prohibitions | Call Me Out + Overflow

[He glances at his coffee table that's currently covered in bottles.] You certainly had enough time to bring out the arsenal out. I suppose I fibbed a little bit about the state of my well-being.

[In his defense. He didn't really know he was that bad.]

An absolute hero. I'm undeserving of your attention. [He squeezes Rastaban's hand and looks up at the man with a soft smile. An expression that only seems to be reserved for the other.

He takes the draught and makes a bit of a face.] One day, we'll learn how to make draughts that taste good. There has to be a way to make these things taste a bit better than absolutely vile. [He places the empty draught bottle on the table.]

[Rastaban is content to sit and listen patiently to Cain, nonjudgemental of his current state or his bending of the truth of it. While he's holding Cain's hand, there's the movement under the fabric of Rastaban's sleeve as Irene pokes a curious head out, resting on top of Rastaban's hand for a moment before sliding forward onto Cain's, rubbing her head against his wrist. She likes him, he treats her person well, and is the only one who seems to understand Rastaban's value the way she does.

He smiles, taking Cain's other free hand with his own when Cain takes the drought and sets the empty bottle down.]

I had a ... I guess you would call him a friend in school, he was very good at making potions and got very annoyed when people complained about the taste rather than what they could do and how adding a little mint could disrupt the whole careful balance of it.

[Rastaban smiles a bit at the memory. He has few happy memories from school, but that was one of them.]

[Cain glances at Irene and makes a kiss noise at her with a smile before looking back at the other and laughing.]

Just because they're beneficial doesn't mean people can't want something that tastes a little better than sludge. This is why people absolutely adore things that are bad for them. They're delectable. Positively addicting.

[The other had a surprisingly calming presence for him. He feels better even without the other giving him something to help with his raging headache.] You truly are a life saver though. You don't even ask why. You just agree to come here and help. [And that makes him feel guilty because he's nothing but full of secrets and Rastaban is just content with what bits he throws to the other.]

[Cain gets another boop at the kiss noise. Snek kiss. She otherwise rests contentedly stretched across their hands and absorbs their warmth, black scales glittering like little flakes of obsidian.

Rastaban tilts his head to the side at Cain's observation, however, like he can't quite understand why it's something to be praised over.]

You would tell me if I needed to know. You needed help with pain, that's all that mattered.

[How darling. Irene had been a bit of a surprise, but it wasn't so weird to him and much more interesting than anything. She was easy to grow accustomed to. It helped that she's rather quiet.

Oh. He feels absolutely guilty.] You are ridiculously too kind, Rastaban. You've never wondered why I have chronic headaches? [Was the other curious but just content with not knowing? He doesn't get the other sometimes. Too kind. Too sincere. Too honest. A lot of things he isn't.]

Bad luck of genetics amplified by a smoking habit?

[His own were bad luck of genetics, near as he could tell. It probably said a lot about Rastaban that he never questioned where pain came from. It just happened sometimes. That was how life was.]

[He isn't sure if he should question Rastaban's life a bit or just accept that things kind of suck for the both of them in some ways. Either way, he can't help but laugh. He pulls one of his hands (the one that Irene isn't on) away so he can run it through his disheveled hair.

He may as well tell the other. He laughs a little.] The smoking is because of it. [He looks at the other carefully.] I can read minds, y'know. [Well, he knows Rastaban doesn't know. Except now he knows.] You can say I'm a natural at it even.

Oh.

[Rastaban blinks slowly, and there's the knee jerk doubling down of his mental defenses that came with needing them to stay alive. He's quiet, expression blank, while he just mentally digests that information. Does he still trust Cain? Absolutely. Does this ultimately matter? Not really.

Alright then.]

So it's... loud. That's what causes the headaches?

[Rastaban's reactions is relieving and also incredibly anticlimatic. He laughs and it probably sounds ridiculously relieved.]

Ridiculously. I don't- I can't control it, actually. [A laughable thing, he thinks, that he can be done in by his own neurotic mess.] You know how you can hear all the chatter around you at a party? You can't understand what everyone is saying, but it's always there? It's like that, but it's always in your head. Getting in the way of your own thoughts. Incredibly infuriating.

[He thinks about the looks from his parents when they had first found out.] It doesn't bother you?

[Rastaban listens, patient as ever, letting Cain work through what he needs to work through. He's never heard of naturals at mind reading, but there's those who are naturals in that manner in other forms of magic, so why not? Unexpected, surely, but he's too much of an academic for true surprise. It's more interesting than anything else.

And with that same understated anticlimactic tone he also asks.]

Well, are you planning on killing me?

[The snort that Cain makes is so incredibly far from graceful and a rather ugly noise, but he can't help it. He isn't sure if they're asking it seriously or not because it's such a question out of nowhere that he's speechless for a moment.]

Plan on? Heavens no. Bloody hell. I've been courting you for who knows how long. Why would I want to kill you?

[Good god this man is going to kill him if anything.] Also, let's be frank. Irene would kill me before I could tough even a hair on you if I had any intent on snuffing you out.

[Irene bumps Cain. Good boy, having such faith in her. Rastaban just shrugs.]

If you're not intending to kill me then no it doesn't bother me, is what I'm getting at.

[He makes a soft sound at Irene and she curls back fully onto Rastaban's wrist so he can once again bring Cain's hand up to his mouth to kiss it.]

I can try making something better, now that I know where the pain comes from. For next time.

[He's not going to fight Irene. He really would prefer not because she would win or he would feel bad for doing anything to her or something. It's a lose lose situation for Cain no matter how he looks at it.

All the tension in Cain's body just seems to completely leave. It's like a floodgate had been opened and he has never so desperately been happy to hear such words. It wasn't as though many knew about it. Cain practically melts when the other kisses his hand and he can't help but lean forward so he can catch Rastaban's lips with his own.]

Honestly, you've been nothing but perfect. [He presses his forehead to Rastaban's.] I was curious by you. You're a blank slate to me. It was that moment of silence in a sea of noise and I was so bloody intrigued and I pursued you. It was perhaps a flight of fancy at first and then you ensnared me so wonderfully.

Now I'm completely smitten with you. You don't need to make me anything better, darling.

[Rastaban is accustomed to his fair share of secrets. He understands why they exist, why they are kept. He doesn't begrudge Cain even a little but for having this one, though it fills him with such joy to be trusted enough to share in it.]

You have shown me a world I never thought possible. That anyone would ever look at me the way you look at me, that anyone would ever touch me the way you have touched me...

[Rastaban still looks at Cain like something dazzling.]

There is nothing I would not do for you, Cain. Nothing.

[Cain knows that one day. One day he'll spill everything to Rastaban. The other would either accept every terrible secret he had kept away or finally be disgusted and leave, but he knows he will tell the other because he can't simply keep hiding from this man.]

Well, that's merely because I'm not completely blind like most others. They're surely missing out on such a fine specimen, but it really doesn't matter now. I'm not particularly fond of sharing such a beautiful find. I'm nothing less than completely selfish, I'll have you know.

[He laughs gently.]

Then you're going to have to learn some dancing. I'm completely weak to a man who can dance. And not a bloody waltz because I absolutely hate waltzing. Social gathering for decades had taught me that I absolutely abhor the thought of having to waltz.

No waltzing.

[Honestly the idea of dancing at all is more than slightly terrifying for Rastaban, but he'd brave it in an instant for Cain.]

What kind of dancing? That still leaves... a lot.

[For all he knows Cain could be a fan of square dancing.]

I'll waltz if it's with you, but that's merely because I can't keep my hands on you.

[He laughs a little before he gives the other a mischievous grin.]

I fancy myself a good swing or lindy hop. If you really want to learn, I'll teach you if you want. Dancing that is.

I'd rather learn from you than anyone else.

[Because who cares how technically correct he can be when instead he can learn it how Cain likes it?]

When you're feeling better. I can stay for a while, so don't worry if you need to lay down. I - um. I can put on tea or something, if that'll help.

I'll teach you whatever you want. Anything.

[He laughs a little and pulls them a bit closer to him.] Anything you want.

I could dance right now really. Sick or not. It's hard to feel bad when you're around. [He knows the other would surely disagree, but he does feel immensely better just having Rastaban around. He never realized how much a person can anchor someone until now.] You here is enough right now. You brought me plenty as is.

Call Me Out + Overflow

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