[There's no way to escape his reality, so media has always been a necessary reprieve for Idia. Being able to pretend that he could possibly be a hero, or see a long-buried feeling expressed in someone else's words-- when things were hardest, that's what he needed. Sad as it might seem (and he'd never admit this), in the time it took to bring Ortho back, it felt like some pixels on a screen were his only friends. Even at school Idia didn't really believe he had any. The fact that he has that now, for real, sitting right beside him is surreal.
Idia zones out for a moment and notices that their legs are nearly touching. Fearless has never minded this sort of thing, but contact is something Idia struggles with. Still does, even if Seras has opened that previously sealed-up door a little wider. There are rules to these things that he doesn't know, never had much practical experience with. Shrouds aren't touchy people. Idia least among them.
When did they become like this? When did Fearless go from a dreaded presence to someone he looks forward to seeing? He's reacting to all the right parts, walking with him in this space that he doesn't think many people can inhabit. And here he's...
Idia returns his attention to the movie. Man, whatever's going on in his brain is totally dissonant from animated violence. He fiddles with the string of his hoodie, not sure how to hold himself.]
... He moves like you do.
[Fei Long, that is. He's about to get his ass kicked by Ryu, so Idia corrects;]
In the game, I mean. Same style. Ryu's the protag here so he has to come out on top, but you get it.
You were playing him the other night, right? When Seras was playing, uh, Cammy.
[he points with his chopsticks at Fei Long, though;]
That guy looks like the guy who put that fighting style on the map back in the day. Bruce Lee. Total legend of a martial artist.
Vicious'd talk your ears off about his movies, if he were here.
[it's the same reason he doesn't really mind listening to Idia do it. yeah, they were weird. yeah, they were talking too much. but they knew what they were talking about. they knew more than anyone else about what they were talking about, sometimes. and Fearless had learned more from either of them than most anyone else.]
[ ... He remembers both of their picks. People don't usually make it a habit of remembering the games he plays, let alone the details. Pair that with the fact that all these months he's low-key thought Fearless was making fun of him for his interests, couldn't really get on that level. It's... hm!
Idia's quiet for a second, feeling through the questions that are piling up. When did he start caring about that? Is this Vicious guy, like, his only friend? Does it matter?]
Are those the movies you've seen? Or did you just get the infodump?
once they'd joined the syndicate, they'd suddenly found themselves with more money. a little bit more time. or rather, time they'd suddenly rather spend doing anything but thinking about work. until, eventually, work was the only thing Vicious really did think about.]
But, uh, y'know. I'm sure they've got 'em here, somewhere, if you wanna catch 'em.
[Idia retrieves his phone to commit that to a running notes*pp list. All of the things that he and Seras have talked about watching or playing together are here; the list with him and Fearless is increasing day by day.]
You can be the one to talk my ear off now! Uh, not like you asked for that from me.
[That comes free with the territory. Like a bonus that sucks!]
but he's learning, whether he wants to or not, that while this might feel familiar, it's not the same. it's something new, unique, and it's fine to be that way. a new melody with a similar, but different, leitmotif.
but he does like the song.]
Shut up.
[he shoves Idia's shoulder, gentler than he would with Nanami or Greed, of course.]
[This feels like something he's missed all his life, some familiar phantom figure that's playful and teasing. Warm. It's something he doesn't think consciously about as it happens, just feels a strange pang at the back of his chest, the negative space around a larger feeling. It makes him laugh, actually. It makes him nudge Fearless back.]
She's allowed!
[An honor and a privilege that she has such poor taste. Some might call that lucky.]
[oh, things are getting serious now, huh? Fearless leans away to put his noodles down, which at first he makes a big show out of being definitely just so that he can grab a napkin and wipe his hands and mouth for.]
Oh, yeah, cos the rules don't apply to her, yeah.
I gotcha.
[fair and valid. Fearless reaches over to grab his drink, takes a sip, and—]
but, uh, the thing is—
[he scrunches up his face—]
I don't really care about rules.
[this is Idia's only warning that something is about to go down.]
[As you can imagine, this is all going over Idia's head. Sailing so far over that these cues might as well be in a different room. If something feels off, different, it's because something always feels abnormal when you live in this body.
Idia rolls his eyes.]
I don't make the rules, I just call it like I see it. Maybe if you--
[And so he blabs. Would be a shame (?) if something were to stop him.]
[maybe if he what? the world may never know, because Fearless doesn't let Idia finish. he leans over, takes Idia's cheek in his palm like it's as simple as reaching over to fix Idia's shirt, and leans in to kiss his stupid blue lips, gentle but insistent. just to see what all the hype is about.]
[The last of Idia's words are a hum against Fearless' lips before it dies out completely. He's-- kissing him. He's being kissed. Did... did he skip a scene? Is he holding his breath? Idia feels like he must be, like all of these questions are piling up with nowhere to go, not when someone's mouth is slotted against his. No, not just someone. That thought brings about new questions. All he can do is sit there, body completely frozen, uncertain of itself.
Just when it might feel to Fearless like this is a futile venture, like Idia might just sit there like a stiff-- that's when he slowly, slowly presses forward. Lets his eyes finally slip shut.]
[there is a moment where Fearless starts to wonder, starts to doubt, to think— but Idia presses against him, and Fearless forgets that worry. it's replaced with a need to be closer, to cup Idia's other cheek with his free hand, too.
this is what he wanted. but how long has he wanted this? had Seras's feelings bled into him, or were these always his own? those were questions for later. he kisses Idia a moment longer— and when he pulls away, it isn't far.]
[that feeling caught in his throat slips away as Fearless takes Idia's face into his palms. he can count the people who have touched him like this on one hand. this is different in a lot of ways that his mind is too hazy to count. most notably, Fearless' hands aren't soft, but they hold him gently. they're careful but certain; he does exactly what he means to. this is something he means to do.
Idia sighs against his mouth. he can feel it ghost against Fearless' lips when he pulls away just enough. now that he can say something, Idia doesnt know what. so he stays close.]
Uh... [wow-- "uh"? Idia screws his eyes more tightly shut.] Did I miss something?
Fearless isn't some blushing virgin, doesn't really get all flustered when he might be wrong, but he does still sort of clam up. hesitant, quiet. his brow creases.]
I— I dunno.
Probably?
[probably? no, definitely.
how could Idia have noticed anything when it all stays locked in Fearless's head?]
[is it a good or a bad sign that Idia is still inches away from Fearless' face? probably more like that pretty long face of his is still being held... but it's not like he's pulling away. it's not like his body isn't poised toward him, nearly touching.
in fact the stumbling from someone else, someone who usually exhibits a certain self-assuredness, is all it takes for Idia to open his eyes. glance at the concern etched across Fearless' face.]
... Probably?
[so this is what "probable" looks like to him. interesting.]
[one of Fearless's hands trails down, catches at the end of Idia's hair as it falls. it's strange to him that it just kind of feels like hair, huh. everything that seems so mystifying about Idia is pretty tangible, in the end.]
I think I did, too.
[he missed the part where he put the math together, he thinks. but now that he looks back at it, the logic is all there, for him.
he pats Idia's cheek, that kind of absent look in his eyes easing away.]
[oh, Idia recognizes this. the pattern that Fearless falls into in his fights (in conversations, Idia began to realize) where he lets a little uncertainty get the better of him. this situation throws him for a loop, but behavior like that-- it's information to latch onto, almost grounding.
he doesn't move away. in fact, he very intentionally stays close.]
[Fearless is pretty good at being emotionally unaffected. he isn't even harboring some secret deep resentment about this. as far as he thinks, he's taking every vibe as it comes at him.
but he's also used to being right. he's used to, at least, thinking he's right about what he perceives. he is always correct about the reality he lives in.
it's not very often that someone else forces him to confront their reality in contrast with his.
so Fearless just kind of halts, like a cat that's seen something no one else can see in the room, dark eyes trained unmoving on Idia's face.]
Ehn— I—
...no.
[he acknowledges.
but his brow scrunches again, because he's very aware suddenly that he doesn't actually know what's happening. what he should say next.]
[that makes two of them. Idia doesn't have the guide for this, didn't even recognize the flags. like, since when did Fearless-- never mind.]
Yeah. Exactly. [if there's one thing he's not going to be tonight, it's a mouthpiece for some other guy's assumptions. he's had about enough of that here. Idia's quiet for a second, gaze flitting across Fearless' face.] Just-- give me a second.
[there's an implication that he might leave or at least turn away. Idia doesn't do that. Idia stays right where he is, staring thoughtfully at the corner of Fearless' mouth like he might burn a hole in it. he doesn't say a thing, doesn't hum. if his hair didn't flicker, it might seem like the whole situation was on pause.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Idia zones out for a moment and notices that their legs are nearly touching. Fearless has never minded this sort of thing, but contact is something Idia struggles with. Still does, even if Seras has opened that previously sealed-up door a little wider. There are rules to these things that he doesn't know, never had much practical experience with. Shrouds aren't touchy people. Idia least among them.
When did they become like this? When did Fearless go from a dreaded presence to someone he looks forward to seeing? He's reacting to all the right parts, walking with him in this space that he doesn't think many people can inhabit. And here he's...
Idia returns his attention to the movie. Man, whatever's going on in his brain is totally dissonant from animated violence. He fiddles with the string of his hoodie, not sure how to hold himself.]
... He moves like you do.
[Fei Long, that is. He's about to get his ass kicked by Ryu, so Idia corrects;]
In the game, I mean. Same style. Ryu's the protag here so he has to come out on top, but you get it.
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You were playing him the other night, right? When Seras was playing, uh, Cammy.
[he points with his chopsticks at Fei Long, though;]
That guy looks like the guy who put that fighting style on the map back in the day. Bruce Lee. Total legend of a martial artist.
Vicious'd talk your ears off about his movies, if he were here.
[it's the same reason he doesn't really mind listening to Idia do it. yeah, they were weird. yeah, they were talking too much. but they knew what they were talking about. they knew more than anyone else about what they were talking about, sometimes. and Fearless had learned more from either of them than most anyone else.]
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[ ... He remembers both of their picks. People don't usually make it a habit of remembering the games he plays, let alone the details. Pair that with the fact that all these months he's low-key thought Fearless was making fun of him for his interests, couldn't really get on that level. It's... hm!
Idia's quiet for a second, feeling through the questions that are piling up. When did he start caring about that? Is this Vicious guy, like, his only friend? Does it matter?]
Are those the movies you've seen? Or did you just get the infodump?
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[after things had changed.
once they'd joined the syndicate, they'd suddenly found themselves with more money. a little bit more time. or rather, time they'd suddenly rather spend doing anything but thinking about work. until, eventually, work was the only thing Vicious really did think about.]
But, uh, y'know. I'm sure they've got 'em here, somewhere, if you wanna catch 'em.
Enter the Dragon, Game of Death... easy pulls.
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[Idia retrieves his phone to commit that to a running notes*pp list. All of the things that he and Seras have talked about watching or playing together are here; the list with him and Fearless is increasing day by day.]
You can be the one to talk my ear off now! Uh, not like you asked for that from me.
[That comes free with the territory. Like a bonus that sucks!]
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No, no, I'm used to it.
Free commentary on every flick.
Part of the selling point, if you ask me.
[it's fine if he flirts with Seras's boyfriend. he flirts with everyone, practically.]
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I don't know if that's a dig or not...
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No, it's, uh.
[he gestures with his chopsticks, but the motion seems to mean absolutely fucking nothing.]
I'm into it.
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Now I know it's a dig.
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[that was a dig, judging by how hard Fearless is grinning]
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[Like, seriously, his taste is awful. But he can be taught! That's why Fearless needs this-- it's culture.]
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but he's learning, whether he wants to or not, that while this might feel familiar, it's not the same. it's something new, unique, and it's fine to be that way. a new melody with a similar, but different, leitmotif.
but he does like the song.]
Shut up.
[he shoves Idia's shoulder, gentler than he would with Nanami or Greed, of course.]
That's Seras's taste you're calling bad, too, y'know.
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She's allowed!
[An honor and a privilege that she has such poor taste. Some might call that lucky.]
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Oh, yeah, cos the rules don't apply to her, yeah.
I gotcha.
[fair and valid. Fearless reaches over to grab his drink, takes a sip, and—]
but, uh, the thing is—
[he scrunches up his face—]
I don't really care about rules.
[this is Idia's only warning that something is about to go down.]
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Idia rolls his eyes.]
I don't make the rules, I just call it like I see it. Maybe if you--
[And so he blabs. Would be a shame (?) if something were to stop him.]
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Just when it might feel to Fearless like this is a futile venture, like Idia might just sit there like a stiff-- that's when he slowly, slowly presses forward. Lets his eyes finally slip shut.]
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this is what he wanted. but how long has he wanted this? had Seras's feelings bled into him, or were these always his own? those were questions for later. he kisses Idia a moment longer— and when he pulls away, it isn't far.]
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Idia sighs against his mouth. he can feel it ghost against Fearless' lips when he pulls away just enough. now that he can say something, Idia doesnt know what. so he stays close.]
Uh... [wow-- "uh"? Idia screws his eyes more tightly shut.] Did I miss something?
[like, for example, why is this kind of a rush?]
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Fearless isn't some blushing virgin, doesn't really get all flustered when he might be wrong, but he does still sort of clam up. hesitant, quiet. his brow creases.]
I— I dunno.
Probably?
[probably? no, definitely.
how could Idia have noticed anything when it all stays locked in Fearless's head?]
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in fact the stumbling from someone else, someone who usually exhibits a certain self-assuredness, is all it takes for Idia to open his eyes. glance at the concern etched across Fearless' face.]
... Probably?
[so this is what "probable" looks like to him. interesting.]
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[one of Fearless's hands trails down, catches at the end of Idia's hair as it falls. it's strange to him that it just kind of feels like hair, huh. everything that seems so mystifying about Idia is pretty tangible, in the end.]
I think I did, too.
[he missed the part where he put the math together, he thinks. but now that he looks back at it, the logic is all there, for him.
he pats Idia's cheek, that kind of absent look in his eyes easing away.]
I'm not really an apologies guy, though, so.
Have fun with that.
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he doesn't move away. in fact, he very intentionally stays close.]
Did I ask?
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but he's also used to being right. he's used to, at least, thinking he's right about what he perceives. he is always correct about the reality he lives in.
it's not very often that someone else forces him to confront their reality in contrast with his.
so Fearless just kind of halts, like a cat that's seen something no one else can see in the room, dark eyes trained unmoving on Idia's face.]
Ehn— I—
...no.
[he acknowledges.
but his brow scrunches again, because he's very aware suddenly that he doesn't actually know what's happening. what he should say next.]
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Yeah. Exactly. [if there's one thing he's not going to be tonight, it's a mouthpiece for some other guy's assumptions. he's had about enough of that here. Idia's quiet for a second, gaze flitting across Fearless' face.] Just-- give me a second.
[there's an implication that he might leave or at least turn away. Idia doesn't do that. Idia stays right where he is, staring thoughtfully at the corner of Fearless' mouth like he might burn a hole in it. he doesn't say a thing, doesn't hum. if his hair didn't flicker, it might seem like the whole situation was on pause.]
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