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Atalanta Pendragonne (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} atalantapendrag) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/community.gif){kind=small} st_stolen_time,@ 2007-08-17 12:52:00 |
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Stolen Time #194: The Very Fastest
Teatime and Nny go to get new brooms.
Teatime: It's early. Teatime's in the living-room, furniture pushed to the walls, naked apart from a pair of longish boxers; he's mid-way through a set of press-ups, humming under his breath.
Nny: Nny's morning has been frustrating. He'd been trying to paint, but it's a blocked day, as many of them are, and nothing is coming out right. He storms out of the tent, brooding, and flops onto the couch with a cold soda, hoping that watching Teatime will make him feel better.
Teatime: "Hi!" Teatime says, peering over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Nny: A weak attempt at a smile. "I couldn't paint."
Teatime: "Oh." Apparently completing his set, Teatime pushes himself up and kicks from the floor until he's standing on his hands. He begins moving his legs as if he's on some odd, upside-down bicycle. "Do you know why?"
Nny: He has to bite back an angry, self-deprecating retort. "Some days I really can't."
Teatime: A few moments; then Teatime jumps, landing easily on his feet, and comes to sit by Nny. "I suppose you should just wait til tomorrow, then." He smiles. "Then you'll be able to."
Nny: That -does- make Nny smile; Teatime's optimism is reassuring. "Maybe. Were you having fun?"
Teatime: He shrugs. "Just exercising, really."
Nny: "It's nice, seeing you like that. You look good."
Teatime: "Do I?" Teatime asks idly, then says, "I suppose I don't entirely -need- to, here. Because of magic and guns and so on. But I'd rather do things properly."
Nny: "If it means I can watch you move like that, then it's a very good thing."
Teatime: A laugh. "Well. I'm glad you approve."
Nny: "It's nice to watch. Especially when you're dressed like that."
Teatime: "... but I'm not dressed."
Nny: "My point exactly."
Teatime: "Oh. -Oh-," Teatime says, and then laughs again.
Nny: Snickering, Nny kisses Teatime's cheek lightly. "I like watching you."
Teatime: "I like doing it. So I suppose that's good for both of us, then."
Nny: "Are you thirsty?" Nny holds out his soda.
Teatime: "Mm. A little." Teatime takes the can for a quick sip. "Do you feel alright? I know," he says, with a hint of pride, "that not being able to paint makes you feel sad."
Nny: "It does. Or something like that. But it's better when you're here, so I'm not alone with it."
Teatime: Teatime, for whatever reason, suddenly pictures Nny-feeling-sad as an odd, blob-like ball that both of them have to carry to a window and throw into the street. "We don't have any windows," he tells Nny. "Do you think doing something fun would help?"
Nny: The mention of windows is a bit strange; he gives Teatime a baffled glance. "Would help us have a window?"
Teatime: "Oh - I'd just forgotten, really. I got used to not having windows after a little while... do you miss them?"
Nny: "Not as much as I would have thought I would. If I want to see the stars at night, flying up on my broom is better than any window."
Teatime: Teatime laughs. "I barely ever used doors to get in and out of buildings, before I came here. It was a little odd at first." He cocks his head. "We didn't get me a new broom, did we?"
Nny: "...I don't think so? I guess you didn't go get one on your own, then."
Teatime: He shakes his head.
Nny: "We need to get you one, then. You should have one."
Teatime: "I agree. I think I'll need to shower first, though. And get dressed."
Nny: "Yeah. I don't want other people seeing you in your underwear."
Teatime: Teatime smiles and gets up, heading towards the largest bathroom. "Because they aren't allowed."
Nny: "Not allowed to look at you."
Teatime: "Well. I don't think we can prevent them from looking at me. Particularly if I ask one of them something."
Nny: "I meant, looking at you when you're like this. That's just for me."
Teatime: "Oh. Well, yes, -that's- only for you." He stops, looking at Nny with his head cocked to one side. "Are you... coming with me?" The question is slightly odd, perhaps because of the fight from the previous night.
Nny: "Do... do you -want- me to?"
Teatime: "Well... yes. Unless you'd prefer..."
Nny: "I want to. Maybe..." Nny pauses to think of something Teatime might like. "Maybe we can get ice cream, too."
Teatime: A smile. "Alright." He heads towards the bathroom once more, then stops again, just for a split second and without turning around. Normally he'd assume that Nny would accompany him into the shower, but he's not sure now, in light of this near-awkwardness. Had he changed the rules, somehow?
Nny: "...what?" Nny's not used to Teatime hesitating. It makes everything seem off-balance, somehow.
Teatime: "I'm going to go and shower now," he says.
Nny: "Do you want me to...?" Nny's all too mindful of their argument to take anything for granted, either, although he's paint-spattered and could certainly use a shower as well.
Teatime: Teatime turns around properly this time. "I would. Like that, I mean."
Nny: Relief plainly visible on his face, Nny pulls off his stained tshirt, following Teatime towards the bathroom.
Teatime: There's something like relief on Teatime's cheerful face, too; he twines a few of his fingers around Nny's. "Arguments are odd," he says.
Nny: "I don't like arguing with you." He squeezes Teatime's hand.
Teatime: "Neither do I. We shouldn't do it again."
Nny: "I don't -want- to." He pulls Teatime close and hugs him tightly.
Teatime: Nuzzling Nny's neck, Tetaime nods. "So let's not."
Nny: Of course, Nny knows Teatime well enough by now to suspect that means 'do what I say next time', so he strokes Teatime's hair instead of flat-out agreeing.
Teatime: "But we're still friends."
Nny: "-Always-. I'm not letting you go. I thought you knew that." He kisses Teatime's cheek.
Teatime: "Good." Teatime straightens up a little. "So. Shall we shower?"
Nny: "Yeah. You're all sweaty," Nny says with mock-disgust.
Teatime: "Well, I was -exercising-."
Nny: "I noticed. I was watching."
Teatime: Teatime smiles. "Well, let's go, then." He tugs on Nny's hand, pulling him into the bathroom.
Nny: Nny presses against Teatime as they walk, soothed by his nearness. "We can get you a really -nice- broom."
Teatime: "A fast one."
Nny: "But it should be sturdy enough for us to ride double on it."
Teatime: "Of course."
Nny: "We can test it out after, if you want."
Teatime: "I'd like that." In the bathroom now, Teatime pulls of his boxers and moves to turn on the shower.
Nny: Peeling off his ratty sweatpants, Nny steps into the shower. "C'mon, I'll wash your back."
Teatime: "Alright." He cups his hands under the water and scrubs his face, then stretches, enjoying the feel of the water running down him.
Nny: And it is nice, being in the shower with Teatime, the feeling of their routines reasserting themselves. Things going back to normal, or at least their 'normal'.
Teatime: Teatime leans back against Nny, smiling. "So. Ice-cream and broomsticks. And flying. Anything else?"
Nny: "We could go get some more knives? I think we left some behind..."
Teatime: "Oh, yes. That -is- a good idea."
Nny: "We can go to the restaurant supply place. They have a lot of knives."
Teatime: He nods, reaching for the soap."That -does- sound like a nice day."
Nny: "Do you..." Nny pauses, biting his lip. "Do you feel better?"
Teatime: Teatime pauses to think. "... mostly, I think. I suppose it depends what you mean. Do -you- feel better?" he demands suddenly. "You weren't very happy yesterday either."
Nny: "No, I wasn't, I..." A long, slow breath. "I -worry- about you. You know I do."
Teatime: He blinks, misunderstanding. "But I was fine. None of our clients even put up a struggle."
Nny: "I don't mean that. You know I don't."
Teatime: "... because I was upset?"
Nny: "Because of that. Yeah."
Teatime: "And... that's why you weren't happy?" This seems to be what Nny is driving at, though Teatime had assumed that Nny was upset because he didn't like him killing children.
Nny: "Well. -A- reason. I don't like seeing you upset like you were last night, I don't like that you can still be upset because of -them-..."
Teatime: "Well. I'm better now, I suppose." He's obviously not quite sure what he's supposed to do or say at this point; he looks at Nny uncertainly.
Nny: "I'll take care of you. I'll -make- you be better." Abruptly, Nny spins Teatime around and starts scrubbing his back.
Teatime: Taken by surprise (and how many people can do -that-?) Teatime half laughs. "I thought I was going to make you better," he says, softly.
Nny: "We're supposed to make each other better, I think. That's how it works."
Teatime: "Does that mean you should have a --" Teatime remembers the term from last night "-- therapist, too?"
Nny: Nny's startled into laughter. "I don't think that'd do me any good. I've seen a couple in the past, but..."
Teatime: "What are they? What do they do?" He recalls Nny saying that they spoke to you, but... well, don't quite a -few- people do that, on a day-to-day basis?
Nny: "Um. They listen to you talk about your problems, and suggest things to to to make you feel better."
Teatime: "... the way -we- do?"
Nny: "Probably not the way we do. But maybe that's good. A, um, different perspective."
Teatime: "But I -like- our perspective."
Nny: "So do I." He pauses in his ferocious scrubbing to caress Teatime's shoulder. "But someone else may have ideas I couldn't. That could help."
Teatime: "I just need to stop being so silly, really. It was quite some time ago."
Nny: "You're not silly."
Teatime: "I -can- be."
Nny: "Well, yeah. And you're usually very cute when you are. But you aren't silly when you're unhappy about this."
Teatime: "You don't think it's silly to be irrationally preoccupied with something that happened when I was much younger?"
Nny: "Not if you're only just realizing what -really- happened." Wrapping his arms around Teatime's waist, Nny rests his chin on his shoulder. "I love you."
Teatime: "I love you, too." He turns his head to kiss Nny's cheek. "Why didn't you like having a therapist?"
Nny: "They didn't have anything new to say to me. But it wasn't that bad. After all, if they pissed me off, I'd just..."
Teatime: Teatime nods; he supposes there's always that. "And you just... say things at them?"
Nny: "Yeah. About why you're upset."
Teatime: "What if I'm not upset when I talk to them?"
Nny: "You tell them about what you're upset about when you -are- upset."
Teatime: "Oh. What did you talk about?"
Nny: "About. Um. Being depressed, hating people, not sleeping, that stuff."
Teatime: Teatime stretches his arms behind him, wrapping them about Nny's waist. Thoughtfully, he says, "And I'd talk about... I don't think there are a lot of things I -would- talk about, really."
Nny: "I just want them. The Guild. To not be able to hurt you anymore. To not be able to keep you from doing things anymore."
Teatime: "I do anything I like, now. You know that."
Nny: "But some things still make you upset. Make you tense. There are still things you think you aren't supposed to do."
Teatime: Slowly, Teatime realises what they're talking about. "... that's different."
Nny: "How is it different?"
Teatime: "I explained. The other day."
Nny: "But that's what they -wanted- you to think." Nny sighs. "I'm... I'm -not- good at making things better."
Teatime: Teatime turns around to face Nny. "I think you make everything better," he says, and kisses him softly.
Nny: "I want to."
Teatime: "And you do. So it fits perfectly."
Nny: "Do you believe me, then?"
Teatime: "What about?"
Nny: "That they were lying to you. About... that. Just trying to control you. Messing with your head."
Teatime: Teatime shakes his head, touches Nny's face. "That's... it's just different, Nny. Perhaps I haven't explained it very well."
Nny: "I don't think -I've- explained it well. But that might be what a therapist could do."
Teatime: Frowning a little, Teatime shrugs. "If that's all it is, I'm not sure it's such a problem... but if you like. If you want me to, we can... find one of those."
Nny: "I just don't like that we killed them and they can still make you -hurt-, can still get -between- us."
Teatime: "You think they're between us?"
Nny: "Well, there isn't a whole lot we disagree on, is there?"
Teatime: "Not particularly..."
Nny: "See? It's -their- fault."
Teatime: "We disagree about killing children," Teatime recalls suddenly.
Nny: A slow nod. "I still think that's their fault too."
Teatime: "... why?"
Nny: "Because they..." Nny sighs. The only things he can think of to say to clarify it would probably just upset Teatime again. "Because they taught you."
Teatime: "I don't really think I follow that, Nny."
Nny: "Well, they taught you that it's okay. To hurt kids. They taught you that by the way they treated -you-."
Teatime: Teatime shakes his head. "I don't think that's... I just enjoy my work. I enjoy being thorough."
Nny: Unwilling to get into another argument, Nny just kisses Teatime's cheek. "The enjoying part is good."
Teatime: "Yes." He leans against Nny. "... where would we find one, then?"
Nny: "I... I'm not sure. Maybe a phone book?"
Teatime: "Perhaps." Teatime's used a phone book a few times now; he has a better idea of how they work. "Can't we go shopping for one?"
Nny: "...I don't think you can buy a therapist at a mall."
Teatime: "We bought a house elf."
Nny: "Yeah, but a therapist is more like a hairdresser or something."
Teatime: "Surely we'd find a... therapist shop, then? Somewhere?"
Nny: "They have offices. Like doctors."
Teatime: "Oh. Well, phonebook it is, then." He cocks his head at Nny. "Do you want me to wash you?"
Nny: "I like it when you wash me."
Teatime: Teatime smiles, taking the soap; he begins to lather Nny up, washing him briskly and efficiently.
Nny: Half-closing his eyes, Nny leans into Teatime's touch with a pleased sigh.
Teatime: "I'm sorry if I upset you last night," Teatime murmurs - a rare thing for him to say.
Nny: The uncharacteristic nature of the apology isn't lost on Nny, either. "I... I know you wouldn't upset me on purpose."
Teatime: "Good." He puts the soap down. "I think we're washed now."
Nny: "Broom first, or ice cream first?"
Teatime: "Broom."
Nny: "Let's get dressed, then."
Teatime: Shutting off the water, Teatime pulls Nny out with him, grabbing a towel to quickly dry them both down.
Nny: Nny interrupts the drying by pulling Teatime close and kissing him. "You -know- I love you, yeah?"
Teatime: "Mm. Yes." He strokes the small of Nny's back. "Of course I do," he adds, then presses into another kiss.
Nny: "I thought I should remind you." He savors the feeling of Teatime's closeness, the taste of his lips, for a moment before sighing with faint regret. "But we need to get dressed and go out to get you a broom."
Teatime: "Alright." Teatime looks a little conflicted about stepping away, too, but he finishes drying himself and head towards the bedroom for clothes.
Nny: As long as it's fairly clean and not in complete tatters, Nny's not all that particular about what he wears; it only takes a minute or so for him to pull on a tshirt and jeans.
Teatime: Teatime is a little pickier, though he enjoys not having to pay attention to fashions in the way that the Guild had insisted on; he dresses in a black shirt and trousers, stretching happily. As always, he feels better after strenous activity, and the exercises he'd been working on had helped to stretch a few muscles he'd been neglecting.
Nny: Nny takes advantage of his comparative haste to watch Teatime dress, as always admiring the elegant grace of his movements. "What kind of broom do you think you'll get?"
Teatime: "A fast one. The fastest they have."
Nny: "I can't wait to see you, fliying fast and laughing, with the wind messing up your hair."
Teatime: "It'll be fun," Teatime agrees, grinning broadly.
Nny: "You make a lot of things fun."
Teatime: "I'm glad you think so. I'm glad we're still friends."
Nny: "...did you think we wouldn't be?"
Teatime: "I don't know. Perhaps. I'm still glad, though."
Nny: "I'm never going to give you up. Never going to let you go. I thought you knew that."
Teatime: "Yes. Well. We -won't- fight again, will we, Nny? So it'll be alright."
Nny: "I don't want to. I didn't like that."
Teatime: "Then we won't."
Nny: Smiling, Nny bounds forward and hugs Teatime. He's not as confident that they'll never argue again, but Teatime's conviction is comforting.
Teatime: "Because it's silly to do things we don't like," he clarifies, snuggling into the hug. "Now. Are we ready?"
Nny: "Yeah." He kisses Teatime's cheek.
Teatime: Teatime apparates them back to the huge flying emporium they'd purchased his last broom from; remembering Nny's reaction to the place, he takes his hand and holds it tightly. "Is there anything -you'd- like?"
Nny: "I already -have- a broom," Nny tells him, looking around with a rather trapped exoression.
Teatime: "Well, they aren't just selling those," Teatime points out: there's sports equipment, Quidditch paraphernalia, clothes...
Nny: The overall atmosphere is similar to a sporting goods store, and Nny winces.
Teatime: Teatime notices, and turns his head curiously to Nny. "Are you alright?"
Nny: "I'll. I'll be okay."
Teatime: "Do you... not want to be here?"
Nny: "This is where you get your broom."
Teatime: He looks at Nny for a moment longer, then nods. "Yes. We'll find someone and get the fastest model, and then we'll go and eat ice-cream. You'll like that, Nny, won't you? And then I'll fly you up over the desert."
Nny: "Yeah." He gives Teatime a brief, hard hug. "I will."
Teatime: Teatime wraps an arm about Nny's shoulders and holds him close as he locates the nearest shop assistant. "Hi!"
Nny: Teatime's usual cheerful demeanor is like an anchor for Nny. Teatime's here, he's happy, everything else can be dealt with.
The shop assistant looks at them, twisting her blonde hair in her fingers. "Yeah?" she drawls. "Can I -help- you?"
Nny: "We need a -broom-," Nny snaps at her irritably.
"A -broom-? Like, what kind?"
Teatime: Teatime grins at her. "The very fastest you have, please."
Nny: Nny leans against Teatime, glowering at the saleslady. Soon, he reminds himself. They'll be finished here soon.
The assistant looks doubtful. "Like, can you be a bit more specific? We sell a lotta fast brooms, y'know? You want a fast racing broom, or a travelling broom, or a Quidditch broom, or...?"
Nny: "What's -fastest-?" Nny grits out.
"Depends on what you -want-," the girl repeats, looking bored and irritated.
Nny: He's starting to growl low in his throat; if she's not going to be -helpful-...
Teatime: "As I've said, we want whatever's fastest," Teatime says. "It needs to be able to seat two - or, well, myself and Nny. That might count as one and a half, he's very light."
Nny: He has to laugh softly at that; surely he's not so light to be a half? But Teatime's light too.
"Well, that's a -bit- work with," the girl says; she turns on her heel, beckoning for them to follow up her up a set of stairs.
Nny: Nny's scowling as they trail along behind her; he keeps reminding himself that this is for Teatime, it'll make him happy.
"Racing brooms are probably the kind you want," the girl says in a bored voice as they follow. "They're not so great for doing tricks or going long distance, but they've got the speed..."
Nny: "Tricks like what?"
"Sharp turns, feints, that kinda shi- stuff."
Nny: Nny turns to Teatime; sharp turns are fun, but speed is what he said he wanted.
Teatime: "Can racing brooms do loops?" Teatime wants to know.
"Not great ones. They're, like, designed to get to one point fastest? You probably want a top-range Quidditch broom."
Nny: "I know you like being nimble in general," he say softly to Teatime.
Teatime: "Nimble's a good word," Teatime agrees.
Nny: "You're good at nimble."
"The Nimbus range isn't the best," says the assistant, mis-hearing them. "There's the Nimbus Pro, but that's pretty pricey..."
Nny: The interruption makes Nny glare. "Pricey doesn't matter."
"You sure? It really -does- mean pro - this is what a lotta the teams use..."
Nny: "I'm not -lying-!" he snaps.
She looks at him like he has two heads. "Did I say you -were-?"
Nny: Her expression makes Nny growl in earnest, and he grips Teatime's hand tightly.
Teatime: "Jesus Christ," she mutters, turning around again; within a moment, Teatime's got his hand on her shoulder. "I'd appreciate it, Miss, if you didn't speak to my husband like that."
Nny: Nny takes a step back; he always likes seeing Teatime like this.
Teatime: "-He's- the one who--" the girl starts, but Teatime cuts her off, grinning. "Please. I don't want us to fall out, Miss - I'd like to think we're all friends. And this store doesn't seem to have much of a record for keeping it's employees safe from harm, does it?" A moment; the assistant's eyes widen, and so does Teatime's smile. "Now. Brooms, if you please."
Nny: Laughing, Nny leans against Teatime's side, spirits lifted somewhat.
Teatime: The girl's a little quieter now, which Teatime is quite pleased with. He kisses Nny's cheek as she shows them one of the Nimbus Pro brooms.
Nny: "They're... sleek," Nny says with grudging admiration.
Teatime: "I want one," Teatime decides. "Do you want one to, Nny?"
Nny: "I have..." He stops, realizing that his broom isn't in this one's league at all. "Yes. I think I do."
"Um." Teatime turns; the girl's speaking again. He rolls his eyes at Nny. "We only - I mean, we've got limited stock. Not many people..."
Nny: He looks at her again, glaring even more fiercely than before.
Teatime: "I -do- hope that you have two in stock right now," Teatime says quietly, smiling. "It'd be just -awful- you didn't..."
Nny: Nny finds his hand creeping up the back of Teatime's shirt. Feeling his skin is so soothing...
Teatime: Little goosebumps rise on Teatime's skin as he feels that, and he smiles, leaning against Nny. The shop assistant looks scared. "I, uh - I mean, some of them are reserved and stuff, to, y'know, Quidditch players, since it's a--"
Nny: "-Sports- assholes," Nny spits. "Everyone thinks they're so IMPORTANT."
Teatime: "But we -are- important, Nny. And we're going to get brooms, aren't we, Miss?"
Nny: It's good, Nny reminds himself, that Teatime is so reasonable. He traces little circles on his husband's back.
Teatime: Teatime barely even notices the girl stuttering and sprinting off to check the stockroom; he tilts his head against Nny's shoulder and fixes his mismatched gaze on him. "That's nice."
Nny: "-You're- nice," Nny murmurs.
Teatime: "I'm glad you think so. Would you like it if I kissed you?" he asks, indulgently, as though offering a treat.
Nny: "Yes," he answers simply.
Teatime: One hand curling behind Nny's neck, Teatime pulls him into a long, slow, deep kiss; his other hand strokes Nny's face. So nice, this friend of his, this -husband- of his; his very favourite thing.
Nny: It's very grounding, Teatime's kiss; Nny leans into it with a contented sigh, basking in his body heat.
Teatime: "Love you," Teatime murmurs. If he notices the embarrassed glances and odd looks they're getting he makes no sign of it.
Nny: "Love -you-. Just you."
Teatime: "Of course," Teatime grins. "What else would you love?"
Nny: A wry smirk. "Deep fried twinkies?"
Teatime: He laughs. "No. You love me best."
Nny: "Best of everything," he agrees.
Teatime: "You have wonderful taste, you know."
Nny: "I like the way -you- taste."
Teatime: "Not quite the same," Teatime smiles, "but it hardly destroys my argument."
Nny: "You're wonderful in general."
Teatime: "And we're going to have wonderful broomsticks to ride on, too."
Nny: "Yes," he says softly. "Way up high where the world can't touch us."
Teatime: "I know you like that. I know you like it when we're up there, just the two of us." He pauses. "Maybe we'll wait until it's dark."
Nny: He raises an eyebrow at that. "Do you have an ulterior motive, Jonathan Teatime?"
Teatime: "Well, that way you can look at the stars." He laughs. "It's always so odd when you call me Jonathan."
Nny: "Do you want me not to?"
Teatime: "You can if you like. It's very rare, though, to hear it."
Nny: "Sometimes rare is good. -You're- rare."
Teatime: "Well, yes. There's only one of me."
Nny: "I only need one of you."
Teatime: "Good." He leans in to kiss him again.
Nny: "More than one of you would exhaust me," Nny murmurs, stroking the nape of Teatime's neck.
Teatime: "Exhaust you?" Teatime grins, forehead resting against Nny's.
Nny: "If there were two of you." He rests a hand on Teatime's hip. "You'd wear me out."
Teatime: "I don't see -why-. I think it'd be quite nice to meet another me."
Nny: "What would you do if the other you wanted to. Um. Take advantage of being my husband?"
Teatime: Teatime cocks his head. "He wouldn't be your husband. -I- would."
Nny: "But if he was YOU?"
Teatime: "-I'm- me."
Nny: "So there -can't- be another you."
Teatime: "Well, there -isn't-, of course. But if there was, you'd need to get married to him, too, for him to count as being your husband. Though I don't see why we'd -exhaust- you... If you're implying what I think you are, well. You had Mister Dib as welll as me, once."
Nny: "Yeah," Nny agreed softly, expression growing somber. "But usually it was -us- exhausting -him-."
Teatime: "Do you think so?" Of course, at that point Teatime had no experience at all of quantifying other people's emotions, a skill he's still very new to.
Nny: "But now we exhaust each -other-," he points out, awkwardly trying to shift the line of conversation.
Teatime: "-I'm- not exhausted." Teatime grins.
Nny: "I'll exhaust you later."
Teatime: "You can -try-," he laughs.
Nny: "Maybe I'll take some of those -toys- to you. The ones with -batteries-."
Teatime: "That's not -you-, though. So you wouldn't really be exhausting me."
Nny: "If I tied you up and slid it in and out until you begged me to touch your cock?" Nny smirks, not even trying to keep his voice down.
Teatime: A pause. "That... -does- sound quite... But you'd be using something else to exhaust me with, so I'd still win." Teatime can tell that the sales assisstant has approached them, to his blind side; what's odd is the way she seems to suddenly back off and disappear again.
Nny: "It'd give my arm a workout," he laughs. "Maybe I'd spank you, too. Or pinch you in places."
Teatime: "I'd still win," Teatime insists.
Nny: "Because the dildo would have plunged into your sweet little ass of its own accord?"
Teatime: "No. Because you wouldn't -exhaust- me."
Nny: "You don't think that would be me exhausting you?"
Teatime: "It would certainly be a -try-." He grins at Nny, cocky and self-assured.
Nny: "Or I could... handcuff you. And lie down and tell you to -ride- me."
Teatime: Teatime laughs; he certainly doesn't seem displeased by the idea, caught up in the way Nny talks. "Like a broomstick?"
Nny: "That's a flattering comparison. But I wouldn't give you splinters."
Teatime: Leaning against Nny, Teatime kisses his cheek. "I'm glad to hear it."
Nny: "After. After you take my flying."
Teatime: It takes him a moment to realise what Nny means. Then he nods, slowly. "Yes. I promised you that."
Nny: "I like it when we fly. Especially at night, when we go away from all the lights and people, to where it's just us and the stars and the night air."
Teatime: "It'll be some time before it's night," Teatime points out.
Nny: "We can go get some ice cream. And chili fries."
Teatime: "Alright." He turns around, good eye searching for the shop assisstant, leaning comfortably against Nny's skinny frame.
Nny: It still surprises Nny sometimes to realize how -natural- it feels now, to press against Teatime, their bodies easily fitting against each other. He's not quite as concerned about the whereabouts of the salesclerk; the broom is a Teatime-thing, after all.
Teatime: "... she went away," Teatime says, sounding displeased.
Nny: "Maybe she was afraid I'd whip it out right here and push you to your knees."
Teatime: Teatime looks confused for a few moments, before his expression clears and he laughs. "I thought you meant the broomstick," he explains.
Nny: "Teatime? Never suck a broomstick. You might hurt your teeth."
Teatime: "Why would I suck a -broomstick-?"
Nny: "You do odd things sometimes. I don't always know why."
Teatime: "Well, I wouldn't do -that-." He glances about for the girl, but she's still nowhere to be seen. "What do -I- do that's odd?"
Nny: Even Nny has more tact than to say what immediately comes to mind; that Teatime wants to go back -there-, back to the world that made him think it was normal to be abused and molested. "I just guess we're still learning each other, that's all."
Teatime: "Good. I like learning new things." Just as he's about to become -impatient-, the girl hurries back, two long packages balanced in her arms. "We found some," she says.
Nny: "Good," Nny says harshly. "I'd be pissed off if Teatime was disappointed."
Teatime: "And -I- wouldn't like it if there wasn't one for -Nny-," Teatime adds.
Nny: "Because you look after me," Nny murmurs fondly.
Teatime: He kisses Nny's cheek in reply; the assisstant, looking extremely nervous, moves to bundle the broomsticks into their arms.
Nny: Nny takes hold of his easily, making note of the weight and how it feels in his hand.
Teatime: Teatime gives her a warm, friendly smile as he takes his broom, the sort that probably gives some people nightmares. "Thanks! Shall we, Nny?"
Nny: "Yeah. I want chili fries. And ice cream."
Teatime: They pay for the brooms quickly, and without incident. "Do you think we'll find those down here?"
Nny: "Dunno. Maybe a diner or something?"
Teatime: "I'm sure we'll find one." He glances at his broomstick. "Do you want to drop these off at home, first? It'll only take a moment to get them back once it's dark..."
Nny: A nod. "And then we can go up for chili fries. I don't think they do them right down here, anyhow."
Teatime: "What -are- chili fries?" Teatime asks suddenly, hooking an arm about Nny's waist.
Nny: "French fries. With chili on them. And I want cheese, too."
Teatime: "We'll get all of that," he promises, and sends them home.
Teatime and Nny go to get new brooms.
Teatime: It's early. Teatime's in the living-room, furniture pushed to the walls, naked apart from a pair of longish boxers; he's mid-way through a set of press-ups, humming under his breath.
Nny: Nny's morning has been frustrating. He'd been trying to paint, but it's a blocked day, as many of them are, and nothing is coming out right. He storms out of the tent, brooding, and flops onto the couch with a cold soda, hoping that watching Teatime will make him feel better.
Teatime: "Hi!" Teatime says, peering over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Nny: A weak attempt at a smile. "I couldn't paint."
Teatime: "Oh." Apparently completing his set, Teatime pushes himself up and kicks from the floor until he's standing on his hands. He begins moving his legs as if he's on some odd, upside-down bicycle. "Do you know why?"
Nny: He has to bite back an angry, self-deprecating retort. "Some days I really can't."
Teatime: A few moments; then Teatime jumps, landing easily on his feet, and comes to sit by Nny. "I suppose you should just wait til tomorrow, then." He smiles. "Then you'll be able to."
Nny: That -does- make Nny smile; Teatime's optimism is reassuring. "Maybe. Were you having fun?"
Teatime: He shrugs. "Just exercising, really."
Nny: "It's nice, seeing you like that. You look good."
Teatime: "Do I?" Teatime asks idly, then says, "I suppose I don't entirely -need- to, here. Because of magic and guns and so on. But I'd rather do things properly."
Nny: "If it means I can watch you move like that, then it's a very good thing."
Teatime: A laugh. "Well. I'm glad you approve."
Nny: "It's nice to watch. Especially when you're dressed like that."
Teatime: "... but I'm not dressed."
Nny: "My point exactly."
Teatime: "Oh. -Oh-," Teatime says, and then laughs again.
Nny: Snickering, Nny kisses Teatime's cheek lightly. "I like watching you."
Teatime: "I like doing it. So I suppose that's good for both of us, then."
Nny: "Are you thirsty?" Nny holds out his soda.
Teatime: "Mm. A little." Teatime takes the can for a quick sip. "Do you feel alright? I know," he says, with a hint of pride, "that not being able to paint makes you feel sad."
Nny: "It does. Or something like that. But it's better when you're here, so I'm not alone with it."
Teatime: Teatime, for whatever reason, suddenly pictures Nny-feeling-sad as an odd, blob-like ball that both of them have to carry to a window and throw into the street. "We don't have any windows," he tells Nny. "Do you think doing something fun would help?"
Nny: The mention of windows is a bit strange; he gives Teatime a baffled glance. "Would help us have a window?"
Teatime: "Oh - I'd just forgotten, really. I got used to not having windows after a little while... do you miss them?"
Nny: "Not as much as I would have thought I would. If I want to see the stars at night, flying up on my broom is better than any window."
Teatime: Teatime laughs. "I barely ever used doors to get in and out of buildings, before I came here. It was a little odd at first." He cocks his head. "We didn't get me a new broom, did we?"
Nny: "...I don't think so? I guess you didn't go get one on your own, then."
Teatime: He shakes his head.
Nny: "We need to get you one, then. You should have one."
Teatime: "I agree. I think I'll need to shower first, though. And get dressed."
Nny: "Yeah. I don't want other people seeing you in your underwear."
Teatime: Teatime smiles and gets up, heading towards the largest bathroom. "Because they aren't allowed."
Nny: "Not allowed to look at you."
Teatime: "Well. I don't think we can prevent them from looking at me. Particularly if I ask one of them something."
Nny: "I meant, looking at you when you're like this. That's just for me."
Teatime: "Oh. Well, yes, -that's- only for you." He stops, looking at Nny with his head cocked to one side. "Are you... coming with me?" The question is slightly odd, perhaps because of the fight from the previous night.
Nny: "Do... do you -want- me to?"
Teatime: "Well... yes. Unless you'd prefer..."
Nny: "I want to. Maybe..." Nny pauses to think of something Teatime might like. "Maybe we can get ice cream, too."
Teatime: A smile. "Alright." He heads towards the bathroom once more, then stops again, just for a split second and without turning around. Normally he'd assume that Nny would accompany him into the shower, but he's not sure now, in light of this near-awkwardness. Had he changed the rules, somehow?
Nny: "...what?" Nny's not used to Teatime hesitating. It makes everything seem off-balance, somehow.
Teatime: "I'm going to go and shower now," he says.
Nny: "Do you want me to...?" Nny's all too mindful of their argument to take anything for granted, either, although he's paint-spattered and could certainly use a shower as well.
Teatime: Teatime turns around properly this time. "I would. Like that, I mean."
Nny: Relief plainly visible on his face, Nny pulls off his stained tshirt, following Teatime towards the bathroom.
Teatime: There's something like relief on Teatime's cheerful face, too; he twines a few of his fingers around Nny's. "Arguments are odd," he says.
Nny: "I don't like arguing with you." He squeezes Teatime's hand.
Teatime: "Neither do I. We shouldn't do it again."
Nny: "I don't -want- to." He pulls Teatime close and hugs him tightly.
Teatime: Nuzzling Nny's neck, Tetaime nods. "So let's not."
Nny: Of course, Nny knows Teatime well enough by now to suspect that means 'do what I say next time', so he strokes Teatime's hair instead of flat-out agreeing.
Teatime: "But we're still friends."
Nny: "-Always-. I'm not letting you go. I thought you knew that." He kisses Teatime's cheek.
Teatime: "Good." Teatime straightens up a little. "So. Shall we shower?"
Nny: "Yeah. You're all sweaty," Nny says with mock-disgust.
Teatime: "Well, I was -exercising-."
Nny: "I noticed. I was watching."
Teatime: Teatime smiles. "Well, let's go, then." He tugs on Nny's hand, pulling him into the bathroom.
Nny: Nny presses against Teatime as they walk, soothed by his nearness. "We can get you a really -nice- broom."
Teatime: "A fast one."
Nny: "But it should be sturdy enough for us to ride double on it."
Teatime: "Of course."
Nny: "We can test it out after, if you want."
Teatime: "I'd like that." In the bathroom now, Teatime pulls of his boxers and moves to turn on the shower.
Nny: Peeling off his ratty sweatpants, Nny steps into the shower. "C'mon, I'll wash your back."
Teatime: "Alright." He cups his hands under the water and scrubs his face, then stretches, enjoying the feel of the water running down him.
Nny: And it is nice, being in the shower with Teatime, the feeling of their routines reasserting themselves. Things going back to normal, or at least their 'normal'.
Teatime: Teatime leans back against Nny, smiling. "So. Ice-cream and broomsticks. And flying. Anything else?"
Nny: "We could go get some more knives? I think we left some behind..."
Teatime: "Oh, yes. That -is- a good idea."
Nny: "We can go to the restaurant supply place. They have a lot of knives."
Teatime: He nods, reaching for the soap."That -does- sound like a nice day."
Nny: "Do you..." Nny pauses, biting his lip. "Do you feel better?"
Teatime: Teatime pauses to think. "... mostly, I think. I suppose it depends what you mean. Do -you- feel better?" he demands suddenly. "You weren't very happy yesterday either."
Nny: "No, I wasn't, I..." A long, slow breath. "I -worry- about you. You know I do."
Teatime: He blinks, misunderstanding. "But I was fine. None of our clients even put up a struggle."
Nny: "I don't mean that. You know I don't."
Teatime: "... because I was upset?"
Nny: "Because of that. Yeah."
Teatime: "And... that's why you weren't happy?" This seems to be what Nny is driving at, though Teatime had assumed that Nny was upset because he didn't like him killing children.
Nny: "Well. -A- reason. I don't like seeing you upset like you were last night, I don't like that you can still be upset because of -them-..."
Teatime: "Well. I'm better now, I suppose." He's obviously not quite sure what he's supposed to do or say at this point; he looks at Nny uncertainly.
Nny: "I'll take care of you. I'll -make- you be better." Abruptly, Nny spins Teatime around and starts scrubbing his back.
Teatime: Taken by surprise (and how many people can do -that-?) Teatime half laughs. "I thought I was going to make you better," he says, softly.
Nny: "We're supposed to make each other better, I think. That's how it works."
Teatime: "Does that mean you should have a --" Teatime remembers the term from last night "-- therapist, too?"
Nny: Nny's startled into laughter. "I don't think that'd do me any good. I've seen a couple in the past, but..."
Teatime: "What are they? What do they do?" He recalls Nny saying that they spoke to you, but... well, don't quite a -few- people do that, on a day-to-day basis?
Nny: "Um. They listen to you talk about your problems, and suggest things to to to make you feel better."
Teatime: "... the way -we- do?"
Nny: "Probably not the way we do. But maybe that's good. A, um, different perspective."
Teatime: "But I -like- our perspective."
Nny: "So do I." He pauses in his ferocious scrubbing to caress Teatime's shoulder. "But someone else may have ideas I couldn't. That could help."
Teatime: "I just need to stop being so silly, really. It was quite some time ago."
Nny: "You're not silly."
Teatime: "I -can- be."
Nny: "Well, yeah. And you're usually very cute when you are. But you aren't silly when you're unhappy about this."
Teatime: "You don't think it's silly to be irrationally preoccupied with something that happened when I was much younger?"
Nny: "Not if you're only just realizing what -really- happened." Wrapping his arms around Teatime's waist, Nny rests his chin on his shoulder. "I love you."
Teatime: "I love you, too." He turns his head to kiss Nny's cheek. "Why didn't you like having a therapist?"
Nny: "They didn't have anything new to say to me. But it wasn't that bad. After all, if they pissed me off, I'd just..."
Teatime: Teatime nods; he supposes there's always that. "And you just... say things at them?"
Nny: "Yeah. About why you're upset."
Teatime: "What if I'm not upset when I talk to them?"
Nny: "You tell them about what you're upset about when you -are- upset."
Teatime: "Oh. What did you talk about?"
Nny: "About. Um. Being depressed, hating people, not sleeping, that stuff."
Teatime: Teatime stretches his arms behind him, wrapping them about Nny's waist. Thoughtfully, he says, "And I'd talk about... I don't think there are a lot of things I -would- talk about, really."
Nny: "I just want them. The Guild. To not be able to hurt you anymore. To not be able to keep you from doing things anymore."
Teatime: "I do anything I like, now. You know that."
Nny: "But some things still make you upset. Make you tense. There are still things you think you aren't supposed to do."
Teatime: Slowly, Teatime realises what they're talking about. "... that's different."
Nny: "How is it different?"
Teatime: "I explained. The other day."
Nny: "But that's what they -wanted- you to think." Nny sighs. "I'm... I'm -not- good at making things better."
Teatime: Teatime turns around to face Nny. "I think you make everything better," he says, and kisses him softly.
Nny: "I want to."
Teatime: "And you do. So it fits perfectly."
Nny: "Do you believe me, then?"
Teatime: "What about?"
Nny: "That they were lying to you. About... that. Just trying to control you. Messing with your head."
Teatime: Teatime shakes his head, touches Nny's face. "That's... it's just different, Nny. Perhaps I haven't explained it very well."
Nny: "I don't think -I've- explained it well. But that might be what a therapist could do."
Teatime: Frowning a little, Teatime shrugs. "If that's all it is, I'm not sure it's such a problem... but if you like. If you want me to, we can... find one of those."
Nny: "I just don't like that we killed them and they can still make you -hurt-, can still get -between- us."
Teatime: "You think they're between us?"
Nny: "Well, there isn't a whole lot we disagree on, is there?"
Teatime: "Not particularly..."
Nny: "See? It's -their- fault."
Teatime: "We disagree about killing children," Teatime recalls suddenly.
Nny: A slow nod. "I still think that's their fault too."
Teatime: "... why?"
Nny: "Because they..." Nny sighs. The only things he can think of to say to clarify it would probably just upset Teatime again. "Because they taught you."
Teatime: "I don't really think I follow that, Nny."
Nny: "Well, they taught you that it's okay. To hurt kids. They taught you that by the way they treated -you-."
Teatime: Teatime shakes his head. "I don't think that's... I just enjoy my work. I enjoy being thorough."
Nny: Unwilling to get into another argument, Nny just kisses Teatime's cheek. "The enjoying part is good."
Teatime: "Yes." He leans against Nny. "... where would we find one, then?"
Nny: "I... I'm not sure. Maybe a phone book?"
Teatime: "Perhaps." Teatime's used a phone book a few times now; he has a better idea of how they work. "Can't we go shopping for one?"
Nny: "...I don't think you can buy a therapist at a mall."
Teatime: "We bought a house elf."
Nny: "Yeah, but a therapist is more like a hairdresser or something."
Teatime: "Surely we'd find a... therapist shop, then? Somewhere?"
Nny: "They have offices. Like doctors."
Teatime: "Oh. Well, phonebook it is, then." He cocks his head at Nny. "Do you want me to wash you?"
Nny: "I like it when you wash me."
Teatime: Teatime smiles, taking the soap; he begins to lather Nny up, washing him briskly and efficiently.
Nny: Half-closing his eyes, Nny leans into Teatime's touch with a pleased sigh.
Teatime: "I'm sorry if I upset you last night," Teatime murmurs - a rare thing for him to say.
Nny: The uncharacteristic nature of the apology isn't lost on Nny, either. "I... I know you wouldn't upset me on purpose."
Teatime: "Good." He puts the soap down. "I think we're washed now."
Nny: "Broom first, or ice cream first?"
Teatime: "Broom."
Nny: "Let's get dressed, then."
Teatime: Shutting off the water, Teatime pulls Nny out with him, grabbing a towel to quickly dry them both down.
Nny: Nny interrupts the drying by pulling Teatime close and kissing him. "You -know- I love you, yeah?"
Teatime: "Mm. Yes." He strokes the small of Nny's back. "Of course I do," he adds, then presses into another kiss.
Nny: "I thought I should remind you." He savors the feeling of Teatime's closeness, the taste of his lips, for a moment before sighing with faint regret. "But we need to get dressed and go out to get you a broom."
Teatime: "Alright." Teatime looks a little conflicted about stepping away, too, but he finishes drying himself and head towards the bedroom for clothes.
Nny: As long as it's fairly clean and not in complete tatters, Nny's not all that particular about what he wears; it only takes a minute or so for him to pull on a tshirt and jeans.
Teatime: Teatime is a little pickier, though he enjoys not having to pay attention to fashions in the way that the Guild had insisted on; he dresses in a black shirt and trousers, stretching happily. As always, he feels better after strenous activity, and the exercises he'd been working on had helped to stretch a few muscles he'd been neglecting.
Nny: Nny takes advantage of his comparative haste to watch Teatime dress, as always admiring the elegant grace of his movements. "What kind of broom do you think you'll get?"
Teatime: "A fast one. The fastest they have."
Nny: "I can't wait to see you, fliying fast and laughing, with the wind messing up your hair."
Teatime: "It'll be fun," Teatime agrees, grinning broadly.
Nny: "You make a lot of things fun."
Teatime: "I'm glad you think so. I'm glad we're still friends."
Nny: "...did you think we wouldn't be?"
Teatime: "I don't know. Perhaps. I'm still glad, though."
Nny: "I'm never going to give you up. Never going to let you go. I thought you knew that."
Teatime: "Yes. Well. We -won't- fight again, will we, Nny? So it'll be alright."
Nny: "I don't want to. I didn't like that."
Teatime: "Then we won't."
Nny: Smiling, Nny bounds forward and hugs Teatime. He's not as confident that they'll never argue again, but Teatime's conviction is comforting.
Teatime: "Because it's silly to do things we don't like," he clarifies, snuggling into the hug. "Now. Are we ready?"
Nny: "Yeah." He kisses Teatime's cheek.
Teatime: Teatime apparates them back to the huge flying emporium they'd purchased his last broom from; remembering Nny's reaction to the place, he takes his hand and holds it tightly. "Is there anything -you'd- like?"
Nny: "I already -have- a broom," Nny tells him, looking around with a rather trapped exoression.
Teatime: "Well, they aren't just selling those," Teatime points out: there's sports equipment, Quidditch paraphernalia, clothes...
Nny: The overall atmosphere is similar to a sporting goods store, and Nny winces.
Teatime: Teatime notices, and turns his head curiously to Nny. "Are you alright?"
Nny: "I'll. I'll be okay."
Teatime: "Do you... not want to be here?"
Nny: "This is where you get your broom."
Teatime: He looks at Nny for a moment longer, then nods. "Yes. We'll find someone and get the fastest model, and then we'll go and eat ice-cream. You'll like that, Nny, won't you? And then I'll fly you up over the desert."
Nny: "Yeah." He gives Teatime a brief, hard hug. "I will."
Teatime: Teatime wraps an arm about Nny's shoulders and holds him close as he locates the nearest shop assistant. "Hi!"
Nny: Teatime's usual cheerful demeanor is like an anchor for Nny. Teatime's here, he's happy, everything else can be dealt with.
The shop assistant looks at them, twisting her blonde hair in her fingers. "Yeah?" she drawls. "Can I -help- you?"
Nny: "We need a -broom-," Nny snaps at her irritably.
"A -broom-? Like, what kind?"
Teatime: Teatime grins at her. "The very fastest you have, please."
Nny: Nny leans against Teatime, glowering at the saleslady. Soon, he reminds himself. They'll be finished here soon.
The assistant looks doubtful. "Like, can you be a bit more specific? We sell a lotta fast brooms, y'know? You want a fast racing broom, or a travelling broom, or a Quidditch broom, or...?"
Nny: "What's -fastest-?" Nny grits out.
"Depends on what you -want-," the girl repeats, looking bored and irritated.
Nny: He's starting to growl low in his throat; if she's not going to be -helpful-...
Teatime: "As I've said, we want whatever's fastest," Teatime says. "It needs to be able to seat two - or, well, myself and Nny. That might count as one and a half, he's very light."
Nny: He has to laugh softly at that; surely he's not so light to be a half? But Teatime's light too.
"Well, that's a -bit- work with," the girl says; she turns on her heel, beckoning for them to follow up her up a set of stairs.
Nny: Nny's scowling as they trail along behind her; he keeps reminding himself that this is for Teatime, it'll make him happy.
"Racing brooms are probably the kind you want," the girl says in a bored voice as they follow. "They're not so great for doing tricks or going long distance, but they've got the speed..."
Nny: "Tricks like what?"
"Sharp turns, feints, that kinda shi- stuff."
Nny: Nny turns to Teatime; sharp turns are fun, but speed is what he said he wanted.
Teatime: "Can racing brooms do loops?" Teatime wants to know.
"Not great ones. They're, like, designed to get to one point fastest? You probably want a top-range Quidditch broom."
Nny: "I know you like being nimble in general," he say softly to Teatime.
Teatime: "Nimble's a good word," Teatime agrees.
Nny: "You're good at nimble."
"The Nimbus range isn't the best," says the assistant, mis-hearing them. "There's the Nimbus Pro, but that's pretty pricey..."
Nny: The interruption makes Nny glare. "Pricey doesn't matter."
"You sure? It really -does- mean pro - this is what a lotta the teams use..."
Nny: "I'm not -lying-!" he snaps.
She looks at him like he has two heads. "Did I say you -were-?"
Nny: Her expression makes Nny growl in earnest, and he grips Teatime's hand tightly.
Teatime: "Jesus Christ," she mutters, turning around again; within a moment, Teatime's got his hand on her shoulder. "I'd appreciate it, Miss, if you didn't speak to my husband like that."
Nny: Nny takes a step back; he always likes seeing Teatime like this.
Teatime: "-He's- the one who--" the girl starts, but Teatime cuts her off, grinning. "Please. I don't want us to fall out, Miss - I'd like to think we're all friends. And this store doesn't seem to have much of a record for keeping it's employees safe from harm, does it?" A moment; the assistant's eyes widen, and so does Teatime's smile. "Now. Brooms, if you please."
Nny: Laughing, Nny leans against Teatime's side, spirits lifted somewhat.
Teatime: The girl's a little quieter now, which Teatime is quite pleased with. He kisses Nny's cheek as she shows them one of the Nimbus Pro brooms.
Nny: "They're... sleek," Nny says with grudging admiration.
Teatime: "I want one," Teatime decides. "Do you want one to, Nny?"
Nny: "I have..." He stops, realizing that his broom isn't in this one's league at all. "Yes. I think I do."
"Um." Teatime turns; the girl's speaking again. He rolls his eyes at Nny. "We only - I mean, we've got limited stock. Not many people..."
Nny: He looks at her again, glaring even more fiercely than before.
Teatime: "I -do- hope that you have two in stock right now," Teatime says quietly, smiling. "It'd be just -awful- you didn't..."
Nny: Nny finds his hand creeping up the back of Teatime's shirt. Feeling his skin is so soothing...
Teatime: Little goosebumps rise on Teatime's skin as he feels that, and he smiles, leaning against Nny. The shop assistant looks scared. "I, uh - I mean, some of them are reserved and stuff, to, y'know, Quidditch players, since it's a--"
Nny: "-Sports- assholes," Nny spits. "Everyone thinks they're so IMPORTANT."
Teatime: "But we -are- important, Nny. And we're going to get brooms, aren't we, Miss?"
Nny: It's good, Nny reminds himself, that Teatime is so reasonable. He traces little circles on his husband's back.
Teatime: Teatime barely even notices the girl stuttering and sprinting off to check the stockroom; he tilts his head against Nny's shoulder and fixes his mismatched gaze on him. "That's nice."
Nny: "-You're- nice," Nny murmurs.
Teatime: "I'm glad you think so. Would you like it if I kissed you?" he asks, indulgently, as though offering a treat.
Nny: "Yes," he answers simply.
Teatime: One hand curling behind Nny's neck, Teatime pulls him into a long, slow, deep kiss; his other hand strokes Nny's face. So nice, this friend of his, this -husband- of his; his very favourite thing.
Nny: It's very grounding, Teatime's kiss; Nny leans into it with a contented sigh, basking in his body heat.
Teatime: "Love you," Teatime murmurs. If he notices the embarrassed glances and odd looks they're getting he makes no sign of it.
Nny: "Love -you-. Just you."
Teatime: "Of course," Teatime grins. "What else would you love?"
Nny: A wry smirk. "Deep fried twinkies?"
Teatime: He laughs. "No. You love me best."
Nny: "Best of everything," he agrees.
Teatime: "You have wonderful taste, you know."
Nny: "I like the way -you- taste."
Teatime: "Not quite the same," Teatime smiles, "but it hardly destroys my argument."
Nny: "You're wonderful in general."
Teatime: "And we're going to have wonderful broomsticks to ride on, too."
Nny: "Yes," he says softly. "Way up high where the world can't touch us."
Teatime: "I know you like that. I know you like it when we're up there, just the two of us." He pauses. "Maybe we'll wait until it's dark."
Nny: He raises an eyebrow at that. "Do you have an ulterior motive, Jonathan Teatime?"
Teatime: "Well, that way you can look at the stars." He laughs. "It's always so odd when you call me Jonathan."
Nny: "Do you want me not to?"
Teatime: "You can if you like. It's very rare, though, to hear it."
Nny: "Sometimes rare is good. -You're- rare."
Teatime: "Well, yes. There's only one of me."
Nny: "I only need one of you."
Teatime: "Good." He leans in to kiss him again.
Nny: "More than one of you would exhaust me," Nny murmurs, stroking the nape of Teatime's neck.
Teatime: "Exhaust you?" Teatime grins, forehead resting against Nny's.
Nny: "If there were two of you." He rests a hand on Teatime's hip. "You'd wear me out."
Teatime: "I don't see -why-. I think it'd be quite nice to meet another me."
Nny: "What would you do if the other you wanted to. Um. Take advantage of being my husband?"
Teatime: Teatime cocks his head. "He wouldn't be your husband. -I- would."
Nny: "But if he was YOU?"
Teatime: "-I'm- me."
Nny: "So there -can't- be another you."
Teatime: "Well, there -isn't-, of course. But if there was, you'd need to get married to him, too, for him to count as being your husband. Though I don't see why we'd -exhaust- you... If you're implying what I think you are, well. You had Mister Dib as welll as me, once."
Nny: "Yeah," Nny agreed softly, expression growing somber. "But usually it was -us- exhausting -him-."
Teatime: "Do you think so?" Of course, at that point Teatime had no experience at all of quantifying other people's emotions, a skill he's still very new to.
Nny: "But now we exhaust each -other-," he points out, awkwardly trying to shift the line of conversation.
Teatime: "-I'm- not exhausted." Teatime grins.
Nny: "I'll exhaust you later."
Teatime: "You can -try-," he laughs.
Nny: "Maybe I'll take some of those -toys- to you. The ones with -batteries-."
Teatime: "That's not -you-, though. So you wouldn't really be exhausting me."
Nny: "If I tied you up and slid it in and out until you begged me to touch your cock?" Nny smirks, not even trying to keep his voice down.
Teatime: A pause. "That... -does- sound quite... But you'd be using something else to exhaust me with, so I'd still win." Teatime can tell that the sales assisstant has approached them, to his blind side; what's odd is the way she seems to suddenly back off and disappear again.
Nny: "It'd give my arm a workout," he laughs. "Maybe I'd spank you, too. Or pinch you in places."
Teatime: "I'd still win," Teatime insists.
Nny: "Because the dildo would have plunged into your sweet little ass of its own accord?"
Teatime: "No. Because you wouldn't -exhaust- me."
Nny: "You don't think that would be me exhausting you?"
Teatime: "It would certainly be a -try-." He grins at Nny, cocky and self-assured.
Nny: "Or I could... handcuff you. And lie down and tell you to -ride- me."
Teatime: Teatime laughs; he certainly doesn't seem displeased by the idea, caught up in the way Nny talks. "Like a broomstick?"
Nny: "That's a flattering comparison. But I wouldn't give you splinters."
Teatime: Leaning against Nny, Teatime kisses his cheek. "I'm glad to hear it."
Nny: "After. After you take my flying."
Teatime: It takes him a moment to realise what Nny means. Then he nods, slowly. "Yes. I promised you that."
Nny: "I like it when we fly. Especially at night, when we go away from all the lights and people, to where it's just us and the stars and the night air."
Teatime: "It'll be some time before it's night," Teatime points out.
Nny: "We can go get some ice cream. And chili fries."
Teatime: "Alright." He turns around, good eye searching for the shop assisstant, leaning comfortably against Nny's skinny frame.
Nny: It still surprises Nny sometimes to realize how -natural- it feels now, to press against Teatime, their bodies easily fitting against each other. He's not quite as concerned about the whereabouts of the salesclerk; the broom is a Teatime-thing, after all.
Teatime: "... she went away," Teatime says, sounding displeased.
Nny: "Maybe she was afraid I'd whip it out right here and push you to your knees."
Teatime: Teatime looks confused for a few moments, before his expression clears and he laughs. "I thought you meant the broomstick," he explains.
Nny: "Teatime? Never suck a broomstick. You might hurt your teeth."
Teatime: "Why would I suck a -broomstick-?"
Nny: "You do odd things sometimes. I don't always know why."
Teatime: "Well, I wouldn't do -that-." He glances about for the girl, but she's still nowhere to be seen. "What do -I- do that's odd?"
Nny: Even Nny has more tact than to say what immediately comes to mind; that Teatime wants to go back -there-, back to the world that made him think it was normal to be abused and molested. "I just guess we're still learning each other, that's all."
Teatime: "Good. I like learning new things." Just as he's about to become -impatient-, the girl hurries back, two long packages balanced in her arms. "We found some," she says.
Nny: "Good," Nny says harshly. "I'd be pissed off if Teatime was disappointed."
Teatime: "And -I- wouldn't like it if there wasn't one for -Nny-," Teatime adds.
Nny: "Because you look after me," Nny murmurs fondly.
Teatime: He kisses Nny's cheek in reply; the assisstant, looking extremely nervous, moves to bundle the broomsticks into their arms.
Nny: Nny takes hold of his easily, making note of the weight and how it feels in his hand.
Teatime: Teatime gives her a warm, friendly smile as he takes his broom, the sort that probably gives some people nightmares. "Thanks! Shall we, Nny?"
Nny: "Yeah. I want chili fries. And ice cream."
Teatime: They pay for the brooms quickly, and without incident. "Do you think we'll find those down here?"
Nny: "Dunno. Maybe a diner or something?"
Teatime: "I'm sure we'll find one." He glances at his broomstick. "Do you want to drop these off at home, first? It'll only take a moment to get them back once it's dark..."
Nny: A nod. "And then we can go up for chili fries. I don't think they do them right down here, anyhow."
Teatime: "What -are- chili fries?" Teatime asks suddenly, hooking an arm about Nny's waist.
Nny: "French fries. With chili on them. And I want cheese, too."
Teatime: "We'll get all of that," he promises, and sends them home.
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