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contact part deux
if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message
No. [ Fondly. ] About, uh, how if you have changed your mind, it is all right. Now that you’ve had some time for things to settle, if you’ve found your hands are full and your Fereldan parts are better cared for than you expected. If what you really want is a friend who doesn’t try to feel you up. It would be fine. Because I want you to be happy first, and I want to keep you in my life second, and third, I want to maintain my access to your dog.
[ Half joking. Maybe a quarter joking. He twists his head around to glance at Whiskey, who he loves immensely back.
An eighth joking. ]
So the kissing and the... baguette buttering... I don’t want to understate how much I have enjoyed it, but it’s a solid fourth priority.
[ Still an understatement. All of it is. And here’s another, delivered with a little smile and a wholly unnecessary reach over to fix a bit of Byerly’s hair that doesn’t really need fixing: ]
If you haven’t changed your mind, though, I have finished thinking, and I think it would be pretty great.
—that is more or less how it would go, anyway. For the real thing, if you give me an evening, I would add some metaphors and wear a nicer shirt.
[ Half joking. Maybe a quarter joking. He twists his head around to glance at Whiskey, who he loves immensely back.
An eighth joking. ]
So the kissing and the... baguette buttering... I don’t want to understate how much I have enjoyed it, but it’s a solid fourth priority.
[ Still an understatement. All of it is. And here’s another, delivered with a little smile and a wholly unnecessary reach over to fix a bit of Byerly’s hair that doesn’t really need fixing: ]
If you haven’t changed your mind, though, I have finished thinking, and I think it would be pretty great.
—that is more or less how it would go, anyway. For the real thing, if you give me an evening, I would add some metaphors and wear a nicer shirt.
[ He’s saying, ]
Yes.
[ A little rushed and a little hushed, but with finality. He moves his hair-fixing hand to Byerly’s face, fingers on his cheekbone, and taps yes there too for emphasis. He knows fear when he sees it. He doesn’t want to be the cause.
And he doesn’t know exactly what he’s saying yes to. Continuing as they were, but as they were was a few sessions of necking scattered across months and one morning of lazy, mostly-clothed sex. This is already different.
Still: yes. ]
Yes.
[ A little rushed and a little hushed, but with finality. He moves his hair-fixing hand to Byerly’s face, fingers on his cheekbone, and taps yes there too for emphasis. He knows fear when he sees it. He doesn’t want to be the cause.
And he doesn’t know exactly what he’s saying yes to. Continuing as they were, but as they were was a few sessions of necking scattered across months and one morning of lazy, mostly-clothed sex. This is already different.
Still: yes. ]
Ah.
[ He feels, for a moment, the oddest sensation, like he might cry. There's a strangely damp feeling behind his eyes, and a tightness in his throat, and he thinks that it might be tears surging upwards. So odd. He swallows hard to force it away, and takes a shaky breath, and says: ]
Yes. Good.
[ And a little breathily, a little rushed: ]
I haven't changed my mind.
[ He feels, for a moment, the oddest sensation, like he might cry. There's a strangely damp feeling behind his eyes, and a tightness in his throat, and he thinks that it might be tears surging upwards. So odd. He swallows hard to force it away, and takes a shaky breath, and says: ]
Yes. Good.
[ And a little breathily, a little rushed: ]
I haven't changed my mind.
[ For ah and yes and good, Bastien watches his face. Tries to decide what to make of it. To resist the impulse toward optimism that’s gotten him into so much trouble before. To keep hold of the caveats he’s already silently agreed to be fine with—a smaller share, a lesser place, a different word.
Maybe it isn’t even a good look. Maybe Byerly has changed his mind. Maybe—
Nope.
Bastien’s smile is wide and relieved, for a flash, then smaller and happier. And he could stand to sit there and smile and be happy for quite some time, but Byerly looks a bit like he’s suffering, down there in his chair, so after a moment Bastien flicks his free hand across his brow, clearing away imaginary sweat. ]
Whew. This could have been very awkward.
[ The hand on Byerly’s face, in particular. Bastien returns it there now with a bit more confidence, palm against his jaw instead of only fingertips on his cheek. ]
Maybe it isn’t even a good look. Maybe Byerly has changed his mind. Maybe—
Nope.
Bastien’s smile is wide and relieved, for a flash, then smaller and happier. And he could stand to sit there and smile and be happy for quite some time, but Byerly looks a bit like he’s suffering, down there in his chair, so after a moment Bastien flicks his free hand across his brow, clearing away imaginary sweat. ]
Whew. This could have been very awkward.
[ The hand on Byerly’s face, in particular. Bastien returns it there now with a bit more confidence, palm against his jaw instead of only fingertips on his cheek. ]
I'm never awkward.
[ He's awkward now, breath a little quick, hands uncertain, the tips of his ears pink. He meets Bastien's eyes, and Maker, he feels like a knock-kneed youth again, all gangly and shy. What does he do now? What do they do now? Write each other poetry? He hadn't planned this far. Alexandrie had had the decency to sail away so he could regain some confidence and take some time to plan.
His awkward, sensitive hand comes up and covers Bastien's. His fingers curl around it. ]
We could fuck on my desk.
[ He's awkward now, breath a little quick, hands uncertain, the tips of his ears pink. He meets Bastien's eyes, and Maker, he feels like a knock-kneed youth again, all gangly and shy. What does he do now? What do they do now? Write each other poetry? He hadn't planned this far. Alexandrie had had the decency to sail away so he could regain some confidence and take some time to plan.
His awkward, sensitive hand comes up and covers Bastien's. His fingers curl around it. ]
We could fuck on my desk.
[ Bastien laughs, half startled and half pleased. ]
I will not say I’ve never thought about that.
[ Now he’s thinking about it again. If his eyes weren’t already so dark they’d be darker. But he’s thinking about other things, too, like Byerly’s pink ears and quick breaths. He turns his hand to catch the one Byerly had placed over it and keep hold. ]
And if you give me an evening, we can fuck anywhere you want. We can do a whole fuck tour. Your desk. My desk. [ Now, though, he’s sliding off the desk. The immediate future will be desk-fuck free. ] There are some rocks outside the walls where I go smoke sometimes. We’ll have a few weeks before it is too cold to get your cock out.
[ He should probably make sure the work can wait, but surely if it could wait for a fuck it can wait for this, too, so he gives Byerly’s hand a coaxing tug. All the talking is a form of coaxing, too. Relax, smile. ]
But do you know—this whole month, do you know what I have wanted to do with you the most? You can’t laugh.
[ He can laugh if he wants to. Bastien’s already grimacing at himself in preparation. An adult man! Who’s been offered a fuck! And yet. ]
Cuddle.
I will not say I’ve never thought about that.
[ Now he’s thinking about it again. If his eyes weren’t already so dark they’d be darker. But he’s thinking about other things, too, like Byerly’s pink ears and quick breaths. He turns his hand to catch the one Byerly had placed over it and keep hold. ]
And if you give me an evening, we can fuck anywhere you want. We can do a whole fuck tour. Your desk. My desk. [ Now, though, he’s sliding off the desk. The immediate future will be desk-fuck free. ] There are some rocks outside the walls where I go smoke sometimes. We’ll have a few weeks before it is too cold to get your cock out.
[ He should probably make sure the work can wait, but surely if it could wait for a fuck it can wait for this, too, so he gives Byerly’s hand a coaxing tug. All the talking is a form of coaxing, too. Relax, smile. ]
But do you know—this whole month, do you know what I have wanted to do with you the most? You can’t laugh.
[ He can laugh if he wants to. Bastien’s already grimacing at himself in preparation. An adult man! Who’s been offered a fuck! And yet. ]
Cuddle.
[(right after this)
It's early evening and the work day hasn't quite finished when Benedict appears back in the office, carrying some folio or another that he was meant to retrieve. He sets it absently on Byerly's desk, his hand shaking, and goes to sit on his own, where he proceeds to stare at the surface of it with a face like he's seen a ghost.]
It's early evening and the work day hasn't quite finished when Benedict appears back in the office, carrying some folio or another that he was meant to retrieve. He sets it absently on Byerly's desk, his hand shaking, and goes to sit on his own, where he proceeds to stare at the surface of it with a face like he's seen a ghost.]
Edited 2020-10-17 04:11 (UTC)
Maker's stinky breath.
[ He does laugh. Not cruelly, but more as a release of tension. Because that, well - that sounds appealing indeed, but By is saved from having to express any desires like that because Bastien has already expressed them. And that helps. This whole thing is so undefined that any definition at all makes him feel on steadier ground. So this is a cuddly sort of thing. Good. That helps.
So he's a little less tense when he says: ]
How utterly domestic. Bastien, help - this thought fills me with utter panic - but - have we grown up?
[ He does laugh. Not cruelly, but more as a release of tension. Because that, well - that sounds appealing indeed, but By is saved from having to express any desires like that because Bastien has already expressed them. And that helps. This whole thing is so undefined that any definition at all makes him feel on steadier ground. So this is a cuddly sort of thing. Good. That helps.
So he's a little less tense when he says: ]
How utterly domestic. Bastien, help - this thought fills me with utter panic - but - have we grown up?
You started it.
[ He sounds fond. And he lets go of Byerly’s hand, finally, to back away from the desk and head for the couch. ]
If you hadn’t asked me and just... grabbed me sometime, I would have gone along with it.
[ And felt—some sort of way about it. Not miserable. Or at least not miserable for very long before he did something about it. But this is better.
He drops himself to sit and arranges his hand on his knee the same way he did that time in the mountains. Come over here. ]
[ He sounds fond. And he lets go of Byerly’s hand, finally, to back away from the desk and head for the couch. ]
If you hadn’t asked me and just... grabbed me sometime, I would have gone along with it.
[ And felt—some sort of way about it. Not miserable. Or at least not miserable for very long before he did something about it. But this is better.
He drops himself to sit and arranges his hand on his knee the same way he did that time in the mountains. Come over here. ]
[ Whoever can resist an invitation such as that? Especially when Bastien looks so comely, all dark eyes and large features and genuine smiles. He's not sure what his favorite part of Bastien is - whether it's that heavy nose, or those dark brows that give him the air of serious thought even when he's grinning, or maybe it's the ridiculous teeth. Maybe the teeth. Regardless, Bastien is a fucking bounty, a peasanty cornucopia that's so utterly unlike Alexandrie's refined delicacy and if there is proof that the Maker is unjust it's that a scoundrel like him could wind up getting this.
He winds himself around Bastien on that couch, sliding in and tugging at him to slot himself against the man's back, wrapping him into an embrace. He leans his cheek against Bastien's, and rests his chin on his shoulder, and just tries to experience as much of him as he possibly can. ]
I actually rather like it this way. Knowing where we stand. 'Ah,' I used to say, 'no need for labels. We all understand what we're about.'
He winds himself around Bastien on that couch, sliding in and tugging at him to slot himself against the man's back, wrapping him into an embrace. He leans his cheek against Bastien's, and rests his chin on his shoulder, and just tries to experience as much of him as he possibly can. ]
I actually rather like it this way. Knowing where we stand. 'Ah,' I used to say, 'no need for labels. We all understand what we're about.'
[If he hadn't already been en route to the diplomacy office with work materials, Benedict probably would've gone AWOL for the rest of the day-- but here he is, looking like he's about to crawl out of his skin, and he looks back at Byerly with a helpless expression.]
I don't know what to do.
[He opens his mouth, closes it again, takes a breath.]
I don't.... I don't know what to do.
I don't know what to do.
[He opens his mouth, closes it again, takes a breath.]
I don't.... I don't know what to do.
Commander Flint,
[He hesitates, perhaps afraid he’ll be seen as speaking against a department head in an organization within which he’s already on this ice.
But still— use your words.]
...is angry that... Jone didn’t listen when I told her no. He said this is the last hour he’s wasting on me.
[Far from tattling on a disliked supervisor, Bene looks like he’s one breath from a blind panic.]
Does that mean— I go back down? If he’s dissatisfied, or— or does it mean—
[The metaphysical finger-across-throat gesture hangs in the air, it’s presence known even if he didn’t perform it.]
[He hesitates, perhaps afraid he’ll be seen as speaking against a department head in an organization within which he’s already on this ice.
But still— use your words.]
...is angry that... Jone didn’t listen when I told her no. He said this is the last hour he’s wasting on me.
[Far from tattling on a disliked supervisor, Bene looks like he’s one breath from a blind panic.]
Does that mean— I go back down? If he’s dissatisfied, or— or does it mean—
[The metaphysical finger-across-throat gesture hangs in the air, it’s presence known even if he didn’t perform it.]
Oh, you are labelling me now?
[ His tone aspires to sound like a skeptical dare. But Bastien was cooperative during Byerly's tugging and arranging—if a touch bemused, more used to holding than being held—and now he's boneless. Quieter than normal. Content. He holds loosely onto one of Byerly's wrapped arms, and he looks at him just as much as he can without disrupting the cheek-leaning. Odd peripheral slivers of nose and mouth and chin. It's very hard to hold onto that remaining knot of uncertainty, like this. Or at least very hard to feel like it matters even a little.
He recovers his neck bones long enough to turn his head. Not very much. Only one side of his mouth actually makes it onto Byerly's cheek, for a dab of a kiss. ]
I like it, too. And I'm sorry. I think I should have said yes when you first asked.
[ His tone aspires to sound like a skeptical dare. But Bastien was cooperative during Byerly's tugging and arranging—if a touch bemused, more used to holding than being held—and now he's boneless. Quieter than normal. Content. He holds loosely onto one of Byerly's wrapped arms, and he looks at him just as much as he can without disrupting the cheek-leaning. Odd peripheral slivers of nose and mouth and chin. It's very hard to hold onto that remaining knot of uncertainty, like this. Or at least very hard to feel like it matters even a little.
He recovers his neck bones long enough to turn his head. Not very much. Only one side of his mouth actually makes it onto Byerly's cheek, for a dab of a kiss. ]
I like it, too. And I'm sorry. I think I should have said yes when you first asked.
What?
[ By stares a moment, genuinely taken aback - then rolls his eyes grandly. Who knows whether that's a reassuring gesture or a devastating one. ]
Maker preserve me, that rampaging druffalo. [ Then - ] No. Flint's good opinion matters not at all when it comes to you.
[ By stares a moment, genuinely taken aback - then rolls his eyes grandly. Who knows whether that's a reassuring gesture or a devastating one. ]
Maker preserve me, that rampaging druffalo. [ Then - ] No. Flint's good opinion matters not at all when it comes to you.
What, and left me wondering if I'd pressured you into it? If you were too afraid of injuring my feelings to refuse?
[ By reaches up to rearrange Bastien's charmingly floppy hair. ]
It would have been a disaster, agreeing straightaway. You did just right.
[ By reaches up to rearrange Bastien's charmingly floppy hair. ]
It would have been a disaster, agreeing straightaway. You did just right.
How certain are you?
[This is not a new concern, only one reupped every time Flint becomes aware of him again, for some reason or another.]
I’m not saying you’re wrong, [and he picks his words carefully, painfully,] but I can’t go back down there. I can’t.
[His eyes are shining and desperate.]
[This is not a new concern, only one reupped every time Flint becomes aware of him again, for some reason or another.]
I’m not saying you’re wrong, [and he picks his words carefully, painfully,] but I can’t go back down there. I can’t.
[His eyes are shining and desperate.]
[ He sighs, and speaks with rare sincerity. Not that sincerity seems all that nice on Byerly - his voice is clipped and brusque, rather than kindly - but there's no teasing or irony or drollness when he says: ]
There is but one thing that can put you back into a cell: another betrayal. Flint's ill temper matters not one bit. I do not have the patience for squandering resources in the name of pettiness, nor does Yseult, nor Thranduil. And his hatred of Tevinter is not responsible for determining Riftwatch policies.
[ Irritably: ]
I suppose I'm to blame. I asked him to intervene with that brute of a woman.
There is but one thing that can put you back into a cell: another betrayal. Flint's ill temper matters not one bit. I do not have the patience for squandering resources in the name of pettiness, nor does Yseult, nor Thranduil. And his hatred of Tevinter is not responsible for determining Riftwatch policies.
[ Irritably: ]
I suppose I'm to blame. I asked him to intervene with that brute of a woman.
[Brusque though it may be, Bene finds reassurance in it. Finally, he begins to calm down, his heartbeat slowing and some color returning to his face.]
I do everything I can to stay out of his way.
[There’s gratitude in his face, but he’s trying to be circumspect about it, having already brought enough dramatics into the office.]
I don’t mind what Jone is trying to do. I... well, you know. [They've been over it already.] I’ll speak to her again. ...in a bit.
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