It was, he realized, the closest they had been to each other in such circumstances. Jigano carrying a half-dead Rory through Long Night definitely did not count, and there was that time they had laid next to each other in the Oasis, but Amalia had been with them then, so that didn't count, either.
But this, though... Not only the way their fingers entwined, but Rory's shameless leaning, experimentally settling against the contours of Jigano's side. It crackled like static underneath his skin, all the pleasant elements of the hunt without the neurotic fretting: does he like me?
Duh. He did. And that left all of this to merely savor, content and secure in the knowledge that it was wanted.
And oh, how easy it would be to tilt his head a little, to make Jigano's lips wander over his cheek—
If only he had had a little more alcohol and daring in his veins.
There were shivers going down his spine in perfect sync with the crackle in his skin, and in the moment he found himself wishing that it was just the pair of them and nothing else around, no prying eyes, nothing to get in the way—
Isuma reeped a distinct gryphon hello, and next to him, he felt Jigano freeze. Regret and disappointment flooded his body, dark and gritty, ruthlessly pulling him back from whatever fantasies his pounding heart had been about to conjure. He blinked his blue eyes, swiveling his gaze to see—oh. You-should-have-left-me-to-die-lady, with her sharp eyes and sharp tongue, lashing his bruised skin as he fled in confusion and shame. Rory, cheek still on Jigano's shoulder, felt himself tense though his partner had relaxed, evidently happy to see the woman.
Happy greetings were exchanged, but Rory remained silent and shadowed, wary, his pulse uncomfortable in his veins. Was this when she said something snide? Leveled cold, icy eyes on him? Ignored him entirely, like so much air?
They regarded each other for a moment, then she gave him the same greeting. Confusion warred with his desire to relax. Still subdued, he raised his head from Jigano's shoulder. "Happy Fiat Lux to you too, Rexanna," he responded, his voice even; not exuberant, but not hostile. Just cautious. Guarded. He didn't know where he stood, and he didn't know how much he wanted to apologize, and it made him a wary creature.
He watched as Rexanna unfolded a banner, wondering about the glance she had given Jigano before doing it. A rainbow gryphon pranced on it. It was, indeed, very vibrant.
Then her gaze pinned him again, and he was abruptly reminded of wolves: smiling with all their knife-teeth, yet capable of the same goofy grins as any dog. He felt measured. Weighed. Observed in a way that was likely born of the memory of her cutting words and the lofty demeanor she had adopted when speaking them.
He was surprised to hear that she had made him a banner, less surprised to hear of Jigano and Isuma's involvement. Surprised, too, by her .. offer? Statement? Question? Olive branch? His eyebrows rose and he blinked. He wasn't used to.. any of this, honestly. "Uh, sure?" he ended up saying, a bit gracelessly, but mostly just confused.
She unfolded another vibrant banner, precious already for having been made for him (unless she'd imbued it with poison, in which case, fuck her and hopefully someone would avenge him): a fanciful pony, with rainbows for hair, cantering across the cloth.
Rory was not used to people going from chewing him out to asking for his friendship and then giving him very nice gifts. He wasn't used to anyone at all going out of their way to make him anything these days. He had willingly isolated himself and now that he was thrust back into being social, it felt like a limb thawing after frost: painful and itchy and uncomfortable.
"Thank you," he said quietly, wondering if his lack of excitement was disappointing. If anything, he just looked thoughtful, perplexed, because everything else that he was feeling his face and body didn't know how to express in that moment. "It is very nice."
But this, though... Not only the way their fingers entwined, but Rory's shameless leaning, experimentally settling against the contours of Jigano's side. It crackled like static underneath his skin, all the pleasant elements of the hunt without the neurotic fretting: does he like me?
Duh. He did. And that left all of this to merely savor, content and secure in the knowledge that it was wanted.
And oh, how easy it would be to tilt his head a little, to make Jigano's lips wander over his cheek—
If only he had had a little more alcohol and daring in his veins.
There were shivers going down his spine in perfect sync with the crackle in his skin, and in the moment he found himself wishing that it was just the pair of them and nothing else around, no prying eyes, nothing to get in the way—
Isuma reeped a distinct gryphon hello, and next to him, he felt Jigano freeze. Regret and disappointment flooded his body, dark and gritty, ruthlessly pulling him back from whatever fantasies his pounding heart had been about to conjure. He blinked his blue eyes, swiveling his gaze to see—oh. You-should-have-left-me-to-die-lady, with her sharp eyes and sharp tongue, lashing his bruised skin as he fled in confusion and shame. Rory, cheek still on Jigano's shoulder, felt himself tense though his partner had relaxed, evidently happy to see the woman.
Happy greetings were exchanged, but Rory remained silent and shadowed, wary, his pulse uncomfortable in his veins. Was this when she said something snide? Leveled cold, icy eyes on him? Ignored him entirely, like so much air?
They regarded each other for a moment, then she gave him the same greeting. Confusion warred with his desire to relax. Still subdued, he raised his head from Jigano's shoulder. "Happy Fiat Lux to you too, Rexanna," he responded, his voice even; not exuberant, but not hostile. Just cautious. Guarded. He didn't know where he stood, and he didn't know how much he wanted to apologize, and it made him a wary creature.
He watched as Rexanna unfolded a banner, wondering about the glance she had given Jigano before doing it. A rainbow gryphon pranced on it. It was, indeed, very vibrant.
Then her gaze pinned him again, and he was abruptly reminded of wolves: smiling with all their knife-teeth, yet capable of the same goofy grins as any dog. He felt measured. Weighed. Observed in a way that was likely born of the memory of her cutting words and the lofty demeanor she had adopted when speaking them.
He was surprised to hear that she had made him a banner, less surprised to hear of Jigano and Isuma's involvement. Surprised, too, by her .. offer? Statement? Question? Olive branch? His eyebrows rose and he blinked. He wasn't used to.. any of this, honestly. "Uh, sure?" he ended up saying, a bit gracelessly, but mostly just confused.
She unfolded another vibrant banner, precious already for having been made for him (unless she'd imbued it with poison, in which case, fuck her and hopefully someone would avenge him): a fanciful pony, with rainbows for hair, cantering across the cloth.
Rory was not used to people going from chewing him out to asking for his friendship and then giving him very nice gifts. He wasn't used to anyone at all going out of their way to make him anything these days. He had willingly isolated himself and now that he was thrust back into being social, it felt like a limb thawing after frost: painful and itchy and uncomfortable.
"Thank you," he said quietly, wondering if his lack of excitement was disappointing. If anything, he just looked thoughtful, perplexed, because everything else that he was feeling his face and body didn't know how to express in that moment. "It is very nice."
