milliways_bar | (no subject)

*Someone, thinking the couch was empty, accidentally sprawls also.*

*Onto Mercutio.*

Oof.

"Ow. Cruel."

He slings an arm around Yrael anyway.

Accidental.

*He doesn't dispute the label of Cruel, though.*

*Yrael shifts so his elbow is not digging into Mercutio's solar plexus, sprawling as well as he might when there are two people on the same couch. He ruffles Mercutio's hair, grinning.*

How are you, other than well on your way to becoming a cat from all your lethargy?

"I am so unnoticeable? That wounds me, to my very soul."

Yrael is warm and snuggling is lovely, though. He can't sulk too hard.

"I exist, I continue."

*Yrael is indeed warm. It's his nature. Warm and huggable and pettable, and all those other lovely -ables.*

There was a couch back in my line of vision. You were hidden behind it.

*He runs his fingers through Mercutio's hair, softly.* You must forgive me if I have wounded you to your very soul. It was not my intention.

He humphs.

"I will forgive you. Mostly."

Too much effort to keep his face straight, after a moment, and grins warmly.

*smiling* You are benevolent and generous beyond your years, my friend. All my fears are assuaged.

*There is the petting of Mercutio's hair.*

The petting of Mercutio's hair is making him shiver in that lovely way.

"I know, godling, I am truly a paragon of virtue. How have you been faring?"

*Yrael knows all the best spots, rubbing Mercutio's scalp with the fingertips of his deft hands.*

Quite well. A couple of people thought to make rather presumptuous and ill-advised comments. One I have kept away so I might not be enraged and break the bar's No Violence rule. The other I drove away without laying a hand on him, and I think he will be intelligent enough to stay away.

I do not like being spoken down to, you see. I had enough of that during my imprisonment.

"You were imprisoned? A god, imprisoned?"

He's itching to know what kind of comments, as well. Curiosity killed the Mercutio, and all.

*Yrael will not tell. Idly, he sees if Mercutio's ear is ticklish.*

A Bright Shiner.

I was. My elder siblings imprisoned me for four thousand years, for not choosing to help them imprison my little brother.

He squirms a little. That would be a yes.

"Your siblings sound very pleasant."

*That makes Yrael grin.*

As pleasant as myself, at times. Though, I do not believe that others should be imprisoned.

I was made a servant, an untrusted advisor to a mortal bloodline. They forgot what I was, and only saw the binding and knew I must be dangerous. And therefore, not to be trusted.

"To be honest, they were probably right."

He grins.

"Only a stupid man would trust you fully."

It's unfortunate that Mercutio is a stupid man. That'll come back to haunt him some day.

*Yrael's grin fades, his eyebrows raised in an inquisitive look.*

Do you really think that?

"I think I do."

His own face becomes more contemplative.

"To trust you fully is to presume that you will always act in a certain way. And you are not a man one would care to presume about."

Pause.

"Which is not to say that I have not made that presumption, I regret to say."

*Yrael runs his hand through Mercutio's hair, thoughtfully.*

There are perhaps a handful of people in this bar that I would do nothing to hurt. They may trust me fully, and they do, I think, because they are my friends.

"We few, we happy few."

He's an arrogant guy.

*There is an apple on Mercutio's stomach, rising and falling with his breath.*

*Yrael rests his head on Mercutio's shoulder, eyes half closed.* I should hope so.

He picks up the apple with one hand and strokes the other through Yrael's hair in his turn.

"Deliriously happy."

He is solemn.

*There is not purring. That's humming Mercutio hears. No really. Humming. And in conclusion, humming.*

Mmmm... here too.

Humming. Of course. How could it be anything else?

"So all is settled."

What 'all' he means is up in the air.

*All is a wonderful word that does not need to be defined.*

Yes.

*Yrael snuggles Mercutio and makes himself more comfortable. Mmm, warm, sleepy not'cat.*

Mercutio doesn't even mind that man!Yrael is quite a bit solider than cat!Yrael, and is squishing him a little.

Because, as you say, mmm, warm, sleepy not'cat.

Lee is probably a little more ecstatic to see Mercutio than his bar-time absence would seem to account for. He makes up for this by giving Mercutio a rather reserved kiss on the cheek. He looks slightly more tan then last time he was in the bar.

"Hey." He hasn't seen Merc in about a month and a half. Not that he feels like mentioning this.

"Hey."

He beams.

"Where did you go?"

"I visited that universe where I'm fictional. It was crazy." He grins.

He wants to tell Mercutio all about hanging around Los Angeles, going back to Vancouver, stopping off in Montreal...but he avoids details; he doesn't want to be talking about going back almost-home when Mercutio has no way of getting back to even an alternate universe's Verona. So he holds his tongue.

"It was weird," he says reflectively, "being a civilian again, even if it was just for the vacation. I didn't really take vacations when I was alive."

"You look well."

He gestures to the couch.

"Talk."

He's grinning.

"Um, well." He curls up next to Mercutio. He's very well indeed. "Had to come up with a fake name, of course, since--I mean, there were posters for 24 all over the subway. Really weird. I went back to Canada for a little bit. It wasn't exactly the same, not quite like it is in my own world, but...it was Canada. Spent a little while in Los Angeles, too. Apparently CTU doesn't exist there either..."

He could talk for hours.

"But it was home?"

He shifts closer.

He wraps an arm around Mercutio and cuddles up.

"Close to it."

"I am very glad for you."

He is, sincerely so.

He kisses Mercutio's temple.

"I wonder," he says thoughtfully, "if something similar could happen with you. Like--if one of the characters from 'Two Gentlemen of Verona' came here, if they could take you for a visit."

"I think it would pain me, not relieve me. To be so close, but not."

He shrugs.

"Verona's heart is her Veronans."