You crack the whip

“Good thing I’ve always had it in for the kinky fox boy trope.” Arvid joked, mostly anyways. The witch wasn’t sure what he had been expecting Julian’s response to his admission to be, but the shifter took it as he took everything, in strides. There was an ease about Julian that was comforting, it was like Arvid could tell him anything and there would never be any sort of judgement. The witch leaned in and pressed his lips against Julian’s, the faint taste of chocolate and weed butter still on his lips as he did. “Do you ever get lost out there?” 

-

“I can’t just shift enough to have the ears and tail.” Kinky fox boy trope, he is grinning at the mere idea of such a thing. He does art, he knows what’s out there on the internet, and he’s perhaps tried said shift before. Turns out there’s no going even a bit fox, it’s all or nothing, which is strangely comforting, to know such a thing isn’t possible on it’s own. Julian’s still smiling when they kiss again and when they part, he’s wondering if they’re off to the side enough in the museum to get away with maybe a bit more than just kissing when Arvid poses the question to him. “I used to worry that’d happen, when I first started shifting.” That he’d simply go out as a fox and just never return, or that he’d wind up just a fox and forget how to shift back. “It’s still me when I’m in there, you know? I kinda just follow the trails until I’m familiar with the area. Around here I’m more worried about running into wolves or worse.” Hands that were on Arvid’s chest slide to the witch’s shoulders and then his fingers play idly with curls at the back of his neck. “I bet the forests in Sweden are beautiful.” 

The sneaking around bit is kind of a turn on, if he’s being honest. Jules took his hand, pulled him away and led him to one of the museum’s hidden recesses. Arvid pressed himself against the other softly and drew the other’s hands to his lips so he could press a kiss to one of the many little tattoos that littered the shifter’s body. He didn’t know how telling his family was going to go over, if he was going to tell them at all. It wasn’t as if Arvid was expected home anytime soon, and at the moment he didn’t really care. “The last guy I was with- or liked I guess I should say.” Arvid shook his head, “It didn’t go well. When he found out I was a witch things got shitty, really shitty. I just… I don’t know, I lost it.” Arvid had hurt him, bad. Which wasn’t to say the guy didn’t deserve it to some degree, but maiming the man hadn’t been the witch’s intention, but a reaction. “I’d never hurt you, ever. It’s just my power sometimes things happen around me. Especially if I’m upset, I can’t always control it.” 

-

Julian thinks that Arvid is actually too sweet to be a person, but that’s a thought he was going to keep for himself at the risk of sounding far too sappy far too early on. The flowers, the kisses to the little rose inked across his hand, the close proximity, it’s all so new. He has had hookups, he has had flirtations, and they’d been fun, but Arvid was different, Arvid was endearing. He’d given him a bit of a warning before, they’d both told each other that they didn’t really do this, they didn’t really know how. “I know what you are and I don’t mind. I know magic is weird.” Or that it could be dangerous, unpredictable. “And I hate to tell you this,” He scoffs, grinning at the witch as he tries to think of what could be something comforting and lighten the mood. “But I wind up naked in the woods about once a week because if I go too long without shifting, I feel weird. So I am more worried about you thinking that’s too weird for you than I’m worried about you hurting me.”

Jules is kissing him and while Arvid was pretty sure that he was supposed to get an outright answer, it’s hard because his brain has suddenly stopped working. The witch’s hands are on the shifter’s sides, they curve around the delicate cant of the other’s neck, find their way to the back of Julian’s head and it isn’t until they nearly knock over one of the displays that they break for a moment. “It is- yeah,” Arvid affirmed, red faced and chuckling as he looks around and catches sight of an elderly couple gawking at them. “I don’t wanna go back to Haljesta, I don’t know. I don’t really know what I’m doing, I came here because-” why Arvid came to Corinth hardly seemed to matter anymore, “but I found you instead.” This meant that Julian would probably have to meet Jerrik, though that could wait. 

-

The sound of ceramic sliding against stone nearly makes him jump and then he’s laughing lightly as he looks at Arvid's red face. He doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want to go back and he wants to introduce him to someone as his boyfriend. This is potentially better than anything Julian had read on Wattpad. He steps away from Arvid and squeezes his hand before leading him a little ways further down the hall in hopes of not potentially breaking any priceless artifacts. He takes it a step further and ducks around one of the stone pillars so they’re borderline tucked in one of the museum's many alcoves. “It’s okay if you don’t know what you’re doing.” He’s got his hands on the witch’s chest as he smiles softly at him. “I have not a damn clue what I’m doing, but I know it feels right. And I know you kind of make me stupidly happy.”

“Well, no. Actually, I just told you to give me a tattoo because of the kindness of my heart.” She rolled her eyes for a moment. “Of course I’m sure. Plus, I’m getting sick of seeing you tattooing fruits all day. I could be eating those, you know.” She sat down on the tattoo chair next to him and pulled up her shirt slightly. “It’s just going to be a small crescent moon. You think you can manage that?” Then she pointed to the spot where she wanted him to tattoo her right next to her panty line.

Julian is left just sort of staring at her openly for a moment. This was his boss, an experienced tattoo artist and resident hot girl of Corinth Bay, and she wanted him to tattoo practically next to her pantyline. The idea of that, the placement, has his cheeks tinting pink for the briefest moment. He was a professional, or at least he wanted to be one, he had to get used to seeing such things. It was all just a canvas, he just needed to make it conform to the body right. Snapping out of it, he looks at the spot, eyes narrowing and then he swivels in his chair and clicks the ever present pen in his hand to doodle a little crescent moon. It doesn’t take long, it’s just a basic outline and he turns again to show her. “Just like, basic? I could shade it, if that’s okay.” Stipple it maybe, make it more cohesive with the rest of her tattoos.

Orion sighed, looking down at the wet spot on his clothing. It was very likely that it would stain, leeching colour and leaving an orange mark on the dark fabric— another item that he’d have to toss away. “Malevolent?” He echoed the word, before grinning Cheshire-like. “No, I’m just bored. Though,” he gestured with his hands, “That does lend itself to malice, in the right circumstances.” Rion leaned against the opposite wall, pointing to his chest. “I’m a chaperone of the dead, I take spirits from this realm onto the next. Really, you’re attacking a man at work which probably is grounds for some kind of claim on my behalf.”

“Am I also not a man at work?” If this were a sitcom, Julian would be looking directly into the camera before looking to this chaperone of spirits. “Like Charon?” His brows raise and if this is indeed the ferryman, he is going to spray himself with the bleach solution because surely he has offended him and therefore his own trip to the afterlife will be terribly bumpy. Hesitantly, he sets the bottle of solution down and tries not to literally scurry past the other man towards the door. Instead, he gestures towards it with both hands. “And now you’ve done your job and you’re leaving?”

“Wasting time with all the wrong people, I guess.” Arvid remarked simply, he’d never been anyone’s anything and instead had been so wrapped up in himself or his family that he never really thought about what life could look like. This one was nice, happy. Almost peaceful. The city is a treacherous place but there’s an ease about it, Arvid isn’t afraid of anything, and yet still somehow Jules makes him feel even more fearless. “Bread, pasta, you name it and Kiki’s will probably have it.” Kiera was cool like that, Arvid wouldn’t mention that the owner of the restaurant would be loudly shipping them from the kitchen. The witch leaned in a bit and pressed his lips softly against the other’s, short but public. A whisper of the growing intimacy between them. “The owner Kiera, she said she’d do something kind of special for us.” Arvid  breathed, “She’s been teaching me Greek and English. Trying to, anyways. She speaks Swedish too. Should I introduce you as my boyfriend or…?”

-

Surely the floaty feeling is the brownie, but Julian does spare a quick glance at his feet to make sure they are indeed on the ground. They’re in public, the kiss had been brief, he was being promised bread or pasta or anything he liked. He looks at that gorgeous face of the witch he’s become so enamored with and despite feeling surprised, his face feels almost stuck in a fond expression, his gaze and curve of his smile soft. He’d been learning Greek, he’d been learning English, he’d brought him flowers, he’d agree to go to some dumb house party out in the woods for him. For just a moment, he pretends they aren’t in public and takes the tiniest step forward and uses his free hand to cup the side of Arvid’s face and then he’s kissing him and it’s only when he’s breathless does he realize that it’s not an outright answer. “That is a yes. That is an explicit yes. I mean, if you want it to be?”

Fate. It was a concept for his family, sure. Arvid put some stock in it, he’d be a fool not to. There were oracles and prophecies abound, most of them were little more than a string of flowery words pulled together to paint a pretty picture. It maybe didn’t need to be said that Arvid was a bit of a pessimist, but Jules was right that their meeting didn’t exactly feel entirely coincidental. “It’s said that the Norns predict our death the moment we’re born, and everything in between is what we make of it. I’ve always thought I’d make my own destiny, be more than what my family expected of me.” It sounded nice, but maybe Arvid was just stoned. His smile was uncharacteristically sheepish, “Do you have plans after this? For dinner, I mean. I’ll buy.”

-

He wants to tell him that he thinks he will be great, that he already thinks he’s great but is that...They haven’t really ever talked a whole lot about what this is between them aside from the night at his place. Julian pressed those flowers before they could wither within the pages of one of his older sketchbooks, he looks to them sometimes in awe that anyone would bring him flowers. They’ve had fun together for months, they enjoy each other’s company, they are holding hands at present, they kiss. They do more than kiss at work, and yet they don’t have a word for this kind of thing, not yet. So instead, Julian cracks a grin that’s almost lazy, eyes going from twined fingers to those big blue eyes. “You brought me brownies and now you’re offering to take me somewhere where I can hopefully fill up on bread. Where have you been all my life?” He was going to fill up on bread regardless, and it feels a little bit bold, but he takes a little step closer and presses his lips to Arvid’s cheek. “I cleared all day for you. Figure whatever time we can get together that’s not at work is precious.”

“Melon skin is nothing like oranges, no wonder you’re not very gentle. Should have tattooed a peach I think.” She was animated now, “Sometimes I think that if I was any fruit at all it would be one of those funny ones that you see at the store now. We have grapes at work that look just like regular grapes, but when you eat them, they taste like cotton candy. No magic at all, they’re just like that.” Kasey had naturally bought two pounds of them and had gorged on the fruit over the course of an entire weekend, so fascinated with the treat that she had seemingly forgotten that any other kind of food existed. “I’ll get you some next time. You’ll like them a lot.” She looked down at the tattoo, at the stars and the planets that she had not quite asked for but hadn’t of been in the mindset to disapprove of when Julian had proposed it, before passing off a smile. It was pretty, and it suited her more than she knew. “The next one I want is the constellation Vulpecula.” His words made the witch pause, nodding. “Her name is Rowan, we’re friends. She said that there was something wrong with me, but she fixed it.”

-

There’s a joke there, about the peach, but he doesn’t make it, just finds himself grinning on his own behalf. Julian shifts on the rolling chair, swiveling it just a little back and forth. “Cotton candy grapes.” He muses, thinking about what the fruit must taste like, if they’d be as sweet as spun sugar with the juiciness of the fruit. He watches her look to his work and there’s that anxiety in his gut again as she looks this way and that way at it. But she smiles because she’s Kasey and of course it was all okay and when he smiles back at her, it’s almost a bit shy. Vulpecula. The shyness dissipates to be nothing but fondness, it’s all he’s ever had for the blonde. “We could do matching ones. I could ask Hippolyta to do mine.” It didn’t suit him so much, but he fully believed she was a celestial body already with the way she talked, she might as well get a few inked onto her skin.

“What was she like?” He asks curiously, swiveling in his chair to the little table he’d dragged in to put his supplies on.

     “Nope, not fuzzy.” It was sort of funny to keep the other shifter guessing — and he had really started this entire game, so Luce didn’t feel particularly bad about it. It was fun, and they all deserved a little more of that in their lives. “Hmmm,” she drew the sound out as she sized him up with her eyes, lips pursed. “Mouse maybe? Squirrel? Small and fuzzy could apply to you really well in contrast to me.”

“I would say I’m…” Well, fuzzy meant fur, didn’t it? Which he indeed did have. Julian looks from their feet on the sidewalk to the line of local places up ahead. “Fluffy. I think I’m like, medium size.” If he said he was about the size of a dog, he thinks he’d give it away. But size is probably another good place to start. “Are you telling me you’re big? I could see it, actually.” Something tall, something sturdy, that did actually seem more like her.

“I kill people and harvest their bones and blood for resources.” Dante deadpanned before his attention turned back from Julian to the piece that he was presently working on. It was impossible to tell if he was joking or not and while it was something of a lie, there was truth to his words as well. The genasi didn’t have friends, at least not many. Certainly none that he’d risk mixing business, magic, or pleasure with. Despite the fact that his magic was often a bit of both. “Book any clients yet?”

-

“I mean, as long as nothing goes to waste, right?” He thinks Dante is joking, or trying to freak him out, or a combination of both. So he plays along, clicks the black ball point pen in his hand before returning it back to the piece of paper before him. “I’ve done consultations for little stuff, I’m not in a hurry.” Which is a polite way of saying he’s a little nervous, but he’s not going to dwell on that. “Where do you find these people to harvest? Or are they all client’s?” Honestly, it wouldn’t be such a bad set up, tattoos in exchange for questionable resources.

How was she feeling- Kasey considered the question with her usual wide eyed wisdom, before offering as concise of an answer as she could. “Like a honey bee who just found a pool of syrup water after every flower in the world has closed up.” Her smile tugged crookedly at her features, crinkling up the corners of her eyes. “I’m very, very happy. Like I’m all full up again, when before I was missing something.” It was the best way that she could figure to describe how she had felt over the last little while: empty. She took care not to wiggle too much, but her nose pinched as Julian worked. “How are you feeling? This doesn’t feel very nice you know, I feel sorry for all those oranges now.”

“Some of them were melons.” It’s become an inside joke with himself, he smiles as he pulls the needle away and wipes at her leg with the paper towel he’s set aside. It’s a return to normalcy, seeing her like this, hearing her speak the way she does. It’d been there before when she’d been clothed in what he had thought of as her ‘ordinary person cosplay’. But it’d been sadder, like a poet on the brink of death. After what Arvid had told him, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been there, her actual soul was tampered with. There is little use dwelling on the past, Kasey is bright and bubbly as ever and the ink on her skin looks pretty damn good. Straightening up, Julian rolls his shoulders back and lets out a huff of breath for posterity. “I’m good, I think. I hardly got nervous this time.” Though his eyes do keep looking for flaws in the small design. “You met a phoenix, didn’t you? To make you feel better.”