[... At first there's no reaction, just that moment of sustained eye contact, heater casting a blue glow across the planes of Cain's neutral face. And then tension breaks — and he falls into a fit of laughter, full and uncontrolled, arms around his middle as he half-folds forward in that seated position.]
Oh my god, are you— haha— are you serious?
[The absurdity is what gets him. Hearing those words out of Noctis's mouth, combined with the fact that he purposefully learned them for Cain's benefit... It's too much.]
Holy shit. Remind me to thank Reze, I guess. That's— so fucking funny.
[ For a moment or two he wonders if he's fumbled the words he's spent an embarrassingly long amount of time practicing, considering their lack of practical use in any situation but this one. It makes him second-guess the expenditure of effort in the first place, particularly when mouthing each consonant had to be undertaken very much in private lest anyone overhear.
Then Cain laughs. And that doubt in himself vanishes.
Relief is what he feels first, but the longer the other young man laughs the harder it is for him to suppress his own smile, a shy and unwilling thing that's nurtured by his new friend's enjoyment until it becomes full-blown. Self-consciousness still has him hunching, trying to hide the expression behind the line of his arm as he peers over at him. ]
Shut up... You're gonna' hurt your ribs even worse, you know.
[ A smothered laugh vibrates through his own words, barely suppressed. ]
Yeah, of course I know what it means. Like a generational curse... something about kids shitting in your soup, right?
He's forced to cool his laughter if he wants to speak again, taking a drag from the lit cigarette in his fingers. A snickering exhale blows smoke back out, unable to help the leftover smile as Noctis actually says those words out loud. Wow, straight from the mouth of a prince. This has to be breaking some Eos(ian?) law or royal principle.]
A generational curse? You're kidding. Sure, yeah, you know what. I like that.
[Cain isn't really one to think so far ahead, but the literal translation checks out. And he's just so damn amused Noctis chose to perfect that whole phrase when there were probably a lot simpler ones to choose.]
Your accent's pretty good. You could pick it up eventually with more practice.
[While in this good mood, the compliment feels so easy. Honest.]
Don't tell me that isn't actually right and she lied to me. If it's something else... [ Here he trails off, no threats coming to mind when he too is sharing in that good feeling.
It feels like blood-letting. They wore each other's in sand, they've spilled their grievances, and now they get to enjoy the sense of delirium that follows in the wake of all that violence. ]
You're just saying that because you want me to try more phrases. How about you teach me something actually worth knowing instead?
[ The compliment feels good, and Cain looks relaxed and natural giving it. It makes him greedy to earn another one, somehow. ]
No, no. It's right. It's just — [a soft breath of leftover laughter,] ... kinda hard to explain.
[Not in a bad way. Not in the way it was between them prior to this conversation, difficult and uncomfortable, like he was chewing up words and spitting them out all wrong.]
It's less about what the words mean than it is... how you're using them. Who you're with. The whole thing, you know? So I could say that, and out of nowhere it'd make no sense. But if I was mad at you... or I was trying to joke around with you, it'd have two totally different meanings. So it's not really about anyone's children.
[Cain shifts in his seat, more animated as he explains this, clearly engaged and enjoying the communal nature of this knowledge. That it's something from his people — and Noctis is trying to share in that with him.]
Okay, but who decides what's "worth knowing"? 'Cause you're probably thinking something way more lame than I am.
[ He doesn't know Cain as a chatterer, and even now he doesn't ramble in the same sweet familiar way that Jonas does. Instead he sits up straighter and actively involves himself, and Noctis finds himself watching his hands for twitches or gestures when he isn't studying that relaxed expression.
No, it's not Jonas's way. But it's not less sweet, he decides. ]
Makes sense. Insomnian's a lot like that too, you know. One word could mean a hundred different things depending on how I say it to you and what's going on. You just have to know somebody, I guess, otherwise you could piss 'em off pretty easily if they read you wrong.
[ He reaches out, suddenly, though this time the fist that knocks against Cain's shoulder is gentle. Affectionate, even. ]
You decide what's worth knowing, dumbass. Pick something good.
[Noctis has done that a few times now — nudged him, playfully punched him, small moments of physical contact as a way to communicate where words don't. He finds that he likes it. It feels comradely, as though they could be nothing more than two soldiers, or even two friends, enjoying each other's company.]
Okay, but like... help me narrow it down a little. You want a cute phrase, a sexy phrase, or just something useful?
[We all know Noctis isn't going to pick the sexy option.]
[ That wit is quick and the reply is immediate, tone right back to its usual apathetic tiredness. Cain. He should hit him for real... but he doesn't, and this time he doesn't even threaten to. That's progress. ]
Why are you so sex-obsessed? You're gonna' tell me I'm a prude or overthinking it again and it's normal. But you're the one bringing it up when you know I'm not gonna' get to use it.
[ It isn't what he should've said. "I'm not going to use it" would've been better, clearer, and a little less... something he doesn't want to define. ]
If you want a real answer... something you'd want me to know, I guess.
Hey, I gave you three different options. You're singling out the sexy one and that's not on me.
[He'd go on to argue that Noctis could use it someday if he really wanted to, but that's territory better left behind. Ashing his cigarette, Cain straightens up from the slouch he'd started to slip into.]
But if you want something angry — durak. You can use that to call me an idiot. Or if you wanna make it kinda playful, like you don't really mean it, you could say durochka instead.
[Flirting...]
I can think of a couple other words you might be into. Volshebnyy... It's basically the word for magic. Or nezemnoy — uh, I guess the best translation for that is something like... beyond this world. I'd probably use both of those to describe you.
Why would I ever call you an idiot and not really mean it? [ His chin finds his palm as he looks over at him, a bit too taken with the mood between them. ]
... durochka. [ Is it less flirtatious or more flirtatious if it comes this naturally without intention?
A question for another day. Because right now he's a little too focused on Cain's descriptions of him as "magic" and "otherwordly", trying desperately not to let it show on his face. That's... after what they talked about earlier, after what they've said, after established attraction, isn't that romantic? Is there a way it isn't? ]
Volshebnyy... and nez... nezemnoy? [ He glances to him for confirmation before humming quietly, ignoring the lump in his throat. ]
I guess for you I'd say something like 著しい. Or 侘び寂び.
著しい is easier to translate. It means something significant or conspicuous. Not good or bad, just leaves a big impression. Striking.
[There's a break in the natural flow of conversation when Noctis rebuffs him, then immediately tries the Russian anyway, managing even with a hesitant accent — where Cain just looks at him. The blue light from the heater suits the features of Noctis's face, illuminating the sloped curve of a cheek down to pale lips. It brings out the color of dark hair, feathery and in the way of equally blue eyes. Does he ever trim it himself? He must have to, here, if he hasn't yet.
Cain realizes his attention has drifted when the sound of Insomnian draws him back in.]
"Striking", huh. Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment.
[There are worse ways to say he sorely sticks out, and he's heard them all before. It wasn't his intention, but he's enjoying this — hearing what Noctis thinks of him in another language. His native language from some other world.
Mimicking how Noctis has initiated physical contact, he uncrosses a leg and nudges his foot against Noctis's calf.]
[ This time it's Cain invading his personal space and he finds, just as he did before during their arguments or rare moments of truth, that the reciprocity is important to him. It soothes his natural anxiety-driven doubts that his partner in conversation is disappointed to be speaking with him or unimpressed by what he has to say, and it just makes it feel... comfortable. Comfortable enough for him to keep looking at him even as Cain stares back, eye contact more prolonged than before. ]
Fine. I guess I can't stop you from taking it however you want. That means "magic" and "beyond this world" are compliments too. [ It sounds like a joke and that he's deciding for himself right now. In reality he already thought they were. ]
侘び寂び is... ah, the whole word doesn't translate to anything. It's an idea. Some people make a way bigger deal out of it than others, but... 侘び is when something's nice in a subtle way. 寂び is the rust or age on something.
When you put them together it's when something is good because it's not perfect. Like if it's old or broken or messed up somehow. It'd be worse if it weren't, because then you wouldn't appreciate it or it wouldn't be different. And sometimes it's just still in progress.
[ He takes a short breath, unaccustomed to talking so much or so seriously. Expectedly, he breaks the tension. ]
Like how you're an asshole, but you're becoming less of one.
[He listens as Noctis explains, naturally drawn to the rhythm of that soft voice, its patterns and tones becoming more familiar to him now with prolonged exposure. It doesn't surprise him to discover the nuances within language, but — he thinks he sees a glimpse of what Noctis is trying to say, without outright saying it.
Something good because it's not perfect.
And then of course Noctis takes the edge off, that jest meant to allay the new tension between them. Cain's almost disappointed. He's been staring at Noctis's mouth, remembering how it felt to kiss him and wondering if there is some way to make it happen again, but... obviously that's a stupid thought fueled by runaway attraction. What happened before was all adrenaline, and there's still a big, glaring, unspoken question between them.
One in the shape of a boy.
Cain huffs, leaning back suddenly and holding his cigarette aloft.]
Hey, you ever smoke before? [Pinched fingers hold it out.] Wanna try?
[ Immediately Noctis's gaze drops, curiosity visible in the way that stare lingers on the cigarette. He hardly needs to verbalize his answer to the first question. ]
You're really asking? Who do you think would offer me something like that?
[ Certainly no classmates, unless they wanted a reckoning with teachers or parents. No friends, not when that category has a population of one and he doesn't believe Prompto's ever smoked in his life. No strangers, not when he might not know them but everyone in Insomnia had known him.
Cain's like a breath of fresh air. Irreverent, exciting, rough in a way he understands, and rough in a way he doesn't. There was a certain chemistry they had when they were challenging each other and arguing, and in fighting for resolution he expected some of that to fade. It hasn't, it's just now layered with an undercurrent of understanding.
So a gloved hand reaches out, fingers brushing Cain's when he nicks the cigarette off of him. ]
... you do that a lot, you know. I say all kinds of stuff, then you change the subject...
Why? 'Cause you don't know what to say? [ It's lifted to his mouth after a moment, brow furrowed as he places it between his lips with a short inhale. There's a clear effort to make the action appear casual, a common theme underlying his inexperience with life, and the cloud of smoke that leaves his mouth looks too thick to have even made it to his lungs. ]
[He looks satisfied when Noctis accepts the offering, though there's a moment where dark eyes fall to the brush of fingers — unavoidable in the exchange but another moment of physical connection among several others tonight.
A snicker as Noctis aims for casual ease with the cigarette. It's not like he doesn't know it'll be new to him, so there's no point pretending, but it's a little cute that he tries anyway.]
... 'Cause I'm thinking. [He taps his own temple with two fingers.] About why you'd call me that and what it's supposed to mean. It's just... dunno, how I am. I want to be careful what I say, not just with you but with everyone.
[It isn't easy for him to speak his mind; Noctis should get that by now.]
But mostly you. [A slight smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, though it doesn't stay.] You're the one challenging me the most whenever we talk. And you played it down just now, didn't you, calling me less of an asshole. But thanks.
... C'mon, at least try to actually smoke it. Take a real breath.
So... I've been getting the censored, carefully thought-out version of you this whole time?
[ It's too easy a jab not to make and is even partly sincere, forced to wonder what it would be like if Cain weren't constantly filtering himself around him. What if he were to be the same in return? The thought is immediately intimidating, and he loses the will to push him on it. ]
I was smoking it, by the way, or did you not notice? You show me again, then, if you're such an expert. [ The cigarette is held back out without any real sense of agitation or competition for once. He can still taste the smoke, less sharp and suffocating than the razing of ground by his elemancy, and decides at once that it isn't unpleasant. ]
It's pretty weird, actually. That after this whole conversation you're sitting there trying to guess what I mean, again. I feel like we made it obvious that we're both bad at it and always wrong, but you'd still rather do that than ask me.
[There's a soft snort, though soon he falls to silence as he listens. Censored isn't the word he would use, personally, but to some degree he gets what Noctis is trying to say. And that's a step in the right direction.]
You seriously think I don't know how to smoke? Just admit you don't know what you're doing. It's not like I'm gonna blame you — just gotta have the experience, which you're getting right now.
[Cain plucks the cigarette back with another gentle slide of fingers, then takes a deep drag off the end, blowing out smoke in a funneled stream.]
When you do it right, you get this nice, heady feeling... like all the rough edges get filed off whatever's nagging you. You need to inhale like you mean it, though. Breathe into your chest. [Hand extended once again, he offers the cigarette back.] It sounds like you want me to ask, so I will.
侘び...寂び. [His own accent is strong.] What does that really mean? Without just saying I'm less of an asshole.
I don't know what I'm doing. [ The admission is made readily though not without a quiet knowing look at Cain, and even the hint of a sly smile. Tonight, at least, he's not putting up a front. Tomorrow might be different... but right now it still feels okay. Refreshing. Relieving, maybe. So he watches him, eyes dropping to his chest to watch it swell with the deep breath, before he accepts that shared cigarette back. ]
... feels like I have a lot of rough edges right now. Might take more. [ It doesn't sound self-pitying, rather one more bit of honesty between them. It feels like Cain can relate, anyway, and commiseration doesn't need to be wordy to be felt. So he places the dart between his lips and again sucks in smoke, taking as deep a breath he can and holding it for a few seconds longer before he exhales. ] I definitely wanted you to ask, by the way. Not 'cause I wanna' figure out how to word it. Just because I've gotta' train you to have normal conversations apparently.
–thanks. [ He reaches out his hand to pass the smoke back off before pausing, suddenly taking another quick drag before it's actually relinquished. He needs it. ]
... you know the phrase "diamond in the rough"? When something has a lot of good in it but people don't see it. I guess... I see it in you. You don't make it easy, and that's obviously on purpose. You... I dunno. You get crass or act like a dick to chase people off, like you did with me. But then you act like this too, and it's a different person. This guy's pretty cool.
And when you're like this I know you mean it, 'cause of the other stuff. "Beauty in imperfection", it means something like that.
[There's just a soft snort, at first, listening to Noctis confide a sentiment he knows too well.
But then comes the rest. And Cain finds that his attention is deeply fixed on the other man, caught on every word with focus — a little terrified to hear what he has to say. Maybe that's part of what he's avoided. Knowing Noctis' real opinion of him, in light of all he's said and done by now, is unvisited territory. It will reveal too much truth. In their reflection of one another, Cain has always thought of himself as lesser, worse than Noctis' high-minded ideals and bravery; he doesn't know what to do when he's spoken of like this instead.
It sounds — affectionate. Is he just crazy?]
... Didn't think I'd ever hear you talk about me like that.
[And what is he supposed to do with it? The atmosphere changes with his own tension and uncertainty, exposed by vulnerability, and though he would like to think of himself as beyond such a childish reaction, his face feels hot.]
Thanks, I guess. [Eye contact has become impossible.] Keep the cig. Got plenty more where that came from.
["Anyway, good talk." Noctis has effectively put him on the back foot. But not enough that he can't say —]
[ His hand retracts, pulling back that proffered smoke to eye it himself. Even holding it feels like some kind of crime, but not more so than engaging in their current conversation. They were meant to settle things and get along, and they've achieved that, but Cain's reticence makes him feel... almost unsure. Like he's said something right enough to be wrong, and he wonders, not for the first time, if this also counts as pushing him too far too fast.
The compliment sits well on top of everything else, easing some of his doubt and ensuring that shared warmth stays painted on his face too. ]
Here I thought I got pretty close earlier. [ He takes a deep breath, ashing that cigarette with a gentle tap as he looks over. ]
... thanks. I'll, ah... talk to you later for the questions, okay? [ After a moment's consideration he stands first, plucking up that heater and leaving Cain to spend more time in the cool air clearing his head.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Oh my god, are you— haha— are you serious?
[The absurdity is what gets him. Hearing those words out of Noctis's mouth, combined with the fact that he purposefully learned them for Cain's benefit... It's too much.]
Holy shit. Remind me to thank Reze, I guess. That's— so fucking funny.
Do you even know what you're saying?
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Then Cain laughs. And that doubt in himself vanishes.
Relief is what he feels first, but the longer the other young man laughs the harder it is for him to suppress his own smile, a shy and unwilling thing that's nurtured by his new friend's enjoyment until it becomes full-blown. Self-consciousness still has him hunching, trying to hide the expression behind the line of his arm as he peers over at him. ]
Shut up... You're gonna' hurt your ribs even worse, you know.
[ A smothered laugh vibrates through his own words, barely suppressed. ]
Yeah, of course I know what it means. Like a generational curse... something about kids shitting in your soup, right?
no subject
He's forced to cool his laughter if he wants to speak again, taking a drag from the lit cigarette in his fingers. A snickering exhale blows smoke back out, unable to help the leftover smile as Noctis actually says those words out loud. Wow, straight from the mouth of a prince. This has to be breaking some Eos(ian?) law or royal principle.]
A generational curse? You're kidding. Sure, yeah, you know what. I like that.
[Cain isn't really one to think so far ahead, but the literal translation checks out. And he's just so damn amused Noctis chose to perfect that whole phrase when there were probably a lot simpler ones to choose.]
Your accent's pretty good. You could pick it up eventually with more practice.
[While in this good mood, the compliment feels so easy. Honest.]
no subject
It feels like blood-letting. They wore each other's in sand, they've spilled their grievances, and now they get to enjoy the sense of delirium that follows in the wake of all that violence. ]
You're just saying that because you want me to try more phrases. How about you teach me something actually worth knowing instead?
[ The compliment feels good, and Cain looks relaxed and natural giving it. It makes him greedy to earn another one, somehow. ]
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[Not in a bad way. Not in the way it was between them prior to this conversation, difficult and uncomfortable, like he was chewing up words and spitting them out all wrong.]
It's less about what the words mean than it is... how you're using them. Who you're with. The whole thing, you know? So I could say that, and out of nowhere it'd make no sense. But if I was mad at you... or I was trying to joke around with you, it'd have two totally different meanings. So it's not really about anyone's children.
[Cain shifts in his seat, more animated as he explains this, clearly engaged and enjoying the communal nature of this knowledge. That it's something from his people — and Noctis is trying to share in that with him.]
Okay, but who decides what's "worth knowing"? 'Cause you're probably thinking something way more lame than I am.
no subject
No, it's not Jonas's way. But it's not less sweet, he decides. ]
Makes sense. Insomnian's a lot like that too, you know. One word could mean a hundred different things depending on how I say it to you and what's going on. You just have to know somebody, I guess, otherwise you could piss 'em off pretty easily if they read you wrong.
[ He reaches out, suddenly, though this time the fist that knocks against Cain's shoulder is gentle. Affectionate, even. ]
You decide what's worth knowing, dumbass. Pick something good.
no subject
Okay, but like... help me narrow it down a little. You want a cute phrase, a sexy phrase, or just something useful?
[We all know Noctis isn't going to pick the sexy option.]
One of each?
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[ That wit is quick and the reply is immediate, tone right back to its usual apathetic tiredness. Cain. He should hit him for real... but he doesn't, and this time he doesn't even threaten to. That's progress. ]
Why are you so sex-obsessed? You're gonna' tell me I'm a prude or overthinking it again and it's normal. But you're the one bringing it up when you know I'm not gonna' get to use it.
[ It isn't what he should've said. "I'm not going to use it" would've been better, clearer, and a little less... something he doesn't want to define. ]
If you want a real answer... something you'd want me to know, I guess.
no subject
[He'd go on to argue that Noctis could use it someday if he really wanted to, but that's territory better left behind. Ashing his cigarette, Cain straightens up from the slouch he'd started to slip into.]
But if you want something angry — durak. You can use that to call me an idiot. Or if you wanna make it kinda playful, like you don't really mean it, you could say durochka instead.
[Flirting...]
I can think of a couple other words you might be into. Volshebnyy... It's basically the word for magic. Or nezemnoy — uh, I guess the best translation for that is something like... beyond this world. I'd probably use both of those to describe you.
no subject
... durochka. [ Is it less flirtatious or more flirtatious if it comes this naturally without intention?
A question for another day. Because right now he's a little too focused on Cain's descriptions of him as "magic" and "otherwordly", trying desperately not to let it show on his face. That's... after what they talked about earlier, after what they've said, after established attraction, isn't that romantic? Is there a way it isn't? ]
Volshebnyy... and nez... nezemnoy? [ He glances to him for confirmation before humming quietly, ignoring the lump in his throat. ]
I guess for you I'd say something like 著しい. Or 侘び寂び.
著しい is easier to translate. It means something significant or conspicuous. Not good or bad, just leaves a big impression. Striking.
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Cain realizes his attention has drifted when the sound of Insomnian draws him back in.]
"Striking", huh. Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment.
[There are worse ways to say he sorely sticks out, and he's heard them all before. It wasn't his intention, but he's enjoying this — hearing what Noctis thinks of him in another language. His native language from some other world.
Mimicking how Noctis has initiated physical contact, he uncrosses a leg and nudges his foot against Noctis's calf.]
So now you gotta translate the other one for me.
no subject
Fine. I guess I can't stop you from taking it however you want. That means "magic" and "beyond this world" are compliments too. [ It sounds like a joke and that he's deciding for himself right now. In reality he already thought they were. ]
侘び寂び is... ah, the whole word doesn't translate to anything. It's an idea. Some people make a way bigger deal out of it than others, but... 侘び is when something's nice in a subtle way. 寂び is the rust or age on something.
When you put them together it's when something is good because it's not perfect. Like if it's old or broken or messed up somehow. It'd be worse if it weren't, because then you wouldn't appreciate it or it wouldn't be different. And sometimes it's just still in progress.
[ He takes a short breath, unaccustomed to talking so much or so seriously. Expectedly, he breaks the tension. ]
Like how you're an asshole, but you're becoming less of one.
no subject
Something good because it's not perfect.
And then of course Noctis takes the edge off, that jest meant to allay the new tension between them. Cain's almost disappointed. He's been staring at Noctis's mouth, remembering how it felt to kiss him and wondering if there is some way to make it happen again, but... obviously that's a stupid thought fueled by runaway attraction. What happened before was all adrenaline, and there's still a big, glaring, unspoken question between them.
One in the shape of a boy.
Cain huffs, leaning back suddenly and holding his cigarette aloft.]
Hey, you ever smoke before? [Pinched fingers hold it out.] Wanna try?
no subject
You're really asking? Who do you think would offer me something like that?
[ Certainly no classmates, unless they wanted a reckoning with teachers or parents. No friends, not when that category has a population of one and he doesn't believe Prompto's ever smoked in his life. No strangers, not when he might not know them but everyone in Insomnia had known him.
Cain's like a breath of fresh air. Irreverent, exciting, rough in a way he understands, and rough in a way he doesn't. There was a certain chemistry they had when they were challenging each other and arguing, and in fighting for resolution he expected some of that to fade. It hasn't, it's just now layered with an undercurrent of understanding.
So a gloved hand reaches out, fingers brushing Cain's when he nicks the cigarette off of him. ]
... you do that a lot, you know. I say all kinds of stuff, then you change the subject...
Why? 'Cause you don't know what to say? [ It's lifted to his mouth after a moment, brow furrowed as he places it between his lips with a short inhale. There's a clear effort to make the action appear casual, a common theme underlying his inexperience with life, and the cloud of smoke that leaves his mouth looks too thick to have even made it to his lungs. ]
no subject
A snicker as Noctis aims for casual ease with the cigarette. It's not like he doesn't know it'll be new to him, so there's no point pretending, but it's a little cute that he tries anyway.]
... 'Cause I'm thinking. [He taps his own temple with two fingers.] About why you'd call me that and what it's supposed to mean. It's just... dunno, how I am. I want to be careful what I say, not just with you but with everyone.
[It isn't easy for him to speak his mind; Noctis should get that by now.]
But mostly you. [A slight smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, though it doesn't stay.] You're the one challenging me the most whenever we talk. And you played it down just now, didn't you, calling me less of an asshole. But thanks.
... C'mon, at least try to actually smoke it. Take a real breath.
no subject
[ It's too easy a jab not to make and is even partly sincere, forced to wonder what it would be like if Cain weren't constantly filtering himself around him. What if he were to be the same in return? The thought is immediately intimidating, and he loses the will to push him on it. ]
I was smoking it, by the way, or did you not notice? You show me again, then, if you're such an expert. [ The cigarette is held back out without any real sense of agitation or competition for once. He can still taste the smoke, less sharp and suffocating than the razing of ground by his elemancy, and decides at once that it isn't unpleasant. ]
It's pretty weird, actually. That after this whole conversation you're sitting there trying to guess what I mean, again. I feel like we made it obvious that we're both bad at it and always wrong, but you'd still rather do that than ask me.
no subject
You seriously think I don't know how to smoke? Just admit you don't know what you're doing. It's not like I'm gonna blame you — just gotta have the experience, which you're getting right now.
[Cain plucks the cigarette back with another gentle slide of fingers, then takes a deep drag off the end, blowing out smoke in a funneled stream.]
When you do it right, you get this nice, heady feeling... like all the rough edges get filed off whatever's nagging you. You need to inhale like you mean it, though. Breathe into your chest. [Hand extended once again, he offers the cigarette back.] It sounds like you want me to ask, so I will.
侘び...寂び. [His own accent is strong.] What does that really mean? Without just saying I'm less of an asshole.
no subject
... feels like I have a lot of rough edges right now. Might take more. [ It doesn't sound self-pitying, rather one more bit of honesty between them. It feels like Cain can relate, anyway, and commiseration doesn't need to be wordy to be felt. So he places the dart between his lips and again sucks in smoke, taking as deep a breath he can and holding it for a few seconds longer before he exhales. ] I definitely wanted you to ask, by the way. Not 'cause I wanna' figure out how to word it. Just because I've gotta' train you to have normal conversations apparently.
–thanks. [ He reaches out his hand to pass the smoke back off before pausing, suddenly taking another quick drag before it's actually relinquished. He needs it. ]
... you know the phrase "diamond in the rough"? When something has a lot of good in it but people don't see it. I guess... I see it in you. You don't make it easy, and that's obviously on purpose. You... I dunno. You get crass or act like a dick to chase people off, like you did with me. But then you act like this too, and it's a different person. This guy's pretty cool.
And when you're like this I know you mean it, 'cause of the other stuff. "Beauty in imperfection", it means something like that.
no subject
But then comes the rest. And Cain finds that his attention is deeply fixed on the other man, caught on every word with focus — a little terrified to hear what he has to say. Maybe that's part of what he's avoided. Knowing Noctis' real opinion of him, in light of all he's said and done by now, is unvisited territory. It will reveal too much truth. In their reflection of one another, Cain has always thought of himself as lesser, worse than Noctis' high-minded ideals and bravery; he doesn't know what to do when he's spoken of like this instead.
It sounds — affectionate. Is he just crazy?]
... Didn't think I'd ever hear you talk about me like that.
[And what is he supposed to do with it? The atmosphere changes with his own tension and uncertainty, exposed by vulnerability, and though he would like to think of himself as beyond such a childish reaction, his face feels hot.]
Thanks, I guess. [Eye contact has become impossible.] Keep the cig. Got plenty more where that came from.
["Anyway, good talk." Noctis has effectively put him on the back foot. But not enough that he can't say —]
Ty krutoy.
🎀
[ His hand retracts, pulling back that proffered smoke to eye it himself. Even holding it feels like some kind of crime, but not more so than engaging in their current conversation. They were meant to settle things and get along, and they've achieved that, but Cain's reticence makes him feel... almost unsure. Like he's said something right enough to be wrong, and he wonders, not for the first time, if this also counts as pushing him too far too fast.
The compliment sits well on top of everything else, easing some of his doubt and ensuring that shared warmth stays painted on his face too. ]
Here I thought I got pretty close earlier. [ He takes a deep breath, ashing that cigarette with a gentle tap as he looks over. ]
... thanks. I'll, ah... talk to you later for the questions, okay? [ After a moment's consideration he stands first, plucking up that heater and leaving Cain to spend more time in the cool air clearing his head.
He's got his own thinking to do. ]