[ Roman's place is back to being ridiculously huge now that he's graduated. The curtains are drawn and there's hardly any lights on, and to say Roman looks like shit would be an underestimation: he's lacking his usual wardrobe, wearing a plain t-shirt and pajama bottoms that still look more expensive than they should be. ]
Hey.
[ His voice is rough, too. Probably because he's been crying. He holds the door open for Jedao, glancing briefly at the mug as he lets him in. The place itself could use some tidying, although there's still a distinct lack of personal objects around the place, sans one or two he's picked up from the barge. ]
[ There it is. The hug. Just asking for it is a thing he can do--and Jedao isn't even rolling his eyes. They haven't even gotten past the small talk Roman was fully expecting to endure, what little layers of attitude left immediately shedding.
He hugs Jedao like a lifeline, and he's proud he doesn't cry. Holds it, even, burying his face into the half-crook of Jedao's neck, pulling away only after a few moments. ]
Thank you. [ He sounds like he's just been chided for some reason, sniffing slightly as he looks down. ]
[ It's Roman's turn to laugh at the absurdity of it, gingerly holding it by the handle and then just taken aback. It's bizarre. It's silly.
It's handmade, and that's what makes it perfect. Roman laughs again, harder, though the giggle is high for a reason that's not delight. It's awful close to him about to cry. He draws it in like he's about to hug it despite the temperature, breathing out. ]
You can come in.
[ He needs to move. He does so, it just takes him a few seconds, staring at the cup like he's never seen anything like it before. He doesn't have much, but what he does have that's personal is almost exclusively from the barge. From people like Jedao.
Drink it, it's supposed to be soothing or whatever.
[Which it is - lavender and camomile and a good dollop of honey. Also, once he finishes the tea, he'll see, at the very bottom of the mug, a one-line doodle like something scribbled in the margins of a boring schoolbook: a little cartoon dick and balls, for laughs.
Jedao steps inside, giving Roman a firm, warm squeeze on the shoulder, even though he's already had the first hug, and gently towing him toward whatever looks like the comfiest furniture.]
[ Roman's place, while only slightly cluttered--he's surprisingly neat, just not right now--is expansive, a sprawling New York City skyline below the expensive penthouse.
Roman himself is clinging to the cup like a lifeline, unable to quite look at Jedao in the eye just yet, halfway through and yet to receive the hidden message. His words are small and mumbled. ]
[Jedao tells him mildly, steering them to the least uncomfortable looking couch and sliding an arm around Roman's shoulders, encouraging him to lean into Jedao without having to meet his eyes.]
Trust me, I'm a space man.
[And what do you know! They're in space right now. Technically.]
[ It's bleak, but hey, he's joking a little: he does lean into Jedao's half-steering, face still leaning on Jedao as he takes a sip. When was the last time he had someone make tea for him? His mom?
He takes another sip. This isn't his mom. This is actually nice, and sweet. And-- ]
Did you draw a cock and balls on the bottom? [ That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done. ]
[ It doesn't mean he's disinterested. It means he has to do the toxically masculine move of complaining about it first, just to show how manly and above it all he is. ]
Actually he means 'I was never a drill sergeant but I've met some and I could destroy you completely in ten minutes,' but this is the consequence for making innuendo as often as he does do it.
"Come downstairs. I have programs and stuff for it," Jedao tells him, putting the FRIENF mug into the sink - then after a second of realzing Roman definitely isn't going to wash it himself, rinsing it for a few seconds before he turns to go.
Roman doesn't bat an eye when Jedao does--it's kindness but a type that Roman doesn't even think to thank, he's so used to it--and he's already making his way out of his room.
"And maybe some more of that tea?" he asks hopefully.
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ok where are you
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you don't want me to come to you?
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no
yeah thats better
i cant think
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[He knocks less than a minute later. He is holding a hand-painted coffee mug that says "#1 FRIENF" on it, and is filled with soothing lavender tea.]
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Hey.
[ His voice is rough, too. Probably because he's been crying. He holds the door open for Jedao, glancing briefly at the mug as he lets him in. The place itself could use some tidying, although there's still a distinct lack of personal objects around the place, sans one or two he's picked up from the barge. ]
Um. Thank you, for, uh--coming.
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Anytime.
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He hugs Jedao like a lifeline, and he's proud he doesn't cry. Holds it, even, burying his face into the half-crook of Jedao's neck, pulling away only after a few moments. ]
Thank you. [ He sounds like he's just been chided for some reason, sniffing slightly as he looks down. ]
What's--what does that say?
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[He hands the mug over.]
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It's handmade, and that's what makes it perfect. Roman laughs again, harder, though the giggle is high for a reason that's not delight. It's awful close to him about to cry. He draws it in like he's about to hug it despite the temperature, breathing out. ]
You can come in.
[ He needs to move. He does so, it just takes him a few seconds, staring at the cup like he's never seen anything like it before. He doesn't have much, but what he does have that's personal is almost exclusively from the barge. From people like Jedao.
From frienfs. ]
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[Which it is - lavender and camomile and a good dollop of honey. Also, once he finishes the tea, he'll see, at the very bottom of the mug, a one-line doodle like something scribbled in the margins of a boring schoolbook: a little cartoon dick and balls, for laughs.
Jedao steps inside, giving Roman a firm, warm squeeze on the shoulder, even though he's already had the first hug, and gently towing him toward whatever looks like the comfiest furniture.]
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Roman himself is clinging to the cup like a lifeline, unable to quite look at Jedao in the eye just yet, halfway through and yet to receive the hidden message. His words are small and mumbled. ]
Thank you, Jedao.
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[Jedao tells him mildly, steering them to the least uncomfortable looking couch and sliding an arm around Roman's shoulders, encouraging him to lean into Jedao without having to meet his eyes.]
Trust me, I'm a space man.
[And what do you know! They're in space right now. Technically.]
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[ It's bleak, but hey, he's joking a little: he does lean into Jedao's half-steering, face still leaning on Jedao as he takes a sip. When was the last time he had someone make tea for him? His mom?
He takes another sip. This isn't his mom. This is actually nice, and sweet. And-- ]
Did you draw a cock and balls on the bottom? [ That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done. ]
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I'm going to treasure it always. Put it in a museum. You know how many people would pay for this?
[ This is easier. This is much easier. Jedao knows exactly how to handle him, which should annoy him, but it doesn't. ]
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[Jedao gives him another loose, warm squeeze around the shoulders.]
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Hey, Jed, you... How do you turn your brain off when you're going through something shitty? You've done it before, right?
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That metaphor got away from me, sorry.
The simplest way to jam a channel is with noise. For your brain, that means sensory stuff.
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So, what? Masturbate until it all goes away? I'm already shooting dust.
[ It's a joke. Mostly. He's trying, at the very least. ]
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[ It doesn't mean he's disinterested. It means he has to do the toxically masculine move of complaining about it first, just to show how manly and above it all he is. ]
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[Jedao gives him an absolutely evil grin.]
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[ Oh, wait, unless he means that exercise--Roman gets the joke a split second too late, and points. ]
You fucking dick.
Fine, then. Teach me how to, you know. "Meditate"
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"Come downstairs. I have programs and stuff for it," Jedao tells him, putting the FRIENF mug into the sink - then after a second of realzing Roman definitely isn't going to wash it himself, rinsing it for a few seconds before he turns to go.
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"And maybe some more of that tea?" he asks hopefully.
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