sleepytimejunction | ⚘ two giant handsome men

⚘ two giant handsome men

[The greenhouse is one of the few spots that Dedue feels comfortable enough in. He's given plenty of space usually by other students and staff, so he has little to be concerned for as he tends to the plants. That being said, he's also quite used to people hovering, whether being wary of him or being curious. Neither really matters as Dedue minds his business and continues to work.

It's not often that Balthus is out of Abyss, though.

For several minutes, he is quiet, disposing of weeds into a basket before he's watering some of the plants. Some are left alone as they don't need as much attention.

Eventually, he finally addresses Balthus.]

What is it?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ah. That would explain quite a bit as to why Balthus also detests gardening. It doesn't feel like they have anything in common at all, but that doesn't make this unpleasant. Only that Dedue evidently struggles to talk about anything remotely uplifting, apparently.]

Understood.

[He goes to pay attention to the contents of his tankard, to finish it off. It makes him think faintly of the meads that they would brew in Duscur. Nothing is ever really close, but it's a nice memory.]

I don't like cheese.

[As if that's any consolation. Or related.]

No cheese? Huh. How come?

[Dedue's so strange; it's like nothing in the world can get the man to lighten up and relax. Only he is relaxing, sort of; you just have to know where to look to see it. He says things like "understood" and goes quiet without elaboration, but then he finishes his ale and smiles at the mug and commentates on his food preferences.

A very strange guy. Kind of like a nut Balthus is having an interesting time cracking open.]

Too fancy for you or something?

No particular reason, I suppose. I don't find it enjoyable in any way it is presented to me. Perhaps it's just a different in preferences based on where I am from.

[He shrugs and folds his hands into his lap.]

Much in the way some people don't enjoy their vegetables no matter how it is made. No real reason.

[mentally pointing at you lysithea eat your fucking vegetables]

Not a lot of cheese in Duscur cuisine, then, I'm guessing.

[It's a test, really. A shot at seeing if he can get Dedue to volunteer information again. He liked talking about plants, before, and food seems to interest him even a little; maybe pressing on that more will get him to loosen up further still.]

What's it usually like?

[Ashe had asked him something similar before. Dedue hesitates again; he's used to restricting so much of himself, burying anything of his culture and swallowing down all of his emotions.

He's quiet, uncertain of how wise this conversation is. Perhaps less dangerous than to speak of it on the surface, but... still.]

...There are more spices and herbs, usually. Finding game was difficult during colder months, so we relied on fish for the meat. Many of our stews would have peppers.

Aw, no kidding? That sounds great. I mean, I bet if anybody could make a fish taste good, it's you.

[But he senses that hesitation, there, and he's not oblivious to it.]

It's nice to learn a little more about you, pal. You're an interesting guy.

[There's a soft sigh, and Dedue closes his eyes.]

I don't understand that. I am not skilled in conversation. I am not particularly jovial. Many of the topics I have mentioned are mostly dour.

Yet, you do not seem to mind.

Well, let me put it this way. You've got nothing on Constance when she wanders out into the sun by mistake, when it comes to dour and not jovial. That poor kid.

Anyway, I'll concede you're not really easy to get talking. But you're not all doom and gloom when the topic's something you like. You were happy telling me all about your flowers, and I'm betting you'd be just as happy telling me about your favorite recipes, too, if I nagged a little harder to get you started.

Doesn't it bother you...? Keeping all that held back all the time?

[Well. That is a fair point. He has not spoken to Constance much, but he has heard of how different her personality is in the sun. Trauma can certainly cause some torturous conditions.

But Balthus seems to understand how restrained Dedue is. It's... unusual, having someone who isn't Dimitri comprehend him like this. He feels strangely vulnerable. He's relieved, but he's also tense about it. It's a difficult corner to be in, and he doesn't quite know what to do with it.]

Yes. Though I have little choice about it.

The majority of Fodlan despise those of Duscur. They are disgusted by me. To react or even speak of my culture would form seeds of discontent. And I could not afford any slight toward His Highness, either.

[Expressing anything -- discomfort, irritation, anger, grief -- it would be a setback. But he learned quickly that he had to hold back. For Dimitri, and also for his own people.]

...You know, my friend Hapi, she's in the same kind of predicament. For her, it's that losing control is dangerous. She could get a lot of people hurt if she gets careless for even just a minute.

But that's no way to live. Never able to relax. Never able to let your guard down.

[He closes his eyes a minute, then reopens them and looks at Dedue more searchingly.]

There's a lot of quiet places in Abyss. No eyes or ears. And it's not like we take tickets at the door or keep a fancy roll call.

It'd be easier to keep up the act upstairs if you let yourself breathe once in a while.

[A contemplative look is on Dedue's face, his brows knitted as he thinks to himself about the offer. It is a dangerous temptation, but he's felt as though he's had to stifle parts of himself for awhile now.]

You are deceivingly observant. And you care immensely for your friends.

[It'd be easy to just pass off Balthus as some kind of meathead and leave it at that, but he's observant of people. And that is an important skill to have.]

I will remember your suggestion.

Sure helps when the thing I'm observing's awful nice to look at.

[He grins, and turns back to the bartender to wave him over again, flashing a clearly practiced signal for another two beers.]

Hey! Look alive over there! We're thirsty, so how about another round?

[There was the wink. And now Balthus has all but complimented his appearance.

...He really doesn't want to overthink this. He is probably overthinking this. He clears his throat, uncertain.]

Yes. Another drink. Thank you.

[Another round of beers quickly makes its way to the table, and so the night continues to stretch on, Balthus contributing the majority of the chatter, but still nudging Dedue into participating where he can help it — which gets at least marginally easier the more they've both had to drink, thankfully enough.

But eventually, the hour grows late, and they both have classes the next day, so Balthus squares up the tab (leaving the barkeep of the Wilted Rose pleased and relieved that the Exalted King of Grappling has actually forked over some real hard coin for once) and then beckons to Dedue, clearly intending without actually saying anything to walk with him back to the Blue Lions dorms.]

So? What'd you think of our cozy little establishment? Next time, come hungry. Maybe we'll even have something worthwhile on the menu when you do.

[He feels warm in a multitude of ways, from drink to company. Though Dedue doesn't speak much, he does progressively become a bit more comfortable. He even manages to lean back in his rickety chair instead of sitting up completely straight.

Ah, and now he's being walked back. It's unnecessary, but kind.]

Perhaps. But also, perhaps I might like to make you something as well.

...This was nice. You are nice.

Oh, yeah? You'd cook for me, huh? And you say I'm nice.

[He's far from drunk; a couple of beers aren't nearly enough to leave him inebriated. Still, it's a pleasant buzz and a warm glow that clings to him, leaving him in high spirits and feeling a little lighter than usual as they make their way back.]

What've you got in mind? Fish?

I enjoy cooking.

[There's the faintest hint of a smile on Dedue's face. This is probably the nicest he's felt in awhile, honestly.]

No. Not at first. You hate fish. I think I could make it well for you, but I would do something else first.

Ah, meat, then. Well, that's what I'm talking about!

[With a laugh, he slings his arm around Dedue's shoulders; with just two inches of height difference between them, he barely has to reach up to do it.]

All right, you name it, then. And if I bag it the next time I'm out hunting, I'll bring some back to you, too.

Anything you can get your hands on. Red meat would work better, but I should be able to work with what you manage to get.

[Ah. This is very friendly, but Dedue doesn't feel uncomfortable. Instead, he leans a bit into the contact.]

I liked this.

Haha, all right. Red meat it is.

[...Ah. You know, that might just be the boldest that his pal Dedue has gotten all night, relaxing enough to actually gravitate into the arm around his shoulders, instead of tensing up or shrugging away.

Hmmm.]

Hey, I'm not quite done with you yet. You know how an evening like this usually wraps up, right?

Hm?

[This is pleasant. It's very warm, and... truly, he can't remember the last time he's had such an amicable contact like this.]

And how does it normally go?

Mm. With me kissing you.

[He says it lightly, without pressure.]

I will, y'know. If you want me to.

[Slowly, he processes the idea in his head. Though he isn't drunk, he's still a bit sluggish. He frowns a little.]

Do you want to?

[He knows how nice Balthus has been. The signs. But he's still a bit unsure.]

It's half the reason I decided to walk you home, pal. Thinking I might get away with it.

[He grins; it's a little crooked, the way his smiles always are, but earnest and genuine.]

The other half is just sentimentality. Making sure you got back all right.

Ah.

[There's a part of him that's still perplexed by this. There were brief moments with curious maids, but that was the end of it: their curiosity, the dares between them. This is extremely different.

So, the closer they get to his room, Dedue stops suddenly and makes a choice for himself. He pulls away from Balthus' arm, only to grab for the lapel of his coat in order to kiss him.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject