bouchonne: (delighted!!)
Byerly Vlad Rutyer ([personal profile] bouchonne) wrote2020-10-03 12:55 pm
Entry tags:

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
cozen: (n177)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-17 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
Mm, if that is what lets you keep up with two bards who can't get enough of you...

[ Then he's happy about it. Goes without saying, especially since they've shuffle-danced their way to the edge of the bed, and he can't talk while he's falling onto it and dragging By along with him. ]

That is the problem with nobles. [ One of them. He's only teasing, while he does the wriggling and reaching required to put a pillow and a blanket in the correct place. ] You keep track. Peasants have a dozen babies, and they go to different farms, and in a few generations everyone in the area is marrying their cousins, but they don't know. Your lot writes it down and hangs it on the wall. You can't forget you are related to anyone.
cozen: (n038)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-17 07:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ An odd tangle of feeling, at that. Mostly good, but if he were to pull it apart there would be threads of defiance. Not belonging to anyone has always been a matter of pride for him, not lonely regret. Threads of some species of shame, as well, like he’s turned his nose up at a common food for a long time, mocked people who enjoyed it, and has now had a bite and discovered it’s delicious.

But there’s a purring sort of pleasure, too. An odd relief.

And most of all he is drunk, and he is drowsy, and he is practical, and he knows offhand that it’s no little thing for Byerly to deny Ferelden something it might want from him. Bastien lets the mostly-good tangle remain untangled and only nods his agreement. ]


I will have to do something with myself besides lie around gazing at you, but—I’ll figure it out. [ He rubs his fist down By’s spine, knuckles bumping on vertebrae. ] If they aren't good to you, they can't have you, either. You can tell them I said so.
cozen: (n054)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-17 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Maybe.

[ It isn’t his usual sort of maybe, when someone says something like that to him. Not the sort that really means that sounds impossible and I don’t want to talk about it. This maybe really means maybe. Maybe he will. Maybe he can. Byerly makes him feel like he could—another reason on his Denerim list, second from the top. ]

If I keep the press, no one can stop me. I could write about our knights, [ the heroic and honest bisexuals, he means, from forever ago, ] to go with their song.
cozen: (n065)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-18 02:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ The yawn is contagious. Through it, Bastien says, ] Yes.

[ He puts his hand in Byerly’s hair. It’s heavier and clumsier-fingered than past attempts to pet him to sleep, but the idea is there. ]

That is the beginning. But they have barely settled into a routine before there is an urgent letter from an old friend…

[ And he wanders off with a meandering quest story that doesn’t have an end, just improvised mysteries and obstacles, until he falls asleep himself in the middle of a sentence.

He wakes up with the headache he anticipated, and aches and nausea he did not. He holds very still and tries to breathe it away until he feels By moving, too, and then he whispers, sounding calm and distant: ]


Why?
cozen: (n040)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-18 03:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Suffering.

[ Bastien doesn’t sound like he’s suffering. It’s not a moan or a whine. But that’s the bard thing—the way he was taught to accept pain and discomfort without thrashing against it.

He doesn’t sound very coherent though, either. Why suffering. He tries again, arm lying heavy over By to encourage him not to move too much. ]


The Maker could have made us without stomachs.



cozen: (n116)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-19 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ That gets a noise less dignified than his philosophizing, both pleased and miserable—bonding! great! suffering? bad—and therefore completely incoherent. ]

You do this. You do this. [ Regularly. Why. And with a hint of awe: ] You gave me a blow job like this.

[ Bastien will not be giving any blow jobs. Taking a full breath is treacherous enough. But he did promise to give By something else. He hasn't forgotten. He'll only stall a little.

His fingers find Byerly's earlobe and rubs it like a worry stone. ]


Do you, ah. Do you want to take any of it back?
Edited 2021-07-19 02:33 (UTC)
cozen: (n176)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-19 05:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The earlobe-rubbing turns into a pinch when By is smug—correct, but smug—and Bastien doesn’t protest when he gets up. He turns his head to watch him, aching and nauseated and awfully fond. ]

No, nothing. [ He sits up against the headboard. ] There is elfroot— [ to chew, not to smoke, for stomach ailments and pains ] —in the drawer there, under the hat.

[ His accent turns all of those ths into dzs. So while Byerly’s not looking, he mouths the name to himself to make sure. Yseult’s taught him how to make a Marcher th sound natural again, instead of like he’s trying to spit his tongue out. So he can do it. One syllable. Simple. He’s not going to mispronounce his own damn name.

It’s only a short pause. ]


Do you ever feel overdramatic, By?
cozen: (n026)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-19 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bastien smiles when By laughs, because yes, fine, it’s funny, but also— ]

Yes.

[ It’s serious. He scoots over a smidge to make sure there’s room for Byerly to sit again before he takes the water and the elfroot. (He’ll share.) ]

Of course you are dramatic. But do you ever feel it? [ He pushes two stringy slices of root into his mouth and talks around them. ] You know—like you shouldn’t have made all that fuss? Or are you thinking, this is my fuss, and I can make it if I want to.
cozen: (n027)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-19 07:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bastien looks sideways at Byerly, who is possibly deliberately trying to say what will make him feel better. But it works. Bastien kisses his cheek, then tears off some root and holds it out to him. ]

I like your dramatics. For the record.

[ He’s going to need more information about this purple and green incident, eventually. For now he leans against By’s shoulder. The root juice is soothing his stomach, decreasing the odds he’ll retch in the middle of any given sentence. So, ]

It’s Laith.

[ His jaw wants to tremble on his inhale, but he doesn’t let it, and once he’s had a good lungful of air the feeling is gone. ]

No family name, unless they forgot to tell me, which—not impossible, but I don’t think so.
cozen: (n086)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-19 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bastien lets out a burst of air that turns into the silent, shoulder-shaking laughter. It makes his head throb, but he doesn’t mind.

And he doesn’t cry, exactly—and that’s not in some macho way where he is actually objectively emotionally crying but wouldn’t admit it. It really is just that one of his eyes leaks a little, in a physiological way, the way it might if he’d been hit in the face with a snowball or, more like what he’s actually feeling, if he’d finally taken off shoes that had been too warm and tight for hours and got to flex his cramped sweaty toes in the open air.

He’s not embarrassed. He doesn’t try to disguise wiping his eye dry with the side of his hand. ]


Hush, [ still laughing, no actual hushing wanted, ] Rutyer.
cozen: (n156)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-20 12:39 am (UTC)(link)
[ Bastien turns his head to catch By's mouth, holds his jaw, and gives him a real kiss. It is not delicious, on account of the gurgly acidic elfrooty morning breath, and it's only a little perverted. Still good, though, in his opinion. Solid. Relieved and grateful and happy and not overlong, because his head still aches and he'd like to eat something and— ]

We need to take your dog out.

[ Très sexy. ]
cozen: (n097)

[personal profile] cozen 2021-07-21 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Delighted confusion about our and delighted outrage about dog-hter collide on Bastien’s face all at once—so the double-dose of delight is the dominant visible emotion, for the second before he’s being peppered with kisses and his expression is irrelevant.

Anyway.

His natural urges to Go and Do (and give their dog a thorough skritching) are tempered by the joy of being cared for and the fact that he is a thirty-seven year old man with a hangover. He stays on the bed, lying flat at the urging of those fingers, and gestures toward his wardrobe—vague permission for Byerly to take a shirt, if he wants one. ]


And coffee.
Edited 2021-07-21 13:38 (UTC)

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