IC CONTACT;

[moneyballer]

username: I CAN B UR DADDY

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action;

[pummelling]

[Because Kung Jin doesn't know when to quit-- and because maybe at some point, Takeda's ninja bullshit rubbed off-- Jin's suddenly quick on Asher's heels through whatever hallway of Oska he's making a beeline down.]

I was just teasing. But clearly you care, or you wouldn't have hung up on me.

[moneyballer]

[With a book bag slung over his shoulder, Asher had been on his way to his own room, where he had been considering passing out for the night. He averts his eyes, clearly not at all won over by his boyfriend's honesty, letting out a loud sigh after grinding his teeth together.]

I know.

[In his heart, he knows why the archer doesn't understand his irritation, though for the first time in months, the other's words have struck a particularly sore spot. The sensation is all too familiar, frighteningly so.

The law student considers simply maneuvering around the one-man human obstacle course, but he is not mad enough for that, so instead he chooses to lean back against the wall and do nothing.]

[pummelling]

So, what then?

[What did I do?]

You're mad enough about a dumb joke to stop talking to me, so could you at least tell me why?

[Of course he's still irritated. All of this seems utterly ridiculous. Asher, however, wouldn't do this pointlessly: somewhere there's a sore spot Jin had struck unknowingly and it's nearly more frustrating than the fact that this is happening to begin with.

There's not quite an apology on Jin's lips as he steps back, standing in front of Asher and waiting, not cornering him, simply awaiting his next move. But there's a small plea in those words. He's stumped. But no matter what, he wants, in earnest, to understand.]

[moneyballer]

It's not d-

[Not dumb.

His jaw rocks from side to side as he stares Jin down, making perfect eye contact. The shaolin's words have only made him more upset, it seems.]

I don't wanna talk about it out here, okay?

Just let me get past you.

[pummelling]

Then let's talk about it inside.

[The look in Asher's eyes is what does it. There's a pang of guilt in him, visible in his face, the way his shoulders unsquare themselves: fight's gone right out of Jin.]

I just want to know what's wrong, Ash.

[moneyballer]

[Asher is not yet done with being a child in many ways, but in this moment he quietly steps around his very guilty significant other, shoving his key into the lock with a little more than just unadulterated gusto.]

[pummelling]

[Undeterred, Jin waits as Asher unlocks and opens his door.]

Can I come in?

[moneyballer]

[He does not entertain that request with a verbal reply, although he leaves the door open halfway, heading straight for his closet.

Asher's room is looks like something out of a movie, bedsheets perfectly arranged, with no shoes or socks left strewn out on the floor. He walks by the trophy that lays idly on a stepping stool, unused and forgotten, a silent reminder of the life he must eventually return to. He opens a door to reveal a set of neatly arranged outfits, all pressed and ready to go, sealed up in garment bags. One of the bags is empty, and it is here where he begins to remove his jacket.]

Look, I told you before.

[This is a point of contention for him.

He hates admitting it, especially more than once.]

I didn't have a lot of friends growin' up.

[Motions are easier to focus on for the time being, and so he does that instead of talking, giving him time to think.

Time he doesn't want or need.]

My sister hated me, mom was always out doing weird rich political wifey bullshit, and dad was never home.

[pummelling]

[It's not exactly a no, and Asher's still speaking to him; Jin follows the silent invitation and closes the door behind him, taking a quiet and cross-legged seat on the edge of Asher's bed.

The room's so familiar, but so foreign all at once with the two of them spending most of their time in Jin's room alone. It's an odd feeling, like returning home after a long trip away to find the real world still set so neatly in its old paces. The reminder of that life universes away applies to Jin, too. It's never more apparent than when they aren't seeing eye to eye.

He shifts his position, his leg creating a wrinkle in the fabric of Asher's sheets.]

And Beyonce ties into this... how.

[At the very least, he's mindful enough to not say anything rude about her again. Even if he still thinks everything's a little silly, having not heard the explanation.]

[moneyballer]

[A finger flits through a knot in his tie, and the thing unravels, going slack around his neck.

Asher's back still remains facing Jin as he speaks, though his voice falters briefly. He hates doing this, he despises being reminded of the fact that even after a year of knowing each other, they are literally worlds apart in many respects, and perhaps they always will be.

Parting ways will hurt, big time.]

Sometimes, it felt like music and TV was all I had.

[He doesn't mean to sound ungrateful for his opportunities, or the fact that he grew up never feeling hungry, for food at least. In terms of material possessions, he could have had his pick of any frivolous fancy he ever desired, but things never fill the void that people are supposed to.]

Like, if I was watching a show about some normal, happy family, or rockin' out to some jam that made me wanna drop it like it's hot, I...

[The next memory he recounts is a painful one, and while Jin may not see it Asher's face, the shaolin will certainly hear it.]

I could pretend that I wasn't just some dumb lame-o eating ice cream alone on the couch.

[The image of that sad, pathetic child has remained with him for god knows how long, and in a way, it is still who he sees himself to be.

A phase he fears that he will never truly grow out of.]

It's stupid, I know.

[Muttered under his breath:]

I'll get over it.

[pummelling]

It's not stupid when you put it that way.

[Jin stretches his legs out so they hang off the edge of the bed, and his hands, looking for something to occupy them, smooth the already-set bedspread absently.]

...I read a lot when I was a kid. [he begins, after a moment of thoughtful silence.] Whatever I could get my hands on. But you know the stuff I like best. History, politics, stuff about other realms and worlds. At least that way there was an excuse for it when I kept getting into fights with my classmates. Being the smart one me feel better about myself-- like I was better than them... 'cause if I wasn't going to hold up the family legacy proper, I could at least do that much.

[He stops again.

There's a soft noise of fabric shifting over fabric, the mattress seeming to sigh without the burden of the man's weight upon it, as Jin gets back to his feet.]

I didn't know it was that personal.

[Asher won't face him, but he doesn't need to see his face to sense the depth of those feelings. The loneliness of someone who tried his best to pull others closer to no avail, rather than to push away in a defense built up slowly over years, brick upon brick of hurt stacked high.

What a pair the two of them are.]

I'm sorry.

[moneyballer]

[Asher listens as he always does, even if the information doesn't really surprise him. Jin has always loved history, politics, and museums- Because he's smart.]

That's the thing.

[He presses his forehead against the wood atop the closet opening, miming as though he's searching for something inside. In reality, he just doesn't want to face Jin.]

Most of my heroes aren't warriors, or even real people. And the ones I knew in real life, they-

[Fuck.

Just get it out, damn it.]

Weren't as awesome as I thought they were. And maybe that's my fault.

[Maybe, just maybe, he had hoped for too much.]

I shouldn't get so worked up about dumb stuff! God, I wish I didn't care. I'm still so mad, right now...

[A vicious beast peeks out from the recesses of his mind, ever-present, baring its teeth.]

I'm sorry, too.

[Its claws dig into the fleshy tissue that rests inside his skull.]

I'm such a loser.

[pummelling]

[Jin steps forward quietly, like he's worried he'll scare Asher away with his touch.]

I'm not dating any kinda loser.

[Slowly, gently, Jin's arms wrap around him from behind, pulling him into the warmth of his embrace even as Asher struggles to climb out of the anxieties he wrestles within his own mind. It's his first instinct, just to have him in his arms, when the words to comfort just won't come. (The wounds aren't as fresh in Jin's own heart, but they're there; he'd been the loser, too, the let-down, the boy with heroes and a destiny that'd failed him altogether.) He holds him there, the shape of him settling against his body wordlessly until--]

I'm striking that "break-up" from the record, by the way. Never happened. [OK HE KNEW IT WAS FAKE BUT JUST LET HIM MAKE THE JOKE,,,,]

[Jin turns his head a little, pressing an affectionate kiss to Asher's shoulder.]

Tell me what's really on your mind, Ash.

[moneyballer]

[His heart jumps at that rush of physical contact, the warmth that is familiar from arms strong enough to lift him and his lousy spirits up.

However, this time is unlike the last. Resentment builds in his chest and he begins to hate himself again, nose curling upwards in disgust at nobody other than his miserable self. Here is a someone who loves him, a good person, better than he deserves, and for some reason all he can focus on is the darkness behind the layers of the clothing, terrifying like the demons in his mind. The poison that is self-hate colors his perceptions and the closet appears longer momentarily, like a corridor, containing all the people and things that made him hate himself in the first place.

Between them stand a few familiar faces. The few who have believed in him, the others he has loved. One is standing right beside him now, physically, and yet he still can't even muster up the courage to answer that question.]

I'm just bein' weird.

[There is a sickness inside of him, one he had hoped love would cure.

The other four have it too, as does their teacher.]

It's not your fault.

[pummelling]

Go easy on that guy. I like him.

[His chin rests on Asher's shoulder as Jin pulls him in closer. His eyes drift toward the carefully-stored outfits hung up in that closet, studying the bulky outlines behind the clear plastic of the garment bags, like they'll give him some sort of answer.]

If weird was an issue before, it sure as hell isn't now.

[He sighs, blinking into that darkness, trying to follow Asher's gaze and catching none of it.]

Try me.

[moneyballer]

[He lets himself be pulled in this time, resisting the urge to reach out and touch Jin's fingers with his own. How many times will the other, younger man have to take care of him?]

I'm a shitty boyfriend, and a shitty person.

[Impending doom is on the horizon, what with the Zymandis infiltration mission just around the corner. He should be honing his skills, working on his cover story, and ultimately preparing for the worst. If they are discovered it may very well be the end of time as they know it, and that should be at the center of the listless space that is his consciousness. Instead he is worried about stupid things because he is a stupid thing.

He has no real reason to be upset, or so he thinks.]

I'm sorry.

[A repeat of what he'd uttered just seconds prior.]

I don't wanna be like this.

[He manages to pull the tie up and over his head, thrusting it onto the nearest flat surface, which happens to be the same one the trophy rests on.

So many questions, and yet he has still not laid it out, plain and simple.

What bothers him most.]

[pummelling]

[There's only so much more time. Only so many more quiet moments like this that he will be able to steal; only so many times he'll be able to wake up beside him in the morning. Jin's eyes close tightly. He inhales, and what he breathes in is the sharp clean scent of freshly laundered shirt, the lingering and now familiar aroma of Asher Millstone's cologne.]

I make fun of you, and you say you're the shitty boyfriend? [murmurs Jin into his shoulder.] C'mon.

[Jin's faced apocalypse before. He's encountered death, grief, the pain of his body tossed about and bruised and broken-- but he has never been in love like this before, and gods above, if he's never had it, how could he even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose it?]

It's fine. You're good. You're more than good enough for me.

[Jin's fingers tug and fumble for the buttons down the front of Asher's shirt. They take hold, and, one by one, undo them, top to bottom.]

[moneyballer]

[Perhaps it's all a matter of perspective, but the end of the world does not frighten him as much as the potential of losing Jin forever. The violence is unpleasant, sure, as is the ever-present looming potential of death. Somehow, Asher has gotten used to all of that despite only being exposed to it for a year, by virtue of of not having any other options. He can't escape his fears, whether they be of mortality or never being good enough, but he can do this.

He lets Jin tug the fabric off his shoulders, finally reaching out to take that freckle-covered hand.]

I haven't been there for you like I should've-

[Fingers intertwine. The tone of Asher's voice is familiar.

Resentment, self-inflicted.]

It's been a really messed up couple of weeks.

[pummelling]

[The shirt-- contrary to Jin's usual neatness-- is abandoned, tossed casually onto Asher's bed. Jin misses and it slips from the edge of the bed and into a pile on the floor below.]

Yeah?

[Stepping so he's actually beside Asher, Jin's fingers run carefully over those of his partner, peering at him expectantly.]

Didn't you literally run clear across the castle to bring me something from the kitchens this week? Also, yesterday, you gave me a back massage for like a full hour.

[moneyballer]

[Asher finally plops down onto the bed, although he does not let go of Jin's hand.

He hears the sound of a woman crying amidst the backdrop of waves crashing, then a gunshot. Suddenly, he is in his father's study again, although there is no sound accompanying the images that come flooding back, only the bitter, disappointed look on that old croon's face as he ushered his own flesh and blood out the door.]

Yeah, I did.

[The air is still around them as Jin hovers about. Asher doesn't really take notice of anything but the dead space in front of him, forcing the next few words out like an object being thrust from a windpipe.]

Sometimes I feel like I'm not important.

[pummelling]

[It's not a huge surprise, even if Jin had hoped those feelings had eased up some. If he's still warring with himself about doing enough for the cause... how much moreso for someone who hadn't grown up with the end of the world hovering over his head?]

On the team? Or just...

At all?

[moneyballer]

Both, I guess.

[Saying that out loud feels good. It lifts some of the weight off his shoulders.

He may not be wonderful, he may not be great, but there are others here who have just as much darkness (if not more)
in their pasts, and they are here today, kind and good.

Kind and good.]

I think that's why I got so mad.

[He finally makes eye contact.]

I know that... I'm not from a world that's ending, and I know that my family's fine and nobody's at war-

[That he knows, anyway.]

But my problems, the things I care about...

They're mine. Y'know?

[pummelling]

[Jin releases Asher's hand for a moment as he takes a seat close beside Asher, leaning up against him.]

Yeah. I get you.

[He takes his hand in his own once more and squeezes.]

You're plenty important to me. You know that too, right?

[moneyballer]

[One day they will discuss the topic further. Asher has been made uncomfortable by recent conversations, particularly those that suggest that warriors are the only useful teammates. He hates being seen as a weakling, a burden, but isn't he just as useless in his own world?

For now, however, he is tired, tired enough to relinquish all of his petty bullshit and roll over and onto his side, nestling his way into Jin's lap.

Sometimes, this is the only place where he feels he truly belongs.]

Uh-huh.

[Asher brings the knuckle in his grasp to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against it.]

I do.

[pummelling]

[At least this time he agreed-- and meant it. Jin makes way for Asher to lie in his lap.]

Good.

[This isn't over yet, but it's a start. It's enough for him. Enough for today. The fingers of his free hand carefully weave their way through his hair, massaging the scalp and moving through the curls.]