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[chokuto]

UN: 火
𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 / 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎 / 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐎 / 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 / 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖
𝟖♣ ( 𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝑳𝑼𝑩𝑺 )

Comments

[pushpin]

Right. Yeah.

[ conclusions he had reached just as well, capable of giving himself a pragmatic look to find value here and there — through the lens of the brutal society in which he was raised. the application carries, some: he can better preserve his own choices, and others', but it doesn't assist in any of the goals that matter. ]

[ Sasuke's question is difficult to not pick apart with the self-devouring need to understand its motivation, meeting mismatched eyes for a brief moment before they dance and flicker away like a flame's tail. ]

I can... clean... 'n do laundry. [ a beat. he knows there's no impressing anyone with this basic list of survival skills, least of all the guy who had the decency and strength to pick his wounded body up from the floor and carry him... somewhere safe. his hands have stopped moving and he stares at them, the bluish veins wiring around busted-up knuckles. ] ...I'm a hard worker.

[chokuto]

[It wasn't asked with any ulterior motive, and he only nods to hear Guanshan's list without judgment.]

Being a hard worker is a good trait to have in a place like this. Survival isn't always about strength. [He doesn't know if Guanshan's thoughts took him in that direction, but — he understands the vulnerability of powerlessness.] And your other skills aren't useless. They'll keep you self-sufficient.

[Another silence eats up the space between them as he returns to the meal, bowing himself to it, inhaling the scent of food and warm steam that bathes his face. He cannot recall the last time he enjoyed a homecooked meal, let alone made all for him. It is softening, a thawing of sentiment.]

If you ever need help... you can contact me.

[pushpin]

[ is it? he thinks to argue. these particular challenges aren't ones he thinks can simply be overcome — how does one learn how to tilt back and expose the jugular? there are some things that go against instinct and it feels unbreakable. ]

[ he says none of it; by and large, because he doesn't know him well enough. he isn't so unused to his entire world being so transactional, nor of others being so open and obvious about it, but there's a particularly meandering way he thinks Sasuke is going about this. there's a lot of things it could be: manners, manipulation, genuine awkwardness or inexperience. ]

[ Guanshan swallows a gulp full of tea, too warm all the way down, and hedges his bets: ]

What, like you wanna fuck?

[chokuto]

[Sasuke — chokes. Mid-chew, a hard swallow gets the food down his throat.]

No.

[His face is a flush of red, reserve and reticence cracked down the middle, for once betraying his age in a conspicuous way.]

I don't... do that. [With effort, he places down his utensil down and stares at the counter for a moment, gathering composure in order to explain the meaning of his words. Communication. It is not so easy, in practice, especially with someone new.] Not that I don't, you know. [Fuck.] In this place it's not a choice. But I wouldn't offer something like that so lightly. We aren't familiar with each other in that way, so it would be an uncomfortable proposition.

[At least, for him.]

You should find someone who you trust. And are... attracted to. [???] I meant that if you needed help in some other way while you become accustomed to this dimension.

[pushpin]

[ this display, and all Guanshan does is shuffle around his sticky rice tepidly. it's a sweet proposition; he will not take him up on it. at least, not without some kind of desperate facilitation. his stomach is telling him not to trust him, but that thing's never been reliable either. still, Sasuke didn't take advantage of him, regardless of ample opportunities and that counts for plenty. ]

[ he hums with chopsticks in his mouth, a mix of contemplative and affirming... ]

So you do fuck, just not me? [ a lean forward, forcing them to make eye contact — and Guanshan pursues like a belly exposed. ] What, am I ugly?

[chokuto]

[The eye contact is brief, furtive, stealing away as soon as contact is established — face tinted by another telling flush of color.]

That's not what I said.

[Yet it seems the longer this moment endures, the worse he tangles up the meaning of words. Communication remains a novelty unwrapped, his own directness serving to thwart intention due to the great depth of his inexperience; he doesn't want to trip over every step he treads, but it feels inevitable.]

I don't do it casually with just anyone. I'd rather we know each other first, before that. But — you aren't unattractive. [This is the best he can do.] I wouldn't be against it. In the future.