Connor Murphy (
yourattention) wrote2021-04-09 04:11 pm
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[noctium] ic inbox

RESIDENCE ✦ Jackdaw Ranch
GEMBOND ✦ Sapphire
Dear Evan Hansen, we've been way too out of touch.
Things have been crazy and it sucks that we don't talk that much.
INFO ✧ PERMISSIONS ✧ KINKLIST
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Ah.]
do you wanna come over or should i just send you cute pictures of ginger and puff
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just seemed right
guess maybe because we spent the least amount of time here
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i mean you could also come over here and ill make you cookies but if you dont want to get up im not about to make you lying on the kitchen floor is probs healthier than what i did
[Which was, for the record, sail off the edge of the map four times trying to exit reality.]
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im not going anywhere right now though
i dont think i have it in me to go apeshit bananas right now anyway
[The messages come through with a tentative pace that is unlike the way he usually slams out responses, as if he's writing and backspacing his messages.
He's not sure why he feels guilty asking for company, but he does.]
>> action
[Then, more like seven minutes later, Connor comes waltzing into Dave's apartment with a bag full of shit. Does he have a key? Did he pick the lock? Unclear, because it's Connor. He sets the bag down on the counter.]
Hey. Move away from the oven, schnickelfritz.
[Not that it'll actually matter to Dave that Connor turns the oven on to preheat. He's a ruby. The heat doesn't matter to him. Without pause, Connor pulls a bowl out of the bag and dumps the contents of a mason jar into it. Then he dumps the contents of a smaller mason jar in and starts stirring.
Sometimes, because of weird personal reasons, you just keep cookie mix at hand.]
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He scoots out of the way but he doesn't get up off the floor, he slouches back against cupboard and watches Connor from down there.
It doesn't look like he's been crying, he's gone the opposite way and just absolutely shut all of that emotional shit down. He tucks his knees up and wraps his arms lightly around them.]
You ever see this happen before? Someone being here one day and they're gone the next?
[He pointedly doesn't ask if it's happened to you because he doesn't want to torture Connor with personal questions. He's just terribly confused.]
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None of that is especially comforting, so Connor falls back on the one thing he knows:]
That's how the story's written. [Is. Is that comforting to other people?] People come, people go. You'll see him again.
[Not here, maybe. Eventually, though.]
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His expression is kind of distant as he considers it, then he shrugs.]
Maybe. Maybe I'll be here forever. Maybe I won't get back before he gets old and dies.
[That old "I'm immortal and my time with my partner is finite because he's not" chestnut is one he thinks about a lot and even more so when he's not with him.]
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[Why does he also have a baking sheet? How much stuff is in this bag? Don't worry about it! There's also a silicone baking mat in there that he sets into the baking sheet before he starts portioning out cookie dough.]
Or, I guess... it didn't make me feel any better.
[It's entirely possible that he should have, at any point in time, explained the gap in the story that he's simply skipped over every time he talks to Dave. But he didn't and he doesn't want to explain that "home" and "where he's from" are two different places. The story is different now. It doesn't matter where he came from, only where he is.]
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He pulls himself up so he can lean on the counter while Connor goes about his business. Wordlessly he reaches out and takes a portion of the cookie dough, eating it and continuing to talk like he's done nothing wrong.]
Maybe it's for the best. [He doesn't sound like he really believes it, but..]
I don't think he really liked it here, anyway. It was a lot of bullshit we never really planned for because, like, how do you plan for this?
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[Unclear what that means, actually, and because it's Connor he is simply just not gonna fucking explain. Dave can guide what's going on right now, because Connor drew an awfully clear line when they were tethered together, but everything's shifted enough that he's fine blurring it again if that's what Dave wants. What Dave needs.]
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But he wants better for Connor, too. Better than being a rebound fuck. He means way too much for Dave to go down that road.
So he licks his lips, hesitating for a moment before he just barely withdraws and looks down and away.]
You could punish me by making me watch another shitty teen musical.
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[He doesn't specify what. They'll cross that bridge when they get there, which in this case definitely fucking means "whenever he decides what's happening." It's hard to use the things he knows from being on the other side on Dave because when people punish Connor it's almost entirely sexual. They're not watching a musical, though. That's not a punishment as far as he's concerned. It's just comforting! Like Dave's sitcoms.
Connor turns his attention back to portioning cookie dough.]
How do you feel about push-ups?
i rolled a 14 so he can do it but he's not happy about it
I feel terrible about push ups, but if it gets you off..
[He trails off as he pushes his sleeves up, seeming to realise at some point that he shouldn't have finished that sentence there.]
Off my back, I mean.
[And without further comment, he is crouching down to the ground in the limited space available in the kitchen. He successfully knocks out the first six quickly but the next ones are coming slower]
--Fuck, this is way harder than it looks.
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[Said in the same flat tone he says everything, but it's probably clear it's a joke to Dave. Absently, when Dave starts to struggle, Connor glances over and momentarily frowns.]
Switch to kneeling. I'm not trying to kill you. I'm trying to get you to feel something other than fucked up and sad.
[At least he's honest about his intentions?]
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He very pointedly ignores the out and, in fact, it coupled with the reasoning is the bitter, stubborn drive he needs to push through the last four before he flops to the ground and rolls to the side so he can look up at Connor from the floor.]
I feel less sad but I feel-- fuck, phew-- I feel more fucked up. Worth it.
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You still have five from stealing the cookie dough.
[His voice has taken on the slight edge again, because well. Apparently that's where they're at right now? They're back at weird, platonic domming and at least that's, like, something he knows. That's easy to fall back on. Connor turns, opening the oven and shoving the baking sheet in there before shutting it again.]
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He pulls himself off the floor so he can lean his hands on the counter and frown at Connor defiantly.]
You said ten. Not ten more. No dice.
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[Connor steps into Dave's space, hand settling on his hip. Despite being an entire inch shorter, Connor has presence when he chooses to and he's currently choosing to. Leaning forward, lips at Dave's ear, Connor says:]
You want to be good for me, don't you?
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[Because it's one of the first things Connor ever said to him.
He knows he's being absolutely fucked with at this very moment, but it doesn't make the way he feels about it any less real. His breath still catches, the hairs on the back of his neck still prickle and he feels a pleasant peak in his feelings before his heart sinks and his stomach drops and he loses the good vibes almost instantly.
It's a visible shift in his face, the way he almost leans in and then shies away. He doesn't want to be cold, but it is standoffish when he leans his head back from his ear.]
Ceej..
[He starts. He wishes he didn't start. Should've just done the push ups.]
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[Connor's aware that it's probably better if he gives Dave an actual word for this shit, but it's not really like that between them. There's never anything that Connor wouldn't simply stop if Dave said so. On this end of it, he doesn't fuck around like that.]
So say no, or do another five.
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But he can't form the words because he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to say no. He wants to stop thinking and stop feeling shit and Connor has offered that. He'll probably regret it, he'll definitely regret it.
He presses a warm palm to his chest like he's going to push him down, cocking his head defiantly at him.]
No.
[He says, but he leans in the short distance between them to gently press their lips together.]
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Maybe. Here's hoping, anyway, because he still feels vaguely responsible for Dave in a way that's... it's whatever. He'll deal with that when he gets there, if he gets there.
Right now, he's pinning Dave to the counter and, maybe for the first time, it's clear that he's much stronger. It's the solidness of someone who's used to being physical, who can lift heavy objects without much thought. When he breaks the kiss, it's to say:]
I still make the rules here, Dave. Just because you can say no doesn't mean you can misbehave.
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At least physically. Mentally, Dave's lost in a sauce of sad escapism and complicated attraction and a dangerous curiosity. A soft hum escapes him and he immediately feels guilty about how much he obviously enjoys it.
Connor breaks the kiss and Dave looks down and away again, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth before he breathes out a sigh and looks up at Connor.]
I can't. [His hand tightens on Connor's shirt, then loosens.]
I can't do this. I don't want to do this to you.
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cw: suicide mention
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tw; abuse
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cw: suicide mention