James is very much fooling himself, except that the things he's fooling himself about being able to get are mostly things people should have, like not living in constant fear of loss. It's a mess.
"Once a schoolteacher," Jedao teases, instead of digging deeper into it.
"Mm," Gonou agrees, letting it go. He doesn't think he understands James Flint well enough to give Jedao any useful advice, and rambling isn't that helpful.
"One has to be flexible with one's pedagogy for the situation at hand," he says instead, light and amused.
"I wish I had nice things to tell you about. Maybe I should get a pet." It's only idle musing though; he has enough responsibilities already, and it wouldn't be fair, he thinks, to get a living creature he knows won't be his priority.
"I am fully prepared to switch a few hundred dust jackets around just to be annoying if he was a prick to you," Jedao promises, loyally and immediately. He's pretty sure he could get James on board with that.
"He didn't do anything to me," Gonou says, on a soft chuckle, and nuzzles into Jedao's hair. "It's just -- I got upset over that punishment he's giving Daniel."
"Ah," Jedao says softly, then catches Gonou's hand, tugs it up to his mouth to press soft kisses on the knuckles. "I would still love you if you were a lizard," Jedao tells him. "Although why that's supposed to be monstrous, I don't know."
Gonou falls silent for a long moment, losing himself in lazy kisses.
Eventually, he says, half a whisper, "I'd -- like to stay with you. Wherever you want to go after you're done here." If he graduates by then. If it's possible. He's choosing not to worry about all the things that could ruin that plan.
Jedao makes a soft, punched-out sound. It's shock without nearly as much surprise, because he knows Gonou, how tightly he binds himself, how close they already are. They even sort of talked about it before. Sort of. But it's still so much he could never have asked for, could never have imagined six months ago.
"Sometimes," he says finally, squeezes his eyes shut. "I lay awake at night and try to think what I could do in your tea shop." The one he doesn't have, the one he's only thought about.
"Take care of the gardens? Wash dishes? If you wanted to drink tea for sixty years, I'd still want you there," Gonou says quietly, threading his fingers through Jedao's hair. "Or -- if you'd rather go to another world, one more like yours. I could learn to pilot a ship."
"I will admit I mostly ended up with fantasies of sitting at your feet in front of a fire. In my head your tea room always has nice armchairs and very soft carpets," Jedao confesses wryly.
"We still have gambling in space. We could trade off being card sharps and bodyguards." It had been fun, in New York. "I...it would be nice, to go somewhere machines can be people. My only friend from my world is a machine, and it'd come, I think, if I gave it somewhere else to go."
"We'd have to have nice armchairs and soft carpets wherever we go," Gonou agrees, tone a little silly, but also a little serious, because he very much likes that image himself. "And at least a screen that can display a fire."
He takes a deep breath, and ducks his chin in a tiny nod.
"Hemiola? I'd like to meet it.
"...I think it would be nice," he adds, low, "to go someplace where aliens are normal, too." For Jedao. For himself, too, because as much as he prefers to look human, he isn't anymore.
"You know, it's extremely annoying that Jedao One's new world fits all these criteria," Jedao mutters, with the faint huff of every rich kid who theoretically wants to make it on their own.
"I've been thinking I might want two deals," he admits. "So - we have time. We'll decide together?"
He says them softly, fighting back the shame that wants to creep in. Even the one that's supposedly selfless is so small, in the scheme of the Hexarchate's horrors. But Jedao One got someone to make a deal for the moths already, he said. And Jedao did the work. He did enough for the cause. He has to hold onto that, and not waver, or he thinks it could eat him alive, everything he could possibly do and hasn't, everything that isn't having his own life.
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"Once a schoolteacher," Jedao teases, instead of digging deeper into it.
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"One has to be flexible with one's pedagogy for the situation at hand," he says instead, light and amused.
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"I wish I had nice things to tell you about. Maybe I should get a pet." It's only idle musing though; he has enough responsibilities already, and it wouldn't be fair, he thinks, to get a living creature he knows won't be his priority.
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He exhales, a long breath, and walks his hand up Jedao's back to cup the back of his head.
"... I had a little bit of an argument with Jon," he murmurs.
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"If it's like the last time Jon gave him a punishment like this one, he'll get a new one whenever he says or does something he's not supposed to...."
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"Hmm-- I might be able to pull off some tasteful hairline scales," he agrees, lightly. "But I don't think the lizard nose would suit me."
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"Look," he mutters, and then completely fails to follow it up with any argument.
"I'm a simple man and I know what I like," he settles on eventually.
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"I'm very lucky that you like me," he says gently. "Claws and all."
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Eventually, he says, half a whisper, "I'd -- like to stay with you. Wherever you want to go after you're done here." If he graduates by then. If it's possible. He's choosing not to worry about all the things that could ruin that plan.
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"Sometimes," he says finally, squeezes his eyes shut. "I lay awake at night and try to think what I could do in your tea shop." The one he doesn't have, the one he's only thought about.
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"We still have gambling in space. We could trade off being card sharps and bodyguards." It had been fun, in New York. "I...it would be nice, to go somewhere machines can be people. My only friend from my world is a machine, and it'd come, I think, if I gave it somewhere else to go."
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He takes a deep breath, and ducks his chin in a tiny nod.
"Hemiola? I'd like to meet it.
"...I think it would be nice," he adds, low, "to go someplace where aliens are normal, too." For Jedao. For himself, too, because as much as he prefers to look human, he isn't anymore.
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"I've been thinking I might want two deals," he admits. "So - we have time. We'll decide together?"
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"So... if we can." Quieter, he murmurs, "I'd like that. Deciding together."
A brief hesitation, and he adds, "Why two deals?"
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He says them softly, fighting back the shame that wants to creep in. Even the one that's supposedly selfless is so small, in the scheme of the Hexarchate's horrors. But Jedao One got someone to make a deal for the moths already, he said. And Jedao did the work. He did enough for the cause. He has to hold onto that, and not waver, or he thinks it could eat him alive, everything he could possibly do and hasn't, everything that isn't having his own life.
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