[ The little taste of Azem's job he'd gotten over the years was plenty. While he could, while he did travel the shards, taking note of what was found to later show Hythlodaeus and Azem, he was better utilized as Emet-Selch. He certainly didn't have the patience of Azem, nor the disposition required. ]
The star can keep itself together for an evening. [ He almost sounds like he believes it when he says that, even. The star survives each night that they rest, each night they don't spend feverishly searching for the next option. He does not imagine it would be any different if they choose to spend their evening not entirely asleep. Much as it pains him to admit one can, in fact, take time for leisurely activities, the distraction is not wholly unwelcome.
And Viktor is, undeniably, a distraction. Just as Emet-Selch starts to work the thought over in his mind - duty, responsibility, the weight shared but still immensely heavy - Viktor steals a kiss from him and Emet-Selch cannot let it go unanswered, unaddressed, hungry to see what other noises the two of them can wrest free from Viktor. ]
Don't coddle. [ Emet-Selch doesn't quite wither under the too-understanding gaze, but he does scowl, imposing were it not for the fact his lips keep rebelling, Viktor's easy laughter and levity and incredibly bad jokes not entirely ineffective. ] I'm not struggling. Struggling implies - I am not.
[ He is, in fact, struggling with the reality of the answer he doesn't give: he's startled by the depths of his want. At how much he could want, when he allowed himself even the vaguest consideration. He wants what he once considered impossible and in the form he'd imagined it, it was; that time is past. But the shape of this new want, how easy it is, will take some getting used to.
Emet-Selch nearly misses the question, focused on thoughtlessly stroking fingers where he'd dug in earlier, marveling at the fact that Viktor's touched him throughout this entire process and the little jumps of disgust, of guilt, have been so far to the back of mind as to nearly be forgotten. Being pedantic is undoubtedly easier than focusing on any of those revelations, and so Emet-Selch lifts both eyebrows and asks, ]
I don't know, hero, would it? I am, for most intents and purposes, yours to command as you see fit.
no subject
[ The little taste of Azem's job he'd gotten over the years was plenty. While he could, while he did travel the shards, taking note of what was found to later show Hythlodaeus and Azem, he was better utilized as Emet-Selch. He certainly didn't have the patience of Azem, nor the disposition required. ]
The star can keep itself together for an evening. [ He almost sounds like he believes it when he says that, even. The star survives each night that they rest, each night they don't spend feverishly searching for the next option. He does not imagine it would be any different if they choose to spend their evening not entirely asleep. Much as it pains him to admit one can, in fact, take time for leisurely activities, the distraction is not wholly unwelcome.
And Viktor is, undeniably, a distraction. Just as Emet-Selch starts to work the thought over in his mind - duty, responsibility, the weight shared but still immensely heavy - Viktor steals a kiss from him and Emet-Selch cannot let it go unanswered, unaddressed, hungry to see what other noises the two of them can wrest free from Viktor. ]
Don't coddle. [ Emet-Selch doesn't quite wither under the too-understanding gaze, but he does scowl, imposing were it not for the fact his lips keep rebelling, Viktor's easy laughter and levity and incredibly bad jokes not entirely ineffective. ] I'm not struggling. Struggling implies - I am not.
[ He is, in fact, struggling with the reality of the answer he doesn't give: he's startled by the depths of his want. At how much he could want, when he allowed himself even the vaguest consideration. He wants what he once considered impossible and in the form he'd imagined it, it was; that time is past. But the shape of this new want, how easy it is, will take some getting used to.
Emet-Selch nearly misses the question, focused on thoughtlessly stroking fingers where he'd dug in earlier, marveling at the fact that Viktor's touched him throughout this entire process and the little jumps of disgust, of guilt, have been so far to the back of mind as to nearly be forgotten. Being pedantic is undoubtedly easier than focusing on any of those revelations, and so Emet-Selch lifts both eyebrows and asks, ]
I don't know, hero, would it? I am, for most intents and purposes, yours to command as you see fit.