amicustenebris | Duplicity

[ He nods just once. ]

Good.

[ Just so long as that's clear. Carver leans back against the wall, watching Gold. ]

I liked cooking for you. Liked what we did after, too.

[ Another subtle bloom of red in his face, and he glances away. ]

Y-yes. Likewise. Moreso than expected, really.

[ The blush is unexpected. But still - nice, Carver thinks. He doesn't comment, in case that makes Gold lock it down. But he watches, and he nods, and some of the tension bleeds out. ]

I got that feeling.

[ No judgement. Just is what it is. ]

You wanna go again? I can go again. If not, I'm gonna try and sleep, since you offered. Might even happen.

...Do you want to?

[ He sounds a little less certain of that, but that has been what he has been trying to ask since this conversation started. He doesn't need to know if he can. Obviously they can do what they must in this place. He just wants to know this -- he -- is more than just a take or leave situation, here. ]

Wouldn't offer if I didn't. Not my style.

[ He is, despite everything, an honest man. ]

But I don't force people. Not with this.

Neither do I, and you would not still be here if I believed you were trying to.

[ A frown. His misgivings are his own; he knows where he is in his head. But in spite of that, for the moment? Being alone feels like the last thing he wants right now, and that is strange for him. ]

[ Carver just shrugs. He can lie - and does, from time to time when it suits him - but right now it doesn’t, so he tells the truth as blunt and plain as it comes to him.

It keeps the world simple. ]

Just is what it is. You want to go again, I’m down with that. If not, no skin off my back. So.

[ He cants his head. He wonders if he’ll be able to sleep in this place. Maybe, maybe not. ]

What’d you want, Gold?

As much as we've discussed it, tonight's probably the least I've thought about being where we are, since I arrived. I think I'd like to go on not thinking about that for a while.

[ Because whether it was intended that way or not, Gold isn't going to get explicit if nobody else is. Not like that's an easy thing to get him to do anyway. ]

Okay.

[ Carver just nods once, accepting it. He watches Gold for a moment. ]

I’m gonna try sleeping for a while, then.

[ He had started to lift his hand, either to offer it or to wave the way back toward the room, and he freezes mind-motion, then lowers it back to his side. ]

...Of course.

[ He gestures back the way they had come in. ]

Last door on your left.

[ Hmm. Carver notes the gesture, and all the things it might or might not say. Something to think about later. He doesn’t dig into it.

Might, one day. But right now he’s tired and had enough of an endorphin rush - the thrill of it since faded - that he might actually be able to manage some sleep. Maybe not for long, but an hour or two - that’d be nice.

Might even happen.

Carver gives Gold one last nod and then turns, heading back. He doesn’t take his boots or any of his layers off once he’s inside, and keeps a knife close at hand.

Old habit at this point, written all the way down in his DNA. Some things you just don’t shake. He curls onto his side, and he faces the door, and he closes his eyes.

Maybe he’ll manage a few hours. Wouldn’t that be something? ]

[ Whatever Gold's misgivings, after cleaning up a little himself, he plants himself in the living room area that's under all the windows and skylight -- all less oppressive to him when there's stars above and not the sun. By the light of a lamp, he quietly sees to some sewing. Fabric isn't hard to come by and he only needs simple materials to make the clothing he prefers to wear, and it's something simple but time-consuming to dive into when he has no desire to sleep -- and he isn't much of a channel surfer.

Sleep isn't really something he needs unless he overdoes it in the magic department; like eating, it is something he might do because he wishes to. ]

[ There aren’t any dreams - or at least none that Carver can remember - but he snaps awake before long, tense and aware, adrenaline flooding his system - proof enough of a nightmare, or some unconscious tick, some threat or another, that jolted him back to the moment. There’s nothing, though. Just the room and it’s four walls and - presumably - Gold somewhere out there. Doing whatever it is he does at this hour.

Carver drags a hand through his hair, feeling nothing but empty. He doesn’t like the size of the room, how things loom in the shadows. Instinct says threats are hiding there, that he needs to control his environment and shut that down. Eliminate any hiding places that could be used against him.

Sometimes he just can’t sleep. Sometimes he crams himself into closets or underneath beds because that’s simpler, easier to control, but there are things you just don’t do around other people.

That’s one of them.

He lies on his side for a while, blade in hand. Trying to control his breathing, to settle. It doesn’t work.

Great. He gets up without a word, cat-quiet, and decides he’ll just leave. Go wander out in the dark for a while. But of course Gold’s still up, because fuck Carver and his perfectly reasonable desire to bolt before he starts pacing like a dog in a too-small cage, and - sewing, it looks like.

Huh.

Carver stills. It’s late. And he is so fucking tired. ]

Can’t sleep, huh. Guess it’s going around.

[ Gold sets aside the shirt that he is hemming, folding his hands in his lap. ]

This isn't the most familiar situation for either of us, I think.

[ That will be less confusing than I don't really need to.

In the calculations of their lives this nice is still a small fraction, but he saw enough to know Carver was more relaxed earlier than he is now. But how he addresses that, if he is to -- that is going to take some deciding. ]

[ Understatement, Carver thinks, and keeps his distance. He watches Gold and Gold watches him, the two of them staring at each other in the middle of the goddamn night. Both of them unable to settle, apparently. ]

I don’t sleep much.

[ There are reasons. He doesn’t feel like explaining he’s got a fun, fun case of PTSD and a thing about watching his corners. What would it get him, if he explained? ]

Guessing you don’t either.

...Is that a preferred state of being or am I hearing that I should have tired you more?

[ That's a risk. He knows it is, but he also thought it the second he saw him coming out, and that has to mean something. ]

[ Carver’s eyebrows go up. That’s bold, considering how careful Gold was earlier about laying down lines. About emphasizing the choice, and lack of obligation. ]

Nobody likes insomnia, Gold. It just happens.

[ Carver tips his head back. ]

Think you could? Tire me out?

[ A genuine question. What they did earlier was - heavy, maybe, in a way that Carver wasn’t expecting. But it didn’t wear him out. ]

[ As far as he's concerned, no lines are crossed if that is something Carver wants. But given how they are both very precious about what specifics they each skirt and what they choose to be blunt about, that would have required Carver to outright say that was what he wanted. ]

If that is the aim.

[ There’s a pause as Carver considers it. Before this place, he didn’t do casual sex. Hadn’t for years. He barely touched anyone at all. Just how it went. Necessity, the rules of survival. His family above all else - and they were family, no one he wanted like that. It would have ruined things, if he let himself want them like that.

It’s different here. And he cannot sleep.

Carver shrugs. A casual gesture, except for how his eyes never once leave Gold’s. ]

Then yeah. That’s the aim.

[ Gold rises in a smooth motion and crosses toward the dining area and the master, pausing before he's out of sight to turn back and look at him. ]

Come along, then.

[ That’s simple, then. Carver doesn’t dawdle or question. He just tips his head back and follows without a word. Curious to see what Gold does, what he considers a good way to tire someone out. ]

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