IC Inbox for lastvoyages

[cephalopunk]

Comments

[perfectly_average]

[Jamil breathes a silent breath of relief before responding.]

Good, you're doing great, my Oasis.

[He occasionally responds with some form of praise, never pausing as he continues making his way there. It isn't much later, either, before he knocks on the door.]

[cephalopunk]

[When the knock on the door comes, it takes a moment for Azul to open it.

He has sweat running down his forehead, expression outright exhausted as he moves to let Jamil in.]

[perfectly_average]

[He doesn't say a word, simply moving to enter the room before closing the door behind him.

Gently, he pulls Azul into a tight embrace, one hand running through his boyfriend's hair.]

[cephalopunk]

[Azul slumps against him, hands coming up to outright cling.]

She won't listen, Jamil. No matter what I say, she's— she's intent on reading everything.

[A shudder goes through his body.]

Damnit, why...?

[perfectly_average]

[Jamil is quiet for a moment.]

Since she refuses to refrain from reading it all, why don't we focus on the parts you can change?

[He doesn't want to be the one to toss out a solution, simply because he's the one with an uncompromised mindset. But he became used to guiding towards the correct answers, back home.]

Is there anything that could make it easier to bear?

[cephalopunk]

[His grip on Jamil tightens. Just the thought of her reading anything to do with that has his stomach in knots.

Tersely:]

... I could threaten to never forgive her for it.

[perfectly_average]

I don't think that would do much, unfortunately. You're going to be working with her for a while, yes? How about aiming more towards a compromise? Something that would require cooperation, from both sides.

[Jamil gently leans back, taking Azul's face into his hands. He gives him a small smile, gently asking:]

How would you handle it if it was me?

[cephalopunk]

[He looks back at Jamil, expression somewhere between frustrated, anguished and defeated.

He lets out a sigh.]

If it were you... I'd hope you'd listen to my request to not read a specific part.

[perfectly_average]

[Gently, he brushes his thumbs over Azul's cheeks.]

And if I absolutely had to? If I had no choice?

[Jamil gently adds:]

What could make it at least bearable?

[cephalopunk]

[Azul's eyes fall closed. Slowly, he relaxes under Jamil's gentle touches.]

...it being you would make it bearable.

[perfectly_average]

[He blinks, feeling his cheeks warm the tiniest bit.]

What if it could still be me there? And you?

[cephalopunk]

[He's simply quiet for several moments, breathing much slower and more evenly than he was.

Finally, he responds:]

Alright.

[He's definitely not happy by any means, but he certainly seems much calmer and more willing to cooperate.

Another breath, and he opens his eyes.]

... alright.

[He brings up his hand to catch Jamil's wrist, head turning so he can press a grateful kiss into his palm.]

Thank you, my Scarabian Jewel.

[perfectly_average]

[His cheeks flush as his hand is kissed like that. With a soft sound, he nods.]

You're welcome.

[Jamil leans up to kiss Azul's cheek.]

Try asking her if we can do it that way. I can make some tea and bring some light snacks. Tea that calms the nerves, and snacks that can serve as something else to focus on.

[cephalopunk]

[He briefly holds a blink, and nods. He gives one more kiss to Jamil's cheek, then goes over to where the device is on the floor and picks it up. Slowly, he walks over to his couch and takes a seat.

For a moment, he just stares at the device, but eventually he does raise his other hand to return Franky's last message.]

[perfectly_average]

[He sits next to Azul, pausing a moment before leaning to rest his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. Then, after the mer's message is sent, he lightly rests a hand on the other teen's thigh. Innocently, of course.]

I know that had to be difficult. You did great, though.

[cephalopunk]

[He deflates a bit, leaning his head against Jamil's in turn as he lets his hands fall to his lap. He closes his eyes, and a soft noise comes out of his throat at the praise, cheeks darkening.]

I haven't even asked her yet...

[perfectly_average]

[Jamil smirks lightly.]

I'm aware.

[But he isn't rescinding what he said, so!]

[cephalopunk]

[He huffs lightly. He hardly thinks that warranted such praise...

And then comes Franky's response. He takes a deep breath, and brings up the device and responds.

He sags after the message is sent off, letting out a sigh.]

[perfectly_average]

[Jamil's smirk softens into a smile. He doesn't say anything else, for now, instead shifting his head to kiss Azul's cheek.]

[cephalopunk]

[Azul turns his head, nuzzling gently into Jamil.

When Franky's message comes, there's definitely quite a bit of tension leaving his body. He looks to Jamil.]

I can work around whatever schedule you have.

[perfectly_average]

Tomorrow around lunchtime works for me.

[He can adjust his schedule, if needed.]

[cephalopunk]

[He sends off that message, then lets out another sigh, turning his head and looking at Jamil.

After a moment, his hand comes up to caress his cheek, and he moves forward, touching their foreheads together.

He murmurs:]

I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't here, my Jewel.

[perfectly_average]

[There's a faint look of surprise as he stares up at Azul. The words - combined with such a soft touch, on top of it all - have him feeling a little strange. But he manages to keep his reaction minimal, a quietly amused sort of sound given in response.]

But I am here.

[So no need to imagine an alternate timeline.]

[cephalopunk]

Indeed you are.

[He pulls back and smiles fondly. A hand takes Jamil's, and there's no hesitation, no shyness as he brings that hand up and gently kisses the knuckles, all while maintaining eye contact.]

And for that, [He murmurs against the skin] I am grateful beyond words.

[perfectly_average]

[Okay, no, Azul isn't supposed to be the one flustering him to such a degree! This game is played the other way around!!

Jamil bites back a flustered sound, his gaze shifting to look at something off to the side. He doesn't manage a verbal response, at all.]