driftfleet | (no subject)

[This is an exceptionally dangerous, personal thing for both. The key to understanding someone was knowing how to look through their eyes, after all. That lead to anticipating, controlling, all manner of useful things.

But he had offered.

He opens his eyes fully and considers how he perceives Leto, the sight, the sound, the smell of him, the light that touches on other senses not so easily translated. And how to put that in a way that can be perceived? A challenge. He can address it as such.

What he makes with the light, moving his fingers gently under Leto's, has a vaguely recognizable shape to it, but it is not so contained by a simple boundary like an outline. There is a universe within it for a heart, blue galaxies for eyes, movements wrapped and woven of vector and lines of possibility. There is warmth and the sound of tickling laughter and shifting grains of sand, countless voices murmuring in a low undertone of conversation, and woven through it wyrm rather than worm.

Upon that is another layer of color and sound and the light brush of kinetic touch to convey the sense of kinship, amusement, shared secrets, flirtations, enemy and friend and not-quite-lover all together. Frustration and fatalism and the heavy weight of quarks unwinding second by second with infinite time made finite. The scent of old blood and new. The feeling of a heart waiting to be crushed between fingers, and the heavy salt taste of sweat and tears and grief. A silvery laugh. A slit of sly blue.

And it is without a doubt both beautiful and terrible, and beautiful because it is terrible, like Loki himself.]

[ Oh. He can feel his heart splinter. It was beautiful and awful, a reckoning for the both of them. Still, Leto is entranced and touched by it. He had lived his life, thinking that he cannot touch others. His mark can easily fade from their memories. After all, he had nothing to offer. No physicality, no real promises. There's nothing he can give that he hasn't already given away.

He gave everything away. At times, it rankles that nobody knew this, that nobody understood the depth of his sacrifice, the depth of his love.

But it seems at least one person saw him and not the shades he covered himself in. And it was still never meant to be.

He closes his eyes, and lets a tear slip. Water for the dead. Water for what could be, what was, what can never fully be ]

You have won.

[Victory. Like that, he has won. And all it required was to render himself entirely naked in all ways that count, risk the soft heart that he has not been able to eat, drain the well dry.

This, he will remember. And there is a certain internal smugness, with having won, but that was not his aim. This was an honest offer, the rarest sort of thing from him. He does not sharpen his truths the way he whets his lies, yet they seem to cut much more cruelly all the same, whether he wills or no. There's an irony to be had there. He wonders, if he shall ever have a victory that is the pure sort Thor seems to enjoy.

What is for Thor is not for Loki.

He reaches to wipe that tear from Leto's cheek with his thumb. He licks the drop of moisture away. It tastes as he imagined. Salt and water and Leto.

And then he slides his arm around Leto to pull the warm man to him,]

May I be saved from other such victories.

Edited 2016-04-27 08:40 (UTC)

[ Leto rests his head on Loki's shoulder. I want to die, he thinks absently, I want my sister. He feels like a worthless craven creature, not the bold sacrificial lamb he had made himself out to be.

Someone had to accept the agony, Ghanima had said once. She had never forgiven him for taking it.

Is this how he was meant to live? To come so close to the genuine bond of love only to know it will never come to pass? To always turn away when the spark is at its brightest?

Yes. The Golden Path was assured. There was no escape.

But he could still cry. ]

[Loki rests his chin against Leto's head. Absently, he smooths a hand over the man's hair.

This isn't the first time he's held someone who is weeping. There has been Rogue. There has been his little brother. But this is different, as the other two were from each other.

Loki isn't meant to comfort others. But if he cannot break his own rules, what's the purpose in having them?

And after a time, he touches Leto's chin lightly with his fingers to tilt it up, so he can place an equally light kiss on his lips.]

[ He lets out a quiet sigh at the kiss, recognizing the gesture for what it is. Leto finds it in him to smile. ]

You did me a great kindness today.

[ And that's why it hurt so much, but they both knew that. They knew how badly it could hurt. ]

[Loki offers him a crooked smile.]

Don't tell anyone. I've a reputation to maintain.

[He strokes Leto's cheek with the backs of his fingers. Once he's gotten to the point that he's willing to actually touch someone else, offer them some sort of intimacy, he tends to be greedy about it. Like a starving man confronted with a feast.]

[ He leans into it, his eyes fluttering. Like Loki, touch is rare and he often feels the need to indulge it. With a gentle touch, he takes Loki's hand, kissing his knuckles. ]

[He's just making things more difficult for himself. Loki knows this. He's caught himself in another situation where he wants too many things and has no clear path forward. He dares to let instinct guide him one step further and places a feather-light kiss by Leto's eye.]

[ Therein lies the problem with Gods. They know, they always know but they cannot help but scramble for it. ]

I have no more tears to shed for this.

[ It's his way of saying he doesn't feel guilty. ]

I wouldn't want you to waste what few you have to your name. [Teasing now. He doesn't generally feel guilty about anything, except for those hasty words to Frigga.]

[ His lips quirk. ]

It is not normal for Fremen to cry. It is not in our nature.

Ah.

I understand.

[He has wondered if Jotun cry, sometimes. He can only recall a few times he's shed tears in the last thousand years, and it's a question of if that's something he learned from the Asgardians or not. He's always laughed rather than cried.]

All the more precious an offering, for you to go against your nature.

Edited 2016-04-28 06:56 (UTC)

It is always precious.

[ Though he hesitates to say that of himself, water is always important, always treasured. In the desert, there was no greater gift. Finally looking at Loki, he asks ]

Even more so for those who treasure it.

[Tears have little meaning for him outside of context. The emotions of others are generally weapons for his use. But there are a few, notable exceptions.

Weapons for use against him. Offerings. Context is everything, as is source. He smooths his thumb over Leto's cheek.]

Yes.

[In this moment, Leto, you are treasured.]

[ He recognizes that. But Leto doesn't mind. ]

Thank you.

[Leto's caught the attention of a trickster, and not negatively. It's no small feat. Though Loki cannot help but tease:]

Shall you keep me, now that I have won?

[Though he rather doubts Leto will become boring now. He's delightfully complex.]

Being a kept thing is not much fun.

[ Not that he would know. He's never been kept by anyone. That kind of overwhelming desire is not meant for him. ]

More likely, I'll continue to make life . . . interesting.

I wouldn't know. [Though there is a certain charm to the thought that someone might find him that precious, even if he would be doomed to fight against it eventually. There are different lengths of eventually.

Though that does not stop him from coveting others, wanting to keep them.]

I would be most sorrowful if you did not.

Neither do I.

[ But he looks at Loki carefully. ]

But I think you do know, to some extent. You belong in someone's orbit.

[He considers this. He thinks Rogue would be rather horrified at the idea of him being a 'kept thing.' But he is rather kept, in its way. By his choice, assuredly, but...

Though the second part of that is even more of a question, after the more serious conversation he and Rogue had recently.]

Do I?

[He hadn't been uncertain about it, but the fact that Rogue had considered herself so changed and them out of step has left him a bit shaken.]

For all your godhood and chaos, Loki -- [ And his expression is kind but truthful. Leto doesn't believe in kindness without truth. Or at least his truth. He doesn't coddle or reassure. He simply speaks and the words carry themselves. ] -- I do not think loneliness is your role to play.

Ever has it been so.

[He shrugs, not self-pitying, but factual. This thing with Rogue has been very different for him. And now... well, who knows what will happen, and he doesn't like the uncertainty. Particularly not when it's something that isn't his fault.]

Though that is not what I meant.

You are in mine.

[ Leto will not say if it is enough, because it isn't. They need more, want more, exist to be more to others. One orbit isn't enough for a heavenly body. ]

Or perhaps you are in mine. I am a wandering planet.

[He traces a path down Leto's arm with one finger, draws a circle in his palm.]

And what trouble shall come of it?

[Because that is the trouble. One orbit has never been enough for him. Yet as he lives Rogue, that must be enough. He has promised her as much. And he is trying. And failing, a bit at a time. He doesn't know how to stop failing.]

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