[ The boy has a facility for story-telling; they’ll give him that.
Or Rin would have given him that, up until the knife turns and Rin feels the world go still, feels suddenly too warm, feels their eye twitch, their body going tense.
This boy.
Told this story.
To call them stale.
Stale and bitter, overrated; as good as old.
The boy keeps talking and maybe, maybe that wasn’t the only reason he spun that story. But Rin can’t follow the rest of the thread immediately. But Rin’s head is buzzing and they’re thinking very seriously that they could spit on the little shit or - more collectedly, more appropriately - walk away.
Thinking, ’I’ve disappointed better people than you.’
Thinking they don’t care for being lectured (is it really or only a lecture); particularly not by men who’ve known them for no more than a handful of minutes.
Thinking, ’Did Darius put you up to this?’ (Knowing Darius wouldn’t have dared. Knowing Darius has been ken on remaining near Sen and maybe Rin. Knowing Darius brought the boy here and wanted to introduce him for a reason. No, whatever this is, it’s spoken of the boy’s own volition.
(And why? And to what end?))
Also. And also. Did the boy call them, of all the lusterless descriptors on this planet, a pumpkin spice latte?
They feel their teeth grit together. They swallow, and feel as if their throat’s aflame. They want to go; they don’t want to flee. And they didn’t invite Darius and this boy here only to walk out on them, but Rin could do it, easily do it.
Something noteworthy: Beside them, Sen started to move, to speak, then stopped when the boy continued talking. There’s a reason Sen stopped. Something maybe worth listening to, worth following, because Sen wouldn’t tolerate this nonsense without purpose or promise of a change.
Rin tries to think about Sen, think about reaching for Sen, an attempt to anchor themself. Rin looks at Sen, a long and searching attempt to bring Sen’s image into focus (everything feels a little hazy; they just want to see Sen clearly, feel a little less unsettled). And Sen’s still her. And Sen’s still listening, which means something worthwhile might be happening. And Rin did come into this intending to be civil, to give this boy Darius has found - this boy who has so noticeably and strangely impacted Darius - a chance.
Well, and they had tried to be genial! And they had asked about the boy and so what if they called Darius the asshole he so unrelentingly has been? The boy must know Darius is himself fucking rank. He can’t possibly be deluded enough to have missed it, can he?
A thought, a recognition, a piece of Enri’s speaking that flickers to awareness: the boy does know, but knows as well some other - difficult to believe; not impossible - face of Darius. And his preference for that face alone need not speak ignorance; it’s a choice, and perhaps Enri does care for Darius. And perhaps the perpetual shitstorm of a man has managed to make this boy happy.
…Did the boy say.
Yes, the boy said he loves Darius.
It’s no excuse for flinging diatribes or insulting Rin. Whose brow furrows at the renewed recollection of what the boy insinuated. Still, it explains a thing or two.
…And.
And if nothing else, the boy did answer Rin’s question.
And if removed from what he said and what he insinuated about Rin, it was rather a clever way to approach responding. (Maybe, maybe one Rin will moderately respect, when and if they get past the pumpkin spice latte.)
Rin’s looking at Sen again, blinking, eyebrows raised. Thinking, well, if nothing else, they can carry this on for Sen’s sake. And. And Darius’s as well. (Thinking they’d like to speak with Sen. Ask Sen. Maybe. To ease the wounds that have been spoken.)
So they find the boy again, expression mild. Watching him in the wake of this storm of speech. Watching Darius, who’s casting the boy a glowing half-smile, pleased and proud and if it’s an uncommon look on Darius, it isn’t a bad one. ]
As it happens, Enri, my fiancé does have it in him to be a nosy fuck. As do I. As does your boyfriend.
[ Which is - they think, but don’t say - an odd word applied to Darius. Which Rin speaks without a hitch, regardless. And really, none of the three of them were ever much for relationships, until recently. Until now.
Rin takes Sen’s arm and squeezes, smiling up at him. ]
This doesn’t mean I love them less. Nor should I condemn nosiness.
[ And there are kisses for Sen’s hand: one to the back, one to the palm, one to the wrist. And, in Italian, voice lowering for Sen alone— ]
My ecstatic fire. My lover. Where would I be without you?
[ Keeping Sen’s hand in their own, Rin returns their focus to Enri and Darius. Darius who is in fact opening his mouth to speak— ]
Gross, Rin.
[ And, leaning over to set a kiss to Enri’s cheek (whispering something unheard by Rin; whispering ’My Puppy, my Enri, thank you,’ and ’You love me so well’), Darius speaks again— ]
You see? I’m unspeakably fortunate. And I did tell you Enri’s a class of his own.
My clever boy. My dutiful defender.
[ Rin would roll their eyes, Rin is absolutely thinking about rolling their eyes, only Darius - while partly, maybe, crowing, maybe boasting - seems remarkably in earnest. As did the boy. And maybe, maybe this isn't the moment for further antagonism.
The boy may have called them stale and bitter and the most basic coffee drink in pop culture's imagination, but he might have made a point or two, and it might not hurt to acknowledge the fact. So Rin settles for meeting Darius's gaze and raising an eyebrow in cheeky acknowledgement before finding the boy's eyes. ]
Don't mistake me, Enri; I see your point. You are of the forthright sort, yes? You made a not-insignificant showing of yourself in this response. For that, I thank you.
I won't ask your forgiveness, but I might see my way to mellowing whatever speech I place upon your boyfriend.
It seems you might truly be good for him. If he is good for you, as well - and from your words, he is - then who can complain?
no subject
Or Rin would have given him that, up until the knife turns and Rin feels the world go still, feels suddenly too warm, feels their eye twitch, their body going tense.
This boy.
Told this story.
To call them stale.
Stale and bitter, overrated; as good as old.
The boy keeps talking and maybe, maybe that wasn’t the only reason he spun that story. But Rin can’t follow the rest of the thread immediately. But Rin’s head is buzzing and they’re thinking very seriously that they could spit on the little shit or - more collectedly, more appropriately - walk away.
Thinking, ’I’ve disappointed better people than you.’
Thinking they don’t care for being lectured (is it really or only a lecture); particularly not by men who’ve known them for no more than a handful of minutes.
Thinking, ’Did Darius put you up to this?’ (Knowing Darius wouldn’t have dared. Knowing Darius has been ken on remaining near Sen and maybe Rin. Knowing Darius brought the boy here and wanted to introduce him for a reason. No, whatever this is, it’s spoken of the boy’s own volition.
(And why? And to what end?))
Also. And also. Did the boy call them, of all the lusterless descriptors on this planet, a pumpkin spice latte?
They feel their teeth grit together. They swallow, and feel as if their throat’s aflame. They want to go; they don’t want to flee. And they didn’t invite Darius and this boy here only to walk out on them, but Rin could do it, easily do it.
Something noteworthy: Beside them, Sen started to move, to speak, then stopped when the boy continued talking. There’s a reason Sen stopped. Something maybe worth listening to, worth following, because Sen wouldn’t tolerate this nonsense without purpose or promise of a change.
Rin tries to think about Sen, think about reaching for Sen, an attempt to anchor themself. Rin looks at Sen, a long and searching attempt to bring Sen’s image into focus (everything feels a little hazy; they just want to see Sen clearly, feel a little less unsettled). And Sen’s still her. And Sen’s still listening, which means something worthwhile might be happening. And Rin did come into this intending to be civil, to give this boy Darius has found - this boy who has so noticeably and strangely impacted Darius - a chance.
Well, and they had tried to be genial! And they had asked about the boy and so what if they called Darius the asshole he so unrelentingly has been? The boy must know Darius is himself fucking rank. He can’t possibly be deluded enough to have missed it, can he?
A thought, a recognition, a piece of Enri’s speaking that flickers to awareness: the boy does know, but knows as well some other - difficult to believe; not impossible - face of Darius. And his preference for that face alone need not speak ignorance; it’s a choice, and perhaps Enri does care for Darius. And perhaps the perpetual shitstorm of a man has managed to make this boy happy.
…Did the boy say.
Yes, the boy said he loves Darius.
It’s no excuse for flinging diatribes or insulting Rin. Whose brow furrows at the renewed recollection of what the boy insinuated. Still, it explains a thing or two.
…And.
And if nothing else, the boy did answer Rin’s question.
And if removed from what he said and what he insinuated about Rin, it was rather a clever way to approach responding. (Maybe, maybe one Rin will moderately respect, when and if they get past the pumpkin spice latte.)
Rin’s looking at Sen again, blinking, eyebrows raised. Thinking, well, if nothing else, they can carry this on for Sen’s sake. And. And Darius’s as well. (Thinking they’d like to speak with Sen. Ask Sen. Maybe. To ease the wounds that have been spoken.)
So they find the boy again, expression mild. Watching him in the wake of this storm of speech. Watching Darius, who’s casting the boy a glowing half-smile, pleased and proud and if it’s an uncommon look on Darius, it isn’t a bad one. ]
As it happens, Enri, my fiancé does have it in him to be a nosy fuck. As do I. As does your boyfriend.
[ Which is - they think, but don’t say - an odd word applied to Darius. Which Rin speaks without a hitch, regardless. And really, none of the three of them were ever much for relationships, until recently. Until now.
Rin takes Sen’s arm and squeezes, smiling up at him. ]
This doesn’t mean I love them less. Nor should I condemn nosiness.
[ And there are kisses for Sen’s hand: one to the back, one to the palm, one to the wrist. And, in Italian, voice lowering for Sen alone— ]
My ecstatic fire. My lover. Where would I be without you?
[ Keeping Sen’s hand in their own, Rin returns their focus to Enri and Darius. Darius who is in fact opening his mouth to speak— ]
Gross, Rin.
[ And, leaning over to set a kiss to Enri’s cheek (whispering something unheard by Rin; whispering ’My Puppy, my Enri, thank you,’ and ’You love me so well’), Darius speaks again— ]
You see? I’m unspeakably fortunate. And I did tell you Enri’s a class of his own.
My clever boy. My dutiful defender.
[ Rin would roll their eyes, Rin is absolutely thinking about rolling their eyes, only Darius - while partly, maybe, crowing, maybe boasting - seems remarkably in earnest. As did the boy. And maybe, maybe this isn't the moment for further antagonism.
The boy may have called them stale and bitter and the most basic coffee drink in pop culture's imagination, but he might have made a point or two, and it might not hurt to acknowledge the fact. So Rin settles for meeting Darius's gaze and raising an eyebrow in cheeky acknowledgement before finding the boy's eyes. ]
Don't mistake me, Enri; I see your point. You are of the forthright sort, yes? You made a not-insignificant showing of yourself in this response. For that, I thank you.
I won't ask your forgiveness, but I might see my way to mellowing whatever speech I place upon your boyfriend.
It seems you might truly be good for him. If he is good for you, as well - and from your words, he is - then who can complain?