Watching & Waiting - 09.10.24 (Florian + Toothy)
Oct 12, 2024 12:30:03 GMT
Toothy, Orianna Èirigh, and 1 more like this
Post by Florian Abeia on Oct 12, 2024 12:30:03 GMT
The night is black but inside the treehouse it isn’t ever completely dark. Even with curtains and well made walls, the ever-burning jade flames of the surrounding oak tree shine in, bathing the homely interior in a flickering twilight.
There is a soft flutter of wings and the clicking of large talons on the wooden platform just outside the door, and then Florian gently pushes it open and steps in. He lets out a sigh that seems to come from deep in his bones, like he’s laid down some great and gruesome weight. He props his staff against the wall by the door and kicks off his boots. He strips down and washes his face and hands in the basin by the mirror. The dark shading on his face and hands doesn’t budge - the pigments of his paints is near enough a permanent fixture at this point - but he feels a little better for ridding himself of sweat and dirt and tears.
He roots around until he finds Toothy’s largest jumper (dark blue, soft cable knitted wool, holes for the thumbs, it swallows Florian like a nightgown, he steals it as often as he can) and pulls it on with another sigh. Then he lifts the blankets and slides in under them, wrapping an arm around his sleeping fiancé and pressing his entire face into his broad, warm back. He can still feel his heart beating a little too fast. He’s painfully sober and wishes he wasn’t, but that’s not a good reason to drink from the second teapot. He focuses on the smell of Toothy’s hair instead.
The wall of warmth rumbles slightly as Toothy shifts to wakefulness, he slides his arm to lay a hand over Florian’s to give it a soft squeeze.
“I didn’t think such a large sigh could come out of someone your size. How are the feelings back there?”
Florian tangles their fingers together, finding that he can’t squeeze them very well, because his hands are shaking.
“The feelings are… very big,” he says, in a very small voice. He sounds uncharacteristically shaken - almost afraid.
“Okay… okay.” Toothy’s voice stays calm as he starts to rub slow circles on the back of Florian's hand.
“I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere,” he says quietly, but it's with the conviction of someone who wouldn't be moved even if the gods asked. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want a distraction from it?”
“It’s just… we went on that stupid staircase and everything was so big, and I’m not made for that, I’m made for the little things. The little guys.”
Florian feels his eyes tear up again and tugs on the hand he’s holding.
“Can you just hold me for a little bit so I know where I am? So things aren’t bigger than here.”
Before he even finishes his sentence Toothy is twisting round to face him, drawing him in for a hug as he tangles their legs together. “I’ll hold you as long as you possibly want. I'm not sure what big fully means, but I know you're the best at looking after the little guys in our lil’ neck of the woods.”
He presses a few lingering kisses to Florian’s forehead as he keeps holding his bundle of druid and jumper close. Florian burrows as deep into Toothy’s neck as is humanly possible, and lets himself shake apart. There are a few more tears, some more trembling, but something deep in his chest, something in the back of his brain, knows that he’s with Toothy, and therefore everything must be alright. Eventually he sighs again, of relief.
“Calla got a new patron,” he mumbles. “Some sort of super sexy birdman who’s part of the Staircase. He definitely seems nicer than her last one.” He manages a wet little laugh, with some genuine mirth. “And at least she’s getting some now. They were getting down and dirty before we’d even left Oríanna’s house.”
He pokes one hand out of the massive sleeves and fiddles with a strand of Toothy’s hair. His voice is tired and a little dazed still, but calmer.
“That fucking Staircase, babe. Fuck. It goes… everywhere. And anytime. To all things that could possibly happen. It was too much. We even joked about it before we left - that it was funny that Oríanna was named the Herald of the Cosmos and I was named, like, The Dude Of Forests. But seeing all that was…”
He shakes his head a little, the top of it rubbing against Toothy’s chin.
“I’m good here. Like this. I was made to see the little things. The rats and the bats and the ducks. With you.”
Toothy tilts his head slightly to give better access to his hair, allowing him time to process exactly what’s been said. “With you always. The little things are the fucking best, just as inspiring and beautifully bizarre, no matter how vast the stars and staircases look.”
Florian sighs again, relief at being profoundly understood singing in his veins, finer than any tea from the second teapot.
“I know you said you were joking around,” Toothy says, “but no one was putting you down for all the work you’ve put in as a Herald were they?”
Florian shakes his head again, sinking his whole hand into Toothy’s thick hair.
“No, it was me. I made the joke. I started it. Probably because I thought it was true. And it was, but in a good way.”
“Okay. Good. I know they’re your family but I just-“
He pauses suddenly, like a thought has jumped up and shouted in his head for attention. “Wait, so Calla’s patron and her….that’s what she’s into? Didn’t know patrons could give the whole package deal like that. It’s good they seem better though.”
“Way better. She was blushing the whole time, it was really cute, actually. And the people in the Staircase showed her mazes. Calla feels about mazes the same way you feel about baby squirrels. It’ll be a good fit.”
Toothy eyes drift to the side and narrow in consideration before he slowly nods in understanding, tugging at Florian’s grip in his hair. He quietly mutters as he finishes that last thought, “Baby mazes, got it.”
The silence around Florian changes again, in the way it does when he’s preparing to say something Serious. Toothy can feel it in the air. And in the back of his teeth. His full attention snaps back to Florian, a hand snaking under his jumper to rub slow patterns up and down his back.
“Calla had to make a decision. When she agreed to have the sexy bird man as her patron. She had to agree to be tied to the Staircase somehow. Which would mean that when she dies, she won’t go be with the rest of the Heralds. We found that out when we had the big meeting, all nine of us and our dragons. When Heralds die, they go to a special place. To be with a sort of dragon god.”
Florian wiggles up a little to look Toothy in the eyes. He puts a pigment-stained hand to Toothy’s cheek and worries at his cheekbone with his thumb. Then his hand flutters around a little, an outlet for his nerves, stroking across the side of Toothy’s bare neck, tangling in his hair again. But his eyes, jade green flame in the gloom, are steady.
“But I’m not going there. I’m not. I’m going wherever you go. When we’ve walked all our years on this earth together, and we finally rest, I’m resting with you. Anything else would just be.. stupid and dumb and- and unfair. ‘Cause you’re where I’m meant to be.”
There’s a stillness as Toothy holds his breath, apparently he’s forgotten how to breathe as he stares in unrestrained awe at Florian. Then in a rush he lets it go as he buries his face in Florian’s neck, holding him tight enough that when he speaks it vibrates slightly in Florian’s collarbone. Florian squeezes back, clinging to him like a limpet.
“I’ve never thought about the afterlife really,” Toothy vibrates. “Sure I’ve thought about dying, hard not to when I’ve spent so many years fighting things for a living. But after? That feels too big for me to think about. Knowing you’d be there with me makes it less scary though.”
He tilts his head up a bit, his hold loosening so that he can look at Florian’s face again, eyes wide and swimming with emotion.
“I thought a lifetime with you was beautiful enough, but a whole afterlife too? Babe, I’d fight dragons, gods, and whatever else to be beside you always. You’re right, it’s so stupid for us to not be right next to each other - I love you too much to be anywhere else.”
Another tear rolls down Florian’s cheek, Toothy is quick to move a hand there and gently wipe them away.
“Fuck you, I’d just stopped crying.”
But he laughs a little through the tears as well, leaning his forehead against Toothy’s.
“You and me, and the little guys,” he whispers. “Forever.”
Toothy grins as he whispers back, “Nowhere else, forever.”
He tugs at a strand of Toothy’s hair again.
“Hey babe? You should distract me now.”
Co-written with Toothy - Forever Crying In The Club About The Bois 🐻💚
There is a soft flutter of wings and the clicking of large talons on the wooden platform just outside the door, and then Florian gently pushes it open and steps in. He lets out a sigh that seems to come from deep in his bones, like he’s laid down some great and gruesome weight. He props his staff against the wall by the door and kicks off his boots. He strips down and washes his face and hands in the basin by the mirror. The dark shading on his face and hands doesn’t budge - the pigments of his paints is near enough a permanent fixture at this point - but he feels a little better for ridding himself of sweat and dirt and tears.
He roots around until he finds Toothy’s largest jumper (dark blue, soft cable knitted wool, holes for the thumbs, it swallows Florian like a nightgown, he steals it as often as he can) and pulls it on with another sigh. Then he lifts the blankets and slides in under them, wrapping an arm around his sleeping fiancé and pressing his entire face into his broad, warm back. He can still feel his heart beating a little too fast. He’s painfully sober and wishes he wasn’t, but that’s not a good reason to drink from the second teapot. He focuses on the smell of Toothy’s hair instead.
The wall of warmth rumbles slightly as Toothy shifts to wakefulness, he slides his arm to lay a hand over Florian’s to give it a soft squeeze.
“I didn’t think such a large sigh could come out of someone your size. How are the feelings back there?”
Florian tangles their fingers together, finding that he can’t squeeze them very well, because his hands are shaking.
“The feelings are… very big,” he says, in a very small voice. He sounds uncharacteristically shaken - almost afraid.
“Okay… okay.” Toothy’s voice stays calm as he starts to rub slow circles on the back of Florian's hand.
“I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere,” he says quietly, but it's with the conviction of someone who wouldn't be moved even if the gods asked. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want a distraction from it?”
“It’s just… we went on that stupid staircase and everything was so big, and I’m not made for that, I’m made for the little things. The little guys.”
Florian feels his eyes tear up again and tugs on the hand he’s holding.
“Can you just hold me for a little bit so I know where I am? So things aren’t bigger than here.”
Before he even finishes his sentence Toothy is twisting round to face him, drawing him in for a hug as he tangles their legs together. “I’ll hold you as long as you possibly want. I'm not sure what big fully means, but I know you're the best at looking after the little guys in our lil’ neck of the woods.”
He presses a few lingering kisses to Florian’s forehead as he keeps holding his bundle of druid and jumper close. Florian burrows as deep into Toothy’s neck as is humanly possible, and lets himself shake apart. There are a few more tears, some more trembling, but something deep in his chest, something in the back of his brain, knows that he’s with Toothy, and therefore everything must be alright. Eventually he sighs again, of relief.
“Calla got a new patron,” he mumbles. “Some sort of super sexy birdman who’s part of the Staircase. He definitely seems nicer than her last one.” He manages a wet little laugh, with some genuine mirth. “And at least she’s getting some now. They were getting down and dirty before we’d even left Oríanna’s house.”
He pokes one hand out of the massive sleeves and fiddles with a strand of Toothy’s hair. His voice is tired and a little dazed still, but calmer.
“That fucking Staircase, babe. Fuck. It goes… everywhere. And anytime. To all things that could possibly happen. It was too much. We even joked about it before we left - that it was funny that Oríanna was named the Herald of the Cosmos and I was named, like, The Dude Of Forests. But seeing all that was…”
He shakes his head a little, the top of it rubbing against Toothy’s chin.
“I’m good here. Like this. I was made to see the little things. The rats and the bats and the ducks. With you.”
Toothy tilts his head slightly to give better access to his hair, allowing him time to process exactly what’s been said. “With you always. The little things are the fucking best, just as inspiring and beautifully bizarre, no matter how vast the stars and staircases look.”
Florian sighs again, relief at being profoundly understood singing in his veins, finer than any tea from the second teapot.
“I know you said you were joking around,” Toothy says, “but no one was putting you down for all the work you’ve put in as a Herald were they?”
Florian shakes his head again, sinking his whole hand into Toothy’s thick hair.
“No, it was me. I made the joke. I started it. Probably because I thought it was true. And it was, but in a good way.”
“Okay. Good. I know they’re your family but I just-“
He pauses suddenly, like a thought has jumped up and shouted in his head for attention. “Wait, so Calla’s patron and her….that’s what she’s into? Didn’t know patrons could give the whole package deal like that. It’s good they seem better though.”
“Way better. She was blushing the whole time, it was really cute, actually. And the people in the Staircase showed her mazes. Calla feels about mazes the same way you feel about baby squirrels. It’ll be a good fit.”
Toothy eyes drift to the side and narrow in consideration before he slowly nods in understanding, tugging at Florian’s grip in his hair. He quietly mutters as he finishes that last thought, “Baby mazes, got it.”
The silence around Florian changes again, in the way it does when he’s preparing to say something Serious. Toothy can feel it in the air. And in the back of his teeth. His full attention snaps back to Florian, a hand snaking under his jumper to rub slow patterns up and down his back.
“Calla had to make a decision. When she agreed to have the sexy bird man as her patron. She had to agree to be tied to the Staircase somehow. Which would mean that when she dies, she won’t go be with the rest of the Heralds. We found that out when we had the big meeting, all nine of us and our dragons. When Heralds die, they go to a special place. To be with a sort of dragon god.”
Florian wiggles up a little to look Toothy in the eyes. He puts a pigment-stained hand to Toothy’s cheek and worries at his cheekbone with his thumb. Then his hand flutters around a little, an outlet for his nerves, stroking across the side of Toothy’s bare neck, tangling in his hair again. But his eyes, jade green flame in the gloom, are steady.
“But I’m not going there. I’m not. I’m going wherever you go. When we’ve walked all our years on this earth together, and we finally rest, I’m resting with you. Anything else would just be.. stupid and dumb and- and unfair. ‘Cause you’re where I’m meant to be.”
There’s a stillness as Toothy holds his breath, apparently he’s forgotten how to breathe as he stares in unrestrained awe at Florian. Then in a rush he lets it go as he buries his face in Florian’s neck, holding him tight enough that when he speaks it vibrates slightly in Florian’s collarbone. Florian squeezes back, clinging to him like a limpet.
“I’ve never thought about the afterlife really,” Toothy vibrates. “Sure I’ve thought about dying, hard not to when I’ve spent so many years fighting things for a living. But after? That feels too big for me to think about. Knowing you’d be there with me makes it less scary though.”
He tilts his head up a bit, his hold loosening so that he can look at Florian’s face again, eyes wide and swimming with emotion.
“I thought a lifetime with you was beautiful enough, but a whole afterlife too? Babe, I’d fight dragons, gods, and whatever else to be beside you always. You’re right, it’s so stupid for us to not be right next to each other - I love you too much to be anywhere else.”
Another tear rolls down Florian’s cheek, Toothy is quick to move a hand there and gently wipe them away.
“Fuck you, I’d just stopped crying.”
But he laughs a little through the tears as well, leaning his forehead against Toothy’s.
“You and me, and the little guys,” he whispers. “Forever.”
Toothy grins as he whispers back, “Nowhere else, forever.”
He tugs at a strand of Toothy’s hair again.
“Hey babe? You should distract me now.”
Co-written with Toothy - Forever Crying In The Club About The Bois 🐻💚