[ He stares at the hand on his wrist and then back up at Fjord. There's fear on his pretty features, and something like regret in his eyes. ]
You said you only wanted what I can give. Well, here we are.
[ It hurt to say it, it kills him to wound this sweet man like this. His friend. But better now than when he fucks it up and hurts him even more. Molly's not a good person; he tries to be, wants to be but he knows he's fickle, and ornery and heading for destruction in one way or the other.
Dying didn't change that, even if he can't feel Lucien any more.
He's more trouble than he's worth, and he'd rather see it off now than later. (But Moonweaver, it hurt. He was happy just an hour ago and now he's terrified. ]
[ Confused and worried by the look of fear in Molly's face, he drops the hold and takes a step back. Not five minutes ago they were about to fall asleep, not an hour ago he was inside him, the alarm in Molly makes no sense. ]
I know what I said, I meant it at the time. I just thought ...
[ He hit a brick wall of feelings and today in the ocean it felt like his heart was made of the same sunbeams that touched them where they kissed in the depths. He searches him for a shred of the warm welcome that has been dripping off Molly in Fjord's direction all day. ]
You said you'd be mine and wouldn't sleep around; you asked me to claim you. [ An unlikable part of his rationale reminds him they were fucking at the time, so he probably shouldn't have taken it seriously. His voice softens, ] It meant something to me, in there.
[ It's not gone; it's there in the way his eyes linger, and the way his tail curls like it wasnt to wrap around Fjord. It's there in the way he hasn't stormed off yet. This was one of the best days of his short life and now it's a nightmare both because what Fjord just said and because Molly's making a mess of it.
Those red eyes widen a bit when the words and begging from him while they fucked come back, and he knows he meant it. Means it. Molly doesn't trust himself, though. He doesn't know if he'll just flit away to something else as soon as he gets bored or scared or drunk.
Everything they have here is making him so happy, but it also feels like being trapped. ]
I know. I... I know what I said. I meant... means something to me too. It wasn't just sex. It's something I would... no, I just... don't think I can give you what you want, Fjord. Fuck.
[ He doesn't stop Molly from leaving but frustration starts to overcome his own fears. His weight shifts on the spot, arms spreading. ]
What's time going to change? I just want you.
[ He should have kept his mouth shut, it only felt like he didn't have to with Molly. It felt different, and good. And now it feels like he blasted himself in the chest. Running a hand through his hair as he looks Molly over for answers it strikes him he's naked, they both are, but Molly's leaving. ]
Fuck. At least ...
[ He scoops up the brightly decorated coat and hands it over, head down as his shoulders sink dejectedly. ]
[ Molly's gaze slides from Fjord's face to his own feet, because he can't bear seeing that look on the half-orc's face. The fact that he's naked doesn't seem to be bothering him at all, but when he's handed his coat he takes it and shrugs it over his shoulders. ]
...thanks.
[ Hesitating for a moment, he then opens the door and heads out. The purple shell is still hanging from one horn, untouched despite their painful differences of opinion.
Going back to his room, Mollymauk gets dressed and leaves the Chateau. He doesn't come home again that night, and isn't there for breakfast. ]
[ 'Why should I know where Mollymauk is?' It's not the right thing to snap at breakfast when the others ask, silence falling like a stone. Having spent the night restlessly pulled between sleeping and waking after hearing Molly leave the Chateau, the only reason Fjord appears for food is that eating eases the pain in his chest by filling his belly instead. He avoids Yasha's frown and leaves with a handful of sweetbread, tearing into it angrily on his way out for the day, armour slung over a shoulder.
He spends most of his day waiting for his chestplate to be fixed, drinking away silver coins in taverns and eating even more food too hearty for him, queasy and a little drunk by the time he stumbles back to the Chateau by late afternoon, a black mood making him look like the mean half-orc the silly bastards at Driftwood always assumed he was. It gets people out of his way en route to the bar, at least.
His heart and lungs and bones hurt, it's not time to stop drinking yet. ]
[ When Fjord returns, Yasha is waiting by the bar with a tankard for him. There's no judgement on her face, just a bit of concern as she crosses her arms and leans back a bit.
He's not back yet. The barbarian says, pointedly. You should go find him. Molly doesn't mean to hurt you, Fjord. He's scared, that's why he needed patience.
She claps him on the shoulder, maybe a tad bit harder than necessary. Bring him back. ]
[ If he gets hurt out there because you're both too stubborn, I'm shaving your beard. Yasha replies, her deadpan voice a little sharper than usual. If you want to be with him, dealing with his moods is part of it.
With that, she walks off to get her sword, heading upstairs to talk to Beau. The bar is mostly empty so far, with no show tonight since the Ruby has taken some time off to be with Jester. There's plenty to drink, though, and a bartender who knows better than to ask questions. ]
[ Because Molly won't get hurt. Fjord's carefully ale-brewed opinion is that Molly didn't feel half the pain he did last night so he can have all the time he wants to reflect on it ... and it's also becoming hard to stand without swaying, so it's about time to find a seat.
The peace of his brooding is interrupted by the evening entertainment of bards taking to the stage, the Chateau filling up as the evening kicks off. There are companions in the Chateau too, none as beguiling as the Ruby but clearly decorative beauties who know how to earn a wage from drunken patrons and stupid sailors, of which Fjord is currently both. They're all tieflings, because of course they fucking are to keep the kind of people happy who dream about Marion. What a theme. He really is back on the coast. One pretty girl with burgundy-red skin finds him stewing and sits in his lap with her floaty dress full of slits showing off her curves, brushing back his hair in a gesture which has his head nodding on her shoulder (and lower), eyelids heavy as the warmth of her tiefling body draws him in. If he dozes he can pretend it's the night before and Molly is the one in his arms ...
She even lets him rub his thumb over her spaded tail, cooing praise in his ear. A savvy saleswoman who knows an easy mark when she sees one, she agrees to stay and talk about anything to fill his silence, keeping him company for a gold coin.
He stops caring about much of anything after his fifth drink. ]
[ It's almost midnight when Molly finally returns, even if it isn't of his own volition as much as he's dragged in by a half-elf that looks impressively Doneâ„¢ with purple tieflings today. His eyes are half-closed as he hangs off the man's shoulder, but even as out of it as he is, he can see the green of Fjord at the bar.
Drunk off his ass and holding a courtesan in his lap, touching her like he had touched him earlier, as if he misses it so much that he needs to hold someone at least similar. It would break Molly's heart if he wasn't so high, and instead he just gets annoyed that it isn't him.
He stumbles and the half-elf does his best to make sure Molly doesn't brain himself on anything on the way down, but that's about it. Once the tiefling's on the floor, he just turns to leave, muttering about crazy devil-bloods and their ilk.
Groaning, Mollymauk turns a bit, and is then helped to sit up by another of the courtesans. His nose is bleeding a bit and he grimaces as he tries to wipe it away. ]
[ The fuss kicked up by Molly's entrance draws a lot of eyes, Fjord's included, and the stumble has him sighing. He reasserts his hold around the girl who is now eyeing Molly with a raised brow, keeping her where she is as Molly is helped by other courtesans.
He's fine, just. Wrecked. He clearly had the time for that.
Being a full-grown adult, Fjord lifts his tankard and takes a deep draught, pointedly looking away without a word. ]
[ Closing his eyes again, he feels like there's a hole gnawed through his chest and it isn't like the hallucinations of weird shit he's seen tonight. Groaning, he shies away from the hands of someone that's trying to clean up his nose, instead trying to get up on his feet again.
He gets about halfway before he falls on his face again. ]
M'stupid, Fjord.
[ He says, half-mumbled into the carpet. ]
But s'it good, ok? Cuz now... you won't leave me when I do stupid shit. I did.... I did stupid things. Bu... non... nothing with anyone. Couldn't... couldn't because they didn't smell like you. Wasn't you.
[ There's a half-crazed laugh on the floor as some of the bouncers are discussing if they can throw out Ms. Lavorre's personal guests or not. ]
[ As drunk as he is, he feels stone-cold sober next to the hot mess on the floor. The girl on his lap looks concerned and agrees to help him take Molly to his bed (for an extra gold coin, which she earns) and the two of them get Molly off the floor to sling his arms around their necks and waist, all but carrying him up the stairs. It's a comedy of errors because she's probably the reason neither of them fall when Fjord's balance wobbles.
It takes ten minutes but eventually Molly is laid out on his own bed and Fjord is sat on the end, catching his breath. It's quiet. The floor is swirling a bit between his feet. He tries not to think about anything Molly burbled downstairs, inwardly debating if he can make it back to his own room. ]
[ Molly babbled incoherently all the way up and then just seemed to shut down. Being placed in bed was a bit of a blessing, even if the room still spun heavily around him and he could barely see.
The tiefling's hair is damp with what smells like whiskey and there's a strong floral scent all over him. His nose doesn't seem to want to let up and there's a few bruises, but he appears to be otherwise unharmed and unrobbed, all jewelry in place. ]
Yasha... he said he's falling in love with me.
[ He mumbles, eyes just a slight sliver of red under his lids. ]
He's falling in love with me and I'm a shit person who will only hurt him.
[ He should get Yasha, but he's drunk and Molly is a hot mess and Fjord doesn't always make the best decisions in a pickle. He sits beside him, placing his hand over one of the tiefling's, waiting for those red eyes to focus on him (he can never tell). ]
[ Whatever Molly's been smoking, Fjord sure wishes he had some. ]
Here.
[ Passing him the glass of water from the bedside tray and making sure Molly is holding it. He wants to be the kind of friend that isn't interested in knowing the secret workings of Molly's mind and leaves him be, but in all likelihood Molly will never tell him anything once he rides out his high. ]
[ The glass is righted before it can spill, set aside. That leaves Fjord helping Molly back to the bed, adjusting the pillows as best he can in his woozy ale-soaked haze; he builds a fort around Molly's head with the pillows. Now he can't roll off the bed, at least. ]
You make him happy too, that's all he cares about.
[ He slumps on the outside of the fort, reaching for Molly's hand because why not. Everything's a mess anyway. ]
I'll hurt him... I did hurt him. Garbage... garbage person.
[ Molly mumbles, and then seems to slide into unconsciousness of some type (hopefully sleep). He's well-protected in the pillow fort, though, and his hand comes to take Fjord's as soon as he's prompted to.
He's breathing fine, so it seems he's not risking an OD. Just shy of it, if his day and night had anything to prove. They're both in for a painful morning, physically and emotionally. ]
[ There will be a Talk in the morning, preferably after breakfast. Fjord sleeps where he closes his eyes and before he knows it there is sunlight piercing his skull, rousing him from an uncomfortable position on his back from which he never once moved in the night. He's up before Molly, checking his pulse and temperature as lightly as he can. ]
[ Mollymauk is a little grey in the face in the morning, but his pulse is fine and he's about as hot-blooded as he usually is. His eyelids flutter slightly as he's touched, a soft moan of protest leaving him before he settles again.
His horns have dug a weird groove into the mattress and there's a lot of dried blood in the bed and on his face from the insistent nosebleed, which seems to have finally stopped completely.
[ Fjord's headache feels better than Molly looks so he prioritises what he needs to do. First, he finds the wash basin and brings it to the bed, still with his own hair rumpled from sleep and the companion's fingers the night before, dabbing the handtowel in and wiping away the worst of the blood on Molly's oddly pale face.
He sounds rough, hushing himself for the sake of not alarming his friend. ]
[ Molly says, voice sounding like it's been through the grinder as well. His eyes open, and it's impossible to see if they're bloodshot or not, but they have a bit better glow to them than the night before. ]
Where am I?
[ He turns, but his stomach lurches at once as he does and he has to swallow several times to not throw up. ] Shit.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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You said you only wanted what I can give. Well, here we are.
[ It hurt to say it, it kills him to wound this sweet man like this. His friend. But better now than when he fucks it up and hurts him even more. Molly's not a good person; he tries to be, wants to be but he knows he's fickle, and ornery and heading for destruction in one way or the other.
Dying didn't change that, even if he can't feel Lucien any more.
He's more trouble than he's worth, and he'd rather see it off now than later. (But Moonweaver, it hurt. He was happy just an hour ago and now he's terrified. ]
Let go of me, Fjord.
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I know what I said, I meant it at the time. I just thought ...
[ He hit a brick wall of feelings and today in the ocean it felt like his heart was made of the same sunbeams that touched them where they kissed in the depths. He searches him for a shred of the warm welcome that has been dripping off Molly in Fjord's direction all day. ]
You said you'd be mine and wouldn't sleep around; you asked me to claim you. [ An unlikable part of his rationale reminds him they were fucking at the time, so he probably shouldn't have taken it seriously. His voice softens, ] It meant something to me, in there.
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Those red eyes widen a bit when the words and begging from him while they fucked come back, and he knows he meant it. Means it. Molly doesn't trust himself, though. He doesn't know if he'll just flit away to something else as soon as he gets bored or scared or drunk.
Everything they have here is making him so happy, but it also feels like being trapped. ]
I know. I... I know what I said. I meant... means something to me too. It wasn't just sex. It's something I would... no, I just... don't think I can give you what you want, Fjord. Fuck.
[ A deep breath and he turns to open the door. ]
...just give me some time.
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[ He doesn't stop Molly from leaving but frustration starts to overcome his own fears. His weight shifts on the spot, arms spreading. ]
What's time going to change? I just want you.
[ He should have kept his mouth shut, it only felt like he didn't have to with Molly. It felt different, and good. And now it feels like he blasted himself in the chest. Running a hand through his hair as he looks Molly over for answers it strikes him he's naked, they both are, but Molly's leaving. ]
Fuck. At least ...
[ He scoops up the brightly decorated coat and hands it over, head down as his shoulders sink dejectedly. ]
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...thanks.
[ Hesitating for a moment, he then opens the door and heads out. The purple shell is still hanging from one horn, untouched despite their painful differences of opinion.
Going back to his room, Mollymauk gets dressed and leaves the Chateau. He doesn't come home again that night, and isn't there for breakfast. ]
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He spends most of his day waiting for his chestplate to be fixed, drinking away silver coins in taverns and eating even more food too hearty for him, queasy and a little drunk by the time he stumbles back to the Chateau by late afternoon, a black mood making him look like the mean half-orc the silly bastards at Driftwood always assumed he was. It gets people out of his way en route to the bar, at least.
His heart and lungs and bones hurt, it's not time to stop drinking yet. ]
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He's not back yet. The barbarian says, pointedly. You should go find him. Molly doesn't mean to hurt you, Fjord. He's scared, that's why he needed patience.
She claps him on the shoulder, maybe a tad bit harder than necessary. Bring him back. ]
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He doesn't want me to go find him, what he wants is space. There's plenty of it out there! I'm just letting him have his fill.
[ Pride and heart wounded, he turns away to find a booth around the corner to drown his sorrows in. ]
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With that, she walks off to get her sword, heading upstairs to talk to Beau. The bar is mostly empty so far, with no show tonight since the Ruby has taken some time off to be with Jester. There's plenty to drink, though, and a bartender who knows better than to ask questions. ]
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[ Because Molly won't get hurt. Fjord's carefully ale-brewed opinion is that Molly didn't feel half the pain he did last night so he can have all the time he wants to reflect on it ... and it's also becoming hard to stand without swaying, so it's about time to find a seat.
The peace of his brooding is interrupted by the evening entertainment of bards taking to the stage, the Chateau filling up as the evening kicks off. There are companions in the Chateau too, none as beguiling as the Ruby but clearly decorative beauties who know how to earn a wage from drunken patrons and stupid sailors, of which Fjord is currently both. They're all tieflings, because of course they fucking are to keep the kind of people happy who dream about Marion. What a theme. He really is back on the coast. One pretty girl with burgundy-red skin finds him stewing and sits in his lap with her floaty dress full of slits showing off her curves, brushing back his hair in a gesture which has his head nodding on her shoulder (and lower), eyelids heavy as the warmth of her tiefling body draws him in. If he dozes he can pretend it's the night before and Molly is the one in his arms ...
She even lets him rub his thumb over her spaded tail, cooing praise in his ear. A savvy saleswoman who knows an easy mark when she sees one, she agrees to stay and talk about anything to fill his silence, keeping him company for a gold coin.
He stops caring about much of anything after his fifth drink. ]
no subject
Drunk off his ass and holding a courtesan in his lap, touching her like he had touched him earlier, as if he misses it so much that he needs to hold someone at least similar. It would break Molly's heart if he wasn't so high, and instead he just gets annoyed that it isn't him.
He stumbles and the half-elf does his best to make sure Molly doesn't brain himself on anything on the way down, but that's about it. Once the tiefling's on the floor, he just turns to leave, muttering about crazy devil-bloods and their ilk.
Groaning, Mollymauk turns a bit, and is then helped to sit up by another of the courtesans. His nose is bleeding a bit and he grimaces as he tries to wipe it away. ]
Fjoord.
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He's fine, just. Wrecked. He clearly had the time for that.
Being a full-grown adult, Fjord lifts his tankard and takes a deep draught, pointedly looking away without a word. ]
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He gets about halfway before he falls on his face again. ]
M'stupid, Fjord.
[ He says, half-mumbled into the carpet. ]
But s'it good, ok? Cuz now... you won't leave me when I do stupid shit. I did.... I did stupid things. Bu... non... nothing with anyone. Couldn't... couldn't because they didn't smell like you. Wasn't you.
[ There's a half-crazed laugh on the floor as some of the bouncers are discussing if they can throw out Ms. Lavorre's personal guests or not. ]
I dunno how to love.
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It takes ten minutes but eventually Molly is laid out on his own bed and Fjord is sat on the end, catching his breath. It's quiet. The floor is swirling a bit between his feet. He tries not to think about anything Molly burbled downstairs, inwardly debating if he can make it back to his own room. ]
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The tiefling's hair is damp with what smells like whiskey and there's a strong floral scent all over him. His nose doesn't seem to want to let up and there's a few bruises, but he appears to be otherwise unharmed and unrobbed, all jewelry in place. ]
Yasha... he said he's falling in love with me.
[ He mumbles, eyes just a slight sliver of red under his lids. ]
He's falling in love with me and I'm a shit person who will only hurt him.
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Molly, it's me. You want some water?
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[ Molly groans and tries to sit up, failing terribly. ]
Y'gotta know... I'm not looking for something. There's this guy. Sorry.
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Here.
[ Passing him the glass of water from the bedside tray and making sure Molly is holding it. He wants to be the kind of friend that isn't interested in knowing the secret workings of Molly's mind and leaves him be, but in all likelihood Molly will never tell him anything once he rides out his high. ]
A guy, huh. You like him?
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(At least he gets some water into himself.) ]
Mm. I do.
[ He puts the water glass to his face to feel the coolness against his skin. ]
So much. It's weird, though, 'cuz... it's so quick and not so quick at the same time. He makes me happy.
[ Molly sways dangerously, water slipping out of his hand as he goes limp again. ]
Fjord, I'm sorry.
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You make him happy too, that's all he cares about.
[ He slumps on the outside of the fort, reaching for Molly's hand because why not. Everything's a mess anyway. ]
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[ Molly mumbles, and then seems to slide into unconsciousness of some type (hopefully sleep). He's well-protected in the pillow fort, though, and his hand comes to take Fjord's as soon as he's prompted to.
He's breathing fine, so it seems he's not risking an OD. Just shy of it, if his day and night had anything to prove. They're both in for a painful morning, physically and emotionally. ]
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[ There will be a Talk in the morning, preferably after breakfast. Fjord sleeps where he closes his eyes and before he knows it there is sunlight piercing his skull, rousing him from an uncomfortable position on his back from which he never once moved in the night. He's up before Molly, checking his pulse and temperature as lightly as he can. ]
no subject
His horns have dug a weird groove into the mattress and there's a lot of dried blood in the bed and on his face from the insistent nosebleed, which seems to have finally stopped completely.
Still a wreck, but at least less of one. ]
Mm...
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He sounds rough, hushing himself for the sake of not alarming his friend. ]
Stay still, you might feel sick if you move.
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[ Molly says, voice sounding like it's been through the grinder as well. His eyes open, and it's impossible to see if they're bloodshot or not, but they have a bit better glow to them than the night before. ]
Where am I?
[ He turns, but his stomach lurches at once as he does and he has to swallow several times to not throw up. ] Shit.
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