prohibitions | When love became an act of defiance

Jonathan's heart sank at the sight he's met with. He's quick to make his way over to the other, not at all minding if he got wet from the shower water. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans compared to his usual formal wear anyway. However, he does tug out his wallet, keys and his phone and set them on the sink counter before kneeling in front of Abel.

"H-Hey... you're gonna be okay..." He reaches out to gently run cup the other's cheek, his touch light and gentle with worry etched on his face, "It'll be okay... I'm here...you're safe."

Jonathan notes Abel's shallow breathing and his injuries, looking over his hands, his arms and the bruises. He knew first aid to a degree but he also didn't know what caused this sort of reaction in the first place.

He knows the other would probably hate for him to see him like this; that is if he'll even remember that this was even happening. If he does, well, he'll just add it to the secrets he's kept like how Abel was like when he was sleepy and not fully awake for instance. Never to be mentioned.

"What did he do to you...?" He mutters to himself, taking a wild guess that Abel's father was responsible for this like the other times. Abel was never hurt like this unless it was after meetings with that man. Jonathan moves to stand, somewhat a little drenched himself as he moves to the cabinets to look for a first aid kit. It took a bit of effort to find everything that he needed, he even had to run his own bathroom for the kit he had there.

Before he had left the bathroom for his own, he had grabbed his phone and called his mother. Apologizing that he wouldn't be able to make it back due to what had happened with Abel, though he does ask for advice on a few things while he shuffled around for clean towels and a dry set of clothes for the other.

She runs him through everything that he needed to know and wished him luck and to call again if he needed to. When he comes back into the bathroom, he sets the towels and clothes on the counter with the rest of his stuff before kneeling in front of the other again, "I'm gonna clean you up a bit, okay? Get you patched up..." He says softly as he held one of the washcloths in his hand, adding a bit of soap and lathering it up while he had the shower still running.

Jonathan takes one of Abel's hands, his hold gentle, "This is gonna hurt a bit..." He says as he tries to clean the cuts on his hands and his arms.

He flinches a bit when the presses a hand to his cheek. Abel goes completely still for a moment, as though his mind was trying to process whether or not the other was a threat to his already fragile being. Eventually, he seems to relax, although his reactions still seemed rather subdued.

Jonathan doesn't receive an answer to his question. Or anything he says for that matter. Just continues to lay there on the floor of the shower stall.

It takes a bit of time for Abel's breathing to even out and he seems heart rate seems to slow down. It takes even longer before the other seems to respond to the other. Jonathan is well into tending to his injuries when he finally speaks up. His voice is hoarse from screaming and he sounds weary. "You were supposed to be off," he says. "Why are you here?" There's no temper or bite to his words. He just seemed too exhausted to muster any amount of fight towards the other.

Abel doesn't get up from where he's laying. He's just looking at the other carefully. Almost suspiciously. Like a wounded animal.

He almost pulls his hand away at the flinch, letting the touch linger a bit before he had pulled away. He also wasn't expecting the other to answer to another him right away, it just made him feel better to say what he was about to do to before he did it. There needed to patience on his part while he let Abel calm down and relax on his own.

The shower was turned off after he had gotten the other cleaned up, having grabbed a dry towel, he wiped down the other's hands and arms before he brought both kits closer and started to patch up the other wounds.

Jonathan looked completely focused in the task, humming a soft melody as he went as something it fill the quiet space with, besides the sound of water droplets. When Abel finally spoke, he glances up at the other for a moment before his gaze dropped.

"I forgot something and I came back to get it..." He pauses, grabbing some medical tape and more gauze, "... you didn't slam the door like you usually did and when I was about to leave, I noticed you left it open." He says as he finished wrapping the other's hands and arms in bandages.

"I... could smell the blood and I came to see if you we're okay..." Of course, the other was very much far from okay but he couldn't just leave without knowing the other's condition. He may be more of a valet than a bodyguard but habits and training were hard to break. He knows the beginning of that sounds strange but he's already accepted that today he might just reveal that part of himself to Abel. Its not something he's totally looking forward to because its not accepted by most and it very well might end this job for him if the other was scared by it.

After he got the other squared away and bandaged, he looked over his handiwork before he suggested the next step, "I am going to need to get you to sit up or on your feet though... to get you out of those soaked clothes and into some dryer ones. Otherwise, you might catch a cold."

"My door." He lifts his head a little to glance around him before letting it drop back against the tile. Right, he finally takes in his setting. He's in his bathroom looking like an absolute embarrassment on the floor. Wonderful. "I pushed a button too many." And he knows this never stops him from doing it again despite how awfully he takes this whenever it happens.

Abel doesn't seem to make any indication about questioning the other about smelling it. Honestly, it mattered very little to him what the other was, but he was used to the idea of others being supernatural in some way. His family line was old blood when it came to magic and it had been pure for awhile.

He sighs and struggles to push himself up into a sitting positions. His arms shake and there's a dull ache that was becoming more noticeable now that he was more conscious of everything. "Getting sick would probably be the least awful thing that happens today." Being sick is probably nothing to the amount of mental hell his mind was experiencing. "Damn did I put myself in the bloody wringer."

"You left bloody marks on the way to your bathroom... which we'll have to clean later so they don't end up staining the walls." He adds softly, he's not about to reveal the worry he felt before he found him in the shower. "But also this has happened before... wouldn't it be easier not to push so much?" Jonathan asks honestly, if the consequences were this bad nearly every time, wouldn't one know when to be the higher man and stop before it went that far?

Though, if he was in Abel's shoes, he shouldn't be one to talk because he'd probably be the same. He was too emotional and that tended to get the best of him sometimes; especially in situations where he should be in control of himself.

As Abel tries to sit up, he quickly reaches out to help, hoping the other wouldn't push him away. He's seen plenty of proud people at their lowest, usually when no one was around to see them in such a way for personal reasons or for image's sake. This was no different. Others might see that as a chance to wrong a person or get further under their skin but Jonathan was raised to be better than that.

"Do you... want to talk about it?" He asks before he gets to his feet and grabs one of the larger towels and the stack of lounge clothes that he had to dig for in Abel's room. He kneels in front of the other, draping the towel over the other's head and lightly ruffles it to dry the other's hair somewhat.

"I'll deal with it," Abel says dismissively. The convenience of magic and all. He's not worried at all about the mess he made because he can always clean it up.

At the other asks the question he just shrugs a bit at that. "I don't mind the physical altercations. I was never very good at being an obedient dog for my father. Why do you think he hired you or anyone before you? He wanted someone to keep me in line. Keep me in my place. It was never for my safety," Abel says with a humorless laugh. "There's a difference between fighting and being punished though. Today just happened to be the latter."

Abel doesn't have the energy to push the other away. Instead, he kind of just sighs a little. "Talk about what? My father and I don't get along and now I have daddy issues?" Well, at least the other's personality was intact at least. There's that. "Look, if you have questions then just spit them out. I know what's on your mind and at this point, I might as well answer them."

"I don't mind cleaning it up... honestly." He somewhat suggests, its not like it would be too much trouble. Sure, it would only take a matter of seconds for Abel to take care of it but he's been through a lot today and another task for him wouldn't be the end of the world.

As Abel speaks, it only makes for more questions but it also makes him dislike the other's father even more. He furrows his brows as the other states that he didn't mind the altercations, it didn't seem like a great thing to make a habit of. How his father expected his son to be completely complaisant with everything he wanted was selfish.

"My folks always said its better to vent when you need to, ya'know? Better to let it out then keep it bottled up." He says. Jonathan considers himself rather lucky to have the loving and supporting family that he does, it left for another perspective in dealing with certain things.

He pulls the towel off the other's head and sets it on his lap before he reaches for Abel's wrist, tapping the one of the cuffs that he wore. If the other was going to finally answer him were burning questions were concerned, he might as well start with this.

"What exactly are these? I've noticed its something you never take off and I tried to get my parents to look into some of the engravings but they've only given me a handful of information that only makes me more curious about them." He gently lets go of the other's arm before sort of gestures to the other's soaked vest as if asking for permission to help Abel out of his soaked attire.

"You've seen me utterly destroy my room a few times now. I thought that was venting enough," he says with a shrug. "There isn't much to say. I've been given a shoddy lot in life and you make do with it as you do." He's one for venting and airing out dirty laundry, but he feels like it won't really make him feel any better.

Abel glances down at his wrists. "Magic suppressors. They limit my magic and force restrictions on me. After all, you can't make someone obey unless you leash them, right?" The words drip like venom; his tone resentful. "Particulars include limitations on using magic in an offensive manner and I can't use any magic against my father. They don't quite work, but that's less on the suppressors but because my magic capacity is that high." Of course, that just means there's a lot of backlash or discharge, but that definitely hasn't stopped him from retaliating against his father.

He gives a rather noncommittal response to the other about his clothes. Honestly, him trying to undress himself would just be an embarrassing struggle. His fingers are far from dexterous at the moment with how he had fucked up his fingers.

Jonathan tilts his head in a little shrug of his own because the other wasn't wrong that that wasn't venting. Perhaps he was just so used to verbal venting over physical venting, though his family expressed physical venting way differently than others. Giving long hours in a training room rather than being destructive elsewhere.

He's quiet when Abel explains. Abel was pretty much like a dog with a muzzle, fighting back regardless of it. It a rather sad existence, really. Being at the mercy of one's father in a gilded cage.

The fact that the cuffs were suppressors answered a lot. It would explain the burn scars on the other's forearms; the ones on his fingers he figured could also have been caused by it but then the other's smoking habit out-ruled it.

Its almost like his father made them to protect himself. With all the information that man provided in Abel's file, he'd know most of the other's capabilities and a man of that kind of status will always look out for his own hide.

"Have you ever tried to take them off?" He asks as he reaches forward to unbutton the other's vest and tugging it off gently, making a stack on the floor, before he moved on to unbutton his shirt next. The soaked material took a little more effort to get off but it eventually made its way into the pile.

The towel made its return as he dried Abel down and pulled over one of his own t-shirts over his head and helped his arms through; it was a soft material that was black with one of his sister's geometrical designs. The real benefit of one half of the family being designers is the inevitable stack of free clothes they give you for model it for them.

That would imply that Abel has any means to vent in a healthy manner. Or have hobbies.

"Of course. As if my father didn't make sure to make precautions to insure I couldn't remove them." His father hated and was disgusted with him. The man, however, also feared Abel.

There were more burn and cut scars on Abel's body, although far less than his forearms with the exception of Abel's back. There were many long scars on Abel's back that can easily be assumed to be lashing. They don't quite fill the man's back which could easily imply that there he had received them when he was smaller in stature. It made it easy to guess that Abel and his father's relationship being volatile is a long and old affair.

Abel seems to examined the shirt put on him for a moment. "Never worn a t-shirt before."

To know that Abel has tried to remove the cuffs with no success at all, makes him wonder if there was a way to remove them without it needing to be his father to do it. Definitely something to look into later when he has the time.

As he was drying off Abel, he notices more of the scars but it wasn't until he had gotten up and maneuvered closer to dry off the other's back that his heart dropped again. The other probably felt it in the way his hands stop or the gentle glide of his fingertips over one of the scars before he shook his head and remembered the task at hand.

Hell, Abel could probably taste the mix of sadness and anger from the him. How could one be so cruel to their own?

Once he was sitting in front of the other again, the towel made its way back into his lap.

Jonathan is a little taken aback by the comment that this was the first time with Abel wearing a t-shirt, "Seriously?" Granted he's only ever seen the man in formal wear the entire time that he's been here including when the other slept. Still, it surprises him.

"My sisters are fashion designers, along with one of my fathers, this was a design from one of their street wear collections." He comments with a smile. He may be the baby of the family, for now at least, but he was immensely proud of his older siblings.

"For the next part, do you want me to get you onto your feet and you just brace yourself on me or do you want to go about it differently?" Jonathan asks, some might find needing help with this to be humiliating so he wanted to go about it in a way Abel was most comfortable with.

It's not a very pleasing taste. It's a mix of bitter and hot and he isn't very fond of it. The way the other pauses and then runs a finger in a line is also telling enough. "Aren't you not supposed to get attached to your job like this? I'm not even your client." Technically speaking. "Seems like it would be troublesome if you got emotionally attached to everyone you're employed to."

Perhaps he's teasing the other or maybe he's giving a vague reminder that the other shouldn't get too fond of him.

"Did I stutter?" The other could go through his entire wardrobe if he really was doubtful. "Never worn one. I dressed pretty formally even as a kid. Maybe I wore one as a baby, but I can't say."

Abel looks rather puzzled as he talks about his family. Familial love, or love in any capacity, was just a foreign concept to him. "One of your fathers?" A curious question. Did his parents divorce and remarry and he got along with them? Well, the other seemed certainly happy about his family and he honestly couldn't relate. He lovd his brother, but their face to face interactions were very limited. Either his brother was very busy or his father was purposely isolating him from the other. Who knows.

"My hands are fucked up, not my feet," Abel says. "I can walk." He certainly made it all the way back to his room with no problem, it seems.

Jonathan flashes a smile at that. "Technically, you'd be right. Had I been hired as solely as your bodyguard instead of your valet, this might've been different. Had my contract with your father been shorter than what it is, this would've been different." He pauses. There were a lot of factors that could have played differently to make their relationship very different than it was and yet this is how it ended up being. "On my longer contracts, the ones that span months or even years, are the ones I have a tendency to get too attached with, well, depending on the client that is."

He's gotten plenty attached before which made goodbyes harder. Wealthy families with kids to protect were a weakness for him because the children or the teens were quick to attach to him than vice-versa. It rose the stakes, certainly, but it also meant people were easier to put their trust in you.

The fact that he was already emotionally attached to Abel could be easily figured out at this point. He didn't bother to hide it anymore but he also wasn't going to explicitly say that he was.

"Guess that means sweatpants are going to be a first for you too then." He picks up the next article of clothing he needed to help Abel into before setting it down again.

Jonathan smiles at the question as he rubs at the back of his neck since now he had to explain his family's strange relationship for the first time. He raises up a hand with his fingers indicating four, "I have two fathers and two mothers. They are in a quad-poly marriage sort of relationship with each other, always have been since the met sometime after college."

He drops his hand and stares at his lap for a few moments, "Its not a typical way to raise a family but they've always made it work somehow. Even when half of us work the life-threatening sort of job." There was always worry on that front, whether the pair of his parents, his older brothers or him would end up severely injured or worse. He could go on about his family but he wasn't about to bore Abel with his family history if the other didn't want to know more about it.

He raises his head to look up at the other, "Up you go then." He knew he didn't need to worry if the other could walk or not, he simply meant if he needed up changing was all before they could leave the bathroom.

"You're just setting yourself up for heartbreak, you know." Because Abel can only assume that nothing good will come of this. Getting attached to him never had happy endings and he has always assumed their relationship in any capacity was temporary.

He just didn't think there was any real happy ending at the end of it all. There was never a reason to think there was. Maybe it was pessimistic, but he was already in his thirties and nothing has changed in his life to make him think otherwise.

Abel seems curious about Jonathan's family life though. Multiple parents and siblings. Logically, he understood. Emotionally though. "Well, it's not as though I know what typical was like. The staff raised me." His mother and him were close when he was a child, but he hadn't seen her in decades. His father won't let him. He definitely isn't one who can knock someone's familial life down when his was far from functional.

He moves to get to his feet. His arms ached along with his hands, but getting to his feet is a bit easier when he doesn't have to put most of his weight on his hands this time.

"I know. It's something I'll have to deal with when the time comes but for now, you're stuck with me." There's a playful smile and a bit of a shrug. Heartbreak was painful to deal with, despite that, he planned to stay until his contract was up and heal afterwards. Its nothing he hasn't done before.

"They care a lot about you." He chimes in with. Having the staff raise you just meant more people cared for you, if they were there since day one. From his observations thus far, it seemed that way at least.

Jonathan went through the motions. Stripping Abel of his soaked pants, drying him off and helping him into sweatpants before leaving a folded stack of Abel's clothes in the shower stall before standing and trying to figure out where to hang the wet towel in his hands.

Now it was just him in a soaking pair of clothes instead. Seeing the other in something other than his usual formal wear took a bit of adjustment but he smiles nonetheless.

"They don't look half bad on you. Hopefully, they're more comfortable than your usual?" Jonathan ended up draping the towel over the nearest object that would allow it before he grabbed the first aid kits and took his own along with his belongings, tucking the kit under his arm as he looked at the other before gesturing to the bathroom door for Abel to walk out first.

He still had a question to ask, just one, though he figures he would ask it later.

Really though, who's going to be heartbroken. Jonathan or the man who'll still be stuck in his cage after the other leaves for whatever reason. "You really are a dumb dog," Abel says with a bit of a snort. His tone seems fond though. Like the other had finally managed to get passed those walls the other had put between them. Although, he still called the other a dumb dog.

"I suppose," he says. It isn't that he doesn't appreciate it, but there's just something about seeing how your own father looks at you and his thoughts that really changes how you feel. That, and he has heard the thoughts of the staff too.

He looks over the clothes that he was now wearing before tugging the pants up a bit. "You do realize these don't fit, yes?" Which is to say, they sit pretty low on Abel's hips and his t-shirt was a bit big on the slender man too. He looks at the other with raised eyebrows.

He follows the other out of the bathroom, pant legs dragging across the floor. Despite not being particularly tiny, Jonathan's clothes made him look smaller

As much as he hated the 'dumb dog' thing, as long as it didn't sound like an insult like it had been the first time Abel said it, he doesn't quite mind it now. Either way, this felt like progress after months of patient waiting, even though it took something like this to make it happen.

Jonathan doesn't comment again on the subject of the staff caring. Abel would know what happened in the estate, thoughts and all so really what looks like one thing to him, may be something else to the other.

Okay, now that he looks the other over again, Abel does look like he's practically swimming in his borrowed clothes. "I... may have overestimated that fact." He rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand.

There wasn't much he could do in terms of making the shirt fit better but for the sweatpants, tying them and rolling up the legs might work. Once back in Abel's room, he looks back at the other, catching the legs of the pants dragging along the floor.

Jonathan chuckles a bit before he stops and turns around fully, "Stop... lets make this easier on you." He walks over to the other, setting down his stuff on the floor as he kneels down in front of him to tie the strings at the waist, making it tighter and not so much a struggle to keep up. Before he turns his attention to the pant legs and rolls each side up a bit past the ankle.

"Feel better?" He asks, not quite standing up just yet until Abel commented on the fit. Collecting his things, he tilts his head a little, "Did you want company for the rest of the day or did you want me to leave you alone?" An honest question so he knew what to do now. Whether to retire to his room for the remainder or to go change and stick around as support for the other.

Abel gives the other a bit of a look. Their height difference was noticeable and he was built much thinner than the other. He supposes the other wasn't thinking about it and just wanting him out of his wet clothes and into some new, dry clothes. He's sure he has pajamas though. Somewhere... He knows he at least owns sleepwear.

"It's odd. Wearing these things." Maybe because he normally doesn't dress to be comfortable. Not that he didn't find his clothes comfortable. Form fitting and a bit stiff at times, but he did actually enjoy wearing the clothes he owned. He most definitely found them comfortable enough to fall asleep in them. Or maybe he's just that tired and unwillingly to put the effort to change.

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he mulls over Jonathan's question. What did he want? His impulse is to tell the other he's free to leave. He had given them the next few days off technically. On the other hand, was that what he wanted?

"I don't know," he admits after a moment. He glances around the room; raising his hand and cleaning all the blood away. He winces though as his hand shakes a bit. Moving his hands and fingers stung and it was difficult to move them. He'll have to heal them when his body can muster them or the next few days to weeks was going to be an absolute nightmare to get through.

"I'm sure you'll get used to it in time." While he's not entirely sure the other would since their wardrobes were very different and unlikely to change. Jonathan does give the other a sympathetic look as he waits for his decision, watching the other's hand shake and that wince of pain as he tried to use his hands.

"I'll come back then. I have something to show you anyway..." He ducks his head for a moment then looks over at the door, "Though... please don't be too spooked by it." He flashes a smile as he turns his attention back to Abel, "My folks used to do a similar method when we weren't having a very good day and it helped so... plus you've answered most of my questions. Seems only fair. "

Jonathan starts walking backwards in the direction of the door joining their rooms, "Be back in a few."

Once he's on the other side of the door, back pressed against it, he lets out a deep sigh. While shifting was a mostly painless transformation, it was still uncomfortable. He vastly preferred partials over full shifts anyway.

Walking over to the table, he sets down his belongings along with the medical kit before trying to find some paper and tape. There were still several hours before dinner time and while he decided to reveal his secret to Abel, he wasn't about to let that fact be known by the staff.

Thus, he writes out two separate signs; one he places on his door that read, Please leave dinner on the table., and a second on the table itself that read, Please knock on the door. We'll know dinner is here; Do not disturb further.

Jonathan's room was quieter than usual because he had taken Beau and Kiwi with him and they were currently in a cage at his parent's house. He heads towards his own bathroom, stripping out of his own soaked clothes and left them in a similar fashion as he had done with Abel's. The next series of minutes involved stretching and concentration.

Bones cracked and changed, fur replaced hair, teeth and nails grew longer. Instead of a very human figure standing in the bathroom, a bipedal, easily a couple of feet taller, werehyena stood in its place. A bit fluffier than its real wild animal counterpart and in his case, he's sort of a hybrid between the spotted and the striped due to his family's genetics.

Now, getting through doors was... a bit of a struggle. Compared to how wide and tall the doors were at his parent's or the fact that he never fully shifted at his own apartment left this as a bit of an ungraceful sort of thing.

He still kept his consciousness, so while he couldn't talk in this form, he still kept who he was; unlike the tales of werewolves who lose control on full moons. That logic didn't apply to most werecreatures. Jonathan huffs a breath before he knocks and opens the door, shuffling his way back inside Abel's room. Once clear of the door frame, he drops down to his hands so he didn't appear as tall as he gauges Abel's reaction to him.

By the time Jonathan returns, Abel had cleaned up all the blood on the walls and doors. He's no longer in the bedroom and has moved to the study of his room. The man was looking out one of the large windows in his study with a cigarette lit between his fingers. His hands shook a bit, but he seemed to ignore it as he took a drag from the cigarette.

He was using his other hand to lift the drapes to look out; almost like he was peaking out into a world he couldn't ever be apart of. It was a bit sad.

Abel turns away though and lets the drapes fall when he turns to face the other. He doesn't say anything for a moment. "Ah. This is why you got quite cross with me when I insulted you on the first day," he merely replies with.

For Abel, he has dealt with plenty of supernatural beings. His father, after all, was a successful and well known politician within the community. He had known that the other was different but he couldn't pin point the exacts nor was he actually the kind to snoop. He picked up thoughts naturally, but that wasn't really something he did on purpose nor was these kind of things really his business.

"Here I thought you were going to reveal something grievous." He took another drag from his cigarette. "My family is well known in the supernatural community, so I'm rather familiar with your kind amongst others. I can't say that I'm particularly spooked, sorry darling." But maybe that's relieving for Jonathan more than anything. The other kind of dismissing it and treating the other as he normally would.

"You're going to have to be a bit more blunt as to how this will help me though." Abel has never had any positive or therapeutic options to handle what he went through. He merely put bandaids on them and learned to bear and weather the trauma.

When Jonathan didn't immediately spot Abel in the bedroom, he made his way towards the study. He was oddly quiet for his size but he simply waits, siting down as he watches Abel look out the window.

One day... he hopes to get Abel out of here. Its a long off dream, one that may never happen but the other deserved a chance at an actual life that he enjoyed instead this gilded cage his father has kept him in.

There was a tense moment once Abel turned to face him, he lowers his head a little before tilting it slightly at the comment.

You weren't the first but it is the main reason why I dislike it so... when its used as purely an insult, of course.

As Abel explains his familiarity with his kind and others, it slowly calms his nerves.

Jonathan lets out a deep breath, one that he had been holding since he found the other, visually relaxing. It was a huge relief that Abel wasn't treating him differently nor that this form spooked him. He'd done something similar with someone else but the reaction was less than pleasant thus the source of his worry.

How he came across the listing for this job was just happenstance. He knew of Abel's father by name only, not really having a heart for politics but under the advice of his mother, he was recommended. And he's almost glad that he decided to accept this, otherwise, he may have never met Abel. Someone else could've easily been in his place, perhaps never finding the other in the state that he was in, leaving Abel to go through the motions alone.

He tilts his head and motions the other to follow before getting to his feet and turning back into the bedroom.

You'll see.

Jonathan walks towards Abel's bed, sitting in front of it as he pats a spot in front of him. Of course, he was going to ask permission to get up on the bed eventually but for now, he needed Abel at an easier eye level with him.

"I should have kept insulting you, really." Well, it's too late for that, but it would have been better had he. Although, he wonders if it would matter. Jonathan was a stubborn fellow and they didn't seem to care to listen at times. Bullheaded.

They really were a dumb dog.

Abel puts his cigarette out in the ashtray atop his desk and leaves the study room and back into the bedroom. He has an eyebrow raised and a curious expression on his face, but he supposed he'll just follow along. It's not like he's going to get any work done at the moment, and he's curious what the other wants to do.

He takes a seat at the spot the other had patted down. "So?"

You could have... honestly I'm surprised you stopped.

It really wouldn't have made much a difference. He probably would've lost his temper and vented in private but it wouldn't sway him from doing his job. Sticks and stones.

Jonathan very hesitantly holds his hands out in front of him, palms facing up as Abel takes the seat he patted.

Place your hands on top of mine.

He felt the need to be even more gentler than before, probably due to his size in comparison to Abel. Once the other had put his hands on his own, he stares at them for a moment. It really put into perspective just how big he was compared to a human and he's known this fact for awhile, still it amazes him.

With how he had wrapped Abel's injuries on his hands, this might not have the same effect he was going for. Either way, it meant giving the other some sort of therapeutic outlet for once.

Hunching over to the point where Jonathan's head practically hovered over Abel's lap, he lifts the other's hands towards the fluffier part of his neck.

Pet me. If it gets to be too painful, feel free to stop.

He lets go of his hold on the other's hands and lets his arms rest on the bed, almost wrapping his arms around the other. His fur was much softer than his real world counterpart and still smelt of his choice of cologne along with Abel's vanilla.

"Your eyes are always gentle when they look at me. I haven't figured out why exactly that's the case," Abel replies with. He doesn't really understand Jonathan. No amount of reading his thoughts really helps him understand. What did they gain by this? Being kind to him? Following what his father wanted would help him more than assisting his belligerent son. Abel didn't understand what the other could possibly want out of this.

People weren't kind just to be kind, surely.

The older man can't help but laugh a bit. "That's what you want me to do? To pet you?" That sounds a bit silly to him. What was petting the other supposed to do, really? Ignore the fact that he hasn't the slightest clue what is therapeutic and healthy and actually helpful because he's never had such options. "That's supposed to help me somehow?"

He's asking. Seriously.

At first, Jonathan isn't quite sure how to reply to that. He chose to be nice because he was raised to always be kind, even when others were not. There was nothing that Abel's father could provide that would really benefit him. He's worked for powerful people but their influence wouldn't help him advance much outside of being a name of his client list.

Money wasn't a point because he could make the same working for someone else. The job stability, on the other hand, meant he didn't have to jump to another client so soon. Yet, he gave the man none of his loyalty though. That immediately shifted gears months ago. Abel holds those cards now, whether he realizes or not.

I told you before... that you needed a friend.

There were more feelings brewing under the surface for the other man but he hadn't quite realized those yet. The hyena moves his large head to gently headbutt the other's torso, much like how a cat would where they sort of nuzzle afterwards.

Yes. Its a healthier method to deal with trauma, Abel. So... pet me.

People liked to pet animals because it felt nice or it provided some sort of comfort, that's where his thought process was for this. He may not be a smaller animal like dog or a bird, but he was still one.

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