Fandom Island Museum, Thursday Daytime

[hasaknightjob]

Steven hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary on his way into work that morning. Perhaps because he'd been so focused on getting there.

It wasn't until he arrived that he tripped over a suitcase in the front doorway. He bit back a curse as he glared at it.

There on the suitcase was the word: Lesser.

That didn't help Steven's desire to glare, actually. He grabbed the suitcase and hauled it behind the Welcome Desk. On his way there he spotted others: Unwanted and Uninteresting.

A memory of a few years back came to Steven. He clamped down on any feelings of Marc he could possibly put a hold on so that whatever this was didn't manifest something for him too.

"You're not getting him," Steven said aloud to... whatever this was. "You can't have him."

Behind the Welcome Desk was another suitcase.

Unreal.

Steven shoved that one under the desk as hard as he could. He then stood there, his eyes closed, and tried his best to breathe slowly and calmly.

"It's fine," he said. "Absolutely fine. I can handle this."

Behind him, near the staircase to the second floor, was a battered and worn trunk. The word on that was ANGER.

Steven didn't see the trunk. Which was fine. It wasn't his anyway.

[open!]

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

"You don't have to though," Steven said. "I love you as you are. You protect me in ways no one else does."

Marc might feel a little guilty about that but he wouldn't dispute the truth of the statement.

[pocketpretzels]

"It doesn't bother you?" Watts said. "That I'm not- that I can't- hold up my own, in a fight?"

[hasaknightjob]

"I only can because of Marc and the suit," Steven pointed out. "Why would I judge you for skills I don't have either?"

[pocketpretzels]

"Plenty of people judge me for plenty of things," Watts said. "Though- you've never been among them, that much is true."

[hasaknightjob]

"I don't care for fighting anyway," Steven said. "Only do it myself as a last resort. Much prefer that you do what you can to get to safety."

[pocketpretzels]

"Oh, we are aligned in that respect," Watts said. "It's the sort of skill I would make use of for defense only."

[hasaknightjob]

"Good." Steven reached over to rub Llewellyn's arm, taking care around the scar tissue. "I'd rather you get no more of these, thank you."

[pocketpretzels]

"Also aligned in that," Watts agreed. "Twice was two too many."

Even if one of those had been self-inflicted.

[hasaknightjob]

"Glad we're in agreement there," Steven said. He leaned over to place a very gentle kiss on top of where the scar tissue was.

[pocketpretzels]

Watt shivered, although not unpleasantly. "If you could also avoid being hurt, please," he added.

[hasaknightjob]

"I'll do my best," Steven promised as he sat back up. "Don't look to leap into danger or fights if I can help it."

[pocketpretzels]

"Suppose that's all I can ask, given the- everything," Watts acknowledged.

[hasaknightjob]

"There's always the suit," Steven reminded him. "If I do get hurt. Which I'd like not to, to be clear."

[pocketpretzels]

"I know," Watts said. "You'll heal quickly enough. That's not the same as experiencing no pain."

[hasaknightjob]

"No," Steven agreed, since he could still remember having spears put through him. "It's not as bad as the same without the suit? But hardly fun by any means."

[pocketpretzels]

"And I don't care for it either way," Watts said. "So. Avoiding. When possible."

[hasaknightjob]

Steven opened his mouth, frowned, and looked thoughtful.

"I was going to sort of jokingly suggest we take up knitting," Steven explained, so Llewellyn wouldn't feel left out of his thoughts. "Then I realized suggesting that as something safe's probably a good way to make sure you stab yourself with one of the needles."

[pocketpretzels]

"I... don't know that I'd be all that suited to knitting, in any case," Watts admitted.

Given his- general sort of issues with most things involving a certain sort of manual dexterity.

Oh, look. There was a messy-looking sack with 'UNCOORDINATED' scrawled on it, also messily.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven glared at the bag. "You're good at mending. I like the way you take care of my things when they need it."

[pocketpretzels]

"Mending is simple. Straightforward," Watts said.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven gave Llewellyn a kiss on the cheek. "Shame there's no bag that says 'feels loved.' Because I do, when you take care of me."

[pocketpretzels]

"Much as I do when I come home to find you've prepared dinner," Watts admitted.

Which wasn't to say Watts never took care of dinner on his own, but on average Steven did so more often.

[hasaknightjob]

"Yeah?" Steven smiled. Not that they could see this with the door closed, but some of Steven's bags in the lobby started to fade. "Makes you feel as special as that? That's nice. I'm glad."

[pocketpretzels]

"It's a wonderful feeling, coming home and smelling something delicious, knowing that- knowing that you took the time and effort to make something nice. For me. For us."

[hasaknightjob]

"Just like it's nice you saw my things needed help and you took care of it," Steven said. "No being asked. Catching the pieces before they fall, so to speak."

Steven might have been talking about more than clothes just then.