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"You know I'm not going to make fun of you if you need a fork, right?" He chuckles, but looks up from the plate to Keith's face. "Go ahead and ask. Anything, I'm an open book."
"No, I'm gonna get this. Maybe." And if not, he can at least say he tried, right? But first, he's going to ask his question. "How do you know if you like someone, or if you like, like someone? I've never really thought about it at home because there were so many other things going on, but now I don't have anything but time to think and I can't figure it out. Where's the line between them and what's the difference?"
He'd asked Pidge, but she hadn't given him much by way of an answer, and he wasn't going to go into more detail to try and explain it because she'd seemed disinterested. So instead he'll ask the one who made him question it in the first place.
Bash is polite enough not to laugh. But the question's definitely a whole thing, isn't it?
"Who's to say there is a hard line like that in the first place? Like...Vrenille's given me shit about it before, how easily I fall for people. I think he thinks I'm a little naive and soft. Maybe I am."
He offers Keith another bit of sweet and sour chicken as he tries to put everything into words. "Do they make you feel warm and fluttery? Do they make you feel comfortable and safe? When you go to bed at night, do you think about how your day was better because you got some time with them? Would it kind of wreck you, if they disappeared?"
"Vrenille's..." Ooh, chicken. Hang on while he takes that piece. "Vrenille's Vrenille."
And what does that mean? Who knows. It makes sense to him, because that's one guy who's like nothing he's ever run into before, and whether it's a good or bad thing, he's not entirely sure. But the rest of what Bash says makes him stop, actually thinking on it, and unsure how to take it. "Maybe? Why? What does it mean?" Because he's guilty of all of the above.
"If you feel like that about someone, that's not just liking them, or even liking them. That's love. And whoever you feel that way about is damned lucky."
"What?" The chopsticks slip from his fingers, one clattering to the plate, the other bouncing to the floor. That can't be right. There's no way it's right! There's gotta be a loophole or something. Or maybe he means familial? "I'm not-- I..."
He's only ever said it to Shiro and his dad, and they were family! At the same time though, he's never actually been in love before to know the difference. Or maybe he has and there isn't a difference at all and he's just deluded himself into thinking there was to make it easy for him to pick apart.
But whether it's right or not, there's one thing he can't argue. Lowering his head to stare blankly at the plate in front of him, his voice drops to little more than a squeak. "It's you."
"Good. Because I love you, too. Shit, Keith, I don't just offer contracts to anyone. Only people I want in my home, as well as my bed. I want to see what you look like waking up with bedhead. I want to take care of you when you've got a cold. I want to just lay around with you on the weekends when I've got nowhere else to be."
He's quiet, stunned speechless at the words. Shiro had told him he'd wanted to help him, that he wasn't going to give up on him, had given him a chance to start over, but compared to this, it's nowhere close to the same. These are things he'd never really considered for himself or thought anyone would really want with someone as damaged as he is, and yet here's Bash blowing it completely out of the water.
Part of him wants to cry. Part of him wants to scream. Something, anything to let out every pent up emotion, all of the uncertainty, all of the stress and confusion, because this is a thing he has to face and he's woefully unprepared. He'd been driving himself crazy trying to figure out where the line was, how one could tell the difference and if there was a difference. He'd wanted so badly to avoid getting attached because he didn't want to open himself up to getting hurt, but in doing that, he'd gone ahead and gotten attached anyway.
"I'm not gonna cry." The words, mumbled through clenched teeth, are more said for himself than to Bash, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm not. I-- fuck." This isn't like him... but he hasn't heard those words directed at him since his dad died, and this is the first time they've ever been in this context.
Bash stands up, walking around the table to drape himself over Keith from behind, chin on his shoulder, arms loosely around him. "It's okay, if you want to cry. I'm sorry, didn't mean to get so heavy with everything."
Except he doesn't regret doing so. He doesn't hate that he's finally laid his cards on the table. Oh look, a royal flush--hearts, of course.
Comforting. Safe. If he'd been Lance, he'd have run for the hills because 'safe and warm' meant crazy mermaids and mind-swishing, but he's not Lance by any stretch, and Bash isn't a crazy mermaid. "I'm okay..." It's just a lot to take in all at once.
Giving himself a chance to breathe and leaning into the loose embrace, Keith takes a slow, deep breath to steady himself before trying this again, the words heavy and unfamiliar on his tongue. Even if he ends up getting hurt eventually, even if it turns out he jumped in too quickly and way over his head, he'll deal with it later. For now, he's grabbing hold of whatever this is and running with it. "I love you."
"And I love you, too. And that doesn't mean you have to contract with me, but now you have the full picture of why I made the offer. Take your time, think it all over." Bash tilts his head, kissing Keith on the cheek. "I'm not gonna rush you into anything."
"I know." Lifting a hand to reach back behind him, Keith's fingers go straight for that low ponytail, twirling the long strands. "But there's a lot to think about and I need to make sure I'm doing what's best for me."
Or at least consider whether or not having to deal with him all the time would make them not want to be around him. If nothing else, Keith knows he can be a handful at times. "If we did, what would go in it?" He knows there isn't much he'd ask for, but he's not the only one involved.
"That depends on what you want and need. I mean the obvious things: you can work, you can spend money without asking, you can travel between the Up and Down, that's all already guaranteed. I'd want you to let me know if you're having quota problems in a given month, so I can help you out. The rest, that's all blank canvas. Jeff, he knows he's got some accountability issues, so my contract with him includes him eating at least two meals a day with a carb and a protein, and getting six hours of sleep a night. He asked me for that, so I could ride his ass if he needed it."
And he's still having some trouble, but Jeff and Bash are working that out.
Tilting his head so that he can better see him in their current position, Keith raises an eyebrow. "That's all I'd ask for, really. I don't bring people home with me, so you wouldn't have to worry about that, either. I mean, I lost my virginity to some random guy in a bar here. I'm not taking someone like that home. That's... probably the extent of my standards though."
Actually, he limits himself as far as that's concerned to Bash, Vrenille, and said bar that Vrenille had taken him to as an introduction to sex when he'd first arrived, though namely because the drinks aren't bad and it's a help to desensitize him to being around others going at it -it's not often that he engages in anything himself, but in the event he waits too long on quota, it's good for a last-minute romp.
Bash pulls Keith's chair out and sits on his lap--facing him, straddling his legs. Surprise, Keith, lapful of lanky Dominant. At least he's not too heavy.
"Virginity's a weird fucking concept anyway. But yeah, I think a contract would be pretty simple. Like. Not in the contract, but I'd wanna know if you're staying out late so I know if I oughta wait up. Or if anything's going on you need help with."
"I've never really understood the big deal people make of it. Life's full of firsts anyway, so what makes that one any more special?"
Keith's hands slide up Bash's thighs to settle at his waist, arms looped loosely around him as he tilts his chin up to meet his eye. "And lucky for you, I don't usually stay out late here unless it's something important, and I haven't gotten myself into any trouble yet. However I do think I probably need a fork."
“I could get you a fork, but that’d mean standing. Want me to just feed you the rest of the lo mein, instead?” After all, he’s comfy right here, warm and close, settled on Keith’s lap.
Oh. Okay, that is a good point he has there, and this is actually comfortable so Keith's in no hurry to dislodge him from his perch. His tone is light and teasing, "Is this your way of making sure I eat?"
Bash turns to grab the lo mein container and his chopsticks, grinning. "It's working, isn't it? And besides, I like sitting here--it means I can look into your eyes even closer. I like that."
He can feel his face heating up in response to those words, and his arms tighten just a little around Bash's waist, pulling him just that little bit more. "It's working."
If this is what it's like to be in love, then he's okay with this. Completely okay with it.
"Probably, yeah. What's on your mind?" He's not going to promise without hearing what it is, but Keith's got a very good chance of getting anything he asks for in this moment. Bash is completely lost in the sauce.
"You." Hey, it's the truth. "This." Not that any of that gives indication to what he's asking about. And he knows that what he's intending to ask is a lot, but at the same time, it's something stupid. "Please don't change." Is it in reference to his personality? Attitude? How he acts? Nope, not at all -it's the facial hair and ponytail, okay. "At least... not too much."
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dispersing) wrote2021-09-24 11:51 am
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He'd asked Pidge, but she hadn't given him much by way of an answer, and he wasn't going to go into more detail to try and explain it because she'd seemed disinterested. So instead he'll ask the one who made him question it in the first place.
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"Who's to say there is a hard line like that in the first place? Like...Vrenille's given me shit about it before, how easily I fall for people. I think he thinks I'm a little naive and soft. Maybe I am."
He offers Keith another bit of sweet and sour chicken as he tries to put everything into words. "Do they make you feel warm and fluttery? Do they make you feel comfortable and safe? When you go to bed at night, do you think about how your day was better because you got some time with them? Would it kind of wreck you, if they disappeared?"
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And what does that mean? Who knows. It makes sense to him, because that's one guy who's like nothing he's ever run into before, and whether it's a good or bad thing, he's not entirely sure. But the rest of what Bash says makes him stop, actually thinking on it, and unsure how to take it. "Maybe? Why? What does it mean?" Because he's guilty of all of the above.
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"If you feel like that about someone, that's not just liking them, or even liking them. That's love. And whoever you feel that way about is damned lucky."
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He's only ever said it to Shiro and his dad, and they were family! At the same time though, he's never actually been in love before to know the difference. Or maybe he has and there isn't a difference at all and he's just deluded himself into thinking there was to make it easy for him to pick apart.
But whether it's right or not, there's one thing he can't argue. Lowering his head to stare blankly at the plate in front of him, his voice drops to little more than a squeak. "It's you."
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He pauses, smiling easily. "Because I love you."
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Part of him wants to cry. Part of him wants to scream. Something, anything to let out every pent up emotion, all of the uncertainty, all of the stress and confusion, because this is a thing he has to face and he's woefully unprepared. He'd been driving himself crazy trying to figure out where the line was, how one could tell the difference and if there was a difference. He'd wanted so badly to avoid getting attached because he didn't want to open himself up to getting hurt, but in doing that, he'd gone ahead and gotten attached anyway.
"I'm not gonna cry." The words, mumbled through clenched teeth, are more said for himself than to Bash, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm not. I-- fuck." This isn't like him... but he hasn't heard those words directed at him since his dad died, and this is the first time they've ever been in this context.
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Except he doesn't regret doing so. He doesn't hate that he's finally laid his cards on the table. Oh look, a royal flush--hearts, of course.
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Giving himself a chance to breathe and leaning into the loose embrace, Keith takes a slow, deep breath to steady himself before trying this again, the words heavy and unfamiliar on his tongue. Even if he ends up getting hurt eventually, even if it turns out he jumped in too quickly and way over his head, he'll deal with it later. For now, he's grabbing hold of whatever this is and running with it. "I love you."
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Or at least consider whether or not having to deal with him all the time would make them not want to be around him. If nothing else, Keith knows he can be a handful at times. "If we did, what would go in it?" He knows there isn't much he'd ask for, but he's not the only one involved.
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And he's still having some trouble, but Jeff and Bash are working that out.
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Actually, he limits himself as far as that's concerned to Bash, Vrenille, and said bar that Vrenille had taken him to as an introduction to sex when he'd first arrived, though namely because the drinks aren't bad and it's a help to desensitize him to being around others going at it -it's not often that he engages in anything himself, but in the event he waits too long on quota, it's good for a last-minute romp.
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"Virginity's a weird fucking concept anyway. But yeah, I think a contract would be pretty simple. Like. Not in the contract, but I'd wanna know if you're staying out late so I know if I oughta wait up. Or if anything's going on you need help with."
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Keith's hands slide up Bash's thighs to settle at his waist, arms looped loosely around him as he tilts his chin up to meet his eye. "And lucky for you, I don't usually stay out late here unless it's something important, and I haven't gotten myself into any trouble yet. However I do think I probably need a fork."
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If this is what it's like to be in love, then he's okay with this. Completely okay with it.
"Can I ask to work one more thing in, maybe?"
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