contact part deux

[bouchonne]

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

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[bouchonne]

[ By doesn't play a chord. Instead, he interlaces his fingers with Bastien's and squeezes. He doesn't say it aloud, but in his mind is an echo of Bastien's words - Thank you for understanding. Because others, they've heard the cruelty and squalor of his work, and they've struggled to comprehend why he doesn't leave. But Bastien understands.

His tight grip releases a moment later, and he smiles, and goes back to playing idly. This time, it is a chord - major, minor, major again, the web of muscle between each knuckle serving as the black keys. ]

No. I was really quite dependent upon my reputation as a lout. I fear that's quite spoiled, now.

[cozen]

Ah, quelle tragédie, [ Bastien says, head lolling against By with badly-acted despair, though his arm stays still and rigid for that silent music. (At other, less talkative times, he's made a game of trying to hum the appropriate chords, but not now.) ] Years of sullying your reputation, really getting mud into every crevice—ruined.

[ He smiles up at the underside of By's chin. His stomach is better; his headache has retreated so far into a dull and distant ache that ignoring it takes no work at all. ]

Do you know what I would do, if I were the Queen of Ferelden?

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly sighs winsomely. ] Step on my bare chest, the way I've been praying to the Maker for years that she would?

[cozen]

[ Bastien opens his mouth for a moment, a not-quite-surprised gotcha face, which bleeds easily into a bit of a leer. ]

Oh, yes. First priority. In leather slippers with good heels—and fur lining, of course, for Ferelden.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly's noise of lust is not not a joke, but also, it is not a joke. ]

You are a beautiful man.

[cozen]

Mmmhm.

[ Smug. Although, ]

You should tell Alexandrie about that one, if you haven't. Her accent will be more convincing than mine.

[ Among other more convincing things that he won't be explicitly mentioning, out of respect for her history and their privacy—even if she did try to suggest a threesome before Bastien had even said yes to Byerly—and the fact that, like he said, It's Complicated, platonically. But not out of jealousy. He's well past that. And not out of any need or desire to be told he would be a very good Sexy Queen of Somewhere Kind of Like Ferelden But With A Different Garbly Accent. He knows. ]

After I stepped on you, though, and, ah, saw that to its conclusion, I would give you a position. A public one, I mean. Maybe not ambassador to anywhere. That would tie your hands—not in a fun way. But an assistant or attache or something not quite so intimidating, so you could do some of this and some of that.