deercountry | the kids cried out ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ sᴛᴏᴘ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ

[ falco was a little reluctant to leave jun after pulling him and vi out of the sleeper farm. even when they were connected— it took time for falco to find him. he could run out of class or whatever it was that he was doing at the drop of a pin now, constantly alert to any sort of change in the other boy's humor. sometimes, he would have to leave, and when he must, he will. but falco was always back, and insistent that he stay the night(s). today, when he's back from class, in inhales and settles his skipping heart before entering jun's room with his messenger bag and books with the day's notes and materials. within the bag is an assortment of snacks and treatments to attempt to heal his wounds at a quicker rate. black the aches out. make it as comfortable as possible.

confetti's container is also in there, but he doesn't let him out. not unless it's a good idea to. ]

How are you feeling?

[ he's so glad to be back here, and to see jun's face with color. . ]

[Jun tries to insist that Falco go to class - classes are important. But at least he's getting the notes, and Falco's not a bad note-taker. He's trying to rest, but it's hard. He spends much of the days watching things on the omni or texting people (or trying to) and the rest of the time just... sleeping. He's... really tired.]

[He wonders if sleepers can grow organs back? Or if they could find a way, the price might be too high.]

[His dreams are disturbed, mostly panic and vague shapes. Sometimes they're clearer, and when they are they're terrible. People he cares about being stuck in the sleeper farm, either with things missing or worse. He can't do anything... he can't do anything. That's why he has to be stronger. That's why he has to train. But right now he can't, and he feels useless.]

[He lets Falco try treatments, and while he's healing up faster than he thought he might there's still a ways to go before even the stitching can be pulled out. He's going to have a scar, and the thought makes him feel somewhat sick. At least he won't be able to see most of it...]

[Sometimes when Falco enters the room he's sleeping, but the past few days his omen has been able to manifest, Jun's body strong enough to exist without the boost. He's nudged awake as Falco enters, staring a little blearily at his friend. His face is indeed less pale, his body replenishing his blood faster than a normal person. He's still not at a hundred percent, but it's far better than the near-calamitous state he was found in. His glasses are at the bedside table but... he doesn't need them to feel Falco's presence. He reaches out for his friend's hand and presses it to his heart. He's alive. It's okay.]

A little better than yesterday... definitely not yet in any shape to go running, though.

[It's a joke, a little one - they both know he's going to need more rest.]

[ it takes the average human body about two weeks to pull out stitches, and he imagines if they’re made neatly, correctly— jun’s were catastrophic for one with an eye for first aid. even falco could do better than this, exposed to it earlier in life and definitely more diligent about it. his body would be able to function with only a single kidney, but . . .

it felt a bit unfair, that falco could heal his wounds in a matter of minutes, and even replenish his own missing parts. if there was a way to only share that portion of the ability without the rest of its complications— it’d be nice. an impossibility not worth thinking too much about.

instead, he makes his way over to the bed’s edge beside jun, and allows his hand to be met halfway. alive, yes, and a healthy beat, at that. after a moment of feeling it thrum in the middle of his chest, falco rubs with a friendly, caring stroke of his fingers before pulling his hand back to his lap. he’s smiling, at least. it was a good shot at a joke. he’s happy he’s having the energy to. ]

You’re going to need another few weeks for that. We can take small walks, until then.

[ they were healthy to keep him moving— at least once a day, even if it was around the room, or around the house. ]

. . . You could look at the notes later, if you want.

Yeah...

[He's smiling a little too, just... glad to be in Falco's presence. The other makes him feel warm and fuzzy, and he's just happy to be around the other boy. He's alive, he's safe... he might not be healed but he's at least here and able to walk and talk. It could have been worse.]

[It can always be worse, especially in Trench.]

I'll look in a bit. But... right now...

[He stretches a bit and puts a hand to his back. A tiny bit of glitter-blood smears onto his finger and he wrinkles his nose.]

I think it's going to take a bit before I can really walk much.

[ the buzzing warmth from one end of the bond generates feedback that only bounces the same thing back two-fold— falco feels it. he’d felt it beforehand, from himself, but now it’s just a mirror. and maybe a little hard to tell where one’s feelings started and the other’s ended.

it’s not something he’s complaining about, but seeing the sheen of glitter on his fingertips shoots in a desire to care for rather than immediate alarm. there’s nothing to worry about when leakage was bound to happen. he could make it more comfortable, at least, and save fabrics from a few glitter smudges. ]

Want me to clean them for you?

[ it’s had enough breathing, and might do well patched up. in his bag, falco brought his little aid kit, flips open the flap and holds it up halfway from its handle with a crooked smile. ]

I... yeah.

[He turns and pulls his shirt up to reveal the stitches. A few of them are leaking... he's not concerned since it doesn't feel like a large leak, but it still needs to be treated - and Falco's going to be able to do that more easily than Jun can. It's just a fact.]

Thanks...

[He knows he doesn't have to thank Falco - the boy can feel the small feeling of gratitude from Jun. But he should say it anyway - he doesn't have to lose manners just because he's bonded to the other boy.]

... I'm sorry.

[It's not his fault he was captured, and he knows that. But to put Falco through all of that pain - mentally, physically, and emotionally...]

Edited 2022-11-20 02:12 (UTC)

[ time to prep ye old work station. getting his kit out properly and setting it on the floor, falco opens it up and clicks open the top to pull out the first thing covering the belongings: a folded square fabric that he’s extending over his legs. he’s have to bend his back a bit of jun was sitting up, so maybe guiding him to lay down sideways would help a little more. he does it all with gentle hands and an appreciative smile to his words and thankfulness (he couldn’t put a finger on how gratefulness actually felt, only that he felt it). he’s got ointment vials popped open and cotton balls at the ready soaked with a disinfecting agent, wet and ready to clean around the edges with first. this padding and cleaning is featherlight, but effectively firm where it needs to be. being too light wouldn’t get it clean, and being too harsh would hurt. he needs to have a balanced in-between that he’s trying his best to keep now.

but that didn’t mean his brows wouldn’t crease some at the apology. ]

You know you don’t have anything to be apologizing for.

[He turns so it's easier for Falco to get to the wounds, keeping his mouth shut even as the slight pain washes over him. It's not Falco's fault - it's just a natural reaction to his skin being moved around. And Falco's being as gentle as he can.]

[He sighs and closes his eyes, even though Falco can't see it.]

I got caught, and I put you in danger when you came after me. And... because I got hurt, you had to feel it.

Anyone could get caught. I got caught last year.

[ it’s still hurting— he can feel that and it’s definitely not comfortable. tolerant or not, he’s been through enough. briefly, falco stops what he’s doing for another dab into a different vial. this one is made with his blood, diluted, and featherlight paps over and on the site should dull the pain away rather quickly like numbing lidocaine. ]

Jun . . . I found you because I felt you. If it hadn’t been for that— it might’ve been too late for you and Vi. [ after waiting a few moments for the numbing to truly take effect, he returns to the cleaning. much better, now that he’s at most feel pressure (perhaps not even), no pain. ] I don’t regret feeling hurt. I’m glad for it.

[ and after a moment, he adds: ]

It made me stronger.

[The pain stops and his muscles untense in relief, his breathing a little bit easier.]

I know. I'm grateful for that. You know that. But I... I never want to cause you pain. You're... too kind.

[His eyes mist up a little bit, and he's glad that he's turned away from the other boy for the moment.]

even with what we've both been through, we can still be hurt. And I... I just want you to feel good things from now on. Not... not awful things. I'm trying...

[ cleaning freely now, falco goes quiet. it’s such a touchy topic. ]

. . . I know. Thank you so much.

[ but it would be fair to chime in with something just not plausible, ever. falco presses his lips together as he thinks it through, and eventually comes to a consensus. ]

Things that can hurt us are always going to be external. [ wherever they went— deer country, oregon, california or 1961, hardships were a part of living. there was no perfect place and no amount of hopeful dreaming they could have to shield themselves from the reality of it. jun’s eyes were wet, he couldn’t see them— but he soothes the pricking with a free hand over his arm. ] But, you . . . You don’t cause me pain. You help numb it up.

It’s how we live past those things that makes living worth it, I think.

I know... I know.

[He takes a few deep breaths, leaning into Falco's touch. It's warm and inviting and he doesn't have anything to fear from the other boy. It's safe. He's safe.]

Probably. I'm just... scared, I guess. Of getting you hurt. I know you can take a lot of punishment, but you shouldn't have to.

You deserve nothing but kindness.

[ you do, too. he could say that. that's what i want to give you. yes, that, as well. he doesn't want jun to get hurt again, knows it's absolute hogwash to think he wouldn't but that didn't falco would stop trying to make sure he was there when he always needed it. hell, it'd make him try harder. a heat swells up within him until what was in his chest makes his face swelter green, even as he still silently works with cotton balls, gloves and forceps. it gets harder to ignore. it gets louder in him, yelling despite his quiet. what if something else happens to jun and jun doesn't know? what if something happens to him and jun doesn't know? he's been through this before.

he's learned to take his chances as they come because they are young and the world they live in doesn't care. the inhale he takes is quick in preparation and by now, his hovering hands are shaking when he finally blurts out what's been making his heart race so fast: ]

—I like you.

[He feels that heat and embarrassment and strange... strange feeling. He turns and stares at Falco over his shoulder. Did he just -]

... What... kind of 'like'?

[ even with falco’s own eyes constantly diverting, he knows they’re on him. he’s taken the microphone and just, like. yelled into it, after all! it’s to be expected, but hardly made any easier. now it’s even hard to keep cleaning, but good thing he’s actually finished? it allows him to place his tools on the towel over his lap, and sort of busy himself with putting away the smaller things. gloves off, gauze out, and tape, too.

he hovers there, with everything in his lap, in silence, with his eyes finally diverting the most to what he’s gathered. his face is too green to wander up, and his heart hasn’t quit battering in his ears.

until they do. they have to, to be honest with his words. he wants to stay true to them. his eyes meet jun’s to elaborate, at last. ]

Like . . . Like.

[ it felt as if weights have left his shoulders. he’s never liked a boy, even though it wasn’t a problem. but it was different and new and making his chest do all sorts of things. ]

I just— wanted you to know. N-not to make anything harder, I— [ he swallows so dry his voice may crack. ] I just want . . . To see you happy. However that is.

[He stares back into Falco's eyes, shifting so he's facing the other more properly.]

[This could be so many things. He just wants to know which one so he knows how to react. He reaches out and takes Falco's hand, squeezing it gently.]

Falco. Which kind of like? You still haven't said it. And... I don't want to assume things. I'm not... good at relationships. You know that... and it's still tough for me to work out what's going on in a relationship.

So I need you to tell me. What kind of like are you talking about?

[He can feel his own heart pounding, but he needs to know. He needs the facts before he assumes something and does something horrible.]

[ falco visibly and audibly fumbles with his words. confessing makes people so dumb. like, so dumb! no matter how many times he thought he was okay practicing in front of a mirror, it's not going as planned and throwing him off loop. now he can hardly busy himself with the rest of the work with jun turning around.

he had to breathe in, calm down, and look for words that made sense. breathe in, calm down— perle is encouraging and adds to his thoughts. that's it, falco. you've got it. not too much, but not too little. who knew that would come to use? ]

It's— The kind of like, um, in 'Eros', that's— romantic.

[He watches Falco, calmly observing as he seems to go through about twelve different shades of green. At least he knows now that it's a blush and not him being sick...]

[He has a suspicion, but when Falco says it - ... yeah. Yeah, he thought so. He squeezes the other's hand reassuringly. He's not going anywhere. He's here. He's solid and real and there's nothing that's going to tear him away from Falco. His voice is quiet and calm when he speaks, though it's taking some effort to keep it that way.]

I mean... I'm not... good with emotions. I barely know my own, let alone how to sort things out from yours. But I...

[He ducks his head a little bit.]

That post a month or so ago about how to know if you had feelings for someone... that was... me. But I... you were going through a lot, so you probably didn't see it. But I... people kept telling me to say something before it was too late.

I just...

[He leans in and presses his forehead against Falco's, breathing in sync with him.]

I'm scared you're going to get hurt. That one day we're going to be out somewhere and... and something will happen.

[He can still hear the bang of the gun, still feel the bullet whizzing past him.]

But I'm... tired of being scared.

... I l -

[Damn it, he's trying. Give him a second while his entire face goes red.]

I love you too.

[ jun was right, on that hand of things; so much had happened when he had returned from the cocoon that didn't even look at his omni, he didn't see how the network was fairing. he didn't know and had little idea that jun was in mutual agreement. he listens, only blinking occasionally, but his hazel eyes grow big, and his shades of green only running so deep it's close to hunter, and he feels absolutely hot.

he's heard love and he only hadn't used it to rush anything as he has in the past, but that— that is what this is, right? even if attraction fiddles away with time or something, what would still remain was love. he wants to say something, but his mouth runs dry. the pressure against his forehead is a hovering presence he's hyperaware of. there are a pair of eyes at the level of his own, his chest is tight, and he doesn't know if he should breathe in and risk it feeling so deep or heavy. was his tummy a tumbler right now? very. a fuzzy tumbler that's going to give way to nice, heated clothes on a chilly day. that's exactly how he's feeling.

it's almost a little too much for him to go through at once. he needs a moment. for one, falco probably looks so silly with rubber gloves and gauze with tape still ready to be shredded into rectangles on his lap. it's not bad. this is not bad at all, he's actually feeling— the best he's felt in a while. the anxious jittering in his chest is making his limbs feel limp and his head just a touch dizzy, but not the kind he'd fall from.

falco's lips pull back into a smile that keeps switching between pursed and flatlined. maybe he should take the gloves off? he doesn't need them now, anyway. he could hold his hand better, just slink his fingers into his own and hold and— his palms are stupidly sweaty. ]

W-wow. [ and that's all he says for a moment, dumbly, with his smile going crooked and his head pulling back some just for one reason. ] I, um— want to kiss your forehead.

[ he is melting and this might as well be . . . one of the best days of his little life so far. ]

... Go ahead.

[He puts his hands on Falco's shoulders, squeezing gently. He isn't sure what this feeling is, but... he likes it. Even if his face is totally red...]

. . . Okay.

[ it’s . . . well, it’s much better than nice. falco’s chest goes a flutter with skipping beats when confessing not only goes super Well, but— this!! his first peck anywhere!!

his inhale is so shallow it’s barely a hitch, but he does dip his head down just enough, chin back and lips forward, to press them chaste and sweet to the middle of the boy’s forehead. not too fast or too lingering, just . . . there. there’s hair in the way, but warm was the skin beneath it, and wherever else he happened to touch.

that. he’s tumbling inside like a raging spinner. he’s melting. melting, i say! and he cannot help, after a moment, to embrace jun around the head and shoulders. ]

[He feels warm, but it's not a fever. It's... like being wrapped in a warm blanket. He lets out a long breath and lifts his head once Falco's done, nuzzling into him. It's... nice. He's safe, and he feels comfortable and fuzzy when he's around Falco.]

[He tugs the other boy, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed.]

You're so special to me... I... I want to protect you. I'm scared of something bad happening to you. But... but know that I'll always be here to help you.

[At least he was taken, not Falco. At least he was hurt, not Falco.]

You're such a good person...

[He lifts a hand to brush through Falco's hair gently. He's careful to not tug, just gently carding through the strands and scritching gently.]

You make me happy... I hope I can make you happy, too.

[ that was something that had been nagging at him lately— was he still a good person? he wanted to be, but his choices in action hadn’t reflected the one thing he’s always tried to steer from. he thinks about it every day, every night, when his thoughts aren’t occupied. was it still just to be called “good”? was that even possible in the place they’re in? he thought it was, and . . .

now might not be a good time to put a damper on a mood so sweet, inviting and refreshing. so relieving and daunting all at once. hands and fingers so gently swiping through his short-cut strands of sandy hair. he doesn’t know how much heat his skin could take. he wouldn’t melt, right?

because on the inside he was already reduced to a puddle. ]

You already do. [ he gestures to the boy’s back, wanting to make him comfortable to do whatever he wanted. whether it was to lay down again, eat or read, watch something, go for a walk— ] Let me wrap you up. Then whatever you want to do— I want to do it with you.

I... okay. I just... want to hug you. I just... let me hold you so I know things will be okay.

[Because things are always better when Falco's around. He's so strong and sweet, caring and fierce... how did he ever get this lucky?]

Thank you, Falco. For... for being here for me.

[ it's that sort of thing that just washes his worry away, even if it's for a moment, or a few hours. ]

. . . I'm thankful I can be.

[ it's time to get that gauze around him, though. with access to his back, falco begins to finish up on keeping the wounds protectively padded, and at the same time, somewhat breathable. if there was any more draining to be had, it'd soak it up. falco is gentle in pulling down his shirt to cover everything up, clicking his things away back in his travel kit of aids— and couldn't feel more buzzingly blissful.

—so, hug? his arms are held a little openly for a moment, but he's already leaning about halfway forward. ]

@icanhearscreams

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