( He'll ensure he receives the proper wear after they talk to Sigewinne. He didn't think the area was so dangerous to cause harm like this and he's obviously trying to keep himself from limping. Wriothesley doesn't see him as weak because of it. He feels more responsible than anything. His hand lowers onto his hip and up to his ribcage so he can lift off some of his weight. The only reason he doesn't offer to carry him outright is because well, he knows the answer. )
We'll see what the nurse has to say and then we can move forward with any plans. I'd feel bad seeing you off to Sumeru again wounded under my watch.
( He keeps moving across the main hall. The entire Fortress is probably already aware of Kaveh's existence by now. Fantasy talk might help the pain for the time being, though. )
I'd love to hear your ideas now. After seeing the scans from your toolbox, what do you think should be the main priority?
[ Kaveh bites his lip, swallowing against the sudden flush of heat he feels creeping up his cheeks as Wriothesley's hand cups around the curve of his hip, then lifts to his ribcage. It's a more intimate hold than he feels comfortable accepting from someone who has made his lack of interest clear, especially when Kaveh has been so horribly unable to shake his own attraction— but he also knows there's no point trying to break free. His limp is real, whether from a poor choice of footwear or a broken pipe acting as an unexpected danger or simply clumsiness.
Besides, Wriothesley is right, isn't he? He's going back to Sumeru in just a couple of days,
isn't he?
..He'll focus on the question, instead of the arm wound at his side. ]
I'll need to go through and look at everything more closely later, but so far there are two things I think really need to be looked at: First, I want to find a way to improve the structure in such a way that it doesn't have to be in such a state of constant repair and renewal. That will require research and experimentation, though, and may be a longer-term project. More urgently is the state of some of the living quarters. Even if they're not all moldy and leaking, this place is cold, and I think it's possible to make your inmates more comfortable without treating them to luxury.
( To someone starving for true affection, it's normal to pass his concern or friendliness for another landslide of mixed signals. The culprit at play is in fact curiosity, and it is the attraction he tries to disguise with a true layer of concern. )
Treating for mold seems like the easier of the two, I can get someone in my network to handle the logistics on how to handle that. Sounds like the longer project will also involve more money, so I'll have to run numbers later tonight and come up with a budget.
( Unlike Kaveh, Wriothesley won't fantasize about idealism, but he does take safety seriously. When Sigewinne sees Kaveh's condition the moment they enter the office, she guides Wriothesley to have Kaveh sit on one of the beds. At least he's getting a true prison experience in this regard. No other tour could be as close as this one. Wriothesley watches from the side. )
Well? Is it sprained?
( Sigewinne shakes her head and goes to find some pain medication. )
This should do for now. I recommend not moving too much and resting your foot as much as possible until you're comfortable again. This cream will also help. His Grace is an expert when it comes to wrapping limbs, as you can see. He refuses to come in when he gets hurt. Hmph.
( Ah, she didn't have to say that. Wriothesley sighs and takes the other items, like the bandages and cream. )
Okay, but did I die? Hah. Come on, Kaveh. I can help you to my office. We can take a break for now and have some tea, too.
[ Wriothesley's words make him nod in thought, even if he has to fight back the urge to point out again that it's not just the mold, it's the state of the dormitories in general. First and foremost, the Duke has to work out a budget— only then can they argue about what needs to be done. For his part, Kaveh will spend the night researching materials and builds that will allow them to do what needs to be done in the safest, but most cost-efficient, way possible. And he probably shouldn't play his cards so soon, but he can't help the way he answers: ]
If your budget supports an earlier start, I may just stay in Fontaine for the time being. I have no major ongoing projects in Sumeru right now, and going home only to have to come back seems like a waste of time and money. [ Depending on the pay, though, he'll probably look into staying somewhere other than his mother's place, he thinks. Things are uncomfortable enough already.
Guided into the infirmary, Kaveh offers his best smile to Sigewinne, sitting down and watching in relative silence the interaction between the warden and the nurse, and then listening seriously to her recommendations for his own care.
(And he shoots a Look at Wriothesley when she mentions his refusal to care for himself properly. Not that he has any right to police the other man's self-care habits, but...) ]
Thank you, Miss Sigewinne. [ Kaveh smiles, and then lets Wriothesley help him back to his feet. He wants to spend more time here, question her about her facilities and what she would need from a remodel, but he's not about to further overstay his welcome when he's already done so in a thousand other ways. So he makes a mental note to ask her later, and then lets himself be guided toward the Duke's office. A break sounds good. ]
( Did Kaveh glare at him in the nursery or is he inhaling too much mold? A few inmates manage to get greetings out when they're walking back through the Administrative area: Good evening, Your Grace, is the most common one. Kaveh's figure is smothered by the oversized jacket but it doesn't mean some don't envy his beauty.
Once inside, he ensures Kaveh takes proper steps on the steep staircase. He doesn't make the same mistake twice and he refuses to see Kaveh hurt again. The stars have other plans. One of which includes Kaveh suddenly reeling back his choice to leave Fontaine in two days. Peculiar, really. As far as he can tell, Kaveh's living situation here doesn't strike him as comfortable. What does Wriothesley know about family, though? )
Easier if you sit at the desk instead.
( He slips away from Kaveh's side quite reluctantly so he can slide over a chair for himself. It's not weird to practically be seated between his knees with Kaveh's injured foot on his leg, is it? Not unless he makes it weird. If he were anyone else, he'd be doing the same.
So now to figure out the clasps on his shoes and how they come off: he has enough high-heel experience to easily find it and remove it from him. The shoe stays on the table. As he opens up the cream, he begins to wonder why Sigewinne didn't insist on keeping Kaveh in her office. The deep thought keeps his brows creased, fingers dipping into the small jar to then apply the anti-affirmatory cream around Kaveh's ankle. He traces around his bone and behind his Achilles tendon. Eyes flicker up at him. )
If you don't have any major projects, then I can always assign you a room here. It would take you at least two hours commuting every day if you're staying in the city and then we'd also need a letter from Neuvillette permitting you to go in and out as you please. Technically the entrance is still within his jurisdiction. Oh, you probably haven't met him, he's the Iudex. I can get that done easily if you don't want to stay here with all the deadly mold and treacherous pipes... Does this hurt, by the way?
[ It's something of a whirlwind; before long at all, Kaveh finds himself seated on Wriothesley's desk, foot resting on the other's thigh as he sits between his knees, and at any other time he might be a little drawn by the imagery of it, but right now he's overwhelmed and tired, not to mention embarrassed by the fuss his clumsiness has caused. So he sits in silence, eyes closed as the Duke's fingers work the cream into his skin forcing himself to focus on the words and not the pain.
And then Wriothesley makes some gentle jibe about the danger of the place, and Kaveh's eyes open, the crimson alight with curiosity for just a moment before a flash of annoyance takes his expression. ]
You are so—
[ But it's good-natured, at least as far as the poke of the warden's cheek would indicate, a playful jab against his scarred cheekbone, a flick of a neatly-manicured nail against the skin even as he genuinely considers the offer. In all honesty, it would make more sense to accept than not; hotels are expensive, and the travel time each day would wear on him quickly. But...
Ah. Wriothesley asked him a question. ]
It hurts, but not from you touching it, [ he says before he continues on in answer, his voice firm but friendly: ] I would need a guarantee that I'd have a room without mold. And I'd want some basic amenities too. Nothing fancy, and you can take it out of my pay if you want, but I won't live like a prisoner just to do a job. [ A pause as he tilts his head thoughtfully. ] Would I be able to leave once a week? Maybe just to get some fresh air, or maybe to go for drinks... I don't need freedom every day, but I'd like to not feel like I'm trapped here.
[ After all, it promises to be the most unique and interesting work he's taken on to date, but he doesn't want to feel like one of the prisoners kept here for breaking the laws of the land. ]
( He can't help a raspy laugh the moment Kaveh decides to probe his finger on his cheekbone, although internally he thinks it's bold of him. Perhaps this should be the extent of their touch, even if they both end up starving.
It shouldn't be this easy testing the limits of Kaveh's patience, playful as they currently are. Anybody else could probably point out how Wriothesley's voice is so marginally flirtatious when all is said and done. This is why consciously keeps his wit at bay, fearing it might bleed from playful banter to real flirting attempts. The truth is no one can ever tell the difference.
He wipes his hands on a cloth from the nursery and begins to work the gauze around his ankle, pressing lightly to ensure it sticks properly without cutting circulation. )
Since you'll be staying here, give me a day to send out a letter to the Chief Justice and we can arrange weekly entry. That also gives me time to write up a contract for us to sign.
( Kaveh's wishes only cement the idea in his head that this would never work after all. Kaveh needs to spread his wings, he needs the fresh air and he needs all the life the surface has to offer. He rolls the bandages underneath his heel and around the frame of his foot, ripping away the end of it once it's secure. He sits back against the chair, arms crossed and proud of his work. )
I'll see what I can do, but I'm afraid VIP rooms never existed in here and my room is, well, mine.
( He stands up and picks up any pieces of trash left behind, tossing them into the right bin by his desk. Something curious still itches for an answer, though. )
What do you mean by amenities?
( A pool? Personal gym? Yoga classes? Kaveh, you get food and a bed, what more else could you possibly want? )
[ Wriothesley's teasing is met with another roll of Kaveh's eyes, although it's good-natured and playful. Unlike the duke, he's not good at forcing himself to keep his natural flirtatiousness at bay, especially when he's talking to someone in whom he's so obviously interested; when he draws his hand back, it's not before he reaches to playfully— gently— tug at one of the other's helix piercings.
He falls silent again as the other sets about wrapping his ankle, explaining what he has to do next— and Kaveh nods, because everything makes sense—
Until it doesn't, and he looks up with yet another eyeroll. Didn't he just say that he doesn't need anything fancy? He's not asking for a VIP room, he just wants to be able to sleep comfortably when he's working here.
Well, if Wriothesley can tease... ]
Oh, you know, nothing too special. Round the clock room service, an on-call masseuse... [ He breaks off with a bright, amused laugh. ] I just want comfortable bedding. Warm. A bigger desk than what is usually offered— I need it for drafting. A coffee grinder wouldn't go astray. And... [ He pauses, wrinkling his nose. Honestly, this last one is possibly the most unreasonable, but he has to say it. ]
Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about being required to bathe in such a public setting.
[ His eyes drop, ostensibly focusing on his wrapped ankle as he tests it gingerly against the floor, even as he sits. ]
( The touch is dangerous, Kaveh. A surge of splintering heat is triggered with the innocent motion on his helix piercing. He covers up the jolt with a laugh, pulling away from him and stay busy fixing papers on the other side of his desk. Wild thoughts are like cotton between his ears, tuning onto Kaveh and all his demands.
He glances at him through his peripheral, airing another laugh. )
That’s fair. You don’t have to room near any inmates. Since you’re technically working here, you can have one of the rooms our staff uses. It’s slightly warmer and more comfortable, but sorry. We don’t have a masseuse in the premises.
( He holds his words back this time, keeping his good handiwork to himself. Navia always raves about how good he is massaging the stress out of her shoulders. )
I didn’t think you were the shy type. In that case, you can use my bathroom. I can go find an extra key to my room, you sit tight while I go get it.
[ Of course, he has no idea how badly he's affected the other. Wriothesley is a mystery to him, an unanswered question he desperately wants to understand even though he's accepted he probably never will. To him, this flirtatious banter is just that, a silly exchange between two people who have become friends despite his own desire for more. So he pouts playfully about the masseuse, offers a withering look in response to the comment about his being shy, and there's a rejoinder of sorts still trying to find its way to his lips when the warden gets up and leaves to get the key in question.
He should thank him— offering a key to his personal room is a little much even for a contractor who's also a friend, he thinks— but it's another thought that goes unfinished when a vibration against his chest startles him. ]
Oh. Shit.. Your Grace—
[ He fumbles in getting the phone from its pocket in Wriothesley's jacket, fingers accidentally brushing against the screen in a way that brings up not only the message thread that has caused the phone to vibrate, but one of the previous sent messages— a video, at that.
He would recognize those hands anywhere. And that groan, low and throaty and desperate as he fucks his own grip—
Kaveh's eyes are wild. He should put the phone down; instead, trembling fingers scroll back in the conversation, and then forward, watching the white of Wriothesley's pleasure spill thick over his own abdomen, reading the text accompanying it— "all yours."— seeing the lazily smiling face of an impossibly beautiful blonde, licking her own sheen from a sex toy.
His vision is blurring.
Fuck. Fuck. He comes back to himself too late, quickly exiting the conversation and dropping the phone on the desk like it's caught fire, and before he can stop himself he's wrestling a shoe on and slipping to his feet, wincing at the way the injury wants to make his ankle give out from under him. Wriothesley's jacket is draped over the desk, his arms folded protectively over his chest.
As soon as the other re-enters the room, Kaveh makes a weak little gesture in the direction of the phone. ] You got a message. Sorry. I, um. I have to go, but. I'll come back tomorrow about the contract just— just um, tell me when.
( It is out of the ordinary letting a contractor in the confines of his privacy. Not even Neuvillette has been in his room, and the ones who have conditions that extend the Fortress culture. He can’t always be the one visiting Navia on the surface so she makes the trip here.
Everybody needs a comfortable shower and privacy and Kaveh, as a worker, shouldn’t be subjected to all the restrictions inmates have.
He picks up the key from the front desk and walks back into his office. To his surprise, Kaveh is downstairs already, shoes on and jacket gone. This behavior is similar to someone crippled by panic— the stuttering and need for flight. He almost reaches for him to hold him back by his shoulder, but Wriothesley’s inhibition could handle war. )
I’ll go check it out, thanks. I have the key— are you in pain? We still have the rest of the tour to get through, my room included. The handles on the shower can be finicky.
( Words do fall on deaf ears. He can’t speak over Kaveh already making up his mind that this is all they both get for today. Besides, he still needs to write a contract, and run the budget numbers. Yet the way Kaveh’s voice sounds feels awry. Perhaps the Fortress is even more inappropriate for him than he expected. )
I'm fine— [ The words are bitten out, harsher and sharper on his tongue than Kaveh intends, evidence of the panic creeping under his skin moment by moment. He can't do this; he can't be near him any longer, not when he feels as if he's about to burst into tears at any moment.
He doesn't know who she is, but of course Wriothesley would go for someone like her. She's beautiful. Sexy. Her tone in text playful and sweet at the same time. Kaveh imagines that she can make him smile, bring warmth to the cold blue of his eyes. In his mind's eye he can see her splayed across his chest, fingers dancing over scars he can only imagine, sweet kisses coaxing ragged gasps from between his lips.
Fuck...
Why does he care so much? It's just a stupid fucking crush, there's no need for him to be getting this worked up over someone he already knew he couldn't have— ]
I'm fine. Sorry. I'm sorry, I just— I don't feel well. But I'm fine. I can make my way back to the dock. We can finish the tour tomorrow. Okay?
[ This time, he doesn't wait for an answer; he hurries from the room as well as he can on one good foot and one bad, hobbling more than he is walking, and it's probably frightfully obvious to Wriothesley just how not fine he is— but it doesn't matter. He just needs to be gone.
Somehow, he manages to keep the tears at bay until he's on the elevator leading back to the surface world. ]
( He’s obviously not fine, but Wriothesley doesn’t bother adding more pressure. He can smell an argument out of this, and besides— Kaveh is better off on the surface. What he holds back is his biting loneliness watching as his doors close again. This is why he doesn’t get attached.
As he’s climbing stairs again he realizes he already is. How many months has it been, even if they only speak mostly through text. It’ll be like a missing piece once Kaveh does decide to leave Fontaine.
He’s putting on his jacket while looking down at his phone, and when he flips it over he’s met with Navia’s beautiful face. Nude and sensual. The messages are opened on their chat, and suddenly he feels sick in his stomach.
He looks back at the stairs, short of breath. It’s not like he can catch up with him, but he can’t say he’s not unbothered that Kaveh took the liberty of browsing a private conversation without his consent.
Fuck.
He sits at this desk, briskly handling papers as if they deserve his violence. Then he rubs his temples while leaning down to watch the blankness of it. He could pretend he doesn’t know, but where will that take them?
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sempiternals2023-11-16 11:24 pm
no subject
We'll see what the nurse has to say and then we can move forward with any plans. I'd feel bad seeing you off to Sumeru again wounded under my watch.
( He keeps moving across the main hall. The entire Fortress is probably already aware of Kaveh's existence by now. Fantasy talk might help the pain for the time being, though. )
I'd love to hear your ideas now. After seeing the scans from your toolbox, what do you think should be the main priority?
no subject
Besides, Wriothesley is right, isn't he? He's going back to Sumeru in just a couple of days,
isn't he?
..He'll focus on the question, instead of the arm wound at his side. ]
I'll need to go through and look at everything more closely later, but so far there are two things I think really need to be looked at: First, I want to find a way to improve the structure in such a way that it doesn't have to be in such a state of constant repair and renewal. That will require research and experimentation, though, and may be a longer-term project. More urgently is the state of some of the living quarters. Even if they're not all moldy and leaking, this place is cold, and I think it's possible to make your inmates more comfortable without treating them to luxury.
no subject
Treating for mold seems like the easier of the two, I can get someone in my network to handle the logistics on how to handle that. Sounds like the longer project will also involve more money, so I'll have to run numbers later tonight and come up with a budget.
( Unlike Kaveh, Wriothesley won't fantasize about idealism, but he does take safety seriously. When Sigewinne sees Kaveh's condition the moment they enter the office, she guides Wriothesley to have Kaveh sit on one of the beds. At least he's getting a true prison experience in this regard. No other tour could be as close as this one. Wriothesley watches from the side. )
Well? Is it sprained?
( Sigewinne shakes her head and goes to find some pain medication. )
This should do for now. I recommend not moving too much and resting your foot as much as possible until you're comfortable again. This cream will also help. His Grace is an expert when it comes to wrapping limbs, as you can see. He refuses to come in when he gets hurt. Hmph.
( Ah, she didn't have to say that. Wriothesley sighs and takes the other items, like the bandages and cream. )
Okay, but did I die? Hah. Come on, Kaveh. I can help you to my office. We can take a break for now and have some tea, too.
no subject
If your budget supports an earlier start, I may just stay in Fontaine for the time being. I have no major ongoing projects in Sumeru right now, and going home only to have to come back seems like a waste of time and money. [ Depending on the pay, though, he'll probably look into staying somewhere other than his mother's place, he thinks. Things are uncomfortable enough already.
Guided into the infirmary, Kaveh offers his best smile to Sigewinne, sitting down and watching in relative silence the interaction between the warden and the nurse, and then listening seriously to her recommendations for his own care.
(And he shoots a Look at Wriothesley when she mentions his refusal to care for himself properly. Not that he has any right to police the other man's self-care habits, but...) ]
Thank you, Miss Sigewinne. [ Kaveh smiles, and then lets Wriothesley help him back to his feet. He wants to spend more time here, question her about her facilities and what she would need from a remodel, but he's not about to further overstay his welcome when he's already done so in a thousand other ways. So he makes a mental note to ask her later, and then lets himself be guided toward the Duke's office. A break sounds good. ]
no subject
Once inside, he ensures Kaveh takes proper steps on the steep staircase. He doesn't make the same mistake twice and he refuses to see Kaveh hurt again. The stars have other plans. One of which includes Kaveh suddenly reeling back his choice to leave Fontaine in two days. Peculiar, really. As far as he can tell, Kaveh's living situation here doesn't strike him as comfortable. What does Wriothesley know about family, though? )
Easier if you sit at the desk instead.
( He slips away from Kaveh's side quite reluctantly so he can slide over a chair for himself. It's not weird to practically be seated between his knees with Kaveh's injured foot on his leg, is it? Not unless he makes it weird. If he were anyone else, he'd be doing the same.
So now to figure out the clasps on his shoes and how they come off: he has enough high-heel experience to easily find it and remove it from him. The shoe stays on the table. As he opens up the cream, he begins to wonder why Sigewinne didn't insist on keeping Kaveh in her office. The deep thought keeps his brows creased, fingers dipping into the small jar to then apply the anti-affirmatory cream around Kaveh's ankle. He traces around his bone and behind his Achilles tendon. Eyes flicker up at him. )
If you don't have any major projects, then I can always assign you a room here. It would take you at least two hours commuting every day if you're staying in the city and then we'd also need a letter from Neuvillette permitting you to go in and out as you please. Technically the entrance is still within his jurisdiction. Oh, you probably haven't met him, he's the Iudex. I can get that done easily if you don't want to stay here with all the deadly mold and treacherous pipes... Does this hurt, by the way?
no subject
And then Wriothesley makes some gentle jibe about the danger of the place, and Kaveh's eyes open, the crimson alight with curiosity for just a moment before a flash of annoyance takes his expression. ]
You are so—
[ But it's good-natured, at least as far as the poke of the warden's cheek would indicate, a playful jab against his scarred cheekbone, a flick of a neatly-manicured nail against the skin even as he genuinely considers the offer. In all honesty, it would make more sense to accept than not; hotels are expensive, and the travel time each day would wear on him quickly. But...
Ah. Wriothesley asked him a question. ]
It hurts, but not from you touching it, [ he says before he continues on in answer, his voice firm but friendly: ] I would need a guarantee that I'd have a room without mold. And I'd want some basic amenities too. Nothing fancy, and you can take it out of my pay if you want, but I won't live like a prisoner just to do a job. [ A pause as he tilts his head thoughtfully. ] Would I be able to leave once a week? Maybe just to get some fresh air, or maybe to go for drinks... I don't need freedom every day, but I'd like to not feel like I'm trapped here.
[ After all, it promises to be the most unique and interesting work he's taken on to date, but he doesn't want to feel like one of the prisoners kept here for breaking the laws of the land. ]
no subject
( He can't help a raspy laugh the moment Kaveh decides to probe his finger on his cheekbone, although internally he thinks it's bold of him. Perhaps this should be the extent of their touch, even if they both end up starving.
It shouldn't be this easy testing the limits of Kaveh's patience, playful as they currently are. Anybody else could probably point out how Wriothesley's voice is so marginally flirtatious when all is said and done. This is why consciously keeps his wit at bay, fearing it might bleed from playful banter to real flirting attempts. The truth is no one can ever tell the difference.
He wipes his hands on a cloth from the nursery and begins to work the gauze around his ankle, pressing lightly to ensure it sticks properly without cutting circulation. )
Since you'll be staying here, give me a day to send out a letter to the Chief Justice and we can arrange weekly entry. That also gives me time to write up a contract for us to sign.
( Kaveh's wishes only cement the idea in his head that this would never work after all. Kaveh needs to spread his wings, he needs the fresh air and he needs all the life the surface has to offer. He rolls the bandages underneath his heel and around the frame of his foot, ripping away the end of it once it's secure. He sits back against the chair, arms crossed and proud of his work. )
I'll see what I can do, but I'm afraid VIP rooms never existed in here and my room is, well, mine.
( He stands up and picks up any pieces of trash left behind, tossing them into the right bin by his desk. Something curious still itches for an answer, though. )
What do you mean by amenities?
( A pool? Personal gym? Yoga classes? Kaveh, you get food and a bed, what more else could you possibly want? )
no subject
He falls silent again as the other sets about wrapping his ankle, explaining what he has to do next— and Kaveh nods, because everything makes sense—
Until it doesn't, and he looks up with yet another eyeroll. Didn't he just say that he doesn't need anything fancy? He's not asking for a VIP room, he just wants to be able to sleep comfortably when he's working here.
Well, if Wriothesley can tease... ]
Oh, you know, nothing too special. Round the clock room service, an on-call masseuse... [ He breaks off with a bright, amused laugh. ] I just want comfortable bedding. Warm. A bigger desk than what is usually offered— I need it for drafting. A coffee grinder wouldn't go astray. And... [ He pauses, wrinkling his nose. Honestly, this last one is possibly the most unreasonable, but he has to say it. ]
Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about being required to bathe in such a public setting.
[ His eyes drop, ostensibly focusing on his wrapped ankle as he tests it gingerly against the floor, even as he sits. ]
no subject
( The touch is dangerous, Kaveh. A surge of splintering heat is triggered with the innocent motion on his helix piercing. He covers up the jolt with a laugh, pulling away from him and stay busy fixing papers on the other side of his desk. Wild thoughts are like cotton between his ears, tuning onto Kaveh and all his demands.
He glances at him through his peripheral, airing another laugh. )
That’s fair. You don’t have to room near any inmates. Since you’re technically working here, you can have one of the rooms our staff uses. It’s slightly warmer and more comfortable, but sorry. We don’t have a masseuse in the premises.
( He holds his words back this time, keeping his good handiwork to himself. Navia always raves about how good he is massaging the stress out of her shoulders. )
I didn’t think you were the shy type. In that case, you can use my bathroom. I can go find an extra key to my room, you sit tight while I go get it.
no subject
He should thank him— offering a key to his personal room is a little much even for a contractor who's also a friend, he thinks— but it's another thought that goes unfinished when a vibration against his chest startles him. ]
Oh. Shit.. Your Grace—
[ He fumbles in getting the phone from its pocket in Wriothesley's jacket, fingers accidentally brushing against the screen in a way that brings up not only the message thread that has caused the phone to vibrate, but one of the previous sent messages— a video, at that.
He would recognize those hands anywhere. And that groan, low and throaty and desperate as he fucks his own grip—
Kaveh's eyes are wild. He should put the phone down; instead, trembling fingers scroll back in the conversation, and then forward, watching the white of Wriothesley's pleasure spill thick over his own abdomen, reading the text accompanying it— "all yours."— seeing the lazily smiling face of an impossibly beautiful blonde, licking her own sheen from a sex toy.
His vision is blurring.
Fuck. Fuck. He comes back to himself too late, quickly exiting the conversation and dropping the phone on the desk like it's caught fire, and before he can stop himself he's wrestling a shoe on and slipping to his feet, wincing at the way the injury wants to make his ankle give out from under him. Wriothesley's jacket is draped over the desk, his arms folded protectively over his chest.
As soon as the other re-enters the room, Kaveh makes a weak little gesture in the direction of the phone. ] You got a message. Sorry. I, um. I have to go, but. I'll come back tomorrow about the contract just— just um, tell me when.
no subject
( It is out of the ordinary letting a contractor in the confines of his privacy. Not even Neuvillette has been in his room, and the ones who have conditions that extend the Fortress culture. He can’t always be the one visiting Navia on the surface so she makes the trip here.
Everybody needs a comfortable shower and privacy and Kaveh, as a worker, shouldn’t be subjected to all the restrictions inmates have.
He picks up the key from the front desk and walks back into his office. To his surprise, Kaveh is downstairs already, shoes on and jacket gone. This behavior is similar to someone crippled by panic— the stuttering and need for flight. He almost reaches for him to hold him back by his shoulder, but Wriothesley’s inhibition could handle war. )
I’ll go check it out, thanks. I have the key— are you in pain? We still have the rest of the tour to get through, my room included. The handles on the shower can be finicky.
( Words do fall on deaf ears. He can’t speak over Kaveh already making up his mind that this is all they both get for today. Besides, he still needs to write a contract, and run the budget numbers. Yet the way Kaveh’s voice sounds feels awry. Perhaps the Fortress is even more inappropriate for him than he expected. )
At least let me escort you back to the dock.
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He doesn't know who she is, but of course Wriothesley would go for someone like her. She's beautiful. Sexy. Her tone in text playful and sweet at the same time. Kaveh imagines that she can make him smile, bring warmth to the cold blue of his eyes. In his mind's eye he can see her splayed across his chest, fingers dancing over scars he can only imagine, sweet kisses coaxing ragged gasps from between his lips.
Fuck...
Why does he care so much? It's just a stupid fucking crush, there's no need for him to be getting this worked up over someone he already knew he couldn't have— ]
I'm fine. Sorry. I'm sorry, I just— I don't feel well. But I'm fine. I can make my way back to the dock. We can finish the tour tomorrow. Okay?
[ This time, he doesn't wait for an answer; he hurries from the room as well as he can on one good foot and one bad, hobbling more than he is walking, and it's probably frightfully obvious to Wriothesley just how not fine he is— but it doesn't matter. He just needs to be gone.
Somehow, he manages to keep the tears at bay until he's on the elevator leading back to the surface world. ]
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As he’s climbing stairs again he realizes he already is. How many months has it been, even if they only speak mostly through text. It’ll be like a missing piece once Kaveh does decide to leave Fontaine.
He’s putting on his jacket while looking down at his phone, and when he flips it over he’s met with Navia’s beautiful face. Nude and sensual. The messages are opened on their chat, and suddenly he feels sick in his stomach.
He looks back at the stairs, short of breath. It’s not like he can catch up with him, but he can’t say he’s not unbothered that Kaveh took the liberty of browsing a private conversation without his consent.
Fuck.
He sits at this desk, briskly handling papers as if they deserve his violence. Then he rubs his temples while leaning down to watch the blankness of it. He could pretend he doesn’t know, but where will that take them?
From one dead end to another?
God damn it, Kaveh. )