doesitanyway | [ MEADOWLARK ] IC Inbox

[ Hmmmm. ]

Do you want to be fucking? Because that makes things very complicated.

[ Yeah. That.

Ephemera is quiet for a long moment, rubbing his thumb along the rim of his glass. ]

I don't know. I don't. Do that, anymore.

[ Or at least he hasn't in a very long time. He stopped touching people as Sharkface unless it was in violence, or because he had no other choice. Sometimes he can touch people now without it hurting, accept a brief pat on the arm or a hug. Sometimes he holds hands with people, or presses his shoulder against theirs, and it feels like a comfort. Ginia kissed him once, on the cheek, and he freaked on her. Sometimes he flirts with people at the fight clubs but it never goes anywhere, he never lets it become more than a game.

He could, though. He could try. It might even be nice. Or he might lose his shit all over again. ]

[ Trevor swirls his glass, thoughtful. ]

Me neither. Or.. ever, really. I mean not never, but. [ he waves his free hand ] You know what I mean. They've been few and far between.

If you do want to you're going to need a warmup. Getting more used to physical contact.

[ If he were in a different mood, Ephemera thinks he might have taken that as an opening. Tipped his head to the side and smiled just to see what it got him. In this one he's drunk and shifting between too many different emotions to rightly handle. He just shrugs. Drinks again. ]

Probably. Haven't lost it it on anyone recently, at least.

[ He rubs his thumb along the edge of the glass, focusing on the texture. That calms him sometimes. A repetitive gesture. ]

Used to like getting with people. Wasn't complicated. Everybody has some fun, everybody gets to stop fighting for a while.

Lucky. It's always been complicated for me.

[ He thinks for a moment, then offers his hand as he's done before. Usually he avoids the bond just to spare people but it's also got its practical uses and Ephemera didn't seem to find his emotions all that terrible previously. ]

Might as well adjust to it. Here.

[ Complicated. Ephemera tips his head to the side and almost asks, but then Trevor offers out his hand. A simple gesture on the surface, though what it means beneath that is complicated. There's no lying with the empathy bond. No pretending the moment, and the emotions, are anything except exactly what they are.

He breathes out. Then he takes Trevor's hand in his own.

It's been a strange conversation. A flood of emotions and questions that Ephemera is trying to untangle on his own. He likes Drake and the thought of the life his other self led with that man is tempting, something that Ephemera can't help be jealous of. But the thought of some version of him, some stranger, who got his shit together long enough to fall in love with another person is hard to parse, even if that person was Drake and this Ephemera can see the appeal in standing next to someone that kind, that solid. And then there's the opening he could have taken a moment ago with Trevor, who is kind and there, an uncomplicated person in his life. Who isn't afraid to offer out his hand, who touched Ephemera's hair and laughed with him, and it was good.

It was good.

And it helps, too, that Trevor is handsome. Ephemera's thought about it idly a few times, a path he hasn't pursued because he doesn't do that with people anymore.

He swallows. He's drunk now, though not so far gone he can't think straight. He doesn't pull his hand away. ]

[ Trevor's emotions are definitely simpler; concern and a desire to help his friend, the warm fuzziness of how much he's drunk, and a fondness for Ephemera that's probably quite pleasant for him to feel.

He smiles easily, glad Ephemera didn't shy away. He could have. The conversation's been up and down, to say the least, and Trevor knows he pried a bit. This could be construed as doing so further. It isn't, of course, and Ephemera knows that now for sure. He just genuinely wants to assist.

(Underneath it all, though, that Trevor doesn't know is there because it's always there and he's just used to it, it's how he is... is a deep sadness, loneliness.) ]

See, that's not so bad now is it?

[ Ephemera felt it earlier when they touched, that deep and abiding loneliness in Trevor. A well of sadness underneath that, one that felt familiar if not quite the same to his own hurt. Sharkface had felt nothing but rage and grief. There had been no room for anything else.

He tips his head to the side. It feels good right now, the bond pulsing warm between them. The blue glow lights up Trevor's a little, just enough to see through his shirt. ]

You're lonely. You don't have to be.

[ Trevor blinks. ]

Am I? I didn't realize, I'm sorry. That can't be pleasant.

[ Should he pull his hand back..? ]

It's okay.

[ He squeezes Trevor's hand. Not hard. Tips his head to the side a little and wonders. Earlier, he thought it might have been an opening. Trevor doesn't flirt like Ephemera himself used to back in the day, but there's an honestness to the man, and this moment, that Ephemera likes. He's warm and comfortable from the whiskey, the edges dulled down, and it feels good to touch another person.

So much of his life is complicated right now. It's good to have something that isn't. Something good.

Ephemera smiles a little. He hasn't been with anyone in years. He's not sure he can do it anymore, not like he used to, but Trevor is sad and lonely, so lonely, and he doesn't have to be. He leans forward a little, touching the back of Trevor's knuckles with his free hand. Tracing scars.

Not everything has to hurt. It was a hard lesson to swallow, but an important one. ]

Is this?

Edited 2020-07-12 19:59 (UTC)

[ Trevor tilts his head curiously when Ephemera leans closer, watches the other man trace the scarring over his knuckles. No one's ever touched him like that, with such care.

Slowly he nods, a thread of confusion in his emotions as well. His glass is resting on his leg, his focus now completely on Ephemera. ]

They don't hurt.

[ The empathy bond continues, a soft blue glow under their shirts. It feels warm. Trevor has strong hands. Callused, scarred. Much like his own. And though there's confusion, there isn't anger or revulsion.

Why not? Ephemera thinks. Why the fuck not?

He tips his head to the side. Smiles in a way he knows was charming, once. ]

I'm drunk. But that not drunk. You want to fuck?

[ Trevor blinks -- he didn't see that coming, somehow. It just didn't occur to him, but there's no revulsion at the proposition, either. Just sheer bewilderment, and then he laughs sharply. ]

I've never had anyone ask me that who didn't expect payment.

[ He does have to consider it. Not because he doesn't think he can, but because he wouldn't have much idea of what to do. He's never been the one in control of his encounters, and there's a lack of experience in this arena. ]

You might wind up disappointed.

[ Ephemera huffs a little. Squeezes Trevor's hand in his own. ]

I could say the same. It's been a long time for me.

[ But he likes how it feels to trace Trevor's scars with his fingers. And maybe that can be enough, to start. Something uncomplicated. ]

Do you want to, Trevor?

[ It isn't quite as simple as a yes or no answer for him, considering what they were just discussing. He has to consider if it would be detrimental to things. But also it's been forever and if he ignores the previous conversation? Sure. Why not? Ephemera feels fairly comfortable making the offer and in the end that's enough.

Trevor downs the rest of his glass and leans over to put it back on the table, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a grin. ]

I'd be willing to give it a try.

[ Once, not so long ago, the thought of touching another person with anything resembling intimacy would have floored him. Ephemera thinks he would have felt it like a wound, a physical pain he had no way of rightly contending with. And he thinks it would be different with Drake, or Ginia, with the weight of all the things they've shared bearing down on him. Harder, maybe. Trevor has seen his dreams, one of the worst things Ephemera ever did, but Trevor still came to see him in the aftermath. Pushed him to do better instead of wallowing in sorrow over what couldn't be changed.

Besides. He likes Trevor. Ephemera might be rusty, unused to being touched, but he knew how to make other people feel good once. He could do that again.

Ephemera smiles. Runs his fingers lightly over the back of Trevor's hand and then leans back. Stands up slowly, then offers out his hand again. ]

C'mere.

[ Ephemera stands and Trevor rolls his shoulders -- they're doing this, it seems. The loss of the empathy bond leaves him feeling a little empty but he knows it'll be back soon. Sooner, even, when Ephemera holds out his hand again.

Trevor stands and takes it, lets himself readjust. ]

Lead on.

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