So he doesn't, and just continues along with the conversation at hand. One eyebrow raises, his voice turning dry. ]
Did you just realize that? You really don't notice anything, do you.
[ Kidding, kidding, he is just JOKING, please don't take it the wrong way. Just in case, he follows up the remark by sliding his fingers through Dokja's own before lifting up their joined hands to press a soft kiss against the other man's knuckles.
Sorry this isn't a back-of-the-hand kiss but beggars can't be choosers. ]
Like I said, I think about you a lot.
[ Dokja can interpret this however he wants. ]
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But not in a bad way. Like before, all those months ago when they'd just started out, his face still flushes a bright red in embarrassment while the tips of his ears follow suit, but unlike before, he doesn't pull or shy away. The idea of Eustace caring so much about him sits weirdly in the pit of his stomach, and while Dokja is a slow work in progress, he can at least recognize and acknowledge Eustace's feelings instead of telling him that he's stupid and wrong.
... Even if a large part of him thinks that Eustace is stupid and wrong for caring so much about him. ]
I'd ask what it is you're thinking about, but I'm afraid of the answer.
[ Because this is getting way too vulnerable for him!! So rather than allow for an opening for even more Feelings, he does the sane thing and pulls his hand away to cup the side of Eustace's face and turn him to face Dokja.
And then he leans forward, closing his eyes to kiss Eustace. Kiss his lips and not his knuckles even if the knuckle kiss is killing me. ]
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It's fine though, they don't have to talk about their feelings. They've talked about plenty already for two guys that don't usually talk about their honest emotions at all, so there's nothing wrong with taking a break now and giving themselves some breathing room.
Or they can not breathe and just kiss instead, that's also fine.
There's no hesitation as Eustace leans into the kiss, his hand tightening around Dokja's hand to tug him a little closer. (Though they're plenty close already.) The bulk of his worries are gone now, relegated back to a box labeled For Later, and in their place is simple joy and happiness. He takes his time with the kiss, relishing the feeling of being in the company of someone he cares for, with no immediate obligations demanding his attention. After everything that's happened in the past few weeks, it's a much needed (and very welcome) break.
Alas they cannot kiss forever and eventually Eustace pulls away, though only far enough so that he can lean against the bedboard while they continue to sit pressed up against each other. ]
What are you thinking about then?
[ It could be something as basic as tonight's dinner plans and he would accept it as a satisfactory answer. ]
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When the kiss is ended and Eustace leans back against the headboard, Dokja follows. He rests a hand over Eustace's chest, the unfamiliar rub of the bracelet around his wrist momentarily distracting him before his shifts his attention to the question he's presented with.
Propping his chin on Eustace's shoulder, Dokja gives his response an ample amount of consideration before he speaks. There are a thousand thoughts running through his mind at any given time, but right now, his focus is solely on the man snugly sat against him. He could say a number of things, but the more he stares at Eustace, the more obvious his answer becomes. ]
How annoyingly handsome you look right now.
[ The grin that spreads across Dokja's face is purely teasing, but there is no lie here, just an honest attempt at further lightening up the mood in the room. ]
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But that makes two of them then, content to remain in this sanctuary they've built for themselves against all odds. Dokja's weight against him is comforting rather than oppressive, the newly fastened cord around his wrist out of place just enough to catch his eye every now and then. But not in a bad way; it's another reminder of the bond between them, the (metaphorical) threads winding together a representation of the strength of their relationship.
i should have picked something other than leather for better symbolism, damn
Anyway, Eustace looks mildly affronted that this is the thought of all thoughts that Dokja's chosen to share, gaze half-lidded as he stares Dokja dead in the eye, unimpressed. He can be accepting and judgey at the same time. ]
I always look like this. [ Hello?? Is he just annoying about it all the time then?? ] Should I change what I look like so it's less annoying?
[ He does have Alter Self tucked away somewhere....that he's never bothered to learn because magic has never been his forte, but if it's for Dokja, he will learn to change his appearance so he looks less annoyingly handsome. Whatever that means. ]
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Anyway, Dokja's expression goes from amused to mildly affronted in a split second. Yes, he knows that he used the word "annoying" to describe Eustace's beautiful face, but that doesn't mean that he wants it gone. ]
No, of course not.
[ What will Dokja spend all of his time staring at if not Eustace... Well, probably his phone screen, but he really enjoys just watching Eustace when he thinks the other man isn't looking, partly because of his face, and partly because he's still in disbelief that they've become what they are now. So with a great deal of courage, Dokja decides to just be honest for once. ]
... I like it.
[ "It" he says very vaguely as he darts his eyes to the side because he kind of regrets saying anything at all now. ]
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It'll never get old watching the everchanging landscape of Dokja's emotions and how lightning-quick he can go from looking elated to absolutely unimpressed. (Dokja isn't the only one in the house who stares when he thinks others aren't looking.) A stark contrast to how he knows he looks, which makes it all the more interesting.
The reluctant admittance has him smiling, the arm still loosely wrapped around Dokja's waist tightening. He thinks for a moment, then pulls both of them down so that they're no longer half-propped up against the headboard but lying down proper in the bed. It's cuddle time now. ]
I like you too.
[ It's easier to say than he expects, the words coming out with barely a hitch instead of getting trapped in his throat like he would have expected. (Then again, it's not the other l-word, so maybe the fact that he can say this now isn't all that impressive.) He doesn't think on the reasons why too much, once again shoving all complicated thoughts aside so he can bask in the simple pleasure of the moment. ]
I won't change anything. You don't need to change anything either.
[ Because Eustace likes him the way he is. :/ Gay. ]
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Dokja goes down easily, happy to stay where he is as long as Eustace is right beside him. He basks in the warmth radiating off of Eustace, different from the warmth that comes from Springstar's suns. Here, at least, this warm comfort is only for him, and there's a selfish pleasure that he takes from that knowledge. So often has he gone without, and now with so much fulfilled, it's both soothing and painfully anxiety-inducing.
He'll have to do whatever he can to keep this.
And then his thoughts are broken into when the easy admission slips past Eustace's lips, and Dokja is left frozen where is, instinctively tensing as if expecting a denial to follow. When it doesn't, when all he's left with are gentle words meant to reassure him, Dokja is at a loss for words.
But it isn't panic. It's surprise. It's the twist in his gut, the pounding of his heart, the way he has to bite down on his tongue from trying to make a joke in an effort to avoid the candidness of this moment. It's the way he has to fight back a stupid smile at hearing such simple words that have probably been spoken to others hundreds of times, but never to him, and the way that he doesn't feel the urge to run for once in his life. In the end, he hides his face against Eustace's shoulder, tension slowly fading as Dokja forces himself to relax.
Just a second later, he finally responds. ]
Me too, [ he says quietly, voice muffled. ] I like you... a lot.
[ More than he'll ever know or understand how to properly convey. ]
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So when the reply comes, soft and muffled against his shoulder, he's caught off-guard, whole body momentarily going still from surprise. It would be less surprising coming from anyone else but Dokja, with his habit of avoiding and deflecting and running away from everything that makes him feel remotely uncomfortable. Though maybe the sentiment itself shouldn't be so much of a surprise after how closely Dokja has stuck to his side ever since they'd returned from the Great Tree. Still, there's something about hearing it vocalized aloud that fills him with a weird sort of giddiness, caught between fierce joy and a sudden paralyzing fear at the reminder of how much he has to lose now.
As usual, it's easier to channel his feelings into action instead of words. (Not like they really need words anyway, when the invisible threads of their Aspect have always bound them together.) Rather than say anything, he tightens his hold on Dokja, pulling him in close like the world might end at any moment. Tomorrow they'll have to get up, go to work, return to the harsh reality wherein the fate of the world (and their worlds) lies in their hands. Today they can pretend that it's just the two of them, their biggest problem being the question of who hogs the sheets at night.
i really gave you a tag of nothing but introspection i'm so sorry, we can wrap this up and move on ]