[Mikleo's heard the same thing countless times, either said by Mikleo himself or Sorey as he whined about being forced into bed. They always did burn the midnight oil when there was a new discovery involved. What he's not expecting is that little bit of gentle chiding (gentle for Eren anyway), and Mikleo--
-- well, he's suddenly swept up over Eren's shoulders and that's a surprise.]
Gah! H-hey! You can't just--
[But he can. And did. And now they are standing just before the steps to his house. The speed is dizzying, and it leaves Mikleo grabbing Eren's back a little uncertainly when they stop.]
[ consider this step two towards lizard brain showing off— look how physically fit he is on top of colorful. he could’ve left you in the dust! but he can carry you when your legs can’t keep up.
eren puts him down on his own time, though, not quite heeding words until he’s climbing stairs. it’s easy enough when he does, though, an arm fully around his waist while the other steadies mikleo’s descent back to the ground just above the steps that lead into the cottage. you see, your glicose is a little
low
(he tasted that too)
—mikleo’s hair is a mess just from nearly flipping him upside down. he watches him fondly with a passing glance up and down his face, before deciding against fixing any of the curly ends. it was suitable. prodding at the other’s side (not lacking in gentleness but certainly more brazen as his nature was), eren waits for him to get comfortable in balance before walking with him. ]
[Mikleo squints and holds his head for a moment as the world tilts, stops, and then tilts back into something resembling normal. He's definitely a little dizzy, but tea will help with that. He looks every bit as disgruntled as one would expect, even if he's grateful that Eren is helping him along.]
You're right, I probably would. You're way faster than I am-- even if I could windstep still.
[There's probably a spell for that, but it's not on his list of priorities at the moment. He smooths his hair down and unlocks his door, then motions for Eren to follow him.
The house is a little different from the full moon two weeks ago-- notably in the amount of plants. It appears the way Mikleo has been coping with stress is by acquiring a small garden. There are neatly-labeled flowers and herbs packed into every available bit of windowsill real estate, and there are vines crawling all up the outsides of the cottage, and of course the lofty outside floor is stunning with its own roses. Eren can probably smell them from down here, from the sweet and full-bodied yellow to the reticent white tinged with green. There are several kinds of roses in all, but Mikleo will show them later.
He goes straight to the kitchen and immediately begins pulling things out of the pantry. Potatoes from a bag, and he dumps them straight into the sink. Leeks from what appears to be some kind of enchanted icebox. He dumps those into the sink, too.]
Do you think you could wash those and peel them for me?
[He continues his whirlwind about the kitchen. And then there is the cream, and a block of cheddar, and an array of garlic and other spices all lined up on the counter beside a big metal stew pot. He's very much in his element.
But before anything else, he needs a pat of butter. As he chips a chunk off the block to help oil the pan, his fingers tremble and he very nearly drops the whole thing in. For a moment, Mikleo forgets he's not alone in the kitchen, as he just stares at his fingers with a look of betrayal.
[ a friendly reminder. but! there’s something else that’s quick to get his attention. tongue flicking and lip wetting escalates rather quickly with leaves, petals and dirt in the cooking fray. his brain is telling him look at this smell no wait look at this one, no wait—, unable to divide his attention as readily as he would’ve liked (no, thank god he doesn’t have chameleon eyes).
he’s quick, at least. quick and eager to put himself into the task once asked, lips parted a little further to speak once washing is done and peeling is to be had. knives, bless. he gets the sharpest one from the drawer.
but the drop in mood, rather, it’s return, makes eren stop mid peel, potato skin into a rather quick spiral with hands that have grown used to the task for years. he can’t expect mikleo to pretend he’s okay, when he’s not, of course not— but he won’t leave him alone. he won’t force him to repeat himself, or voice the clench in his chest or the weariness that loads onto his bones.
he can share what he had to offer instead: a constant wave of what he had the day they decided to bond that laps at the darker cloud of feeling. mikleo told him this, and he extends it as his own. a shimmer in a shadow: you’re not alone. ]
Sit a little. [ he’ll readily take over if he’s guided into what he had to do, nearly finished with his share (a master potato peeler), and dragging the closest chair over for the seraph. ] Just tell me where everything is and where it goes. [ a pause, more lip licking. ] —Consider it training for staying here.
[ he needs to know how to work these contraptions on his own and at least know how to not starve. he’s willing to learn. ]
[He thinks that'll change as soon as he smells the food cooking, but...
Things happen, and memories happen, and he's just helpless. Mikleo feels that wave of warmth and soft joy come from somewhere, and now that he knows the source, he can feel it even stronger. The trembling in his fingers doesn't stop. For once he doesn't struggle against Eren's suggestion, he just sets the butter on the counter and steps aside. He's afraid he'll cut himself with all this trembling.]
Sorry, [he mumbles, and sits down in the wooden chair.] I guess I'm more tired than I thought.
[He worries his fingers into the fabric bunched about his knees.]
You're right. If you're going to stay here, you should know where everything is.
[Did they even talk about Eren staying permanently? It doesn't matter. It's a given, and Mikleo's rolling with it. He doesn't want to be in this house alone-- not when he got it and lived in it with Sorey before.]
Everything you need is already out on the counter. We need to... slice up the leeks to get all the sand out. Then we chop the leeks, the garlic, and the potatoes. The leeks go into the pan with the garlic until they're soft, so a medium low heat.
[ eren was a wanderer by default, with no true place to call home since wall maria’s first fall. there were never permanent stays— only different beds, quarters and sometimes prison cells. basements, he’s slept in castle basements. in precarious training conditions in the woods, in the rain. a roof was always better than that. honestly, there’s something natural about the way he changes locations. in more common sense, it really didn’t matter for him enough to warrant deeper conversation, but not because it wasn’t important.
he wanted, decided, to stay where mikleo would rather than the barracks or the hole he dug, and mikleo wants the same. it’s more than good enough as it is important for him to make a decision without second thoughts.
keep moving forward, he thinks, with a brief memory of his own grief in a different time, in a different situation, where all he could see were tears. a hand was held out to him, and a friend— well, once a friend, told him the same thing. keep moving forward. that’s all you can do.
but, instructions . . . right. eren grunts, grabbing what he can of the leeks to slice in the way he knows how (warning: it might not be the right way, but its functional). chopping next, and mind you he does spent some moments to smell the aroma. ah. he turns around enough to briefly point the knife. ]
You’ll see how hungry you are when you start eating.
[ he knows that feeling all too well. eren sort of cuts everything together though so now they’re just. a pile (he stares, for a moment, trying to assimilate). in which he puts everything in the goddamn pan, and looks at this magic stove like a mutant. he’ll figure it out. time to press every button and turn every knob.
. . .
he leans over, and very seriously, speaks to the stove. ]
You're probably right. The garlic already smells good, and you've only just chopped it.
[He smiles faintly as he watches Eren work. It's not... the most delicate of things, but he does know how to clean and cut vegetables. And no, Mikleo would not have mixed it all together-- but it doesn't hurt anything. It's all stew, it'll come out soft and delicious anyway.
He rests his chin in his hand and watches Eren try to work the stove. Oh my god, he thinks-- this is even worse than Mikleo on his first day, trying to figure out the stove while Sorey pretended he wasn't dying of hunger.]
That's not-- turn those off, Eren. You'll burn the house down.
[He sighs a little but it's less cranky, more fond, and he gets up. He slides in beside Eren-- hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder-- and deftly turns all the knobs off.]
All right. See this one here? There's a little dot next to it, that one indicates which burner it controls. The one we want is here. You just turn it to about a third of the way in, like this...
[He stifles a yawn.]
The broth is in that metal pitcher over there. We'll need the thyme too, and the bay leaves. We'll toss them in whole.
[ but there’s no fire, eren mutters, brows wrinkled and quickly hovering closely to not only maintain proximity, but manage to shift just a bit behind mikleo to watch over his shoulder, back to his front.
intently observant of the seraph pressing the knob in until it clicks and alights, he carefully . . . does the same with the burner next to it. behold! it works! turn the knob back, and it shuts off. curious grunt!! displacing himself to look behind the stove (gas? electricity? magitech?), no matter where he looked! no smoke, no fuel— ]
You don’t need wood. [ it’s— really another moment of grand fascination, even though he’s heard of these around town! a nod comes once the next instructions are given, carrying everything over and setting them rather easily on top of the fire. plunging everything is even better.
he . . . sees the yawn, though, and pulls up an extra chair to encourage sitting, right by mikleo’s and settling back. ] Imagine how much time everyone saves everyday. Back home, we needed a whole team of people to make something. [ a gesture with fingers when he means “many at once”. his third eyelids slide a little slower than they usually do, finding his eyes a bit heavy— but he forces his eyes wider to continue. ] One group would go chop wood when the rest were trying to get a fire to start, or peeling potatoes.
[He watches Eren with his lips curled in amusement as he tries to figure it out. Mikleo had done the same about a month ago. He was used to the contraptions one could find in Rolance at this point (and Hyland, too)-- the technology had come a ways in about a hundred years. But the stuff here worked so much better, like people with magic and science knew what they were doing.]
I think it's some kind of fire spell. Whenever I see something like this, it's been inscribed somewhere on the inside of the parts.
[He turns up the heat a little and covers the pot, and then he sits beside Eren so he can continue cuddling up beside him. Now that they've established this as a fine and regular thing, he's loathe to give it up.]
That makes sense if you're feeding a lot of people. I mostly ended up cooking over fire pits on the road.
[It'll take a few minutes for the stew to simmer, even though it's covered, so he finds Eren's hand and twines their fingers again. The trembling from earlier has... mostly subsided, a subtle warmth and delight in someone's presence obfuscating the pall of the day. He rests his head against Eren's shoulder again and closes his eyes. He only wants to rest them after crying (and coming close to a second time), not fall asleep, but...
For now, just for now, he focuses on the heartbeat he can detect from here. Without really thinking about it, he matches his breaths to Eren's.]
[ if only eren were actually feeling awkward about it. the fact of the matter: he wasn’t. mikleo isn’t alone in seeking contact out once again— eren’s hand meets his halfway in a bumb, and he almost doesn’t realize the depth of his intention until mikleo’s fingers curl and he . . . curls, too.
his mind had wandered without him truly realizing where, but when it meets the same destination, he realizes, his shoulders relax. as if preparing for the other’s head to settle into him, eren’s rests just on top of his, unintentionally lapping at his lips, because mikleo’s hair is too close for his senses not to beckon.
he presses his lips as closely as he can together, into a flatter line when it dawns on him that he’s smelling him. he remembers getting smelled by people. it was kind of weird and he didn’t want to be that person.
their breathing sync, and eren watches the tiny dance of embers beneath the pan. he should be careful not to doze off. ]
A lot of traveling?
[ it’s softer in tone, and palm into palm, eren shifts their arms just a little bit more into his lap. ]
[This is... comfortable. It's warm and soft like Eren's hugs are, and he's just... content. He isn't content with a lot in his life at the moment, but right now, right here, he's happy with this. If he notices Eren smelling/tasting him he doesn't do anything to stop it. Eren is a little bit dragon now, just like Mikleo is a little bit human. There's nothing to be done about it, and they're Bonded anyway, so it's not like he... minds.
And it's not like Eren smells bad or something, either.]
First it was to help Sorey on his journey as the Shepherd. And then when he was gone, it was to keep his dream alive. So I traveled, and... I helped other humans learn to walk the world between humans and spirits, and I explored all sorts of forgotten places to learn about the world's history.
[He inhales through his nose and finds the scent of garlic. Delicious. Now that he can smell the boiling stew, it's a little harder to just turn over and go to sleep. He squeezes Eren's hand instead, and runs his thumb over the back of his palm.]
[ he probably smells a little like fresh dirt. gah, and he can’t help it. the second he relaxes his lips, his tongue laps out again, as small and as subtle as it was.
mikleo will find just how smooth the scales are there, soft, they are, like gliding over warm glass that runs with the tip of your fingers, molding into the touch rather than being a stationary surface. he can feel the heat rise from the boiling water more than anyone, probably the only water he wasn’t too cautious of (although he should be). the array of smells made him a tad more alert than he had been, mikleo’s ozone sweetness coupled with the scent and pre-taste of food all at once. his head’s almost spinning. ]
You’re an asset. [ important, at that. ] Worlds need people who’ll write their truths.
[ a pause. he knows what it is, to be deprived from history. he knows what it is to know history that hasn’t been dictated for one reason or another. mm, he might be rambling, tired and hungry and fond of a possibility that exists for people out there, at the very least. it gave him hope that things could be reached, eventually.
how, he’d still have to figure it out, and it wasn’t easy— freedom was a bloody path and always had been. but, still. there’s hope for change. ]
It’s books like that that’ll make a difference in the future.
[He does smell a little like fresh dirt, but something about it... it doesn't bother him. He's surrounded by plants, after all. There's always some tinge of fresh, moist dirt beneath everything. It's certainly not enough to deter him from the cuddling. He feels just how wonderfully silky-smooth those scales are and treats them to a more thorough stroking. For a moment, his mind drifts somewhere else, where he could properly rub his hands over all of Eren's scales to help soothe them as they grow in, but--
-- but then he realizes he's thought a bit too far and he snaps his thoughts away from that kind of intimacy. Not right now. This is... it's more than enough.]
An asset? [His eyes flutter open and he glances up at Eren, though he's mostly only looking at his chin right now.] I... suppose I never looked at it that way. Of course it's necessary to have someone to keep records and to tell stories... but this is for me as much as it is for anyone else.
[ — there’s that different sort of . . . taste, in his mouth again. momentary, even on the verge of tasteless but not quite, soft but at the same time intoxicating in the sense that his olfaction didn’t. actually. mind more.
he isn’t able to peek at the other’s thoughts, but there’s a subtle jump in the way his heart beats, speeds, then in seconds falls back to the steady rhythm it was used keeping, at least at this moment.
hah. it’s nothing. eren removes himself from mikleo’s head so he doesn’t see just chin, tucking it into his neck. ]
I guess that’s what makes it better. You’re doing something that comes natural. [ it’s not and end goal or anything, but more like . . . ] The rest is a consequence.
[ to eren— there’s certain beauty in that. ]
You don’t try— you are.
[ . . . has he said that to him before? whether he has or not, he’s saying so again, a compliment meant to flutter warmth like the simmering (perhaps now boiling) broth they’re waiting for. he knows he’s feeling it when his hand feels tighter. ]
[He meets Eren's eyes and he's keenly aware of just how close they are. He swallows dryly and ducks his gaze after a moment, glancing toward the pot on the stove instead. It's really starting to smell good, like garlic and thyme.]
Writing sort of... runs in the family, you could say.
[Eren continues with those simple but observant words. He feels like he's heard this before, not in the same words but in that gentle tone of voice, in the warm rush that fills every corner of him like water pushing over the edges. He's similarly overwhelmed. And tired. And... grateful. So grateful.
He smiles more in his eyes than his lips.]
Something we have in common. There's no point in pretending to be something you're not.
[He touches Eren's cheek with his other hand, and shifts in his seat to get up. Someone needs to stir the pot. But before that, he leans over to press their foreheads together.]
[ eren feels thin chills touching upon his cheek, and to further meet mikleo halfway in another mutual desire for contact, his hand slinks away only to find the back of the seraph’s head, pressing right against the curve of his nape as he dips forward and knocks their foreheads in, nose to nose and unbothered. ]
That’s why I’m here.
[ . . . he liked him. the bond may magnify his feelings— but they’re true. he’s around mikleo because they fit, they’re alike as they are opposites that balance each other out.
he maintains contact, touch, and the fluid exchange for a little while longer before he rises to tend to their food. he touches the pan in places he shouldn’t, but no burns come of it, no jolting away. the heat felt welcoming to his skin and he’s readily absorbing temperature to keep his absolute warmest. soon enough, they should be eating, soon enough, they should be full and finally in perfect for to rest. ]
[Something inside of Mikleo's chest flutters and dives and he feels a little lightheaded because of it. Or maybe that's because he hasn't eaten in a while? Either way, he's pleased at the contact and the feeling of Eren's fingertips pressing into his hair and neck. He is... slightly enamored, perhaps. The Bond certainly helps.]
Yeah. And I appreciate it.
[And then the moment is over. It's a comfortable sort of silence after that, where Mikleo tests the doneness of the potatoes with a fork. Satisfied, he motions for Eren to take the pan off the heat. Then Mikleo adds a little heavy cream and bits of grated cheese into the bubbling mixture, which thickens slightly as it gets cooler.]
It's done.
[He realizes belatedly that he didn't make tea, but he's barely conscious enough to blow on his soup right now. Rather than the table, he elects to curl up on one end of the couch, and he pats the seat beside him in invitation.]
[ you need to get used to the curious lizard tongue flicking right over your shoulder. he curious, taste good.
the bowl in his hands warm him like any fire would, and the faraway thought of basking on a rock as heated as this is tempting. eren comes up close to him in a scoot, legs accommodating into a comfortable spread as he rests his elbows close to the top of his knees, and dips the bowl up for him to drink.
it’s probably scalding, but eren doesn’t react to it like he did once with the crepe. on top of hot, delicious. shoulder to shoulder, he comments with his pointed teeth poking out of a smile. ]
[He... really doesn't mind the lizard tongue but we don't have time to unpack all that so--
Mikleo melts against Eren's side almost. He sips his stew from a spoon, delicate and blowing on each bite. He eyes Eren's enthusiasm and thinks of that first meal they shared. All the gooey cheese that Eren nearly choked on...
It seems he's become extremely resistant to fire, if not completely immune. The smile is terribly cute though. Mikleo returns it, but softer.]
Thanks for the help. It's probably a little different from the way you normally have it. A little... seraphic twist, maybe.
[He too seems to enjoy the warm bowl in his hands. Eren makes a better heater though.]
You can stay here as long as you want, by the way. I sort of took over the loft upstairs with all the plants, but we can put a bed up there if you want to sleep outside. There's a bench and a table--I usually take a book up there.
[ they!! they might as well be molded, then. into each other’s sides, and since eren’s hands are a little larger— he trusts his hold with on hand, cradling his food and using the liberty of his now free hand to sit back entirely, arm hanging behind mikleo and stretching across the couch’s posterior, fingers curling at the ends of the seraph’s shoulder.
this is literally fine. he hums with approval when he takes another bowlful (he’s a strong independent man who don’t need no spoon), meant to mean it’s much better than what he’s used to. the intention would pick up easily between them, anyway.
look up, back down, and eren’s actually almost done with his broth. he considers what he says, smile a little like . . . butter, you could say. ]
I need to move my things. [ but a hole in the ground is easy enough to make, as was relocating his pile (that grows by the day!!), he just needed time and energy to make it work. and detail to make it mostly waterproof.
of course, if he were still alone, he’d sleep in his burrow, by himself. but after today— after today, something’s changed. ] Wherever you’re sleeping, [ because it’s dumb to stay in separate rooms, ] I’ll sleep.
[There's nothing quite like cuddling with someone warm while also cradling soup. He's pleased as pie but he's also really hungry. So while he's not putting food away as quickly as Eren, he's still moving at a good pace.
For his end of the bond, he's content, and all the warm feelings that Eren may unintentionally send over are returned. Good food and good company is the perfect potion for a breaking heart.
Tomorrow is a new day, and he can pick up the pieces then.]
Whatever you need to do. [He pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth. Oh. There's... a blush again. It makes it easier to maintain their bond and it keeps Eren close in case of feral instincts, so it makes sense from a practical standpoint.]
I roll over a lot. You might not like it.
[He smiles a bit.]
I'll have to clear some stuff off, but it's a big bed. Shouldn't be any trouble.
I had bunk mates who’d wake up upside down. Legs to the wall.
[ oh, bertholdt. he hardly knew you. tagged with this is only a chip of upset, the kind mikleo wouldn’t be able to detect if he weren’t bonded, but subtle enough to be confused with some sort of interference.
his point: it won’t bother him. not saying that he’s lazy, but he’s finished his food, his shoulders are relaxing and the weight of the day is taking its toll. ]
[He wonders at that little chip of upset he feels through the link, but he figures it's something to do with missing people from home. Mikleo feels a similar twinge of upset when he thinks about everyone else.]
I'm not sure, honestly... [He stifles a yawn. His bowl is empty now, or close enough to it that he can just tilt the rest up to his lips and swallow it, so he does. He sets the bowl on the nearest flat surface. He'll retrieve it later.]
Mmm, maybe.
[He covers a yawn with both hands, and it's a big enough yawn that tears form at the edges of his eyes.]
[ setting his bowl into mikleo’s and hands now completely free, he’ll sit back for good. yawns are horridly contagious though, and before he knows it, his eyes water once his mouth threatens to stretch open as well. damn, his eyes! they’re heavy.
they’ll go to bed. in a minute. but for now it’s warm. he’s full. his head rests against the top of the seraph and he breathes softly into his hair. ]
We should get going, then.
[ he says this, but he doesn’t move an inch to give mikleo room to stand. if anything, his body is too inviting to stay. ]
[Mikleo stills even as his heart does a weird flip, a confusing reaction to have when someone huffs into your hair. He doesn't dwell on it long, though. He's comfortable and today has gone on way too long.
But he doesn't linger on much at all, actually. As Eren says they should get going, Mikleo is oddly silent.
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no subject
-- well, he's suddenly swept up over Eren's shoulders and that's a surprise.]
Gah! H-hey! You can't just--
[But he can. And did. And now they are standing just before the steps to his house. The speed is dizzying, and it leaves Mikleo grabbing Eren's back a little uncertainly when they stop.]
Okay, okay, we're here! Put me down!
no subject
eren puts him down on his own time, though, not quite heeding words until he’s climbing stairs. it’s easy enough when he does, though, an arm fully around his waist while the other steadies mikleo’s descent back to the ground just above the steps that lead into the cottage. you see, your glicose is a little
low
(he tasted that too)
—mikleo’s hair is a mess just from nearly flipping him upside down. he watches him fondly with a passing glance up and down his face, before deciding against fixing any of the curly ends. it was suitable. prodding at the other’s side (not lacking in gentleness but certainly more brazen as his nature was), eren waits for him to get comfortable in balance before walking with him. ]
You’d pass out if you went my pace.
no subject
You're right, I probably would. You're way faster than I am-- even if I could windstep still.
[There's probably a spell for that, but it's not on his list of priorities at the moment. He smooths his hair down and unlocks his door, then motions for Eren to follow him.
The house is a little different from the full moon two weeks ago-- notably in the amount of plants. It appears the way Mikleo has been coping with stress is by acquiring a small garden. There are neatly-labeled flowers and herbs packed into every available bit of windowsill real estate, and there are vines crawling all up the outsides of the cottage, and of course the lofty outside floor is stunning with its own roses. Eren can probably smell them from down here, from the sweet and full-bodied yellow to the reticent white tinged with green. There are several kinds of roses in all, but Mikleo will show them later.
He goes straight to the kitchen and immediately begins pulling things out of the pantry. Potatoes from a bag, and he dumps them straight into the sink. Leeks from what appears to be some kind of enchanted icebox. He dumps those into the sink, too.]
Do you think you could wash those and peel them for me?
[He continues his whirlwind about the kitchen. And then there is the cream, and a block of cheddar, and an array of garlic and other spices all lined up on the counter beside a big metal stew pot. He's very much in his element.
But before anything else, he needs a pat of butter. As he chips a chunk off the block to help oil the pan, his fingers tremble and he very nearly drops the whole thing in. For a moment, Mikleo forgets he's not alone in the kitchen, as he just stares at his fingers with a look of betrayal.
He is... not okay.]
no subject
[ a friendly reminder. but! there’s something else that’s quick to get his attention. tongue flicking and lip wetting escalates rather quickly with leaves, petals and dirt in the cooking fray. his brain is telling him look at this smell no wait look at this one, no wait—, unable to divide his attention as readily as he would’ve liked (no, thank god he doesn’t have chameleon eyes).
he’s quick, at least. quick and eager to put himself into the task once asked, lips parted a little further to speak once washing is done and peeling is to be had. knives, bless. he gets the sharpest one from the drawer.
but the drop in mood, rather, it’s return, makes eren stop mid peel, potato skin into a rather quick spiral with hands that have grown used to the task for years. he can’t expect mikleo to pretend he’s okay, when he’s not, of course not— but he won’t leave him alone. he won’t force him to repeat himself, or voice the clench in his chest or the weariness that loads onto his bones.
he can share what he had to offer instead: a constant wave of what he had the day they decided to bond that laps at the darker cloud of feeling. mikleo told him this, and he extends it as his own. a shimmer in a shadow: you’re not alone. ]
Sit a little. [ he’ll readily take over if he’s guided into what he had to do, nearly finished with his share (a master potato peeler), and dragging the closest chair over for the seraph. ] Just tell me where everything is and where it goes. [ a pause, more lip licking. ] —Consider it training for staying here.
[ he needs to know how to work these contraptions on his own and at least know how to not starve. he’s willing to learn. ]
no subject
[He thinks that'll change as soon as he smells the food cooking, but...
Things happen, and memories happen, and he's just helpless. Mikleo feels that wave of warmth and soft joy come from somewhere, and now that he knows the source, he can feel it even stronger. The trembling in his fingers doesn't stop. For once he doesn't struggle against Eren's suggestion, he just sets the butter on the counter and steps aside. He's afraid he'll cut himself with all this trembling.]
Sorry, [he mumbles, and sits down in the wooden chair.] I guess I'm more tired than I thought.
[He worries his fingers into the fabric bunched about his knees.]
You're right. If you're going to stay here, you should know where everything is.
[Did they even talk about Eren staying permanently? It doesn't matter. It's a given, and Mikleo's rolling with it. He doesn't want to be in this house alone-- not when he got it and lived in it with Sorey before.]
Everything you need is already out on the counter. We need to... slice up the leeks to get all the sand out. Then we chop the leeks, the garlic, and the potatoes. The leeks go into the pan with the garlic until they're soft, so a medium low heat.
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he wanted, decided, to stay where mikleo would rather than the barracks or the hole he dug, and mikleo wants the same. it’s more than good enough as it is important for him to make a decision without second thoughts.
keep moving forward, he thinks, with a brief memory of his own grief in a different time, in a different situation, where all he could see were tears. a hand was held out to him, and a friend— well, once a friend, told him the same thing. keep moving forward. that’s all you can do.
but, instructions . . . right. eren grunts, grabbing what he can of the leeks to slice in the way he knows how (warning: it might not be the right way, but its functional). chopping next, and mind you he does spent some moments to smell the aroma. ah. he turns around enough to briefly point the knife. ]
You’ll see how hungry you are when you start eating.
[ he knows that feeling all too well. eren sort of cuts everything together though so now they’re just. a pile (he stares, for a moment, trying to assimilate). in which he puts everything in the goddamn pan, and looks at this magic stove like a mutant. he’ll figure it out. time to press every button and turn every knob.
. . .
he leans over, and very seriously, speaks to the stove. ]
Medium low heat.
[ please turn on. ]
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[He smiles faintly as he watches Eren work. It's not... the most delicate of things, but he does know how to clean and cut vegetables. And no, Mikleo would not have mixed it all together-- but it doesn't hurt anything. It's all stew, it'll come out soft and delicious anyway.
He rests his chin in his hand and watches Eren try to work the stove. Oh my god, he thinks-- this is even worse than Mikleo on his first day, trying to figure out the stove while Sorey pretended he wasn't dying of hunger.]
That's not-- turn those off, Eren. You'll burn the house down.
[He sighs a little but it's less cranky, more fond, and he gets up. He slides in beside Eren-- hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder-- and deftly turns all the knobs off.]
All right. See this one here? There's a little dot next to it, that one indicates which burner it controls. The one we want is here. You just turn it to about a third of the way in, like this...
[He stifles a yawn.]
The broth is in that metal pitcher over there. We'll need the thyme too, and the bay leaves. We'll toss them in whole.
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intently observant of the seraph pressing the knob in until it clicks and alights, he carefully . . . does the same with the burner next to it. behold! it works! turn the knob back, and it shuts off. curious grunt!! displacing himself to look behind the stove (gas? electricity? magitech?), no matter where he looked! no smoke, no fuel— ]
You don’t need wood. [ it’s— really another moment of grand fascination, even though he’s heard of these around town! a nod comes once the next instructions are given, carrying everything over and setting them rather easily on top of the fire. plunging everything is even better.
he . . . sees the yawn, though, and pulls up an extra chair to encourage sitting, right by mikleo’s and settling back. ] Imagine how much time everyone saves everyday. Back home, we needed a whole team of people to make something. [ a gesture with fingers when he means “many at once”. his third eyelids slide a little slower than they usually do, finding his eyes a bit heavy— but he forces his eyes wider to continue. ] One group would go chop wood when the rest were trying to get a fire to start, or peeling potatoes.
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I think it's some kind of fire spell. Whenever I see something like this, it's been inscribed somewhere on the inside of the parts.
[He turns up the heat a little and covers the pot, and then he sits beside Eren so he can continue cuddling up beside him. Now that they've established this as a fine and regular thing, he's loathe to give it up.]
That makes sense if you're feeding a lot of people. I mostly ended up cooking over fire pits on the road.
[It'll take a few minutes for the stew to simmer, even though it's covered, so he finds Eren's hand and twines their fingers again. The trembling from earlier has... mostly subsided, a subtle warmth and delight in someone's presence obfuscating the pall of the day. He rests his head against Eren's shoulder again and closes his eyes. He only wants to rest them after crying (and coming close to a second time), not fall asleep, but...
For now, just for now, he focuses on the heartbeat he can detect from here. Without really thinking about it, he matches his breaths to Eren's.]
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his mind had wandered without him truly realizing where, but when it meets the same destination, he realizes, his shoulders relax. as if preparing for the other’s head to settle into him, eren’s rests just on top of his, unintentionally lapping at his lips, because mikleo’s hair is too close for his senses not to beckon.
he presses his lips as closely as he can together, into a flatter line when it dawns on him that he’s smelling him. he remembers getting smelled by people. it was kind of weird and he didn’t want to be that person.
their breathing sync, and eren watches the tiny dance of embers beneath the pan. he should be careful not to doze off. ]
A lot of traveling?
[ it’s softer in tone, and palm into palm, eren shifts their arms just a little bit more into his lap. ]
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And it's not like Eren smells bad or something, either.]
First it was to help Sorey on his journey as the Shepherd. And then when he was gone, it was to keep his dream alive. So I traveled, and... I helped other humans learn to walk the world between humans and spirits, and I explored all sorts of forgotten places to learn about the world's history.
[He inhales through his nose and finds the scent of garlic. Delicious. Now that he can smell the boiling stew, it's a little harder to just turn over and go to sleep. He squeezes Eren's hand instead, and runs his thumb over the back of his palm.]
I'm going to put it all into a book someday.
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mikleo will find just how smooth the scales are there, soft, they are, like gliding over warm glass that runs with the tip of your fingers, molding into the touch rather than being a stationary surface. he can feel the heat rise from the boiling water more than anyone, probably the only water he wasn’t too cautious of (although he should be). the array of smells made him a tad more alert than he had been, mikleo’s ozone sweetness coupled with the scent and pre-taste of food all at once. his head’s almost spinning. ]
You’re an asset. [ important, at that. ] Worlds need people who’ll write their truths.
[ a pause. he knows what it is, to be deprived from history. he knows what it is to know history that hasn’t been dictated for one reason or another. mm, he might be rambling, tired and hungry and fond of a possibility that exists for people out there, at the very least. it gave him hope that things could be reached, eventually.
how, he’d still have to figure it out, and it wasn’t easy— freedom was a bloody path and always had been. but, still. there’s hope for change. ]
It’s books like that that’ll make a difference in the future.
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-- but then he realizes he's thought a bit too far and he snaps his thoughts away from that kind of intimacy. Not right now. This is... it's more than enough.]
An asset? [His eyes flutter open and he glances up at Eren, though he's mostly only looking at his chin right now.] I... suppose I never looked at it that way. Of course it's necessary to have someone to keep records and to tell stories... but this is for me as much as it is for anyone else.
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he isn’t able to peek at the other’s thoughts, but there’s a subtle jump in the way his heart beats, speeds, then in seconds falls back to the steady rhythm it was used keeping, at least at this moment.
hah. it’s nothing. eren removes himself from mikleo’s head so he doesn’t see just chin, tucking it into his neck. ]
I guess that’s what makes it better. You’re doing something that comes natural. [ it’s not and end goal or anything, but more like . . . ] The rest is a consequence.
[ to eren— there’s certain beauty in that. ]
You don’t try— you are.
[ . . . has he said that to him before? whether he has or not, he’s saying so again, a compliment meant to flutter warmth like the simmering (perhaps now boiling) broth they’re waiting for. he knows he’s feeling it when his hand feels tighter. ]
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Writing sort of... runs in the family, you could say.
[Eren continues with those simple but observant words. He feels like he's heard this before, not in the same words but in that gentle tone of voice, in the warm rush that fills every corner of him like water pushing over the edges. He's similarly overwhelmed. And tired. And... grateful. So grateful.
He smiles more in his eyes than his lips.]
Something we have in common. There's no point in pretending to be something you're not.
[He touches Eren's cheek with his other hand, and shifts in his seat to get up. Someone needs to stir the pot. But before that, he leans over to press their foreheads together.]
... Thank you.
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That’s why I’m here.
[ . . . he liked him. the bond may magnify his feelings— but they’re true. he’s around mikleo because they fit, they’re alike as they are opposites that balance each other out.
he maintains contact, touch, and the fluid exchange for a little while longer before he rises to tend to their food. he touches the pan in places he shouldn’t, but no burns come of it, no jolting away. the heat felt welcoming to his skin and he’s readily absorbing temperature to keep his absolute warmest. soon enough, they should be eating, soon enough, they should be full and finally in perfect for to rest. ]
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Yeah. And I appreciate it.
[And then the moment is over. It's a comfortable sort of silence after that, where Mikleo tests the doneness of the potatoes with a fork. Satisfied, he motions for Eren to take the pan off the heat. Then Mikleo adds a little heavy cream and bits of grated cheese into the bubbling mixture, which thickens slightly as it gets cooler.]
It's done.
[He realizes belatedly that he didn't make tea, but he's barely conscious enough to blow on his soup right now. Rather than the table, he elects to curl up on one end of the couch, and he pats the seat beside him in invitation.]
Come on, this is more comfortable.
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the bowl in his hands warm him like any fire would, and the faraway thought of basking on a rock as heated as this is tempting. eren comes up close to him in a scoot, legs accommodating into a comfortable spread as he rests his elbows close to the top of his knees, and dips the bowl up for him to drink.
it’s probably scalding, but eren doesn’t react to it like he did once with the crepe. on top of hot, delicious. shoulder to shoulder, he comments with his pointed teeth poking out of a smile. ]
Just don’t sleep sitting up. [ it’s lighthearted! he’s tired, too. ] It’s really good.
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Mikleo melts against Eren's side almost. He sips his stew from a spoon, delicate and blowing on each bite. He eyes Eren's enthusiasm and thinks of that first meal they shared. All the gooey cheese that Eren nearly choked on...
It seems he's become extremely resistant to fire, if not completely immune. The smile is terribly cute though. Mikleo returns it, but softer.]
Thanks for the help. It's probably a little different from the way you normally have it. A little... seraphic twist, maybe.
[He too seems to enjoy the warm bowl in his hands. Eren makes a better heater though.]
You can stay here as long as you want, by the way. I sort of took over the loft upstairs with all the plants, but we can put a bed up there if you want to sleep outside. There's a bench and a table--I usually take a book up there.
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this is literally fine. he hums with approval when he takes another bowlful (he’s a strong independent man who don’t need no spoon), meant to mean it’s much better than what he’s used to. the intention would pick up easily between them, anyway.
look up, back down, and eren’s actually almost done with his broth. he considers what he says, smile a little like . . . butter, you could say. ]
I need to move my things. [ but a hole in the ground is easy enough to make, as was relocating his pile (that grows by the day!!), he just needed time and energy to make it work. and detail to make it mostly waterproof.
of course, if he were still alone, he’d sleep in his burrow, by himself. but after today— after today, something’s changed. ] Wherever you’re sleeping, [ because it’s dumb to stay in separate rooms, ] I’ll sleep.
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For his end of the bond, he's content, and all the warm feelings that Eren may unintentionally send over are returned. Good food and good company is the perfect potion for a breaking heart.
Tomorrow is a new day, and he can pick up the pieces then.]
Whatever you need to do. [He pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth. Oh. There's... a blush again. It makes it easier to maintain their bond and it keeps Eren close in case of feral instincts, so it makes sense from a practical standpoint.]
I roll over a lot. You might not like it.
[He smiles a bit.]
I'll have to clear some stuff off, but it's a big bed. Shouldn't be any trouble.
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[ oh, bertholdt. he hardly knew you. tagged with this is only a chip of upset, the kind mikleo wouldn’t be able to detect if he weren’t bonded, but subtle enough to be confused with some sort of interference.
his point: it won’t bother him. not saying that he’s lazy, but he’s finished his food, his shoulders are relaxing and the weight of the day is taking its toll. ]
Think you’ll make it there today?
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[He wonders at that little chip of upset he feels through the link, but he figures it's something to do with missing people from home. Mikleo feels a similar twinge of upset when he thinks about everyone else.]
I'm not sure, honestly... [He stifles a yawn. His bowl is empty now, or close enough to it that he can just tilt the rest up to his lips and swallow it, so he does. He sets the bowl on the nearest flat surface. He'll retrieve it later.]
Mmm, maybe.
[He covers a yawn with both hands, and it's a big enough yawn that tears form at the edges of his eyes.]
Ugh... I think it all just hit me at once.
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they’ll go to bed. in a minute. but for now it’s warm. he’s full. his head rests against the top of the seraph and he breathes softly into his hair. ]
We should get going, then.
[ he says this, but he doesn’t move an inch to give mikleo room to stand. if anything, his body is too inviting to stay. ]
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But he doesn't linger on much at all, actually. As Eren says they should get going, Mikleo is oddly silent.
He's already gone. To sleep, that is.]
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