stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires
Rory was a rather finicky and flighty creature despite his seeming steadiness: animals he invited close to his body without second thought, humans.. well, that was a whole other story, and with many, many chapters. Taking a customer's measurements, helping someone who had fallen, all done with a sort of clinical briskness and oh-so-impersonal—and yet sometimes he leaned into practical strangers, his hands and their hands all over. And those he knew, those he was comfortable with, he treated like animals, not quite noticing when he touched them, or how close he stood, not realizing he put his hand on their hip or shoulder to gently move them out of his way.
But Remi.. Remi was dangerous to him, and while he was rather comfortable around the man (wanted him closer, even—) he was also
flighty
much too aware of his body and his movements and his presence, how he leaned a little closer: the slight movement like an electric jolt through Rory's bones, every nerve taut and buzzing as he slow-blinked to mask his reaction and steady his breathing. Remi's presence pressed up against his, Rory's instincts demanding he bend and break and move away even as some other, still primal part of him yelled more more more more more on repeat.
Addictive and poisonous and treacherous and thrilling and everything Rory ran from.
Yet he remained sitting where he was, as if he hadn't noticed, as if he hadn't subtly leaned a little closer, as if his body wasn't on fire and he was doing his best to put it out.
After a moment Rory heaved a small sigh—surprised by how steady it was—and laid down on his back, somehow finding space between Remi's hand and Bakshi's hooves. It wasn't exactly comfortable. Shifting slightly he pulled his legs up a little and bent his knees, then stared in silence at the uninteresting sky above them.
( I feel like Rory is one of the few who has mandate to say he treats people like animals and it's a good thing... )
But Remi.. Remi was dangerous to him, and while he was rather comfortable around the man (
flighty
much too aware of his body and his movements and his presence, how he leaned a little closer: the slight movement like an electric jolt through Rory's bones, every nerve taut and buzzing as he slow-blinked to mask his reaction and steady his breathing. Remi's presence pressed up against his, Rory's instincts demanding he bend and break and move away even as some other, still primal part of him yelled more more more more more on repeat.
Addictive and poisonous and treacherous and thrilling and everything Rory ran from.
Yet he remained sitting where he was, as if he hadn't noticed, as if he hadn't subtly leaned a little closer, as if his body wasn't on fire and he was doing his best to put it out.
After a moment Rory heaved a small sigh—surprised by how steady it was—and laid down on his back, somehow finding space between Remi's hand and Bakshi's hooves. It wasn't exactly comfortable. Shifting slightly he pulled his legs up a little and bent his knees, then stared in silence at the uninteresting sky above them.
( I feel like Rory is one of the few who has mandate to say he treats people like animals and it's a good thing... )
