theydrewfirstblood | [CALDERA] Inbox

[Finnick parted ways with Nina, then made the mistake of looking back at the comments on Gadriel's post, and he's fuming mad all over again. He starts making his way to Sylph territory and messages John.]

Is it ok if I come over? It's been a fucking day and I need to just. I don't know. Vent maybe

If you're busy it's cool I'll go punch something

Come on over. I’m home, just got done helping out downstairs.

Just in case—

[John sends the location of the tavern to Finnick—he mentioned it the morning he spent at Finnick’s, but they were pretty absorbed in each other, and neither one of them had caffeinated yet.

To that end, John goes about trying to put together some coffee and food while he waits for Finnick to arrive. He’s got some leftover bread and cheese from his lunch earlier, some fresh venison jerky he just made recently…

And he gets it all done with time to spare to feed Delmar, and go back to nursing what will be a rather charming bruise on his jaw in a couple days.

Because ‘helping out downstairs’ consisted of ejecting a really miserable prick from the tavern, and he had a solid fifteen pounds on John. Not insurmountable, but he’s seriously considering dragging a fresh steak out of his icebox to put on his jaw while he waits for Finnick to show up…]

Thanks.

[Finnick knew the general whereabouts, but not the exact address, so he uses that to navigate through The Warrens. It's an area he's avoided until now, both because it's seedy, and because he's not exactly sure what kinds of feelings or memories a brothel would spur for him and hadn't particularly wanted to find out. As he walks, he's almost run over by a haphazard cyclist who's shouting something incomprehensible, and he's asked for spare Bones by a couple of people, one of whom curses at him when he says no. He wonders to himself why John would choose to live here, when he could live anywhere.

The apartment is atop a tavern that's just as run-down as the rest, and Finnick's brow creases a bit as he climbs the staircase and knocks on the door.]

Rrrrreeeaow!

[Delmar’s pronouncement is muffled, but very audible through the door. Footsteps follow, then the sound of a bolt unlatching is heard before the door opens—

—and Delmar darts out, but just to wind around Finnick’s legs with more meowing. Hello, Dad’s human. Where have you been? Why aren’t you petting him? Do you have food? You’re still not petting him, why aren’t you petting him?

John bends to scoop Delmar up with a yowl of protest that cuts off when he drapes the big cat across his shoulders. Flashing Finnick a smile, he reaches for his hand and guides him inside, giving him a quick kiss hello.]

Ignore him, he just ate and he’s a glutton claiming I starve him…hi.

[The place around them is…not terrible? It’s small, shabby, but tidy and surprisingly clean. It is also, however, rather impersonal: anyone could live here, save for the recurve bow hanging by the door along with its quiver and arrows, all handmade. There’s also a small writing desk being used for tool work—various creations made of bone and other natural findings scattered across it.

Beyond that…it’s nearly impossible to tell who the place belongs to, much less whether or not they’re comfortable.]

You hungry or thirsty? I got coffee, and some stuff to snack on…

[Finnick laughs as Delmar circles him, greedy for attention, and bends down to pet the cat until John picks him up. He steps in, kissing John back and continuing to pet the cat that's now on his shoulders.]

Hi. Oh, uh... [He pauses to think for a moment, like he genuinely doesn't know if he's hungry or thirsty.] Yeah, I should probably eat, I forgot all about food for a while today.

[He was too emotional. He still feels a little too on edge to have an appetite, but he'll try to nibble anyway. But then he catches sight of the bruise growing on John's jaw, and leans in to look at it, touching his chin gently to angle his face into the light.]

John, what happened? [CONCERN. Finnick's mind, in this state, can only come up with worst-case scenarios.]

[John is just about to head to his ramshackle little kitchen when Finnick is suddenly on him, tilting his head to look at—ah. The angry red patch of swelling is probably starting to darken.

He huffs a little, but his smile is fond, and he doesn’t try to stop Finnick, just reaches up to rub his arm in a gesture of comfort.]

Surly drunk who’s bigger than me, that’s all. I got a deal with the owner, he lets me grab a lot of my meals for free, and I let him come get me if he has a troublemaker he needs to get rid of. Punch was shit, bruise’ll be gone in a couple days. C’mon—lemme feed you. Then you can fuss if you wanna, promise.

[Finnick's turn to huff. He's angry at this surly drunk man.]

Bastard. If I see Mr. Troublemaker, he's getting a trident up the ass.

[Speaking of trident, Finnick has his, which he takes off and leaves by the door next to the bow. He follows John into the kitchen, allowing himself to be fed.]

You know you can live anywhere, right? Any abandoned house, you can just... Take it. And the stipend's good for rent even in some pretty nice areas, I think. You could live somewhere you don't regularly get decked in the face.

[John is just a little bit surprised by the threat of violence. Not in a negative way—it doesn’t scare him or bother him or even unsettle him.

It makes him feel…really safe. Has the corners of his mouth tugging up and his whole expression softening—has tension draining from his shoulders enough that Delmar has to adjust his spot draped across them, then gives up, licks Finnick’s hand in farewell, and jumps delicately to the floor.

Catching Finnick’s fingers, John kisses them and nods for Finnick to follow into his kitchen.

As he moves around to fix a couple plates with food—which is good stuff, thick crusty bread and fresh cheese, the jerky chewy and not tough—Finnick’s observation borne of concern just makes him smile further.]

I know—and I don’t get hit all that often.

[His smile dims just barely, more out of resignation than any real upset as he offers Finnick a plate.]

Besides, I prefer to earn my keep, and…this is what I’m good at.

[This is all I’m good at. It’s an unspoken implication, but it’s there.

And, for John, it’s true.

Rather than dwell, he picks up his own plate and presses his shoulder into Finnick’s, steering him back towards his living room so they can sit down together and eat.]

[Finnick thanks John with a smile as he's handed the plate. Being fed by him is nice, and also a big deal, given how much of an issue food security is in Panem.

He plops down on the couch and immediately leans into John, sighing in mild exhaustion.]

You're already earning your keep here by doing quests to help the Leaders. You don't need to add extra violence onto that. Being good at it doesn't mean you have to do it, if you don't like it.

[He's quiet for a moment, biting the jerky, deciding if he wants to say more on that, and decides sure, why not...]

Remember meeting me at the lingerie show? I was there because I thought I should be. Because I was good at it, I thought it was the only thing I was good at, and it was what I was used to. I didn't want to be there, not as a model at least. Some kind people there told me I shouldn't do it unless I actually wanted to. I realized... No, I don't want to do that kind of work here. That realization freed me to start thinking about what I actually do want, and now I'm so much happier.

[When Finnick leans into him, John balances his plate on his leg and shifts to wrap his arm around Finnick's shoulders without even thinking. The line of warmth against his side is comforting, and that little sigh of weariness--John just wants to soothe it away.

Whatever shitstorm he had today seems to have taken a lot of the wind out of his sails. John wants to give it back to him.

...but every word Finnick says hits home. Bullseye, dead center, and just keeps hitting. For John, it's all true. This is where he belongs because this is what he's good at...this is really all he knows. All he's ever known.]

...it's not just a job. It's--all I've ever known.

[The admission leaves him feeling kind of hollow as he thinks back to growing up, losing Mom, enduring his father's benders and beatings. They were the things that sent him looking for his mother's people, and even there they taught him more of the same. The good parts, the ways that the fight and the hunt could not only keep him safe, but provide for him and help others. Help him connect to his ancestors and the land, help him be more his mother's son than his father's.

He tries to think of a life where he's doing more than getting by. Where he doesn't have to hurt to keep going. Where there isn't any violence, any pain, any fear or lack. He tries...and he can't imagine it.

Pausing for a bite of cheese, he chews thoughtfully as he lets himself think about the other part: what he wants.

After a long, silent moment during which Delmar leaps up onto the couch near Finnick and pads up to walk along the back, stretching out behind both men with a booming purr for a nap, John shakes his head a little.]

I think...maybe I'd like something different? But--I don't even know where to start. I've never had another job, another way of getting by...a home.

[And that realization--yeah, that stings a little.]

[The arm around him is warm and comforting, and though Finnick has many friends and places to go when he's upset, he does like the idea that John can be a go-to for him, someone who probably wouldn't even question him showing up unannounced.

He looks over at John's face sympathetically at his admissions, and turns to face him more.]

I understand that, I really do. It's hard to know what you want when you've never had the option to choose. It takes time. But... This is your chance, baby! [His tone is encouraging but soft, reaching a hand to John's shoulder, his eyes sparkling as he uses this endearment, sincerely, for the first time.] In Caldera, you're free. You can live anywhere, do anything, become anyone, at least for the time you're here. I would love to help you figure out where to start. We need to find you something better, because you deserve better. Build you a life here that makes you happy.

[He squeezes that shoulder, giving a small smile.]

[The way he touches John like that, uses that endearment--it lights a flame in his belly that has nothing to do with arousal and everything to do with...stories by the fire on the res. Making fry breath with Mom when he was little. The night Delmar Barry figured out John had a crush on him and let him down so painfully gently and with such forgiveness John only fell for him harder, and the most incredible friendship he'd ever known in his life was born.

John might be falling in love, and he doesn't want to stop.

So that little smile he gets, Finnick calling him 'baby,' looking so fucking happy at the idea of trying to find John something...'better?' He's completely helpless against that shining star of pure joy and just smiles, nodding.]

Yeah, okay. I'd like that.

[Unable to resist, he tips his head to press his cheek to the hand Finnick has on his shoulder.]

I'd love that.

Mrrrrrt!

[Delmar chirps his approval and curls his fluffy tail around the back of Finnick's neck in solidarity.

You...he likes you, Dad's human.]

[He moves his hand to John's cheek, and kisses his other one. For a moment, he forgets about everything else that happened today, focused only on John and the warm feeling that soft voice gives him.

He laughs lightly at Delmar's reaction, leaning further into the couch and John and cat.]

Good. We'll start with a place to live that's actually safe. Because I definitely didn't feel very safe walking here through your neighbourhood. You know you can live in any territory, too? Doesn't have to be Sylph.

[That gets a puzzled little frown from John--a tiny sliver of that lack of regard for himself and his own comfort that is riven so deep, it's not a case of self esteem, just...sky is blue, water is wet, this living arrangement is Fine. John.exe has encountered an error, please re-enter the data.

He lifts his head, looking around in genuine confusion.]

Seems safe enough--I mean, no one's ever tried to break in...

[And, in his poor messed up brain, that constitutes safe, regardless as to the dangers outside his door. The idea that Finnick doesn't feel safe in his neighborhood, however, registers plenty. Also...]

I actually didn't know that. Figured I'm Sylph, oughta live here. But...hmmm. Not 'squid' enough to live in the ocean, maybe...I could move back to Grey Ward?

[He peers at Finnick hopefully. How do you feel about that, Finnick? Is that safe enough? Is that a good place to start 'a NeW lIfE?' Is he doing it right?]

Yet. [Finnick very very lightly taps his fingertip on the bruised part of John's jaw to make his point.] And I got harassed on my way in, which would be generally nice to avoid.

[He nods and smiles at that suggestion.]

Yeah, Grey Ward is nice. I'd say you could live with me, I do have an open room, but that might be a touch too soon. [He laughs.]

[John, however, is not laughing. He's looking at Finnick...and he's looking very, intensely thoughtful.

Because John likes to earn his keep. And he said there's an open room, he's not...asking John to move in with him, to share a room. That would be too soon. Having his own space, though, living communally?

That's--actually really good for John. He's used to the Army, he's come to realize he doesn't do well living alone, just fucking look at him. He also likes to be useful: he doesn't have to fight for his keep if he lives there, but he can do other things. Share game when he hunts, maybe even fix things...and the fry bread did seem to go over well, so he knows he can cook.

So he looks at Finnick, head tipped, eyes squinted, purses his lips thoughtfully...]

Asking me to share yours would be too soon, yeah, but not...would you be okay with that? Maedhros and Stiles, too? They'd need to like cats--hell, could even do a trial run if anyone's unsure. Come stay for a week and see if it gels. Only if you're interested, though: I was serious about giving you space to figure things out after...

[John trails off, feeling chilled at the very thought of Finnick, dead--so much so that his arm tightens around Finnick to pull him close so he can tuck his head under his chin and just...feel him, warm and alive in his arms.]

[Finnick hums and looks away for a moment to give the idea some actual thought, not wanting to make such a commitment from a place of people-pleasing.

He doesn't want John to live alone- he imagines that's going about as well as Finnick living alone did. He'd really enjoyed having John over after the volcano business.]

I can ask them. They both like animals. I'd enjoy living with you, definitely. My only worry is that if things didn't work out between us romantically, or whatever, I wouldn't want that to fuck up your living situation...

[Finnick has, thus far, purposely avoided taking roommates he has a sexual relationship with, for similar reasons. But things with John feel a bit different. He feels more serious, and closer to some sort of commitment with John, than he has with anyone else.]

[John just shrugs, unfazed.]

I've been without a roof over my head before, don't scare me--but, if you're worried? Make you a deal: if we don't work out, there's an inn in Grey Ward where I can stay 'till I find something, and I promise not to come back to the Warrens. So I have a plan, it wouldn't be me bearing up under bad circumstances or getting kicked out to nothing. That make you feel better?

[Finnick nods, slowly.]

Okay. I have lots of Bones, so I'd cover the cost of that temporary lodging. That's a non-negotiable of the deal.

[He touches the kitty cat's fluffy tail.]

I'm sure Buddy and Delmar would get along, too, they're both really friendly.

Considering he got pissed the last time he tried to make friends with a griffin and it didn't want to be his pal? Yeah, I think they'll be good.

[John is grinning like an idiot. He can't help it, because...

Because his mind keeps going back to that night after the volcano. Eating stew by the fire, going to sleep with Finnick in his arms--rare, precious, good memories of waking up in the Vietnam jungle with soft voices, snoring, or Danforth singing softly to himself in the dark lulling him back to sleep again. Hearing those things outside his bedroom door.

He'd be more worried, like Finnick, if it were just the two of them, or if he didn't know his housemates. Maedhros and Stiles, though, he knows and likes them. They're friends, too. He's...]

Is it weird I'm kinda...excited about this?

[He leans over to kiss Finnick, while Delmar rams his head into first Finnick's temple, then John's, nuzzling them both as they part.]

If it helps, I'm excited to try it out with Maedhros and Stiles, too. I like 'em both, this...this could be fun.

[And it's clear on John's face that this is something new and exciting to consider: having his living arrangements be something that's going to make him actually happy.]

Of course not. That's the point, silly.

[He kisses John back, smiling broadly as he wraps his arm up around his neck and puts his hand in his fluffy brown hair.]

It's a great house, you'll be on the beach and near town as well, you won't be alone, Maedhros and Stiles are great, they cook good food, you'll get to live with Buddy too... And, most importantly, me!

[A grin, smug.]

OH! And we can do more pranks!

[John laughs at that, because of course he's gone on the pranks.]

I've created a fuckin' monster.

[It comes out like an endearment with the size of his smile, the way he wraps his arms around Finnick to hold him close as he curls his own around John's neck...

And the way his eyes shut and he tips his head into Finnick's fingers in his hair, not so different from a cat like Delmar begging for pets, makes it hard to hear it as anything but.]

We're all doomed to be haunted by joy buzzers 'n hot sauce in our ketchup.

[Finnick giggles, then kisses John on the cheek, several times in rapid succession.]

You just unleashed a monster that was already in that, buried deep in depressing shit. Because you make me so happy.

[He lays his head on John's shoulder, face tucked into his neck a bit.]

Already forgot what I was upset about earlier.

[CALDERA] Inbox

Day of Gadriel post, text to start, @odaring

text response; @lonewolf

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CW: child abuse, alcoholism

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CW: the gentlest of allusions to outdated homophobia

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