[He's not entirely unused to being the strong one, but it's still not a role he's entirely familiar with playing. Isaac just let's Peter stay against him as long as he needs, as long as either of them can stand it in this muggy weather.]
I guess this is how it's gonna work. We're here for one another- and Tempest, and Steph, if they need it. It's our- [Isaac tries to swallow around the dryness in his throat.] -our pack.
peter remembers the visceral reaction he'd had to the word when he first arrived in exsilium, the bone-deep rejection of the concept. werewolves aren't pack animals. werewolves run alone. even when he'd run with nicolae for those few glorious months, they hadn't been pack. they were family, but in the end, on that last moon, nicolae had left him, had gone to finish whatever business he had with the world on his own. because that's just how it is.
but he's been at least as much wolf as boy for months, now, and the wolf, the wolf knows. the wolf has chased isaac, has kept him from doing harm, has pillowed his head in dim cages, has tracked him through corridors filled with the smell of death. the wolf knows isaac's scent, knows the sound of his heart and the sound of tears that peter has always pretended he can't hear.
and the boy, well. the boy knows the feeling of isaac's back pressed to his back, the sound of his sleep-breathing. knows that unlike peter, who will sometimes swear a thing just because he likes the ritual of it, isaac only makes promises that he means.
and peter knows that he's never made isaac a promise he didn't intend to keep.
his hand curls into a loose fist, lightly hits isaac's thigh just above the knee, and then uncurls to pat it, to rest there.
[There's a long pause that makes Isaac wary, because it's true. He supposes that he's forgotten about Peter's earlier reluctance, but now it comes rushing back. Peter doesn't want to be part of anything, doesn't want to care- look how difficult it was to just admit that they were friends. Allies, whatever, and now this? It's stupid of him to think that Peter would suddenly want to be part of a pack, just because he's spent a few months here already, just because sometimes they listen to one another breathe without saying a thing.
Isaac is about to open his mouth to take it back when Peter finally speaks, and it's surprising enough to lift his eyes up to look at the other man, surprised and... maybe a little happy. A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth and he rests his head on top of Peter's, his fingers squeezing slightly at his shoulder before letting his arm drop.
He can make something here. He doesn't have Derek and Erica and Boyd, and he doesn't have Scott, but he has Allison, he has Peter and Tempest and Steph and Collette and they can make something that he instinctively needs. That's enough to make him smile, before pulling back a little and kicking his legs up at the air.]
...good. [A pause, like he's really not sure what to say, before Isaac forces a little awkward laugh and rubs at the back of his neck.]
I guess that means I have a few people I need to say sorry to.
[isaac smiles, just for that second like peter's handed him the moon, and peter wants to hate himself for how that bright, fragile, precious thing squeezes right down into his soul, how the smile he returns is soft and crooked and probably goofy as hell, and involuntary as breathing. he could slam and bar the doors of his heart all he wants, it's too late now. the weight of isaac's head on his head is comfortable, the warmth of him against peter's side is welcome despite the heat of the day.
he pats isaac's leg again, squeezes his knee and shakes it lightly. doesn't let go quite yet.]
[Isaac laughs softly and wrinkles his nose at the returning grin, bumping Peter with his shoulder and trying not to overbalance on the hammock. He doesn't know what's going on in Peter's head or his heart, but he can sort of surmise through the pats against his leg, like he's giving up, giving into something- and it's a good thing, Isaac thinks, so it doesn't stop him from being pleased at the new development.]
[still, it's another few heartbeats before peter lets go of isaac's knee, which is as good a hint as any that peter's surrender in this fight against letting himself care is more or less complete. but he does let go, leans away and plants his feet firm on the ground so isaac can get out of the hammock without it swinging.]
[Isaac nods once, before moving to stand up. And this isn't a happy thing, they're in the middle of some serious shit, but Isaac smiles wryly back toward the other werewolf anyway, tipping his head to acknowledge him before he turns and leaves.]
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freezerburned) wrote2012-08-21 10:00 pm
[action]
Sorry.
[action]
[He's not entirely unused to being the strong one, but it's still not a role he's entirely familiar with playing. Isaac just let's Peter stay against him as long as he needs, as long as either of them can stand it in this muggy weather.]
I guess this is how it's gonna work. We're here for one another- and Tempest, and Steph, if they need it. It's our- [Isaac tries to swallow around the dryness in his throat.] -our pack.
[action]
peter remembers the visceral reaction he'd had to the word when he first arrived in exsilium, the bone-deep rejection of the concept. werewolves aren't pack animals. werewolves run alone. even when he'd run with nicolae for those few glorious months, they hadn't been pack. they were family, but in the end, on that last moon, nicolae had left him, had gone to finish whatever business he had with the world on his own. because that's just how it is.
but he's been at least as much wolf as boy for months, now, and the wolf, the wolf knows. the wolf has chased isaac, has kept him from doing harm, has pillowed his head in dim cages, has tracked him through corridors filled with the smell of death. the wolf knows isaac's scent, knows the sound of his heart and the sound of tears that peter has always pretended he can't hear.
and the boy, well. the boy knows the feeling of isaac's back pressed to his back, the sound of his sleep-breathing. knows that unlike peter, who will sometimes swear a thing just because he likes the ritual of it, isaac only makes promises that he means.
and peter knows that he's never made isaac a promise he didn't intend to keep.
his hand curls into a loose fist, lightly hits isaac's thigh just above the knee, and then uncurls to pat it, to rest there.
he is so, so fucked.]
Yeah. Our pack.
[action]
Isaac is about to open his mouth to take it back when Peter finally speaks, and it's surprising enough to lift his eyes up to look at the other man, surprised and... maybe a little happy. A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth and he rests his head on top of Peter's, his fingers squeezing slightly at his shoulder before letting his arm drop.
He can make something here. He doesn't have Derek and Erica and Boyd, and he doesn't have Scott, but he has Allison, he has Peter and Tempest and Steph and Collette and they can make something that he instinctively needs. That's enough to make him smile, before pulling back a little and kicking his legs up at the air.]
...good. [A pause, like he's really not sure what to say, before Isaac forces a little awkward laugh and rubs at the back of his neck.]
I guess that means I have a few people I need to say sorry to.
[action]
he pats isaac's leg again, squeezes his knee and shakes it lightly. doesn't let go quite yet.]
Maybe, yeah.
[action]
I guess I'd best get on that, then.
[action]
[still, it's another few heartbeats before peter lets go of isaac's knee, which is as good a hint as any that peter's surrender in this fight against letting himself care is more or less complete. but he does let go, leans away and plants his feet firm on the ground so isaac can get out of the hammock without it swinging.]
Gonna hang here awhile, so I'll see you later.
[action]
[Isaac nods once, before moving to stand up. And this isn't a happy thing, they're in the middle of some serious shit, but Isaac smiles wryly back toward the other werewolf anyway, tipping his head to acknowledge him before he turns and leaves.]