![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(reply from suspended user)
[He is about to comment on the irony of receiving lessons in how to be politically correct from the guy who had regularly referred to him by the questionable epithet of "bromo," but the sincerity of what next comes out of Asher's mouth finally softens his aloof resistance.]
...Thanks, Asher.
[Then he pushes his hands through his already messy hair, resting his elbows on his knees and swinging his gaze to the man beside him.]
I know I wasn't always the nicest to you...especially back then. Actually, I was pretty much an asshole to you. And I tried to be. So...it means a lot to know you have my back here.
[He doesn't need to say that he has no one else. That he should have Oliver, but their propensity for arguing has torn a rift between them.]
...Thanks, Asher.
[Then he pushes his hands through his already messy hair, resting his elbows on his knees and swinging his gaze to the man beside him.]
I know I wasn't always the nicest to you...especially back then. Actually, I was pretty much an asshole to you. And I tried to be. So...it means a lot to know you have my back here.
[He doesn't need to say that he has no one else. That he should have Oliver, but their propensity for arguing has torn a rift between them.]
[What comes next is a gush of unwavering and unwanted emotion, overwhelming in capacity, enough to stun him into silence- Truly, a miraculous feat.
His heart has yearned for this form of affection for so very long, even this, the bare minimum. To simply be acknowledged, even by an individual who simply has no other options, is enough for Asher Millstone. Connor, unknowingly, has given the doughy ball of feelings hope for his return home, that maybe the kindness he's received here is not the result of some bizarre anomaly, and perhaps one day Annalise's chosen few will be able to truly work together as a real team.
Maybe there is a place for him at Middleton Law, one that is not lonely, or miserable, or...
Dark.]
That's okay.
[The reply comes out instantly, a typical bumble for a pushover like himself. Immediately, he corrects his mistake, even though it's clear that he is not used to doing so.]
Or well, it's not...
[He inhales sharply.]
I used to think that you all left me out of your little-
[Words escape him, and so he traces a circle in the air with a finger in a desperate attempt to portray the supposed closeness of the other four.]
Group thingy because you thought I was a loser... But maybe you were all just dealin' with your own stuff.
[understatement of the century]
So, don't worry about it.
[He utters the following without knowing how in this time and place his choice of speech defines him at his core-]
I forgive you.
His heart has yearned for this form of affection for so very long, even this, the bare minimum. To simply be acknowledged, even by an individual who simply has no other options, is enough for Asher Millstone. Connor, unknowingly, has given the doughy ball of feelings hope for his return home, that maybe the kindness he's received here is not the result of some bizarre anomaly, and perhaps one day Annalise's chosen few will be able to truly work together as a real team.
Maybe there is a place for him at Middleton Law, one that is not lonely, or miserable, or...
Dark.]
That's okay.
[The reply comes out instantly, a typical bumble for a pushover like himself. Immediately, he corrects his mistake, even though it's clear that he is not used to doing so.]
Or well, it's not...
[He inhales sharply.]
I used to think that you all left me out of your little-
[Words escape him, and so he traces a circle in the air with a finger in a desperate attempt to portray the supposed closeness of the other four.]
Group thingy because you thought I was a loser... But maybe you were all just dealin' with your own stuff.
[understatement of the century]
So, don't worry about it.
[He utters the following without knowing how in this time and place his choice of speech defines him at his core-]
I forgive you.
Edited 2017-09-04 18:24 (UTC)
[His eyes avoid Asher, settling instead in the dim corners of the room. Despite the warmth that tinges this moment of reconciliation, this moment made endearing for its peculiarity by the hour and the goofy pajamas donned by the other, Connor cannot help the bitter note he scoffs. And perhaps it is the effect of the late hour, the exhaustion bearing down on his mind, that he lets slip something a little too close to the truth.]
You don't want to be a part of that group. Trust me...you're better off on the outside.
[The Asher he remembers would fall into their little cult of mutual secrets eventually, but the man beside him remains free of that circle which had become his prison even as he eluded jail time for his crimes. This Asher has little idea of the blessing his exlusion truly was.
Then, supposing that it is his turn to pay Asher some kindness, which from him comes awkwardly, rusty with disuse, he says:]
You may be obnoxious at times, and tactless, and your slang is embarrassingly outdated, but... [There's a compliment in here somewhere.] You're not a bad person. Your heart's usually in the right place.
You don't want to be a part of that group. Trust me...you're better off on the outside.
[The Asher he remembers would fall into their little cult of mutual secrets eventually, but the man beside him remains free of that circle which had become his prison even as he eluded jail time for his crimes. This Asher has little idea of the blessing his exlusion truly was.
Then, supposing that it is his turn to pay Asher some kindness, which from him comes awkwardly, rusty with disuse, he says:]
You may be obnoxious at times, and tactless, and your slang is embarrassingly outdated, but... [There's a compliment in here somewhere.] You're not a bad person. Your heart's usually in the right place.
[Connor says that without knowing the blood that has been shed as a result of his own incompetence, whether it be because he was unable to fight properly or too emotional to keep himself from falling farther. He does not know how years ago, Asher's ignorance and alleged silence condemned a young woman to face a horrible fate without the aid of legal counsel, a witness, or even a friend.
Then again, the Asher of yesterday is not the Asher of tomorrow or even the Asher that sits atop the bed this very moment, and those words are proof of how he has grown.]
I really wanna believe that.
[It is his turn to draw within himself, to pull his knees to his chest and crumple to pieces on the inside. Unspoken are the words, "I just don't know if I do."]
Thanks.
Then again, the Asher of yesterday is not the Asher of tomorrow or even the Asher that sits atop the bed this very moment, and those words are proof of how he has grown.]
I really wanna believe that.
[It is his turn to draw within himself, to pull his knees to his chest and crumple to pieces on the inside. Unspoken are the words, "I just don't know if I do."]
Thanks.
[After saying goodbye to Mettaton he doesn't feel much like continuing to work on building his robot baby. He stares at it for a long time, fiddling with the pieces absently until he gets tired of pretending he's going to get anything done.
He sighs, dropping his screwdriver down on the dresser. If his closest friend is leaving there's only one other person he wants to see right now.]
Can I see you?
He sighs, dropping his screwdriver down on the dresser. If his closest friend is leaving there's only one other person he wants to see right now.]
Can I see you?
Yeah, of course. What's up?
[The mood is hard to read through text, and their relationship remains on uncertain ground. Maybe Oliver is just feeling frisky, but maybe he wants to talk - about them, or about something else that's bothering him? Connor can't be sure, but he braces himself for all possibilities.]
[The mood is hard to read through text, and their relationship remains on uncertain ground. Maybe Oliver is just feeling frisky, but maybe he wants to talk - about them, or about something else that's bothering him? Connor can't be sure, but he braces himself for all possibilities.]
[He hesitates a little before admitting why he wants to. Things still aren't perfect between them and he doesn't want to upset Connor by making him think he's just a stand in for someone else. Nothing could be less true, but they're on such shaky grounds he worries about making things worse constantly.]
Mettaton's transferring.
Which is fine. I just want to be around someone.
Mettaton's transferring.
Which is fine. I just want to be around someone.
[There's a pause before he replies. He doesn't know exactly what to say. He doesn't want to sound too needy, but he doesn't want to sound stand off-ish either. When he does reply he still isn't entirely satisfied with his response, but it will have to do.]
Thank you. I'll leave the door unlocked.
Thank you. I'll leave the door unlocked.
[Oliver's occupying his time by packing away his pet project. He offers Connor a soft smile as he puts the last few parts of the robot into a box. A microphone remains on the dresser, Mettaton's fancy signature adorning the handle, because of course he signed his own going away gift.]
Hey. How are you?
Hey. How are you?
[He shrugs his shoulders lightly, deflecting the question because it is habit and because Oliver's feelings matter more at present. His hands burrow down into the pockets of his jeans until he is sure the other man welcomes his touch.]
Same as I always am. What about you?
[And he nods to the box that Oliver has just finished packing.]
Got a new nerd toy to play with?
Same as I always am. What about you?
[And he nods to the box that Oliver has just finished packing.]
Got a new nerd toy to play with?
It's a robot, jerk.
[Robots are far too cool to be reduced to being just a nerd toy. It does make him laugh though. He stands when everything is away to approach him. It's clear that Connor's letting him take the lead here. He closes the gap between them to kiss his cheek, reaching down to tug his hand from his pocket and entwine their fingers.]
Thank you for coming.
[Robots are far too cool to be reduced to being just a nerd toy. It does make him laugh though. He stands when everything is away to approach him. It's clear that Connor's letting him take the lead here. He closes the gap between them to kiss his cheek, reaching down to tug his hand from his pocket and entwine their fingers.]
Thank you for coming.
[He is grateful for Oliver's hand around his, and he gives it a gentle squeeze as he withdraws his other hand from his pocket to cup Oliver's cheek.]
What was I supposed to do, let you mope all alone? Uh-uh, not when I've got a perfectly good shoulder to cry on.
[While Connor is pained to see the man he loves having a rough time, he feels better about their relationship (in whatever state it may be right now) when he can return the care Oliver has given him, when he can be sturdy enough to lend support to him.]
What was I supposed to do, let you mope all alone? Uh-uh, not when I've got a perfectly good shoulder to cry on.
[While Connor is pained to see the man he loves having a rough time, he feels better about their relationship (in whatever state it may be right now) when he can return the care Oliver has given him, when he can be sturdy enough to lend support to him.]
I'm not going to cry.
[He did that part already. Despite the offence in his voice the evidence of that is in his red rimmed eyes.]
[He did that part already. Despite the offence in his voice the evidence of that is in his red rimmed eyes.]
[His lips curve into a smile that both teases and reassures as he lightly taps Oliver's cheek.]
But if you did want to cry...
[He lofts his eyebrows as if to reiterate that he will be available for this purpose. But he of all people can understand the desire not to linger in sadness but to distract oneself from it for as long as possible, and so his hand falls away from Oliver's cheek to rest on his shoulder instead.]
So what do you want to do? Whatever you want, and I can't say no.
But if you did want to cry...
[He lofts his eyebrows as if to reiterate that he will be available for this purpose. But he of all people can understand the desire not to linger in sadness but to distract oneself from it for as long as possible, and so his hand falls away from Oliver's cheek to rest on his shoulder instead.]
So what do you want to do? Whatever you want, and I can't say no.
[He half looks like he's about to need to take Connor up on that, but despite his watery smile no tears fall.]
Do you want to watch a movie?
[Something period and suitably tragic.]
Do you want to watch a movie?
[Something period and suitably tragic.]
A movie sounds great. Even if there's copious amounts of singing involved.
[And for all that he pokes fun at Oliver's cinematic tastes, he doesn't actually mind too much. Taking a small step back from Oliver, but never letting go of his hand, he tilts his head back to indicate the bed that occupies much of the cramped room.]
Shall we get comfortable?
[And for all that he pokes fun at Oliver's cinematic tastes, he doesn't actually mind too much. Taking a small step back from Oliver, but never letting go of his hand, he tilts his head back to indicate the bed that occupies much of the cramped room.]
Shall we get comfortable?
I'm not putting on a musical.
[He sounds offended, but the real reason for that is mostly because it's hard to distract yourself from missing a fan of musicals when you're watching a musical.
He tugs at Connor's hand, loosing it only because it makes climbing on the bed easier.]
[He sounds offended, but the real reason for that is mostly because it's hard to distract yourself from missing a fan of musicals when you're watching a musical.
He tugs at Connor's hand, loosing it only because it makes climbing on the bed easier.]
[He kicks off his shoes and settles in next to Oliver, stretched out on the bed and propped up on one elbow with his gaze hanging on the other man.]
Okay, no singing necessary.
[He pulls up the movie service on his magitek, and hologram images of different knock-off titles shimmer before them. His lips curl in a wry grin and he raises an eyebrow at Oliver, all in a bid to make him crack a smile.]
So I guess that's a "no" for Singing in the Storm and Specter of the Opera then.
Okay, no singing necessary.
[He pulls up the movie service on his magitek, and hologram images of different knock-off titles shimmer before them. His lips curl in a wry grin and he raises an eyebrow at Oliver, all in a bid to make him crack a smile.]
So I guess that's a "no" for Singing in the Storm and Specter of the Opera then.
Edited 2017-10-19 00:16 (UTC)
[Oliver hurriedly shakes his head at that.]
Singing in the Storm is actually scary. It's a totally different genre.
[Definitely not what he's in the mood for right now. It's probably one of the weirdest knock-offs he's seen here. He picks what looks like an Elizabethan drama with aliens, something he doesn't think is even a parody of anything.]
What about this? It says it's got subs.
Singing in the Storm is actually scary. It's a totally different genre.
[Definitely not what he's in the mood for right now. It's probably one of the weirdest knock-offs he's seen here. He picks what looks like an Elizabethan drama with aliens, something he doesn't think is even a parody of anything.]
What about this? It says it's got subs.
Edited 2017-10-20 11:37 (UTC)
[He glances over the thumbnail although he will ultimately agree to whatever Oliver chooses.]
A foreign film - how cultured of you.
[He starts up the movie, and it flickers to life in the space above them, angled so that they can view it comfortably from where they recline. Before he settles in, however, he looks to the man beside him.]
Want me to get the lights?
A foreign film - how cultured of you.
[He starts up the movie, and it flickers to life in the space above them, angled so that they can view it comfortably from where they recline. Before he settles in, however, he looks to the man beside him.]
Want me to get the lights?
Page 4 of 11