These Are Their Stories

closed with @cointriicked

There were few people in the world who could be so stubborn as to have denied the advancement of technology so hard that they somehow missed the development of androids. It was an accomplishment Espen would have been proud of, had he realized he’d done it. Of course, only having a television from the 1970s helped. He’d seen of course, the young people with their glowing circles affixed to their temples, (he wasn’t a complete shut in) but he assumed the strange fads of the 1980s were coming back in new and “exciting” ways. It was neither here nor there to the witch.

Of course, one thing that never changed was the way cops swaggered in. It was something of a mystery to Espen that they ever successfully went under cover at all. He frowned very slightly at the pair, thinking idly that they were an odd pair. One being fairly old for an officer doing any field work, and the other apparently into this odd trend. He looked like something out of 1982′s Tron. He hadn’t meant to watch that particular film, but the television had come with a VHS player, and Tron was in it. 

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” he asked politely. He wasn’t sure why the cops were here, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be drawing attention to himself. He hadn’t made it to 2039 by being reckless. Or rude to cops. The older one was looking around. “Yeah, this is definitely the place we’re looking for,” he told his partner.

Grey had been regarded as a strange child growing up; at some point he reached an age where he wasn’t interested in playing pretend. It was as if the moment he learned the truth about Santa, he refused to accept that there was anything magical in the world. Instead, he was always the one with a book in his hand — mature beyond his years. Espen was everything his younger self stuck his nose up at, everything he refused to accept and it was wild, now, that they worked together and shared space. Wilder, still, that Grey believed him and found himself fond of the much older man. So fond, in fact, that he easily melts under administrations. Cheeks darken as Espen practically mothers over him — completely bypasses social protocol, as usual. A chuckle sounds and he allows it all in a display of trust. Espen was allowed to touch him where it hurt. Allowed to clean away his failures.

“Psh, let’s not.” At least he sits as still as he can, only turning his head when Espen seems to need to get to a particularly stubborn patch of drying blood. “He’s confronting her, by now. No money is going to be worth getting in the middle of that.”

He doesn’t think anything about the fussing he’s doing. After all, if he acts like it’s normal, it would be perceived that way. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to fool more, Grey or himself. Regardless, he continues until his partner is clean. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but Espen found it happening more and more lately. He was too old not to see what he was doing, but he ignored it anyway. 

If he noticed that he was just using it as an excuse to get close to Grey, he might stop himself. He told himself it had just been a long time since he’d actually enjoyed a mortal’s company. That Grey’s mind was actually sharp enough to understand his magic. And it certainly hadn’t hurt that, when shown proof, Grey didn’t back up. He didn’t run away. He’d looked closer.

It wouldn’t be the last time Espen patched him up; Grey Kingsley had a habit of finding trouble in the form of fists and crossfire. He almost didn’t want to know what was in Espen’s little tincture — as it would start an in-depth discussion about magic and how it was basically cheating, but he was thankful to have it. To have a chance to experience it. There were billions of humans who wouldn’t have magic touch them once in their life. In a way, he’s spoiled. He likes the concept — especially when it comes to the grumpy older man. The frown is to be expected and the question about his tongue makes him laugh, the sound lovely and raw. Happiness was something he never seemed to hold back on, even with a busted lip and money missing from his pocket. He allows the stalling, but doesn’t hold back when it comes to his own antics. “Oh, bigtime.” A lie, one made obvious by how he can’t keep eye contact for a second. “It needs kisses too. My whole face is a must-kiss-zone right now, man.”

“Will we? I mean — if you really want to, the sooner the better; that divorce is going to leave him penniless. It’s gonna be brutal.” 

He was always glad when Grey didn’t fight him on getting healed. He never understood his arguments, calling it cheating. That was nonsensical. You couldn’t cheat at life. Some people were just dealt a better hand, that was all. Grey was dealt a seemingly endless cheer and even more intelligence. Espen had magic. He wasn’t sure which was better.

He was very concerned for a moment, and then realized it was just more ridiculousness. He sighed at him. Your face is not likely to get any kisses until it is no longer covered in blood.” He snapped his fingers and caught the damp rag that flew into his hand. “Now, let that potion work and sit still.” He probably could let the cloth clean him itself, or even hand the rag to Grey, but he doesn’t. He just starts cleaning him carefully.

That little look does very little to deter him — which is the usual case, with him. The answer he gets isn’t entirely like rejection, more of a complaint and Grey can’t help but wonder about his chances if there wasn’t copper on his palette. “Not always.” He has that look — eyes sparkling with mischief and lips posed in a certain smile. Despite the pain he wants to banter, wants to see if he can get Espen riled up, get him to slip somehow.

Brows raise when the vial is produced and for a moment he looks like he may protest — that is, until Espen moves closer and touches the cut. Something jumps in his chest at the contact and he swears there is electricity in his veins. It does sting, a little, but there’s no sign on it on Grey’s features as he watches Espen closely.

The tip of his tongue peeks out to roll over the pads of fingers, eye-contact unbroken.

“Half.”

“More or less always,” he mutters. It worries him more than it ought to. Mortals were always bleeding. They had a limited time here, it made sense to go out and risk what they had. That wasn’t how Espen operated. Oh no. He had a long life and he didn’t intend to end it any time soon. So he was cautious. Safe. Boring. Unlike the man before him.

Of course, he forgets that train of thought when Grey licks his fingers. His lips turn down slightly into a confused frown. “Did you bite your tongue too? Let me see.” He brings his other hand up to hold his chin and try to see the extent of the damage. Part of him knows exactly why Grey had done that. But he’s stalling. He needs a moment. It has been a long long time since his stomach has twisted itself up in knots like this.

╳   FLAWS.

moody  |  short-tempered  |  emotionally unstable |  whiny  |  controlling  |  conceited  |  possessive |  paranoid  | liar |  impatient |  cowardly  |  bitter  | selfish | power - hungry  | greedy |  lazy  |  judgemental  |  forgetful  |  impulsive  |spiteful |  stubborn  |  sadistic |  petty  |  unlucky

♔   STRENGTHS.