[Not a child or something like that. Not gonna do that. He wants to protest, especially when he feels the heat rising to his cheeks and his only thought is to make a stink about it, fuck you fuck you fuck you, but alas. The fire dies as quick as it came, and with slight hesitation on his part, he leans forward across the table to take the offered bite.
This is, you know, easier than doing it himself from a logistical standpoint. From a flustered standpoint, uh... Well. This isn't easier at all! If his face is still red (it is) it's because the sushi is spicy, shut up shut up shut up—]
[Good boy. Now just don’t think about how it’s an indirect kiss since Adrian fed you with his own chopsticks (that are never touching his mouth because he has no lips right now but shhhh).
Adrian clicks his tongue, and before sitting back he snatches another piece off Rosso’s plate, this time actually eating it.]
[Don't "good boy" him on this not-date, he'll die!!!]
Yeah, yeah, brat.
[You know, Rosso would be a gremlin and steal one of Adrian's if he weren't, you know, struggling to hold chopsticks (and also struggling to Exist). Since being a little shit is out of the question, he huffs and goes back to trying to eat like an Adult without Help.
It goes, well, as expected. Some pieces stay on the chopsticks, some wind up narrowly avoiding falling to a table-y death. It's a work in process. Just like not getting flustered at everything Adrian does is also... that.
Ugh ugh ugh.
At the very least, dinner is enjoyable. And since Rosso's not a werewolf, he can't pick up on the whispers from other tables about "the odd couple clearly on their first date" and "one of them is wearing crocs". Little blessings. Otherwise he'd probably start a fight.
As you do.
Now, comes the very exciting moment of truth when the staff brings the bill to them, with the patient note to "take your time, we hope you enjoyed your meal" yadda yadda. Rosso's expecting it to be expensive, at least, so when he snatches it off of the table, he doesn't completely go pale. That's about... the amount of money he was expecting to fork over.
It's so much money.
Man, where's the Elrian Kingdom to pay for everything he wants when he needs 'em?]
Despite it all, Adrian approves of Rosso’s choice of restaurant, even if he’s not sure the ridiculously high price is entirely justified. Food was good, yeah, but was it sell your soul good? Nah. That’s reserved for Mom’s chili. What are they paying for, the atmosphere?
He’s completely cleaned his plate by the time their check comes, his eyes rolling over to watch Rosso as he takes it. He knows it’s a lot, and Rosso said he’d pay for it, but…
[Comically, Rosso's still finishing the last bits of his own food when the cheque comes, so he has to do that "okthankyouverymuch" mutter with food stuffed into his cheek like a squirrel.
Then, while he's signing off on the cheque proper and thanking the staff mentally So Much for including the price with tip at the bottom of the receipt so he doesn't have to do math, he takes his last bite. That's, coincidentally, the moment when Adrian speaks up, which causes a Whole-Ass Moment™ in Rosso's brain.
Swallowing quickly and glancing up from where he's signing his name on the line, he blurts out,]
Next time—
[It's not like it's that unusual. Friends go out for dinner all the time, it's not weird. What's causing a glitch in the mainframe right now is the fact that Adrian just declares that without realising that the original intent had been a date. Which.
It's not a date. It's not! This isn't a date so this doesn't count, the one-two-three pattern that Rose Quartz identified for him online doesn't apply here. Yet here he is, excited by the prospect of Dinner Two anyway. Not because it's a date but because it's more time to— to just— spend with him.
As if they haven't spent every day together so far, after he died and Rosso wanted to watch over him. Nothing's happened. No one's gotten hurt. The week's up, and he could just let Adrian go back to being Rosso-less and only pop in for some visits sometime... ugh, but the greedy part of him wants to cling.
And none of that matters right now because here he is, folding the leather cheque holder up and letting it slap against the table with a dull thud, clearing his throat like he's perfectly Normal and Not Gay.]
Adrian definitely isn't thinking at all when he says it. It just...makes sense they'd do this again, right? It's not like Rosso's the only person he's ever gone to a place with before, even if this is...undoubtedly the fanciest. Like holy shit, he still feels like he's sticking out like a sore thumb.
So when Rosso complains about Adrian outclassing him, he scoffs as he pushes his way out of their booth (with a little difficulty, because fat crocodile ass).]
Oh, there is no fucking way I'm going to somewhere this expensive again. We'll go to someplace more affordable, and it'll taste just as good, if not better. Bet on it.
[As Rosso's crawling out of the booth to follow after, he mulls over that for a second. Yeah, this place was way too much fucking money. Rosso's never doing this again. No nice meals, only whatever he can cobble together and/or reasonably-priced restaurants.
When they pass by the front, the woman manning it waves at them. One set of "have a good night" and "thanks you too", and they're out in the cold again, city lights flickering against a moonlit night. Tiny snowflakes fall from the sky in long intervals, certainly not enough to accumulate on the wet sidewalks, most of them melting the second they touch Rosso's bare shoulders or the top of his head.
It's a long walk back. And it seems like they came at a good time, too, because now that it's darker, the line for the restaurant really is out the front door.
A minute passes before he speaks up again.]
Bet. [And then, quietly:] You wouldn't even go to a place that pricey again if it were a date?
[They'd been out of the place for long enough that Adrian had almost forgotten he'd said anything else. So, when Rosso speaks up again through the silence, he lifts his head a fraction.]
Huh?
[What did he say? Because no, sorry Rosso, since you're the only thing he can hear within earshot he absolutely heard you say something just then.
That's...
He keeps looking straight ahead, opening and closing his jaws a few times.]
Food was good, though. [Quick act cool, act like you didn't just say that, don't act like he's interested in you as you walk back to Merain you look like an idiot Rosso.] Guess you'd better uphold your end of the bet, or I'm not trusting you to pick a dinner spot again.
[If he simply acts normal, he can't make this awkward, like on the day he kissed Adrian's cheek or that day they reunited and he said some gay shit and swam off immediately. No worries, they can just continue to pick on each other ad infinitum and it'll be fine. That'll be that.
He's your closest friend, you really wanna fuck this up? Like you fuck everything else up?
Yep brain that's the point of dating, thanks for that.
[Even if he swallowed all of it whole. Like, the taste was worth the price. Everything else though......debatable.
He grimaces a little as they walk, because snow is once more filling his stupid crocs. Maybe these weren't the best purchase he's ever made, but he is committed to wearing them now. He hasn't bought another pair of shoes since arriving because he just had stopped wearing them anyway, so.]
You'll be eatin' those words once you try that place. Can't wait to see the look on your face when you see how right I am.
[That place has ramen so spicy it will make you want to die, of COURSE Rosso would like it.
Anyway, tease as a self defense mechanism, because boy why do their conversations keep lapsing into feeling so.............awkward? He doesn't know, but he's not sure he likes how often it happens these days.]
[It sounds like it, to Rosso. Which is good to know, he supposes, for when they have not-a-date number two. He probably doesn't need to dress as nicely for that.
Not like he should've dressed up this nicely in the first place for their current(ly ending) not-date — the staff let Adrian in just fine, and he's just wearing run of the mill clothing and crocs. Rosso has yet to figure out how atrocious they are, still, unlike Adrian who is now contending with snow on his feet.
Rosso... Who is currently eating his feelings, as always, is also starting to realise it's a lot colder than it was when they left. He can see his breath as they walk, and he's reminded distantly of how back in the day, he used to be able to exhale rings of fire — back when he could control his fire, anyway. It's a useless memory, even more useless as a story, and after a few exhales when he realises he can't get the same result with just his breath, he huffs.
And then, bravely, and totally Only because it's cold, he nestles up into Adrian's side as they walk.
[Rosso you absolute walnut did you forget Adrian was cold blooded-
...well, it probably doesn't matter, in the end. They're both mers, and Rosso is going to be just as cold as he is naturally right now anyway, if not moreso. Adrian just has the advantage of being bigger, with more potential body heat to generate even if it can't really stick around for more than a few seconds at a time on its own.
You can't exactly miss that, the way Rosso gets up close to him as they walk. And if it was when they first met, Adrian would have shrugged him off and demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing. If it was just a few months ago, he'd push him back with a hand on his head, asking for some personal space, maybe.
Right now, he doesn't do either of those things. Instead, he doesn't do anything. He allows it, exhaling a heavy breath that comes out in a huge cloud of steam in the cold air ahead of them.
He'd have to peel Rosso off him to get his jacket off, so instead he opts to throw one of his arms around the Mer, about his shoulders to keep him in. If he wants to get that close then he's stuck there, sorry.]
If you wanted the jacket back, you coulda' just said so, yaknow.
Rosso's not usually one to invade someone else's space. Even if it were cold, back home, he'd sooner freeze to death than cuddle with anyone else — that and blah blah blah fire magic — but it's not as if Adrian would know that. It's not like he'll take this as a hint, because there's no reason for him to think this is unusual behaviour. It's not like Rosso didn't just sit in his lap (not by his choice!!), it's not like they haven't been a bit huggy with each other after both of them died, and at this point, it might be unusual to think they ever weren't the least bit touchy.
Maybe Adrian's not the warmest thing on the planet, but it's the principle of the matter. Rosso's stupidly into him.
But damn. Damn, does Adrian not take hints, and damn Rosso for not dropping proper ones. It's hard to tell with Adrian, if he's actually receptive to this or not — a side-hug just seems so typically him nowadays, even if he didn't initiate it — and so Rosso just gets to fester. Fester and be cold and think about how maybe when they get back to Merain, he'll kiss Adrian's cheek again and bolt as always. It's the bravest he can be.]
[Adrian...is not as oblivious as he seems, most times. He just doesn't want to believe what he's seeing right in front of him, because the implications are not something he knows how to handle. Because if, if it's true...it's worse than making a friend. Worse than making a best friend.
It's putting yourself, your everything, completely on the line for someone else. It's as vulnerable as you can get...to love. And maybe Adrian's only ever felt familial love in his lifetime, but it was as strong and as impactful to his life as anything. And losing it twice over nearly ruined him permanently.
He's not sure if he can do it a third time. It's terrifying.
But then there are moments when he remembers those feelings that made taking the chances worth it. That stupid warmth in his chest when Misha rode on his shoulders. That feeling of excitement when he realized his mother was making his favorite dinner. Things that he missed because their memories were tainted by the circumstances that stole them away.
He feels it now, as Rosso leans into him as they walk. A warmth that should not be there as a cold-blooded creature, one that fills him up utterly and makes him feel like he's dying.
And it's scary. He doesn't want to hurt like he has in the past ever again.
Yet against his better judgement, he allows it. He blinks slowly as he looks down at Rosso out of the corner of his eye, bumping his snout against the side of Rosso's face.]
Rosso's always hesitated in the past to let anyone get close, friend or not. He's a mess, he goddamn knows he's a mess, and he can't for the life of him figure out any of this emotion shit. Doesn't want to, because it would mean letting people in. He'd lost people, too. Murdered his best friend by accident in a fit of rage as a teenager, which cemented the fear of himself into his brain so horribly it still presents even here, when he's without his magic and without the ability to cause lasting harm to any other monsters. Obviously he won't lose control of any magic here because he doesn't have it, yet here he stands staring at the burn scars on his arms anyway and wondering if it'll happen again. Letting people in, therefore, is dangerous. It always will be. It means he has to confront some unpleasant truths about himself out loud.
It's easier to just get angry and push people away, though at this point, half of it is because he doesn't know how to show emotions without shrieking about it. Without the stubbornness. Without the "I don't care" when he really and truly does. It's easier to shelter himself and go about his business as if he's completely unbothered and uncaring.
And yet he cares so goddamn much. And here he is, laughing unmistakeably at the snout pushing against his face, walking through the snow and the late-night crowd while pressed against someone he cares for, thinking maybe if he's lucky he won't fuck this up and he can get a happy ending that he's sorta-kinda wanted for five hundred fucking years. Here he is thinking he should probably tell Adrian what the fuck he's actually saying when he's using that word, while his face turns red and his fins flash blue at the overwhelmingness of it all.]
That right? I'm just allowed in your space now?
[But he doesn't, of course he doesn't, because if he's going to say that much he'd rather it be when they get back to Merain so he can hide in some seaweed if needed. When needed, he scathingly reminds himself, because who would actually look at Rosso and think getting close is a good idea? He kicks cars. He lights people on fire. He blows stuff up at the junkyard and starts fights and bites people's heads off just for looking at him funny.
It's not happening, give up, and just say something, you idiot, bounce around simultaneously in his brain. And for his part, all he does is wrap an arm around Adrian's waist — that's all he can reach — like this is all fine and normal.]
[They say opposites attract, but there's something to like minded people getting closer as well. There's a certain sense of Rosso being able to understand how he is and what he goes through more than most, probably because he too has lived that already.
Though, maybe he just sticks around Rosso because he's fun to mess with. That's also a possibility.
Adrian grumbles at that, his tail slapping lightly against the snow-covered street as Rosso returns the contact with an arm around his waist. That's definitely fine and normal if it's all his short ass can reach-]
If you weren't, you'd know. Unless you just ain't been payin' attention this whole time.
[He could reach Adrian's shoulders but he'd have to break his arm, no thanks!]
I'm usually payin' attention to you. [And then, so he sounds less gay:] Your tall ass is hard to miss.
[Yeah, because right now's a great time to try and sound less like he's got feelings for a friend. It's totally believable because he's not at all wrapped around Adrian like a serpent or anything.]
[He snorts, because...it does happen a lot, now that he thinks about it. It was just with a lot more hissing and growling the first few times. These days, he barely bats an eye.
[Listen, he's just covering his bases. Being forced to crawl into Adrian's lap at that sushi place is an entirely different story — something that's bad for both of their brains probably. But that's all third date stuff they don't need to worry about that.]
Aaaand, [he almost sing-songs, clearly in a good mood because when does he ever do that?] when you get your wings back, you'll fly me around wherever I want?
[Is this pushing his luck? Maybe so. But he's never forgotten how it felt to fly through the air on Adrian's back that day they went to Amusement Mile. How could he? It was, as he put it to Adrian that day he didn't realise the guy's anon name until too late, the most fun he's ever had. Something about that whole trip stands out even now.]
Oi, somebody's gettin' a little too brave for their britches.
[Adrian sneers, reaching around with his free hand to muss up the top of Rosso's hair. Rosso will never be free from that inevitability as long as he lives, even if Adrian knows Rosso may one day just kill him for it do you know how hard he works on his HAIR-]
...but sure. I guess I can take you again, if there's somethin' in it for me.
[Do you know it took him two hours to get it back to being Soft and Pretty today so he could put it up for this not-date, Adrian??? Do you know?????? Do you know the chaos you're causing—
He will try (and fail) to bite Adrian's hand as it leaves. There's no explanation for this other than childishness mixed with whatever playful giddiness has overtaken him this evening. Unfortunately, Rosso has been known to bite people.]
You won't have a hand next time you try that shit.
[Adrian laughs because he has no shame or sense of self preservation apparently, retrieving his hand while he still can as he puts it back into his pocket, using his other to give Rosso a light squeeze.]
Food, mostly. More curry, since you like it so much.
[There's some more things, too, that he mulls over for a brief moment. Just a second or two, and then he decides, fuck it.
For a second, he stops dead where they walk. Then, small, webbed hands fist their way into Adrian's collar to yank him down closer to Rosso's level. With zero hesitation and absolutely no impulse control on his part, Rosso leans up to kiss Adrian's cheek, and then comically half-shoves him back and continues walking.]
And that, I guess, [if he channels Soren Ventus he'll surely make it out of this alive,] and maybe I'll let you have some of that nice wine I bought.
[
quick walk faster to avoid the fluster of what you just did catching up—]
[Curry, huh? Not a bad trade, Adrian thinks. He's already been promised a whole month's worth, so what's even more going to hurt?
He's about to ask what else Rosso can make- like those stews he likes so much, maybe they could even try to grill something since he can do that- when he's suddenly caught completely off guard when Rosso just. Stops.
He stops, and grabs Adrian by the collar of his jacket, and for a split second Adrian braces himself to be decked. Oh shit, did he say something actually wrong this time, because it sure flew right over his head if he did. He winces visibly as his eyes screw shut, because as a croc being punched in the nose fucking hurts and he assumes Rosso knows that.
But as he's dragged down a fraction, it isn't to be punched. Well. Unless you count a kiss as being punched with someone's lips, of course.
Then he's being pushed back, staggering slightly despite Rosso being so much smaller than him as the other Mer wheels around and makes to practically sprint away from him.
And that?
Midway through the word "wine", Rosso will be stopped by Adrian's hand snapping out to grab him by the wrist, effectively stopping him from running away unless Rosso jerks himself free.]
[The urge to yank himself free and run off is certainly there, but he doesn't. He tells himself it's because he doesn't want Adrian's claws somehow tearing through the fins flexing on his forearm, even though they're nowhere close to that at all. Obviously if he yanks his arm away somehow Adrian's claws will go up, that's how it works.
His other excuse is just that it would be stupid to run ahead when he needs to steal Adrian's coat eventually at some point.]
...yeah?
[Said in the dumbest voice. Like oh yeah I didn't do anything what's up, kinda voice.]
no subject
I'm not—
[Not a child or something like that. Not gonna do that. He wants to protest, especially when he feels the heat rising to his cheeks and his only thought is to make a stink about it, fuck you fuck you fuck you, but alas. The fire dies as quick as it came, and with slight hesitation on his part, he leans forward across the table to take the offered bite.
This is, you know, easier than doing it himself from a logistical standpoint. From a flustered standpoint, uh... Well. This isn't easier at all! If his face is still red (it is) it's because the sushi is spicy, shut up shut up shut up—]
...thanks.
[Kill him he's going into cardiac arrest]
no subject
Adrian clicks his tongue, and before sitting back he snatches another piece off Rosso’s plate, this time actually eating it.]
And that’s payment for my services.
no subject
Yeah, yeah, brat.
[You know, Rosso would be a gremlin and steal one of Adrian's if he weren't, you know, struggling to hold chopsticks (and also struggling to Exist). Since being a little shit is out of the question, he huffs and goes back to trying to eat like an Adult without Help.
It goes, well, as expected. Some pieces stay on the chopsticks, some wind up narrowly avoiding falling to a table-y death. It's a work in process. Just like not getting flustered at everything Adrian does is also... that.
Ugh ugh ugh.
At the very least, dinner is enjoyable. And since Rosso's not a werewolf, he can't pick up on the whispers from other tables about "the odd couple clearly on their first date" and "one of them is wearing crocs". Little blessings. Otherwise he'd probably start a fight.
As you do.
Now, comes the very exciting moment of truth when the staff brings the bill to them, with the patient note to "take your time, we hope you enjoyed your meal" yadda yadda. Rosso's expecting it to be expensive, at least, so when he snatches it off of the table, he doesn't completely go pale. That's about... the amount of money he was expecting to fork over.
It's so much money.
Man, where's the Elrian Kingdom to pay for everything he wants when he needs 'em?]
no subject
Despite it all, Adrian approves of Rosso’s choice of restaurant, even if he’s not sure the ridiculously high price is entirely justified. Food was good, yeah, but was it sell your soul good? Nah. That’s reserved for Mom’s chili. What are they paying for, the atmosphere?
He’s completely cleaned his plate by the time their check comes, his eyes rolling over to watch Rosso as he takes it. He knows it’s a lot, and Rosso said he’d pay for it, but…
Ugh.]
Dinner’s on me, next time.
[…
Wait next time]
no subject
Then, while he's signing off on the cheque proper and thanking the staff mentally So Much for including the price with tip at the bottom of the receipt so he doesn't have to do math, he takes his last bite. That's, coincidentally, the moment when Adrian speaks up, which causes a Whole-Ass Moment™ in Rosso's brain.
Swallowing quickly and glancing up from where he's signing his name on the line, he blurts out,]
Next time—
[It's not like it's that unusual. Friends go out for dinner all the time, it's not weird. What's causing a glitch in the mainframe right now is the fact that Adrian just declares that without realising that the original intent had been a date. Which.
It's not a date. It's not! This isn't a date so this doesn't count, the one-two-three pattern that Rose Quartz identified for him online doesn't apply here. Yet here he is, excited by the prospect of Dinner Two anyway. Not because it's a date but because it's more time to— to just— spend with him.
As if they haven't spent every day together so far, after he died and Rosso wanted to watch over him. Nothing's happened. No one's gotten hurt. The week's up, and he could just let Adrian go back to being Rosso-less and only pop in for some visits sometime... ugh, but the greedy part of him wants to cling.
And none of that matters right now because here he is, folding the leather cheque holder up and letting it slap against the table with a dull thud, clearing his throat like he's perfectly Normal and Not Gay.]
...well. Try not to outclass me, jagi. Let's go.
no subject
Adrian definitely isn't thinking at all when he says it. It just...makes sense they'd do this again, right? It's not like Rosso's the only person he's ever gone to a place with before, even if this is...undoubtedly the fanciest. Like holy shit, he still feels like he's sticking out like a sore thumb.
So when Rosso complains about Adrian outclassing him, he scoffs as he pushes his way out of their booth (with a little difficulty, because fat crocodile ass).]
Oh, there is no fucking way I'm going to somewhere this expensive again. We'll go to someplace more affordable, and it'll taste just as good, if not better. Bet on it.
no subject
When they pass by the front, the woman manning it waves at them. One set of "have a good night" and "thanks you too", and they're out in the cold again, city lights flickering against a moonlit night. Tiny snowflakes fall from the sky in long intervals, certainly not enough to accumulate on the wet sidewalks, most of them melting the second they touch Rosso's bare shoulders or the top of his head.
It's a long walk back. And it seems like they came at a good time, too, because now that it's darker, the line for the restaurant really is out the front door.
A minute passes before he speaks up again.]
Bet. [And then, quietly:] You wouldn't even go to a place that pricey again if it were a date?
[
oh boy he hopes Adrian didn't hear that.]
no subject
Huh?
[What did he say? Because no, sorry Rosso, since you're the only thing he can hear within earshot he absolutely heard you say something just then.
That's...
He keeps looking straight ahead, opening and closing his jaws a few times.]
I mean...I guess. Maybe. If I saved up for it...
[...]
no subject
Food was good, though. [Quick act cool, act like you didn't just say that, don't act like he's interested in you as you walk back to Merain you look like an idiot Rosso.] Guess you'd better uphold your end of the bet, or I'm not trusting you to pick a dinner spot again.
[If he simply acts normal, he can't make this awkward, like on the day he kissed Adrian's cheek or that day they reunited and he said some gay shit and swam off immediately. No worries, they can just continue to pick on each other ad infinitum and it'll be fine. That'll be that.
He's your closest friend, you really wanna fuck this up? Like you fuck everything else up?
Yep brain that's the point of dating, thanks for that.
On they trudge.]
no subject
[Even if he swallowed all of it whole. Like, the taste was worth the price. Everything else though......debatable.
He grimaces a little as they walk, because snow is once more filling his stupid crocs. Maybe these weren't the best purchase he's ever made, but he is committed to wearing them now. He hasn't bought another pair of shoes since arriving because he just had stopped wearing them anyway, so.]
You'll be eatin' those words once you try that place. Can't wait to see the look on your face when you see how right I am.
[That place has ramen so spicy it will make you want to die, of COURSE Rosso would like it.
Anyway, tease as a self defense mechanism, because boy why do their conversations keep lapsing into feeling so.............awkward? He doesn't know, but he's not sure he likes how often it happens these days.]
no subject
[It sounds like it, to Rosso. Which is good to know, he supposes, for when they have not-a-date number two. He probably doesn't need to dress as nicely for that.
Not like he should've dressed up this nicely in the first place for their current(ly ending) not-date — the staff let Adrian in just fine, and he's just wearing run of the mill clothing and crocs. Rosso has yet to figure out how atrocious they are, still, unlike Adrian who is now contending with snow on his feet.
Rosso... Who is currently eating his feelings, as always, is also starting to realise it's a lot colder than it was when they left. He can see his breath as they walk, and he's reminded distantly of how back in the day, he used to be able to exhale rings of fire — back when he could control his fire, anyway. It's a useless memory, even more useless as a story, and after a few exhales when he realises he can't get the same result with just his breath, he huffs.
And then, bravely, and totally Only because it's cold, he nestles up into Adrian's side as they walk.
Normal. Heterosexual.]
no subject
...well, it probably doesn't matter, in the end. They're both mers, and Rosso is going to be just as cold as he is naturally right now anyway, if not moreso. Adrian just has the advantage of being bigger, with more potential body heat to generate even if it can't really stick around for more than a few seconds at a time on its own.
You can't exactly miss that, the way Rosso gets up close to him as they walk. And if it was when they first met, Adrian would have shrugged him off and demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing. If it was just a few months ago, he'd push him back with a hand on his head, asking for some personal space, maybe.
Right now, he doesn't do either of those things. Instead, he doesn't do anything. He allows it, exhaling a heavy breath that comes out in a huge cloud of steam in the cold air ahead of them.
He'd have to peel Rosso off him to get his jacket off, so instead he opts to throw one of his arms around the Mer, about his shoulders to keep him in. If he wants to get that close then he's stuck there, sorry.]
If you wanted the jacket back, you coulda' just said so, yaknow.
no subject
Rosso's not usually one to invade someone else's space. Even if it were cold, back home, he'd sooner freeze to death than cuddle with anyone else — that and blah blah blah fire magic — but it's not as if Adrian would know that. It's not like he'll take this as a hint, because there's no reason for him to think this is unusual behaviour. It's not like Rosso didn't just sit in his lap (not by his choice!!), it's not like they haven't been a bit huggy with each other after both of them died, and at this point, it might be unusual to think they ever weren't the least bit touchy.
Maybe Adrian's not the warmest thing on the planet, but it's the principle of the matter. Rosso's stupidly into him.
But damn. Damn, does Adrian not take hints, and damn Rosso for not dropping proper ones. It's hard to tell with Adrian, if he's actually receptive to this or not — a side-hug just seems so typically him nowadays, even if he didn't initiate it — and so Rosso just gets to fester. Fester and be cold and think about how maybe when they get back to Merain, he'll kiss Adrian's cheek again and bolt as always. It's the bravest he can be.]
Maybe I just wanted to be closer to you, you ass.
[That's fairly brave too, he supposes.
Ugh. Love is stupid. Kill him.]
no subject
It's putting yourself, your everything, completely on the line for someone else. It's as vulnerable as you can get...to love. And maybe Adrian's only ever felt familial love in his lifetime, but it was as strong and as impactful to his life as anything. And losing it twice over nearly ruined him permanently.
He's not sure if he can do it a third time. It's terrifying.
But then there are moments when he remembers those feelings that made taking the chances worth it. That stupid warmth in his chest when Misha rode on his shoulders. That feeling of excitement when he realized his mother was making his favorite dinner. Things that he missed because their memories were tainted by the circumstances that stole them away.
He feels it now, as Rosso leans into him as they walk. A warmth that should not be there as a cold-blooded creature, one that fills him up utterly and makes him feel like he's dying.
And it's scary. He doesn't want to hurt like he has in the past ever again.
Yet against his better judgement, he allows it. He blinks slowly as he looks down at Rosso out of the corner of his eye, bumping his snout against the side of Rosso's face.]
I didn't say I minded it, jagi.
no subject
Rosso's always hesitated in the past to let anyone get close, friend or not. He's a mess, he goddamn knows he's a mess, and he can't for the life of him figure out any of this emotion shit. Doesn't want to, because it would mean letting people in. He'd lost people, too. Murdered his best friend by accident in a fit of rage as a teenager, which cemented the fear of himself into his brain so horribly it still presents even here, when he's without his magic and without the ability to cause lasting harm to any other monsters. Obviously he won't lose control of any magic here because he doesn't have it, yet here he stands staring at the burn scars on his arms anyway and wondering if it'll happen again. Letting people in, therefore, is dangerous. It always will be. It means he has to confront some unpleasant truths about himself out loud.
It's easier to just get angry and push people away, though at this point, half of it is because he doesn't know how to show emotions without shrieking about it. Without the stubbornness. Without the "I don't care" when he really and truly does. It's easier to shelter himself and go about his business as if he's completely unbothered and uncaring.
And yet he cares so goddamn much. And here he is, laughing unmistakeably at the snout pushing against his face, walking through the snow and the late-night crowd while pressed against someone he cares for, thinking maybe if he's lucky he won't fuck this up and he can get a happy ending that he's sorta-kinda wanted for five hundred fucking years. Here he is thinking he should probably tell Adrian what the fuck he's actually saying when he's using that word, while his face turns red and his fins flash blue at the overwhelmingness of it all.]
That right? I'm just allowed in your space now?
[But he doesn't, of course he doesn't, because if he's going to say that much he'd rather it be when they get back to Merain so he can hide in some seaweed if needed. When needed, he scathingly reminds himself, because who would actually look at Rosso and think getting close is a good idea? He kicks cars. He lights people on fire. He blows stuff up at the junkyard and starts fights and bites people's heads off just for looking at him funny.
It's not happening, give up, and just say something, you idiot, bounce around simultaneously in his brain. And for his part, all he does is wrap an arm around Adrian's waist — that's all he can reach — like this is all fine and normal.]
no subject
Though, maybe he just sticks around Rosso because he's fun to mess with. That's also a possibility.
Adrian grumbles at that, his tail slapping lightly against the snow-covered street as Rosso returns the contact with an arm around his waist. That's definitely fine and normal if it's all his short ass can reach-]
If you weren't, you'd know. Unless you just ain't been payin' attention this whole time.
no subject
I'm usually payin' attention to you. [And then, so he sounds less gay:] Your tall ass is hard to miss.
[Yeah, because right now's a great time to try and sound less like he's got feelings for a friend. It's totally believable because he's not at all wrapped around Adrian like a serpent or anything.]
I can just use you as a chair whenever I want?
[Nevermind back to gay.]
no subject
[He snorts, because...it does happen a lot, now that he thinks about it. It was just with a lot more hissing and growling the first few times. These days, he barely bats an eye.
Almost. Some times are...Different.]
no subject
Aaaand, [he almost sing-songs, clearly in a good mood because when does he ever do that?] when you get your wings back, you'll fly me around wherever I want?
[Is this pushing his luck? Maybe so. But he's never forgotten how it felt to fly through the air on Adrian's back that day they went to Amusement Mile. How could he? It was, as he put it to Adrian that day he didn't realise the guy's anon name until too late, the most fun he's ever had. Something about that whole trip stands out even now.]
no subject
[Adrian sneers, reaching around with his free hand to muss up the top of Rosso's hair. Rosso will never be free from that inevitability as long as he lives, even if Adrian knows Rosso may one day just kill him for it do you know how hard he works on his HAIR-]
...but sure. I guess I can take you again, if there's somethin' in it for me.
no subject
He will try (and fail) to bite Adrian's hand as it leaves. There's no explanation for this other than childishness mixed with whatever playful giddiness has overtaken him this evening. Unfortunately, Rosso has been known to bite people.]
You won't have a hand next time you try that shit.
[Yes he will. Rosso's just grouchy.]
I can think of a couple things, though.
no subject
Oh yeah? Like what?
no subject
[There's some more things, too, that he mulls over for a brief moment. Just a second or two, and then he decides, fuck it.
For a second, he stops dead where they walk. Then, small, webbed hands fist their way into Adrian's collar to yank him down closer to Rosso's level. With zero hesitation and absolutely no impulse control on his part, Rosso leans up to kiss Adrian's cheek, and then comically half-shoves him back and continues walking.]
And that, I guess, [if he channels Soren Ventus he'll surely make it out of this alive,] and maybe I'll let you have some of that nice wine I bought.
[
quick walk faster to avoid the fluster of what you just did catching up—]
no subject
He's about to ask what else Rosso can make- like those stews he likes so much, maybe they could even try to grill something since he can do that- when he's suddenly caught completely off guard when Rosso just. Stops.
He stops, and grabs Adrian by the collar of his jacket, and for a split second Adrian braces himself to be decked. Oh shit, did he say something actually wrong this time, because it sure flew right over his head if he did. He winces visibly as his eyes screw shut, because as a croc being punched in the nose fucking hurts and he assumes Rosso knows that.
But as he's dragged down a fraction, it isn't to be punched. Well. Unless you count a kiss as being punched with someone's lips, of course.
Then he's being pushed back, staggering slightly despite Rosso being so much smaller than him as the other Mer wheels around and makes to practically sprint away from him.
And that?
Midway through the word "wine", Rosso will be stopped by Adrian's hand snapping out to grab him by the wrist, effectively stopping him from running away unless Rosso jerks himself free.]
Hold up. Get back here.
no subject
His other excuse is just that it would be stupid to run ahead when he needs to steal Adrian's coat eventually at some point.]
...yeah?
[Said in the dumbest voice. Like oh yeah I didn't do anything what's up, kinda voice.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
im sorry this is probably meant to be encouraging, or something, but adrian is stupid-
Rosso's not encouraged but he sure is gay
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)