Touching a fox was so much more innocent, not at all unlike petting his dogs, or charming the cats living in and around the Settlement. Even if he knew there was a human mind behind it, it didn't matter quite as much—it was like allowing Remi to perch on your arm, and he had known other Attuned who enjoyed a good, shifted scratch. Some had liked to wrestle in their animal forms, or race. Sometimes, with the larger shifts, they had taken bets on how long someone could hold on to them as they bucked around to their heart's content.
Touching a man was different.
But touch was what their friendship had been built upon, so it was what he'd turned to, but it was so much more complicated than that. It was smooth skin under his rough palm; it was his wild and fleeting pulse; it was.. it was everything he tried to stay away from.
He didn't know what it meant to Jigano. He didn't know what it meant for himself, either, the trembling in his veins and his hand upon warm human skin—that he still was touching Jigano, even after that initial shock.
That he was touching him again.
This time, as Jigano's eyes fluttered open, Rory forced his gaze to remain on his face. He didn't quite meet his eyes, but he was taking in the rest, feeling a little thrill of something travel from his hand up to his chest as Jigano's thumb stroked the back of his hand. Again, he wondered, what does it mean? Did they even know? His breath caught in his chest as Jigano began speaking, the voice and face so unfamiliar. But his eyes... They were the same blue of the fox that had helped him dig up Wessex's belongings, of the fox that had yowled along to a silly song about Queen Owlkitten.
Rory wanted, and want was not something he allowed himself, rarely examined; and so, he did not do that then. Instead, he shifted the gryphon into his lap, freeing up his other arm. He could've died, out there by the perch. He didn't care that Jigano had bitten him; it probably hadn't been a sane decision.
He could've died. Much as he refused to acknowledge how close to dying he had come, waking up in an Infirmary bed, with blisters and burns snaking up his neck and face, lent him some perspective. Or rather, a sense of recklessness.
He was alive.
It was okay to want.
He placed his freed hand on Jigano's other cheek, gently holding his face between his hands. "And why in Caido's name would I prefer that?" he breathed.
Touching a man was different.
But touch was what their friendship had been built upon, so it was what he'd turned to, but it was so much more complicated than that. It was smooth skin under his rough palm; it was his wild and fleeting pulse; it was.. it was everything he tried to stay away from.
He didn't know what it meant to Jigano. He didn't know what it meant for himself, either, the trembling in his veins and his hand upon warm human skin—that he still was touching Jigano, even after that initial shock.
That he was touching him again.
This time, as Jigano's eyes fluttered open, Rory forced his gaze to remain on his face. He didn't quite meet his eyes, but he was taking in the rest, feeling a little thrill of something travel from his hand up to his chest as Jigano's thumb stroked the back of his hand. Again, he wondered, what does it mean? Did they even know? His breath caught in his chest as Jigano began speaking, the voice and face so unfamiliar. But his eyes... They were the same blue of the fox that had helped him dig up Wessex's belongings, of the fox that had yowled along to a silly song about Queen Owlkitten.
Rory wanted, and want was not something he allowed himself, rarely examined; and so, he did not do that then. Instead, he shifted the gryphon into his lap, freeing up his other arm. He could've died, out there by the perch. He didn't care that Jigano had bitten him; it probably hadn't been a sane decision.
He could've died. Much as he refused to acknowledge how close to dying he had come, waking up in an Infirmary bed, with blisters and burns snaking up his neck and face, lent him some perspective. Or rather, a sense of recklessness.
He was alive.
It was okay to want.
He placed his freed hand on Jigano's other cheek, gently holding his face between his hands. "And why in Caido's name would I prefer that?" he breathed.
