kayakking | (no subject)

[And this Tim had, even when the wavering form of Algric shuddered in and out of his perception and memory that first day. He still did when Jonah stumbled out of Hilltop. He still did when arms desperately went around him and a forehead pressed into his chest, despite the smell of burning protein and fiber overwhelmed the choking concrete dust and boiling wax.

He still does now.

There's just a specificity now he didn't have before. Was it a double standard? Was it wriggling on the line he, himself was caught on? Probably. But it was THERE now, sharp and stark.]

... You know, there's not been one moment since that narrative ended, that you haven't been there for me. I'm not-

[He tries again.] I don't hate you. There's only one person that story made me all out hate and that is not you.

[His voice is quiet, carefully measured. There's a wide world between 'I don't hate you' and 'I love you'.]

It feels strange to say 'thank you' but. I. Am coming to accept I'm ...capable of loving more than one person? But I. I do. Love you, Tim.

[There's continents of emotion between 'I don't hate you' and 'I love you.' But at Jonah's declaration, Tim's expression goes on a journey, taking in that proclaimed sentiment greedily and wrapping around it.]

God, I'm so glad. [His fingers slide along Jonah's cheek, a little too warm, a little too smooth.] Because I really love you too, Jon.

[All this feeling he could've had before if he'd trusted, or had a bit more confidence in himself at the moment. Make up for lost time now, he supposes. Jonah leans his cheek into that hand, desperate for touch; he loves Algric, is going to marry Algric, but he's understanding he's selfish for wanting this too.]

You know once I fill out the papers Martin gave us, that won't be my name anymore? So. Use it while you can.

I mean, you can still keep it. But yeah, whatever you want, I'll go with.

We'll see, I suppose.

[He leans into Tim's side a bit more, ignoring how uncomfortable it is in these chairs at the kitchen island. It's just... Nice.]

Either way, I'm. Not leaving. So. You... have me here.

[It... really is nice. The warm pressure, the sentiment. He ends up smiling like a god damned fool. He looks at Jonah a moment and-]

... We should get a last drink and take it to the couch, because it is gonna be real awkward to kiss you here.

[That startles a little laugh out of him, sitting up again.]

Last call, then?

Exactly, put in your orders, no going back from here.

I will trust the bartender, he's done a good job so far.

[It's unseen, but the edges of that ice scar do recede a small bit under his shirt.]

As you should.

[His hand slips down from where it had settled, and he hops down to the fridge, grabbing two more out of it.]

Onwards, to comfort.

[He watches Tim, then looks down at the ring on his finger. Wonders how he's gotten to be so lucky after everything that's happened.

Gets up to follow after him from the kitchen as they leave.]

You know, that couch belongs in the London Museum? Most comfortable couch in the world.

Oh, it might. But it'll take a full on Harrison Ford inna hat heist to drag it from my cold, unyielding hands.

[With a grin he flops against one of the armrests, setting his drink down on the coffee table, unopened still.]

[Jonah watches him, taking in that sight. It's good. It's good seeing Tim relaxed and happy.]

I don't think I need to point out the irony of you having 'cold' hands.

[And then flops onto the couch proper next to him.]

Relative to my heart, clearly.

[And an arm hooks around Jonah, pulling him close.]

Oof- [Yeah yeah pull him in, he's like a ragdoll at this point for this group. Easy to manhandle.]

You say that and yet...

[He's warm with drink and the nervy relaxation that comes from a long and hard conversation.]

Goodness me. The sass on this one.

I did ask why me, and you knew full well what you were getting into.

Guilty as charged, but absolutely irrelevant to the crimes at hand.

Hm.

[It's easy to sink into Tim's warmth, leaning into his side. The comfort is a a balm for the icy scar in his shoulder, helping ease it back.]

What would you have preferred, then? I'm fairly certain I can muster up some old fashioned paranoid boss Jon.

Oof. Pass. Just not my favorite vintage.

More of this, if you don't mind.

Easy enough.

[Just. Settles in here into Tim's side.]

Thank you for listening, Tim. To. To all of that.

[His arm tightens and he breathes out, sinking against Jon. The cool of the shoulder only registers a little now..]

I... thank you for telling me it. Like, I knew but I also had no idea...

It's hard to see the whole picture when you're in it, you know? But if my experience can help keep this Jon - your Jon - safe and maybe save the world? Fair trade, I think.

That's... that's the hope.