[Milliways stables]

[2goodarms]

On the short list of Things Curtis Didn't Expect, "talking helped as much as fighting to ditch his bad mood" ranks right near the top.

...okay, yeah, so did the kissing. And the promise of more, even if that "more" isn't happening tonight. And just -- being around Dejah, watching her smile, listening to the warmth of her voice. It's like she thaws the coldest parts of him; melts the ice with a touch; sets the water moving again. She barely has to do anything except be, and all of a sudden he's feeling better than he has all day.

How the hell did this happen so fast?

He's still dressed for the gym -- undershirt, wrapped hand, and all -- as he makes his way out to the stables. If Edgar's not there, maybe he'll try to re-introduce himself to Nitwit before going back to room 1001. That baby thoat's probably had a pretty weird day.

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

"Yeah, Dejah says thoats eat em." Edgar makes a face.

[2goodarms]

"Oh, well in that case my pet Martian bug's staying in our room." Curtis stifles a yawn against the bend of his elbow. "I'll let it run around. Be free."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Good plan," murmurs Edgar, muffling yet another yawn of his own.

It's so quiet out here.

[2goodarms]

It's a comfortable kind of quiet: the breathing of large bodies, the hum of crickets, the occasional thump as a horse knocks its foot against the ground. Between that, the fresh air (well, as fresh as you can get in a stable), and Curtis' earlier exertion, the ground's starting to feel pretty cozy.

"You gonna spend the whole night out here?" he murmurs.

[hate_gettin_older]

"I dunno," he says. "Maybe. First night in a strange place, I don't want her to panic if she wakes up."

[2goodarms]

He nods, absently scrubbing at the back of his neck again.

"...Want me to stay out here, too?"

[hate_gettin_older]

His smile is smaller this time, but heartfelt.

"Wouldn't mind that at all."

[2goodarms]

A small, tense knot he didn't even notice unwinds under Curtis' breastbone. His own smile grows. "Okay."

He leans his head back against the wall, scooting down an inch to make himself more comfortable.

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar shifts his shoulders against Nitwit's side, settling back down.

"Oh," he says after a moment, "did I show you the cup they gave me?"

[2goodarms]

Curtis' eyebrows rise.

"No. What cup?"

[hate_gettin_older]

He shifts again, squirming sideways to rummage in the makeshift inner pockets of his jacket until he comes up with it: the polished lower beak of the Devil's Snare, set in a holder of knotted and molded leather.

[2goodarms]

Damn. That is nice. Curtis purses his lips in a near-silent whistle.

"Hell of a party favor," he says.

[hate_gettin_older]

"It's part of the whatsit's mouth," he says, closing one hand over the top of the cup -- fingers spread wide, as it's a good deal bigger than his hand -- and flapping his hand up and down by way of illustration, as of a beak opening and closing. "The Devil's Snare. Iljat, that's what Tars's people call it."

[2goodarms]

He's trying to picture a spray of tentacles surrounding that mouth, sprawling nearly to the size of Nitwit -- like Julia Fruitnugget's younger cousin, but a hell of a lot meaner. It's...pretty unsettling.

Thank God for that super-strength.

"We're gonna have to make you a trophy case," he says, deadpan.

[hate_gettin_older]

"I was thinking maybe I might keep my rock collection in it," he says, a little dreamily.

(And maybe just a little smugly.)

[2goodarms]

"String it up with the twine? Hang it from the ceiling?"

...shit, he's gonna have to get the twine back from Dejah now that Woola doesn't need the scent anymore. Eh, he'll do it tomorrow.

[hate_gettin_older]

"Tie it to the end of my hammock? Maybe just leave it on the windowsill."

(It's still weird to realize every so often that he has enough room to do that. To keep his own stuff that far away from his bunk.)

[2goodarms]

"And put a little flower in there to top it all off."

Solemn.

[hate_gettin_older]

"Or maybe a butterfly."

Just as solemn.

[2goodarms]

"It can hang out with the Martian bug I bring home."

Beat.

"Shit, I gotta think of a name for this bug now. 'Moron?'"

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar snorts with laughter, his head falling back against Nitwit's side.

[2goodarms]

"I can't believe you did that," says Curtis, starting to snicker. "Dejah was like -- "

He widens his eyes, putting on a mimicry of Dejah's accent.

"'Is that the name of a great warrior?' She fuckin' lost it when I told her what it meant."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Oh christ," and now Edgar's laughing hard, clutching his stomach.

Nitwit twitches in her sleep and lets out a questioning grumble, and subsides again.

[2goodarms]

Curtis' own snickering redoubles. He presses the side of his hand to his mouth, trying to rein it in.

"The great hero Nitwit and his mighty steed, Dumbass -- "

[hate_gettin_older]

"-- and his legendary sword Thick-as-a-brick --"

He's managed to stifle the volume in deference to the sleeping thoatling, but he's still laughing, close to silently.