Ian
Gold Studios was located inside an old two-story
brick building down in LoDo. The place had multiple entrances, one of
which was glass and painted with the studio's name and logo (an elegant
golden ballerina,) and another which was solid and unmarked and led in
off the sidewalk - if you happened to have a key. It was the latter door
that Ian and his dance company used every day to access their rehearsal
space. When he texted Kalen with the address, there were instructions
to go to that door and wait to be let in.
It was the first
time that Ian had ever brought anyone here. Elijah and Arionna had seen
him perform, but none of them knew where he practiced when he wasn't on
stage. In a way, the studio was more intimate. It had his resonance in
it, soaked up somehow by the pores in the wooden floor. Even outside,
Kalen would feel a hint of his presence. He didn't have long to wait
before the door opened and Ian ushered him in.
"Hey. Our space
is upstairs." He gestured for Kalen to follow him as he ascended the
old staircase, its floorboards creaking in tired protest beneath their
weight. At the top of the steps, they reached a hallway. Ian led them
past a couple of closed doors and into a small, bright studio space. One of the walls was lined with tall, arched
windows where the evening light poured in from outside. The opposite
wall was a solid stretch of mirrors. A couple of chairs sat
abandoned in a far corner, and a long wooden ballet bar was installed beneath the
windows. The room was empty apart from the two of them. Ian looked as
though he'd been practicing before Kalen's arrival. He had on a pair of
capri-length drawstring yoga pants (black) and a white tank top. His
feet were bare, and his skin had a light shimmer of sweat.
Once they were inside, he closed the door.
"I've got the room for the rest of the evening, so we can take as long as you need."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
seems to drink in a sense of the building and the sound of the
floorboards and the wash of light in the studio. He's quiet as they
head up and into the studio, but that seems less because he's withdrawn
or wary and more because he's just taking in a new place.
Kalen
is wearing workout clothes in the manner of someone who has both a dry
cleaning budget and someone to deal with their dry cleaning. His pants
are a shimmery gray Thai silk, lovely and almost certainly not something
he found in a store. His shirt, at least, is a reasonable enough
cotton, a soft pale lavender. It's a lovely color, and it brings out
the green in his eyes, and if Kalen is at all self-conscious about
wandering around Denver in pastel purple it certainly doesn't show.
Under other circumstances he might have drawn more attention to his
eyes, but who puts on makeup for dancing practice?
A medium-sized bag, presumably containing a change of clothes, joins his shoes just inside the door.
"I
guess we'll see how it goes then. I've done barely any formal dancing
for years now. Almost four, I think." He smiles a little, looks away
from the windows and the city to regard Ian. "Thank you. For doing
this."
Ian
"I could probably charge a lot for a
private tango lesson." Ian eyed Kalen with a roguish grin, teasing in
that sharp way of his. "But we can just say you owe me one." (There
were, after all, many things the two of them could teach each other.)
He didn't say he would have offered regardless. Perhaps that was assumed. (Perhaps not.)
"Before
we start, I think maybe we should talk." Ian's tone and expression were
serious now. There was some hint of reluctance in his
voice; in the way he turned his head toward the windows and away from
Kalen's face - as though to gather his thoughts.
"You didn't
contact me, after... all that mess with the vampires, so I figured you
wanted to be left alone. I guess I did too." Ian's eyes swept back to
meet Kalen's gaze, but whatever it was he wanted to say, he seemed to
have a difficult time articulating it. There was a long pause, then an
exhale - soft and a little frustrated (defeated?)
"I was angry at you." (Angry was the wrong word, but he chose it anyway.)
Kalen Holliday
"Very well. I will owe you one." Kalen's smile widens, just a touch. "Thank you anyway."
Ian
brings up talking and there is a little twitch of Kalen's eyebrows
toward each other, not anything so much as confusion. Kalen doesn't
really associate Ian with talking anymore. Not that soft weighty tone,
not...there are a number of tones he's mostly ceased to expect from Ian.
He lets Ian look away. Grants him whatever time he wants to be ready to speak.
And then Kalen listens.
There isn't much sign of any real reaction while Ian is speaking, but
there is not so much distance as stillness. There is a pause for one
soft breath.
Another.
Another.
And then,
"I didn't talk to anyone really, for awhile. In some senses I still
don't." He closes his eyes, takes another breath, and then opens them
again. "For what it may be worth it to you know, I was angry, but
mostly not at you.
"I understand why you were angry. I
understood then, too." Kalen sighs. "As I recall, I apologized for
that." There is a hint of a smile, but edged and dark. "And I learned
what I had forgotten, which is why the Order stands apart from all of
you.
"I still don't agree with that, before you get it into
your head that I've determined I should wall myself off and build either
a literal or a metaphorical fortress. That hasn't changed. I just
realized I don't agree with all of you so much either."
"But I
am sorry I didn't say more. At the time I was upset, and angry, and I
wanted no part of any of you. You did all still deserve better than I
gave you, we can agree on that, if nothing else."
Ian
"Mm."
Ian was quiet here, just that small sound low in his throat. It might
have meant any number of things. "I wasn't after an apology." He didn't
speak again for a long time.
"I would have done a lot of the
same things, you know. I would have gone there. I would have danced with
that vampire. Maybe I even would have kissed him, if it got me what I
needed. I've done worse than that before. But I had this memory, while I
was watching the two of you. From when we were in Bastion. At the end,
when everything was coming apart, and I saw you watching the world
shatter. It felt like that again.
"I wasn't angry. That's just... easier for me to express."
He
turned around then, walking over to a cabinet by the wall. The stereo
inside had a wireless connection to his phone, so it only took a moment
to set up a music playlist. Maybe he needed the time to let things
settle, but he didn't seem... upset, exactly. A lot of time had passed
since the events they were discussing.
"You should warm up, if you haven't already."
Kalen Holliday
"It
did not feel the same to me," Kalen says, very softly. "Which would
change your perceptions not at all, I suppose." But in what ways or for
what reasons he does not offer. Perhaps once he would have.
Ian
walks away, toward the cabinet, and Kalem seems ready to let that
admission be swallowed up by stillness. Slip beneath the surface of
their skin and let the ripples smooth over into something clear and
smooth as glass.
And what if someone had just asked the elephant?
For
a few impossible seconds he can taste light and he can practically feel
butterfly wings brushing his skin. Their wings beat and there are so
many tiny pulses beating against his tongue and-
And of course the surface of whatever they have could be nothing like glass.
He almost does ask, but then Ian is saying something about warming up.
Maybe
glass like that lightning-fused sand. Or like that glass threaded out
as fine and clear, the kind that fragmented and slid invisible and
nearly impossible to remove beneath the skin. Sharp. Lingering.
Kalen
stretches, and the movements are finally almost back to the version of
himself that Kalen remembers but no one still in Denver has seen. He
may not ever be so physically imposing as that again; in no small part
because he will likely never have a training schedule quite so
pronounced again.
He stays aware of Ian, but he is not so
much concerned with what Ian is doing. He doesn't need Ian to tell him
how to stretch, or when he's ready. He only needs to move and so he does.
Ian
He
watched Kalen warm up for a moment, leaving the room to settle in
silence. "Sorry if I made things awkward. I didn't... mean to do that."
Almost he said something else, but instead he just hit play and set his
phone down.
The music wasn't what one might expect for a tango
lesson. At least, not on the surface. The timing and rhythm of it was
right, but they weren't classic tango songs. Maybe Ian didn't like that
kind of music, or maybe he just wanted to pick something a little more
original. The first one was slow and languid. Cat Power's cover of Satisfaction. Ian walked up to Kalen and offered a hand, drawing him into the center of the room.
"The
tango is a really gendered dance, traditionally, but I like to play
with the roles. Let it evolve naturally. The really important thing is
to pay attention to your partner's body language."
Kalen
probably knew that already, if he'd done this kind of dancing before.
Ian set one of his hands on Kalen's side and threaded the other through
Kalen's fingers, arms raised in the proper pose. He meant to lead,
initially, though if Kalen wanted to switch roles, he could. Then he
started to move in timed steps, keeping things slow and easy.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
takes a little careful breath at the contact, and there is something
controlled about that, though he relaxes a second later, before their
fingers have finished entwining. All the sharp delicacy of of threaded
volcanic glass.
"I would not call this awkward," he says, as
he begins to follow Ian through the first few steps of the song. Sand
fused into something rough-edged. Obsidian blades.
Claws. Stained glass.
"Razor-edged
and waltzing just along where infinity meets oblivion, I would give
you. And this may be something I have both hated and loved for that,
but you are never something I had any desire to walk away from." It is
among the least guarded things Kalen has said to him since they came
back from that Mindscape.
It may seem like an odd time to be
unguarded, but dancing has to be open to really work. Kalen is
breathing and he is aware of Ian breathing. Ian's fingers and his.
It's the most present he's ever really gotten Kalen in a moment, both
because Kalen has learned to be open to moments as something other than a
series of things that blow past him like leaves and because dancing
with someone has always brought him into a fluid moment that is motion
and breath and awareness. There have been conversations between them
where Kalen was anticipating entire lifetimes, but Kalen's expectations
right now seem to be, entirely, that there will be this step and then if
there is still music and they are still breathing, another step.
Ian
[Dex+Performance]
Dice: 8 d10 TN5 (2, 2, 3, 3, 6, 6, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 6 ) Re-rolls: 2
Ian
Perhaps
they were both more honest in movement, then. Honest? No, neither of
them had been especially dishonest lately. But there was an ease to the
way they moved together that ran counter to the difficulty with which
they spoke. Ian was not so much open here as he was expressive,
communicating in ways that felt more nuanced and elegant than he often
was in day-to-day conversation. Kalen had seen Ian dancing in
nightclubs, so he had some sense of his skills, but he'd never really
seen Ian perform before. Never seen the way he communicated emotion with
his body. Ian didn't quite let go, because he didn't forget that he was
giving Kalen a lesson. So he watched Kalen's movements, nudging him
subtly now and then if his timing fell off or pausing to help him adjust
his footing. But there was an intimacy to it that wasn't what Kalen
would have gotten from a different teacher.
Mid-way through
the song, Ian switched his hold from Kalen's waist to his shoulder. When
he did this, something changed in his body language. This softening
receptivity. For a moment he let himself get swept up in the music,
arcing up onto his toes to do a complicated bit of footwork that had him
dancing around Kalen's legs. When he was done, he smiled a little and
said, "Now you try," switching his hands back around.
Kalen Holliday
[DexAthletics D=6 WP because ZOMG IAN]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Kalen Holliday
Ian doesn't answer, at least not by speaking, and Kalen settles into dancing.
This
is, in more ways than he cares to admit, exactly what Kalen wants right
now. There wasn't really much expectation of this from Ian; rather,
Kalen had expected a different dance partner at a slightly greater
temporal distance from present. And there would be something different
with Wesley, less instruction and less history.
Ian slips
into a new position and then into something intricate and elegant.
Kalen watches how he moves. And then, Ian asks him to try that and he
laughs. There is nothing in this laugh that is dark or edged.
And
then he tries, though arched feet are not something he is terribly
familiar with and intricacy is...something he's generally left to his
partners. Still, his first dancing lesson with Ian proceeds, at least
thus far, better than his first sparring session with Alexander.
Ian
Kalen laughed, because asking him to reproduce a
move like that on their first lesson was perhaps a bit over-hopeful, but
Ian just smiled and helped him through it. Kalen had a good enough
sense of rhythm not to throw the dance off, even when he was trying
something new. Perhaps he wasn't quite the performer that Ian was, but
how many people were? This was a conversation, not a competition. Either
way, Kalen proved agile and adaptable. He was a fast learner. (One
would imagine he had to be, to succeed in the Order.)
The song
changed, moving from Cat Power's low, dulcet tones to Radiohead's Nude.
Ian lead Kalen in a sweep around the room and paused to dip him low
toward the ground before pulling him up again. His footwork changed,
moving just a little faster - the steps a little more complicated. And
at the end he set his hands to Kalen's waist and lifted him from the
ground, giving a slow spin as he lowered him back down.
"I
won't ask you to do that one." He grinned softly and took a step back,
moving to the cabinet to stop the music. When the speakers went quiet,
the room suddenly seemed very large and very empty.
Kalen
For
all that Kalen has done a reasonable amount of dancing with partners
more experienced than he is, he is not used to being put near the floor
or lifted off it. That dip gets a startled little smile, but that Kalen
is relatively at ease with, whether or not he was expecting it. He
does, after all, trust Ian. There is a little tension when Ian lifts
him off the ground and a tiny frown; still, it is Ian, and for all he
isn't sure about being held off of the ground, Kalen doesn't fight with
him at all.
"I doubt I'm really back in the kind of shape I'd
need to be to lift people off of the ground," Kalen says quietly.
"Though perhaps one day." It isn't entirely clear if he means that to
refer t being back in that shape, or picking people up in the process of
dancing, or both.
Ian turns the speakers off and the room
goes quiet. Without the sound pressing against his skin, Kalen can
suddenly feel the space. Registers the change in the quality of the
light through the windows by something other than how that light is
playing against Ian's skin.
Dancing, even when he was being
asked to try unfamiliar steps or being taken off of the floor was
relatively easy. The next steps were steps, mostly. The next steps
with Ian while not dancing are...muddier. Weightier.
And so
he tries for something that might not be so complicated. The kind of
thing that maybe he should have tried before, instead of trying to talk
about eternity and things whose weight had settled between them like
distance and shadows. "You dance beautifully. Which I would have
already seen if I was less preoccupied with the end of the world,
admittedly." There is a soft, slightly apologetic smile. And Kalen has
seen Ian dance, but never like this. Of course, just coming
to a performance wouldn't really have shown him this either. And Kalen
almost must suspect that, apology or no.
Ian
Ian's
response to that was difficult to parse. He'd meant to use the
intervening quiet to discuss and demonstrate a few of the finer points
that Kalen could improve upon - to allow Kalen time to practice those
moves without the music there to usher him along. Instead Kalen said
what he said, and Ian stalled for a moment, shutting the cabinet doors a
bit more slowly than he needed to. When he turned around, there was a
ghost of a smile - barely there and gone a moment later.
"Thanks." He took a breath and exhaled quietly. "I can show you a bit of the new piece I've been working on, if you want."
Kalen
If he wants.
There
are so many things that he wants right now that he is silent while they
wage a war to be the one thing that he says. The thing that this
moment will be about instead of some other moment in a future that may
or may not come to pass. Right now there is the memory of light on
Ian's skin and shadows falling over that same skin. There is the weight
of knowing that there is a painting that Ian may never see and that he
may never see Ian see; truthfully, he expects the second is more likely
than the first, but Ian too is willing enough to place himself in
danger. There is the lingering sense of warmth on his skin and there
is....
"Tonight is definitely for dancing," he says finally.
"And while I would like to practice at least a little more of it, I
would certainly also enjoy watching this new thing. There is a kind of
transcendence in something that is still unfolding." And that is, all
of it, true. He might want to resume practicing because he wants
tonight to be close to someone and he's willing to let that just be
because of the tango. That is, really, enough. And there is, at least
to him, a kind of transcendence in creation, enough so that he's willing
not to be touching Ian to see it.
Ian
[Dex+Performance diff 8 because ballet is hard -1 from aptitude -1 from being rehearsed]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 4, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 2 [WP]
Ian
"Oh,
don't worry. We've got lots more work to do." His expression there had a
wry edge. Almost a taunt. (Oh no, this lesson would not be over that
easily.)
Ian pulled open the A/V cabinet again, searching
through his music until he found the right track. There was a three
second delay as he walked to the center of the room and settled into
position. Three beats of silence before the music started, and then...
The
song started out quickly - this tumbling roll of piano notes that then
fell back to a low, pulsing beat. The sound system in the rehearsal
space was high quality, enough so that the faint pop of natural reverb
in the drum was audible if one was paying attention. Perhaps it was
just a trick of the music, but it really did feel like a slow heartbeat.
Ian dove into the current of the song with a quick flurry of pirouettes
that looked for a moment to take his balance off-kilter, except that
the flow of his movements never wavered - dancing on the edge of falling
(controlled surrender.) When the music slowed, so did he. The dance
transformed as Kalen watched, shifting from the more classical ballet to
something modern and interpretive. Ian lowered his weight to the ground
and drew his body into a fluid, artful pose, bending his spine at an
impossible angle as it lifted from the ground, drawing his head and arms
as though some invisible hand were pulling him up. He rolled - slid
into another pose, and another. The force of expression in his eyes and
his body slid from pain to longing to wistful joy.
You
say too much and I'll be gone. I had my doubts all the day. The streets
are out, I know they are not wanted. But I could not see. Shine a light
in my window. Don't mean to cast any doubt, but what makes you so sure
that it's not magic you're here?
As he danced,
Ian's body became something other than human - an instrument of art, of
expression. Ian was always beautiful, but here he was (as Kalen put it) transcendent.
There were years of training and dedication behind this kind of
performance, but he made it look completely instinctive - and in a way,
it was. Beyond the blood and pain and tireless repetition, there was a
point where the mind stopped thinking and the body just did what it knew
how to do. Where the music and the visceral emotion swept in and took
over. The music swelled again, and the dance sped up - became a flourish
of passionate energy (and god, Ian could jump...)
So what makes you think it's clear? Don't mean to cast any doubt, but it's not magic you're here.
As
the song wound down, the dance started to feel different. More
weighted. Like coming back to earth after flight. And then Ian collapsed
onto the ground, his chest expanding and contracting with each deep
breath.
The room grew silent again. After a while, he sat up and got to his feet.
Kalen
Kalen
meant to catch his breath. Not so much from the dancing as from
dancing with Ian while any kind of contact is complicated and perfect
and feels like it might actually be burning him alive. Ian is glorious
and transcendent and the song asks questions that Kalen practically
asked and this is a kind of connection.
He wanted that. He even wanted that with Ian.
Except
now that there is this sense of something immediate and real Kalen has
lost any real sense of how to process that. Ian collapses onto the
floor and Kalen, Kalen who has never been used to people collapsing for
artistic reasons feels his heart rate jump.
Ian stays still
after that, save for his breathing. And so, for the moment, does Kalen.
There is stillness and there is silence and there is something
transcendent and there is light. These are the moments that Kalen used
to try to grasp, but tonight Ian rises and Kalen does not compliment his
dancing or thank him. There is no quiet and awed response that is
measured and precise and delicate. There is not even some impassioned
confession.
Instead, for all that there is awe lurking in a
whole tangle of emotions in his eyes, all he says, very softly, is, "I
am so sorry. I thought-I'm not sure I can do this tonight."
Ian
[Empathy - what's going on? did I do something?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 6, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kalen
[Kalen
has been a little bit off since he arrived, there are things that if
they might have been easy enough to over look at the time, definitely
seem like they meant something now, particularly the way Kalen shuddered
at first being touched. Even when things were odd and strained between
them, Kalen never reacted to his touch like he wasn't actually sure
about it. Right after that first second, everything was fine, and with
the exception of when he was being put off balance, Kalen was pretty
relaxed.
Now he's a little more closed off, and that too is
unusual for him with Ian. He means that apology, and he did think that
he could be here and not drag whatever demons he has after him into
this. But then Ian was dancing and it was incredible and it was so much
more than he expected and right this second he isn't sure whether he
wants to kiss him, or tell him about that painting, or run the fuck
away. He wants to tell him about the dance too, but he doesn't know
how.
That's really what is going on, though all the reasons
why are harder to guess. Kalen is finally not sending all his emotions
into little corners of his mind to wait for his attention and
experiencing moments when they are happening has never been something
he's particularly good at. There are emotions, and he doesn't know how
to respond to them, and rather than entangling Ian in them he seems
about ready to bolt.]
Ian
It was awkward, but
that wasn't really the reason Ian didn't know how to react. When he got
to his feet, he looked at Kalen with a mix of veiled expectation and
quiet confusion, waiting in the silence for some kind of response. What
Kalen finally offered was... not what he expected, and for a moment Ian
was lost for words, searching Kalen's eyes for answers which he couldn't
fully grasp the meaning of.
The real answers, of course,
remained illusive. But he saw enough to understand something of what
Kalen was feeling. Ian took a breath before he tried to speak (slow,
calming.)
"It's okay. We can try another time." He paced
across to where Kalen stood, but stopped just shy of entering his
personal space. "I'm sorry if I..." he stopped, pressing his lips
together. Then he tried again. "Are you okay?"
Kalen
Kalen
gives a very slight shake of his head. "No." His voice is still quiet
and hesitant and there is a faint tremor to it. And then Kalen shakes
his head again. "No. No, this was...you were...you were incredible.
I-just wasn't...ready.
"Alexander isn't talking to me so
much right now because he thinks I'm not really me and I...I thought I
belonged here and I don't know now. And this...this was exactly what I
wanted, I just didn't expect you to be quite so honest and I can't-"
He
takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. "And I am such a
jerk, I am sorry. Your dance, it was incredible. I've never seen
anyone move like that. You...you're...I don't know why I thought I
could know you without seeing you dance." There is a smile and it is
quick and shaky but it is real. "Of course, we have established that
I'm kind of an idiot."
Kalen takes another deep breath. "I'll
be fine. Alexander will do his detective thing and figure out that I
am not a clone or whatever, and I don't know why I thought that this
whole glorious tangle of Magi could just work. For awhile it seemed to
and I wanted to forget I couldn't really be part of it. Because I
wanted to, mostly. And maybe I can be, but.....
"Regardless,
it will be fine. I will be fine. I'm not now. I'm off balance and I
will do something ridiculous and you have understandably little patience
for that. And I would go back to dancing without the whole speaking
thing but as amazing as that sounds right now I think I would cry and
that will just fuck that all up."
Ian
I don't know why I thought I could know you without seeing you dance.
Ian
hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected any of it, but that
confession, striking in its honesty and awareness, cut deeper than
perhaps Kalen realized it would. Ian didn't respond - at least not
verbally. Maybe he couldn't. There were places within him that he had to
open up and draw out when he danced, and doing so left him vulnerable.
But his eyes went wide and soft.
He let Kalen speak. Let him
unpack his feelings about Alexander and the other mages. And when he was
done, the room grew quiet again. Outside, the sounds of the city were a
muted echo.
"It's alright to cry, Kalen. If you need to."
Ian's
skin had a kind of glow where the light struck it. He smelled like
sweat. When he reached out, he touched the back of Kalen's wrist gently -
a careful gesture that seemed to invite further contact without pushing
for it.
Kalen
Kalen is very still while Ian
speaks. He wasn't exactly expecting any of that either. But Ian
doesn't back away and he doesn't try to create distance; instead Ian
closes the last distance between them and reaches out to touch him.
And
then he does move, not to the door but to embrace Ian. There are at
least a few seconds where he is not crying and he wants to tell Ian that
he loves him, but that seems like it is not at all what this particular
moment demands so he says the closest possible thing to that, though it
may be slightly less comprehensible to Ian why what Kalen murmurs is,
"I bought you a painting and I think you might kill me when you see it."
And his voice is shaking and his breath is shaking and he is shaking,
though he is not precisely crying.
Ian
There
was barely a scant layer of fabric between the two of them - garments of
silk and cotton. It made the presence and the realness of Kalen's
body that much more immediate. Kalen stepped in for an embrace, and Ian
let it happen, wrapping his arms around Kalen's shoulders. Ian's own
body was warm (heated from exertion) and rooted and just receptive
enough to make the contact feel natural. How long had it been since
they'd held each other like this? A long time. Ian was not the same
person he'd been then. If he had been, this probably wouldn't have
happened.
When Kalen started shaking, Ian tightened his hold.
His heartbeat could be felt through the thin cotton of his shirt.
Kalen's hands found slightly damp fabric and firm muscle and the long
slope of Ian's spine.
Ian exhaled quietly when Kalen spoke. It
might have almost been a laugh, except that everything else about him
in that moment was calm and grounded. "Why do you think that?"
Kalen
There
is a very soft, choked sound when Ian's arms wrap around his. Kalen
wasn't precisely expecting that either, even now. He lets his head drop
so that his forehead rests against Ian's shoulder.
Why do you think that?
Kalen
hears him, but the only real sign of that is in a little huff of breath
and a smile that is mostly hidden from Ian's view. Ian's shirt is
already damp and there are only a few tears while Kalen focuses on his
own breathing and then decides that isn't helping much and focuses on
Ian's breathing instead.
"Because I have on at least once
occasion paid less for a car," he says when his voice and his breathing
are cooperating again. "Which I suspected would infuriate you. You'll
understand when you see it though. It really couldn't be anyone else's
painting." There is a breath and then a little shaky laugh. "If it's
any consolation, it was a terrible car."
Ian
Ian exhaled again, long and quiet. "Kalen..."
It
might have been chastisement or affection or frustration or humor or
any number of other things, and it sounded a bit like all of them rolled
up together.
"I'm not going to kill you." Perhaps when Ian
actually saw the painting he might have more to say about it, but for
now he let it go. He let Kalen rest against him for a while, and if he
noticed the dampness on his shoulder, he didn't comment. After a while -
and only when it seemed as though Kalen might be alright to stand on
his own - Ian dropped his arms and stepped away.
"If we're done, I should go shower. Are you okay to drive home?"
Kalen
Kalen
sighs a little when Ian confirms that he will not kill him. Maybe, if
he felt slightly less awful in general he would have teased Ian about
figures of speech. He is reasonably sure that he has done a number of
things to Ian more exasperating than buying a painting.
There
is a little murmur of sound when Ian steps away, but Kalen makes no
attempt to cling to him. And he does manage not to collapse onto the
floor.
Is he okay to drive home?
If only
Ian had seen some of the things he drove after. Or hell, through. He
smiles a little though. "Yeah. I'm good for that." There is a breath.
There are things he might say, but he does know a dismissal when he
hears one and he is better. More than fine to go home and collapse onto
a couch with a bottle of wine and call his priest.
"Thank you."
