logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: COTTON CANDY HEARTS

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: COTTON CANDY HEARTS

characters: everyone.
location: amusement park.
date/time: august 17 - 31.
content: time to enjoy a little time at the carnival!
warnings: n/a. please use cw tags as needed.

oh come, take my hand, and run through playland...

It's clear in the past two days of fevered work, the spirits are up to something. Collecting rainbow wigs and pinstriped jackets, gathering food and preparing decorations. There's no getting them to reveal the secret, though — any attempt to ask only results in an ominous gesture of silence. However, characters won't have to worry about what the spirits are up to for too long, as on the start of the 17th each and every resident of Beacon will be delivered a note, inviting them to come out and enjoy themselves at the Amusement Park.

ALL FUN AND GAMES.

Over the last few days, some of the food tucked away in the General Store, The Invincible's stock room, and the kitchens of The Landmark may have gone missing - but not to worry, because here it is, all stocked at little booths within the amusement park, ready for sampling! The enticing aromas of fried batter and sugar wafts through the air, no matter where you are in the park. Find old favorites, from funnel cakes to fried pickles, popcorn to whole turkey legs - or try something new! Ever had a corn dog wrapped in curly fries? How about a deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a stick? One spirit, currently chewing on a crispy battered pine cone, even offers a unique suggestion - bring it anything you like and it will deep fry it for you. You do have to eat it, though, that's the catch, or the spirit will be very irate and might take something of yours later to deep-fry and leave on your pillow. Don't waste good food!

At the end of the row, tables have been covered in classy checkered red-and-white tablecloths, and piled with ingredients, and it looks like ovens formerly belonging to some ruined village housing have been dragged all the way out here and plugged in, and are now waiting and ready. There's flour (all purpose, pastry, chickpea, and others, and - no, that's just a pile of sand on that plate), plenty of butter and sugar and spices, all sorts of summer fruits, and more. It's a pie making contest! The judge is the Lunch Lady spirit, who hmms and ahhs and ohhhhs wisely as they pace back and forth along the tables, observing the pies being made and occasionally taking tiny little samples with tiny little forks when the pies are baked. How will they decide the winner? That's their secret, for now!

But their delicate little tasting session has left the pies mostly unscathed, which means it's time for the pie eating contest! A rowdy quartet of squirrel-like spirits cheers everyone on who wishes to participate, and they squeak and chatter at participants, bringing pie after pie after pie directly to whoever walks over. How many can you get down?

If food isn't your style, though, carnie spirits host a number of games scattered throughout the park. They whistle and wave you over, jump on your shoulder if small or yell at you with animated limbs from above if quite tall, urging in their musical tones for anyone and everyone to come on down and give the games a try! Toss balls at a set of colorful stacked bottles, and see how many you can knock down in a single throw, with candy and costume jewelry for rewards. Fling a ring into a booth and land it around the head of the stuffed animal you want to win, if your aim is good enough. There's even a duo dunk tank set up - over a large tub, two chairs are suspended, each with an attached bucket of softballs and a target over the head of the chair. You and a friend get to climb in and see who can dunk who first!

MUST BE THIS TALL TO RIDE.

A carnival isn't a carnival without some rides to test your bravery with, is it? Past where the food booths and skill games are set up, there are a selection of them set up, all providing various levels of thrills. There's a roller coaster, of course, that's been constructed of wood and makes a loud rattling noise as it drives you through the loops and hills. There's also a tilt-a-whirl, a gravitron, and a log flume, if you're still feeling the effects of the heat wave.

For those less interested in thrill seeking, there are also slightly tamer rides, like the bumper cars, a ferris wheel, and the tunnel of love. All of these rides have the innate feeling of danger that you'd find at any theme park or carnival, but they operate quite safely, albeit with some creaking.

COTTON CANDY HEARTS.

Away from the fun and excitement, the Fun House has also come back to life. There's something a great deal more ominous about it than the rest of the celebration, however — in fact, spirits will actively attempt to steer residents away. However, those determined to explore can still find their way inside.

To start, it doesn't seem that abnormal. A mirrored maze, flashing lights and creepy music. However, as they travel through the mirrored halls, they'll notice something. Their reflection doesn't necessarily follow their movements. Actually, it seems like it is trying to get closer. Maybe that isn't their reflection at all?

Trapped and lost in the maze, eventually the reflections will become full-fledged matching doppelgängers of any character that entered. It's hard to tell the difference between the fake and the actual thing, though the doppelgängers will not speak, only chase — and chase aggressively. They will grow more and more aggressive in trying to reach their double, willing to go through potential distractions if they have to. Cutting them down seems ineffective at best; as long as there are reflections, the doubles will keep coming, growing more and more bloodied as they "die". Ultimately, they will not stop until characters exit the maze or they reach their exact match.

As they reach their match, they will reach out and grab their heart. Literally, hand through the chest and everything. It's as excruciatingly painful as it sounds. The doppelgänger will smile a demented, satisfied grin, and disappear immediately after without a trace. Any character that got nabbed by their double will suffer from lantern malfunctions for the rest of the event. You're more than welcome to pick what malfunction and to what extent!

FIND YOUR FORTUNE

Characters that have braved wandering outside the relative warmth and activity of the the celebration will find the rest of the amusement park still a little grim. Dark, worn down, abandoned. Plenty of the rides seem ominous at best and dangerous at worst. In their searching, characters are likely to happen upon a fortune teller lingering in the shadows.

If they are brave enough to approach, they'll find there is no need for a coin. Upon spotting them, the fortune teller will creak into motion, offering a spiel in a slightly monotone robotic voice. It's a little unnerving, though what is the worst a robotic fortune teller can really do?

Well, it turns out, every fortune the fortune teller provides always comes true. Some of them are harmless, like a prediction that they will win their next game of darts or find a cherry in their blueberry pie. Some will get far more grim fortunes, that they will find glass in their next drink or that they will step on a nail. Worst of all are fortunes that essentially force a character to do what they would normally wouldn't, like confessing a dark secret to the next person they see.

While you are welcome to make up your fortune, you are also able to put your character's name here to get a mod-generated fortune. There will be potential clues for future explores in these fortunes, though there is also a chance of receiving something else, such as an injury or a strange happenstance. No one will receive death in their fortune!

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The touch sends a jolt down his spine, even before there are fingers in his hair. It's not as if Will is averse to touch, but here in Beacon, he's rarely let anyone close enough to put a hand on him, good-intentioned or otherwise. There's a tiny spark of fear, but it gives way quickly to something else entirely.

The compliments are childish at best, but the sentiment behind them is clear, and god has it been so long since someone looked at him with anything resembling desire. It's a bit startling, really, how much he enjoys this simple gesture, how much he wants more.

He shouldn't be doing this, he knows. He's managed two years of abstinence in this place where trust comes at a premium. But they do trust each other, don't they? He doesn't like to dwell on it, but if push came to shove, he knows he could rely on Rosinante for just about anything. And more importantly, that he would.

This isn't dangerous. He can have this, can't he?

"Tell me more." His voice is softer now, and he's not entirely sure it's intentional. Technically this could still just be playful joking, but it certainly doesn't sound like it.

Somewhere in the background a spirit is probably scolding them for not coming to pick up their prizes, but Rosinante isn't aware of it. For one of those rare moments his full attention is on Will before him and nothing else in the world matters.

One of the many reasons he's never particularly sought out a relationship. Dangerous stuff in his line of work. But Beacon remains safer than his own world in so many ways, when it comes to the people around him.

This slouch is eventually going to cramp his neck, so he sinks to his knees, putting their faces almost at the same height - and actually, it's fun to look up at Will just slightly. His fingers continue to move, tangling in his hair and then tracing up against the back of his head, and down the nape of his neck.

"Well," he says, "You're one of the smartest people I think I've ever known. I love watching you work, how you get so serious and focused on what you're doing. Problems aren't just problems, they're puzzles, and you're so good at solving them. You get this look, when you concentrate, and then you light up when you figure it out..."

His left hand is feeling useless, so he settles that one against Will's back lightly. "I want to hold you but I'm not sure I'm allowed to," he says as his thoughts once again just jump out of his mouth before he can stop them.

Oh, this is lovely. The flattery, the proximity, the gentle touching for touching's sake. Will's missed it for even longer than he realized. Without much thought, he lets his hands wander out, softly cupping Rosinante's face, one thumb brushing over his lips.

He can't waste this, but he doesn't want to rush it either. He's sure the chance won't present itself so easily again. He's got to maneuver this carefully, to push things gently forward to the desired end.

But then... what is the desired end, here?

Back home, this scenario always led to one thing, and he's reasonably certain that if he plays his cards right, he could get it here. But back home, all of his physical encounters with others were nothing more than fleeting and hollow. A way to scratch an itch. A means to an end. Just something he did to pass the time, because it was fun and it felt good and it didn't mean anything.

This means something, doesn't it?

Will studies Rosinante's face. His eyes, and the unbridled delight shining behind them. Rosinante wasn't just talking about Will's appearance, he was talking about him. As a person. No one does that for just a shallow, physical event. For Rosinante, this is important, this is deep and emotional. And here Will is, all ready to take advantage of that, to likely shatter a trust that wasn't easy to win for either of them. He was about to use someone he actually gives a shit about, and worse still, he feels guilty about it.

His hands drop back to his sides, and his gaze slides down to the ground. Where there was an open, even inviting posture, now he's closed himself up like a vault.

"I... we shouldn't do this. Not with—" He makes a vague gesture. Not with the fortune teller's curse, not while riding the surreal high they've gotten from circumstances they'd never be in on their own terms. Not like this.

He's aching for this more than he thought he could. Far too rarely in his life has he had an interest in anyone; the bulk of the few encounters he's had were temporary and unsatisfying. Left him wondering if maybe relationships weren't for him at all, and he was able to accept that given the nature of his work. If you can't be yourself, how can you really be with someone?

Somehow, Beacon has shown him that there's hope. There's at least one person who he can connect with, and he feels beyond fortunate that Will is interested in him as well. He closes his eyes at the touch on his face, breathes a soft huff of air through his lips, and nearly chases that hand with them as they withdraw. He wants to know what it's like to kiss someone and mean it.

But Will leaves him longing, and a little confused, until he looks around and remembers where they are. That's probably what he means, right? Sharing this moment in the middle of a very public carnival is pretty awkward.

"Right, yeah," he says, agreeing even if he's disappointed, and lets his hands return to his sides as well. "Do you want to go somewhere else? Before that forest spirit starts trying to throw those stuffed animals at our heads?"

He glances over at the masked creature, which actually looks about ready to give up on them and return the prizes to its stand, then offers Will a slightly more muted smile. "I hope that's-" he starts, then cuts himself off with a serious effort.

Because he really, really hopes that "we shouldn't do this" doesn't mean something harder to hear.

Truth be told, Will forgot where they were until the two of them separated a bit. He doesn't mind so much, really, being flirtatious in public. He's done it before, and he's sure he'll do it again.

Though he'll admit he's not so keen on being seen displaying so much raw emotion in front of others.

"Somewhere else, yes." Where else? It doesn't matter, really. Though... he does worry that Rosinante may just want to continue this elsewhere. There's not much Will would love more than to do just that, but it still doesn't sit quite right.

... And unfortunately, he isn't entirely certain he can trust himself to stick to his decision, especially once they're alone.

"Somewhere we can talk." And just talk. Maybe.

"We're not far from your place," Rosinante points out. Closer than The Invincible, and more private. "I think we probably both have plenty to say, hm?"

Again, trying to just remain positive. His feelings have grown slowly over at least the last few months and only recently has he really begun to recognize them for what they are. But Will? Did all of this take him by surprise, or did he see it coming? He seems interested, but Rosinante knows how hard-earned his trust has been and if he's worried about anything at all, now is the time to get that out.

Well, maybe. Again, it's not like he really knows how this usually goes or what he's doing. He's good at people when he's able to remain detached and this is entirely different. He stands and adjusts the hang of his lantern, then waits with hands on his hips for Will to either agree or suggest somewhere else, while trying to read the expression on his face.

To his place. Ah. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, but it does seem like somewhere he'd normally go to engage in the more carnal sort of "conversation".

He can control himself, of course. He's not an animal. But if Rosinante starts in again with all that soft hair and blue eyes and whatnot, it's going to be difficult. He hates denying himself something that he wants. It's such a foreign concept. But he's denying himself because he wants it. Just... not like this.

"That will do just fine, yes." He nods, trying to keep his uncertainty out of his expression. What does Rosinante mean by "we both have plenty to say"? And more importantly, why has something that started out so effortless become so complex?

Unsure of what else to do, he takes the lead. It is his house, after all. Assuming they even manage to wait that long before starting.

Will starts off, so Rosinante follows, equal parts optimistic and yet terribly confused. Insecurity sinks in with every step, and that's the last thing he wants right now. He'd taken a bold leap, thanks in part to the fortune teller's strange inflicted compulsion to speak his mind, but also because, well - when you want something, you have to do something about it. He trusts Will, and let himself be vulnerable, let the flirting go where it would. "Hope I didn't make a mistake," he says as his thoughts again just sneak away from him and into the open.

"I mean-" he then practically interrupts himself immediately. "That's not the sort of thing I wanted to say. I'll wait, see if I can get my head together enough to get around this fortune teller stuff. If I don't say anything for a while, it's just so we can get to your place without my tongue acting on its own."

He gives a derisive snort, then stumbles to the ground before picking himself up and carrying on. Might just have to calm himself, nothing kills the mood like endless waves of self-doubt and self-deprecation. Instead he thinks of that brief, beautiful moment with Will's hands on his face and holds onto it.

Well, it would seem they're not going to make it to his place after all. Will can't stand this ridiculous silence, punctuated only by Rosinante's escaping thoughts, and the most recent of those escaping thoughts has just made it even more unbearable. He only gets a few more steps before he stops and turns.

They're out of the carnival, at least, and they're alone. It's not the privacy of his little house with one of those bubbles of silence around it, but it'll have to do. Unlike Rosinante, he's never been good at keeping his words to himself, for better or worse.

Will turns suddenly, standing straight so that he can look up better.

"You didn't make a mistake," he says flatly. A statement of fact. "You didn't even do anything wrong. Or anything I didn't want you to do." It irritates him, for reasons he can't name, that Rosinante might see himself as the problem here. "None of that is—" Is what? What is he even trying to say here?

He feels like he's being pulled in two directions by two very different parts of himself: the part that's always blunt and honest, and the part that surrounds his real thoughts in a barbed wire fence. The need to speak his mind and the need to protect himself. But protect him from what?

"I don't do this." He makes another vague gesture, trying to indicate the space between them. "I don't do... whatever this is. What I do with other people, it's just— it doesn't mean anything. And I don't want—" I don't want to ruin this. But those words he manages to keep. All that comes out is a frustrated sigh.

He starts over, finally giving in to that brutally honest side of himself, as he eventually always does.

"I use people, you know. You have to know that, you're not stupid, and you've practically been in my head. I don't get into relationships, I get into temporary agreements with people who haven't known me long enough to realize the sort of person I am. Or people who are just as uninvested, only looking for the same thing. But this—" whatever it is— "You started at the other end. You know what I'm like, yet here you are."

Giving him compliments. Touching him. Practically asking to do more.

"I don't want to... I don't want to turn this into—" He can't find the words anymore. He's never had to articulate this particular emotion, and he doesn't even know how to name it. It's infuriating.

"Your head's not where it's supposed to be," he finally spits out. "I can't do to you what I do to everyone else."

Good news is that sheltering them both in silence can be done anywhere. Bad news is they're far away enough from other buildings where Rosinante isn't sure it's safe to not hear whatever might be coming for them from within the woods, so he holds off, and hopes they're mostly alone. That will just have to do.

Will talks, and he listens. Manages to hold his thoughts in long enough to keep from interrupting with small apologies and rebuttals. Thankfully the fortune teller didn't curse him to act on physical impulses as well, or he'd be right back to where he was minutes ago, on his knees trying to hug the poor guy despite his protests.

But the moment Will stops talking, he just can't keep his mouth shut anymore. That's the one real problem right now as he sees it, for he's terrified of saying something to put Will off and he's very thankful he can drop into dead silence in an instant if he actually has to but there's no guarantee he'd be able to before some hideously stupid comment gets out first.

"I'm glad you're worried about me," he says, managing to keep himself and his voice relaxed despite his anxiously-racing heart. "I think I see a different side of you than you're used to seeing of yourself. You're not afraid for yourself, you're afraid of hurting me. That's already different from how you've treated other people before."

For a moment, he fumbles through his pockets and finds a cigarette. Been a while, and he's hoping it will help calm his nerves. With one in hand, though, he pauses before taking the time to light it and looks at Will again.

"I don't normally do this either. So I don't really know what it means, that this is different, but it's different for both of us. I just know that despite wherever you think my head ought to be, apparently it's here. Making a fool of myself while I try and take this chance, because whoever you've been in the past, that's not who you are now. Not who you have to be forever."

Is that helpful? Who the hell knows. He's a little lost too despite the words that keep tumbling out. Time to get this cigarette lit and in his mouth - and as has become habit, he holds the pack out for Will also. If this is all his ridiculous crush amounts to and this attempt at something more ends here, then at least they can still be friends, hopefully.

Will lets out a deep breath that he didn't realize he was holding. His shoulders slump a little. He feels... spent. This amount of emotional effort has completely drained him. He's not used to it.

He wants to argue. You're wrong. I haven't changed at all. But he doesn't have the energy and anyway... Rosinante's right. How often has he caught himself thinking about how unlike him all this is? How strange it feels to be concerned about someone other than himself for once, to trust someone beyond mere necessity. At the start he could've attributed it to desperation, to his need for comfort in this unforgiving place. But it's gone well beyond that now, and he'd be in denial if he said otherwise.

Will cranes his head back to stare past Rosinante, not really at the stars, not really at anything in particular. He heaves out another sigh, though the end of it is something more like laughter.

"What the hell are we doing?" He runs a hand through his hair. "Look at us, two grown adults who don't even know how to make the simplest human connection. It's almost as if there's something wrong with us." Which is sarcasm, of course. There's a lot wrong with them. In this moment at least, he's not too proud to admit that.

He accepts the cigarette. He could really use it.

"I don't want to make any guarantees. I don't want to promise you anything." He forces the next part out before he can second-guess it. "But we can try. To keep this going, whatever it is, while acknowledging its existence. Neither of us know what we're doing, so at least we'll be on even ground."

Here he had been bracing to be let down as gently as he can imagine Will letting anyone down. Instead, his smile creeps cautiously back onto his face with every word, true as they are. Yes, there's plenty wrong with both of them, but at least they're wrong in ways that are mirrored in each other. He still knows more about Will than Will knows about him when it comes to those past issues - but maybe, with this, he'll find a way to explain, so they both know what ground the other is standing on.

When he sighs, it's with relief and buoyed hopes. After a draw from the cigarette, he steps closer, enough to rest his hand on Will's head and stroke lightly, still a little unsure how much will be tolerated despite now wanting to shower affection all over him.

"Don't need to promise anything, all right? I can't make promises either. We'll just take it one day at a time. I've just... I've never really felt like this about anyone and I'm still not sure what 'this' is but I want to give it a try. With you."

He feels heat on his face again, a little embarrassed at having all that out there, but there it is. Much as he's cursing that fortune teller, maybe the result wasn't all bad.

This time, there's less uncertainty when Rosinante puts a hand on his head. There's less guilt. It's fine to take this, it's fine to want it, because he's not the only one who does. It's not as if he really regrets all those other times, with all those other people. It's just that this is different, and that sort of thing matters here.

He'd reciprocate the gesture but, well. Quite frankly his arms are not long enough.

"Right, one day at a time." Like everything else around here. And that's sort of the root of it, isn't it? Nothing is ever certain, in Beacon more than anywhere else. They could one or both of them just vanish into the woods, or be killed by spirits, with lanterns too damaged to repair. They could all be devoured by a World Eater. Another flood could sweep the whole town, what's left of it, off into the lake.

One day at a time is really all they can do.

"... You're allowed, by the way." He tries to pick up some of that charm he was laying on back at the carnival. "Just to answer that question from earlier."

You know, the one about holding him.

Oh, he remembers the question well, and gives a soft chuckle at Will's recovery, then sinks back down to the ground on his knees and wraps his arms around those much narrower shoulders. For the moment he doesn't tug him into a tight embrace, but instead tips his forehead forward, settling his cheek against the side of Will's head.

"Good. I keep wanting to. Other than Law I don't really ever want to hug anyone, you know, but... I keep thinking how good it would feel just to have you close."

Which is cute and sweet and all but pretty quickly he's rolling his eyes at himself. "And now you know all about the mushy garbage that goes on in my head. I had this image of how I'd do things, what I might say when I got the courage to say anything at all and instead... Well, so much for being cool and acting like I know what I'm doing."

Edited (redundancy omgggg) 2020-12-08 04:30 (UTC)

It does feel good, in a way that, despite everything he's just said, he wasn't expecting. He's been held before, he's had someone else's face this close to his, but there's always been that tension in his shoulders, that readiness to fight and flee if things go wrong. But right now, that twinge of fear is gone.

He leans into the side of Rosi's head, closing his eyes. It doesn't quite occur to him that the appropriate thing to do would be to return the hug— it just isn't a gesture he associates with expressions of genuine affection. Mostly because he doesn't associate much of anything with expressions of genuine affection.

"If it makes any difference, I don't think either of us really knows what we're doing." Perhaps that's assuming a lot, though now that he thinks about it, Will realizes he doesn't actually know all that much about Rosinante's romantic past. Maybe he's had tons of relationships. It seems unlikely, though, seeing as how they're both just sort of grasping in the dark.

"How long have you... ?" Had feelings? Known this was different? He wishes he had the courage to name this. Would make referring to it a lot easier. "How long have you been keeping this to yourself?"

That lean is enough for him for now. He's been nervous through this whole thing, alternating giddy and terrified, but when he feels Will relax into his hold he lets out a breath and sinks a little closer himself. This wasn't a mistake.

And now there are new delights to discover, like the way Will's voice reverberates against his cheek, or the way his chest moves when he breathes. Little details of their closeness to take in and enjoy. He takes his cigarette between his fingers and just lets his chin rest against Will's shoulder.

"It's... hard to answer that. There wasn't a clear point where I woke up one day and knew I liked you in a way that wasn't just friends," he says.

"But, when we were both down at Helix, and the green-eyes had us, and I woke up and saw your light dimming, I was terrified at the idea I could lose you. And I think if you hadn't tried to gut me, I might not have let go of you once you woke up. And with all the time I've spent thinking about you after... Guess I finally put it together eventually."

So it was kind of a muddled mess, but hopefully Will is somewhat reassured that he wasn't stupidly pining away for months or something.

"And now I get to hug you without you trying to fight back," he teases as he pulls his head back enough to see Will's face, with those sharp blue eyes he's so captivated by.

He is reassured by that, yes. He doesn't like the idea that someone has been having strong feelings for him for a long, long time, and he being none the wiser. It's a combination of upsetting and irritating. Thankfully, he doesn't have to worry about it.

All he has to worry about now is analyzing his own thoughts endlessly to figure out where the change occurred on his end.

"I still feel bad about that. Stabbing you, that is." He's never really spoken about what happened down there, what he experienced while he was apparently dying. Everyone else looked shaken up enough in the end, so they never asked. Which is just as well, because he wouldn't have answered. In any case, it doesn't quite justify almost killing someone over a dream.

"And you know, I don't think it would bother me much with anyone else." He snorts. "Which sounds awful, I realize, but it feels worse to lie about it at this point. You might as well know what you're getting yourself into." As if he doesn't already.

And that thought stops Will for a second. He looks back at Rosinante with an expression of curiosity.

"Actually, I think you might know better than anyone else. And it never drove you away." Even when he might've been trying.

"I'm not exactly a perfect person myself. Can't say I've always made the right choices. Plus, you know what my career was." People don't like spies, and for good reason. They shouldn't. He's done things in the pursuit of a greater justice that most here would condemn him for, which is why he doesn't talk about it. To most in Beacon, he's still just a former soldier who died in battle, and he's glad they never question any further.

"But in that line of work, I got good at understanding people. There's always more to someone than how they present themselves to the world. I know there's probably not some proverbial heart of gold buried in here," he says with a smile still as he tips his chin down, resting his forehead against Will's as he places a hand on his chest. "But that's not what drew me to you anyway. It's your intelligence, your resilience. Your persistence against all odds. You're driven. That's what I see."

Will supposes that's a fair point. Neither of them are exactly model citizens. He doesn't really know in-depth about what an undercover operative does, aside from what he's learned from Rosi, but given the nature of the job itself, it can't be anything good. Lying is a given, probably stealing too. Assassination, perhaps? Sabotage? Whatever it was, at least he did it for a greater cause instead of just himself. Though in a way, that's just as selfish— advancing your own agenda to the detriment of all others. One person's good is another person's evil, and all that.

Will's chest shakes a little under Rosinante's hand, a quiet laugh. "You know, people back in my world used to call that 'blind ambition'." Or not leaving well enough alone. Or foolishness. "Clearly just an expression of jealousy." Is he joking? He's probably joking.

"You're not a bad person, though." His tone shifts to something a little more somber, and then immediately back to teasing, and then back again. Testing the waters, perhaps. "So don't think you have to settle. I think everyone's born selfish and cruel. It takes a lot of dedication to choose not to be."

"I don't settle," he says, and though his voice is serious enough, the teasing is plenty evident in his eyes, and the upward quirk of his lips. "Kind of hard to settle when I normally don't even let people get to know me."

Ugh, that's the fortune teller coming back to haunt him again. He winces slightly, then laughs it off as he tries to turn that into some kind of recovery. "If I wasn't interested in you, and who you are, all of it - good and bad - then I wouldn't be here with you right now. We have different philosophies, but that's okay. It's differences that make people interesting."

The hand on Will's chest trails down his arm, until his own large fingers wrap around Will's and pull them upward, trying to direct them to his side, or bicep, or something. That he's still mostly standing there, leaning without even really moving to embrace him or anything is sort of awkwardly endearing, but a little encouragement might be helpful, he figures.

Edited (clarifying my shit wording!!) 2020-12-23 05:41 (UTC)

The touch brings Will back to the physical present and somewhat out of his thoughts. He should be here, anyway. He's spent too long overthinking everything.

Taking the cue, he slides his hands up Rosinante's chest to his shoulders. It's not quite a hug, but it's in the same ballpark, right? Though maybe chest-touching is too forward here. This isn't a quick, meaningless encounter, he can't rush it. He can't do the things he normally would. It feels like relearning a language.

"I seem to have the opposite problem. People get to know me and they don't enjoy the experience." Is it self-deprecating humor if you're blaming it on everyone else? "Pity. Seems we'll have to meet in the middle somewhere. Which is just as well— I'm interested in learning both sides of you, too."

Too flirtatious? Too close to an innuendo? This should be the easy part, so why is it so difficult?

The proximity they now share is more intoxicating than he had anticipated. After a lifetime of declined connections, of lurking at the edges of others' lives, the simplicity of sharing an embrace feels like so much more.

"Touch-starved, is that what they call it?" he muses to himself, out loud again, then grimaces at the realization that it wasn't just in his head.

"Maybe you're right, I shouldn't... I want to be here with you, I don't want to let go right away, but this damned curse, or whatever it is. Makes it hard to keep my head straight since I keep interrupting myself and my heart is pounding nonstop," he babbles before refocusing. "Let me do one more thing before I go, all right?"

Let him prolong this moment with them so close, let him bring them just a little bit closer. He understands (or he thinks he does) why Will is cautious and hesitant; who wouldn't be when Rosinante can't keep his tongue from flapping and when Beacon has tried so hard in the past to fill Will's thoughts with terror and mistrust. He's unused to setting the pace for a relationship, he's unused to anything remotely relationship-like, but he knows he wants this, and wants Will to know it's all right. That it's awkward, but that that's okay.

Heart still pounding, he dips his chin and presses their lips together. He may be clumsy and unpracticed, but at least he's earnest.

Touch-starved. Yes, that's it exactly. Two years of keeping everyone firmly at arms' length (arms' length plus a knife, in some cases) and never having meant it even before that— it takes a toll. Will doesn't want to rush this and ruin it, but it's hard to hold back. He doesn't know how far to take it. Apparently, Rosinante doesn't have that problem.

Will doesn't panic when their positions shift a bit, when he's pulled just that tiniest bit closer and Rosi's face moves toward him. He would with anyone else, and the fact that he doesn't feels... nice.

The kiss isn't so bad, either.

He hopes this was meant to be more than a quick, chaste, first-date sort of thing, because he's going to make it more. His hand slides up the back of Rosi's neck into his hair, holding them in the kiss just a little bit longer.

Surely there is no problem with this. Rosinante had been careful to test the waters, to help reassure Will that this is what he wants, and now he wonders if he might have opened the floodgates.

Will is so small against him, so easy to hold close as he relishes the feel of those soft lips on his. For the moment, there's nothing at all to say even with the fortune teller's compulsion in effect. It is so nice not to think in terms of words at all, but simply to indulge in warmth and to relax into Will's hold. He sighs against Will's mouth, traces a hand down his spine, then eventually pulls his head back if only so he can catch a real breath. He makes no effort at all to separate any farther than absolutely necessary.

His eyes remain shut for a moment before he slowly opens them and smiles down at Will, pink tinting his cheeks. "Wow," he sighs, but only briefly is he at a loss for words.

"Now I really don't want to go anywhere. You're making it impossible to leave. Which is a good thing," he points out before that can be taken the wrong way. "I just wish I could still taste. I want to know what you taste like."

Will doesn't fight it when Rosi breaks away to breathe, because really that's the smart thing to do. It's just that sometimes you forget, and breathing becomes a secondary concern. Sometimes you get too caught up in taking something you want without being afraid of it, made even better by the fact that the other person clearly wants it too.

He's been thinking of his own actions as missteps, too far back or too far forward. This one is not a misstep.

Still breathing heavily, he rests his head against Rosinante's chest. "Who said that wasn't my plan from the beginning?" Wait, no, that one probably is too forward. It suggests something further than this, and surely it is too soon for that. Thankfully there is a convenient subject change at hand.

"You want to know what I taste like." He laughs into Rosinante's shirt. "That might be a new one." He's very clearly not upset about it.

EVENT LOG: COTTON CANDY HEARTS

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I have no icon for this wheeee

honestly who thought will would get kissed when ITN started

NOT ME kinda thought he'd bad end early and get murdered LMAO

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