Diamond Eyes [Lion!] [M]

[Cheesigator]

Loa watched Vander intently, watching his form and pose, only to get distracted when he turned and smiled at him. It made his cheeks get warmer. Gods dammit.

"Scary?" He echoed quietly, eyebrows knitting in confusion under the flight helmet. Why would it be scary? It was a perfectly normal thing, happened all the time actually. Some days were worse than others.

He hesitated for a moment as Vander stepped back over after not hitting all of the pins to sit down beside him. He knew he should get up because it was his turn next, but he stayed there, looking at him while the man spoke out of respect. Funny, he never would've thought a few weeks ago he could've ever respected somebody, particularly a guy like Vander. But maybe it was his good-naturedness and charisma that he respected the most.

The other Pilot said he could hang out with him, and admitted that he liked being around Loa, which just surprised and confused him. Why?? Nobody liked being around him, hell he didn't like being around himself. He'd never understood why Ru liked him either. He wasn't a guy to make friends with and share a beer with and watch movies with. He was just... A guy that existed. That nobody knew and everyone ignored, because that's the way he always felt it should be, even when he was a kid.

He looked away, realizing his fingers had curled into loose fists, and quickly stood up to go get the bowling ball and take his turn next. He should tell Vander that he hated him, hated spending time with him, that way this shit could end right here and right now.

But he didn't want to. He didn't want this to end. The thought of it tore his heart to pieces. Vander was the first real person he could call a friend in some ten years.

"You're not half bad yourself." He said, and let the ball go rolling down the lane. 5 out of 10, alright that wasn't too horrible. He turned, looking at Vander as he gave the man a shrug. "Had nightmares since I was about 16. I deal with it. Haven't had any major problems yet. But I'll keep your offer in mind."

[Lion]

Of course it was scary. What part of that didn't this guy understand? If he'd seen someone just lying, sprawled across a bed looking as pale as he was with little to no pulse, Vander would be scared again and again. No so much because he was dead. No, previous missions meant he'd seen dead bodies before.

But it was different when you were blowing up people that were trying to kill you, as opposed to someone else who you had drinks with, shared sushi with, hell shot pumpkins with. Knowing someone was alive and then abruptly not alive was jarring for him. He had his squadmates and not much else, now that he thought about it.

And he very much didn't enjoy entertaining the thought of something bad happening to Loa.

He hadn't been expecting much in the way of a response. But it did seem as if this guy was getting mellower and mellower the more time they spent together. Didn't seem like he got out much, and if it was pity he thought was what made Vander want to hang out, then he'd be wrong. Maybe they both just had gaps that needed bridges across them.

"Oh...um, yeah cool." He didn't know he sounded so crestfallen even as he though he'd spoken casually. As it were, the invitation was there and just not being shot down immediately was something that he tried to smile about. Small bridges today, meant to larger bridges tomorrow. Maybe. Probably.

"I don't think I've ever had a bad dream that I really remember," he admitted, tallying the points and quirking his brow. Still in the lead, but not by much if he kept letting himself get distracted. He took his turn and concentrated on the lane in front of him. Target practice right? He'd blown up pumpkins. Maybe aim didn't matter so much when you were looking to make a mess, but for now, he wanted that ball to strike at a central point.

So he kept himself steady and launched it, getting another strike.

"What kind of nightmares are these? You have some about some dark and mysterious stranger?" he murmured, curious and only partly trying to make light of it. Easy does it after all.

[Cheesigator]

Loa might not have known everything there was to know about people, but he did recognize that disappointment in Vander's voice, which caught him by surprise.

Here he thought he'd just done the equivalent of successfully running a first marathon, because it'd been hard to admit that he liked Vander, instead of just outright lying and saying that he hated him. It was already bad enough he'd practically ignored the guy for the past two weeks.

He didn't... Really know how to respond. How to fix it, how to make the man happy.

For some reason that tugged at his heart and he thought it again; how could he make Vander happy?

Because he wanted to. He just didn't know how.

His shoulders tensed a little and he looked back down the lane as the machine reset the bowling pins, he didn't sit this time as the other man came up to try his hand next after tallying points, which Loa had completely forgotten about till now.

The game had just been an excuse. But why? What did Vander want to get from this? It was giving Loa a migraine just thinking about it. What if he was way smarter than Loa had thought him to be, what if he was just doing this for his own gain. But what could he possibly gain from hanging out with someone like him? He couldn't understand it, it didn't make any sense.

He hesitated when the man asked him what the nightmares were about; his first instinct was to say it was none of his business and leave because this was frustrating and he hated being so lost and confused. He wasn't used to it. But something held him back and he bit his tongue, arguing with himself. Should he say anything? Should he lie? Should he change the topic?

"They're about my friend." He said quietly, and that was all he said. The ball came back up for his turn, but he lingered, still staring at the pins for few moments of silence before he shook himself out of it and took his turn, aiming and getting 7 out of the 10.

"Did you have any plans after this?" He asked, trying to change the subject and throw something out there that might make the man happy. Might make him cheer up a little. He seemed to like doing stuff, right? If this didn't work he had no fuckin clue.

[Lion]

Nightmares about his friend. Nightmares that seemed to be a regular thing considering how casual Loa was about them and how many empty alcohol bottles, he'd found when he'd thought he was dead. But he was trying to play it off; Vander didn't need to be a genius to know that he didn't want to talk about it and probably would rather they both just dropped that particular subject.

Fair enough and far be it from him to press just when things were going so well. The game went on and keeping score was a good way to stay focused, in the here and now.

"Oh, pfft, just crashing on my couch, watching some tv, having a few drinks and working on my little bots. Wanna come help? You don't need to know much about tech stuff to watch. They like having company around once in a while. I'm sure they get real tired of hanging around me all the time."

The last one was a joke. He was a technopath, sure, but he knew that even they were still just machines and just did what they were programmed to do.

"Or we can go someplace else? Do you ever get tired of being cooped up in that apartment all the time?"

[Cheesigator]

Inwardly Loa let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling like he'd just saved the world from mass destruction because Vander seemed to perk up at the topic of what to do after their bowling game.

He was extremely grateful that the man didn't press forward with the issue of his nightmares, because he didn't want to talk about them. He just wished they would go away again; he'd been doing so well up until a few weeks ago, and then they'd started to come back and torment him again.

But that was neither here nor there.

He paused, looking at Vander and slowly shaking his helmet head. "No, I--Just going back to your place sounds fine." He said, quietly, looking away again as if he couldn't make eye contact even with the visor over his face--because he couldn't.

"Yeah, my apartment is pretty depressing." He admitted, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling nervous now that he'd just gone and doomed himself even further than he already had. "Besides, I would like to watch you work. I'm curious."

None of these were things he should've been telling him but he just found it so easy to open up to this pain in the ass of a guy he just couldn't help it. Being with him was as relaxing and comforting as it was horrifying and anxiety-inducing. He wasn't sure if he loved it or hated it.

Hell. He would probably die before he ever figured out the answer to that question.

[Lion]

"Well, ok then, as long as you tell me when you actually get bored and want to leave because the bottom line is...running out is a little rude," Vander whispered. He didn't mean anything malicious by the comment, yet as it stood, it was something that Loa had done twice, once in sheer terror, and the other quietly with at least a thank you note.  Vander appreciated the second one more than the first and before he would let Loa linger on that fact he stood up and stalked over to take his turn.

The game went on in much the same way with a few casual comments here and their, Vander dancing terribly in those ugly ass bowling shoes, and mock grunting as he tallied up their points at last and suddenly went, "Uh-uh! Nah! I...wow, I can't believe it. Loa, you son of a bitch. You won."

He took the tablet displaying their points and gestured to where his numbers added up. "Well, shit! First timer's luck, or however that saying goes," he said with a mock glare, although his expression was difficult to read under that visor.

A small smirk played on his lips and he pursed them. In that moment he really wished that Loa had worn the rag, or better yet didn't wear that awful helmet at all because the temptation to lift it and kiss him was making his lips tingle. Vander bit his lower lip a moment, letting the smirk linger as he stood up, and took his hand instead, tucking it into the crook of his arm.

"Let's get out of here. That was a good game but I want a rematch," he said.  Back outside he hailed a shuttle back to the Citadel, back to his apartment, all the while catching sidelong glances to Loa, picturing his features beneath the reflective helmet. The black set against the visor, the pallor of skin underneath that. Sweet skin that was a little too cool to the touch.

Once they arrived back at his place, Vander let him in first and set his jacket on the hook. "Welcome to Huxley Deluxely Manor," he coughed.  A pause and he reached up loosen the visor from his face and rest it up by his forehead. He'd put it back on when he was working.  "You can....um, take your helmet off if you want. Can't see you all that clearly remember?"

[Cheesigator]

At Vander's oh-so-casual comment about how Loa had literally run away from the man's apartment twice now, he tensed up and resisted the urge to flip him the bird out of sheer spite. He knew the guy had a point it just... He didn't know how to do this. How to be friends with someone, how to go to their apartment, hang out for a bit and then leave. He didn't understand and hadn't done it in somany years he'd forgotten.

Not even to mention the fact that he'd been having a panic attack the one time and the other he'd slipped into depression. He felt both instances were perfectly justified.

Still, he said nothing, preferring to eat his words and play the game with Vander so the other Pilot would stay happy. Somehow, he won the game, which he just shrugged at in response.

"Pure chance." Was all he said before agreeing to get on out of here, even if he had enjoyed a few certain moments of it so far.

He was surprised when Vander took his hand and led the way; it made Loa blush under the helmet as he found his gaze gravitating towards him, committing every detail of the image to memory. They boarded the shuttle and he tried not to stare at him, with Vander sitting next to him it would've made it obvious with his helmet if he was looking at him. So he missed Vander's lingering looks and glances, eyes instead focused on eveeryone else. He tried to stay alert simply for the fact that it helped him focus on something other than his nervousness.

They found themselves at Vander's place after having left the shuttle and made their way back to the Pilot housing. He hesitated for a brief moment as Vander opened the door and gestured for him to go first, and he hovered by the door while the other man came in and took off his visor, casually suggesting Loa could do the same if he wanted.

Yeah, he remembered. Hoped Vander wasn't kidding around, saying he was blind without the visor when he really wasn't. But the way it sat on his forehead made Loa's stomach queasy; it would only take a brief second for him to pull them back down and see Loa's face. That thought alone was terrifying.

He didn't know how to turn it down so he just shrugged after supposedly pondering it for a moment and said "Maybe later."

The last thing he needed was for the other Pilot to notice him staring and think he was a creeper moreso than he probably already did.

"So what is it you've been working on, lately?" He asked, turning the topic of conversation to something else yet again as he followed Vander like a lost duckling and sat in whatever room--probably the living room--Vander seemed to want to stick around in first.

[Lion]

"Lately it's been improvements on the little moomba robot, the little sweeper that takes care of the floors," Vander explained, shrugging out of his jacket and he laying it on the back of a chair. He maneuvered around his furniture like it was nothing with that visor hanging loosely on his forehead. Yeah, just one slip and he could put it back on, and although Loa didn't want to remove his helmet, he didn't have to.

He got his tools out from a side cabinet revealing that a few of the other machinations he'd been working on, piecing together and what spare parts he could take from one doohickey and add to another. For all intents and purposes nothing here wasn't recycled, nothing was wasted, and even that which wasn't yet used, Vander would find a purpose for it.

That's all anyone wanted it? Some kind of purpose?

Vander took a seat and pointed to the little circular disc cleaner that lay sprawled out on his workbench. It wasn't moving at this time and it's small ball bearings that maneuvered it around the floor were being polished and repaired. Vander did drop that visor back down and he kept his eyes down to the object before him.

"Wanna help me?" he offered.  "You're good with your hands right? Think you can handle a few simple tools?"

[Cheesigator]

Loa watched him in silence, gray eyes never leaving the other man as he went about taking his jacket off; he noticed the taught muscles under Vander's shirt, the way his shoulder blades seemed to cut through the fabric with the way the shadows played on his back.

He felt really lucky right now, to be able to share this moment and appreciate everything Vander was, as he was many things, both good and bad.

"I see." Was all he really had to say; of course in his desperation he hadn't thought before changing the topic of conversation to something he knew nothing about.

Then again, he really didn't know much of anything at all.

" .. My hands are trained for murder." He said bluntly in response to the other Pilot's offer, but stood up and came over to join him nevertheless. "Guess I can still attempt. Just don't let me do anything important so I don't break it."

The closeness between the two of them made his heart skip a bwat, and he wasn't sure if he was an idiot for accepting the invitation to help, or the world's biggest moron.

[Lion]

"Hands made for murder. Yup that's one hell of an ice breaker," he laughed, although it was more in the spirit of the moment than anything at Loa. Vander made sure to turn it into a cheeky grin before deciding that Loa ought to help anyway. "You've sold me on that resume, recruit. Ok. You've got the job. All you have to do is take up that stool, and we're getting that screw driver and all those little metal helixes - those are the screws - and we're putting them back into the moomba.

"Earlier I saudered in a new mapping chip and interfaced with it, so it can better navigate the apartment and avoid bumping into walls as it did before," he explained. Vander showed Loa the tools, the small screw driver and watched him work as he held down the little machine.

He was quiet, just letting himself admire the focus that went into each movement.  "Excellent, Easy does it." Vander slowly pushed himself off the stool and grabbed two beers from the fridge. There was a moment of hesitation. And he figured if it was only one, it couldn't hurt, and this particular stuff was only cider, more sweet than sour anyway.

"Oh I didn't know you had a tattoo," he was about to begin. Except it wasn't a tattoo. And having only gotten a glimpse at the side of his wrist. Vander set the beers to the side and he reached forward gently to pause Loa's work.

"What....what have you done?" he breathed, pushing the other man's sleeve up. And seeing the red lines along his wrist.

[Cheesigator]

Well, what did Vander expect? It was true.

Loa couldn't help but stare at him for a second when he said he'd been sold on his resume, clearly a joke but in this case he didn't think it was a good one because his resume was particularly shit. He knew fuck all nothing about machinery, and he tried to ignore the nervousness that bubbled up from his gut as he seated himself on the stool after a clear moment of hesitation, taking the screwdriver as instructed and carefully rotating each piece into place, locking it in nice and tight.

He hadn't even put his desk or a bookshelf together before, so it was nice to see that at least the project Vander had in mind was easy enough. The technopath's praise made his heart flutter, though the closeness in proximity as Vander leaned over him to watch him work made his heart race. He could feel the very edges of the man's breaths on the backs of his hands and it made it real hard to focus.

Eventually, as he was finishing up, Vander got up to go get some beers or something. He was kind of amazed the guy even still trusted him with alcohol of any sort, but he wasn't one to complain. Besides, he was almost done--

"Oh I didn't know you had a tattoo."

Loa paused for a moment, his heart damn near stopping as his subconscious realized what was about to happen before the rest of him did.

"What? A tat--" He started to question the man in confusion before suddenly his hands were stopped in the middle of setting down the tools and parts.

For a moment, it felt as if things were moving in slow motion. Loa's eyes darted to his hands where Vander had stopped them and he saw it; his jacket sleeve had pulled back just enough as he was reaching over, and the red self-inflicted marks were obvious against such pale skin. He should've known better, he should've fucking known--

He tried to quickly snatch his hands away but Vander was quicker, yanking his sleeve up as he was lifting his arm to keep it out of reach, therefor displaying the marks quite clearly as the light splashed down on them and made it all to obvious what they were, what they were from.

"What....what have you done?"

Those words rang out in Loa's ears as his heartbeat froze and panic flooded through him in waves. He heard it. The disappointment. The beginnings of much stronger emotions and he had no way of knowing what Vander would do or how he would react or what he was about to say. He stood up from the stool because he didn't want to stick around long enough to find out, but if he tried running now he knew Vander would probably be expecting it.

What could he do? The horror was seizing him up, making him freeze as he stared at Vander and the twisted look on his face through his flight helmet visor.

I don't understand. Why does he care? I'm an adult. I understand the consequences, I know what it is I do. Why is he asking me?

Why does he even bother when I'm not worth it?

He quickly yanked his sleeve back down, pulling his hand to his chest, worried about the consequences now. Terrified of what Vander was going to do.

"Nothing, i-it's nothing--" He quickly stammered, the world's shittiest excuse and probably the worst words he could have chosen and he knew it the moment they came out of his mouth. But what else could he say? His heart was in his throat and he felt like he was about to throw up. What else could he do?

[Lion]

The cold sickness that fell upon Vander's stomach in that moment made him forget all about the beer. All about the little moomba vacuum machine that he'd been fixing up in the meantime. He forgot that he'd been here with Loa to try and make amends for...however the other man perceived to be a reason to stay away from him.  He forgot all of that and all he felt was white-hot rage burning in his veins.

He just let the other man wrench away from him, as he stood from the stool and those awful words falling from his lips. Vander was at a total and complete loss. Part of him wanted him to shout uselessly at him until he was hoarse, the other part wanted to do nothing more than to ask him to leave. The Pilot Cardinal reached out for him gently and took in a deep breath.

"Loa...that's not nothing," he began and just when he was afraid the other man would spook and skedaddle out that door Vander did the only thing he could think to do and reached moved faster than he hoped Loa could.

Instinctively his arms fell around him and he wrapped a defensive Loa into a tight embrace and ducked his head in against his shoulder.  "Loa. It's ok. You don't have to run away. Not from me, I'm sorry I scared you," he breathed out and murmured loud enough for the other man to hear even through his helmet.

[Cheesigator]

Loa was no empath. And if he could've thought about it, this would have been one of the strongest circumstances where he would've been glad he wasn't one. Because even without that kind of a skill, he could've sworn he could feel the rage building up in the room, between the two of them.

He recognized it in the tenseness of the other Pilot's shoulders, his stance, his elevated heartbeat, the way his blood rushed, and was probably scalding hot.

There had been one time that Ru had ever noticed or spoken of Loa's scars, and it'd been in a situation very similar to this. In fact, Loa was having flashbacks, remembering his friend yelling and screaming at him, and he braced himself for the inevitable, getting ready to take a step back and run. His heart was hammering in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears and every instinct telling him to run. He wasn't safe here, he was very much in danger of getting beaten to smithereens and he had no idea what Vander was capable of--and worse yet, he already knew he wouldn't have fought back.

Not with Vander.

Either he could run, or he could take the beating and suffer the guilt and the shame either way, and the moment the other Pilot started to move towards him, and he heard it, just the barest hint of that angry tone in his voice, Loa started to bolt. He didn't care if it was cowardly, he didn't want to face Vander like this, ever.

And yet the other man was quicker; he felt arms wrap around him as he tried to take a step back, knocking the stool over onto the floor and just about tripping on it. Vander's embrace helped him keep his balance but he panicked, his fight or flight response floundering like a fish out of water because he refused to fight back but now running wasn't an option, and he could swear he couldn't fucking breathe, the fear was suffocating him and--

"Loa. It's ok. You don't have to run away. Not from me, I'm sorry I scared you."

Loa blinked behind his helmet, eyes wide.

The words were enough to give him a moment of clarity, a break in the surface to breathe before he kept drowning.

... What?

It didn't make any sense. What was this? Was he being hugged? Or was this a trap, to lure him into a false sense of security so he could get yelled at again?

And yet the feeling of Vander's head on his shoulder, the breath he let out and the tone of voice, though strained, it... Loa didn't know. He was so conflicted, so confused, and so abruptly brought out of his own head back into the right here and now it was as if he'd been plucked from planet earth and dropped onto an undiscovered alien planet with absolutely no rhyme or reason.

He glanced around the room, like he was trying to find some kind of evidence that maybe something had happened in the seconds that had passed, that perhaps he'd missed it, his brain had shut it out. But there was no overturned furniture, other than the stool behind him. No evidence of a struggle. Nothing. He hadn't missed anything at all.

His breaths evened out from the short, panicked and near silent gasps of a few moments ago, as slowly his muscles started to relax and the confusion set in as the shock ebbed away. He'd never gotten this kind of a reaction before. Even Ru had yelled at him.

So... Once again Loa found himself with no clue how to respond.

He hesitated a moment, before slowly reaching up and resting his hands at Vander's sides, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as he tried to figure out what to do, where to go from here. Hell, what he should even say.

"I'm sorry."

He blurted it, didn't really know why he'd picked those words to say but fuck it he might as well keep rolling with it.

"It keeps me grounded." He swallowed. "In reality. Makes me focus on something else." Something other than his stupid fever dreams, his nightmares. Made him focus on exercising control over his powers, patience. Almost like meditation, he supposed. Even if it also doubled as punishment.

"I'm sorry."

His voice trembled.

[Lion]

The initial squirming was to be expected. No scratch that. It was beyond what he expected. For someone that was good at bloodwork, in murdering, Loa could have probably dispensed Vander with little more than a knee to the groin and be done with it. Out the door.

Vander didn't want him to leave though, and thus resorted to hugging him, keeping him solidly against him. So that no matter how much he squirmed, he wasn't going to get away. Vander leveled out his breathing and relaxed against Loa to get him to calm next to him.

"I'm not mad," he lied, speaking in that same gentle even tone. Of course he was mad, anyone in their right mind would be right bloody pissed off. Because normal people didn't do that and something deep inside told Vander that being angry with him would only make it worse.

"It's ok." It wasn't.

"I know you're a hemokinetic, but at least let me take a look at them? Get you decently patched up?"

His hand moved in small circles up and down Loa's back, gentle and he brought his head back to look at that glossy helmet.

[Cheesigator]

Even Loa knew that when Vander said he wasn't mad that it was a lie. He could still hear the other man's heart pounding, could hear the sound of his blood rushing through his veins even if it had slowed down tremendously in comparison to the raging tide it had been before.

Why was he lying, though?

What good did it do him to keep that anger contained inside, what point was there in lying to Loa and pretending as if everything was okay? Loa knew it wasn't okay, he knew what he did was broken, a dysfunctional mess that woupd make any other person cringe. The drinking, the cutting, refusal to leave his apartment. But knowing that it was bad obviously wasn't about to stop him from doing it, and no amount of yelling would, either.

So did he lie because he recognized how poimtless it truly was?

Loa tried swallowing down the shame that came over him, enveloping him in a cloak and tugging itself so tightly around him he couldn't even begin to think about looking at Vander as the other man pulled away.

He wanted to check Loa's wounds, and the Pilot Echo recoiled a little at the suggestion. He didn't know what he should do. If he showed them fully wouldn't Vander get angrier? Or would it make the man feel better if he could help Loa patch them up?

He hesitated a moment, before slowly reaching up--his hands were shaking, dammit--and unzipping his jacket from the collar down, letting it slide off of him as he set it on the sofa. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt underneath, his arms exposed up to his biceps.

It wasn't just his wrists that were cut.

The extent of the self mutilation became even more obvious now that his arms were fully visible; scratches on top of cuts and slices went all the way up to the insides of his elbows, some obviously as fresh as the night prior, some largely healed and looking to be only one or two weeks old at maximum, varying in depth, length, and severity, seemingly made with multiple weapons rather than just one item like a razor blade.

He said nothing, couldn't even get enough of his voice into his throat to say something, much less think of anything.

[Lion]

Tonight's running theme was clear. It was gonna be chock full of the unexpected and Vander's gut twisted further, growing cold and all desire for appetite leaving him. The project robot on the work bench was forgotten and the beers were going to be warm.

He led him to the bathroom, breath hitching at the sight of all the marks on his body, his arms and Vander was  more focused on that than the tightness of his shirt. He sat Loa down on the lid of the toilet and fished out that first aid kit again. It seemed to be a running thing here.

And he was afraid of that.

Vander worked quietly patiently and cleaned at the fresher ones and wrapped them up in the gauze he had available. "Loa, stay over with me? Yeah?" Vander smiled at him and splayed his fingers out over his, sandwiching Loa's hand between his.

[Cheesigator]

The silence between the two of them was unnerving; Vander didn't react outwardly to the sheer amount of scars on Loa's arms that had not been there when Vander had found him drunk a few weeks ago. He hoped Vander didn't draw any connections or ask any questions because Loa wouldn't know what to say to him if he did.

He followed obediently, still unable to look the other Pilot in the face as he was sat down in the bathroom. He didn't wince or hiss at the stinging pains of the cleaning on the raw wounds, rather he was more fixated on how gentle Vander was, here again. Granted, he seemed to do lots of intricate work with his hands, so delicacy shouldn't have come as a surprise to him, just as it shouldn't have made him feel like he was being treated like some fragile, precious thing that meant something to somebody. It shouldn't have made his heart skip a beat, even with all the shame that weighed him down as if he were wading through a toxic bog.

He blinked and finally looked up at the man when he mentioned staying the night; all he could do was stare in confusion.

... Why?

And yet he heard a tone in Vander's voice that made it seem lile he would have to be a heartless demon to say no. That and..
 Maybe deep down inside he really did want the attention. He knew it. He wished he didn't, but he did.

"... If it's okay, sure." He said quietly, unable to think of what else to say. He had a feeling if he asked why he might hurt the other man's feelings, or piss him off, and he didn't want to do either.

[Lion]

Vander slipped the items back into the slots of that medkit and put it behind the toilet. He didn't want to bring attention to the wounds on Loa's arms or the fact that theu disturbed him so. He had wanted to yell, to scream and shout but where would that get them? The man already had been proven he couldn't be trusted around strong alcohol.

He couldn't think of anything else to do before he stood up and smiled. "Ok! Then I  better get started on dinner. I hope you like bacon and eggs because I'm all out of everything else and I don't want to order pizza. Actually... Wait I have bread. Come on Loa. Make yourself comfortable. What's mine is yours."

He gestured the man to follow him back out into the hallway where the robots were making a fresh pot of coffee since Vander had been planning on staying up and working on his machines. There he whipped out the pan and eggs and the bread and began adding some cinnamon and sugar to it?

"You ever have cinnamon toast? Well, you're having some now and I guarantee it's gonna be so damn delicious," he said and began the process of toasting the bread and soaking and then frying it. Vander was a pretty fast cook and when he actually had time to enjoy it, like now, he enjoyed making simple meals.

He voice commanded the TV to turn on and when the food was finally ready he set two pieces out on the plate for each and some butter and syrup. "Ok, Loa. I'm bracing myself for your verdict. Oh right!" Vander slipped the visor from his face settling his vision back into that monochrome setting.

He smiled and set the thing on the counter. "I hope you're hungry because I made this with all my love."

[Cheesigator]

Loa watched him put things away in absolute silence, unsure of what to do or say. It was like he could feel the frustration and disappointment rolling off of Vander in waves. It made him want to shrivel up and hide under a rock for the next twenty years--moreso than he did on a regular basis, even.

But there he went again, saying that weird thing. 'What's mind is yours.' What did that even mean? It was confusing--no, what was Vander's was Vander's. Loa owned nothing in this apartment, nor did he even share in it. He hadn't put any money into it, any effort. He couldn't claim shit. So why did he say that? It made no sense.

Regardless, Loa followed him out like a straggling duckling from the bathroom and found himself a seat as he watched Vander cook. Something seemed to change in the air about him from how it had been just minutes before; he seemed to be happier. Like Loa's response that he'd stay the night made him happy... Which he couldn't understand for the life of him, honestly. He still couldn't figure out why he'd even offered in the first place.

"No, I haven't." He said quietly, not even really sure he knew what cinnamon toast would be. Just... Cinnamon on top of toast? didn't sound very good.

He didn't really pay any attention to the TV as it was turned on, letting it fade into background noise as he kept his attention on Vander, realizing now he wasn't sure how he was going to eat anything with the helmet on. Hell. He shoulda just kept with the bandanna, it was easier.

He blinked, looking up at Vander with a bit of surprise however when he took off the visor... Willingly sacrificing his ability to see again just for his sake. It made him feel a little guilty, especially when he still hesitated to take the flight helmet off. But... Vander couldn't see him, right? He was pretty much blind without the visor, he'd said. This was different from that night in the shower, he was sober this time. There was no booze to give him courage or to help null his strange fears.

He slowly reached up and took the helmet off, holding his breath as he did so and just forcing himself to do it. The feeling of the air hitting his face sent a shiver down his spine as he set the helmet on the counter out of the way, fingertips lingering on its surface for a few moments before he forced himself to pull them away.

It didn't matter that Vander had already probably seen his face in the past--no, had definitely seen--it was the sheer fact of anyone seeing it at all, especially when he wasn't drunk, that terrified him. Like the large claws of his dragon wrapping around him and slowly suffocating him, he reached up and his fingertips brushed across the scar that stretched across his face in a jagged diagonal line from jaw across the lips up to his cupid's bow.

He shook his head a little and his thick eyebrows knitted together at the comment that Vander made the plate of food with love. He couldn't tell if he was making some kind of sick joke or if he was actually being sincere. Either way, he still didn't know what to say.

"Right, so if it's terrible I won't say so so I don't hurt your feelings. Got it." His voice sounded so much clearer outside of the helmet--things he never paid attention to when he was on his own in his apartment, but now he was keenly aware of it due to his paranoia. Even still, what he'd said was meant as a gentle tease. Something to lighten the mood.

He reached forward and took a piece, deciding to try a bite of it without any butter or syrup to taste it as it was, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He never would've expected a tech geek to be a damn good cook.

"That's... Incredible." He said quietly.

Granted, Loa wasn't the type of guy to go out and treat himself--when he did eat it was usually bare bones minimum cheap shit. Nutrition bars, instant noodles, that kind of thing. Hardly the extravagant diet many other Pilot Echoes might like to spend the money on in their spare time. Loa didn't care about himself enough to. So something like this wasn't just a treat, it tasted like fucking heaven, and it was clear in the absolute sincerity in his voice.

"Where'd you learn to make these?" He asked as a way to keep conversation going so it wasn't too awkward while he sat there and tried to resist the urge to wolf it down and demand more.

[Lion]

"No no, Loa, if it's terrible you gotta tell me. Because then I'll keep making you terrible dishes and then nothing productive will come out of it. Sometimes something is wrong, but if you don't know it's wrong, how will you ever fix it?" Vander smiled at the other man and went about dousing maple syrup all over his own cinnamon toast. He was hungrier than he could remember but he didn't want to order out.

Pizza was only so good after like three weeks of eating just that and he was running out of beer.

Vander ate his and after a few moments of munching and the sound of little more than the knife and fork hitting the plate, he cleared his throat. Heavenly huh? He'd never gotten a compliment like that before and a small blossom of warmth spread across his chest. 

A warm smile and he coughed into his arm. "Uh, my mom taught me how to make it. There's like this trick she did of making it juuuuust this side of burnt, where the edges get real crisp so it's crunchy but there's still that softness in the middle right. Um, would you like some more, it's no trouble at all."

Vander had hoped he would say yes. It wasn't often that Vander  had an opportunity to cook for someone else, to share in hospitality and he was quickly finding he enjoyed very much sharing what little he had with someone else.