judgementor | [Aefenglom IC Inbox]

[ Ah. That touch to the base of his horns... Goosebumps erupt across Steak's skin as his neck tingles from that simple motion, and he makes a soft noise into the kiss as they continue. It's strange, foreign to feel a hand other than his own so close to the base of his horns, but it isn't unpleasant.

Not if it's someone he knows as well as he knows Red Wine ]

Don't get confused, I still hate you. [ He murmurs that against Red Wine's mouth, not allowing time for a comeback as he nips Red Wine's lip with his teeth.

Steak? Fond of Red Wine? What a ridiculous notion. ]

Yes, yes, I hate you too.

[Of course he does.

The fact he despises Steak has absolutely nothing to do with the way he's settled warmly against him, the way he's tracing the shape of one horn as it slowly moves more into the realm of 'familiar'. It has nothing at all to do with the way he keeps kissing him, and the way he's enjoying it.]

But you waltzed in here and kissed me.

And?

[ Does he need to like Red Wine to kiss him? Don't humans talk about hatesex in their literature a lot? ]

I was — [ And here, Steak takes a breath and grips Red Wine hard, rolling him onto his back in one swift motion. ] — curious.

[ Another kiss, brief and firm before Steak's mouth finds Red Wine's jaw, trailing kisses across bone. ]

Ah--

[Steak is stronger now than he remembers him ever being and being pulled around like that is far too easily done. Red Wine's back hits the bed and he doesn't make a sound, no startled exhale of breath, then as a warm kiss falls to his neck--

He laughs.

Red Wine laughs and gives Steak's shoulders a half-hearted shove.]

I'm not some plaything for you to test your curiosity on.

[ His chimera form seems to have exaggerated all his strengths in a way that could be terrifying if Steak didn't spend so much time working with his body, fighting things in the Wilde or lifting boxes at DiplomaTea. Now, everything's easier.

It's one of the few things he likes about this curse.

But that's besides the point right now, as his mouth continues to explore exposed bits of skin, teeth grazing lightly against Red Wine's neck when his shoulder is shoved. ]

Then why did you kiss me?! [ Despite the grumbles, despite anything their traditions and his pride may dictate, Steak's kisses don't stop their path down Red Wine's neck until they meet the fabric of a collar and he breaks contact to, very maturely, glower at the inanimate object blocking his path. ]

You kissed me. [He points out immediately, tilting his head slightly and then pulling Steak lightly away from his neck with one hand fisted gently in his hair when he reaches his collar.

He wants to look at him while he talks.]

Then you insisted when I said 'no', and you're still doing it.

[Red Wine's eyebrows raise slightly.]

So what, exactly, do you want?

[ A soft gasp leaves Steak's lips as Red Wine pulls him back, surprise written on his face at the hand in his hair. ]

I meant the first time.

[ He was perfectly fine having minimal curiosity about kisses or Red Wine but then he had to go and kiss him, had to go and make Steak feel as though he's been missing something for those last two centuries of living.

Had to make him think about something other than his duty of being a warrior. ]

Ah... mhn.

[He isn't tense this time. His grip in Steak's hair loosens and he combs through it instead, his eyes half-lidding as he watches the dense curls fall through his fingers. It's a long few moments before he looks at Steak again, meeting his eyes with a brief thinning of his lips and a faintly furrowed brow.]

I suppose I did. [Red Wine mutters, huffing out a little chuckle.]

But you were the one who made it mean something.

[ Steak, on the other hand, is, and the tension comes with the too-sharp realisation that it's easier when they don't talk about things. Like in battle together, it's better when they simply flow in and out of what the other is doing without question or worry. He doesn't have to question anything, doesn't have to look at Red Wine and sit with the knot heavy in his stomach, the one which leaves his heartbeat drumming a rhythm all wrong for it.

He ducks his head out from Red Wine's grip, cheeks distinctly pink, and seats himself on the bed, tentacles draped over thighs like armour, a barricade between the two. ]

A-and? What about it?

[ God of Beginnings, this would be easier if it was anyone else on Tierra or in Aefenglom. But with Red Wine, every admission, every step closer to uncovering the true name of the knot in his stomach, feels like accepting a loss in their neverending battles. ]

[There's a distinctly chilly sensation over him the moment he doesn't have Steak's body pressing against him anymore, and Red Wine doesn't move right away. He presses both hands to his face and lets out a loud, aggravated-sounding groan against his palms.

This. This is why he said they shouldn't do this. That it couldn't happen. His restraint briefly falters and a flash of annoyance and stinging disappointment escapes into the bond between them.]

Alright.

[Fucking-- damn it. He sits up and scrapes his hand through his hair.]

Is this a game for you, Steak? Just something to pass the time? I don't appreciate being toyed with. Either it means something or it doesn't, and you're going to decide right now.

[Because this isn't them. It isn't how they are... but maybe it could be, and maybe Red Wine would like that.]

[ He feels that. Through the confusion, the pride, the thing that has him retreating from everything beneath it.

Fear. A cloud of it which keeps that knot and the ache in his heart from getting names, because maybe it's just better for them to stay the way they always were. A wordless, nameless something. More than enemies, rivals, friends but refusing to be family.

It's easier to tell Bloody Mary that Red Wine is the Soul he will always stand by than it is to tell Red Wine himself, and why is that? ]

You...

[ For once, the word is a quiet breath, head bowed and hands digging into the flesh of his tentacles. Gods, Red Wine makes him so angry. It's a switch that flips, each and every time; his demands, his needless flourishes and touches, his complaints and insistences.

And, for once, he remembers his Master Attendant in a moment of his youth, a moment's downtime in all their work, glowering at the retreating back of his fiancée and complaining to Steak. She infuriates me! She's so reckless, so stupid. Why am I to wed her?

Steak had simply shook his head and pointed out that they were still on the clock, that this wasn't the time for his Attendant's personal problems. Because his Master Attendant was an idiot, unable to see the obvious truth of the way his cheeks flushed every time he began complaining, or to understand that he worried about his fiancée in ways he worried about no one else — not his men, nor his Food Soul.

And Steak's always been so much like his Attendant, hasn't he?

His shoulders tremble, fingers curling into his tentacles until the limbs ache, and Steak huffs out a laugh despite himself.

He's an idiot. ]

Fine. [ There was only ever one real answer, wasn't there? The one which was buried under two centuries of bickering, the one which necessitated his journey back to the Countess' palace, his suggestion that they bond, all of it.

It's just been easier to leave it unsaid. ]

—You mean more to me than just a promise I made to my Master Attendant. You always have. [ You better appreciate this, Red Wine, because this is hard, this has every time-ingrained instinct of what they are screaming in protest.

He'll take the loss here. For once. ]

Why would I waste my time on something meaningless? [ Just saying. He has so many other things he could be doing instead of kissing someone he doesn't care to be kissing. ]

[This isn't them, this isn't how they are, but Steak had pressed it and insisted and now he could reap the rewards of that insistence. Red Wine grips the edge of the bed while he narrows his attention down onto Steak's face, onto what he can feel from him, waiting for him to trip up and say something stupid enough that he can call this entire thing off and draw a line beneath it.

Because isn't it easier to simply go on as they were? He could kick himself for every time he'd let Steak get that close. For kissing him.

But Steak has been there for him from the very beginning of all this. From the first changes that were pressed upon them and through every attempt of Red Wine's to push him away. And he had tried, even after they had linked themselves together in a way that made it impossible.

He hears exactly what he wants to hear, only realising it's what he needs to hear when the words leave Steak's mouth. He looks down at his hands, twisting pale fingers together before one hand holds the other own to stop the fidgeting. His eyes half-lid, a wry smile coming to his lips.]

You wouldn't, would you. [That is something he will grudgingly concede.] And you know--... I wouldn't have stayed for so long just because of a promise.

[Not if he really hated him. Not if he really couldn't stand to be around him.]

... I am glad you're here, Steak. I want you to know that.

[ It has always been easier like that, when they had nothing else to worry about but whatever work they were doing. They could create their own problems and arguments and never worry about what it meant for who they were together.

They liked fighting, whether it was evil or each other. But now, here in Aefenglom, Steak watches Red Wine turn into the one thing Steak had always assured him would be impossible, watches him splinter and fracture as each month something new and terrible befalls him.

Their fights, nowadays, come with venom and broken spirits, and even Steak is forced to look within at what all of it means.

And, perhaps, it means the same thing his Master Attendant's anger did when Madame tried to offer herself as bait to a murderer.

He scowls as Red Wine replies, not because he hates those words but because they're new. Raw. Unfamiliar. They're nothing he's accustomed to hearing from the bastard, and his face doesn't know what to do.

(But, if he's honest with himself, his heart lightens, just a touch.) ]

Come here.

[ He unwinds his hands from his tentacles and lifts his head from where it had steadfastly been glowering at his lap, reaching out to wrap an arm around Red Wine's shoulder and yank him flush against his side.

It isn't gentle, but then, they are still themselves, after all. ]

[Steak wouldn't let him keep pushing him away, so Red Wine had found other ways to do it. Other ways to keep him out. Other ways to make sure that he never really knew what was going on. He would always rail against not being permitted his secrets - at least some - despite how much Steak hates to allow him any at all.

It's awkward, and he expects it to end right there. Steak getting up and leaving would not have been entirely unanticipated, even after everything that had been said. But instead...]

... Fine.

[Something lightens, just a touch, and he doesn't complain too much about the rough way he's handled. It's how they are, after all. He leans against Steak's side and shoots a brief look up at him, something small and puzzled crossing his face for a moment before it's gone just as quickly as it appeared.]

So... what now.

[ He blinks, and if Red Wine ever needed more proof that Steak doesn't think things out that far, here it is. Because he really didn't think out what else there was to do, or where they're even meant to go from here.

Then again, he didn't even think out where things would go after he'd resolved to try kissing Red Wine. So. Maybe he isn't the brightest. ]

... I don't know.

[ So maybe he'll just admit that much. He has no idea what now, but it feels right to have Red Wine pressed against him like this.

Once upon a time, he would have said it was just the bond.

Today, he isn't so sure. ]

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