Remnants of the Earth
TEINAR => Teinar => Topic started by: Rhi-Rhi on October 21, 2012, 11:17:14 pm
-
Needless to say, shit got done.
Cyrus got the approval of the head of his Outfit, three council members, and the warden, and Temple was moved out of the facility and into his place. Temple wasn't exactly free and likely never would be, not completely, but he was placed under Cyrus's supervision along with a list of restrictions that weren't nearly as restrictive as before. He'd proven himself back there in the tunnels, earned a certain degree of trust, and with it a certain degree of freedom.
And what better way to celebrate this unlikely victory than to go on a hunting excursion?
Temple had said he wanted to learn! And Cyrus decided to kick-start those lessons and put his words to the test. Besides, they needed more meat; Temple had eaten up a lot of what Cyrus had, and with two of them living there, they'd need to bring in more to compensate. Time for Temple to start earning his keep.
It was too risky for Temple to go topside (and it was one of those Restricted Activities, anyway) so Cyrus took Temple down into the subterrain, down into the tunnels that were created not by people, but by burrowing animals. It was dark and dank and musty and the only light they had came from the bio-luminescent vines that grew along the walls and their own flashlights. The air was a little thinner down there, too, though the plants provided enough. It took some getting used to.
Cyrus paused and knelt down, examining small scrape patterns in the soil. He motioned Temple closer. "Fresh tracks. Know how I know that?" So far, they hadn't encountered any critters, but they had come upon plenty of tracks and scat, old and new, and Cyrus was taking it upon himself to quiz Temple whenever they did.
-
Cold, damp, and harsh as the subterrain was, Temple was thrilled to be out in it. Not because of where he was, but because of what he was doing. His work in Teinar may have been useful, but it was boring and tame as hell. Out here it was all real, all immediate, and it was a welcome relief.
The first thing he noticed was how it wasn't pitch black, even away from the city, even without any lights on. So many things glowed down here there was often this subtle light source that came from everywhere and nowhere. Not enough to really see by, but enough to pick your way over the rocks and through the tunnels.
Thankfully they had real lights, and plenty of them. It was one of the first things Cyrus impressed upon him. Lantern bobbing at his hip, Temple followed behind the soldier and joined him when he hunkered down.
Even on close inspection, Temple couldn't see what they were looking at. "It's all just...the same. How can you tell one little mark in the dust from all the others?"
-
Cyrus let out a sigh. He'd heaved that same sigh several times already on this trip and had a feeling he'd be doing a lot more sighing before this adventure was up.
"It's not all the same, princess. How many times I gotta tell ya that? Okay. Okay, look." Reaching out, he grabbed Temple by the collar of his shirt and hauled him down even closer. He wanted him to get a real good view. "Just open your damned eyes and look. See how the impression's all sharp and clean? See how the earth around it's all soft and freshly churned? That's how ya can tell it's fresh. Make sense?"
-
There it was, that sigh again. How many times was he going to have to hear that?
Temple didn't protest when Cyrus hauled him down by his collar, but he did shoot him a pointed look. One might even say a challenging one. Cyrus liked to throw his weight around. It was going to come to a head one of these days—they still hadn't had that fight they'd talked about—and the only question was when.
"Y'know," he said, not looking at the tracks, or whatever they were, "there's a real easy way to speed this up."
Like the last time he'd brought this up, he didn't expect to get anywhere with this. He just figured it didn't hurt to ask. If Cyrus would just let him follow his train of thought, get Cyrus's perspective on this from inside Cyrus's own head, it would go a long way to giving Temple the knowledge he needed now instead of waiting for him to comprehend it himself.
-
"An easy way? Ya mean like you payin' fucking attention, genius?" Cyrus said, releasing Temple's shirt with a shove and an exasperated sound.
"Ya can't just...magic your way through life, ya know! So we're doin' this right and we're doin' it my way and we ain't leavin' this spot until ya can tell me what made those tracks. We've gone over it. We've seen these tracks before. What animal did it and how can ya tell. Go on. Ya wanted to learn this shit so we're gonna do it the right way."
Not some weird, unnatural way that involved Temple going into his head, because that was definitely off limits and the kid knew it.
-
Temple let Cyrus finish. It was the least he could do before he picked a fight.
"It was just a question and don't shove me." He punctuated the word by shoving Cyrus. Not hard, about as hard as Cyrus had shoved him. Which, for Cyrus, might be enough to be insulting. He didn't care. He wasn't doing it out of spite, he was doing it to prove a point. No one shoved him and got away with it, not even Cyrus.
If Cyrus let it go then Temple would stare at those stupid little marks in the sand until his eyes bled. If not, then he was ready for that, too.
-
Cyrus caught Temple's wrist before he could pull away and glowered at him, a warning look, just barely keeping himself in check. Temple was pushing him, though, and hitting all the wrong buttons. "Act like a punkass brat, expect to be treated like one. So maybe start actin' like a grown-up and ya won't get pushed around like a kid."
Okay, so he was riding the razor's edge of his temper, after having been down here for gods knew how long with a stubborn priss. But goddamn! Temple wanted to learn, so here he was trying to teach him, and the brat wasn't even trying!
-
Temple glared right back, not a hint of submission in his gaze or posture. He wasn't backing down from Cyrus, not in any way, and especially not here with both their nerves frazzled. If he gave in just because of circumstance, it would just open the door to more weakness.
"Fine. Just don't expect to push me around a not get pushed back." Temple gave a tug at Cyrus's hold on him. "You wanna hold my hand while I do this, Amadori, or what?"
-
Realizing he was still holding Temple's wrist, Cyrus gave a start and released him with a grunt. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he nodded to marks. "Just get on with it, Violet."
Clearing his throat and trying to regain some semblance of dignity, he continued. "Now what do ya think made it?"
-
Temple leaned over the tracks that Cyrus insisted were there, even though it all just looked like a bunch of random scratches and scuffs in the dust to him. He could sort of see what Cyrus meant if he really looked for it, but honestly? How the hell could Cyrus just pick this stuff out at a glance? Temple had to be nearly on top of it and know that it was there before he could even see it.
"I don't know." He shrugged. "One of those little...y'know like with the three segments and all the legs. The orange guys."
He made a scurrying motion with his fingers to indicate their movement pattern, because damned if he could remember what every freaky bug down here was called.
-
"Ya mean the scuttlers?" Cyrus said, and let out a low sigh.
"Now you're just sayin' things. Look at those tracks. They seriously look like they could be made by the little scuttlers to ya? Ain't they a little big for that? Ah, for fuck's sake, never mind. These were made by the grimants. See how the claw marks make a cross shape? Now, if they was scuttlers, there'd be a shitton more marks for all those little feet, don'tcha think? You'd also see drag marks, 'cause their bodies sorta drag. Grimants don't drag their bodies, and they just got four legs, despite their name."
He paused to let it sink in. "Got it, Violet? Ya takin' mental notes there with your freakish mind? Put it to use."
-
"Scuttlers, right." Temple fell back to plop himself on the ground while Cyrus ranted. He tuned most of it out. He wanted to learn, but he also had a limit to how much of Cyrus he could take, and he was reaching that limit now.
"Yeah, got it." He scrubbed a hand down his face. "Look, can we take a break?"
-
Even Cyrus knew when he was beating a dead horse and fighting a losing battle. With another sigh, he shrugged his shoulders.
"Fine. Sure," he muttered, and followed Temple's lead to plop down on the ground with a grunt. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a canteen and thrust it at Temple.
"You city folk, I swear."
-
Temple heaved out a sigh and stretched his back out. It was rough down here in ways he hadn't thought. All the crouching and crawling and climbing has his back perpetually aching.
"Thanks." He ran a hand down his spine. Nothing helped, so he resorted to laying out flat on his back on the hard stone beneath them. "This is killing my back out here. How do you deal with that?"
-
That statement was followed by a long, blank stare. Blank because that was the kind of statement that was so out there, it didn't even warrant an, "Are you fucking kidding me?" stare.
"You're...a Pilot," Cyrus finally said, blinking slowly. "What the bloody fuck were ya even--oh hell, I don't know why I ask. You don't remember."
With a huff, he fumbled around in the pack and brought out another package, unwrapped it, and offered it to Temple: dried meat of dubious origins. "Here, eat up before ya faint or something."
-
Well that was different. Cyrus actually mentioned Temple's memory lapses without implying it was all some elaborate conspiracy. With an assumption Temple was being truthful. He wanted to bring that up, maybe tease Cyrus about it, but it'd just get them fighting again and he'd finally gotten a moment of peace here. Still, it made him smile, there in the darkness.
"Thanks." He took the...whatever it was. Food of some kind, probably about as edible as shoe leather, but it made his stomach grumble just the same. He rolled over onto his stomach.
"You should give me more, what with me being so delicate and all. I need the extra strength right?" He aimed a look up at Cyrus through his long, dark lashes, exaggeratedly innocent. Oh, he knew perfectly well the particular nature of his eyes—big and pretty, of a near-luminescent violet. What was the point of eyes like that if not to weigh his words with calculated glances?
-
Cyrus rolled his eyes at Temple, about to tell him he was being absurd, that he'd rationed their food down to the hour and he'd just have to suck it up, princess, but then he saw Temple's face. Or more accurately, his eyes. Even in the faint glow of the subterranean plants he could make out his eyes, for they caught the light in just the right way. And while he'd given him hell about his girly, flowery eyes before (never mind that his own eyes were some shade of purple), this time, he couldn't help but stare. They were interesting eyes. Intense, the color far brighter than his own, framed with lashes any woman would kill for and set in a face that was--
Hold up. Why the fuck was he noticing this.
He jerked his eyes away and stared up toward the darkness above. "No. Stop that. Don't gimme that look, with the eyes and the creepy fluttering and shit. Ain't gonna work. You wanna eat all our rations in one day, that what ya want?"
Yet even as he said it, he broke off a piece of his own jerky and shoved it at Temple without looking at him. "There. For the whiny baby. Happy? Now shut up and eat your jerky and be happy with what ya got."
Not that Temple had been talking much, but his eyes sure had! And Cyrus found himself oddly glad that it was dark here.
-
Temple knew that look. It was hard to mistake it for anything else, especially with how unsubtle Cyrus was. It caught him pretty well off guard—froze him in place for a bit even. When he could move again, he drifted his eyes back down the the rock.
"I didn't actually flutter," he said, half way listening to Cyrus and half way in his own thoughts. "I can, and it's a sight to see, let me tell you, but I didn't just then."
He even took the extra jerky with nary a smart word otherwise. "Thank you."
It probably sounded way more sincere than Cyrus would ever have expected, but Temple's mind was elsewhere. Cyrus was attracted to him. Or well...found him attractive at least, which wasn't exactly the same thing. Still.
How far could he push that, he wondered?
He popped the jerky into his mouth and decided he wanted to find out.
-
"Whatever, you might as well've been," Cyrus said around his own jerky, still not looking at Temple. He grunted in response to Temple's thanks, slid backwards until he could lean against the tunnel wall, and then went back to being very interested in his food.
That had unsettled him, and he wasn't sure why. Didn't care to know why, didn't want to dig any deeper because he wasn't into the whole introspection thing. It was just, the guy had weird-ass eyes, was all. Soul-piercing. And since he was a psychic, that made things weird. Yeah, sure, sounded about right. Made some sort of sense. Maybe.
He grabbed the canteen a took a swig. It was time for a major subject change. "Ya know, the longer the break, the harder it is to get started again," he said. "Gonna be able to move again after this? Or is your tough, military ass all tuckered out?"
-
He wanted to get Cyrus into bed. That thought hit him with both the crushing weight of dismay and the chilly thrill of challenge. Dismay because this was Cyrus, who still dwelled just on this side of the homicidal line when it came to Temple. Challenge because he rather thought he could win this one. He hadn't imagined that look Cyrus gave him.
Temple stretched out like a cat next to Cyrus. He wasn't trying to be enticing, not yet. Too much of that in such a short space of time and it would send Cyrus reeling in the opposite direction. No, here he was only engaging in the mutual trolling they pulled on each other all the time.
"Carry me?"
-
Cyrus's expression was dry enough to chap lips and crack the earth. "Thought ya hated being called princess, Princess. So why you actin' like one?"
-
Temple returned that look with one of his own, deliberately prissy and goading. "If you're going to keep calling me that, maybe you should treat me like one. Carry me places, open doors for me...?"
-
"If ya keep actin' like one, maybe you should dress like one. Goddamn priss. Afraid you're gonna break a sweat or break a nail?"
With a sigh, he heaved himself to his feet and grabbed Temple by the wrist. "C'mon, ya pansy. Let's go."
-
"Maybe I should." That was all he said as he braced his feet against the ground and heaved himself up with Cyrus for leverage.
Cyrus sure brought up the subject of Temple dressing like a girl a lot. Rather all the time now that Temple thought about it. He thought he could look pretty good in the right kind of skirt.
"What's next?"
-
Cyrus only rolled his eyes and released Temple's arm.
"What do ya think's next? We keep moving until we find a good place to set up camp for the night," he said as he turned and started on ahead. "Honestly, ya think it's a good idea resting long in the territory of a grimant? Oh, wait, that's right, ya would. 'Cause ya probably ain't paid attention to a think I've said about them."
-
"What are you looking for in a camp site down here?"
He barely noticed Cyrus's casual insults anymore. It was almost like white noise to him now, he was so used to it. Cyrus could probably have said the same about Temple's backtalk, too.
One thing Temple hadn't mastered yet—getting around so easily in the dark. Guys like Cyrus who spent so much time out here had way of keeping their footing and direction in the low ambient light so they didn't waste batteries in their torches. Temple still had to follow right on Cyrus's heels and occasionally keep hold of the back of his shirt.
Few things weighed him down so much with dread as the thought of getting lost down here in the vast, unmapped blackness, adrift in a three-dimensional maze in which no one would ever find him. Even with his long telepathic range, there were no straight lines to anywhere in the subterrain. The lost were rarely ever found.
-
"A clean site, for starters. Something that hasn't just been traveled by a man-eatin' critter. Watch your head."
Cyrus ducked as the tunnel lead downwards abruptly, while the ceiling grew lower, and went slowly down since the kid was holding onto his shirt--something he, oddly, didn't find all that obnoxious. The tunnel grew darker here, almost pitch black, with fewer plants growing on the walls, but Cyrus could travel these tunnels blindfolded. He continued on, not bothering with the flashlight; they'd be out on the other side soon enough.
He put a hand to the wall as he walked.
"You'll also want a site that won't corner ya. A site that sits at a crossroads, for example, so you've got an escape route. You'll wanna check out each path before you settle to make sure they lead somewhere, and then plan out which ones you'll take in case shit hits the fan, so ya don't get lost or separated."
He grabbed Temple's arm wordlessly to pull him to the left, down another tunnel that Cyrus had felt rather than seen.
The tunnel ended and lead out into a cavernous room filled with plenty of those strange, luminous plants growing above and below and casting the area in an eerie green glow. Somewhere, the sound of dripping water echoed off the walls. Stalagmites and stalactites grew there, too, some reaching impressive lengths that hinted at the cavern's age.
"A place like this, for example. See, plenty of exits," Cyrus said as he pointed them out.
-
When their ambient light died almost completely, Temple gave up trying to make it on his own and held on to Cyrus the entire way. He didn't feel he was improving much in his subterrain tracking skills, but he was getting pretty adept at clinging to Cyrus's back without getting in the way or impeding their forward progress at all.
They turned a corner, and light suddenly blossomed among the black caverns. Even able to see now, Temple forgot to let go of Cyrus. He was too busy staring at the cave, at its immense structures, at the crawl of bioluminescent plants and the dark, unknowable passages where the cavern lapsed back into a lightless void.
"Wow," he breathed.
-
The awe in Temple's voice brought a smile to Cyrus's lips. It had been like that for him, too, the first time he'd found this place. Since then, he'd been here enough that the wonder had worn off, but it was kind of nice, showing it off to a totally green guy and getting to experience it all over again. Even a totally green, prissy city kid.
A prissy city kid. Huh. When had that happened? When had he become that and not some criminal Pilot?
"Ever seen anything like this?" he asked after a moment, and it was only when he turned his body to look back at Temple that he realized Temple was still holding onto him.
-
Like this?
Temple shook his head. "I think I'd remember something like this."
His eyes slid to where he still clutched at Cyrus's shirt.
"Sorry." He let go and smoothed a hand down the rumpled and pinched fabric along Cyrus's back.
-
In retrospect, that had been a dumb ass question, the kind Cyrus hadn't even realized was dumb until Temple answered.
But he only snorted as Temple patted him down, glad he didn't seem to notice his slip. "Yeah, I'm real worried about looking all pretty down here, Violet. Now, ya done being all scared of the dark? This a big enough night light for ya?"
Without waiting for an answer, he batted Temple's hands away and started for the middle of the chamber, where he tossed his pack down onto the mossy floor. Down here, it was impossible to judge the passing of time, but he could definitely feel it. It had been a good day of tracking, anyway, and it was probably best not to push the kid too hard his first day. Wasn't long ago that he'd been all banged up from his crash.
He dug around in his pack. "So, uh, ya like it? See, it ain't all boring tunnels and dirt and dung."
-
Cyrus moved away, but in this place Temple felt a little less like he needed to glue himself to Cyrus's side. This cavern gave the impression of being more a room, less a lost crack in the earth in which he would be swallowed and forgotten.
"Yeah, this should do." He couldn't stop staring at the formations and patterning of plants in the cavern. Everywhere he looked, he saw something new and more wondrous than the last.
"Boring? Who in their right mind would find the subterrain boring? It's like being on an alien planet!"
If anything it was a little to exciting. Nothing was the same and he couldn't take a thing for granted.
-
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "You sure looked bored back there to me, what with all that whinin' and groanin'."
-
"I wasn't bored, I was tired." Temple finally stopped gaping at the place so he could help Cyrus out.
"What do you need me to do?"
-
"Oh, so you're actually gonna help, eh, lazybones? Alright."
Fishing around in the pack, he drew out a long blue device that fit in the palm of his hand. He uncapped one end and held it out to Temple.
"Hear that water? Go find it. There should be a little pool in here. You're gonna wanna turn that on and dip it in. If the light turns green, it's drinkable. Blue, it's tainted, but treatable. Red and it's radioactive." He handed Temple their canteens. "Fill 'em up if it's good or treatable. If not, we'll just have to go easy on the water until we get outta here. No big, we're an hour from the surface."
-
Lazybones? It was one of the milder and...well, one of the cutest things Cyrus had ever called him. It brought a smile to his face as he took the water tester.
There was nothing little about the pool he found. Maybe there had been at one time, but it looked like part of the wall had caved in and, at one point, had flooded the cavern. The pool now took up a good forth of the cave.
He'd strayed away from the glowing plants into a darker part, and even though he could still see, he felt suddenly too disconnected, even though only forty feet or so separated he and Cyrus.
The pool yawned up at him, black as pitch, still as a mirror.
"So. You mean this pool here? This dark one that I can't see into at all...?"
-
"Yeah, that one," Cyrus said, looking up from his work. He'd gotten their sleeping bags rolled out and had gone to work fixing up something that wasn't just jerky.
"Well, don't just stand there gapin'. Do the thing. And be quick about it, before the sectofish notices ya."
-
"The...what?"
Something slid out of the water, on the far edge, the edge too much in darkness for him to see it clearly. Green light shattered against wet scales. It stretched out of the water, and from the scraping of rock all around him, he knew it must have been circling around the edge of the cavern.
"Cyrus..." Temple began backing up.
It just kept coming. Ten feet of it. Twenty. Fifty feet and still uncoiling from the water. Parts of it broke into the light, revealing a long, muscular, snake-like body. He couldn't tell where the head was.
"I don't think this is a fish!"
It struck blindly from the side. Not at Temple but at Cyrus. It spat something at him, some grey mucus that Temple knew, without having to be told, he did not want touching his skin.
-
Cyrus chuckled to himself as he prepped their meal. Got the rookies every time. The water was safe, though. No mutant fish lived there, and there was no viable way for them to get there, either. Sounded like it had really spooked Violet over there, though, so maybe he should reassure him before he froze up and didn't get their damned water. Gods, he was so unbelievably naive sometimes.
He straightened up and rolled his eyes Temple's way. "Oh, man up already, I was just--"
Temple announced the obvious just as his eyes landed on the beast.
"SHIT!"
The beast spat, and Cyrus had sense enough to turn his back and duck.
He felt the impact as the mucus splattered against his shirt, and then he felt the heat and heard the sizzle of the acid as it began to eat through the fabric. He yanked at his shirt and pulled it off over his head and threw it away from him, where it continued to hiss. Then he lunged to his feet and pulled out his hunting knife.
"Don't run," he said, keeping his voice calm and level. "Just back away slowly. It's blind. It goes off of what it can hear, smell, and feel in the earth. Ain't that right, Levi?" He abruptly raised his voice and stomped his feet on the ground, and the beast, which had started to turn toward Temple, turned its attention back on him. Its tongue flickered out and it began to ripple toward him.
Backing away and making no efforts to soften his steps, Cyrus grabbed Temple's pack off the ground and tossed it away from him, where it landed several feet away with a loud thud that made the serpent's head swivel. It lurched toward the sound, and Cyrus lunged for Temple and grabbed his arm.
"NOW run!"
-
Temple readied a sledge of telekinesis and froze. A hammer-blow of force, in this cavern? He'd bring the whole place down on them!
But he couldn't just stand here, either! He ran toward Cyrus and got all of two strides in before skidding to a halt at Cyrus's command. The sleek, snake-like head swayed in Temple's direction, mouth opening. He had no cover—he'd have to risk pulverizing the thing.
Cyrus distracted it then, and Temple's stomach lurched at seeing it shift toward him but he had to remember that Cyrus knew what he was doing here, knew it way better than Temple did.
And there went his pack, sacrificed as bait. Damn! He could probably get it if he only had a clear line of sight for telekinesis, but Cyrus ran by and grabbed him along before he could even make the attempt.
"Where? Not back into the tunnels?!"
-
If they didn't have a bloodthirsty leviathan hot on their heels, Cyrus might have smacked Temple.
"Not back to the tunnels?!" he repeated in disbelief as they ran. "Not back to the--where the fuck do ya think we are?"
He took them straight into one of the tunnels leading out of the cavern, and heard the the hiss of the creature, and the scrape of its scales, as it pursued them, far too close for comfort. Here, it had the advantage. This was what it had evolved to do.
He took a hard right down another tunnel, keeping a mental record of where they were. Thank gods he knew this place like the back of his hand or they'd be in more trouble than they already were. Another hard right and they spilled out into a wider opening. It wasn't a large room, but earthy and musty with smooth walls. Long ago, some creature or other had scraped it out for a burrow.
"We can lose it here," he told Temple, still pulling him along so he didn't get lost in the dark. He headed toward the back of the burrow, feeling along the walls, and ignoring the panic that wanted to rise up as he heard the creature's breathing. It was just outside. "There's an opening here. Big enough for us, too small for it. Heh. We built a few of those 'round here, for cases like...uh..."
Where the hell was it? Maybe he wasn't looking in the right spot? Shit, shit, shit...
And then he found it. A pile of rubble right where the opening had once been. Probably caused by an animal or earthquake or something.
The soft, hissing scrape of scales on earth grew louder.
They'd reached a dead end.
-
Temple gritted his teeth and half-ran, half-stumbled along after Cyrus. Sometimes Cyrus's grip on him was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Back into the tunnels they went, and Temple couldn't have fathomed a worse idea. He would so much rather have made a stand out in the open cavern, but fuck him, maybe that was just his natural fear of the closed-in tunnels talking. Surely Cyrus the best to lose that thing!
It seemed he had a specific destination in mind—one without an exit.
"Well? Where is it?" Temple spoke in a low hiss, afraid to talk any louder with that thing hunting for them in the darkness. Cyrus had stopped at a rock pile on the wall, with no opening in sight and a look on his face that drained Temple's confidence fast.
-
"It was here!" Cyrus said in a whisper, pointing at the cave-in site. "But as you can see, it ain't anymore!"
And them without guns. Down here in the tunnels, a gun was a bad idea when it could ricochet off rock or collapse a tunnel--or worse, the fact that it would alert every critter around to their location. For the size of creatures they normally dealt with down here, and the close quarters, a knife was usually good enough. And most of the time, you could ward a beast off by flashing a light in their face or slipping through an escape route.
Not leviathan, or Levi as it had been nicknamed. And it would take more than a few bullets to take it down; its skin was thick.
The creature hissed, closer now, and Cyrus pulled Temple closer to the wall.
"Er. Start diggin'?"
-
Cyrus pointed at a jumble of rocks, which to Temple looked just like every other jumble of rocks in the entire cavern. He couldn't see where this supposed entrance might have been.
That thing was out there, hunting them. It hissed, and the sound jumped and echoed all the way down the tunnels. Shit. Was it his imagination, or did it really sound like that thing was right outside?
"Dig? Dig? Fuck that, just tell me what rocks you need cleared and I'll move them all. We don't have time for this!"
-
"Right there!" Cyrus said, pointing to a spot in the wall, which probably wasn't helpful since it was almost pitch black in there. Maybe Temple could see the direction his arm was pointing, but he probably wasn't going to notice the precise location of his finger.
"There, where the rocks are! The fuckin' pile, the--wait. Move them. Move them? How the fuck ya gonna--no. Oh hell no. You're gonna use that, aren't you. Oh fuck no! Don't ya fuckin' dare, Violet!"
But then the leviathan hissed, loud and uncomfortably close, and several rocks fell where its body brushed against the cave walls, not six feet away from them. Jumping at the sound, Cyrus grabbed Temple's arm. "Shit! What the fuck ya fuckin' waitin' for?!"
-
"Right where? Fuck!" Cyrus pointed off into a particular blob of darkness that was nearly indistinguishable from every other blob of darkness in this whole goddamn cave.
He was going to blast their way out of here if it came to that, and Cyrus could freak the fuck out about all he wanted, that damn idiot! Now was not the time to throw one of his hissy fits about telekinesis! Temple was not dying down here—
A hiss sounded close by. Nearly arm-length close it sounded, and Temple was done. He was fucking done.
"Watch my six." Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe desperate survival was elevating his senses, but he didn't even hesitate on the target. His eyes went right to a rock pile and he sent a hammer of telekinesis swiping sideways. They exploded off to the right, but he wasn't done. He hit them again, sent another spray of rubble flying, and this time it cleared the way for them. There it was, an entrance, just big enough for a human to crawl through.
"I've got it!"
-
"OH HOLY FUCK WHAT'RE YA DOIN'?!"
The cave was exploding, or at least that's what it seemed like, and Cyrus couldn't watch Temple's six because he was too busy crouching down and covering his head as rubble went flying. Flying away from him, sure, but the way Temple was going at it, he was going to bring the whole fucking place down on their heads!
"Shit, I take it back! I take it the fuck back! Ya goddamned idiot! You're gonna collapse the fuckin' tunnel!"
At least he didn't have to worry about the leviathan anymore. He couldn't even hear it over the chaos--and it couldn't hear them, either, in all the confusion, nor could it smell them. Dust rose in a choking cloud and Cyrus knew this was it, he was going to die here, buried alive by a stupid, suicidal kid and eaten by a goddamned scaly worm. Best fucking day ever!
But then, Temple's voice, and Cyrus's head snapped up. There it was. Faint light glowing in the dark, coming from the other side of a hole. Cyrus didn't miss a beat.
He sprang forward and gave Temple a hard shove to propel him down and through it. "Go, go, go!"
-
So the thing hunted by sound, huh? Well that should have it confused for a bit.
"I will not collapse the whole tunnel—!"
There was way more he could have said to that accusation, way fucking more, but Cyrus outright shoved him into the tunnel and Temple had no choice but to go, to move forward without thinking about where he was going or how he was plunging blindly into the dark crevice through which he could barely see.
"Where am I going? Hey, there's a fork here, which way? Shit...there's like six different directions!"
-
Cyrus was right behind Temple, crawling through the tunnel and giving him a shove now and then as though that would speed up the process.
"Left! It's left!" he called to him, and threw an anxious glance over his shoulder. The dust was clearing, and with the silence that followed the chaos, it wouldn't be long before ol' Levi was after them again. Which wouldn't be an issue once they were out the other side, but Temple kind of needed to crawl faster because fuck him, he was still hanging out there all exposed.
"Hurry the hell up!"
-
"There's like three lefts!"
He said it, but he was moving anyway. He chose the left-most left and just went for it because there was a giant fucking eyeless snake after them and he was not going to stop and consult a goddamn map or try to navigate Cyrus's directions. And if they came to a dead end? Then he would literally pulverize the snake, the walls, the ceiling, and anything else standing between him and civilization until he could not physically raise a single pebble with his telekinesis anymore.
"I'm hurrying, goddamn it, I cannot crawl any faster!"
-
"Well figure it the fuck out and move!" Cyrus snapped, because he could hear the beast hissing behind them and hear its rough scales scratching over the ground and he knew their window of opportunity had closed. It could hear them now, and now it was pissed, and when he shot a quick glance over his shoulder he was just in time to see it rearing back, prepared to strike.
That was when Temple went to the left. But Cyrus didn't get to see which left, because the snake lashed out and struck his boot.
Cyrus gave a yell as it yanked him backwards and scrabbled at the dirt beneath him, dropping his knife in the process. Thank gods the thing either constricted its prey or spat digestive fluids at it, because its teeth were too small to pierce his boot. Clawing at the ground as it pulled him back, Cyrus managed to twist around, pull his other leg back, and kick its sensitive snout as hard as he could.
It released him with a shriek of pain, and Cyrus twisted back around and crawled as quickly as he could, grabbing his knife along the way and practically throwing himself into the fork. The snake hissed and tried to get through, but its head was too large, though that didn't mean he was out of danger. When it drew back again, and Cyrus saw its throat expanding, he didn't have time to dawdle. He picked the correct left tunnel and threw himself through it, just in time to miss the glob of fluids that burned and sizzled where he had once been.
-
Temple kept crawling until he heard Cyrus behind him. He twisted around onto his back so he could see and found the tunnel empty. Cyrus's voice and the snake's hissing volleyed echoes at him off the walls of the tunnel but he couldn't see anything. Cyrus wasn't there. Only a thin layer of clinging, bioluminescent moss cut the inky darkness behind him and kept him from feeling like he was floating in a void.
He hesitated for an instant as the struggle died down, then sought Cyrus out with his mind. He found him, thank all the gods, and knowing he was alive at least gave him the will to move again. He wasn't going back though, fuck no. Nothing he could do but keep on in this direction.
Keeping an eye out for the snake behind him, Temple surged forward, picking his path at random—he'd have to sort it all out later. He knew he'd get yelled at for it, but he spoke to Cyrus telepathically.
"Cyrus! Are you okay?"
-
It was only when Cyrus was halfway down the tunnel and 100% clear of the snake that he realized Temple was no longer with him. The tunnel he chose was well-lit, and there was no sign of the kid anywhere, nor could he hear anything beyond his own breathing.
Oh fuck. Oh shit. A sense of dread settled in his gut and he picked up his pace, because once in that small tunnel there was physically no way to turn back around. Where the hell was he? Briefly, he considered calling for him and reconsidered just as fast. Too risky; there was no telling what else was lurking nearby, and the snake was still out there. But if Temple had picked the wrong tunnel, and with him being a greenhorn and all...gods, if he got lost...fuck.
He was still belly-crawling his way through the tunnel when Temple's voice came at him, loud and clear as though he were sitting right next to him--or, you know, inside his head.
Cyrus jolted and hit his head on the low ceiling, then ground out a curse and rubbed his head. "Son of a bitch, what'd I fuckin' say about mindrape? Where the hell are you?"
-
Temple stopped and sagged to the floor of the tunnel. Cyrus sure sounded okay, if the little bits of thought that Temple picked up on were any indication. He could have learned more with just a little deeper reading, but he was really trying to keep his word about that.
"What? Talk inside your mind, I can't hear your voice. I know I've told you that before."
Temple could hear nothing behind him anymore, but he wasn't about to head back that way, not unless he had to or Cyrus gave him the okay. He started forward again at a slower pace.
"I'm not sure where I ended up."
-
Cyrus grit his teeth. Talk inside his mind? He didn't like the idea of that, he didn't like the idea of it at all, but finding Temple was more important than that and...well...fuck. Okay. He'd admit, this mind crap was pretty useful right now.
"Uh. Can you hear this?" Man, this was awkward. "Alright. So. What tunnel did you take?"
-
Temple wanted to bang his head against the floor.
"The left one!"
-
Cyrus sank his head into his hand. "I'm in the left one! Which left one did you take?"
-
Temple heaved a sigh.
"You said left. I took the one to my immediate left."
-
Cyrus rolled his eyes skyward. "Well that's the wrong left, it was the middle left!"
-
Temple started crawling again. He was on a straight path now, no forks.
"Then maybe when I asked you which way, you should have said middle left! How do I get back to you?"
-
"Well excuse me for having a fucking snake chewing on my goddamned foot and not thinking all that straight!" Heaving a sigh, he pushed onward. He was almost to the end of the tunnel.
"Lucky for you, you're not too bad off. Just keep going on straight. Follow it all the way down, it'll eventually spit you out into another fork. Stay there and don't move. I'll come to you."
-
Thank the gods above. He was beginning to fear this tunnel went on forever, just winded its way through the earth with no exit point. The thought sent a shudder through him.
"I can do that."
By the time he reached the opening, his knees and palms ached from the crawling. So this was the reason for the leather gloves and knee guards, huh? Without them, he'd have been a bloody messy by now.
"Okay, I'm here. Gods...it's pitch black."
He really hoped his mental voice didn't sound as small and intimidated as he felt.
-
"Alright, good, just wait right there. I'm coming. Almost there."
It was about five more minutes before Cyrus took the turn that lead him out into the fork. In the pitch black, all Temple would be able to make out was the shifting, scraping sounds of dirt as he crawled--a sound that could easily be mistaken for something more malevolent.
"Pssst, Temple. Ya in here?" he called ahead of him as he approached the mouth of the tunnel. He didn't want to freak the poor guy out.
-
Something was coming up the tunnels at him. He held his breath, listening. He nearly contacted Cyrus telepathically again when a human voice broke through the numbing darkness.
Temple slowly let out the breath he'd been holding. "Yeah, I'm here. Where are you even?"
He reached a hand out, blindly. This part of the tunnel was utterly black, no light at all, and all of Temple's flashlights had been lost when they abandoned his pack.
-
Temple wasn't the only one breathing a sigh of relief. Thank gods. He was okay. Following the sound of Temple's voice, he crawled forward.
"I'm right--mmph!"
Something hit his face, and Cyrus reached up and grabbed it before he realized it was Temple's hand. With a start, he let go and was very glad for the dark.
"I'm right here," he said, and grabbed Temple's wrist instead so he could pull them both to their feet, for the ceiling here was high enough for standing--something Cyrus only knew from memory.
"Goddammit, Temple! Never fuckin' do that again! You're damned lucky it was that tunnel and not one of the others, because if it was...!" He heaved a breath and eased up on his grip when he realized he was squeezing him. "Fuck. I say left, ya go left! Not the backwards left, but left left! The ninety degree true left! Alright? Because down here, with some of these tunnels, a greenhorn like you? Ya get lost, and I can't find ya, there's only two options--get eaten, asphyxiate, or die of hunger or lack of water! Any of that sound fun to ya?"
-
Cyrus hauled them up, and Temple flinched, expecting his head to hit the roof of the tunnel, but he was able to stand at full height without touching anything. Where were they? How big was this place now? He'd thought they were still in a small tunnel...would have sworn he could feel the narrow walls closed in all around him. Fuck but this placed messed with your mind.
He opened his mouth to get a word in, but Cyrus just kept on. Pretty much yelling at him. Cyrus was yelling at him over this mess. Well, fuck that. He was not shouldering all the blame for this, and all those things that Cyrus was talking about, the getting lost, the suffocating, all of it—it was all Temple's worst fears about this place, fears that always lurked at the back of his mind down here, no matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, and Cyrus was lecturing him about them like he didn't take this seriously? Like he was fucking careless?
"Are you done?" He didn't pull out of Cyrus's grip. No, he stepped closer, getting into Cyrus's face as best he could in the pitch blackness. "Because maybe you should have included this ninety-degree-true-left-bullshit in one of your goddamn lessons if my fucking life is going to depend on it! What the fuck do you expect me to do? Read your mind? You forbade me from that, remember? So I have to rely on you down here because I don't know what I'm doing so maybe if you want me to go to the true-fucking-left you should fucking say that!"
-
Cyrus didn't move back. He held his ground and even drew a little closer. "Well maybe if there's any confusion ya should ask next time, considerin' I had a snake chewin' on me! Did I mention the snake? That was tryin' to eat me? Because it was, and a guy don't exactly think too clear when it's gnawin' on his foot and--forget it! Just fuckin' forget it! Let's go."
With a huff of frustration, he turned suddenly and pulled Temple along with him, pausing only to feel along the wall before picking a tunnel and going down it. Like the chamber they'd wound up in, it was large enough to walk down with no ducking involved, and even when more of the glowing plants began to spring up on the walls, lighting their way, he didn't release Temple's arm.
-
So much for clearing the air. Gods! Why did he want to get this guy into bed again?
Temple stumbled along behind Cyrus. This was awkward as fuck, walking like this with Cyrus holding his wrist in a death grip. "Could you let go? I can follow you just fine."
-
"Oh? You can follow just fine, can you? That was following just fine? Oh no. That was the complete opposite of fine, Violet. And that wasn't even followin'!"
The tunnel opened up ahead of them and there it was, the huge cavern they'd had to flee when the snake attacked. Tugging Temple along, Cyrus marched them into the cavern and straight for the pack he'd left abandoned there when they'd had to split. Temple's pack wasn't far away. He went for that first, scooping it up and shoving it at Temple's free hand, then marched them over to his pack. Picking it up, he unzipped it and yanked out a pair of handcuffs.
Without a word, he grabbed Temple's wrist and snapped them closed around him, then snapped the other end shut around his own wrist.
"There," he said, holding up the key. "Now you'll follow just fine."
-
So real discussion was out of the question? Fine with him.
"Uh yeah. Exactly. Not following. Which, by they way, what kind of sucky subterranean ranger—or whatever it is you are—do you have to be to put the green kid leading the way in front, huh?"
The tunnels spat them out exactly where this whole adventure began. How the hell had the twisted and turned enough to get them right back here?
Cyrus dragged him all over the place, while all Temple could think of was where that snake might have gone and when it would be back. Wasn't this like its home or something? He was so busy watching the entrances he didn't notice what Cyrus was up to until the cold metal of the cuff clamped around his wrist.
He stared at the handcuffs, then up at Cyrus. Of all the questions that occurred to him just then—and there were a lot—he could only manage one. "Do you...always keep handcuffs in your bag?"
-
Cyrus paused. It hadn't occurred to him until then how odd it might seem to have those conveniently at the ready.
"...Yes?" he said, and made a frustrated sound, waving his free hand around. "I mean, no! The fuck ya think? I mean, look who I'm workin' with here! It was a precaution, alright, and look, I thought I might need 'em, and I did. Point bein', ya ain't gettin' lost now! Oh, and ya had better be damned glad I put ya in front of me, Princess, because if I hadn't ya wanna know where ya might be now? Huh? Meltin' in some giant reptile's belly! Show some fuckin' gratitude!"
He hadn't meant to let go of the key. But as though on cue, and with a final passionate gesture, the key went flying.
-
Temple was busy rolling his eyes and pretending to listen to what Cyrus was saying when a dreadful, tiny, metallic ching made him freeze.
Even in the dim light, he could see that Cyrus's hands were empty—no key, where there had been one before. He stared at Cyrus, silent, eyebrows climbing his forehead.
-
Cyrus stared silently back, a classic oh shit expression spreading across his face.
"Oh shit."
Without another word, he yanked Temple along as he stumbled in the direction he'd heard the key land. "Shitshitshitshit! Do you see it? Help me, dammit!"
-
"Ow!" Cyrus yanking him along made the cuffs cut right into his wrist. "I can't see anything—but you have a spare at home right? Right?"
Before Temple could even try to look, though, movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye. The sliding, slithering movement of a long snake body. Remembering at the last minute not to speak, he instead punched Cyrus in the shoulder to get his attention, then grabbed his shoulders and made him turn around to see what he was seeing.
-
"A spare?" The question made Cyrus break out into hysterical laughter. He bent down and frantically started digging around the rocks. "Start lookin', already! It's gotta be around here some--ow!"
He whirled around, about ready to lay into Temple for hitting him, but then Temple grabbed him and turned him around and the words shriveled up on his tongue. He swallowed hard and held his breath.
Holy hell.
"Don't move," he thought, as "loudly" as he could, and hoped that was how it worked, that Temple could hear him or...or however the hell that shit worked!
The snake slid into the cavern, all of the many, many feet of it, and its nostrils flared as it sniffed for their scent. Then its head jerked and swung around in their direction. Sweaty and adrenaline-fueled as they were, it hadn't taken long.
"Alright. Alright. It's okay. We got this. We're just gonna have to forget the key. So okay. On the count of three, we fucking run, you got it?"
It was coming toward them now. Cyrus glanced around the cavern to orient himself, and then picked a tunnel, because fuck everything, they were ending this trip now.
"One...two...three.. .GO GO GO!"
He took off as quickly as he could, and if Temple didn't hurry it up, he'd fucking drag him out of here.
-
Temple nodded. He had no intention of moving. He was rooted to the spot just then. He was also so fucking done with this snake thing. They either needed to haul ass out of here completely, right now, or he was going to kill this thing and probably take them out with it because seriously fuck this place.
To Cyrus's further direction, Temple caught his eye and nodded again. Running, yes. He was definitely on board with getting the fuck out of here. They could worry about the cuffs later. He followed Cyrus's line of sight to the tunnel he'd chosen.
On Cyrus's count, they bolted. Temple, for once, kept pace just fine.
-
Several hours later and they were back in Teinar. Several hours later, and almost an entire day earlier than planned.
Cyrus lead the way back to his place, exhausted, filthy, hungry, and done with everything. The handcuff issue didn't even register. All he could think about was getting home and collapsing somewhere for the next few hours and just...never talking about this first excursion again, because it had been a disaster.
Way to look competent in front of the newbie!
He opened his door and held it open so Temple could go in first, rather than get the door shut on him since they were so awkwardly attached. "I hope ya don't expect a fancy meal," he said as they went inside. "'Cause today's more of a fend for yourself day, after that."
-
Temple dragged himself inside and tugged Cyrus toward the couch. "Food? All I want is a shower and sleep."
Gods above. He'd known venturing into the subterrain would be dangerous and exhausting. He hadn't quite expected those things on that level, though.
Whatever. They were here now. Cyrus could call a locksmith, get them detached, and then they could fight each other for first rights to the shower.
-
Shower.
Sleep.
That was when it all came rushing back to him.
Staring at Temple, he jangled the handcuffs between them. "Uh, yeah, not until we get these off, so you're just gonna have to wait. Gods, I can't believe this. Of all the fuckin' things..."
Pulling Temple along with him, he trudged his way to the kitchen and picked up his phone, then grabbed a heavy book from the cabinet above and thumbed through it. Finding the number, he dialed it and waited.
"Hello? Yeah, it's Cyrus, Cyrus Amadori, I need a locksmith over here STAT. Uh huh. Yeah, it's, uh..." Fuck his life. "It's...I lost the key to my handcuffs, see?" Fuuuuck he wished he didn't have to be here when the guy showed up. "Yeah. Mhmm. Right, the model's 4707-Weston. So when can someone be over here?"
There was a long pause. Cyrus's eyes widened, and for an even longer moment, he was silent.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, still here. That's...uh...you...you really can't be here sooner?"
Another long silence.
"I...see. Uh. Alright. Thanks."
Click.
He turned toward Temple and gave him a look. Wow. Where to even begin.
-
Temple was getting a sinking feeling.
He returned Cyrus's look with pretty much the exact same flat stare he'd given him in the cavern when that key had gone flying.
-
Cyrus cleared his throat.
"So, it's...it looks like it's gonna be a week or so...?"
-
Temple stared—still.
"...a week or so."
-
Cyrus nodded. "Yup. A week or so."
-
Temple really hoped his seething resentment was managing to come across in his eyes just then.
"Uh...huh."
-
Cyrus nodded again. Temple's resentment was coming through loud and clear. "Yup. So. That just happened."
-
"You're telling me there is no way to get these things off? For a week? What the hell are we going to do?"
He was sounding a little bit shrill, even to his own ears.
-
Cyrus threw both hands up, taking Temple's arm with him. "Hell if I know! Ya think I get handcuffed to folk often? We'll just...we'll just...we can't go outside like this."
-
"Stop that!" Temple yanked their arms back down.
"Of course we can't go outside like this. We'll just...have to be stuck in here like this together...for a week, gods!"
-
"Gods, ya don't gotta sound so upset about it! My company not good enough or somethin'? I mean, shit, I ain't happy about it neither but--forget it. Just. Fuck."
Cyrus heaved a sigh and rubbed at his face. His hand came back smeared with dirt and he grimaced. "Just gonna have to suck it up, Princess. A week. That's nothin'. Yeah." A week or so, but he was trying not to think about the "so".
-
Sometimes Temple could not believe Cyrus. The man handcuffed them together, lost the key, then has the nerve to complain about Temple's reaction to all this!
And how the hell was Cyrus being so okay with this and not him? How did he become the one who was overly freaked out by this prospect?
Okay, so...they were going to have to deal with this for a week. Or so. Fine. They could start now.
Temple dragged Cyrus toward the bathroom. "Come on."
-
Yeah. Everything would be okay. Just a week. That was alright. He'd been stuck doing worse for a week, like a mission in the sub-terrain. It could be worse. Yeah...
That was when Temple started dragging him to the bathroom.
Suddenly, shit got very real.
"Whoa, whoa, what?" Cyrus grabbed the door frame and dug in his heels. "What the fuck do ya think you're doin'?"
He knew exactly what. One of two things. Or maybe both. And he hadn't considered the logistics of either of them until this moment.
-
Temple tugged on Cyrus's arm. "Look. I need a shower. I'm taking one. We're stuck like this for a week. That means we're gonna have to figure out showering, shitting, and sleeping, and now's as good a time as any. I'm covered in algae and cave grime and the gods only know what else, and I need a shower. So suck it up and deal with it, Amadori, because we have to figure this thing out. I am not staying attached to you for a week with no showering."
-
Cyrus shook his head vigorously.
"We're not showerin' together!"
-
"No shit we're not. I'm showering. You're going to stand next to the shower and go to your happy place until I'm done."
He gave another tug. "Or do you have a better plan?"
-
Cyrus let out an agitated growl and rubbed his face.
"Ugh, fine! Fine! Just hurry the fuck up!" he said, and released the door frame.
-
Step one? Getting undressed. Easier said than done. Temple had to fish a pair of scissors out of the bathroom drawer and cut his shirt off. No other way to get out of it.
Then came the awkward part—stripping out of his pants and underwear. He did it quickly and without looking at Cyrus once, and as soon as he was naked he retreated behind the shower curtain. That made things a little better, if awkward to move about with Cyrus's arm attached to his.
-
With his arm outstretched as far as it could go, Cyrus leaned against the wall by the shower and closed his eyes.
Yup.
Happy place.
Going to his happy place.
His happy place where he totally didn't just see Temple butt naked. That happy place. The happy place where he didn't notice Temple's ass, or how firm it was.
That one.
-
With the shower curtain in the way, it wasn't so much awkward anymore as just difficult to get himself clean. He kept trying to use his other hand and coming up short.
Toweling off after the shower was a whole new level of awkward. No eye contact, dry off as fast as he could, try to remember not to use the handcuffed hand at all—it would have put Cyrus's own hand so close to his body...yeah. He finished in a hurry and pulled on a clean pair of pants.
"Your turn," he muttered.
-
Cyrus's eyes snapped back open when Temple spoke, and he found him thankfully, blessedly clothed, if shirtless, and looking much better now that he wasn't covered in grime. It took a second for him to register his words, and then his eyes snapped back to his face and he gave him an incredulous look.
"What?"
-
"Get in there. I'm not gonna be attached to you while you're all...gross and slimy."
If Cyrus wanted to make a battle of wills out of this, bring it on. Temple wasn't budging on this one.
-
Cyrus stared at Temple a little longer, internally screaming. He was right. He needed to shower. He felt disgusting, and there was no way he wanted to crawl between his clean sheets like this. But fuck! In front of him?
He raked a hand through his hair and his fingers got stuck in something...gooey.
He hated everything right then.
"Fine, gods. Now turn around and go to your motherfuckin' happy place."
Grumbling all the while, he snatched up the scissors and cut himself out of his shirt, and then he stripped faster than he'd ever stripped before and slipped into the shower. It wasn't even that he was modest or anything. He usually didn't give a fuck. But now, handcuffed to Temple, everything was weird.
And he couldn't even enjoy his goddamned shower, considering he had to wash one-handed and pay attention to where their connected hands were.
When he was done, he snatched up a towel and struggled to dry off. "This is the worst," he grumbled as he worked, and pulled on a fresh pair of pants.
-
Temple was so exhausted. Even here, back home with Cyrus, the struggle just kept on. While Cyrus was in the shower, Temple stood against the wall and let his head fall back and his eyes close. He didn't open them again until Cyrus jostled him in getting out of the shower, and that was only so he could get out of the way and let Cyrus towel off.
"It wasn't that bad," he said. Awkward as fuck, but they were both clean and clothed again, mostly.
Temple sighed. "Now what?"
-
Cyrus fixed Temple with a flat look. "Yes. It was."
He fluffed his hair with the towel one last time to make sure it was good and dry, and then he hung it up on the door. With a sigh, he turned back to Temple.
"Now? Well, I dunno about you, but I wanna sleep. And I'm gonna sleep. So if you're hungry, speak now, 'cause I'm gonna just pass out for the next like twelve hours."
-
"Gods, no. I don't even have the energy to eat."
He supposed they'd be sleeping in Cyrus's bed. It felt weird to lead the way there himself so he stood aside and let Cyrus go first.
-
Cyrus nodded to himself. "Alright, then." And for a few seconds he didn't move.
They were going to have to sleep together.
Shirtless.
Why did he have to throw that key?
"Right. Bed time."
With a deep breath, he lead the way to his room. Where else would they sleep, after all? His bed was large enough for two, but not really large enough to fit two without touching, either. It had worked well enough for him, but after this, he was considering investing in a larger one.
He pulled back the bedsheets and then just stood there, not looking at Temple. He held up a finger. "So. There's some rules here. And that rule is no weird shit. Alright? Alright. There's no way we're gettin' out of this without, uh, touchin', so just...we're just gonna deal with it. We can put a blanket between us."
He motioned to the bed. "Get in."
-
Temple really wanted to ask what the hell weird shit Cyrus expected him to get up to but...gods, he was not up to another argument. He just sighed and nodded and resisted the urge to make a crack about Cyrus ordering him into his bed.
So...there was uh...nothing left to do but crawl into Cyrus's bed. He wasn't exactly embarrassed, or freaked out by it—not nearly as much as Cyrus clearly was—but it was so oddly intimate getting into someone else's bed.
Then his back hit the mattress, and he sighed out a long breath and suddenly didn't give a shit whose bed he was in. He was clean, he was lying down in cool sheets, and it was fucking heaven. He was going to be asleep in under a minute, easy.
-
Temple crawled into bed, and Cyrus was forced to follow, because his arm only bent so many ways. He scooted as close to the edge of the bed as he could without falling out, but their arms and legs were still touching no matter what he did, so he just had to deal with it. He bunched some of the blanket up between them, just to alleviate that a bit.
It took some time before the sweet, sweet comfort of the bed hit him, because he was too hyper-aware of the fact that he had a shirtless guy in his bed. Awkward. So awkward. Maybe there would be a miracle and the locksmith would be able to make that key earlier? It could happen, right?
But even though he was far more on edge than Temple, it wasn't long before sheer exhaustion caught up with him and he faded into sleep.
-
Sometime during the night, Temple must have migrated over to Cyrus because he came awake and opened his eyes to the back of Cyrus's head. Temple was spooning him from behind, hand on his waist, and if he'd been at all awake he probably would have seen the problem there but nothing mattered at that moment except getting back to sleep. Besides, Cyrus was so warm and comfortable...
-
It was only when Cyrus went to turn over, and couldn't, that he woke up. It still took several minutes of laying there, groggy and half-asleep, before he realized why he couldn't turn over.
Blinking blearily in the dark, he shifted his handcuffed hand--and found it was on his waist. And so was Temple's hand. And was that...was that Temple's breath he felt on his neck?
No, no. That wasn't on. He was not the little spoon.
Yawning, he elbowed lightly at Temple. "Eh...turn over," he mumbled, and nudged Temple until he complied. Then he curled up behind him, arm wrapped around Temple's waist, and snuggled up against his back. It wasn't long before he was fast asleep.
-
Temple muttered something about how goddamn picky Cyrus was, but he turned over anyway and immediately loved the way Cyrus felt curved about him like this. It put him right back to sleep and he didn't wake up again until Teinar's artificial dawn sunlight streamed in through the thin curtains.
Cyrus was still there, still curled up against him. Temple shifted back, fairly plastering them together. When Cyrus woke up and saw this, that'd probably be the end of it. He had to savor it while he still could.
-
When Temple shifted back against him, Cyrus moved with him with a sleepy moan, nuzzling his face against the back of Temple's neck. He was comfortable, warm, and content.
Very, very content.
Plastered together like that, Temple would be able to feel just how content all that shifting and cuddling was making him, even in sleep. He'd be able to feel it pressing right up against his ass.
-
Gods, this felt so good. Cyrus's arms wrapped around him, Cyrus so close against him, his breath on the back of his neck. If only he could get him to do this intentionally, while he was awake—
Wait.
Was that—
It was. Cyrus's unmistakable hard on pressed against him. Temple shifted again, to see if maybe he was imagining it, but there was no imagining that.
Maybe these handcuffs would end up being a blessing?
-
Temple's shifting was not helping matters any, but Cyrus was still too deeply asleep to realize that. He wriggled up against Temple and slid his hand up Temple's side and to his bare chest, where he groped him. Then he mumbled something unintelligible against his ear and slid one leg between Temple's legs, still pressed up against him with no signs of moving away.
-
Shit, shit, shit.
Temple moaned into the pillow as Cyrus pressed a leg between his thighs. This was too much, and so not fair. It was so tempting to let him continue, but shit—Cyrus wouldn't be doing this if he were awake, would he? Honestly, Temple had no idea anymore, but fuck this because if Cyrus did want him he could damn well get over himself and do something about it while he was conscious.
"Cyrus." It came out partly as a moan with Cyrus groping his chest and pressing his cock against Temple's ass.
-
Everything felt warm and good, and it was starting to bring him back to wakefulness. Gods, he'd had the weirdest dream. Weird, and terrible. But if this was how his morning was going to start out? Yeah, he was already forgetting it. How could you dwell on awful things when your arms were full of some half-naked beauty that was moaning wantonly against you?
He pressed a sleepy kiss to the back of her neck. Yeah. Best way to wake up ever. Been a while, too. He could really get down with--huh?
"She" called out his name. "She" sounded a dreadful lot like a certain he. And then, hands splayed against "her" chest, he realized that chest was unusually flat. Like, beyond small-busted woman flat.
Going very still, he cracked one eye open, then the other, and saw a head of black hair in front of him.
Oh. My. GOD.
Cyrus had never moved faster in his life, springing upright and throwing a pillow across his lap, face red with mortification. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
-
Cyrus wrenched Temple upright along with him. He was taking it just about as well as Temple had expected him to. Good thing he hadn't let him go any further.
Temple raised their joined hands in front of Cyrus's face. "Handcuffed. Remember now?"
He rubbed his eyes with his other hand, still groggy. He wanted to think the best of Cyrus, he really did, but if Cyrus tried to blame him for this, they were going to have a problem, one that no amount of lust or affection on Temple's part was going to overcome.
-
Cyrus sank his face into his hand with a loud groan and rubbed it. He didn't look at Temple. Right then, he couldn't, as the what the fuck gave way and the horror of the situation fully sank in. Only part of it had to do with the fact that Temple was another guy.
He was wide awake now. "Holy shit. Yeah. Right. I-I remember. I...fuck." He still couldn't look at Temple, and felt uncomfortable just sitting next to him now, but getting away wasn't an option. And shit, after that? Gods, he felt like the world's biggest creepy asshole right about now. How long had he been at it? Had Temple tried to wake him up before that?
"I...wow. Temple, I'm so fuckin' sorry, I...shit. I dunno what just--I mean, I don't usually--wow." He rubbed his face again.
-
Temple cracked a yawn. Ugh, he was way too sleep-fogged to handle this kind of heavy subject matter. He would barely have known what to say even if he were alert and sharp.
He just knew he wanted Cyrus to feel better about this.
"You...well, you were asleep. You didn't know. And you stopped so...it's fine."
-
Cyrus nodded, but still didn't look at Temple. "Yeah, yeah...right. So, uh, you're...you're okay?"
Gods. After all the comments he'd made. After all the "no funny business" comments. After all that, and here he was the one being the creepy asshole fucking molesting the guy.
-
Temple scooted closer, partly to reassure Cyrus and partly so their arms weren't stretched out to maximum distance anymore. He was taking this way harder than Temple had thought he might. Ugh, the first time he gets Cyrus to touch him and it has to go like this.
"I'm fine, I promise."
-
Cyrus nodded again and took a deep breath. Whereas before he wouldn't have liked Temple being that close, he didn't scoot away. "Alright. Good. So...we're good. Good."
Another nod, reassuring himself. "Right. Alright. Well, uh..." He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. While the unpleasantness of the situation had taken care of his morning wood, he still had a full bladder--and needed a cold shower. Gods.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Okay. Time to get up. I need to piss and I call first dibs."
-
"We're good!" Temple hopped out of bed, tugging Cyrus up with him, eager to get an actual task underway so they could maybe forget what just happened for a bit.
"Uh. You handcuffed me to yourself and lost the key. You don't get dibs on anything for a loooong while. I'll let you go first this one time, though."
-
Nothing helped get Cyrus's mind off things like some good old fashioned bickering. He scowled at Temple, hating the reminder that, yup. He was the one who got them into this mess. He was the one who threw the key, and the one who had the bright idea. Gods, how he wanted to forget that.
"Let me. It's my bathroom, Princess," he said as he lead the way to the bathroom, too groggy to care about who saw what as he took care of business. He was quick to undress after, and quick to hop in the shower without checking the temperature of the water first. It was cold, as expected, but right then that was exactly what he needed, and it helped wake him up and calm him down all at once.
-
"It's your bathroom, but need I remind you again," Temple said, raising their attached hands up in the air, "handcuffs. Your idea."
Maybe it was just him, but it was way less awkward in the bathroom this time. He supposed they both had bigger concerns than getting naked in front of each other. He took a shower after Cyrus even though he didn't particularly feel the need for one yet.
"So," he said, dressed and out of the bathroom now. "What are you gonna cook me for breakfast?"
-
Cyrus got the distinct feeling he was never going to hear the end of this. He also got the distinct feeling that it was going to get really obnoxious really fast.
But for the moment, he gritted his teeth and bore it because, shit, kid had a point. Temple was allowed a certain amount of free digs at him for his flounder, the grace period of which was directly proportionate to the amount of time he was beating himself up over it.
With both of them dressed, he grunted noncommittally and pulled Temple along as he shuffled into the kitchen.
"Hadn't thought of it yet," he said. "More tea. Got some eggs. Toast. You could use some protein." He quirked an eyebrow an Temple. "Is that acceptable, your highness?"
-
Temple scurried along beside Cyrus. Felt weird to have to plaster himself to Cyrus's side so closely, but he supposed they'd both get used to it after a full week.
"Sounds good, carry on." Said in the most imperious voice he could manage. He nudged Cyrus with his hip. "I'm going to get accustomed to this royalty treatment."
-
"Yeah, well, don't," Cyrus said, and nudged Temple back to give himself more space--or as much space as he could get, attached to the guy.
He turned on the back burner of his gas-powered stove, stuck a pan on it, and pulled some eggs from the fridge. They were not white or brown like chicken eggs, but rather green and speckled.
He cracked a couple and set them to fry, scrambling them with a spatula. "Y'know, since you're just standin' there attached to me like a wart I can't burn off, why don'tcha make yourself useful and start the tea?"
-
This wasn't easy. It was proving even more difficult than trying to navigate the bathroom while attached. Cyrus kept moving his hand to grab this or that and kept jerking Temple's hand along for the ride. He tried to help out and move with him but only ended up overturning a bottle of oil—closed, thank goodness—and throwing off Cyrus's movements even worse.
"Fine." Getting the tea without moving Cyrus away from the eggs involved circling around behind him and pulling Cyrus's arm behind his back so Temple could reach the leaves. The water faucet was too far away, though. "Come on, come with me."
-
Cyrus immediately regretted putting Temple to work, and this whole...being freakin' attached to each other was going to take some serious getting used to.
He grunted when Temple pulled at him, stretching his arm behind his back and leaning him away from the stove. Tugging back, he glowered over his shoulder at Temple. "Oh goddammit." As if this wasn't aggravating enough. Until this moment, he hadn't even thought of the logistics of the whole 'he wants to go one way, I want to go another' issue.
With a sigh, he backed up a few steps, and stretched his free arm out as far as it could go so he could keep the eggs from burning. "Alright, hurry the hell up."
-
Cyrus was not making this easier. If Temple didn't know any better—and he didn't, because he was trying to be good and not read Cyrus's mind—he would have sworn the man was making this awkward on purpose. He only stretched out the absolute bare minimum to get Temple to the faucet, which left them strewn out—eggs, to handcuffs, to faucet—all the way from one end to another.
"This is more complicated than it should be," Temple muttered, returning, pulling Cyrus in the wrong direction and getting them both twisted around before circling back the right way to the stove. He flicked the burner on and clapped the pot down. "There. Anything else?"
-
And Cyrus had half a mind to think Temple was making this more complicated than it needed to be on purpose! He groaned in aggravation when he was pulled away from his eggs so they could do some sort of awkward shuffle to get untwisted again. But then the stove was on the burner, he could get back to the eggs, and when he flipped them he found them unscathed, so he was happy.
He gave Temple a look, sidelong. "Don't gotta get so goddamned huffy, Violet. I saved your skinny fuckin' ass out there. Remember that part?"
He flipped the eggs onto a plate, then went to pass behind Temple so he could get to the cupboard on his other side. He had to hold their joined hands up and turn around until they were back-to-back, almost like a fucking dance, so that they didn't get twisted all around again. He reached for the cupboard, grabbed some spices, and spun back around to the eggs.
-
With no further tasks from Cyrus, Temple planted himself in one spot and tried not to move or get his arm in the way and just let Cyrus figure out how to maneuver their joined hands to do whatever he needed to do.
"Oh yeeeah, I do remember. That was right after you sent me directly over to the pitch black water that was supposed to be totally safe, wasn't it?"
He tried to cross his arm, found the motion arrested by the handcuffs, cursed and let his hand fall back down again. It was so hard to remember he was attached to something!
-
In the middle of frying up some toast, Cyrus fixed Temple with another hard glower.
"I said I saved your skinny hide, smartass. I never said it was safe." He paused, and gestured at Temple with the spatula. "Least, I never said the tunnels were safe. That lake was supposed to be safe. Didn't know those bastards could swim, alright? Ain't never spent enough time 'round 'em to find out. Congratulations, Violet, ya taught me something new. Now stop fidgeting, you're pullin' my arm."
He flipped the bread onto their plates, put the eggs on top of it, and sprinkled both with a generous amount of spices, . He sprinkled his own with some sort of red powder and moved to do the same to Temple's, but stopped. "Right. Gotta make yours wussy city boy style. Can't handle the heat."
Breakfast made, he held Temple's plate out to him.
-
Cyrus gestured at him with the spatula, and a big chunk of egg went flying in a graceful arch to land in the middle of the kitchen floor. Temple watched it sail through the air instead of listening to whatever Cyrus was saying, but the jab about the spices he could not leave alone.
He grabbed Cyrus's hand before he could put the shaker back down again. "Since when?"
He took the shaker himself and applied a generous helping. Couldn't take the heat, pfft. Cyrus could give him grief about a lot of things, but the hot food was not one of them.
-
For some reason, even though he had marveled over Temple's tolerance for spices weeks before, this just did not factor into his projected image of Temple as a pansy-ass city boy. Oblivious to the mess he'd made, Cyrus stared as he poured on the spice, then stared at Temple.
"Since, uh...since...aw, just shut up and eat your goddamn egg," he said, and took the shaker back to apply even more to his own meal, just because.
The tea was ready by then, so he poured them both a cup and handed Temple his. Then, noticing the egg glob on the floor, he scowled and cleaned it up before grabbing utensils for them both and tugging Temple into the living room to eat.
-
Did...did Cyrus just cover his food even more with spice powder just so to make a point that he could eat more than Temple?
Yes. Yes, he did just do that. Temple rolled his eyes and didn't even bother hiding it. He hadn't realized the spices were a competition.
As before, he did his best to just follow Cyrus's movements and not get in the way. So far, every time he tried to help, he only ended up making things harder for both of them.
Cyrus didn't bother with a formal dining table, so they ended up on the couch.
"Ooh," Temple said, sidling up alongside Cyrus's body. "Is the big strong Teinari hunter going to show me how real men handle spicy foods?"
Fuck it. If Cyrus wanted to keep playing the macho card, Temple would play his feminine card. Who knew, it might even work better that way.
-
Settling down on the couch, Cyrus set his tea on the coffee table and tucked into his food so he didn't have to converse. He was still a bit groggy, and a bit unsettled by the wake-up that morning, but it was nothing food couldn't fix, and his morning tea always woke him up.
He had his chopsticks halfway to his mouth when Temple sidled up alongside him and did...that.
Cyrus jerked, missed his mouth, and the glob of egg he'd been suspending dropped to his plate with a wet plop. "What the--?" It didn't help that they were both shirtless, a fact he was acutely aware of all of a sudden, and it didn't help that that morning was still burned into his brain. He leaned away, ducked his head, and grabbed for his egg again, though it took several tries since his focus was off.
"What the fuck are ya--? Why don'tcha eat your shit and prove ya can handle it!"
-
"I already did," Temple said. "A few times, I think."
He snagged a good piece of egg with his chopsticks, one with plenty of brilliant red powder piled atop it, and shoved the whole spicy lump into his mouth.
"You," he said around a full mouth, gesturing with the chopsticks, "have a real shitty memory."
-
"Well sorry I don't keep track of every goddamn thing ya eat. Ain't exactly top of my to-remember list," Cyrus said, and shoveled some egg in his mouth.
"But alright. Fine. I was wrong. Ya can handle spice. I'll be more impressed when ya don't pale over bugs."
-
Temple wasn't prepared for the surge of pleasure that hit him at Cyrus's approval. Over stupid spicy food! Gods above, this was messed up.
"I'll just have to keep you around to handle the bugs then," he muttered, eyeing Cyrus sidelong as he sipped at his own tea.
-
Cyrus rattled the handcuffs. "Looks like that's not gonna be a problem," he said, and shoveled more food into his mouth. "Fuckin' priss. Am I gonna have to kill the spiders in the bathroom for ya, too?"
Not the Teinari spiders were anything to laugh about. They tended to be hand-sized, fingers included.
-
Temple toyed with the food on his plate, eyes sliding sideways to look at Cyrus. "...does your bathroom really have spiders?"
-
Cyrus shot Temple a flat look. "I live underground in a fuckin' cave. What do you think?"
-
Temple pursed his lips, still playing with his food. He didn't say anything, but he was wondering just how far he could go with layering pest traps in Cyrus's apartment and possibly drowning it in insect poison before Cyrus would object enough to stop him.
-
Cyrus finished off his food with one more large mouthful. "What?" he said. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little spider or two."
-
"Hm?"
Temple remembered his food and went about finishing it off. "Scared? Uhh...sure! Sure, you could say that."
Scared, yes. But he tended to move swiftly past scared and into a place of calculated destruction rather...easily. So yeah he was scared, but at the same time he was also planning out detailed ways to turn Cyrus'a apartment into a spider death trap.
-
Cyrus grinned, and made a mental note to fish out one of those harmless, giant spiders just to fuck with the kid. Maybe leave one on his pillow or plop one onto his towel before he showered. Er, when they weren't connected, that is. If Temple was a squealer and flailer, he didn't want to take an elbow to the nose.
"Uh huh. Heh, Teinar sure ain't the place to have a bug phobia, but I guess ya Aedolians in your fancy, shiny buildings and shit didn't have much of that, eh? All sealed inside a big dome like some fucked up snow globe."
-
"I guess not," he muttered, wondering where he could buy industrial strength caulk in Teinar for the purpose of sealing up cracks in Cyrus's bathroom. He planned to start there, then proceed to bug-proofing the entire apartment.
He shrugged it all off for now and grabbed both their plates. "I got these. Come on."
-
Cyrus gave Temple a strange look. "Ya got them, huh? So I gotta get up after gettin' all comfortable," he said, and with a snort, he rose to his feet.
"Ya know, it's kinda silly, tryin' to take charge in chores and shit when we're both connected at the wrist. I ain't complainin', it's just ironic or some shit, since I gotta go along with ya so it ain't like I'm catchin' a break."
-
"Well yeah." Temple reached the sink and got the plates under running water. "I'll wash 'em but you still have to come along for like...emotional support or something."
He got the plates washed and after that, bizarrely, found himself yawning. Even though they'd slept like twelve hours, he felt like he wanted to burrow into the couch and nap. "What now?"
-
Cyrus let his arm hang limp, allowing Temple to do what he needed to do. Emotional support, huh? Sure. Gods. It hadn't been a day let and already this whole needing to go where the other wanted to go stuff was getting old.
Yawning in response to Temple's yawn, he elbowed him in the side. "Stop that," he said, then shrugged. "Fuck if I know. 'Cause I sure's hell ain't goin' outside. Though..."
He frowned, tried to cross his arms before he realized he couldn't, and let his arms drop back down with a huff. "Guess we're gonna have to at some point. Not enough food in here to last us."
-
A laugh cut his yawn short when Cyrus went after him with an elbow in the ribs. "I can't help it! I don't know what your days are usually like, but I found the near death kind of exhausting?"
Temple pulled at the cuffs, trying to get Cyrus back to the couch so he could maybe doze off on it. "Can't you order in?"
-
Cyrus gave Temple yet another look. What kind of Pilot had he been, anyway?
But he bit his tongue and tugged back against the cuffs. "Did you see many take out joints around here? This ain't Aedolis, princess."
-
Temple pursed his lips and gave the cuffs a yank. "I meant like ordering groceries! Can't the military like hook you up with things you need?"
-
Another tug on the handcuffs. "Yes, but that means leavin' to go pick them up. What? Ya think they just deliver them?"
Cyrus motioned emphatically to the both of them, and the handcuffs connecting them. "Would you want a bunch of military guys walkin' in on this?!"
-
"Yes! Delivery! Are you seriously telling me there is no way to get grocery delivery in Teinar?"
He grabbed Cyrus's wrist with his other hand and hauled on him. "And why are you making us just stand in the kitchen?"
-
"Because I am trying to get us to the door and--" With a sudden growl of agitation, Cyrus threw his free hand up and let Temple pull him along.
"You know what, fine. Fine, we'll just do things your way for now and see how far that gets us! Don't wanna go out? Alright! We'll just stay here and starve."
-
Victory! Temple lugged Cyrus along all the way to the couch, where he flopped down. "Please, we're hardly going to starve right now. You have some food here still! Can't we take a nap and then go out?"
-
With a sigh, Cyrus flopped onto the couch next to Temple and rubbed his head. "Fine. Fine. Whatever. If ya wanna nap like a baby, nap," he grumbled, leaning his arm on the couch's arm.
-
"Awesome."
Getting into a position where he could actually lay down proved not awesome. After twisting and turning and contorting with no help from Cyrus, he had to give in. "Wanna help me out here? How can we situate ourselves here?"
-
Cyrus had been about to complain, to tell Temple to stop squirming, but Temple spoke first.
With another heavy sigh, Cyrus put a hand on his shoulder to still him. "Just...stop movin'. We're just gonna have to...uh..."
This was going to be awkward. But fuck it.
Shifting around, he motioned to Temple. "Get in front of me. Go on, scooch. Okay, now..."
It took some maneuvering, but he managed to stretch out with his back to the couch's back, Temple in front of him with his back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around Temple so he didn't fall off the edge. "Happy?"
-
Temple waggled into position, smiling to himself now that Cyrus couldn't see his face. "Yes, very."
He got a nap and he got to snuggle up with Cyrus? Yeah that made him pretty happy. "You can turn the TV on, just not too loud."
-
"So glad you're givin' me permission to watch my own TV on my couch in my own home," Cyrus said as he grabbed the remote off the arm of the couch and flipped it onto the news.
But despite his grousing, he turned the volume down several bars and let the remote drop to the ground. Then he shifted a little more, because Temple's hair was in his face, and rested his chin on the top of Temple's head to fix that issue. Staring ahead at the TV, though he wasn't really watching it, he took a moment to reflect on his current position.
Like...how the fuck had he gone from almost killing the guy to this, spooning on his couch because Temple wanted his goddamned beauty sleep?
-
Eyes already closed, he reached up blindly and patted Cyrus's cheek. "Turn down the dial on your grouch generator. And shhh."
Temple dozed off and on for a couple of hours. Towards the end, when he was coming up out of it, he ended up twisting more onto his back, head turning to nuzzle close to Cyrus's neck. That's when he finally opened his eyes and remembered where he was.
He smells nice, he thought, not quite willing to get up and moving yet.
-
There was nothing interesting on TV and with nothing else to do, Cyrus ended up dozing nodding off.
It was Temple's twisting around that brought him back, and the pleasant sensation of something nuzzling against his neck. Cracking his eyes open, he glanced down--and there was Temple, turned onto his back and nuzzled against his neck, while Cyrus remained laying on his side with his arm draped across Temple's belly.
Maybe it was because after waking up dry-humping the guy, the bar for things that could mortify him had been set rather high, because this...didn't bother him so much. His body was behaving itself, he felt comfortable and warm and drowsy, and fuck, but how else were they supposed to sleep while they were stuck like this? Especially since he was the sort of sleeper that preferred sleeping on his side to sleeping on his back.
He did go very still, though, and listened. He wasn't sure if Temple was still asleep, unable to see his face from that angle, so after a few seconds he whispered, "Y'awake?"
-
Temple nudged himself further into Cyrus's body and mumbled against his neck. "Mn. No."
-
Cyrus snorted, fighting back a smile, and nudged Temple's shoulder. "No? Funny. 'Cause that sure makes it sound like ya are."
-
In a repeat of the motion he'd performed before, he blindly reached up to pat at Cyrus's cheek. "You're imagining things, cowboy."
-
Cyrus rolled his eyes, but did not protest the nickname.
"So this conversation's all in my head, that it?" He nudged Temple with his leg. "Guess that's in my head, too. And I guess you makin' my leg go numb is also just my imagination. Says the one with the head trauma."
-
Temple sighed. "Do we have to go out? This is nice, and I don't want to move."
-
"So ya just wanna sleep all day, that it?" Cyrus asked. "How the fuck d'ya stay so skinny, if that's how ya do things? Just lay around all day?"
-
Temple still hadn't moved, and didn't intend to until Cyrus made him. "I'm not skinny, i'm lean. Like a cat, thank you very much."
-
"Slender. Pah." Cyrus poked Temple in the side. "I can feel your goddamned ribs. Now get the fuck up," he said, and started to shift restlessly. "I wasn't fuckin' kiddin', my leg's got the damned pins and needles and I'm about to--shit!"
Without meaning to, he pushed Temple forward, off the edge, and the momentum--and their particular connection--sent him toppling off with him.
-
Temple's eyes flew open as his shoulder rolled backward and encountered the edge of the couch, then open air. He grabbed at Cyrus and they went down. Temple hit face down with a grunt, sandwiched between the floor and Cyrus on top of him.
He could barely move with his arm trapped beneath him. "Agh. Way to go, cowboy. Super slick."
-
"Oh, can it!" Cyrus said, and tried to move off of Temple--but found that his own hand was pinned under Temple's body. Because of the handcuffs. Gods. As if he couldn't regret that decision any more, it seemed the universe was going to go out of its way to remind him how bad an idea that had been at every possible turn.
He tugged at his arm, trying to free it. "Just had to nap on the couch. Specifically, the couch! Can't nap on the much bigger bed, gotta nap in the tiny goddamned space, ya fuckin' cat."
-
"Fine! I promise the next time I want to nap while I am handcuffed to you after evading a subterranian deathsnake, I will demand the bed! What are you doing up there?"
The tumble and the cuffs had pretzeled their arms around their bodies in a pretty impressive knot.
-
"What do ya think I'm doin'?" Cyrus shot back. "My hand's fuckin' stuck!"
With an irritated growl, he got his knees under him, lifted some of his weight off of Temple, and pulled at his arm. "Lift up, will ya?"
-
"I can now," Temple muttered. What did Cyrus think he'd been trying to do this whole time?
Unfortunately, Cyrus's upper half still weighed down on him, so really the only thing Temple could do was get his hips up, which...put them in an even more compromising position.
Temple sighed, pushing up as much as he could in an effort to get their hands free, when the absurdity of it hit him. Laughter overtook whatever mortification he might have felt as he let his head drop to muffle his snickers, shoulders shaking.
-
"What the--stop that!" Whatever progress Cyrus had begun to make was halted by Temple's sudden bout of laughter. Or at least it wasn't helping matters. He groaned. This was so stupid. They were going to be stuck together on the fucking floor for hours at this rate. "There something funny about all this? Goddammit, pull yourself together--!"
And then it hit him.
The way he was crouched over Temple, the way Temple's ass was raised...
A dark blush set his face aflame and Cyrus was glad that Temple couldn't see it.
"Oh, ha ha! Okay, yeah, I fuckin' get it. We look like we're fuckin'. HA! Hilarious." He wriggled his hand. "Comedy fuckin' gold! Now get. Off!" Bad word choice there. But right then he didn't care because he was so, so done!
Throwing his weight to the side, he rolled them both over.
-
He'd only been snickering before, but when Cyrus threw a fit and rolled them over, Temple just lost it. He couldn't even move. He just lay on top of Cyrus trying to get some control over himself and really spectacularly failing at it.
-
Cyrus was done. He didn't even have the energy to move and just accepted his fate, laying there with Temple cracking up on top of him. He stared up at a fixed point on the ceiling and, with a heavy sigh, let both arms flop to the side, taking Temple's arm with him.
This was ridiculous.
-
It didn't take long for Temple to laugh himself out, and when he did he rolled off Cyrus. Stayed on the floor, though, and propped himself up on his elbows.
"Hey at least I'm awake now?"
-
Cyrus snorted at that and rubbed his face with his free hand, trying to smooth away some of the heat. Gods, was he seriously blushing? Ughhhh.
"Yeah, yeah. About fuckin' time," he said, and sat up, tugging his handcuffed hand. "Now ya gonna get up or what? We gonna lay here on the goddamned floor now?"
-
"Right, because asking you to take a nap on the couch was just suuuuch a major demand." Temple followed along, going wherever Cyrus tugged him. He was rested and content and perfectly happy, for now, to go along with things and not give Cyrus any trouble.
"So, where we going?"
-
Cyrus let out a large sigh and rolled his eyes skyward. When Temple put it like that, it didn't sound like a large demand. But it was when you were handcuffed to someone and they wanted to do one thing and you wanted to do another.
"Obviously, ya weren't listenin' to a word I said," he grumbled as he headed to the kitchen, grabbed some reusable cloth bags, and found his ration cards. "To the market? Remember? 'Cause we're outta food and princess here don't eat bugs."
-
"I found some that were okay." But yeah, he couldn't argue much on the bug front. They just didn't seem like food. All the mold and fungus was bad enough.
"So," he said, taking half the bags from Cyrus, "we just walk down the street like this."
-
Cyrus's expression was stony. He was well aware of what this looked like. "We just walk down the street like this."
-
"Okay!" Temple squared his shoulders. He was kind of looking forward to this in a weird way? Kind of looking forward to watching Cyrus growl at everyone who glanced at them funny maybe. "Lead the way."
-
Cyrus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn't much for spirituality and shit, but he prayed that if there was a god or something out there, it grant him the patience to get through the coming days with his sanity.
"Alright. Let's go," he said, and tugged Temple along outside.
It was...incredibly awkward trying to figure out how to walk in public, and Cyrus found himself trying out different arm positions. At first, he let their arms hang at their sides between them in an attempt to look natural and hide the handcuffs, but then it looked too much like they were holding hands. So, he had to choose between the holding hands look, or making it obvious that they were cuffed together.
What a choice.
Eventually, Cyrus chose to just walk very briskly so Temple had to walk slightly behind him, his own arm pulled back as he dragged the kid along, so it at least looked like he wasn't happy about the situation. They got a lot of funny looks, but Cyrus shut those down with a blistering scowl that just dared them to judge him.
It wasn't a long walk to the market, which was open-air with a variety of fruits, vegetables, other plant matter, and meats on display--and some live animals. "See anything ya want, princess?"
-
Yeah. Yeah, Temple was definitely enjoying this. Cyrus's discomfort, the curious looks from people trying to not look like they were staring, even Cyrus's desperation as he dragged Temple behind him at a near jog. Once they got the market, all that fell apart. There was no zipping through the crowd here, not if they were going to browse and buy things.
"Uh, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I've really grown to like that one mold. The mossy one that's all dry and kind of looks like angelhair pasta."
-
"Yeah?" Cyrus looked back at Temple with a raised eyebrow. "Huh. Alright, then. That's over here."
He pulled Temple over to the table as he spoke and began to gather up a healthy amount of the stuff, piling it onto a nearby scale to weigh it. "And ya liked the sauce I put on it? The spicy green one?"
-
"Yeah! I don't know what you do, but you make it way better than any of the restaurants."
Oh crap, talking about it was giving Temple a craving. He leaned on Cyrus's arm. "Will you make it for me when we get back?"
-
"Uh..." Cyrus felt his face heat; it always took him off guard when Temple did that, when he went from bratty to just...that! Flustered, Cyrus wriggled his arm free and looked, pointedly, back at the table.
"Well, yeah. The sauce is gonna take a little bit, but it should be done by dinner--ya really like it that much?"
-
"It's probably my favorite thing I've had since I've been here."
He joined Cyrus in perusing the bushels of mold and mushrooms. He could even name a few of them now, which was both triumphant and depressing at once. This place was becoming normal for him.
"And I guess there's no better time to teach me how to make it, huh?" He jiggled the cuffs for emphasis.
-
"Ya wanna learn, eh? So ya mean you're gonna cook for me one day, is what you're sayin'?"
-
"If you're willing to take the risk, I'm willing to try."
He scooped up some weird grain and watched it fall back down into the bushel. It was purple.
-
"So long as I'm supervisin', I'm willin'. If I can see what ya put in it, I'll at least know whether or not I'm gonna get poisoned." Tossing Temple a curious look as a new thought came to him, he cocked his head.
"Can ya even cook? Like, didja even know how? Not that ya'd even remember, I guess..."
-
"Can't say." Another bushel in the stall held that might have been a plant or an animal, and damned if Temple could tell which. It looked like a nest of moss, but when he leaned closer and watched it steadily he saw that it was moving, the green mound of it shifting like one long, slow-motion worm.
He made a face and pulled back from it. "When I think of cooking I get this sense like I'd really like it? So maybe I can do it."
-
"Oooh! Ya found the good stuff there," Cyrus said, and grabbed a handful of the strange, wormy moss to toss into a bag. What could he say? Temple's revulsion tickled him.
"This'll be good in a soup. Anyhow, guess we'll get to test your mettle soon enough, eh, Violet? Wouldn't mind gettin' waited on for once."
-
"A soup..." Temple shuddered at the image that brought up, of that...that whatever it was shifting about in a steaming bowl of broth. Would it even stop moving once it was cooked?
Still, Cyrus gave him the perfect opportunity to get him back. Temple sidled up to him. "Should I wear a maid outfit, too?"
Cyrus probably wouldn't guess that the question was genuine.
-
Cyrus sputtered and dropped a handful of some leafy, purple plant he'd been sifting through. "W-what?!"
-
"You brought it up—gods alive, bread!"
Real bread. Not mold bread or fungus bread, just like real bread made of grain. Probably some freaky-ass underworld grain, but a grain nonetheless. Temple loaded up on it.
-
"How did I bring it up?!" Okay, so he'd been the one calling Temple a girl and teasing him about wearing skirts, but...
He rubbed the side of his nose and busied himself with grabbing up that purple leafy plant while Temple loaded up on bread, head low because goddammit, but his face felt warm. Temple in a maid outfit. He really, really didn't need that image in his head.
-
Temple couldn't take his eyes off the bread. He wanted to eat it now. Just stuff it in his face right here in front of everybody.
"You said you wanted me to wait on you. So, maid outfit. Yes or no?" Very matter-of-fact. He wouldn't mind a real answer.
-
"I...what?" Cyrus's head snapped up, and he stared at Temple, long and hard. "Are you serious?"
-
"What. You think I'm bluffing?" Temple stared right back, openly challenging. He figured he kind of won no matter what the answer. He would have folded his arms if the cuffs allowed for it.
"Maid outfit. Yes, or no?"
-
Cyrus held his stare, eyebrows raised, but he was the first to look away. He tossed a few more strange vegetable-like things into a bag and tugged Temple along after him as he moved down the stall.
"Whatever," he mumbled. "Ya got the balls to do it, I ain't gonna stop ya."
-
"That's hardly an answer..." It didn't count unless Cyrus said he wanted it! Temple would just have to try harder...
Nothing else could arrest his attention now that he had his small mountain of for reals made-with-grain-and-not-dirt bread, so Temple scurried along and contented himself with watching Cyrus pick out whatever else he needed. He was seriously toying with the idea of making Cyrus take him to buy a maid outfit, though...
-
Still keeping his eyes averted, as though Temple couldn't read his mind without eye contact, Cyrus let Temple have his pile of bread and lead the way for the stalls he knew held Temple's favorite things: insects. But protein was important! And what could he say? He loved watching the guy's reactions.
But as he walked, there came a rustling sound and that familiar, annoying sensation of something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Pausing, Cyrus lifted his foot, and saw that a flyer had gotten stuck there, and he quickly peeled it off.
And quickly crumpled it up, hopefully before Temple saw.
Of all the bloody things, it had been a flyer for some gender bender at a club!
Timing!
-
"Ooh, what's that—hey!" Temple made a grab for the flyer. He was too slow, but it didn't matter. He'd seen it before Cyrus crumpled it up.
"We should go to that!" Dress in drag, go out to a real club, dance, maybe hook up with someone since Cyrus wasn't about to bite anytime soon. "When was it for?"
-
Arrrgh, of course Temple had seen it, and of course he wanted to go! Cyrus glowered at him, crumpled paper still clenched in his fist.
"Why? What'd even be the point? No one'd even be able to tell ya were in drag."
-
Temple rolled his eyes. "Oh, I forgot, you hate fun."
He followed along, his eyes dragging over the produce but not really taking any of it in. If he couldn't get Cyrus to go along...
"I'll be climbing the walls after a week of this. If you want to stay barricaded in at your place, then can I at least go?"
-
"What? Ya mean, go alone?" Cyrus said, snapping to attention.
Temple. In drag. At a club.
He'd get eaten alive.
-
Shit. He'd gone too far, tested his boundaries one too many times. Cyrus sounded pissed, like he couldn't believe Temple even went so far as to mention it.
He tried to recover. If he ever wanted them to trust him at all, he couldn't burn these bridges. "Just...I mean, only if you agreed to let me, y'know?"
-
"Like shit I'd agree to that! You? Alone? Ya crazy? You'd get snapped up like fuckin' meat! Oh no, if ya wanna go, you'll need a gopher!"
Cyrus crossed his arms with a glower. "I'll supervise."
-
Temple stared up at Cyrus while his brain had a disconnect.
"Wait," he said, giving his head a shake. "That's why you don't want me to go? Because you know I'll hook up? I thought—"
He cut off with a laugh. No need to give Cyrus any ideas.
"Never mind. Yeah no, that's good. You can supervise me grinding up on everybody on the dance floor. Good plan."
-
Cyrus sank his face into his hand and massaged his temples. That was not a visual he needed.
"Look, dumbshit, you're a goddamned Pilot in enemy territory and you're my prisoner. So I don't wantcha gettin' like...ripped to shreds or molested or somethin'. And! AND! There'll be no 'hookin' up'," he said, breaking out the air quotes. "Not on my watch. There'll be none of that shit, got it? Ya wanna bump 'n' grind, I don't give a shit. But we're goin' to a club, not a fuckin' porno, so keep it in your pants."
-
"No hooking up? Then what's the point? No, no, fine," he added quickly, preemptively giving in to any retort Cyrus might have made. "What you say goes, I get it. I'm not arguing, I'm just..."
He shrugged. "I guess I'm just surprised you're such a prude."
-
"I ain't a prude!" Cyrus snapped. "It's just, uh...it's my fuckin' job to watch out for ya and shit. Make sure ya ain't fuckin' shit up, keep ya safe. That's it. Lettin' ya run off to bone someone ain't exactly accomplishin' that."
-
"I wouldn't be running off I--ugh, seriously, never mind. I really don't want to get into this. Do we have what we need here, are we done?"
Just hella fucking great. His best chance at getting laid in months and Cyrus was cockblocking him. Intentionally!
Whatever, it was still a week until the genderbender. Who knew what could happen in a week?
-
With a snort, Cyrus glanced down at their supplies and shrugged. "I dunno. See anything else ya wanted, your highness? You're the finicky eater here, not me."
-
"I'm fine, let's just go," he said, in a sour mood now despite admonitions to himself that this wasn't quite over yet. He had a whole week to wear Cyrus down.
Once back at Cyrus's place, they began the halting dance of trying to put the food away while handcuffed to each other.
"This is going to get real tiresome real fast," he muttered.
-
"Don't fuckin' start," Cyrus grumbled back as he shoved some mold into the fridge and rammed into Temple when he turned back around. He caught his arm to keep from knocking him over. "Ya think I like this anymore than you? No. And do ya see me bitchin'? Nope."
He shoved a box of cave tea into Temple's arms. "Right top cupboard."
-
"Right because you are absolute fucking optimism incarnate. All you've done is complain! Fucking constantly!"
Temple grunted as Cyrus shoved the box into his arms. He wheeled to put them away, but the cuffs brought him up short. He gave them a good yank. "Hello? Move! You wanna not make this more difficult?"
-
"Move where, jackass?" Cyrus growled back and thrust a hand out, motioning to the tiny kitchen space. "Into the fuckin' counter? How 'bout we switch sides and ya stop flailin' around the kitchen like a dipshit?"
-
"Asshole," Temple said, but he went about trying to make it work anyway, without a whole lot of success because every time he moved Cyrus moved in exactly the wrong direction to make it work. And vice versa. "Maybe if you had more coordination than a drunk with vertigo we could get somewhere!"
-
With an exasperated huff, Cyrus tore the tea from Temple's hands, shoved it in the cupboard, and slammed the door shut. "There! Now was that so fuckin' hard?"
-
It was probably a bad idea to antagonize the man who essentially controlled Temple's fate. Too bad Temple was beyond caring.
"Fucking gods above. I won't make it seven days attached to you! Literally everything that comes out of your mouth makes me want to rip my own arm off just to get out of this!"
-
"Hey, by all means, go the fuck ahead!" Cyrus said, turning to face Temple with a glower. "I ain't stoppin' ya."
-
Temple felt like the glare he aimed at Cyrus should have been able to melt stone.
"No, of course you're not. Because I swear you're fucking enjoying putting me through this shit."
-
That was the part where Cyrus threw his head back and barked a laugh, unable to help it anymore. Seriously? Seriously? He thought he was enjoying this?
"Oh yeah, I just love havin' to shit with ya standin' by the door. Nothin' better!" Cyrus said, and shoved a bag of the dubious noodly stuff they'd bought into Temple's arms. "Fridge. I know ya can reach that."
-
He could, but he just stood there with the food out of spite. And because he wasn't done throwing shade at Cyrus yet.
"Oh right. Because you haven't done anything at all to make this whole glorious fucking experience harder on me."
-
"Like what?!" Cyrus spat, throwing his hands up--and jerking Temple's arm up with them. "I think I've been REALLY goddamned accomodatin' here!"
-
It was Temple's turn to laugh, incredulous and a little hysterical.
"Like what?! Do you seriously not grasp how goddamn fucking suffocating it is to be a political prisoner masquerading as someone who actually has some fucking control over their life? To walk out there, in genuine civilian clothes, among genuine civilian people, and act like I don't have a canister of nerve toxin wrapped around my wrist? And to feel that fucking thing on my wrist while you insult me every other fucking sentence? And all I wanted, the one gods-forsaken thing I had to look forward to, was going to that club and convincing someone to fucking plow me so maybe, just maybe, I could forget for five fucking goddamn minutes that you and a half dozen Teinari execs have my literal life in a vice!"
He was panting when he finished, and so angry tears actually sprang to his eyes. But he was finished, and he got it all out, and he was so very sure he'd regret it but didn't actually think he'd been physically capable of holding a single word back.
-
Oh.
Ohhhhh.
Shit.
That sobered Cyrus right there on the spot, freezing any snarky comebacks before they could even begin to form--and stealing away any desire to say them. In fact, he kind of wished he could take them back because...shit.
Fuck.
Well, now he just felt like a giant douchebag.
All this time, he had been focusing on what an inconvenience it was, and giving the kid a hard time, because shit, he'd figured if the kid could dish it, he could take it. Never once had he stopped to think about what it was actually like for him, though, and uh. Yeah. That was scary fucking shit there. Heavy shit. And fuck, was he crying? Oh shit. He was crying. Why the fuck was he crying, he wasn't supposed to do that, shit, shit, shiiiit! He was supposed to be a tough, stoic Pilot!
But in moments like these, he saw him for what he really was: just a scared kid.
For a long, awkward moment, silence filled the air. He legitimately had no clue what to say to that.
All he could finally dredge up was, "Shit...I'm sorry."
-
A kind of horror sunk on. Why did he have to go off like that now of all times? Now, when he'd so convincingly played it up like nothing could touch him, like this whole thing just rolled right off his back? Like he didn't care one way or the other.
He dashed the water out of his eyes, a quick swipe of his arm across them.
"Fuck me," he muttered. He did the only thing he could think of, and yanked the fridge open to put the food away that he still held in his hand. "I shouldn't have have said all that."
-
"No, it's, uh...it's probably good ya did?" Cyrus said, scratching at the back of his neck and shifting his weight. Shit. He didn't know where to go from here. He wasn't good with this stuff.
And fuck. As much as he'd deny it, he did care about Temple's opinion of him. To some degree. He guessed.
"I have been kinda a--okay, fuck, a lot of a dick to ya and uh...fuck...like... it's probably not that big of a deal if ya wanna hook up or whatever?"
-
Temple groaned and sank his face into his palm. "I can't believe I said that. Gods above, I sounded like I just need some healing cock and everything will be right in my head again!"
He shut the fridge and mechanically went after the rest of the food to put it away. "I'm...I'm only needing some normal human contact, okay? Does that--shit, does that even make sense or am I just making an idiot of myself here?"
-
"...Do ya like...do ya...need like a hug or...?" Cyrus said, faltering, not quite knowing how to make this better because fuck his life this wasn't what he was good at! Beating shit up and skinning animals, that's what he was good at!
-
Temple's face was a blank mask of weariness as he looked up at Cyrus.
Yes, he thought. But his answer didn't matter, and it didn't matter how much it might have helped him to receive even the most grudging scraps of physical affection from Cyrus. There was a limit to how much your own basic core of human dignity could give of itself before it shriveled up. And that? Asking Cyrus for a fucking hug because he was just that desperately lonely? That would just about do him in.
Instead, he held up the case of fluorescent orange fungus in his hands. "I don't know where this goes."
-
"It, uh...in the crisper to the left," Cyrus said with a little wave in the fridge's direction, before going quiet again, because fuuuuck he didn't know how to make this better! So maybe saying nothing was a good idea, since he tended not to word well.
-
That was pretty much how they got the food put away--saying nothing. Temple spoke up only a couple times, when he needed to know where something went.
He felt...well, not exactly better when they were done, but more settled at least. Less like an emotional wreck. They stood in the entryway to the kitchen.
"Well...what's the plan, now?"
-
What's the plan? Cyrus hadn't thought that far ahead. Mostly he'd been focusing really hard on not jamming his foot further down his throat, which in this case meant keeping his mouth shut.
"Uh." He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. This was...tough. Being attached to a person like this. Wasn't like either of them could have their space to recuperate and cool down and vanish long enough to pretend things were normal again.
"I was sorta thinkin', er...well, I ain't got nothin' for a genderbender thing, so..."
-
Ugh. Awkward. Were things going to be weird between them nonstop, now?
"Mm. Me neither, obviously. Wait, are you for reals suggesting shopping? You?"
Trying to get things back to normal. Trying, at least, to pretend like they were.
-
Cyrus shot him a look. "How the fuck else does someone get a dress when he doesn't own a fuckin' dress? Magic it into existence?"
-
That, strangely, made Temple feel like a hundred percent better. So much better that he couldn't respond with anything but chipper agreement. "How indeed. Lead the way!"
-
To the store they went!
Cyrus had so many regrets.
For one, he'd been so focused on making things normal again and getting Temple to not be all sad and weird and awkward that he had, as usual, spoken without actually thinking. Like, he hadn't thought about the fact that they had to go to the women's section handcuffed together, shirtless, and...visit the dressing room together. These were details that would have been nice to consider beforehand, but the words were out of his mouth and he couldn't exactly risk taking them back and crushing Temple anew.
This stupid genderbender bullshit was basically all the kid had to look forward to so...
Goddammit.
People stared. And why wouldn't they? And in those stares, Cyrus felt his reputation plummet.
This would be hard to bounce back from.
He did his best to ignore it for the time being, though--he could explain later!--and just focused on grabbing the first awful dress he saw (a bright red backless number) that looked like it could fit him. Hopefully. He didn't understand women's sizes. Why were men's sizes all conveniently measured while women's clothes came in small, medium, and large? What did that even mean? Gods. Maybe a large. Though that just sounded like he was fat. What a blow to the self esteem.
Whatever.
"These sizes don't even make sense," Cyrus muttered as he glanced down at his dress while they headed for the fitting rooms. "Yet ya seemed to have no trouble. Ya done this before or somethin'?"
-
"Of course," Temple said, deadpan-serious. "I know my own size in lingerie."
As they walked past the women's underwear, Temple pulled them up short. He snagged the first two pair of girlish, slutty panties he saw and held one up in front of his crotch.
"What do you think? Lacey?" He switched it out for the other one. "Or ribbons?"
The second one was the kind that tied at the hips with ribbons. Ribbons that a man might undo with his teeth.
-
What was he--OH GODS WHAT.
Cyrus balked, taking a step backwards in alarm as his eyes zeroed in on the panties and...was he...what?
"You're not fuckin' serious," was all he could manage to blurt out, even as he continued to stare--focusing a little more on the ribbony panties and their precarious ties.
-
"What?" He switched them out again, the lacy pink ones now in front of him. "Not slutty enough?"
-
"You're not seriously fuckin' wearin' those," Cyrus repeated, and it was an effort to keep his eyes on Temple's face and not on his crotch.
-
Temple was just about done with subtlety. "Which one would make a man more likely to fuck me?"
-
Cyrus jerked his eyes back up to Temple's face, his own face--much to his horror--growing quite warm. "Why the fuck are ya askin' me?"
-
"You're a man, aren't you?"
-
"Uh, last I checked, yeah..."
-
"Aaaand...?" He held the one with the ribbons up to himself again.
-
The ribbons. Definitely the ribbons, Cyrus thought as he stared at those panties that could be taken off with one's teeth.
"...And I ain't into dudes."
-
Well that put a hitch in his plans to get Cyrus into bed.
He sighed. "Fine then, if they were on a woman."
-
Cyrus shifted his eyes away and cleared his throat. "The ribbons."
-
"Thank you, was that so freakin' hard? Gods. I need to go try everything on."
Temple couldn't try on the top he'd picked out, of course. Not with Cyrus handcuffed to him. But he got the skirt on and gave it a swish while Cyrus stood outside with nothing but his cuffed arm sticking through the curtain.
Temple tossed the curtain back and presented the skirt to Cyrus. He'd chosen a dark grey that hugged his hips tight and showed off a decent amount of thigh. "Well?"
-
It was painfully boring and awkward just standing there with his arm stretched out as he waited for Temple to change into...whatever he was changing into.
Which turned out to be a really short skirt.
That showed a lot of thigh.
Which, of course, instantly drew his eyes because...uh...
He had surprisingly nice legs for a dude.
Surprisingly supple, soft dude legs.
Legs that were very smooth--
"Didja shave?"
-
This would all be so much easier if Temple could manage to stop giving a shit about Cyrus's personal boundaries and just read his mind. The man straight up said he wasn't into dudes, but then he looked at Temple like that.
He shrugged. "I keep them shaved."
The top he picked out would bare his stomach, so he held his hand up to give a better idea of how it would all look together. "Anyway, this is about where the top will fall on me."
-
"That's...a lotta skin," Cyrus said, and had to make a concentrated effort to look up from Temple's legs to his face again. "Ya might get cold."
-
"Maybe someone will warm me up."
Temple bit his bottom lip and looked down at himself. "It doesn't look stupid, though?"
He was going for hot, not for the awkward look of a dude who didn't know how to wear women's clothes at all.
-
Fuckfuckfuck.
Temple had cornered him good here. Because he had to give the truth, or be an asshole, and after that blow up back home he still felt like a pretty epic asshole. And Temple looked legitimately worried which...well...go figure. No one wanted to look like a clown, even though Cyrus didn't particularly care about looking like a pretty lady. He didn't think he could pull that off if he tried. Temple, though...
He bit the inside of his cheek, then let out a breath through his nose, resigned. "Turn around a little," he said, twirling a finger.
-
Temple whirled. The skirt had so much sway, just like he'd been hoping for. It would look amazing when he danced, and it should be, if he'd judged it right, a bit shorter in the back than in front. Not quite decent for casual wear but perfect for a club. He looked over his shoulder at Cyrus.
"Verdict?"
-
Cyrus hoped he'd been quick enough in looking back up that Temple hadn't caught him inadvertently checking out his ass. He straightened, rolling his shoulders back, and gave a little noncommittal shrug. "It...yeah. It looks pretty good," he said, with another awkward clearing of his throat.
"Shows off your, uh...military fitness."
Which was code for "your ass looks smokin'".
-
"Thanks," he said. "That's is the idea. All right, be right back."
Back into the fitting room. He could just not figure Cyrus out, and it was nearly getting too wearying to try. Flirting with someone who straight up said they weren't interested in you that way was disheartening enough without adding in Cyrus's confusing nonverbal cues. Yet what choice did he have except to believe Cyrus's own words?
He was more pensive than anything else when he emerged from the fitting room.
"Y'know..." He paused, giving Cyrus a good look over. "You'd look way better in a skirt than a dress. Something kilt-like."
-
Cyrus arched an eyebrow. "Ain't a kilt a dude thing?"
-
"I said kilt-like."
-
"So like...what?" Cyrus said, and gave a helpless look around the area, because he quite frankly didn't even know where to begin.
-
Temple ended up shopping for him, picking up a wrap skirt made of thick material and a black v-neck shirt to go with it.
"See, like this." He held the skirt up to Cyrus and gave him a wink. "It'll show off how rock-hard your hips and stomach are."
-
"Well," Cyrus said as he eyed the clothing, tone begrudging. "I did work pretty goddamned hard for those..."
-
"You have," Temple said. No argument there. Cyrus was capable of things out there in the subterranean wilderness that Temple couldn't even imagine himself doing. "That's why you should show them off."
He narrowed his eyes at Cyrus. "Y'know I'm starting to think I'm not the only one who needs to get laid."
-
Cyrus narrowed his eyes right back at Temple, lips pulling into a scowl. "What's that supposed to mean?"
-
Temple steered them toward the shoes. "It can't have been easy for you either, having to babysit me all the time. You haven't been able to bring a woman over the entire time I've been there."
-
"Eh." Cyrus gave a little shrug as he let himself be lead along, since he sure as hell didn't know where he was going or what he needed. Temple knew what he was doing, though, so he'd let him sort it out and just go with it. "Ain't your fault. Work was busy before that. My dry spell started before ya came into the picture."
-
"All the more reason you should be looking for a hookup at that club, too."
Temple was just about sick of shopping at that point, so he grabbed pretty much the first pair of heels that looked both decent and like something he could dance in.
-
Cyrus glanced at the shoes, then at Temple's heels, and decided immediately that nope, that was not a thing that was going to happen. He'd wear his goddamned work boots with that skirt before he wore those rickety things that'd break his ankles.
"Maybe on a normal day," he said with a shrug. "All the chicks'll be lookin' like dudes. No way to know what they'll look like when they ain't duded up."
-
Temple rolled his eyes as they checked out. "Gods, you're picky. You've really got a type, huh?"
-
"Ya don't?"
-
"Sure I do, but I like to think I'm pretty flexible."
-
"Huh," Cyrus said, and set his clothes on the counter as the couple in front of them had their items totaled.
"So, what is it? Ya just like dudes or...?"
-
"Uhhhh..."
Well, shit. What did it matter? Cyrus told him flat out he wasn't interested right? They could have an adult conversation like adults about adult things, couldn't they?
"Kinda like you. All y'know like...rugged."
-
Like...him?
Cyrus stared at Temple, for a second not quite sure how to take that as he realized...well...s hit. Was Temple into him or something? Or--no. No, no. No way. That was just a coincidence. He was just using him as a point of reference. His type was rugged, Cyrus was rugged, and it was just a comparison! That's it. That's all.
"Huh," he said again, nodding slowly. "I could see that."
-
Phew. That could have been awkward. But Cyrus seemed to get what he meant.
"We don't need anything else, do we? I'm just about sick of shopping."
And exhausted from the entire day. He just wanted to collapse in Cyrus's bed and fall asleep.
-
"Fuck no. I'm pretty done here, myself," Cyrus said, glancing at the couple ahead of them again because they were taking their sweet time being chatty with the clerk. Annoying as fuck, is what that was. "Didn't get shoes, but whatever. I can just wear my boots. I ain't walkin' in heels."
He nodded to Temple's heels. "How the fuck do ya even walk in those? Ya worn 'em before?"
-
"Ohhh yeah. Definitely. I don't exactly remember when specifically, but they're familiar for sure."
-
"Ya sure ya were a Pilot and not like a hooker or somethin'?"
-
He shrugged. "I just like being feminine."
Finally done with the store, they headed home.
-
Once they were back home, Cyrus tossed his clothes onto a chair and let out a breath.
"So. I think we got everything we need for the next week, yeah?" he said, raking a hand through his hair. "'Cause I dunno about ya, but I'm pretty good just stayin' inside 'til the locksmith comes. Dunno if I'm gonna be able to look my people in the eye after all this."
-
"You'll think of something," Temple said. And yeah, not leaving the house anytime soon suited him just fine. He tugged Cyrus toward the bedroom. "Sleep now?"
-
"Sleep now," Cyrus said, letting his shoulders slouch on an exhale, some of the tension leaking out of him at the thought of rest. And this he let himself be lead back to his room, trailing Temple like a dog on a chain before sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. After all, he couldn't go far without Temple.
"Time passes faster when ya sleep a lot."
-
Temple shucked his pants, leaving only his boxers on, and joined Cyrus on the bed. He sat cross-legged, fidgeting. There was something he'd been trying to figure out how to say all day long, and now here they were about to go to sleep and if he didn't just get it out now he'd lose his nerve.
"Yeah, so...about what I said earlier..."
-
Cyrus froze before he could begin to undress, his blood going cold and stomach clenching. Oh gods. Here it came. Back to that, the big emotional clusterfuck he had no idea how to handle save with the grace of a five-legged, two-faced, radioactive bull in a glass shop. He tried to keep his face neutral, and just in case he failed and went all "deer in headlights", he shifted his eyes down to the buttons of his pants.
"Uh...uh huh...?"
-
"I just..I mean I wanted to make sure--ugh, could...could you not look at me when I say this?" He put a hand up in front of his eyes and looked down at the sheet.
"I feel like...like I sounded ungrateful, and I'm not. You've been...okay, so you've been really good to me, and I know that. Like, better than you had to be. And I wanted to make sure I didn't give the impression that I want out, or that I want...reassignment or something. Because the truth is, if I have to be in Teinar, I'd rather be here than with anyone else."
Gods alive. His face was burning up and he wasn't even looking at Cyrus. He finished in a rush. "So I didn't mean to make you feel bad and thanks good night."
And he flopped down with his back to Cyrus and his hand still covering his eyes because he could not stand to look at the guy after that.
-
...That was the complete opposite of what Cyrus expected. Surprising.
Unsurprisingly, it was just as awkward if not more.
Cyrus couldn't handle emotional crises. But this? This candid, sincere gratitude?
Oh fuck.
This was the kid he'd nearly shot in the head. He'd been just one trigger pull, one moral decision away from doing it. If he'd done just one thing differently, Temple wouldn't be here now telling him all this. They wouldn't be planning to go to a goddamned ridiculous genderbender thing together. They wouldn't have gotten into this goddamned ridiculous situation with the bloody handcuffs, wouldn't have laughed over him eating bugs. He would have only known him as an enemy corpse and that...
That was kind of terrifying looking back. And horribly fucking guilt-inducing. Did he know that? Know all the horrible things he'd thought and almost done back then?
It was perfectly okay to him that Temple wanted to let it all drop after that, because Cyrus wasn't sure where to pick it back up or what to even say to all that. Temple rolled over, but Cyrus stayed where he was seated on the bed for a moment longer before he slipped off his pants, boxers still on, and flopped back onto the bed.
"I'm, uh...glad I got ya, too," he mumbled at last. "Anyone else woulda done a shitty job supervisin' ya."
-
Temple only nodded. He really didn't have anything to say. He'd kind of said it all.
Or...almost said it all. No way would he tell Cyrus some of the things he knew, the things he'd overheard. The thoughts that had gone on in the heads of some of the other officers who might have taken him under house arrest. People who hated Aedolis, and who hated him personally because he'd come from there. He wouldn't tell Cyrus the violence they'd wished on him, or how desperately some of them had fought to get him to themselves, the disproportionate amount of time they'd spent thinking up ways to beat him down into misery via methods that might go undetected.
Yeah, he was ecstatic to be with Cyrus. And now he'd told him that, if not exactly the entire truth of it.
-
Several days later...
"Hey, pass me the bread," Cyrus told Temple as he cut up something that looked like lettuce, if lettuce were bioluminescent and bright aqua blue. It was a challenge to do it one-handed, his other hand cuffed to Temple's hand and stretched out to give him room to move, but he'd adapted over the last few days.
And today was, supposedly, to be the last of such days. He'd gotten a call from the locksmith that morning, and not a moment too soon, considering today was the genderbender shindig.
Cyrus knew it would have crushed Temple if they couldn't go because they were still stuck together--of if they went stuck together and Temple couldn't...enjoy himself.
-
Temple managed not only to pass the bread, but also grab the chips and fix their drinks and put away everything as Cyrus finished with it--all without a single trip up or yank or collision due to the cuffs. They'd gotten so coordinated with each other that the handcuffs barely slowed them down anymore.
"She's here pretty soon, right?" Meaning, of course, the locksmith. They had just enough time to eat, get the cuffs taken care of, get ready for the club and head out.
-
"She said noon," Cyrus said as he finished assembling their sandwiches, sliced them into two triangles, and licked a rusty brown sauce from his fingers. He held a plate out to Temple with a grin, excited to see how he'd react if and when he noticed that some of the contents were wriggling.
"So any time now. Course, we're runnin' on Teinar time here, so give or take twenty minutes."
-
Temple was just about bouncing up and down with a restless excitement. To get the cuffs off, to get to the club. They'd just finished with the sandwiches when the locksmith arrived, way closer to one than to noon.
Temple sprang up at the knock on the door. "Finally! Gods, why am I so nervous? Are you nervous?"
He supposed he was just nervous she wouldn't be able to get the things off after all.
-
"Nervous? Why? I'm excited," Cyrus said as he rose with Temple and made his way to the door. "I can finally shit without an audience. Whatcha nervous about? The club?"
And then he reached the door, undid the lock, and opened it to reveal a young, pretty woman in her early twenties carrying a box of tools.
She took one look at the two of them, slowly lifted an eyebrow, and nodded to herself. "Yuuuup. Looks like I found the right place."
-
Oh she was a riot. Could they not have done this without the snark?
Temple hung back and let Cyrus invite her in.
"So how long does it take to pick a lock," he asked as she unrolled a leather satchel filled with tools.
-
"Oh, I should be done in two shakes of a brakka's tail," Riley said as she selected a pick and examined it with one eye squinted. "Yup! This oughta do the trick. C'mere."
Cyrus stepped closer, pulling Temple along with her, and Riley examined the lock briefly before she got to work. About thirty seconds passed before--
"Oh, shit!" she gasped, freezing, and Cyrus's heart plummeted clear to his feet.
"What? What's 'oh shit'? What happened?!"
Riley stared intently at the lock a moment longer, then barked a sudden laugh as the handcuffs clicked open.
"Pffffhaha, I'm just fucking with you. There, fly and be free."
-
Fuck Riley. Not funny.
Temple gave her the most sour of looks before the elation of finally not being literally attached to another person overwhelmed any and all negativity.
"Yes! Thank you. We've been attached for...for way too long."
-
"A whole week!" Riley said as she put away her tools. "Man. That must have been totally awkward."
Cyrus glowered at her, his heart still pounding fast from her damned joke, that had very much not been funny. He didn't know what he'd do if he had to be stuck to the kid for another day!
"That's one way of puttin' it," he grumbled as he rubbed his wrist. "Thanks, Ry. You're a real lifesaver."
"Mhmm," Riley said with a smirk, before she hoisted her tools, snatched the offered ration card from Cyrus's hand, and headed for the door. She snapped off a mock salute. "Try to stay out of trouble, okay? Like maybe fuzzy handcuffs next time, the plastic ones you can break."
Cyrus sputtered, but Riley was already out the door, and it closed fast behind her.
-
Well wasn't Riley just a fount of humor. Fuzzy handcuffs did sound fun but he'd lay money Cyrus wouldn't see the hilarity in that one.
Before it could get weird, Temple made for the hall. It felt weird not to have the weight of Cyrus's arm clinging to his own. "I'm going to go take a shower without you standing two feet away for once!"
-
Cyrus was still standing there like a gaping fish when Temple laid claim to the bathroom. That, at the very least, broke the awkwardness a little.
"I'll be right in after ya, so leave me some hot water, yeah?"
-
"Okay," Temple said, projecting his voice over the hammering water of the shower.
It felt off without Cyrus constantly at his right side, but he adapted back to the blessing of normalcy quick enough. Plus, he'd get to wear shirts again!
He emerged from the shower with his hair still dripping. "All yours."
-
Cyrus was in the shower in a flash and it was...such an odd feeling, being able to move his arm independently without another person attached, to have total and complete privacy and full range of motion.
It was also pretty damned blissful, to be able to thoroughly enjoy something so simple as a shower without having to hurry up because someone was hanging right outside, stuck to you.
He came back out when the water was lukewarm, a towel around his waist and hair all wet.
"Goddamn, I almost forgot how to use my arm without you all attached to it," he said as he headed for his bedroom. "I swear my arm's gotten all like...shriveled up from lack of use."
-
While Cyrus was in the shower, Temple took advantage of the privacy to get into his skirt and top on. He was checking it all out in the mirror when Cyrus walked in.
"I know right," Temple said over his shoulder. "We can wear shirts again, too!"
-
"Man, it's gonna feel weird wearin' a shirt after--uh..."
Cyrus froze in the doorway the moment his eyes fell on Temple.
And then he just stared.
-
When Cyrus didn't answer, Temple paused. Cyrus was staring openly at him. That, at least, boded well for the way he looked in these clothes. If even Cyrus stopped to get an eyeful, he had to be on to something with this skirt.
"I'll get out of your way," he said, his smile just a bit of a smirk because he'd managed to strike Cyrus speechless and that was so worth putting up with all the princess jokes.
He grabbed the heels of the bed and slid past Cyrus.
-
...Just.
Uh...
Wow.
This was awkwardly uncomfortable.
"Er...yeah," Cyrus said in response, and pointedly kept his eyes up even as they were instinctively drawn downward toward those shapely legs. Just...goddamn. From the back, it was almost easy to forget Temple was a man. "Guess I, uh, better get ready, too."
Don't look, don't look, don't look...
-
Cyrus's reaction certainly gave Temple some confidence. He'd been worried, before. For months he'd been dressing in what the military gave him and when he finally got a stipend to buy his own clothes it mostly had to be the basics. He was out of practice with all this.
While Cyrus got his clothes on, Temple slid into the heels and applied some quick make up. Not much, as he didn't think he could pull off any kind of thorough application, but he darkened up his eyes, mainly just got some liner on there and some shadow that was just slightly darker than his skin tone. He wanted to draw attention to them.
-
Cyrus felt ridiculous.
The "kilt" thing fit fine, the shirt did too, but gods he felt stupid. Like a giant old draft horse trying to pretend it was a dainty prancing pony. Shoulders slouched, he scowled at his reflection.
He made an ugly chick.
But he also wasn't going there to look pretty, so he shrugged and headed back out when he was done, the tag of his skirt poking out the back and clothes all rumpled from being haphazardly tossed on. And the moment he stepped outside the room, he was greeted by the sight of Temple--
Who looked like he'd stepped out of a fucking fashion magazine.
Again, Cyrus stared, eyebrows rising, startled into place. He...really did look like a hot chick. That would be hot if he were a chick, but who wasn't hot to him because he wasn't a chick. Goddamn. Sure he teased him about his flowery eyes, but they really were stunning. In an...what was the word? Anesthetical way? Something like that.
Too. Weird. Fuck. How the shit did he do that?
He cleared his throat loudly and shifted his eyes up to some vague point on Temple's forehead. "Ya about done?"
-
"I'm ready." There wasn't a lot for him to do, anyway. His outfit was fairly simple--panties, skirt, shirt and shoes. Then the eye make up and that was about it. He wasn't even bringing anything.
They were walking, as most people did in Teinar. Temple looped his arm through Cyrus's when they were out the door. He was near giddy at the chance to go do something fun for a change. Fun and loud and new. "You'll let me drink, won't you? Please say I can drink!"
-
"Yeah, yeah, ya can drink," Cyrus said with a relenting sigh, clunking along beside Temple in his usual boots. "Just don't get too sloshed, eh? I'm the one's gotta drag your ass back. Dunno what your floofy Aedolian drinks're like, but Teinar's got the real shit."
-
"Aww, does that mean you won't carry me home?"
-
"It means I don't wanna," Cyrus grumbled.
Which was just another way of saying without saying it that yes, he would carry his ass home if he had to.
-
"I'll do my best to show some restraint," Temple said. And he would--with drinking, at least.
Besides, he wasn't looking to get super drunk. He wanted to be awake and aware for everything!
They crossed beneath a footbridge and entered what must have been an entertainment district, as bass started pumping through the ground from some club or other nearby.
-
"This must be our place," Cyrus said as they drew closer to the building--which was a pretty damned obvious statement, he realized, as a man in a dress and bad makeup brushed by them with a woman in a suit with penciled in stubble.
At least he wasn't the most awkward-looking dude here.
He let out a sigh and gave a lazy wave toward the door. "There we are. Go on, your people await."
-
"See?" Temple gave Cyrus a jab in the side. "You were worried you'd be the only awkward one there."
Since Cyrus had basically given Temple permission to leave his side and go nuts, he didn't feel all that bad about pealing away from Cyrus and losing himself in the club immediately. Cyrus would be fine. He could drink, get something to eat, maybe stop being so goddamn scowly for two seconds and actually talk to a woman.
Plenty of people hadn't dressed up for the genderbender at all, and in a few minutes Temple was on the dance floor with a drink in one hand and a man's arm around his waist as they danced close.
-
Cyrus trudged into the club and immediately took up residence at the bar. He grabbed a beer, leaned back against the counter, and nursed it while he watched for Temple--
And caught sight of him out there, already hot on some guy.
Some guy that hadn't even fucking dressed up! What a lameass.
With a scowl, he watched the two and took another long swallow of beer. Best to keep an eye on him, make sure he wasn't going to get shredded.
-
The guy's hands found Temple's hips. Then another man found them and Temple swayed between one man pressed to his front, the other to his back. Hands ran up and down his bared stomach, and another reached around to his ass. He didn't know or care where Cyrus had got himself to at that point.
-
Cyrus was right there at the bar, on his second beer, which was empty now but he hadn't yet noticed that fact as he all out glared at the two men double-teaming Temple like creeps.
BUT TEMPLE WANTED THAT and he still felt like an asshole after the guy's emotional outburst. Just let him have his fun. Just let him get it out of his goddamned system. Just...let it go, ignore it...
One man's hand slid along Temple's thigh, and Cyrus grit his teeth. Whatever. This was what happened at clubs. Bump 'n' grind and whatever. Things got gropey. With a roll of his eyes, he set his empty beer down finally and ordered another.
He turned back around, fresh beer to his lips, just in time to see one man's hand brazenly vanish up Temple's skirt--not up the back, even, but up the front!--and Cyrus slammed his beer bottle onto the counter, pushed off the bar, and marched their way.
"These guys botherin' ya?" he growled.
-
Temple was so close to asking both of these guys if they wanted to disappear in the back together. Their hands were all over him, and he could feel their erections every time they pressed up against him.
So close and then...Cyrus happened.
He didn't even see Cyrus approach, but all of a sudden the warm press of bodies was no longer on him and both guys were backing away.
Temple stared up at Cyrus, glowering there like a big angry grizzly. "W...what..." he sputtered. "What are you doing?"
-
"What's it look like?" Cyrus growled back. "Ya were gettin' fuckin' molested there!"
-
The two guys disappeared into thin air at those words. Temple watched them flee into the crowd and didn't know if he wanted to be more angry or disappointed.
Angry. Definitely angry. "What the shit does that mean? They were feeling me up, like I wanted them to! At what point did you stop understanding why the hell I'm here?!"
-
"That wasn't just 'feelin' ya up', they were goin' for your dick!" Cyrus snapped back, angry but not quite able to figure out why.
-
Temple threw his hands up, utterly at a loss. "So??"
-
"So...so...!" Cyrus had no good answer for that. He let out a frustrated growl. "So that ain't right!"
-
"So they can fuck me, but they can't touch me?!"
-
"They...they just looked like scum!" Cyrus said, floundering for a reason, though he hadn't figured out what his reason was. "Weren't even fuckin' dressed up!"
-
Temple wasn't about to yell this over the music, so he grabbed Cyrus by the shirt and hauled them close together so he could talk directly into his ear.
"Uh, hello, I can read their minds! I'll know if they're trying to murder me or something! So just what the fuck are you doing?"
-
Fuck if he knew! "I just think ya could do better!"
-
Temple made a sound of utmost frustration. At least they weren't having to yell over the music anymore, even if he had to stand on his toes to reach Cyrus's ear. "Again, I don't know what that means! Better than what? Are you going to screen every guy I meet tonight?"
-
"I...no! Just--argh! Fuckin' forget it, carry on!" Cyrus snapped in frustration, and spun on his heel to start back for the bar.
-
Temple could have moved to the other side of the bar, broken Cyrus's line of sight on him, but whatever it was that was going on, he'd rather get it solved than have it pop up again later just as he was about to hook up again.
A huge man in a green dress danced toward Temple. His muscled arms were the size of Temple's thighs, and he looked like he threw boulders around for fun. Temple sidled closer and as soon as he was in arm's reach the guy yanked over right up against him. One of his hands reached around to clamp down on Temple's ass, underneath the skirt, and they danced like that, with this guy clamping Temple right up to his body.
He actually wasn't down with this level of aggression, but he didn't care right then. He'd kept Cyrus in sight the whole time, and now he looked right at him. Not exactly a challenge but unmistakably a message.
If he needed to extricate himself, he could literally crush this asshole into a cube.
-
Sip. Sip. Sip.
Cyrus sipped at his third beer and met Temple's eyes from across the dancers, mouth still drawn into a hard, thin line. Again the impulse rose inside him to butt in, to fight the asshole off of Temple--but he resisted. Barely, but he did. This was what Temple wanted, and he didn't want to get into another awkward altercation where he couldn't really articulate what the goddamned issue was!
Finally, he shifted his eyes away.
Just ignore it, just ignore it...
-
Cyrus looked away, and Temple relaxed. Hopefully they wouldn't have another incident.
A few more minutes of dancing, and the guy tried to drag Temple toward the back. He made it all of two steps before something invisible yanked his feet out from under him and he hit the floor face first. Temple took the opportunity to slip away into the crowd.
The guy got up with a bloody nose, and Temple aimed a wink at Cyrus.
See? He could take care of himself.
-
Motion caught Cyrus's eye, right in his peripheral vision, and he turned to watch as the big guy started dragging Temple along. He tensed, his eyes narrowing and fists clenching, and reminded himself that this was what Temple wanted, that he could handle himself, that he'd just get pissed if he intervened. And so he grit his teeth and stood his ground and counted in his head, deciding that if Temple showed actual distress he'd be beating that man's head into the ground in two seconds flat.
Except that was when Green Dress Man ate the floor.
He caught Temple's look--his wink--and felt his face heat. He glanced away and huffed, knowing that, rationally, he was being paranoid but...dammit, Temple was his charge! He had to watch out for him!
-
After that, Temple went through a round of way better guys. Nicer guys who danced with him for long stretches before they both moved on to other partners. After an hour and a half straight of dancing, Temple went in search of Cyrus and a place to sit down.
-
By that time, Cyrus had taken a seat at a table near the bar. He had chatted to a few people, but found himself distracted as his eye kept getting drawn back to Temple--just to make sure he was faring okay, of course! But he seemed to be holding his own, and those guys, at least, hadn't been trying to drag him off into dark rooms like creepsters.
He was on yet another beer by then; he'd lost track of how many he'd downed, except he'd downed enough to start feeling fuzzy in the head. He did catch sight of Temple when he headed over, though, and he lifted his head up from where he'd been leaning it against his hand.
"Runnin' outta steam?"
-
Temple squeezed in next to Cyrus and leaned on his shoulder to get close enough to be heard. "Just need to catch my breath."
Cyrus seemed a fair bit looser. "Did you actually manage to relax? How many of those have you had?"
-
"Uh..."
Cyrus glanced down at his near-empty beer bottle.
"Many."
-
"Meanwhile I've had one drink. And you were worried about me getting out of hand?"
-
"I know my limits. I don't know that ya know yours."
-
"Uh huh. Do I need to cut you off?"
-
"The fuck ya do!" Cyrus said, voice slightly slurred, and quickly downed the rest of his beer. "Who's in charge here, eh? Who's babysittin' who?"
-
Temple rolled his eyes.
"Oh you're in charge, Officer." And he gave Cyrus a quick, obnoxious peck on the cheek before prancing off onto the dance floor again.
-
"What the shit?!" Cyrus yelped, slapping a hand to his cheek even as his face heated.
"Thanks! Now I need more drink!" he barked after Temple, and rose to his feet to head to the bar.
-
Ooh. Yikes. Guess even a little peck was seriously unwelcome. He'd have to remember not to go there again.
Another hour of dancing and he had a decent guy on the hook, but he had to find Cyrus first. He couldn't wander away without telling him. His limited freedom depended solely on him willingly cooperating.
So while the guy waited for him, he started a circuit of the club, searching for what he guessed was a very drunk Cyrus.
-
Cyrus was quite sloshed.
He'd lost count of how much alcohol he'd had at that point, and it hadn't all been beer. Some tequila had made its way in there somewhere. Needless to say, he was pretty hammered. Not blackout drunk, and not drunk enough not to realize what he was doing--but drunk enough not to care.
He was back at the bar, ordering a shot of something (he let the barkeep choose, he couldn't remember the names of drinks) when he saw Temple approaching, an gave a small grin and a wave. "Heeeeey."
-
Temple returned the smile, even if was a little odd seeing Cyrus so drunk. "Hey. You seem happier. Enjoying yourself, finally?"
-
"Hah, yeah. Good booze, here," Cyrus said, still grinning. He tilted his head to give Temple a look up and down, from his fine, toned legs to his pretty violet eyes.
"Damn, ya make a hot chick."
-
"Uh...thanks. So, is it all right if I disappear for a little while? Just to one of the rooms in the back. With this guy..."
-
"...What guy."
-
"You can't see him from here. He's waiting for me in the back." This was already not going how he'd hoped it would go.
-
Cyrus scowled. "He decent?"
-
"Yeah, he's a saint," Temple said, letting his annoyance come through even though it was probably a bad idea. He needed to suck up to him right now, not antagonize him.
-
"And ya wanna go fuck 'im?" Cyrus said, still scowling.
-
How was this even a question in Cyrus's mind? Temple didn't feel like he was being subtle here.
"Yes?"
-
Cyrus's scowl deepened. "You're too good for that."
-
This again? They'd already freakin' covered this.
"I thought we were past this," he said, aware of how long this was taking. That guy wouldn't wait forever. "Can I go or not?"
-
Cyrus let out a long sigh, shooting a glower down at his half-finished drink, and then looking back up to Temple. "Yeah, fine," he grumbled. "Just don't be too long, and..."
He trailed off, a frustrated look crossing his face.
-
Temple wheeled to go as soon as Cyrus answered in the affirmative, but apparently it wasn't going to be that easy. He hovered, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"And...?"
-
Cyrus didn't answer with words. Instead he grabbed Temple by the wrist and tugged him down to be on his level--so he could smash his lips to Temple's.
-
Temple allowed it longer than he should have. Maybe it made him a terrible person, but he'd wondered so many times what it would be like to kiss Cyrus breathless, and Cyrus had that grip on his wrist, that demanding, possessive grip...
It was the heavy taste of alcohol on Cyrus's mouth that reminded him. He didn't pull out of Cyrus's grasp, but he did turn his head away to break the kiss.
"You're so drunk right now."
-
"And you," Cyrus said, still keeping hold of Temple's wrist, "are so fuckin' hot."
-
"Well I know that," Temple said, trying to keep it light and keep the conversation going so Cyrus didn't do anything else he would regret in the morning. Cyrus's hand clamped around his wrist was sending unfortunate signals to his body, but he ignored that.
He sighed, resigning himself to a lost evening, and used Cyrus's grip on him to try and get the man to his feet. "Let's just go home."
-
Cyrus stumbled to his feet and staggered, bumping into Temple and thrusting a hand out to catch them both before they toppled. He wrapped his arm around Temple's shoulders and pressed in close--which, unfortunately for Temple, meant he had to bear the brunt of Cyrus's weight.
Because man was the ground rocking, the moment he stood up. He'd felt so stable sitting down.
"Shit...I guess I am drunk," he said, and snorted a laugh. "Fuck. Ya smell great."
-
"It's just the scent of desperation," Temple muttered. He got a hold of Cyrus's arm, braced his own feet, and managed to get them walking. Hopefully the cold cave air outside would help clear Cyrus's head.
-
"Naw, smells more like...like..."
Cyrus leaned in and took a draft of his hair, nose tickling against Temple's ear. "...Well...my shampoo."
-
"Huh, weird. Almost like I've been using your shampoo for weeks, isn't it?"
Outside, finally! Supporting Cyrus was way easier without the milling bodies of the club all around them. "Nighttime" in Teinar meant most of the artificial sunlight was off, the heat dissipating upward to leave the city chilly and damp.
-
"Right?" Cyrus said, and laughed as he stumbled along with Temple toward his humble abode, his hand gradually slipping further down Temple's back.
-
Gods alive. Cyrus was so gone he didn't even know what he was doing. And Temple was starting to wonder just how much Cyrus actually needed his support to walk.
"Think you can manage on your own, now?"
-
"Probably," Cyrus said as his hand landed on Temple's ass--and stayed there.
-
Another sigh. "Why couldn't you have done this when you were sober?"
Not really a question for Cyrus to answer. More rhetorical. More aimed at the universe that kept screwing him over. This was all just part of his shit luck. Go out to get laid, fail at that, go home with the one guy he really wanted to mess around with when he was too drunk to accept the offer.
But since Cyrus could walk mostly on his own, Temple at least was able to get out from under his weight and pick up their pace. Thankfully Cyrus's place wasn't that far away, now.
-
Cyrus could walk on his own, even if he was a bit unsteady and stumbled a lot. But they made it back to his place, Cyrus staggering through the door and catching Temple's arm on the way in so he didn't eat floor. He turned them, backed Temple against the door frame, and grazed beneath his jaw with his knuckles. "Wanna make out?"
-
Sweet gods, yes.
Temple must have had stars in his eyes as he gazed up at Cyrus just then. To have Cyrus crowding in front of him and his back against the wall. To be trapped there by Cyrus's body and hear those words...
He took a shaky breath and managed to break the spell. Mostly. "You'd..." Why did his voice sound so small? "You'd regret it when you sober up."
-
Cyrus rolled his eyes--and the room spun even after he was done, making him sway. He caught Temple's shoulder to steady himself, and brought his eyes back to his face.
"Ain't regrettin' it now," he said, and leaned in to feather kisses along the side of Temple's neck, moving upward toward his jaw, driven on by thoughts of how he'd been dancing with those slobbery losers. Fuck. Temple could do better than that, better than some desperate bozos that just wanted to fuck him in a sleazy back room and ditch him for the next pretty young thing, and the thought of those men pawing at him only made him press closer to the guy.
-
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Temple managed to hold back even with Cyrus's lips trailing kisses along his neck. He turned his head reflexively, giving Cyrus better access and arching into his touch, but he bit his lip and kept his hands stiff at his sides, hands that wanted to pull Cyrus closer.
But he couldn't hold back when Cyrus pressed his body flush against Temple's. A moan broke from his mouth and his hands rose to clutch Cyrus's shoulders.
This was it, though. Any further and he wouldn't have the mental bandwidth to put a stop to this. It had to be now or never.
He slid sideways, out from between the wall and Cyrus, and snagged Cyrus's sleeve to pull him toward the hall. "You can't even stand up straight. Why don't you go sleep it off? Alone."
-
"My bed's big," Cyrus said as he stumbled along behind Temple. "There's room enough for two."
-
"I know," Temple said.
I used to sleep in it with you. But that was over and when Cyrus woke up, it wouldn't be with the mortification of knowing he'd done something drunk he would never do sober.
He propelled Cyrus in front of him and gave his back a gentle push toward the bedroom.
-
Cyrus made it to his bed, and turned back to lift his shoulders in a small shrug. "Well, if ya change your mind..." he said simply, before he trudged back to his bed and flopped down onto it.
Because horny and ready to go or not, he was drunk off his ass and fucking exhausted.
-
His mind had never changed. He'd always wanted that with Cyrus. Just...not like this.
But it was over and they could finally both collapse and deal with it in the morning. Temple went to the effort of cleaning away the eye make up and that was about all he had in him. He curled up on the couch still in his club clothes and fell unconscious just about instantly.
When he woke up, Teinar's artificial lights remained off. It was still the middle of the night, and everything inside and outside the house was all darkness. How long 'til Teinari morning? One hour? Two, maybe?
It was the need for the bathroom that woke him, so he made his slow way through the dark house. He managed to find the bathroom, and only turned the light on after he closed the door, so he didn't disturb Cyrus at all.
Coming out, he did the same, and had to stand in the pitch black hallway for a minute while his eyes adjusted again.
-
Cyrus also woke up right about then, but it was for a completely different reason.
Temple was still in the hallway when he lurched out of bed, stumbled out the door, and pushed past Temple (Temple? What the hell was he doing out at this time?) so he could collapse on his knees in the bathroom.
And worship the porcelain god.
Yeah. His head was hurting something fierce, and apparently mixing alcohols on an empty stomach hadn't been the wisest idea.
-
Something loomed out of the darkness and came right at him, and Temple had a moment of alarm before he realized, duh, it was obviously just Cyrus.
Cyrus, who from the sound of it was having a hell of a time of it back there.
Temple wound his way into the kitchen and poured one big glass of water for the guy. He didn't want to turn the bright bathroom light on, so he flipped on a lantern flashlight and set it to rest at the end of the hall, letting its gentle light filter down toward the bathroom.
He set the glass of water down near Cyrus with a soft chank.
-
Cyrus was just about done with the worst of his fit when a soft clink got his attention. He sucked in a breath, willed his stomach to stop doing its thing, wiped his mouth off on a piece of toilet paper, and turned his head--slowly!--to look at what it was.
A glass of water and Temple, is what it was.
He swallowed, his mouth still all watery with the urge to purge even though there was literally nothing left, and grabbed up the glass shakily. "Ugh...thanks."
-
"Sure." He rubbed Cyrus's back and just hoped that wouldn't induce a bad reaction like the kiss on the cheek had. "Need anything else?"
-
"Uh...probably bread or some shit to soak it up," Cyrus answered, and rubbed at his head with a groan. "Ugh. Maybe I shoulda let ya cut me off."
-
"Maybe I should have just taken it away from you," Temple said. "Be right back."
He put Cyrus's toothbrush and toothpaste within reach first. When he returned, it was with two pieces of plain toast on a plate. "Any better, yet?"
-
Cyrus brushed the hell out of his teeth and tongue, several times, by the time Temple returned. Still couldn't quite get rid of the foul taste, but it was leagues better than it was before. Wouldn't be doing any kissing anytime soon, that was for sure.
When Temple returned, he was still sitting on the floor, but he wasn't looking quite so green. He accepted the plate and though his stomach roiled at the sight and smell of food of any sort, he took a bite out of a slice anyway.
"Better," he said, and swallowed his bite down. "Less like my head's bein' crushed beneath a truck, more like...a vice."
-
Temple sat down next to Cyrus. He nearly sat crosslegged but remembered he was still in a skirt and folded his legs to the side instead.
Tentatively, with one hand, he sank his hand through Cyrus's hair and gently massaged his scalp with his fingertips. "Good?"
-
"Uh...yeah..."
Cyrus went still as Temple's fingers found his scalp, the first threads of awkwardness weaving their way through the hangover haze. Because he hadn't been too drunk, not by any means, to forget what had happened. Oh, he remembered it all with crystal clarity, and soon the awkwardness began to turn to budding horror at what he'd done.
The scalp massage felt wonderful, and he was struck with a sinking, twisting feeling in the pit of his gut at just how...how kind Temple was being.
And what a fucking asshole he'd been.
"Uh...Temple...'bout earlier..."
-
Temple shifted so he could add his other hand. He massaged Cyrus's scalp in slow, gentle circles with the pads of his fingers.
"Yeah?" He'd been speaking softly this whole time. Something about the darkness and the nighttime made him want to keep his voice low.
And now? Now Cyrus would tell him he hadn't meant anything he'd said last night, and how it was only because he'd been drunk, and Temple would have to tell him that they'd just have to be more careful from now on because he couldn't deal with coming that close with Cyrus again. He couldn't deal with it knowing it would never happen sober. He didn't want to be Cyrus's exclusively drunk hook up.
-
Cyrus took a deep breath and stared down at the floor. How did he put this? Guess there was no right way but to charge straight ahead and say it the only way he knew how.
"I'm, ah...I'm really fuckin' sorry," he said, and took another deep breath, half because he was still nauseated and half to steel himself. "'Bout what I did. I, uh...I didn't...I was a fuckin' asshole, alright? I didn't...mean to like...force myself on ya or...yeah..."
-
Temple's insides performed an unpleasant sinking sensation at hearing the guilt in Cyrus's voice.
"You didn't!" He hands left Cyrus's head as he sought the man's eyes. "Don't worry about that, you didn't try to force yourself on me at all. You made a pass at me, that's it."
Gods, Cyrus was remembering a very different interaction than Temple was.
-
"I grabbed ya. I kissed ya and trapped ya against a wall and..." Cyrus passed a hand over his eyes. "I didn't...I didn't know I'd get that outta hand."
-
Yeah...yeah that had happened. Trouble was, Cyrus had no way of knowing just how badly Temple wanted those things.
"But I liked it!" He gave Cyrus's shoulder a shake, trying to draw him out from shrinking into himself more. "I wanted you to kiss me and I wanted to keep going. I only stopped because you were too drunk to realize what you were doing."
-
Cyrus jerked his head back up and looked at Temple in surprise. "...What?"
-
Temple's head tilted in his attempt to understand. "What?"
-
"...Ya wanted that?"
-
Temple's bark of laughter was incredulous. "Did the moaning not give me away?"
-
Cyrus's face flushed red. "...Coulda been a groan."
-
"...It wasn't, though."
Where they actually having this conversation?
-
"Oh. Uh..."
Cyrus passed a hand through his hair and sucked in another breath, looking away again. "I knew what the fuck I was doin'."
-
Temple scoffed. His hands returned to Cyrus's head and he took up massaging him again.
"I'm not sure I believe you. You couldn't even stand up straight without swaying back and forth."
-
"I was drunk, not blackout drunk," Cyrus muttered, closing his eyes and just...letting this happen for now. It felt nice, and with his head aching as it was, he was in no position to complain and had no willpower to stop i.
-
Which didn't change that Temple had done the right thing in refusing him. Nearly-falling-over-drunk wasn't any better than blackout drunk to Temple's mind. But he let Cyrus have this one.
"Fine," he said, fingertips kneading Cyrus's head. "You knew what you were doing."
-
"That's why I'm apologizin'. Get it?" Cyrus said, glancing back over at him. "I didn't wanna like...take advantage."
-
Temple was about to get exasperated, but he had to remind himself that Cyrus was hungover and aching and anxious. So maybe reassurance instead of snark, just this once.
"You weren't," he said, hands dipping downward to massage the base of Cyrus's skull. "It was hard to tell you no."
-
Awkward silence followed that statement, as it slowly began to register that Temple...wanted him.
He was...probably way too hungover for this.
"...Really?"
-
Temple allowed a sigh to escape. "Yes."
-
Still utterly boggled, Cyrus looked away again and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "...Never kissed a dude before."
-
Temple urged Cyrus around a bit, so he could get at his shoulders. "First time for everything."
-
"Wasn't much different from kissin' a lady," Cyrus continued, still perplexedly musing out loud and closing his eyes as Temple got at his shoulders.
-
It was a good thing Cyrus couldn't see Temple's smirk. Might have ruined the moment.
He kneaded Cyrus's shoulders, enjoying the feel of Cyrus's body beneath his moving hands. "I am a bit on the feminine side."
-
"Uh, yeah..." Cyrus said, and glanced down at Temple's smooth, long legs as he said it.
-
Temple gave Cyrus's shoulders a final pat. "Better now? Ready to try and sleep again?"
-
"I think that'd probably be wise," Cyrus said as he lifted his eyes away, because he was starting to think that he might still be drunk enough to want to kiss the guy again.
Except that would be horrible, because he still had puke breath.
-
Temple rose first, incidentally putting Cyrus at eye level with his hips, and offered a hand up.
-
And, naturally, Cyrus stared at said hips and shapely thighs before he shifted his eyes away. He clasped Temple's hand and hauled himself up, then gripped his shoulder to keep himself steady. The world was no longer spinning, but now he just felt weak and ill from emptying his stomach into the toilet and fighting off a headache.
"I know I already said it once or so but again, uh...thanks."
-
"Anytime."
And as before, he encouraged Cyrus toward his bedroom via a hand on his back.
After so long in the handcuffs, it felt off not follow him in there and get into bed beside him.
-
Once again, Cyrus trudged into his room and sank into his bed--and this time, when he curled up, he felt the empty space in his bed in a strange way he hadn't before.
But he ignored it, closed his eyes, and let himself drift, even if it took a while with his head pounding as it was. But when he passed out that time, he passed out hard, and wouldn't wake again until noon, unless woken up by someone or something else.
-
Temple was up way before Cyrus, having actually not drank much at all at the club.
He made food for himself and made sure to keep some coffee hot for whenever Cyrus decided to rouse. Other than that, he spent his time ordering a few clothes online. Nothing fancy or expensive, just y'know...some skirts he thought Cyrus might like to see him in.
-
Cyrus felt like the walking dead when he shuffled out of his room and into the kitchen.
He glimpsed Temple using his computer and gave him a brief "good morning" nod before he made his way to the coffee machine, poured himself a cup. He took it black and chugged it down, and already the caffeine started to help take some of the edge off.
"Whatcha doin'?" he asked, leaning against the counter and nursing his cup.
-
"Just ordering some clothes," he said, and left it at that. Oh, he'd tell Cyrus what he ordered if the guy asked. But if he didn't ask then Temple was prepared to go ahead and let it be a surprise.
"Want breakfast?"
-
Cyrus grunted at that and took another gulp of coffee.
"Ya offerin' to make it?"
-
"That's the idea," he said. Now that he knew this, them, was in the realm of possibility, doing things for Cyrus gratified him in a whole new way.
-
"Then shit yeah, I want breakfast," Cyrus said with a snort. "I feel like I could eat my whole goddamned kitchen."
-
"Coming right up, then."
Temple couldn't make a lot, and he couldn't make anything fancy, but he was decent at the basic things he knew, so what Cyrus ended up with was a plate of serviceable breakfast food, but a whole lot of it.
"Enjoy," Temple said, and just to see if things really were different he gave Cyrus's shoulder a squeeze and let his hand trail off down the man's arm as he walked away.
-
With breakfast done, Cyrus plopped down at the table and stared at the bounty before him which was...pretty damned impressive, considering the limited ingredients in his kitchen. Damn. Temple wasn't to shabby at this, and while his stomach had been rumbling something fierce while Temple had been cooking, it was aching with hunger by the time he was done.
"You're not gonna have some?" he asked as Temple began to head away, a small shiver going down his arm clear to his fingertips at that...caress? But he ignored it. Had to have just been a casual, friendly gesture or something.
-
"I ate while you slept off your hangover," he said, but Temple didn't go far. He shut the laptop down, then joined Cyrus at the table with his own cup of coffee. Not black. He took his full of sugar and milk.
-
"Ah. Well, if ya want more, looks like there's plenty. Don't think even I'll be able to finish all this," Cyrus said, and washed down another bite with a swig of coffee.
Glancing over at Temple, he peered into his cup, and snorted. "Want some coffee with your cream? Goddamn. Why don'tcha just drink milk?"
-
"Who says I don't?"
Since Cyrus had offered, Temple took him up on it. He grabbed a fork, sat next to Cyrus, and plucked a bite right off his plate. "Back out into the subterrain tomorrow?"
They'd both of them had to take a leave of absence from their duties on account of their...situation.
-
"Back out to the subterrain," Cyrus said between another mouthful. "Think we can get through it without another incident this time, eh?"
-
"Or at least a smaller incident? A more easily managed incident?"
-
"An incident that doesn't end up in me handcuffed to ya?"
-
"I wouldn't mind you handcuffing me."
-
"Uhh...what?"
-
Temple raised his brows at him, like he couldn't imagine what the problem might be. "What?"
-
"Er...never mind." Cyrus cleared his throat and shoved another bits into his mouth. "Point is, no shenanigans."
-
Temple suppressed a sigh. It was like their conversation last night hadn't happened at all.
"No shenanigans." He gave a nod.
-
"Ya follow me and go where I say and don't go runnin' off," Cyrus said, looking over at Temple. "I ain't gonna have ya gettin' hurt on my watch."
-
"I know, I know." He'd heard the whole speech a couple times now. It didn't exactly annoy him to hear it again, though. It was just Cyrus being Cyrus.
"I promise you," he said, looking Cyrus in the eye so he knew he was taking this seriously, "that I will cleave to your side and heed every word. Okay?"
-
Convinced enough, Cyrus dropped his eyes back down to his food with a nod. "Good enough for me," he said, and finished off a good portion of his plate before he had to call it quits.
He'd been way hungrier than he thought; there was only about a fourth left on his plate.
Leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his full belly, he let out a satisfied sigh. "I should let ya cook more often."
-
"I can do that," Temple said, dragging the plate over to himself so he could finish it all off.
-
With that all taken care of, Cyrus pushed himself to his feet. "So, we've got the day to ourselves now to do whatever. Any ideas as to how ya wanna spend it?"
-
Temple drummed his fingers on the table, trying to decide just how forward he wanted to be.
Pretty damn forward, he decided. "We could try the making out you wanted to do last night."
-
Cyrus choked on another sip of coffee, and only by the grace of the gods did he manage not to spray it.
He sputtered, pounded on his chest, and wiped at his lips where some of the coffee had started to leak out.
"Oh fuck, I said that, didn't I?"
-
"Right before you started kissing my neck, yeah," Temple said.
And, just so there was zero confusion here. "Which I wouldn't mind again, by the way."
-
"...I'm gonna go shower see ya!" Cyrus blurted out before Temple had even finished that sentence, and he was off down the hall without another word.
-
He'd either scared Cyrus off the idea completely, or managed to entice him even more. Frankly, he didn't care which just then. He was just happy to be done with all the subtlety and guess work. Cyrus knew exactly where he stood, now.
It all depended on what Cyrus intended to do about it.
While Cyrus showered, Temple made himself useful and got their travel packs out of the closet and emptied out.
-
Cyrus didn't step out of the bathroom until he was showered and fully clothed--and it had, admittedly, been a rather cool shower, at that.
He still had his towel wrapped around his shoulders to catch the dripping of his hair. "Need the shower?" he asked. "Cold one might do ya some good."
-
"I bet it will," Temple muttered.
He stopped on his way there, turned back around to say one last thing. He was on a roll with this stark honesty business. Why stop now?
"Just so there's no more confusion," he said, "you should know you can have me anytime and any way you want me."
Then he disappeared into the bathroom.
-
Cyrus shielded his eyes with a hand and ducked his head so Temple couldn't see his face, biting back a loud groan because...he honestly had no good response to that.
Was...was he serious?
He couldn't be.
No. No, he probably totally was.
Head still reeling, and not from the hangover, Cyrus trudged over to the living room, sank into a chair, and flipped the TV on to the news because he needed something nice and mundane in his life after that.
-
Temple emerged not long after, damp hair clinging to his face, and joined Cyrus in the living room.
"Anything that affects us?" He nodded at the news program.
He'd keep things friendly from here out, unless Cyrus gave him reason to believe the man still was not getting it. He'd said what he needed to say. It was all on Cyrus now.
-
Truth be told, Cyrus hadn't really been paying attention to the news program. His mind had been elsewhere, struggling to process what had just happened, and what was continuing to happen, and what it meant and how he felt. And so far, he was coming up with a big, fat blank.
He jolted from his thoughts at Temple's voice, snapping a look up at him, all wet and glistening from his shower. "Huh? Oh, uh..." He flicked his gaze back to the TV. "No, not really. Nothin' really interestin' right now."
-
"Mm," Temple said, losing interest in the subject then. He returned to their packs and the organized arrangement of supplies around them. He'd taken everything out and laid it all where he could see every bit, just as Cyrus had taught him. Now they could see what they had and what they needed.
-
Glancing over at what Temple was working on, Cyrus decided now was a good time to quiz him. So far, he was on the right track; it'd be good to see if he could finish the job.
He nodded to the supplies. "What're we missin'?"
-
"Uh..." A lot of the most obvious stuff jumped out at him, which was at least progress. He'd still miss things, because he always did.
"More water tablets," he said, ticking things off on his fingers as he said them. "The clothes, obviously. The new map update, batteries, fresh survey markers...uhh..."
He was running out of the easy stuff and having to really wrack his brain, now.
-
Cyrus nodded along as Temple listed off items. "Ya almost got it all. Just a couple more left. Think ya got it?"
-
"Um...oh, well the rations, duh. And...uh, ammo?"
-
With a wide grin, Cyrus reached over and gave him a congratulatory slap on the back. "Good job! Soon enough, you're not even gonna need me for this."
-
It felt good to get something right for once. He was not picking up this subterrain survival business with a whole lot of ease. He was getting it, it just was taking a lot of effort for a thing that came to Cyrus so easily.
"All right, well...guess I'll get started."
A lot of it he could gather on his own, from their own supplies here. Some of it only Cyrus would have access to.
-
"Do whatcha can," Cyrus said, with another pat to Temple's shoulder. "I'll finish off the rest."
-
Temple was confident enough to gather what they needed, but not to pack it away. Packing was so damn particular. Everything had to be arranged just so for maximum space and most balanced weight distribution.
So when Cyrus returned later that day with the rest of it, Temple had his bit all laid out around the packs and ready for Cyrus's inspection.
-
When Cyrus returned with the rest of what they needed, he couldn't help but crack a small grin at Temple's work. He'd finished up...kind of. Everything they needed was there. That was fine. But he hadn't put anything away, or even begun to.
Slinging down his bag of junk, Cyrus gave an obvious look down at the supplies, then looked back at Temple with a raised eyebrow. "Well?"
-
Temple scratched his head. Part of him feared another of Cyrus's lectures on how he wasn't picking this up fast enough. Another part of him was just resigned to it at this point.
"Uh...I'm not actually a hundred percent on where to start here..."
-
Well. At least the kid had gotten somewhere. Farther than last time, in any case!
"That's alright," Cyrus said, surprisingly patient---because he did have patience! Just no patience for stupidity. But this wasn't stupidity, this was learning. Couldn't expect a city slicker to pick this up overnight.
He took a seat on the flood across from Temple and started taking out his supplies and laying them out on the floor for easy eyeballing.
"It's kinda like piecin' together a puzzle, makin' everything fit without squishin' it," he said. "You'll also wanna put the stuff you'll need most on top, so ya can grab it easier. Stuff for makin' camp, for example, can go on the bottom since ya won't need any of that shit 'til we're at a stoppin' point and can dig around. So go on, give it a shot. I'll give ya a hint--the way I taught ya to lay things out? It's in the order of how shit should be packed."