crescentview | 🍇 the winter of our discontent 🍇

[In another universe, Lovecraft delivering it bluntly and Steinbeck melting at the spot. RIP JOHN STEINBECK indeed.]

[He has to take a little quick moment to really step back mentally - Lovecraft is...saying all that. That leaving him was a mistake, that Lovecraft thought it was crucial to stay, because it was so important to be here, with him, and...]

[He's...wanted? Lovecraft.....wants him?]

Ah... [A deep breath.] You really mean it. You're that sure. And that means....

[For the rest of his life...?]

It can mean whatever you want it to.

[And by that, he means...]

I understand humans have a...process, to relationships. I did not want to rush you.

[He didn't come back from his conversation with the goddess with a feather in hand, but he really is speaking in forever terms here. "Forever" in human terms is not nearly as long as it seems. It's not long enough, but it's all Lovecraft can promise.]

Oh.

[Oh.]

[For a second there, his brain was trying to save face. Pull in the reins, like some horse rider going whoah whoah whoah there before he jumped to conclusions. Lovecraft wanted to stay with him, yeah, sure, like some forever partner, sure, he can manage that, just have his squid buddy always at his side, and-]

[The word relationship comes like a particularly heavy bat to the hypothetical horse rider's head, and its feels like a dam has broken loose.]

[He lets out a little noise like a balloon losing air, cheeks now a rosy red.]

Oh.

[By now, his head is already full of thoughts, as chaotic as can be. Relationship implies...romance. Does Lovecraft want romance? Does he want to be wooed? Like, more than friends? Is he sure? Kissed? Does he give good kisses? God, I want him to give good kisses. Why did I think that. More than kisses? Wait, we haven't dated, but...wait, this is just? Is this...wait forever means...?]

[His voice cracks.]

Like.....marriage?

[Lovecraft watches completely stonefaced as Steinbeck goes through his inner emotional journey, which probably doesn't help all that much.

Eventually:]

Well...marriage is at the end of that process, yes. But first we have to date, say "I love you", date...some more, I think...?

[He is counting on his fingers as he does this, for the record.]

...and eventually form a contract of marriage. That's how it works...isn't it?

[Muttered:]

Human romance is so complicated.

[SAY "I LOVE YOU"?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?]

...Y-Yeah. [It feels like a lot of doors just got opened all at once. He raises a hand to cover his eyes, flummoxed.] I mean.

[OKAY. GATHERING HIS. FACULITIES. HOO. BREATHE IN. BREATHE OUT. LOWERING HIS HAND.]

There's like. Um. No hard rule for romance. Or order. Well, maybe there is, but...

[Hnnnrghhhh.]

We don't have to...do it like we're doing ten million steps. [He's putting the cup of hot chocolate down on the table, turning to face Lovecraft directly. He reaches out, gently places his hand on the other's.] It doesn't have to be complicated.

[Why is that such a big deal?! Why is Steinbeck getting in such a state over it?!

Lovecraft's eyebrows start furrowing in concern, but Steinbeck is able to recover before things get out of hand. He stares down at Steinbeck's hand on his, expression softening.]

Not complicated is good.

[He shifts his hand so he may hold Steinbeck's.]

But...do you actually want to do any of it? It wasn't my intention to make you anxious...

[That's the last thing he wanted. Seeing Steinbeck as distressed as he gets sometimes was a little alarming to say the least.]

[....Well, that's right. It really must be weird for him to be the anxious one. Usually he's the one telling people that Lovecraft did NOT ask for pickles, thank you.]

[Lovecraft's hand holds his, and he glances down at it, slender hand held in calloused thick fingers. After a moment, a laugh bubbles out of him. He's being so anxious over...what, exactly?]

[Lovecraft wants this. He's here now. Willing to stay with him. Why should he worry, as if this will be pulled out from underneath him like a tablecloth?]

...I do. [He finally says.] I...do want to do that sort of thing. Anything. All the things. I mean...it's you.

[A little hum, fondness seeping in to his expression.]

There couldn't be anyone better.

[Ah... That laugh. That fond smile. He wants more of that. It's a good thing Steinbeck said yes.]

I'm glad. [He voices it aloud this time. His cold, bony fingers intertwine with Steinbeck's.] I feel the same way.

[Lovecraft honestly didn't realize he could harbor such feelings after how long it's been since he last found interest in another human. But this level of contentment...he understands that by human standards, this doesn't just come from any simple friendship. They are partners, yes, but there are multiple meanings to the word "partner". He believes the two of them slot neatly into each.]

Then...let us take this at a pace we can both work with.

I like that.

[He doesn't really want to rush. He has yet to date the man officially, after all. And yet at the same time...

[And yet.......]

[He gives a little curious glance at Lovecraft, fingers flexing a little in the other's grip before holding firm.]

["Partners" could mean a lot of things. And now, there's something burning in his chest, wanting to try what he can, see what works and what doesn't.]

Want to try something right now to see if we like it? [A little pause, his voice low - his words end on a chuckle.] I think right now, I...want to kiss you.

Edited 2023-03-08 11:15 (UTC)

[A kiss, huh? Lovecraft isn't sure what got humans so into the idea of putting their lips together as a romance thing, but it's definitely a good sign if Steinbeck wants to do that with him. And he is curious to know what Steinbeck tastes like...

He nods.]

I want you to kiss me.

Then we're on the same page.

[His free hand moves up to cup over the side of the other's sunken face, soft fingertips pressing against hard cheekbones before he leans up his head. A pause - he internally worries there's a chance that the other may not like it, its always so hard to say with Lovecraft - before he meets the other's lips gently, sweetly.]

[Nothing at all major. But it somehow feels major, heart racing a little in his chest from the contact.]

[Lovecraft's eyes slide closed before Steinbeck even gets to the kiss, taking in the sensation of Steinbeck's hand against him. It's nice to have that done to him.

He almost cracks an eye back open when the kiss doesn't come immediately after, but before he can, he feels Steinbeck's lips on his own. To his surprise, it sends a delighted shiver down his spine, almost as if the joining of their lips created an electric spark.

So that's why humans like kissing so much.

He blindly tries to find a place to put his cup of unfinished hot chocolate so he give Steinbeck his full attention. The kiss that he returns is a little more needy- a little more hungry. It could be likened to when Lovecraft happens upon a particularly tasty treat. He can't get at it quickly enough.]

[He's half expecting the kiss to be short. Perhaps Lovecraft would pull back, crinkle his nose, murmur that he would have to get used to the sensation before trying something like that again. Or maybe he'd just stares down at Steinbeck and offer nothing at all in terms of reaction or expression, like water sliding off a duck's (octopus's?) back.]

[The return of the kiss in this way is a surprise. Steinbeck lets out a little nose in the midst of it, but doesn't pull away. His grip tightens slightly on the other's face, before sliding down to his neck as he meets the other's effort with a little more passion from his slide, sinking into the feeling of cool lips against his own warmth.]

[There's...nothing like it. There's something about this that's getting a little addictive, like stepping down into an abyss.]

[It's a perfect combo, hot on cold. Being right up against Steinbeck's warm body like this reminds Lovecraft of how good it felt to be tucked into bed on his first night here in Crescentview. It's the sort of warmth that makes him feel safe and at home.

It feels right, in other words.

At some point, they do have to separate just for a little bit. Lovecraft licks his lips after he pulls away a little.]

I could taste the hot chocolate on you.

[That's it. That's the first thing he's going to say about it. But his actions beforehand speak louder, surely.]

[When they separate, he has to take in a little shuddering breath as if to ground himself. That was...]

Wow.

[Something else, alright. He can't even fully explain it. Perhaps it really is that connection between them, the foundation already there, that elevates something simple into something so enjoyable.]

[His free hand moves to embrace the man, splaying against his back to keep him close.]

Haha, did you? I did too. [He laughs a little.] I think you tasted sweeter, though.

[Oh, the embrace feels nice too. Lovecraft takes the opportunity to sink into it.]

I did have more hot chocolate than you, so I suppose that makes sense...

[This intimate moment is clearly the time and place to make factual observations. At least the next one to come after he lets out a contented sigh has more significance.]

That felt nice. I like your touch...a lot.

[It's a surprise to him, but a welcome one. It might become a problem down the line when he is no longer able to receive Steinbeck's touch, but he'll have to make a conscious effort to slow down and get the most out of their time together.]

Maybe it's that. Or maybe you're naturally sweet.

[He flushes a little at the compliment, feeling warm all over - a steady heat beats through his chest, and he gazes at Lovecraft with a little lovesickness, fond as fond can be.]

I'll have to give you a lot more of it. [And now he presses a little dot of a kiss against his neck. It's nice. It's so nice to have Lovecraft here, willing, and more than happy to receive what he shares. He wants to share.] I've decided it. I'm going to spoil you so bad.

[Steinbeck would be the first to say something like that about Lovecraft. But at this point, Steinbeck has done so many firsts toward Lovecraft that he's stopped keeping count. All he knows is that this something new that he actually enjoys and he's going to savor it.

His hearing isn't what it used to be, not after the Goddess took away much of his power, but he can still faintly hear Steinbeck's heartbeat. It's louder now, to match the look Steinbeck's giving him. This, coupled with the sweet kiss against his neck, is enough to bring about another pleased shiver.

He finds himself staring back with an unintended intensity as he blurts:]

H-How are you going to spoil me?

[It's not unusual for Lovecraft to stumble over his words, but this time it's not out of nerves. It's as though he couldn't ask that question quickly enough.]

[Lovecraft is not punctual. He's not quick on the draw. "Fast" could never be used to describe him. And yet, when the words tumble out of his mouth, Steinbeck stares for a moment, a little surprised to hear it in a tone that is not quite as anxious as he expected, before he breaks out into a peal of laughter.]

Are you getting eager on me, partner? [Partner. He likes the sound of that, with new layers of meaning - his teeth shines as brightly as his eyes as he grins.] Why, make you all your favorite foods. Give you all the gifts you like. Spend time with you tryin' out whatever you want.

[A little pause as he inches closer, peppers another kiss to below his jawline.]

Even more of stuff like this, if you know what I mean. I just want you to feel good.

[It's hard not to look a little embarrassed upon being called out so clearly, but Lovecraft is also painfully honest, so...]

...Yes.

[He is very, very eager, and that eagerness only grows as Steinbeck elaborates. If he'd configured this body to an actually human temperature, there's no doubt that there would be color creeping into his face when Steinbeck goes in for another kiss. Hopefully the bashful look on his face and the slow swallowing of excitement is enough evidence for Steinbeck to enjoy.]

That sounds amazing. I am looking forward to these spoils.

[It's his turn to plant another kiss upon Steinbeck.]

Thank you, John. Thank you for being...you.

[Lovecraft's life has primarily been a subservient one. Whenever he wasn't sleeping, he functioned as a tool to further someone's goals. This is the first time anyone has wanted him around for him. Not to make him work, but to care for him and spoil him. To love him. Him! How could he not fall in love in return?

John Steinbeck is one of a kind, and Lovecraft is grateful to be his partner.]

Eagerness is a good look on you.

[He's seen it before in Lovecraft's eyes - the emotion that pulls him away from a job, or towards some chocolate pastry in a bakery. But here, Lovecraft is eager for him.]

[He catches the bob of the other's neck, a little thrill of delight singing through his chest as he meets the kiss like its as natural as breathing.]

Ah. [That statement catches him by slight surprise, his eyelashes fluttering as he draws back, bright blue staring into dull purple. His hand tickles over the back of the other's neck, drawing a little figure eight as he lets the words settle into his heart and mind. He wants to remember them forever.] I should be saying that. Thank you for being you.

[A kiss to the nose, a kiss to his lips, a kiss to his chin, eyes a little wet. Must be raining in here.]

Thank you for everything, honestly.

[A figure eight...the symbol of infinity. Eternity. That certainly gives Lovecraft further confirmation that this is also what Steinbeck wants.

By the time Steinbeck finishes his flurry of kisses, he'll find that a small smile has crept onto Lovecraft's lips. A herculean effort, all for him.]

I think...we'll both be here for a while if we keep this up, so...

[He pulls up his sleeve to dab at Steinbeck's eyes. For once, he doesn't fret about his partner being brought to tears. If he's reading the situation correctly, surely they can only be from joy.]

You're welcome.

You sound like you don't mind it.

[Lovecraft can be a sort of an abyss, he thinks. A mysterious pit to wander into and be lost forever, like the depths of the ocean, almost never seen, altogether unknown.]

[But here, he wants to embrace it, sink into it, hold it close, infuse it with what little warmth he has. Perhaps that's pathetically human of him, but...if Lovecraft doesn't mind, then why should he?]

Mm. [He makes a little face at his tears being dabbed, but he doesn't mind it, snuggling in a little more.] I'm never going to let you go.

[Once Lovecraft is satisfied with handling Steinbeck's tears, he shifts to fully embrace him. The warmth of Steinbeck resting against him feels very nice- like it was meant to be there. He could get used to this.

Except a thought occurs to him.]

You're going to have to at some point, John... How will we cook dinner attached to each other like this?

[But in a metaphorical sense, he's glad to hear those words. He has no intention of letting go either. Steinbeck will never be lonely again, not on Lovecraft's watch.]

🍇 the winter of our discontent 🍇

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