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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[cozen]

[ The laughter starts right back up again. ]

Talking about it. That is very normal and unsuspicious of them. But as long as they are happy...

You know—

[ A moment to fully stop laughing again. ]

You know, I might never have sex with a woman again. I had not thought of that.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly makes an emphatic hm, hm noise as he nods - yes, very normal, very unsuspicious. Hm! hm! But when Bastien starts in with that you know, he quiets down himself to frown thoughtfully. ]

Is that an unpleasant thought?

[cozen]

No.

[ Easily, though it surprises him a bit that he needs so little thought to be sure. If it were the other way around, if Byerly were a woman and he was done with men, it might have been a harder question. ]

Weird, that is all. To think I have done something for the last time. Especially something I did so often, [ with joking swagger, ] and so well.

I suppose I might miss the corsets.

[bouchonne]

My heart - [ Byerly says gravely - ] I would be beyond honored to put on a corset for you.

[ He's happy to hear that, though. He's happy to hear that certainty. To have that closed off - Well, it would be rather akin to being told that you could never again have sweets. There are many pleasures to be found in savory foods, to be sure - and By flatters himself to think that he's quite a fine chef d'cuisine, when it comes down to it - but still. Denial can result in longing.

Then, more practically: ]

And we could always do threesomes. If you're open to it.

[cozen]

[ A long, speculative, satisfied hum answers the offer to wear a corset. Byerly does wear a dress well.

As for threesomes, ]

We could.

[ That’s an enthusiasm-touched we could, not the vague but I would rather not kind. But only enthusiasm-touched, not enthusiasm-soaked. ]

I think your corset will take care of me, but if you—especially after the war, [ when he might see Alexandrie less often, Bastien does not want to say aloud, though talking around it probably runs just as great a risk of making Byerly sad, ] if you need—

[ A pause, to recenter on the point. ]

They’re fun.

[bouchonne]

They are.

[ He smiles. There's a pinch, a sorrow, thinking about after the war. When Alexandrie goes north. They'll still see each other, of course - Maker, he hopes they will - but it won't be the same. But -

But it's not an agony. Painful, but not heart-stopping. He won't be alone. ]

And there may be a time when we grow accustomed to one another. When we no longer provide each other the novelty that we both need so terribly - [ Because they both need novelty, would practically die if they had to live without surprise. ] We can figure that out if it happens.

[cozen]

[ They are, blessedly, miles past the point where Bastien might have spiraled into worrying that By eventually growing a bit bored with the sex might mean growing bored with him. Miles and miles and miles past it, all the way into territory where he can laugh and say, ]

For a time. Once we hit fifty, it is missionary in the dark for the rest of our lives. I’m sorry—that is the rule.

[ It is not the rule. ]

[bouchonne]

Oh, you're right.

[ Said in the tone of someone who's just been reminded of an appointment they forgot about, or a fact that had slipped their mind. ]

And past sixty, it's nothing at all, to avoid traumatizing the young folks.

[cozen]

Mmhm. If they get wind of anything but hand-holding and closed-mouth kisses, they may never recover.

And at seventy, of course, we will have to find the nearest pyre and climb onto it.

[bouchonne]

There's no one I'd rather burn with.

[cozen]

[ Sweetness even sweeter when he wasn’t expecting it, in the middle of jokes and threesome discussion. ]

Me, either.

[ He means it. He gives it a moment to exist alone, fully-meant. ]

But when the time comes, I think we should go on the lam.

[bouchonne]

[ He grins - pleased at Bastien's response, pleased at the lightheartedness that follows. ]

Fake our own deaths first, of course.

[cozen]

Change our names. Steal our dogs back from whoever takes them in now that we are dead. Travel to places we have never been and keep figuring out new ways to fuck for another twenty years.

They will never take us alive.

[bouchonne]

[ Sometimes he loves Bastien so hard that his lungs feel paralyzed. ]

And when we're finally too old and decrepit, we'll be summoned directly to the side of the Maker. Turns out he was always just a big pervert all this time.

[cozen]

[ Snickering. While he's snickering it occurs to him that he has been keeping Byerly from his undoubtedly important work for a long time now, and Byerly, who only ever fails to answer his silly questions and hypotheticals if he's occupied by more than paperwork, is likely to let Bastien keep him from his work until the sun rises, even if it means being exhausted for several days after.

Still— ]

Actually, that makes sense. He did give us all these parts. Maybe the Chantry misunderstood what song he wants all the nations singing, and it is more like, oh, ohhhhh, oh, [ to the first few notes of a popular snippet of the Chant. ]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly practically giggles at the blasphemy. ]

And he certainly wouldn't have given us all these desires if he didn't want us pursuing them. That'd be perverse. Like building a boat and scolding it for floating.

[cozen]

Exactly! We should start our own Chantry.

And you should finish your work, [ as if such a thing is ever truly possible, ] so you can come get into bed with me.

[ As much as someone can sink and snuggle into these shitty mattresses and pillows and, alright, decent blankets, he's doing it now. It's in his voice. He is trying to be tempting. ]

If you bring some work I can help you with, I will do it in the morning while I listen to you snore.

[ Whether or not Byerly actually snores is irrelevant to this teasing. ]