comicshavefailedme | LL cont’

LL cont’

[Bad ideas. That’s what Rafael was famous for. Sometimes those bad ideas would pan out into groundbreaking technologies. Other times it would blow up spectacularly in his face - and by extension, all faces adjacent. Not that it ever stopped him from coming up with more.

This one, though. A bridge too far.

Aracha - if that really could be called his name anymore - sat, hunched over, cycling a trinket between his fingers as though in a trance. It felt like the slow, tactile motion was the only thing still keeping him grounded to reality (again, questionable). His mind was… far, far away, in a place that might not even exist anymore, lost. But more than that, alone, in a vast, empty field of deaf, silent rage. And that cold silence seeped into every crack in his brain, filling the folds of his thoughts, the hollow space in his bones, the pockets in his lungs.

He wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. None of this was real. He knew that now.

At some point, his fiance was going to walk through the door and find him sitting at the foot of ~~their~~ his bed. And one way or another, this lie would be shattered.]

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[YOU BIIIITTTCCHHHHHH]

I think they forgot t'include something in this room.

Yeah. Wine.

[ breathes out. ]

It's fine. You can have the bed.

[Curtly,]

Fine. I will.

[In a show of dominance to lay claim to his new territory, Kaine proceeds to walk over to the bed and flop down into it. It's the pissiest way anyone has ever laid down in a bed.]

How do you manage to make every move you make so mad looking?

Because I am mad. At everything.

[ what else did i expect. ]

Fine. I'll celebrate our freedom by myself, over here.

...

[It does seem callous to underplay this achievement. Isn't it what Kaine wanted too? It felt impossible for so long.]

You're right. We need booze.

[ nodding like Kaine has never been more right in his life. ]

There's a bar. I bet I can get us a bottle of something.

[Involuntarily, Kaine's lip curls in a sneer as he pictures Miguel chatting up the bartender this time.]

Yeah, I bet you will. Well I don't wanna watch.

Okaaaay.

[ WHY DOES THIS MAN, WHO DOESNT LIKE ME, GET SO MAD ABOUT THIS!! ]

Do you have a way to get some?

[I'M NOT MAD YOU'RE MAD!!!]

Not unless we wanna get blacklisted from this hotel.

[......the answer is stealing it.]

We don't. I'll be back soon.

Hmph.

[He doesn't add anything else, just rolls over in bed. GO GET US BOOZE THEN, YOU HUSSY.]

[ He feels... kind of sad, for some reason. But it's time to go be a slut for whiskey.

About twenty minutes later, he's returned with a bottle of Fireball and a box that smells utterly divine; chicken wings lay within. He's placing that on the nightstand nearest Kaine, but the bottle gets placed on the table while he looks for cups. ]

It sounds like some of the other ship guests are in a similar position as us, so a lot of the locals are being pretty resourceful. Bartender was pretty fascinated by what happened. I guess it's made the news.

[In the amount of time it took for Miguel to come back, Kaine had gotten bored and explored their hotel room. The complimentary tea and coffee, the kitchenette, the bathroom.

The mirror in the bathroom...

He stands there for a while, taking in his reflection. It wasn't that long ago when he only saw himself when he looked in the mirror. Now who was he? Peter, Aracha, Kaine... all three stared back at him.

...God. He needed a shower. He'd spent the last week or so in a stupor, either depressed or drunk or both. Not a lot of time for personal hygiene. Who knows when Miguel would be done chatting up the locals, anyway.

By the time he does come back, it's to the sound of a shower running. Kaine can faintly hear what he's saying through the walls - knows enough to rinse off and finish up. Gotta towel off his hair.

Muffled, from the bathroom:]

But did you get the booze?

Of course I did. I wouldn't let you down.

[ Normally, he wouldn't think twice about a man in the shower. But this isn't just a man—he knows every inch of this man's body, dry or wet. Clothed or not.

...he's trying to find the cups a little faster, and—a teacup? Sure. Fine. Whatever. He needs to keep his mind away from the other side of that door. ]

[After a few more minutes, Kaine wraps the complimentary hotel bathrobe around himself and comes out, seemingly ignorant of how he looked - hair damp and slicked back, his skin rosy with the afterglow of a hot shower, poking out from beneath his robe.

Gestures at Miguel for drink, not really caring if it came in a cup or the whole damn bottle. Gimme.]

That whiskey?

Yeah. Cinnamon whisk...ey.... . . .

[ He's dropping off there as he passes over a styrofoam cup of the precious golden liquid, because. Well. He...

He.

...he has a terrible problem. A very terrible one. A truly outrageously horrendous problem!

Oh my god he's beautiful. ]

[Kaine nearly drops the cup as it's passed to him, the thought is so loud. It slams into him like a car crash, lighting up ever nerve at once as his heart suddenly struggles to contain the overflow of emotion: embarrassment, panic, desire, affection, indignation, desperation, shame.

Fuck. FUCK!

There was only one way to deal with this. And that was to down the entire cup of whiskey in one go.

Thankfully the burn as it goes down is strong enough to distract from all this other bad feelings right now! Great news even as it settles into a pit of fire in his stomach.]

urk

[ Second problem: this man is a Miguel mind-reader. He brings his hand back, balling it into a fist so he can focus on the pressure, rather than a sight in front of him that will have him spiralling into a whirlwind of emotions that aren't supposed to belong to him. ]

Look, I—I'm sorry.

[ quick, apologize for your dick before the man passes out... ]

[Kaine wobbles on his feet, feeling a little bit sick and a lot of regret. But in what direction that regret was aimed at, he had no idea. Without thinking (it's possible that he's lost that function entirely), he tosses the styrofoam cup to the side and grabs the front of Miguel's shirt in an aggressive fistful of cloth. For balance, of course.

Boy. Looking at him made Kaine mad. He had no idea why.]

You.

[ There's a heavy thump in his chest, and Miguel doesn't want to take the time to puzzle together whether it's because he thinks this is concerning or if he thinks it's hot. Not the time! It'll never be the time!

Instead, he wraps his fingers around Kaine's wrist. ]

I'll leave, if you want.

[The stupid drunk logic in his brain is immediately annoyed by this. He wants to leave! Probably to talk to that receptionist again! He was sooo charming at her!!! Why is he doing this to me!!!!!

Miguel then grabbing his wrist was doing things to him too. Hot things. He growls, pulling ~~Raf~~ Miguel closer.]

You know how I get when you flirt with people.

[Aracha got territorial. Insecure, and jealous, even when he knew better.]

[ Something lower in his body immediately reacts with all the interest in the world. Ohhhh no. All reason escapes his brain immediately, and his thumb gently strokes the inside of Kaine's wrist as he leans closer.

Who is he now? It doesn't matter anymore. He's this amalgamation of a man (or two) who's feeling everything.

When he answers, it's in a low and slow tone. ]

Do you remember what comes after that?

[ An entire weekend in bed as an apology, only punctuated with the important shower time (also not necessarily alone). ]

Shut up.

[Of course he remembers. He can't stop wanting it now, especially having obliterated his better judgment. Kaine's breathing is heavy as the heat of the whiskey travels up his neck, his face. He wobbles a bit more. And decides that hearing Miguel's voice is annoying too.

There's a gap in logic here. But in the next second, he decides that the best thing to do about it is to kiss him.]

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