[the mangling of the word finally gets peter to laugh, soft but genuine.]
Rikonoro.
[there's roll and clip to the way he says it, the last r a slightly throaty sound, kind of slavic.]
I think she called me idiot and brat. Maybe something else. But then she told me I'm pretty, so I should probably forgive her.
[utterly deadpan, because if there's something peter isn't at the moment, it's pretty. not with puffy, shadowed eyes, a red-tipped nose and the slight imprint of the collar of isaac's shirt across his cheek.
[But he doesn't try to repeat it again, and Isaac just smiles, pleased that Peter seems to be cheering up a bit. Speaking of, though, his hand moves up, gesturing toward the wall.]
I'm gonna- get the door. When I get back, we can talk about how pretty you are.
[because the truth of it is that peter feels more comfortable with it open too, even if it's easier for him to turn his back on the exit. he gently disengages himself, backing into what's become his side of the bed. while isaac takes care of the door peter scrubs his face with his sleeve, rubbing away the tight places where tears dried on his face. laying down just seems sensible. he's wrung out and isaac probably doesn't want to hold him up when the mattress will do just as well.]
Pretty sure I'm not going to be winning any beauty contests today. Not the one who manages to look like he just rolled out of a renaissance painting even with bedhead, either. Life's tough.
[Dryly, and Isaac opens the door, relishing the soft flutter of cool air that greets him, before turning around and leaning his back against the wall with a smirk.]
[when isaac turns around peter's looking at him with one eyebrow raised and the same side of his mouth quirked up, arms folded lightly across his chest despite the fact that he's lying down. somehow it manages to be equal parts challenge and invitation. peter would much rather tease isaac about his cheekbones and pretty eyes than focus on the weight of misery in his chest.]
[Isaac strides forward easily, pressing his hands over the wooden frame at the foot of the bed and leaning over with a little grin. Peter's still wrecked from crying, and Isaac really isn't much better, but sure. They can pretend they're both in their prime.]
Is that supposed to be a compliment? I've seen a few paintings, you know. They all look kind of weird.
[isaac jumping onto the mattress bounces peter, who just takes the opportunity to curl a bit more, leaving his feet where they are in favor of curling his upper body forward and, incidentally, stealing most of the pillow.]
Don't even joke. You have huge pretty doe eyes that are so blue they shouldn't even damn exist in the reality of eyes.
[it hasn't escaped peter's attention that isaac's eyes inspire him to do stupid shit like try and trust. if the godfreys have revealed nothing else it's that he's a sucker for big pretty eyes. he reaches down and taps isaac's knee with the tip of one finger.]
You're supposed to tell me. That's how this works.
[But Isaac sighs, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin in his palm. He contemplates Peter carefully, scrutinizing him for a moment, lips pursed, before shaking his head.]
[Isaac huffs, flopping down on his side, still laying along the foot of the bed.]
I don't know. You- you wear a lot of brown.
[And with that, he rolls on his back, looking up toward the ceiling. And it's all in good fun, and he's not really thinking too hard about it, but what if he did? Isaac's eyes narrow slightly and he considers everything for a moment, before glancing back up toward Peter.]
You're sturdy, I guess. Earthy. You always have this smell, like- like herbs, and that forest you made in the VR room. I mean, god, you're just a year older than me, but sometimes when I look at you, it feels like you're a hundred. I feel it- the wolf feels it, it's just different. [Isaac bites his lip, faltering, rolling to his back once more.] Scott and I, and Derek too, we all tried our best, but it feels like we're scrambling to hold onto anything. We're just kids. Without Scott, I thought it was going to get worse, you know?
[Isaac frowns, his fingers tapping idly over his chest. It's a hard emotion to phrase, and he doesn't really know if he's conveying it right.] And you- you say you don't know shit, but you feel calm despite it. More grounded than Derek, and even Scott. Derek is motivated by his anger, Scott... by his love, I think, and you're just- you're like the earth itself. Moving, readjusting, and yet staying still.
[He laughs suddenly, throwing his arm over his face to hide the flush.]
Oh my god, I sound like an idiot. If our English teacher didn't try to kill us all, I definitely could have gotten a B for that.
Then your English teacher doesn't know shit about shit. You're better at this metaphor gig than you think, and I say that as an accomplished bullshitter.
[he curls a little closer, walks two fingers lightly up the arm that isaac has thrown over his face. it's easier to say things when isaac's not looking at him, sometimes.]
Nobody ever gave me the idea that I needed to know everything. Not even a little piece of everything. Because the mystery's half the point of living. If you know everything, then what's the point? Most of the time if I shut up and listen, then what I need to know comes out. It's when I get too noisy that shit starts getting hard.
Kinda like you. I stopped listening because I thought I didn't want to hear it.
[his fingers walk to the middle of isaac's palm, pause, and tap, once.]
[he puts his finger over isaac's mouth, a somewhat upside-down shushing gesture considering their positions.]
Half the stuff that people say is bullshit. It's filler. It's anything but silence, because people are afraid of what you learn when it's just two people in a room, listening to each other breathe.
That's what I mean. Everybody with working ears can hear people talk, but people who listen? Not so many of those.
[he finally takes his finger off isaac's mouth.]
What I'm saying is that I didn't want to listen. You had Scott and so hey, I didn't have to. Convenient as hell. And then you didn't. But I was still pretending that I didn't hear what I'd heard.
Shit goes wrong when I don't listen to my balls.
[he sighs.]
It's a rare day when I owe anybody jack, but I owe you an apology. Maybe some other stuff too.
[Isaac just listens to Peter, keeping his mouth shut as prompted, but not entirely sure why- or to what purpose. He stares at him, head tilted as he speaks, sort of understanding the reasoning behind his words, but still... maybe a little amused by it all.]
Your balls were telling you to listen to me. Great. At least I have them on my side.
[But he's laughing, rolling onto his stomach and shoving Peter away playfully.] Apology unnecessary, but accepted. You stayed holed up in that cage with me for weeks, making sure I didn't lose it. I can stand to wait a bit while you play feelings tetris.
[isaac is a lot stronger than peter on a good day, and today is a pretty shit day. he hasn't really eaten and he's wrung out from crying, so when isaac pushes he ends up hitting the wall, although he's curled enough that it's just his legs and back. other than a huh noise as he loses some air, he doesn't react with anything more than an eyeroll.]
[He moves to sit up because, gr, enough roughhousing. It's difficult, sometimes, to parse that Peter might smell similar to one of them, but he's not as strong as Erica or Boyd- not in this form anyway.]
[he waves a hand before he rolls away from the wall a bit, but it's not really as dismissive as it could be. after all, he's moving right back toward isaac again. he's been through the change so many times recently that regular hurts don't mean what they used to and little ones barely mean anything at all.
he does, however, shove his feet under isaac's thigh, because the other werewolf is significantly warmer than he is.]
[Isaac lets out a sharp gasp at the sudden cold feet under him, and he jumps up off of the bed with a huff, gathering up the blanket in one arm and throwing it at the other wolf's head.]
[it hits peter in the face with a whump, and for a moment he's still. then he takes the blanket and burritos himself in it, scowling from under the hem with pretty obviously faux petulance. then he tries to bury his face even more, but it's pretty damn obvious when his shoulders start shaking that he's laughing, even if it's those sort of half-hysterical uncontrollable giggles.]
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freezerburned) wrote2012-08-21 10:00 pm
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Rikonoro.
[there's roll and clip to the way he says it, the last r a slightly throaty sound, kind of slavic.]
I think she called me idiot and brat. Maybe something else. But then she told me I'm pretty, so I should probably forgive her.
[utterly deadpan, because if there's something peter isn't at the moment, it's pretty. not with puffy, shadowed eyes, a red-tipped nose and the slight imprint of the collar of isaac's shirt across his cheek.
honest, though, maybe.]
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[But he doesn't try to repeat it again, and Isaac just smiles, pleased that Peter seems to be cheering up a bit. Speaking of, though, his hand moves up, gesturing toward the wall.]
I'm gonna- get the door. When I get back, we can talk about how pretty you are.
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[because the truth of it is that peter feels more comfortable with it open too, even if it's easier for him to turn his back on the exit. he gently disengages himself, backing into what's become his side of the bed. while isaac takes care of the door peter scrubs his face with his sleeve, rubbing away the tight places where tears dried on his face. laying down just seems sensible. he's wrung out and isaac probably doesn't want to hold him up when the mattress will do just as well.]
Pretty sure I'm not going to be winning any beauty contests today. Not the one who manages to look like he just rolled out of a renaissance painting even with bedhead, either. Life's tough.
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[Dryly, and Isaac opens the door, relishing the soft flutter of cool air that greets him, before turning around and leaning his back against the wall with a smirk.]
You have an imagination.
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[when isaac turns around peter's looking at him with one eyebrow raised and the same side of his mouth quirked up, arms folded lightly across his chest despite the fact that he's lying down. somehow it manages to be equal parts challenge and invitation. peter would much rather tease isaac about his cheekbones and pretty eyes than focus on the weight of misery in his chest.]
I have eyes, too.
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[Isaac strides forward easily, pressing his hands over the wooden frame at the foot of the bed and leaning over with a little grin. Peter's still wrecked from crying, and Isaac really isn't much better, but sure. They can pretend they're both in their prime.]
Is that supposed to be a compliment? I've seen a few paintings, you know. They all look kind of weird.
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[peter laughs a little, tilts his chin up just slightly.]
It is a compliment. Have I finally met someone less cultured than me? What a day. I could use my words, it's cute when you blush.
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[A pause, and Isaac hops over the foot of the bed, bouncing on the bottom edge before pulling his legs forward to sit cross-legged near Peter's feet.]
Do I have beady eyes?
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Don't even joke. You have huge pretty doe eyes that are so blue they shouldn't even damn exist in the reality of eyes.
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[That makes him laugh, and he rolls aforementioned eyes.]
If I'm a painting, then what are you?
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[it hasn't escaped peter's attention that isaac's eyes inspire him to do stupid shit like try and trust. if the godfreys have revealed nothing else it's that he's a sucker for big pretty eyes. he reaches down and taps isaac's knee with the tip of one finger.]
You're supposed to tell me. That's how this works.
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[But Isaac sighs, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin in his palm. He contemplates Peter carefully, scrutinizing him for a moment, lips pursed, before shaking his head.]
I dunno. A tree, I guess.
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I can't say anybody has ever compared me to a tree before. Usually their metaphors are a bit more...furry. So why a tree?
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I don't know. You- you wear a lot of brown.
[And with that, he rolls on his back, looking up toward the ceiling. And it's all in good fun, and he's not really thinking too hard about it, but what if he did? Isaac's eyes narrow slightly and he considers everything for a moment, before glancing back up toward Peter.]
You're sturdy, I guess. Earthy. You always have this smell, like- like herbs, and that forest you made in the VR room. I mean, god, you're just a year older than me, but sometimes when I look at you, it feels like you're a hundred. I feel it- the wolf feels it, it's just different. [Isaac bites his lip, faltering, rolling to his back once more.] Scott and I, and Derek too, we all tried our best, but it feels like we're scrambling to hold onto anything. We're just kids. Without Scott, I thought it was going to get worse, you know?
[Isaac frowns, his fingers tapping idly over his chest. It's a hard emotion to phrase, and he doesn't really know if he's conveying it right.] And you- you say you don't know shit, but you feel calm despite it. More grounded than Derek, and even Scott. Derek is motivated by his anger, Scott... by his love, I think, and you're just- you're like the earth itself. Moving, readjusting, and yet staying still.
[He laughs suddenly, throwing his arm over his face to hide the flush.]
Oh my god, I sound like an idiot. If our English teacher didn't try to kill us all, I definitely could have gotten a B for that.
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[he curls a little closer, walks two fingers lightly up the arm that isaac has thrown over his face. it's easier to say things when isaac's not looking at him, sometimes.]
Nobody ever gave me the idea that I needed to know everything. Not even a little piece of everything. Because the mystery's half the point of living. If you know everything, then what's the point? Most of the time if I shut up and listen, then what I need to know comes out. It's when I get too noisy that shit starts getting hard.
Kinda like you. I stopped listening because I thought I didn't want to hear it.
[his fingers walk to the middle of isaac's palm, pause, and tap, once.]
But I was wrong about that, y'know.
And I do like to wear a lot of brown.
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Wrong about what? I don't generally say anything important.
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[he puts his finger over isaac's mouth, a somewhat upside-down shushing gesture considering their positions.]
Half the stuff that people say is bullshit. It's filler. It's anything but silence, because people are afraid of what you learn when it's just two people in a room, listening to each other breathe.
That's what I mean. Everybody with working ears can hear people talk, but people who listen? Not so many of those.
[he finally takes his finger off isaac's mouth.]
What I'm saying is that I didn't want to listen. You had Scott and so hey, I didn't have to. Convenient as hell. And then you didn't. But I was still pretending that I didn't hear what I'd heard.
Shit goes wrong when I don't listen to my balls.
[he sighs.]
It's a rare day when I owe anybody jack, but I owe you an apology. Maybe some other stuff too.
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Your balls were telling you to listen to me. Great. At least I have them on my side.
[But he's laughing, rolling onto his stomach and shoving Peter away playfully.] Apology unnecessary, but accepted. You stayed holed up in that cage with me for weeks, making sure I didn't lose it. I can stand to wait a bit while you play feelings tetris.
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My balls have always been on your side. And really it's not like I chat with them, god.
[he rolls his eyes, prods isaac with an unusually cold toe where he knows the other boy is ticklish.]
You'd think that would've been a hint, right? Naaaaaah.
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[Isaac shoves him away, maybe a little stronger than he should be.]
Your feet are freezing.
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Not my fault.
[yes it is, peter, you haven't eaten.]
Your feet are usually freezing.
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[He moves to sit up because, gr, enough roughhousing. It's difficult, sometimes, to parse that Peter might smell similar to one of them, but he's not as strong as Erica or Boyd- not in this form anyway.]
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[he waves a hand before he rolls away from the wall a bit, but it's not really as dismissive as it could be. after all, he's moving right back toward isaac again. he's been through the change so many times recently that regular hurts don't mean what they used to and little ones barely mean anything at all.
he does, however, shove his feet under isaac's thigh, because the other werewolf is significantly warmer than he is.]
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You jumped like a splashed cat.
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