goldtoes | (no subject)

[ He didn't even protest when the Peacekeepers came for him.

Leif, five feet tall and eighty-seven pounds precisely, had been sitting at the table tearing bread apart with his fingers and dipping it into olive oil with cracked pepper, an old comfort food, when they banged on the door. He stood, navigated calmly to it, and stared up at them with green eyes that were fearless mostly in defeat more than in bravery. Come with us.]

Do I have time to pack some things? [ Not disinterested, but unconcerned. ]

No.

All right. [ He picks up the bag he keeps by the door and follows them, flanked two by two, a quadrant of faceless danger. They bring him to the train. District 11 will never see him again, but it doesn't matter. He has no one here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. Nothing much does anymore.

He sits against the window though there's no reason to, really, and watches out the window as the rest of his life rolls past and away from him. His vision's good enough to navigate, to identify faces and places, but the fact is that his cornea are so scarred over by now that they look like puddles of heavy cream, just a spill, an accident, something that was never supposed to happen in the first place --

The Capitol comes sooner than he expects, and there was never magic in it in the first place - not before, not as a tribute, not now as a victor, either. Not led in unbuckled overalls and flannel and a plain white t-shirt, not with his quadrant of peacekeepers doubled to a formation of eight that brought him like a well-earned prize, delivered him like a gift. Leif says nothing. ]

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From:

goldtoes

[ Fate? Maybe. Leif didn't really believe in it, but then, he didn't really believe in much at all. Up with the sun, work til midnight, and little more to life than that. He hadn't been selected for the first couple of years, and then he had, and, well, what was he supposed to do?

So he went in fully expecting to die. Whatever. He wasn't a Career, but Rhys had played his cards in just the right way, sent just the right anonymous packages and pulled just the right strings to make the arena sweep a handful of other tributes out of the way. Leif still fought, certainly, but Rhys had, too. ]

More than okay. [ A strange prospect, but he nodded - his ribs made a hollow thump as they were patted. ] The food's good, up here. [ Maybe just because there was enough of it. ]

From:

suncut

Is it? [ That makes Rhys smile. It's so foolish, but even the little bit of joy Leif experiences from decent food is enough to warm him. ] Ah- I didn't show you, did I? Here. [ He plants a kiss directly in the center of Leif's chest before steering him back carefully, so he can stand and offer an arm. ] Hold on to me for support. Try to keep weight off that ankle.

[ Rhys hasn't given him a proper tour!

He'll be doing so while... Leif is still undressed, apparently. But it's not like anyone can see them through the high-rise windows. Rhys seems entirely comfortable with so much of Leif's skin exposed anyhow, like it's completely natural. There must not be anything to be ashamed about.

First order of business- he shows Leif the kitchen, points out the pantry. There are appliances for cooking too, naturally, and a relatively simple-looking tablet on a stand on one of the counters, which he calls attention to. ] You might get the most use out of that. This building has something like room service, so if there are no leftovers and you're not in the mood to cook, this'll have a daily menu loaded on it. Place an order through here and it'll be brought up.

[ Stupid fancy shit. Easy access to meals at any hour, what a change. Rhys fluffs his fingers through Leif's curls, his voice a gentle command: ] Make sure you get anything you want. Any time of day or night, you don't have to ask me.

[ He's firm on the food thing, apparently. Especially if Leif is going to be off his shots from now on. If the chemical filters out of his system before his body has built up a reserve of strength, a heat might do him more harm than anything. ]

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif pads along at his side, quiet and silent. It's what kept him alive in the arena and what kept him from getting into the trouble back in the cherry trees. Now, without shoes, he makes no noise whatsoever; he could've been an incredible hunter some long, long time ago.

He says nothing, though he eyes the tablet with some sort of well-honed skepticism. ]

You realize I won't do that, right? I would've been shot dead for taking food. [ It's not intended to be snappy, and it isn't - just a statement of fact, even as he leans into Rhys and wraps both arms around his, still eyeing it. ] Also, I would like clothes. Not those ones, they're filthy. [ This is true. But - ] Can I have a shirt? One of yours.

From:

suncut

It's not taking. [ One of those pretty curls is gently tugged after he corrects Leif. ] It's a perk of living here, the service is already bought and paid for. [ Even so, he doesn't mind using it on Leif's behalf for a while, until he gets used to the concept.

It probably won't take all that long, he's already finding his voice and making his wants known. The request for a shirt, one of his own specifically, makes a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. ] Of course you can. Would you like to have a shower with me first? [ Might as well offer. If Leif feels like the clothes are filthy, it might apply to the rest of him too. ]

It'll only be a wash, I promise you. [ No funny business. Not yet. Not for a little while. ] Though you can have the bath while I take one instead, if you'd like. [ Both are in the same room, just separate units. It'll be a nice opportunity for Leif to ogle, in any case. ]

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif casts him a skeptical, sidelong glance, but he nods.

Some of him wants to take it apart and see how the insides work, but technology isn't his expertise. Watches, trinkets, jewelry. He can do these things. He's good at them. High end, Capitol electronics? No, he might set the whole place alight. ]

Yes, I would like that. [ He opens his mouth and shuts it again. No funny business. But Leif is still turning this idea of mating over in his head, half panicked about it and half wanting it because it means Rhys won't get rid of him, doesn't it? That's what he said. ] The shower is fine.

From:

suncut

[ Rhys tamps down a stupid grin. He may have a fit if he sees Leif trying to work one of the electronics for the first time. It's not his intention to make him feel bad or stupid, but he can just imagine it, and the image it calls up is something very similar to a little wildcat puffing and papping at something unfamiliar.

He's got to stop thinking about that fucking immediately before he laughs.

A shared shower is an excellent thing to focus on instead. Might be a decent time for them to revisit the mating topic, just to make the concept clearer to Leif. ] Right this way. [ He leads Leif on to the bedroom (that he assumes the both of them will share, because of course he hadn't thought to wonder if Leif would want his own private space), grabbing them both a few pieces of comfortable clothes on the way through to the bathroom.

It, too, is giant and immaculately clean. The shower stall itself has more than enough room for two people to move comfortably inside, and there's a small bench seat that can be moved about. There are a few handles, another damned tablet imbedded in the wall???, and multiple showerheads, though Rhys only turns on two- a wallmount, and an overhead rainfall. ]

You're welcome to go on inside. [ Rhys still needs to undress, which he's already in the process of. The water heats nearly instantly, and strangely enough, seems to carry a hint of fragrance. He'd picked one that he thought would compliment Leif's natural scent. ]

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif in his own space will be screaming into the dark, so it's best not to. Best to let him be with someone who is a stranger but who smells like safety and who seems to care for him, and even if he doesn't, it's better than being alone. Leif has been alone forever. He'll take this even if it means dying here. ]

Why, [ there's a note of actual disgust in his voice, judgment, with his nose crinkling as he steps underneath the water and his whole body shudders with the shock of just being comfortable, ] do you have a tablet in your shower.

[ Lord, these Capitol people were something else.

The heat hits him and between the fragrance of water and the warmth it draws his own scent out - herbal, woodsy, bright. Like a forest after a thunderstorm. He stands under it with his eyes closed and his head tilted up into it. ]

From:

suncut

[ Oh god. The loathing in Leif's voice... Rhys can't help it- he barks out a sudden laugh. ] It's a settings panel! You don't have to touch it, it's only for extras. [ The more mundane handles will work the water just fine.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of Leif letting himself soak in the experience as he steps in to the shower, and takes up a spot directly behind him. ] You look like you feel better already. [ His hands begin to comb Leif's wet hair back, away from his face.

The mingle of the water and Leif's magnified scent wraps around Rhys' senses like a blanket, and he sighs dreamily. It's a perfect combination, so unlike city air. It's organic and fresh, something he'd love to nestle against and breathe in... But he'd like to avoid inhaling water, so he grudgingly refrains. ]

From:

goldtoes

I do. [ He admits it readily, sighs and lays his head forward as Rhys strokes his hair - curls matted and tangled come free in his hands, gently loosening up. They'll look different, proper cleaned and conditioned, won't they? ]

It's ridiculous, you have screens for everything. [ But - is that fondness in his voice? Amusement, at the very least. He's got dimpled when he smiles. ] Even in your shower. Mother's mercy, it'll take getting used to.

From:

suncut

[ Leif and his curls are one in the same, all the knots loosening and relaxing under the water. He continues to comb his fingers through his head, separating the locks and letting Leif enjoy the simple friction of having his scalp scrubbed over for a little while. ]

You're tired of them already? Really? You haven't even seen the screens for the bed. [ Kidding. He's kidding! ]

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif laughs this awkward, silly little half-sob, a hiccup of a noise. He's been silent and teary and letting the water hide it, but Rhys makes him laugh, which he doesn't expect. ]

If I actually get in the bedroom and there are screens in there I might have to... to. I don't know. Cut the power or something.

From:

suncut

[ The sound is... strange, but it doesn't feel like Leif is in distress, so he lets it be. It has been a strange and confusing day for him, no doubt. Needing a moment to take it all in and properly feel it is understandable.

Rhys just smiles, voice gentle when he gives him a word of advice. ] Keep your eyes closed now. [ His hands pull away, and there's a click-and-snap of a bottle before his touch returns. He begins working a cool gel against Leif's head, easing it in to a lather. It's all part of a very predictable process: shampoo, rinse, condition, and Rhys is happy to take care of each and every step. ]

From:

goldtoes

All right. [ Rhys says close his eyes, and Leif does it.

He wonders briefly if there's some ulterior motive in all this. And then he thinks of the rain, in the arena, and Rhys is safe and solid behind him but what if he wasn't - what if he was a Career, and those hands nestled gently in his hair could move to snap his neck like that, quick and clean and one more cannonfire --

But he knows that's not where he is, even though the anxiety coils into his chest and he shakes a little, drawing in a measured breath and letting it out again. The panic rolls off him in waves, a subtle undercurrent creeping beneath natural scent.

He'll be something, though, when it's done. After he's calm again, and his hair is washed and dried, whatever those scruffy, tangled curls were are going to be something else entirely, soft like strawberry-blond cornsilk and bouncy in lazy spirals. ]

From:

suncut

[ The wet hiccup of a laugh had been odd...

This is worse. The shaking is minor, something he's willing to dismiss at first, but then the steam holds a sour bite of distress. Unease? No, more than that. It's sudden and sharp. Maybe outright panic or fear.

From what? ] Leif...?

[ Alarmed, Rhys begins to rinse the suds from Leif's hair. If something is happening, they don't need him burning the shit out of his eyes in the middle of it. ] Are you afraid?

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif nods, quiet, curt, as Rhys rinses his hair. He's already started to ground himself, pressing his heels into the tile, rotating through categories in his mind - naming electronic parts, just listing them, one by one, as many as he can think of so that his brain is full of tinkering and not terror. ]

Yes. [ He breathes, slow. ] But not of you. Just - the water and having my eyes closed, and it's sort of like, [ how does he explain this to a man of such privilege? He doesn't even know. ] Like I was back in the arena again.

From:

suncut

[ Leif has got the right idea. Being a man of such privilege, Rhys is having a difficult time making the connection. To him, it doesn't make sense, but what he fails to understand is that shock itself never makes sense. It doesn't follow logic or convenience.

He's unsure how to address such a thing. Saying this isn't the arena is pointless, because that's obvious, so he settles on the second absurd thought that pops in to his head. ] ...Are you calling my bathroom a swamp? [ Nailed it. ]

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif opens his eyes and stares blankly at the far wall. What the fuck. He remains silent for several moments, just processing. ]

If that's what you got out of what I said, this really is hopeless.

[ Alright, so maybe he wasn't the picture perfect submissive obdient omega. Leif had opinions, and he was going to share them whether Rhys wanted him to or not.]

From:

suncut

[ Rhys sighs. He can practically feel Leif becoming chilly with him, though he also feels a bit powerless to stop it. Are all omegas this capricious? He's not sure, really. He's never had one before. ]

Was I supposed to tell you that you're not in the arena? You know you're not. [ His hands settle on Leif's shoulders, a thumb rubbing over his water-warmed skin apologetically. ] It would've been an insult to your intelligence. [ Or so he assumes... ]

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif reaches up and rubs his face with both hands, in a way that is more defeated than exasperated. ]

No, that's not how this works.

[ This is true. He sighs, dropping his head forward as Rhys' thumb strokes his shoulder. ] Reassurance is helpful. It sounds stupid. But it's grounding. My brain doesn't know I'm not in the arena. It has nothing to do with... [ He waves his hands around, vaguely, as if to indicate just sort of everything. ]

From:

suncut

[ ...Oh.

Well, that makes no damned sense. Rhys frowns, brows furrowing as he makes notes to himself. All right, reassurance is what works. Even if it seems counter-productive or offensive... If it's what Leif needs, then so be it. He can make an effort to provide that.

While they're on the horrifically awkward subject, though, he supposes he can get away with learning more about Leif's... condition. ] Does it happen often?

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif huffs a tiny laugh, but he seems... better? Reassured, at least, by the question - that Rhys is making an effort to know it. Maybe it's because he's deciding whether or not to send Leif back down to the District, and his heart hurts at the thought of it.

It's very weird.]

The nightmares are worse. I'm never not scared, but sometimes it turns into... [ This, yes. ] This was mild. If that's not something you want to deal with, I understand.

From:

suncut

[ Rhys smiles, though there's not much humor or joy in it. His hand strays upwards, petting along the side of Leif's neck. ] Now you're the one who doesn't understand how this works. There is no not wanting to deal with it, because it is you. [ Again his hand moves, this time to the back of his neck. Gently digging in and rubbing at the tension at the base of Leif's skull.

At times he may end up confused or frustrated or at a loss for how to deal with Leif and his issues, but it's all tied together now. The drive to protect is unshakeable. Whatever hurts Leif will hurt Rhys- like hearing he's never not scared. That aches in a way he can't explain. Leif shouldn't feel that way, it's not right. ]

You'll be all right. The other victors turned out fine. [ No, they did not. He's just not close enough to them to see it. ] Do you think talking to a few of them would help?

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif hums, soft, like a purr as Rhys works tension and knots from his neck. ]

You're right, I don't understand. [ No one gave him the chance to, but he doesn't say this part. He laughs, suddenly. ]

They're not fine. They're as bad as me. Worse off, a couple of them. I met some of the mentors. I can see it in their eyes and I can smell the alcohol.

From:

suncut

[ Well, fuck. Rhys frowns, his hand faltering and pausing for a moment. Are they really not fine...? None of them?

Does that mean Leif will never be fine?

The thought is distressing. His other arm wraps around Leif, as if he's trying to protect him from the very idea, and then his hand begins to move again. Relieving Leif's tension while his own builds. ] I don't want you taking up that habit.

From:

goldtoes

[ Leif leans into him, sighing and relaxing a bit into his warmth and his coziness. He likes being with Rhys. His height, the way he smells, even the parts where he doesn't get it. He reaches up to wrap his fingers around his forearm, reassuring. ]

I won't. I have my ways of quelling the storm. That's not one of them.

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goldtoes

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goldtoes - NOTIFS PLEASE, not like this. I GOTCHU ill reply 2 both now

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