Yeah cool man I'm here already, so swing by anytime
( Sure enough, in an hour's time, that's where he'll be.
Not expecting Noctis the exact minute he shows up, Jonas is smoking—a real cigarette—just outside of his craft in one of the thick coats provided to him by the Theorem. It has his division's patch on the shoulders, "R&A" in bold, bright letters. On the back, "Research and Archives" is visible, branding him a scientist when he's really anything but.
He doesn't act caught red-handed with the filter between his lips, ignoring that it causes him the most pathetic headache he's personally experienced, but he does look around as if to search for a place to stub it out. )
Hey.
Sorry, let me finish this real quick, and we can head up top in a sec. Your leg okay?
[ He's late even by their own loose standards of "anytime" or "like an hour", taking around an hour and a half to finally make his appearance. He isn't wearing any symbols of allegiance to his own division, but he does smell suspiciously like the mess tent and the covered plastic dish in his hand makes it even clearer where he's come from and what his work has been for the evening. ]
No big deal, take your time with it. [ Shoulders lift in response to a gust of cool air, gaze already turned upward at the impressive starscape above. ]
Leg's fine. More importantly I didn't know if you ate so I brought something over. It's some kind of fried rice, nothing good but at least edible tonight.
I'll eat basically whatever. Thanks, ( he responds in a puff of smoke, obviously still holding more in his lungs.
Briefly, he considers offering Noctis one.
Oh, uh, no thanks. I mean, I literally just said the clean air thing, so.
Instead, the still-burning butt of the cigarette is flicked with odd immediacy into the sand. Externally, it doesn't seem like he's doing anything more than rushing.
With a strong shrug of his shoulder, Jonas gestures upward. )
I can boost you if you want. The wing's the easiest place to get up.
[ With a glance Noctis confirms he agrees with that assessment, tightening his hold on the small container of food. He thinks to add that Jonas doesn't need to rush but it would feel like he's repeating himself, and not fast enough to keep him from wasting half that cigarette anyway.
Aren't those rare out here? ]
Sure. [ If he had access to his magic he wouldn't need the help. Hardly something he needs to be focused on now as he steps closer, a hand on Jonas's shoulder to steady himself when he moves into position to lift him. ]
Deal. ( A quick approval when Noctis touches his shoulder; he imagines he can feel the warmth of his hand permeating through the thick material.
The wing of his ship is a wooden fence held together with rusted nails and wire.
Forming a foothold by lacing his fingers together, Jonas waits until Noctis' boot is slotted and pulls upward before easily pushing him the rest of the way. His friend is light, not unlike Alex was, but with far more muscle control. It's like releasing a kettlebell whose momentum seems to maintain until it stops, finding it unnecessary to check that he made it up alright.
Instead, Jonas immediately begins his climb with a shove of a foot into a leading edge slat. )
Okay— ( Expectantly, knowing Noctis will be there, he casts a hand up for assistance. )
[ Jonas is strong but he already suspected that, having faith that he won't drop him and that makes the job of being boosted up onto the wing – that he then neatly pulls himself onto – a simple one. Boots plant against the flat surface as he turns, food already placed onto the ship's body with a lean so he can devote all his attention and both free hands to the task of hoisting Jonas up with him.
A gloved hand grips low on his arm as he pulls with his own surprising strength, head only turning away when his friend is forced to crawl into his space and he's inspired to rapidly pull himself back out of the way. ]
You good?
[ It's colder up here, a reality he didn't prepare well enough for in his own thin jacket, but no complaints escape pressed lips... yet. ]
Here– [ Palms press against the ship's surface as he scoots himself further back, legs still close to the wing but with the rest of his body situated well out of Jonas's way to offer him more space. ] Food's here too if you want it now. They only had chopsticks clean when I was heading out, so hope that works for you.
( Noctis pulls him up with little effort. That's the soldier in him, Jonas thinks, though the prince seems more present now, even if both are hidden behind the friend he missed the last few days. Jonas crouches there to survey their position on the ship, taking a knee against the next bluster of wind. )
Oh, yeah, I've been up here a couple of times so far. It's way easier when you pull me, though; I look like I'm trying to ride a bike mid-air when it's just me. ( Self-deprecating humour is used to reduce tension in their stilted conversation, and Noctis helps further by offering the food again.
He can't tell him he isn't hungry, but... )
I, uh, ( he begins, joining Noctis where the wing meets the fuselage. He deposits himself there, arm against arm, peering down at the container of food with a sheepish smile. ) I can't actually use them? I've tried before, but I... I could never figure it out.
It's okay, though, really. I'll eat after you and, like... shake it into my mouth or something.
... shake it into your mouth, [ he repeats with some level of disbelief, meeting Jonas's eyes before looking pointedly down at the tray of food that has those wrapped chopsticks affixed to its lid. ]
No way. Me showing you how to use them will be less annoying than watching you do that. [ Those palms remain pressed to the ship's hull as he leans back, unable to muster any protest to the arm against his when it's an obvious need for both of them in this chill. But– ]
Anyway I already ate. All that's yours, so you don't have to rush with it like you did with the cigarette if you're not ready.
Don't give it all away just yet; I bet you'll be hungry after the three hours it takes me to learn how to hold them. ( My doubt in myself is strong, it's stronger than my will to eat.
Wouldn't that be a bit embarrassing? He has very little pride left, but scissoring chopsticks together and dropping rice everywhere sounds wasteful. If Noctis wants to teach him, though...
Well, he's in a repentant mood. He's ready to do just about anything his friend tells him to. )
I didn't rush, by the way. I, like... burnt my finger.
( Removing the chopsticks from the lid, Jonas gestures upward at the stars with them. )
Look, a distraction— ( Feigns tipping the container of rice against his mouth and shaking, lid still on. )
[ Blue eyes soften as he watches his friend, the exaggerated gesture causing the corners of his mouth to turn upward into a small, reluctant smile. It's hard not to be charmed by him.
He's sweet, self-deprecating in a goofy way that makes Noctis want to laugh, and that in itself is a striking rarity. Lately it's only been even more so. ]
Nice try. Is that why I came here? To look at the stars so you have privacy to eat?
[ He does look up, however, that smile fading as he stares upward at a blanket of stars he doesn't recognize. Eos could be any one of them, he's sure of that, a distant brilliant light reaching back out for him. ]
... it feels like we've been here a lot longer than we have. You get that too?
( Noctis' dissolving smile is observed with a lowering of the container. Even after it's gone, replaced by a contemplative look, eyes linger.
With a concept of time as strange as his, Jonas wonders if he should disagree with the statement. He thinks he can split the difference, however, by offering something more than a yes or no: )
I know what you mean.
( It's hard to know what else to say, so he lapses into a short silence. Their initial conversation feels done and dusted, and another, more serious one begins. Though he knows he never will be, he tries to get ready. )
It's only been a couple of months, right? You must be missing home—your friends.
[ Jonas is quiet for a few moments, just enough for Noctis to self-reflect, and that carefully worded answer has him turning his head. Of course, he wants to agree, but first– ]
Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say to you. [ Already he's struggling to articulate his thoughts, and putting his foot in his mouth when he knows pieces of Jonas's story is insensitive. A hand drags through his hair as he suddenly sits up, choosing to instead hunch forward over bent knees. ]
I guess what I mean is it feels like we've known each other for a long time.
So yeah, sure. I want to go home. I need to go home. But I fell into a rhythm too fast here.
It wasn't, seriously, ( Jonas explains, nudging his elbow in against Noctis' side. ) It's weird, it's crazy... I really don't mind, I just didn't want to lie to you.
( He wants to lean forward with Noctis. Put an arm around his shoulders. Comfort him. It helps not to look inward. To take care of someone instead of facing the stars and trying not to feel an overwhelming sense of confusion.
Anchored to this moment, he only really feels grateful. )
Do you mean you got used to things too quickly, or... Do things feel, like, routine now?
[ Jonas dismisses his words and he wonders if it's selfish to feel relieved that they hadn't been taken too seriously. Or... maybe it's more that everything right now has him feeling a sense of guilt, even a friend accepting an apology. ]
The first one. Parts of it, anyway.
Back home, things are more complicated than I told you they were. And besides that... even though I have my friends, they're feeling the weight of it all too. They look at me and they see someone they care about, but it's not like we can pretend they don't see something else too. They see their prince, and they see the duties they have to fulfill.
[ Fingers curl against his arm, ignoring the goosebumps on exposed skin from the increasingly cool air as he tries to force himself through thoughts he's been trying to arrange in order for days. ]
You... and Cain too, you don't see that. You just see me. And it's not like I want to get used to that. But maybe I was, a little. So the other day when I thought something was changing with us already, and maybe I was the odd man out, I just... tensed up.
It's stupid. I get that. I shouldn't even be thinking about any of this at all.
( Bearing a weight alone, not wanting to burden anyone with it... That's so typically Noctis, one of many things he's learned about him in the two months they've known each other; he should've expected this to happen. If he had, though, would he have spoken to him any differently?
Maybe he would've asked him how he was feeling, or if he'd like to hang out with them more often. If he'd like to stay in the same tent, like on the night they hugged. )
Noctis... Hey, c'mere...
( Noctis helped him through his panic by casting an arm around him. Jonas repays him by doing the same, not unperceptive enough to miss how he holds himself against the cold. In a deep lean forward, he joins his friend in that hunched position, knees coming up to better huddle in with him. )
It's not stupid. It's not stupid, and you didn't do anything wrong. We had a misunderstanding, and—Look, we're talking about it now, right?
( His grip on Noctis' far shoulder tightens, a squeeze to emphasize a point. )
It's okay to tense up. To want to be, like... wanted. To be protective of that feeling—especially if it's kind of new to you.
[ "Tensed up" feels like a woefully inadequate way to describe his reaction to learning that his new friends were intimately involved. Or to learn that Jonas had advocated for him to Cain, leading to such a slew of conflicting emotion that it had taken this many days to untangle. Now that he has, while purposefully leaving many threads untraced, he still attempts to downplay it. "Tensed up" is how he feels instead when that arm encircles his shoulders, taking a second or two to ease back into a gesture that's still so unfamiliar but now a little less so than it used to be. It's warm, and safe. It's comfort.
He feels tired. He feels like he wants to cry. And he feels so fucking weak, childish, and guilty for all of it. ]
My friends want me around, [ he manages suddenly through a tight throat, as if the idea of leaving them undefended is too abhorrent to set aside right now. ]
It's just different. [ Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto would never choose to leave his side, he knows that. But at the same time, they'd never really had the opportunity to consider that. Jonas has, and Cain has. Now here they are, and he's being embraced just for explaining his side in an argument that never should've happened. Did he earn this? ]
I don't know where they are right now. Just that I should be there with them, fighting with them. And instead I'm just thinking about myself, again.
Hey, ( he whispers, ducking his head to get closer to him. There's cigarette smoke on his breath when he speaks. ) It's okay. I know it doesn't feel like it, but...
( Something solidifies in him, then. As he trails off, he realizes that Noctis offered to bring him back to Eos with him, and he hasn't made the same promise back. Yes, maybe Noctis mistakenly thought they were from the same land, that Jonas was one of his people, but do the semantics really matter?
Shaking his head, his fingers squeeze again, kneading into his friend's upper arm. )
You'll get back there. I'll help in any way that I can, I promise. I'm coming too, remember? ( The joke sounds choked up, emotion quickly swallowed so that he can provide advice he wishes someone told him years ago: ) Until then, you have to think about yourself. That's how you take care of yourself: make sure you're good, and when you see them again, they'll know you totally thrived—wherever the fuck you were. That you're strong and brave, and you did that.
I... I would want to know that. That you actually lived—relied on people—instead of stretching yourself too thin.
[ Jonas's voice falters and it's like a fist to his chest, leaving his throat tight and his breath uneven. His head turns, feeling deeply avoidant and vulnerable but his need to see his face outweighs that. He's glad he does, too, able to see the emotion in warm hazel eyes as his friend says one of the kindest things he's sure he's ever heard. Something as foreign as the rest of his experiences here, always told to push forward and be strong and hold his head high but never to reflect and look out for himself. That's what his attendants are for. And without them here... maybe Jonas is right. ]
Yeah. [ His voice sounds rough and affected when he ekes the word out, turning away in another increasingly futile bid to regain his composure. ]
Relying on you feels like all I've done... maybe you don't see it, but I do. So... thanks. I owe you a lot already.
More, maybe, if I say I don't wanna' let you get stuck anywhere else. If that means making sure you have a place in Eos, then that was never a joke to me. It's my job to protect my people, and... I already see you like that. [ A full body shiver racks him after the difficult words, tense and braced for more. Things he knows he needs to say, but first he wants to return even an ounce of that affection. Underpracticed and awkward, one hand balls into a fist that he softly knocks against Jonas's knee, resting there still curled tight a moment later. ]
But if I was gonna' show you Lucis, I'd wanna' show it to you the way it should be. Which means I have work to do first.
( His head shakes again, harder this time. A firm denial that Noctis owes him anything, and he's sure that's communicated even if he can't verbalize it. There's no repayment necessary when the feeling is mutual; he feels protective and protected, and he can remember the last time he knew that kind of comfort.
His mother would like Noctis. Cain. His team. His boys. He wishes they could've met her, especially now that they're the closest friends he's ever had.
Crying was inevitable, but the bump of Noctis' fist is the catalyst. Tears are hot in the corners of his eyes, and a hand sneaks up to his face to hurriedly wipe at them. ) Jesus. Yeah, you're my people, too. I'm... I've... I've been lonely for a long time, and I just...
( A shrug is all he can muster, refusing to release the cold body pressing to his. Maybe they should get blankets. Hot drinks.
Maybe they should share his coat. Say less. Touch more. )
How could you think you're selfish? God, I don't... I don't get it. You're...
[ It seems insane now that he thought their argument could've had a lasting impact. But at the same time, now as they share more of themselves and grow closer, the fear can only amplify. Because it's something that would be more damaging to lose, and that's a continuing inevitability in his life.
No. I can change it. I have to.
Jonas's tears only catalyze his resolve, hearing all the usual doubts that plague his thoughts but when they're mobilized against his friend, his strength to fight back against them grows exponentially. That fist gently unfurls after an unsure hesitation, fingers firm in their warm press against his knee. More secure. More open. ]
Hey... come on, [ is all he can offer at first, soft but intent on steering Jonas away from that loaded question he doesn't want to answer. The confession of recent life events fades away as he allows himself to lose courage, far more invested in this display of emotion history tells him to correct but time with Jonas tells him to encourage. ]
You're not lonely now, right? If you wanted to stay like this for a while... I would. At least until that feeling goes away.
Right. Yeah. ( A helpless little nod at Noctis' offer to stay, wanting that more than anything.
The only thing that'd make this better is having Cain's hand on his other knee, maybe offering a wisecrack at how sensitive they are while showing the tenderness in his eyes that he thinks he hides well. He needs another cigarette. )
Ugh, ( Jonas vocalizes after taking a moment to get ahold of himself. It's such a pathetic sound that it makes him chuckle immediately after. ) We're... We're supposed to be looking at the stars and stuff, and I'm crying again like an idiot. I swear, I don't plan to do this ever.
Are you cold?
( It's a question he thought to ask earlier but was distracted from it, and having felt Noctis shiver beneath his arm, he realizes he's been a poor host. )
I'd like to stay out here longer. Maybe... Maybe you could tell me about your perfect Lucis. Like, how it really looks. ( Wetly, earnestly sniffs back his emotionalism, sliding his hand to the middle of Noctis' back. ) Do you—You can have my coat. Or, like, I could go get you a blanket or something?
[ He's ready with a dismissive joke but it gets stuck in his throat, a burning need for sincerity gripping at him so tightly he feels it's mania. No... not gripping at him, but rather he's gripping at it. This mood will fade and he'll slip back behind his mask while Jonas reverts to his own coping mechanisms, and the cold night air will turn back to desert heat and this moment will be lost. He's fixated on how short his time is, and it causes his stomach to flip when Jonas prompts him with more ideas. ]
Ah... yeah, I am. [ His free hand even rubs at a reddening nose, sniffing once in retaliation against the chill. ]
But it's okay. That, and everything else. You're not an idiot, seriously.
And I don't want you to go anywhere, even if that's to get me a heater or a blanket or whatever. I can handle it. [ That hand slides down his back and he looks away suddenly, back out at an expanse of moonlight-tipped dunes stretching out in a rolling sea. ]
I can tell you about it. To be honest, it's part of what I wanted to talk to you about. But saying all of that is still new for me, so I don't know how good I'll be at it.
( Eyes tired, heart not, he nods again. It's more resolute this time, though it's silent, and he wants Noctis to hear confirmation that he'll stay rooted to this spot. )
Okay... I won't.
( It doesn't stop him from sharing his own warmth, however. Removing his arm only briefly, he works himself out of the heavy coat, leaving him in a hoodie. With a flap and a drag up over their knees, it is used as the blanket he failed to retrieve for Noctis before his arrival. The interior is almost hot with his accumulated body heat, and though his back's getting cold, it should be a happy medium for them both.
Noctis is still looking away when Jonas seeks eye contact. In finding none, he gazes at a straight nose and the curve of soft lips. Pale in the moonlight, almost light grey where the rest of him is silver. )
Whatever comes out, I'm listening, Noct.
now it's my turn to get this all over with at once, TL;DR
[ He exhales softly when Jonas confirms he won't leave his side, relief removing some tension from constantly squared shoulders. It returns redoubled, however, not just when his friend drapes that warm coat over their bodies but when he first removes his arm. The separation is mitigated with a soft squeeze of his own now hidden hand, wanting to again glance back when he feels that gaze on him but a more conscious decision has him refusing. ]
... my perfect Lucis is one where it's free and at peace. I wanna' say I've seen that, but we've been at war since before I was born. Part of what made our lives go on like we weren't was what my dad did. The shield around Insomnia, the one I told you about. It was his magic that kept that in place... and eventually, it was gonna' be mine.
Until– until this treaty Niflheim offered us... [ His hand abandons Jonas's knee, suddenly, as a powerful swell of anger passes like a ghost over clenched features, fingers drawn back into a tight fist he doesn't want to allow to harm him. ]
I'd go marry Luna, a friend I knew from back when I was a kid. Her country was already occupied by Niflheim, so it'd make things official. And my old man... He'd meet with their emperor after I left the city, iron out all the terms. Like they needed to come to Insomnia to do that. Even just saying it out loud, it sounds insane. How didn't I see– fuck, who would be dumb enough not to know that was a trap? [ There's a sudden huff of a laugh but it sounds tight, chased by a rapid inhale as Noctis turns his head even further away. ]
He knew. My dad knew, and he sent me off so I wouldn't get caught up in it. He let them in... and he got himself killed for it. Got the city taken. Because sending his son off was a better gamble than waiting it out, I guess.
My "perfect Lucis"? My perfect Lucis is one where I drive out every last one of those bastards and fix this. I have to. I can't... I can't be some kid waiting for someone to protect me, Jonas. I n-need to make it what it deserves to be.
( The spectrum of Noctis' worries is so great that to name each facet feels impossible. When Jonas tries, he only gets so far: War, high expectations, political strife, parental loss, an arranged marriage, assassination, occupation, and pressure to be more than what he feels he currently is. He knows Noctis isn't alone, that he has his friends—and soon, his wife, the Queen—to support him, but the weight on strong shoulders must be so immense it's no wonder they're locked in rigidity.
Tears prick at Jonas' eyes again, but he doesn't cry; he's not the one who needs to now. Without expectation that Noctis will, however, his hand finds that clenched fist that was once a bracing heat on his knee. He draws it close beneath the coat that protects them from the night air, thumb slipping over knuckles. )
Noctis, look at me. Hey, ( a soft voice coaxes, not wanting to startle Noctis by turning his face himself. This takes time, and he's got all night to wait. That's what his mother would do.
She'd rub his back, starting low and then moving high. Stroke his cheek, his brow. Bundle him up against her, kiss his hair. Let him smell her faint perfume, but because she always smelled like that, not because she applied any that day. Then she'd softly begin to sing. She was peaceful, like Noctis' future Lucis, and that's what he wants to be in this moment. While Noctis becomes coldly furious, divulging his worries and trying to bite back the stress he needs to release, Jonas wants to be his peace.
The hand not holding Noctis' fist telegraphs its intent to move with a shift in posture, coming to rest on a back exposed to the chill. And with a subtle start, he applies bracing pressure, rubbing wherever he thinks is weariest from carrying his burdens. )
Look at me, it'll be okay. No one can do it alone, and you won't. You won't be alone.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'm here already, so swing by anytime
( Sure enough, in an hour's time, that's where he'll be.
Not expecting Noctis the exact minute he shows up, Jonas is smoking—a real cigarette—just outside of his craft in one of the thick coats provided to him by the Theorem. It has his division's patch on the shoulders, "R&A" in bold, bright letters. On the back, "Research and Archives" is visible, branding him a scientist when he's really anything but.
He doesn't act caught red-handed with the filter between his lips, ignoring that it causes him the most pathetic headache he's personally experienced, but he does look around as if to search for a place to stub it out. )
Hey.
Sorry, let me finish this real quick, and we can head up top in a sec. Your leg okay?
no subject
No big deal, take your time with it. [ Shoulders lift in response to a gust of cool air, gaze already turned upward at the impressive starscape above. ]
Leg's fine. More importantly I didn't know if you ate so I brought something over. It's some kind of fried rice, nothing good but at least edible tonight.
no subject
Briefly, he considers offering Noctis one.
Oh, uh, no thanks. I mean, I literally just said the clean air thing, so.
Instead, the still-burning butt of the cigarette is flicked with odd immediacy into the sand. Externally, it doesn't seem like he's doing anything more than rushing.
With a strong shrug of his shoulder, Jonas gestures upward. )
I can boost you if you want. The wing's the easiest place to get up.
no subject
Aren't those rare out here? ]
Sure. [ If he had access to his magic he wouldn't need the help. Hardly something he needs to be focused on now as he steps closer, a hand on Jonas's shoulder to steady himself when he moves into position to lift him. ]
I can give you a hand once I'm up there. Deal?
no subject
The wing of his ship is a wooden fence held together with rusted nails and wire.
Forming a foothold by lacing his fingers together, Jonas waits until Noctis' boot is slotted and pulls upward before easily pushing him the rest of the way. His friend is light, not unlike Alex was, but with far more muscle control. It's like releasing a kettlebell whose momentum seems to maintain until it stops, finding it unnecessary to check that he made it up alright.
Instead, Jonas immediately begins his climb with a shove of a foot into a leading edge slat. )
Okay— ( Expectantly, knowing Noctis will be there, he casts a hand up for assistance. )
no subject
A gloved hand grips low on his arm as he pulls with his own surprising strength, head only turning away when his friend is forced to crawl into his space and he's inspired to rapidly pull himself back out of the way. ]
You good?
[ It's colder up here, a reality he didn't prepare well enough for in his own thin jacket, but no complaints escape pressed lips... yet. ]
Here– [ Palms press against the ship's surface as he scoots himself further back, legs still close to the wing but with the rest of his body situated well out of Jonas's way to offer him more space. ] Food's here too if you want it now. They only had chopsticks clean when I was heading out, so hope that works for you.
no subject
Oh, yeah, I've been up here a couple of times so far. It's way easier when you pull me, though; I look like I'm trying to ride a bike mid-air when it's just me. ( Self-deprecating humour is used to reduce tension in their stilted conversation, and Noctis helps further by offering the food again.
He can't tell him he isn't hungry, but... )
I, uh, ( he begins, joining Noctis where the wing meets the fuselage. He deposits himself there, arm against arm, peering down at the container of food with a sheepish smile. ) I can't actually use them? I've tried before, but I... I could never figure it out.
It's okay, though, really. I'll eat after you and, like... shake it into my mouth or something.
no subject
No way. Me showing you how to use them will be less annoying than watching you do that. [ Those palms remain pressed to the ship's hull as he leans back, unable to muster any protest to the arm against his when it's an obvious need for both of them in this chill. But– ]
Anyway I already ate. All that's yours, so you don't have to rush with it like you did with the cigarette if you're not ready.
no subject
Wouldn't that be a bit embarrassing? He has very little pride left, but scissoring chopsticks together and dropping rice everywhere sounds wasteful. If Noctis wants to teach him, though...
Well, he's in a repentant mood. He's ready to do just about anything his friend tells him to. )
I didn't rush, by the way. I, like... burnt my finger.
( Removing the chopsticks from the lid, Jonas gestures upward at the stars with them. )
Look, a distraction— ( Feigns tipping the container of rice against his mouth and shaking, lid still on. )
no subject
He's sweet, self-deprecating in a goofy way that makes Noctis want to laugh, and that in itself is a striking rarity. Lately it's only been even more so. ]
Nice try. Is that why I came here? To look at the stars so you have privacy to eat?
[ He does look up, however, that smile fading as he stares upward at a blanket of stars he doesn't recognize. Eos could be any one of them, he's sure of that, a distant brilliant light reaching back out for him. ]
... it feels like we've been here a lot longer than we have. You get that too?
no subject
With a concept of time as strange as his, Jonas wonders if he should disagree with the statement. He thinks he can split the difference, however, by offering something more than a yes or no: )
I know what you mean.
( It's hard to know what else to say, so he lapses into a short silence. Their initial conversation feels done and dusted, and another, more serious one begins. Though he knows he never will be, he tries to get ready. )
It's only been a couple of months, right? You must be missing home—your friends.
no subject
Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say to you. [ Already he's struggling to articulate his thoughts, and putting his foot in his mouth when he knows pieces of Jonas's story is insensitive. A hand drags through his hair as he suddenly sits up, choosing to instead hunch forward over bent knees. ]
I guess what I mean is it feels like we've known each other for a long time.
So yeah, sure. I want to go home. I need to go home. But I fell into a rhythm too fast here.
no subject
( He wants to lean forward with Noctis. Put an arm around his shoulders. Comfort him. It helps not to look inward. To take care of someone instead of facing the stars and trying not to feel an overwhelming sense of confusion.
Anchored to this moment, he only really feels grateful. )
Do you mean you got used to things too quickly, or... Do things feel, like, routine now?
no subject
The first one. Parts of it, anyway.
Back home, things are more complicated than I told you they were. And besides that... even though I have my friends, they're feeling the weight of it all too. They look at me and they see someone they care about, but it's not like we can pretend they don't see something else too. They see their prince, and they see the duties they have to fulfill.
[ Fingers curl against his arm, ignoring the goosebumps on exposed skin from the increasingly cool air as he tries to force himself through thoughts he's been trying to arrange in order for days. ]
You... and Cain too, you don't see that. You just see me. And it's not like I want to get used to that. But maybe I was, a little. So the other day when I thought something was changing with us already, and maybe I was the odd man out, I just... tensed up.
It's stupid. I get that. I shouldn't even be thinking about any of this at all.
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Maybe he would've asked him how he was feeling, or if he'd like to hang out with them more often. If he'd like to stay in the same tent, like on the night they hugged. )
Noctis... Hey, c'mere...
( Noctis helped him through his panic by casting an arm around him. Jonas repays him by doing the same, not unperceptive enough to miss how he holds himself against the cold. In a deep lean forward, he joins his friend in that hunched position, knees coming up to better huddle in with him. )
It's not stupid. It's not stupid, and you didn't do anything wrong. We had a misunderstanding, and—Look, we're talking about it now, right?
( His grip on Noctis' far shoulder tightens, a squeeze to emphasize a point. )
It's okay to tense up. To want to be, like... wanted. To be protective of that feeling—especially if it's kind of new to you.
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He feels tired. He feels like he wants to cry. And he feels so fucking weak, childish, and guilty for all of it. ]
My friends want me around, [ he manages suddenly through a tight throat, as if the idea of leaving them undefended is too abhorrent to set aside right now. ]
It's just different. [ Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto would never choose to leave his side, he knows that. But at the same time, they'd never really had the opportunity to consider that. Jonas has, and Cain has. Now here they are, and he's being embraced just for explaining his side in an argument that never should've happened. Did he earn this? ]
I don't know where they are right now. Just that I should be there with them, fighting with them. And instead I'm just thinking about myself, again.
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( Something solidifies in him, then. As he trails off, he realizes that Noctis offered to bring him back to Eos with him, and he hasn't made the same promise back. Yes, maybe Noctis mistakenly thought they were from the same land, that Jonas was one of his people, but do the semantics really matter?
Shaking his head, his fingers squeeze again, kneading into his friend's upper arm. )
You'll get back there. I'll help in any way that I can, I promise. I'm coming too, remember? ( The joke sounds choked up, emotion quickly swallowed so that he can provide advice he wishes someone told him years ago: ) Until then, you have to think about yourself. That's how you take care of yourself: make sure you're good, and when you see them again, they'll know you totally thrived—wherever the fuck you were. That you're strong and brave, and you did that.
I... I would want to know that. That you actually lived—relied on people—instead of stretching yourself too thin.
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Yeah. [ His voice sounds rough and affected when he ekes the word out, turning away in another increasingly futile bid to regain his composure. ]
Relying on you feels like all I've done... maybe you don't see it, but I do. So... thanks. I owe you a lot already.
More, maybe, if I say I don't wanna' let you get stuck anywhere else. If that means making sure you have a place in Eos, then that was never a joke to me. It's my job to protect my people, and... I already see you like that. [ A full body shiver racks him after the difficult words, tense and braced for more. Things he knows he needs to say, but first he wants to return even an ounce of that affection. Underpracticed and awkward, one hand balls into a fist that he softly knocks against Jonas's knee, resting there still curled tight a moment later. ]
But if I was gonna' show you Lucis, I'd wanna' show it to you the way it should be. Which means I have work to do first.
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His mother would like Noctis. Cain. His team. His boys. He wishes they could've met her, especially now that they're the closest friends he's ever had.
Crying was inevitable, but the bump of Noctis' fist is the catalyst. Tears are hot in the corners of his eyes, and a hand sneaks up to his face to hurriedly wipe at them. ) Jesus. Yeah, you're my people, too. I'm... I've... I've been lonely for a long time, and I just...
( A shrug is all he can muster, refusing to release the cold body pressing to his. Maybe they should get blankets. Hot drinks.
Maybe they should share his coat. Say less. Touch more. )
How could you think you're selfish? God, I don't... I don't get it. You're...
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No. I can change it. I have to.
Jonas's tears only catalyze his resolve, hearing all the usual doubts that plague his thoughts but when they're mobilized against his friend, his strength to fight back against them grows exponentially. That fist gently unfurls after an unsure hesitation, fingers firm in their warm press against his knee. More secure. More open. ]
Hey... come on, [ is all he can offer at first, soft but intent on steering Jonas away from that loaded question he doesn't want to answer. The confession of recent life events fades away as he allows himself to lose courage, far more invested in this display of emotion history tells him to correct but time with Jonas tells him to encourage. ]
You're not lonely now, right? If you wanted to stay like this for a while... I would. At least until that feeling goes away.
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The only thing that'd make this better is having Cain's hand on his other knee, maybe offering a wisecrack at how sensitive they are while showing the tenderness in his eyes that he thinks he hides well. He needs another cigarette. )
Ugh, ( Jonas vocalizes after taking a moment to get ahold of himself. It's such a pathetic sound that it makes him chuckle immediately after. ) We're... We're supposed to be looking at the stars and stuff, and I'm crying again like an idiot. I swear, I don't plan to do this ever.
Are you cold?
( It's a question he thought to ask earlier but was distracted from it, and having felt Noctis shiver beneath his arm, he realizes he's been a poor host. )
I'd like to stay out here longer. Maybe... Maybe you could tell me about your perfect Lucis. Like, how it really looks. ( Wetly, earnestly sniffs back his emotionalism, sliding his hand to the middle of Noctis' back. ) Do you—You can have my coat. Or, like, I could go get you a blanket or something?
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Ah... yeah, I am. [ His free hand even rubs at a reddening nose, sniffing once in retaliation against the chill. ]
But it's okay. That, and everything else. You're not an idiot, seriously.
And I don't want you to go anywhere, even if that's to get me a heater or a blanket or whatever. I can handle it. [ That hand slides down his back and he looks away suddenly, back out at an expanse of moonlight-tipped dunes stretching out in a rolling sea. ]
I can tell you about it. To be honest, it's part of what I wanted to talk to you about. But saying all of that is still new for me, so I don't know how good I'll be at it.
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Okay... I won't.
( It doesn't stop him from sharing his own warmth, however. Removing his arm only briefly, he works himself out of the heavy coat, leaving him in a hoodie. With a flap and a drag up over their knees, it is used as the blanket he failed to retrieve for Noctis before his arrival. The interior is almost hot with his accumulated body heat, and though his back's getting cold, it should be a happy medium for them both.
Noctis is still looking away when Jonas seeks eye contact. In finding none, he gazes at a straight nose and the curve of soft lips. Pale in the moonlight, almost light grey where the rest of him is silver. )
Whatever comes out, I'm listening, Noct.
now it's my turn to get this all over with at once, TL;DR
... my perfect Lucis is one where it's free and at peace. I wanna' say I've seen that, but we've been at war since before I was born. Part of what made our lives go on like we weren't was what my dad did. The shield around Insomnia, the one I told you about. It was his magic that kept that in place... and eventually, it was gonna' be mine.
Until– until this treaty Niflheim offered us... [ His hand abandons Jonas's knee, suddenly, as a powerful swell of anger passes like a ghost over clenched features, fingers drawn back into a tight fist he doesn't want to allow to harm him. ]
I'd go marry Luna, a friend I knew from back when I was a kid. Her country was already occupied by Niflheim, so it'd make things official. And my old man... He'd meet with their emperor after I left the city, iron out all the terms. Like they needed to come to Insomnia to do that. Even just saying it out loud, it sounds insane. How didn't I see– fuck, who would be dumb enough not to know that was a trap? [ There's a sudden huff of a laugh but it sounds tight, chased by a rapid inhale as Noctis turns his head even further away. ]
He knew. My dad knew, and he sent me off so I wouldn't get caught up in it. He let them in... and he got himself killed for it. Got the city taken. Because sending his son off was a better gamble than waiting it out, I guess.
My "perfect Lucis"? My perfect Lucis is one where I drive out every last one of those bastards and fix this. I have to. I can't... I can't be some kid waiting for someone to protect me, Jonas. I n-need to make it what it deserves to be.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAH IT'S BEAUTIFUL
Tears prick at Jonas' eyes again, but he doesn't cry; he's not the one who needs to now. Without expectation that Noctis will, however, his hand finds that clenched fist that was once a bracing heat on his knee. He draws it close beneath the coat that protects them from the night air, thumb slipping over knuckles. )
Noctis, look at me. Hey, ( a soft voice coaxes, not wanting to startle Noctis by turning his face himself. This takes time, and he's got all night to wait. That's what his mother would do.
She'd rub his back, starting low and then moving high. Stroke his cheek, his brow. Bundle him up against her, kiss his hair. Let him smell her faint perfume, but because she always smelled like that, not because she applied any that day. Then she'd softly begin to sing. She was peaceful, like Noctis' future Lucis, and that's what he wants to be in this moment. While Noctis becomes coldly furious, divulging his worries and trying to bite back the stress he needs to release, Jonas wants to be his peace.
The hand not holding Noctis' fist telegraphs its intent to move with a shift in posture, coming to rest on a back exposed to the chill. And with a subtle start, he applies bracing pressure, rubbing wherever he thinks is weariest from carrying his burdens. )
Look at me, it'll be okay. No one can do it alone, and you won't. You won't be alone.
soaks this all in
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