Home of the Wheelbarrow

[Jack]

There was a note of silence between them as he lingered anxiously, and Midhir appeared to ponder him for a moment. Fortunately, that did not last very long. That would be all right.

Jack's response was apparent, and immediate, a satisfied grin creeping across his lips as he nodded. "Perfect," the Badlander replied. He supposed showing that level of enthusiasm would only make things stranger, if they weren't odd enough already. The tenacity with which he offered to share a bed -- it was both like him, and very unlike him. It was closer to the man he was before. Before Daniel died.

He knelt over and rummaged through his pack, shoving his bag of coins in there and making sure he had everything; that nothing essential had been forgotten or somehow stolen. When everything seemed right, he pulled his jacket over his arms and set it over the leather bag, revealing his simple linen undershirt better. It concealed little of his moderately muscled arms, and came down near the peak of his upper abdomen, revealing the inner edges of his tan pectorals between it. Turning to face the other, he offered the Sil'norai a brief, but warm smile before removing his sandals and placing them beside his belongings.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled onto his side, glancing up to meet Midhir's eyes before patting the bed before him. "Thanks, by the way," he whispered, casting his gaze lower as he became thoughtful. "For everythin'. For bein' a good man, a good friend. You're a tender soul, Mid... I hope nothin' about this crooked world forces that to change. It's somethin' I admire about you."

And like, he could only add internally. Maybe he was a 'putain'. He felt a fool for how quickly his heart was being swayed. Not again, echoed that jaded voice. Not another time.

[Midhir]

Midhir knew perfect was in reference to their sleeping arrangements, but the warmth in his eyes and the white slash of his smile in his tanned face felt like approbation, and that was rare for him to feel. He ducked his head down as he smiled. When it seemed as though Jack wanted to rest until their food came, Midhir started to strip away layers too. He had bathed in the river that morning, and the trek had been long, but not unduly arduous. He didn't think nearness would be offensive to his new friend. Anyway, Jack seemed cavalier about it, and Midhir didn't know when he had last bathed, but he hadn't smelled bad when they had been close before.

He realized he was thinking quite a bit about minutiae and carefully controlled his breathing in order to bring his thoughts under control too. He hung up his cloak, and started removing the bits of clothes he had picked up in his travels. When his robe came off, the crystalline patches that covered each knob of his spine were clearly visible from the waist of his pants up under his hair. His back was strong, not from heavy labor, but from intense, ongoing training. If Jack was up early enough, he might catch Midhir at his sun salutations, but for now, Midhir just removed his shoes and slid them under the spare bed, and turned to catch him smiling.

"Change is the only constant," he said as he crept into the space Jack had made for him. The aphorism might have been an epigram the way he smiled after. "Thank you for being a good man, Jack. At least to me." The addendum would release Jack from the need to deny his goodness; they were all flawed creatures, but he had been good to Midhir and the elf appreciated that.

He turned onto his side facing Jack, but was careful not to encroach upon his space.

"I'll answer the door when the food comes," he promised.

[Jack]

As Midhir stripped down after him, Jack occasionally glanced to bring him into view, observing him as he pulled his robe from his torso, sliding it over his arms until it was laid down to reveal his chest. He was toned, lean; their bodies weren't dissimilar. In fact, they were parallel in more ways than just their build. Their height was roughly the same, too. The contrast was in the tone of their skin -- Jack was a deep tan, while Midhir was ivory in color, complimented by the gloss and sheen of his Sil'norai heritage. He had seen something like it before, and it was strangely ephemeral, like witnessing the incarnation of a creature of legend and myth. Creatures humans had stopped interacting with in abundance long ago, long enough to transcribe them into ancient history.

Men like Midhir were a reminder that the Lord Elves were still very real. And despite all of the fearmongering, most he had met had been very kind. Midhir most of all.

Seeing that the other did not mind a lesser state of dress, Jack pulled his own shirt over his head, leaving his chest bare as he tossed it past the foot of the bed, the fabric landing over the trunk beside his pack.

Change is the only constant.

Midhir crept beside him, Jack leaning against the wall to provide him space as the other man filled the void of their mattress. Thank you for being a good man.

The Elven man faced him. They were so close; facing back, their features and eyes met, Jack exploring his handsome features with his eyes. There was no point in denying his attraction to him. It was there, maybe even evident. If anything, there was far more honor in an upfront truth than luring Midhir in without the other knowing how he felt.

"I like you, Midhir," he whispered with a strained, hesitant voice. His head shook, rubbing along the sheet over the mattress before he lifted it slightly, coolly narrowing his eyes. "That's why I invited you onto my bed. Not because it's cold, not because I'm afraid, but because I like you."

[Midhir]

Jack seemed to follow his lead when he ended up less dressed than him, which might have been a signal. Jack looked at him oddly, almost with wonder, then curiosity, and any number of other things Midhir didn't know how to decipher, and so he was glad when he spoke his mind plainly. He deflected with humor, though, which meant he was learning how people were outside the monastery, it seemed.

"Already?" he asked, but if he was teasing, he was gentle about it.

"I like you, too, Jack, but I don't know exactly what that means. For obvious reasons, I think." A hand came up tentatively as if to touch Jack's face, but he thought better of it and tucked it under his cheek. "I'm not stupid, but I am realizing more and more how ignorant I am." There was a growing discontent with that. He wished he had been raised in the world and given the opportunity to choose the lineage, but instead he was on an adventure that he was only partially equipped to survive. He didn't know what sort of balance that was meant to achieve.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he added with a self-deprecating smile. He wasn't apologizing for that, because he was learning things every day. It was just a fact.

"Thank you for telling me. I know a lot of things fly over my head, but I'm learning."

After a pause, he pressed a little. Sometimes, the right question earned answers. "What does that mean, though? For right now?" He knew where liking could lead—to sex, to love, to attachments that weren't forbidden, but could be dangerous to one's balance, or instrumental to it, as well. He just didn't know what liking someone he had just met meant to Jack, let alone what it meant to him.

[Jack]

Already?

He felt his heart drop in his chest; like his worst anxieties were coming true, the other mocking him for the childish lack of forethought he had exercised. Jack glanced down momentarily, lips parting slightly as he became ready to just--dismiss it all. The entire idea.

I like you too.

"Oh," he perked up, lips pressing tightly as he looked up to meet the other's stare. A soft smile tugged back at his lips, as he listened. He wasn't really sure what it meant for him either; he just knew that it was true. "...In some ways, your ignorance is... endearin'. Even cute," he admitted. It was easier to talk like that now, now that he knew their feelings -- whatever they really were -- were mutual. He had no idea the intensity to which Midhir liked him, nor even the intensity with which he liked him back. But it was something, and that was enough.

Jack sat silent for a while as Midhir pondered, mumbled, and showed gratitude. He was stuck in his own thoughts, though unlike Midhir, he failed to really voice them. Those ponderings swirled somewhere in his mind, gravitating closer and further away from his lips, the musings daring to be spoken. When Midhir asked him what it meant, that provided him a chance.

"It means I'd like to kiss you," he whispered. Unlike the other man, he held lesser restraint with where his hands went. He slid one beneath his side, and the other over and around his back, pulling him in so that their chests touched. His features appeared almost neutral, but his eyes depicted passion, intensity, which only became more apparent as they neared the other's more and more.

After a brief moment, he pressed his lips against Midhir's cheek, before following with a soft brush against his lips, holding the kiss for some time before gradually slipping away. "Midhir," he whispered, before leaning to kiss him once more.

[Midhir]

While he was glad even his ignorance was endearing to Jack, he hoped it wasn't something the man would take advantage of. Or, he supposed there were ways he wouldn't mind being taken advantage of, but he didn't have enough context to know how and why. That was a little terrifying, but he was already putting some trust in the man. He supposed he only needed to stop trusting if he was given a reason not to.

Midhir didn't have time to digest and respond to Jack's stated desire before he put his hands on him. But he curved his spine so Jack's hand could slip more easily under him, and didn't protest the sudden, heady closeness. This was closeness with a purpose that was new to him, exhilarating and strange. At least Jack gave him a moment to feel that closeness before he came in with his kisses, to cheek, to lips, a sigh of his name, and then a deeper kiss.

He was flooded with sensations: the scent of Jack's breath, the taste of his tongue, the burning sands of his skin, which must have absorbed the heat and all of the deserts he had left behind. The feel of his hands, the heat of his skin, the questing of his kisses. Midhir's golden eyes remained open, though his lids grew heavy with a sort of sensual weight. The air seemed heavier, alight with something like magic that wasn't magic. He found himself wishing he knew what he was doing; he wanted to be more proactive than reactive, but he supposed Jack was teaching him new things, so he paid attention to every little movement, every little feeling, hoping the tingling and the joy were mutual.

That Jack wasn't taken aback by the crystalline growths on his back was a comfort, and Midhir's hands soon began to explore the other man's skin. He hadn't realized electricity lay just beneath their skin, but the sweep of his hand thrilled his nerves; the sweep of Jack's hands thrilled them all the more.

"Jack," he murmured, more an acknowledgement than anything else. He hadn't known him long, but he saw him. He felt him. Their unlikely friendship was careening ahead and he didn't mind at all.

He found himself nuzzling at the crook between Jack's neck and his shoulder, lips finding soft spots in the man that the Badlands had made hard.

There was a knock at the door.

[Jack]

It was strange to contemplate how suddenly things had changed, though none of it felt wrong, mistaken or rushed. They bodies wrapped together like they were meant to. Midhir's form was new to him, and carried countless new contours and sensations worth exploring, yet he found his hands smoothing across the surface of his skin with acute familiarity. He felt safe around him. Jack more than just liked him, he gravitated him, like an electric current was pulling him in, magnetized and bound.

Their kissing grew only more intense. Jack bade Midhir's mouth open, and when his lips parted, he met his tongue with his own, wrestling with it gently to teach him the ropes. Despite his impassioned nature, he was slow and methodical, keen on teaching the other how to be a proper lover if that was what he was going to be. After a long round of making out, their lips crashing against one another on repeat as their tongues danced, he pulled back and kissed along his jaw, breathing him in. As Midhir buried his face in the crook of his neck, his lips spread open, a low moan of approval escaping them as a rush lit the nerves in his neck alight. Midhir had deftly found his soft spots, indeed.

Knocks met their door. His first reaction was to pause, hoping he had misheard, or that the sounds had been meant for the room down the hall. A second round of knocking swung against the wooden frame, and he knew he was mistaken.

"Fuck," he grunted. "Hold on, baby, I'll get the door."

Baby. Jack cringed at himself; it wasn't a word particularly common out here in Daravin, but in the Badlands it was a... common form of endearment. Given his surroundings, though, the word felt off.

Nevertheless, he climbed over him and steadily approached the door. When it was open, he wordlessly accepted the food without so much as a thanks, before gesturing with his head that the housekeeper shut the door given that his hands were full. When it was shut behind him, he set the food down on the end table, before returning to the door to lock it once again. As hungry as he had been, the idea of eating now killed him when all he wanted to do was lock lips with the other man, and feel his bare skin.

"Chorizo, beans, and rice. Well -- at least they serve Raillen food here," he remarked, sitting on the bed beside Midhir's head and running his fingers through his hair. "Come on. We'll eat together, then we can... resume. Or sleep." Resuming sounded nice, obviously, though the man was becoming tired. He could push himself on for another hour or so, but not at his best. Sleep, after food, sounded good. "Oh, and as for what me likin' you means long-term? It means we should stick together, to Amoren. And beyond that... if you'd like. It means... I'll be your guy. ...You know?"

[Midhir]

A knock, another knock, and then Jack was cursing and climbing over him. His hand touched Jack, sliding along until the man was out of reach and hanging in the air for a moment before coming back to rest on his chest. It was probably good they were interrupted; there was quite a bit to process. He was sitting up, watching Jack move. He even smiled when Jack returned to sit beside him, to touch his hair. The man didn't comment on the crystalline crown that he kept filed down, which was also probably good. He wasn't embarrassed by it exactly, and he supposed it would be nice if Jack liked the things about him that made him strangely unique physically.

Chorizo, beans, and rice, but Midhir's mouth came down to Jack's bare shoulder. He didn't know if it was allowed when it was time to eat, but at least he could get away with mistakes while he was still ignorant. He kissed Jack's shoulder, let the tip of his tongue flick against the skin. It hadn't occurred to him that a person would taste good or not.

"I want to go to Amoren with you," he said decisively. He had already decided unofficially, but now he said it out loud. "And... when you're healed, if you still want me around, perhaps I'll follow you beyond." Or perhaps he would have figured out his own path and Jack would follow him. Or perhaps they would discover a shared path and they would just walk it side-by-side rather than with some sort of hierarchy of importance.

"And I want to eat with you, and sleep with you. And kiss you more, though... you look tired. We can kiss in the morning. I'll be up early. I'll brush my teeth first thing." He grinned. His hand reached out to graze Jack's belly, and then he let it rest there as if feeling for the growls that would let them know he was starving. He ought to be. They had only had a few small snacks on the road.

"Let's eat, baby."

[Jack]

Jack didn't mind the crystalline growth over him, though in truth, he had barely acknowledged or even recognized it in the face of their sudden turn towards those... mutual passions, jubilant and overwhelming. It wasn't until he was sitting up, looking down at the other before Midhir rose to sit beside him, that he really focused his gaze on the odd characteristics of Midhir's exposed skin. None of it felt too far from what he knew. Smoother, softer maybe. The glass-like sheen was attractive to him, and as embarrassing as it was to admit, he found it... sort of cool. There was a lot he liked about the Sil'norai -- Midhir, and all of them.

When Midhir's mouth met his shoulder, he smiled warmly, pulling him into his side and stroking along his triceps with his fingertips. Jack grunted softly as Midhir continued to kiss his bare skin, not even contemplating for a moment that he cease. It felt good, to be regarded with such admiration again. The other man was pulling from him feelings that had long been dormant, and in their distant isolation, their longing had only grown.

"Of course I'll still want you around, dummy," he replied, kissing Midhir on the forehead and letting out a light chuckle. "I wanted you around even before all this. Now? Good luck gettin' me to let you go."

When you're healed. He shut his eyes for a moment, feeling a pang in his chest. Not... a good one. There was a very real chance he wouldn't be healed at all. That there was no hope for him. That this was among his last, dying gasps. He hoped that wasn't so. This was... such a compelling reason to live for.

"We'll eat, sleep and kiss every night, how about that?" he asked, kissing him again as if to punctuate his point. Midhir's enthusiasm was only making his own worse, something he appreciated and feared. There was nothing holding him back -- nothing stopping him from getting too fond, too close. He wanted that, but also dreaded it. Impending death motivated him on, but also filled him with an undercurrent of guilt. It was too latent and small to interact with now, but it loomed somewhere nearby, out of sight. A feeling he knew would re-emerge.

It was easy enough to ignore for the moment, at least. The Elven man helped dull those worrisome thoughts every step of the way; his touch, most of all, made him feel at ease.

"I think... I have a surprise for you in the mornin', too," he nodded, kissing the other on the cheek before lifting his bowl and digging in with his fork. "But, yeah -- for now, let's eat. I really like this meal. Hope you do, too." He was glad; he hadn't ordered it explicitly, only whatever package they offered for evening food. Fortune smiled on him today, apparently. He took that in stride. "Now I feel really bad for cussin' at you in Lucano," he laughed. "Didn' know you were going to end up bein' mine."

[Midhir]

Jack's eyes felt good on him, too. They made him uncomfortable but in a good way. The man's confidence that he wanted Midhir by his side indefinitely was strange, but not unwelcome. The little revelations of Jack's feelings were surprises to him, surprises that he wanted to see coming in the future, so he would have to study Jack. He hoped Jack liked his eyes on him as much as Midhir liked feeling them. But even now, he recognized how his words had given the man pause. Healed. Well, Midhir didn't know enough to decide what was optimism and what was realism, but Jack seemed to err on the side of pessimism, so he would have to balance that with hope even if Jack lost his.

"I like that plan," he attested, knowing that would perk Jack up. "Although, from what I understand... that much kissing might lead to other things." He grinned with more excitement than anything else, though he might have balked at those other things coming so quickly and him all unprepared. But Jack seemed to intuit a good pace for them.

"A surprise," he echoed, and then tucked into his food. Nodding agreement, he didn't speak with his mouth full. If this was also to Jack's taste, then they oughtn't to argue much about food in the future, at least.

"S'good," he managed after swallowing. "And the cursing didn't hurt me naught. I must be charming, though, if you were cussing me out in Lucano and kissing me by Liore."

He laughed and went back to his meal, liking how their bare arms brushed each other while they ate. When they were done, he took the tray and set it outside for someone to pick up and made sure to lock the door so Jack would feel safe. Turning down the lights, he figured they could kiss in the dark as easily as in the light. While he would miss the sight of Jack, his other senses could still feast. The word mine had given him pause, but he knew that he would just have to learn how to make this a healthy attachment, and not the sort that harmed them. It felt good, though, that someone he liked wanted him to belong to him, as much as a person could belong to another.

Midhir made a decision in the moonlight coming from the window. He pushed his trousers down to puddle around his feet and stepped out of them, then climbed into the bed where Jack had made space for him. They did kiss and when ardor gave way to comfortable sleepiness, Midhir murmured, "And don't worry, Jack. If the healing doesn't take, I'll still want to go with you."

fin.