[ To be completely honest, Locus doesn't know what he'd like to hear. He thinks he'd be a little offended if all Felix thought about was sex. He's more than just his dick. Or so he'd like to think. So, he doesn't think he wants to hear that. But, otherwise... he doesn't even know. Everything about this is still terrifying in some huge way he can't quite quantify. And though he's been a little more trusting with Felix day by day, he's wondering how this is going to be handled. If he'll get truth or lie.
In spite of everything he is and everything that they are, he actually has a tiny glimmer of hope for truth. ( Or at least something close enough to it. )
He patiently sits there and waits for whatever response and when it comes, he has to admit a little bit of surprise. Of course, this has been one of his branches of thought he's had during one of his long thinking sessions. How things could have been if they were different people. ( Or, Locus thinks to himself when he's alone, if he had been a stronger man and forced Felix to leave that temple. ) He's not shared any of these silly fantasies ( if they can be called that ) with Felix.
But, maybe he should.
Locus wets his lips and doesn't respond immediately, uncertain how to respond. Felix is uncomfortable with this—and truthfully so is Locus—but this is something they need to do. Not so much get embarrassed about sharing this kind of thing, but talking to each other like they're both people. They were people before everything was a disaster. Locus thinks that maybe they might be again. ]
A whole moon.
[ He doesn't even say it as a question and even though the delivery is flat, it should be clear enough to Felix that Locus is poking a little fun at this. Maybe he shouldn't, but he thinks it might diffuse the situation just enough. A soft exhale and he clears his throat as he leans back against the booth; his brows raise slightly in question. ]
Or getting a house built together in the middle of nowhere with a wild animal in tow?
[ It's easier to joke about the moon. Joking about the moon means he doesn't have to acknowledge the twisty anxiety that waiting for Locus' reaction brought to life in his stomach. Or the bizarre relief he feels afterward when the confession doesn't blow up in his face. ]
What's wrong with a moon? No one would be able to bother us and you could set up a whole defense network in orbit. See someone coming lightyears away.
[ And that's true! Having Locus all to himself on a whole fucking moon would be grand. Unfeasible, probably. Ridiculous, most likely. But Felix's best fantasies are hardly burdened with realism. ]
A house isn't bad either. The dog could have a big yard.
[ The dog being Leon, obviously. At least, with the cheeky kind of weirdly shy half-grin thing Felix feels his face doing it should be obvious that's what he means. And this, he thinks, is where he should leave it.
Being this open about emotional shit is progress. Easing himself, and by proxy Locus, into it can't be a bad thing. Not after the way they've been living their lives. But the problem with Felix is that once he starts talking, he has a hard time stopping. It's like the words see freedom and make a break for it. ]
It's just, I don't know. [ He doesn't start doodling on the table with his free fingers. He wants to, but he doesn't. He isn't some teenage girl, for Christ's sake. ] I want to keep something for once in my fucking life. I didn't even get to keep my stupid planet.
[ Again, he slants a glance at Locus, like he's testing the waters. And, well... He is. This is uncharted territory, this thing he's blundering pell-mell into. ]
I want to keep you. For good. [ Forever. ] I have since the beginning.
[ It's difficult not to think of the "could haves" and "would haves" in situations like this. Locus isn't so closed off that he doesn't think about how life could have been if only certain things had gone differently, been handled differently. Not that he's prone to flights of fancy, but Felix has been a main components in his life for longer than his own family. It's not a far stretch to think about the future.
Or, well, at one time it hadn't been. Now things are just too convoluted and confusing.
But, the big fact remains: he doesn't hate it. Not all of it, anyway. The boring sedentary life he doesn't care for so much. Though, he imagines Felix will take care of that one way or another. He's never handled downtime well.
Locus leans back in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him. Though he's not quite looking at Felix, it's not a look of annoyance on his face. Felix can likely easily figure out it's the expression he wears while deep in thought—seeing through everything rather than seeing it. Finally, he does rally; ]
I don't think a moon is doable right now. They don't seem to care much about space travel in the past.
[ There's only the smallest of pauses; he presses his lips together for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. ]
When we get back, there's some land to look at in the mountains just outside the city.
[ That's as much of an answer as he can give without actually saying he'll be kept. ]
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no subject
In spite of everything he is and everything that they are, he actually has a tiny glimmer of hope for truth. ( Or at least something close enough to it. )
He patiently sits there and waits for whatever response and when it comes, he has to admit a little bit of surprise. Of course, this has been one of his branches of thought he's had during one of his long thinking sessions. How things could have been if they were different people. ( Or, Locus thinks to himself when he's alone, if he had been a stronger man and forced Felix to leave that temple. ) He's not shared any of these silly fantasies ( if they can be called that ) with Felix.
But, maybe he should.
Locus wets his lips and doesn't respond immediately, uncertain how to respond. Felix is uncomfortable with this—and truthfully so is Locus—but this is something they need to do. Not so much get embarrassed about sharing this kind of thing, but talking to each other like they're both people. They were people before everything was a disaster. Locus thinks that maybe they might be again. ]
A whole moon.
[ He doesn't even say it as a question and even though the delivery is flat, it should be clear enough to Felix that Locus is poking a little fun at this. Maybe he shouldn't, but he thinks it might diffuse the situation just enough. A soft exhale and he clears his throat as he leans back against the booth; his brows raise slightly in question. ]
Or getting a house built together in the middle of nowhere with a wild animal in tow?
no subject
What's wrong with a moon? No one would be able to bother us and you could set up a whole defense network in orbit. See someone coming lightyears away.
[ And that's true! Having Locus all to himself on a whole fucking moon would be grand. Unfeasible, probably. Ridiculous, most likely. But Felix's best fantasies are hardly burdened with realism. ]
A house isn't bad either. The dog could have a big yard.
[ The dog being Leon, obviously. At least, with the cheeky kind of weirdly shy half-grin thing Felix feels his face doing it should be obvious that's what he means. And this, he thinks, is where he should leave it.
Being this open about emotional shit is progress. Easing himself, and by proxy Locus, into it can't be a bad thing. Not after the way they've been living their lives. But the problem with Felix is that once he starts talking, he has a hard time stopping. It's like the words see freedom and make a break for it. ]
It's just, I don't know. [ He doesn't start doodling on the table with his free fingers. He wants to, but he doesn't. He isn't some teenage girl, for Christ's sake. ] I want to keep something for once in my fucking life. I didn't even get to keep my stupid planet.
[ Again, he slants a glance at Locus, like he's testing the waters. And, well... He is. This is uncharted territory, this thing he's blundering pell-mell into. ]
I want to keep you. For good. [ Forever. ] I have since the beginning.
no subject
Or, well, at one time it hadn't been. Now things are just too convoluted and confusing.
But, the big fact remains: he doesn't hate it. Not all of it, anyway. The boring sedentary life he doesn't care for so much. Though, he imagines Felix will take care of that one way or another. He's never handled downtime well.
Locus leans back in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him. Though he's not quite looking at Felix, it's not a look of annoyance on his face. Felix can likely easily figure out it's the expression he wears while deep in thought—seeing through everything rather than seeing it. Finally, he does rally; ]
I don't think a moon is doable right now. They don't seem to care much about space travel in the past.
[ There's only the smallest of pauses; he presses his lips together for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. ]
When we get back, there's some land to look at in the mountains just outside the city.
[ That's as much of an answer as he can give without actually saying he'll be kept. ]