Continuities » Sandboxes » in color
Sep 23, 2017 3:37 AM
native Fëanorian Amentans
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"Bet I can keep up."

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"Try it."

And Ialtem takes off.

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He can maybe not quite keep up. It's not fair. He resolves to practice. 

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Ialtem catches him by the wrist at the door and pins him to the wall of the apartment building and kisses him and then smirks and shows him in. He is on the sixth floor and spends the entire elevator ride doing suggestive things with his eyebrows.

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Telkam might be in love.

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Ialtem lives in a studio apartment with a balcony and a not-really-a-bed flat on the floor in the corner and no visible books and a set of weights on the wall and a small sleeping dog. Telkam is unerringly directed at the not-really-a-bed.

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He might get briefly distracted by the dog. Not for very long though.

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The dog is very asleep. If Telkam is the snuggling type and sticks around, the dog may plod over to them and snuggle too.

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- can he read his maybe-boyfriend on sticking around, he doesn't want to push it.

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Ialtem doesn't seem inclined to kick him out, nor prevent the dog from plopping its chin on Telkam's leg, making it officially against international law to move at all.

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Then he'll stay. Quite happily.

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He wakes up with Ialtem's arm flung over his head and the dog having drooled an entire puddle onto his leg and birds singing outside the balcony.

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And he wishes very dearly he were grey. 

 

Well. If no one makes a thing out of it, he can just kind of stay as long as Ialtem's interested, can't he.

 

And he can be so interesting!

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Ialtem is not hard to interest! He makes eggs and bacon for breakfast and wants to have sex again and generally does not at all kick Telkam out. They do have to show up at work and hit each other with sticks, which is of course enormous fun.

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His favorite part.

 

Two weeks in he asks the question he didn't ask the day they met. "Greys have all the guns. Why doesn't somebody just - get tired of getting a tenth of the pay and taking orders from people who can barely manage bland congratulations on your presumed talent at hitting stuff and throwing things -"

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"...'cause if somebody started shooting up random folks they'd get arrested? The cops are more 'law and order' than, I don't know, 'caste solidarity'. Fuck, why don't the purples starve us or the yellows let everybody's electricity fall apart?"

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"Cause people'd shoot them. I don't - things are pretty much okay, for most people, but they could get so so bad and everyone'd still be all neatly divided so as to be made to play along."

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"There'd still be cops even if we did some fantasy integration thing, they'd just be weirdly colorful."

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"Yeah. That's not really what I want. - what I want is 'no government' and that probably just doesn't actually work."

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"Dunno if it's been tried."

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"I could maybe even spin trying as a green sort of thing to do." He makes a face. "Won't, but could. Wonder if I could dye my hair white and join the army and call it a postmodern method acting thing."

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"No idea. There's... war correspondents? If we were at war right now."

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"'Aitim, I need a war, you don't mind starting one for me, do you?'"

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Snort.

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Kiss. "If you wanted to meet a blue for some unfathomable reason I could introduce you sometime. You could offer to spar and he could practice not making faces."

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