caw caw

Aside from their initial bursts of affection, in the haze of the bubbling anxiety and new feelings, public intimacy was not an activity they indulged in. He knew Yuri wasn’t much for displaying feelings in public--or, perhaps, it was him that was more hesitant? Seeing as he had such a reputation and standing that would be changed as more knew of their relationship. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being with Yuri, a man, no--it was Yuri that ought be ashamed to be with him. Older, a fake heart that faltered now and then and would continue to break down, with a history of betrayal and blind loyalty to the detriment of everything. As the butterflies died, what would be left to keep the wolf by his side? He’d certainly not want to keep him from a potential future with someone better.

So the feeling of a hand slipping into his jolts him, even as his own fingers immediately curl around the other’s, if not for any reason that his response to such unexpected actions is to grab the snake by the head, so to speak. His breath hitches as he falls back onto years of experience to keep expression neutral and not look about to make sure they’ve not got an audience for the moments it takes to relax again. This is fine. This is--well, as he loosens his grip and lets himself feel the heat ‘gainst his fingers--it’s good. It feels nice, and there’s a hint of a small grin, just a corner of his lips risen in that shy sort of new love, even as he tries to push it down because, really, he’s too old for that.

Still, repeatedly telling himself that he’s too old for young lovers’ games doesn’t keep him from being touched or wanting to play. Maybe one day he’ll act his age. Today, however, he’ll simply lean a little bit closer as they walk, and enjoy the way his baggy jacket obscured their hands between them as a secret only they shared, turning his head to make a quip, as if he hadn’t been caught so completely off-guard a moment ago.

I'm way too young to lie here forever I'm way too old to try so whatever Come hang Let's go out with a bang (Bang! Bang! bang!)

& then karma’s just. raven talking to yuri post-game.

He’s staring. Obviously. Though it’s not a leer but something closer to muted horror--he must be getting old, if his first thought is ‘wouldn’t you like a sweater?’ Ah, but just staring is rude, and comfortable in his own roost, he’s got to hear all about this new and very intriguing individual.

cinders take shelter in the pit of his lungs, awaiting flames’ reignition. but the gentle waterfalls of a heart’s tears meant it had wept enough to flood, moisten coals burnt to the touch. coincidentally, there may be no more fires ablaze in his chest, those birthed by the voice in his head that so desperately sought to deter his affections. well, at least until the falls ran bone dry. for now, he’s access to the reservoir, able to tap into it.

it was the least he could do, though, given that he’d already put his own heart through so much suffering —- appease it, for the time being. until tomorrow comes and he’s faced with another villain, another slaughter. and he could feel his own body recoil in response to such thoughts, his stomach twists in pain, a feeling he’s so accustomed to he’s desensitized to the ache. in favor of his resolve, he often ignored the gut - wrenching feelings in his stomach. just as he did now. even so, there is space between them again. his own hands dangling at his sides until deciding to rise, settling themselves ‘pon either sides of him, on the very tops of his hips. raven’s voice cutting through morbid thoughts, making him focus on just that : the rough timbre that held enough melodic strength to calm him. though, it was not always like that. 

and he shakes his head. 

❝ i didn’t break your jaw when you kissed me the first time, right? i’d say that’s repayment enough. ❞ in all honesty, however, there was a need of repayment for allowing him to exhume feelings from graves long since buried —— and he intended to pay raven back for it. just not now. maybe in the future when he was able to fully commit himself to these feelings of adoration; when he could truly say without a doubt that this was love. doubt would always find its way here, beckoning him back to the darkness where he’d belonged —– back into isolation. he would just simply have to fight it. like he fought off everything else.

❝ yeah, yeah. pick a place, and i’ll take you there, alright? as long as you’re still alive and kicking, i’ll keep my word. ❞ a quiet promise to echo within even his own conscious, to enforce this newfound feeling of togetherness. it acts as a small, very minor admission : he would be here, by raven’s side. such confessions did not come so easily and as plainly as one would have liked, but it is what he could offer for now —— simple acts of kindness that voiced his emotions. 

❝ i think that’s proper enough. ❞ single brow quirks, though lips betray him with a gentle upward curve. new feelings were rather difficult to deal with, but he would make do, even if they make him slightly unnerved. legs shifting unconsciously, forcing his weight to waver from side to side. ❝ i have some time now if you want to —– ❞ he gestures behind him. accompanying it, a shrug, hoping to add some nonchalance to his words while an index finger points towards the direction of bustling townsfolk still so unaware of the tragic love unfolding with each careful sole pressed upon the pavement.

Teeth bare in insignificant grimace--broken jaw may be what he had deserved, silly man with silly thoughts, but it would have come with so many inconveniences. Can’t kiss anybody like that, and present company included, there were many people he enjoyed kissing. Though, he wasn’t particularly put off at the prospect of sticking to kissing just one person for a while--tear and wear was catching up, and getting around was just getting to be plain too much work. Might tarnish his reputation some, but eh, he could live with it. 

   “Long as I’m alive an’ kicking, huh? Ya’ve got th’ more dangerous life, better not kick th’ bucket on me yerself.”   It was as close to plain concern as he’d get--there was always a pit of worry at his stomach that grew the longer between visits they went. He knew the sorts of business the wolf got up to, and had even sent some his way from time to time. The guilds mostly sorted themselves out sure, made sure to nip their own problems in the bud, and he oft the blade to do so, but resources could get thin. They were getting better, the Union and Altosk built back up enough to handle matters without resorting to extremes, but there were still plenty of ne’er-do-wells that remembered how easy they fell before, ready to knock them back down again.

Brows rose--to... what? Catch a drink? Get a meal? Head to his place? Gotta admit, he was a little hesitant to rush into anything more than heavy petting. Wasn’t quite sure what to do, which was a strange thing to say, having thought himself quite the adept lover before this moment. Supposed there was only one way to find out--and besides, it’d been some time since they’d had a proper meet up. Had to get his fill of company to make sure the young pup was alright. Make sure he got some food in him and took a breather and all. Boy took things way too seriously on his own.

So he pulls his hands back to himself and shoves them in his pockets, hoping to pull off his own standard nonchalance, goofy grin a bit more lopsided and off-kilter than normal, albeit with a buzz, a waver of excitement.   “Lead th’ way. Not like I had pressin’ business. I’m all yours fer th’ afternoon. Maybe even th’ night.”   A playful nudge is given as he moves to take his place beside the wolf, elbow catching to signal continued interest, and that, yes, he will be walking too close to be properly comfortable, and that maybe, if Yuri asks nice enough, he’ll even hold hands, watching eyes be damned. He’d bet his gald someone had already seen that kiss and he’d catch a good heckle later, so he might as well make it something of a proper show, if his partner didn’t mind playing a role.

❝ doesn’t look like it. ❞  since raven’s return, yuri has purposefully avoided any and all unnecessary interactions with the other. aside from a swift punch to the other’s jaw, there has not been much contact. blossoming friendship may very well have wilted in the frigid weather. in truth, his mind lingered elsewhere, focused on saving estelle. but there is a part of him that forced his gaze to shift in battle, look upon all those around him, fighting for their lives, too. his focus, then, shifts to raven. it caused him to speak up, though he would ultimately regret it. ❝ i need everyone to pull their weight. ❞ 

Shoulders rolled, and the way his eyes flit up could be construed as an annoyed roll, disinterest or dislike for words thrown back his way. Nothing at all to do with the stiffness, the weariness of those bones and pained pull of muscles, his breath that was so barely kept normal. Ghost pains burned on his chest, on his blastia, scars all crying out, their tales to be remembered.

breaking a code? it’s a game. & his brain latches onto the puzzle ‘til he’s worked out. seeing the Soul Smith’s code was, in fact, just business & not some romantic back and forth was genuinely disappointing. he doesnt care about business. give him intrigue. no not spy intrigue. wait stop sending spy intrigue--

the scene in halure where he’s left with sicily & ordered to count all the petals? game. he goes through with it despite the constant complaints & several refusals ‘cause his brian shouts ‘game!!’ & then he’s gotta do it. ‘this is dumb im not doing it’ one two three ‘seriously, its a fools errand’ ten eleven twelve ‘its impossible, who’s dumb enough to count all the petals on a giant flowering tree??’ one hundred and one one hundred and two ‘okay so theres like fuckin ten thousand petals--’

sit him in front of the game cases in nam cobanda & he will not move until someone drags him away. & then he’s gonna complain about his back & feet & eyes hurting. how dare they let him fixate on those annoying horrible things. the games there arent even good. but also? no one can beat his high score ever so suck it.

His initial reaction is discomfort, feet leaving the ground suddenly has never boded well, his body insists, stiffening even as he’s fully aware of what’s happening. It takes a moment for him to convince those muscles to relax, to figure out what he wants to do, caught in Yuri’s clutches like so.

And he decides to do nothing, draping himself over the wolf and settling with the same air of a cat finding a comfortable spot on a ledge to not move from the rest of the afternoon. It’s far more comfortable than standing around or walking. Heavens, him at his age, walking? Absurd. Let him be carried like the frail old man he is. The sort of senile old coot that’ll take any opportunity to grope his caretaker whenever possible.