kobes | inbox for saltburnt

Do you want the journal I won? It's making me insane.

What's the matter with it? And which award was it for? I got two ridiculous things. And a book, from the library, that I need to show you.

So did I. This one's for "worst at pretending I have my life together"
It keeps rearranging everything I write. Which isn't very helpful at fixing the problem everyone thinks I have.

What book?

Oh, that's insulting. That's VERY insulting. You have your life together just fine, Tim. Do you want to burn it? We can burn it, if you'd like. It's Well, it's hard to explain. It's about me. It came down the chute.

Maybe. There has to be a trick to it though, maybe we can put our heads together and figure it out.

A book about you? It's not smut, is it? I don't need to read that.

Maybe you can help me figure out mine? I'm sure there's something insulting or sexual about it. Those are the two things this place knows how to do. No, no, it's not SMUT. It's sort of A metaphor? A puzzle?

Sure, I can try. What did you get?

A puzzle book?
That sounds fun. What's it about?

A necklace and lip balm? I guess? It smells nice. Like roses. It's about me, trying to figure out the secret of this place and dying in various horrible ways. A lot of the pages are creased, so I think there might be a hidden message in it somewhere.

Is it an aphrodisiac? Sounds like something this house would do, Mr. Kissable.

Huh. I'd like to check it out, then. Sounds unpleasant.

That's my assumption -- that or some kind of poison. I don't really want to try it on anyone if it's going to hurt them, but. It DOES smell nice. Don't remind me. At least they weren't more vulgar about it. Of course, you're welcome to it. Maybe I can find out what the journal does, if you help with the puzzle? It's sort of absurd. Last chapter it was eaten by leopards.

It might be fine. None of my prizes have ever been actively harmful. You can try it on me.

I'll warn Hawk first, in case it makes me fall in love with you or something like that.

Is it that absurd? We did have a wolf man.

Mine either. Lincoln bites sometimes, but she's actually very nice, for the most part. And usually the effects of things are limited, right? So it'll wear off. Most likely. We can give it a try. I try not to think about the wolf man. Anything with "wolf" in it, actually.

I think she likes me now.

Won't know until we try. I'll let him know when I get there in case he tries to stop me 😇

I think we all do.

She does! You fed her enough times, she knows you're trustworthy :) Deal. And you'll bring your journal and we'll try to figure it out. The chain doesn't seem to do anything, yet, but it looks nice.

For "reformed virgin"??

I'm sure it does something.

Yeah. Ridiculous, like it's something BAD to be. It's pretty. It's long, though -- I put it around my waist because it kept getting in the way.

Sex is the closest thing this place has to currency, so I'm not surprised it thinks so.

You think it's a good idea to wear it? It might brainwash you into some kind of kinky chastity thing.

[ Not Tim would know anything about that. ]

Insulting. Do you think I sleep with a lot of people? I mean. Regularly. That might be interesting. I've only tried that a couple times.

How many is a lot? Quentin, Shanks...Hao?

Maybe if you choose it for yourself. Not if you get magic'd into it.

In total it's been ten. Ish. But on the semi-daily it's Quentin or Shanks. Hao it's usually with Hyunsu. Well. I defer to your expertise. Obviously. :)

Only ten?

I meant regularly. I think two or three is...fine. For saltburnt.

I don't know what you mean.

Well, it depends what counts. Do just pictures count? Or just oral? The qualifications vary so much, you know. Two, regularly, then. So far. I feel like you've forgotten I can feel your emotions, Tim. Even when I'm not trying to.

Pictures don't count. Oral does.

Two isn't bad.

I don't know what my emotions have to do with it. I either do it or I don't.

Do you and I count? [if you have silly giggly sex with your bestie is that just guys being dudes or]

No, it's not bad at all. It's very nice, in fact. I mean that sexual frustration is a feeling, and from you its like looking into the sun these days.

Of course it counts!

What do you mean? Lent is over. I'm very fulfilled.

Just making sure! Then yes, ten. So far. Well, NOW you are. Recently, not so much.

I'm barely behind you. I probably should have been up for the whore award.

What are you accusing me of?

Well, I don't think either of us are whores, because we don't charge for our experiences, so. There. I'm simply observing that maybe you personally don't think chastity is as "weird" as you may say. That's all.

You know what I mean.

I didn't say it was weird. I think that's the ideal, really, even if it's not very realistic.

[ He said being horny about it is weird!!! He is self-kinkshaming. ]

I do. And I'm saying regardless, I don't think you're a whore. You wouldn't have a chance to do this at home, right? Not this freely. You deserve it. Celibacy? Really? You'd pick that?

I don't want to do it this freely. If this place made it possible to commit to one person, I would. That's not a luxury I have back home either. At least not publicly.

I tried to be, before Hawk. But in moments of weakness, I failed.

You could, if that's what you really wanted? I mean I'd beat away any other suitors with a stick when you're otherwise compromised by the house, if you really want me to. I'm sure Hawk would help. I see. I guess there's nobility in that, in refraining from anything that distracts you from your goals.

I think that ship has sailed. And Hawk would have to want that too.

It was mostly for religious reasons. We're not supposed to until we're married, but I can't get married.

Do you think he would? If you asked him? Ah. Right. Well, I don't know if that priest is a legitimate church entity, so. If we were at sea, the highest-ranking officer could marry you two.

[like pirates of the caribbean which in every other context is not accurate, but. that part's true.]

I don't know. And it's complicated again. I keep doing this.

It has to be in a church for me.

Complicated again? Right. Would you want something like in some of the movies? A big celebration, a suit and everything?

With Harry.
Goodsir.

It's not complicated with him, I mean, but this whole thing is. I don't think I know how to do anything halfway. I don't know if I even want to.

It wouldn't have to be a big spectacle. But a church. My friends, my family, if they'd want to be there.

Ahhhhh, I'd wondered. You had such a nice time on your date, I'd meant to ask if you talked afterwards. You like him a lot, then? And of course you don't, Tim, that's one of the things I admire about you. You aren't wishy-washy. Would you walk down an aisle? That seems to be a big part of things.

I do. He might be the sweetest man in the world. He understands me, and he trusts me. He's really something special.

I don't know. The woman is supposed to do that. I don't know what a gay wedding even looks like.

He is, yes. I had a very interesting encounter with him the night of the party too. Though If you'd rather I didn't, I'll respect that, you know. He's lovely, but I can tell you feel strongly about him. Me neither. It's not legal here, yet, so there isn't much reference. I suppose both of them walk down the aisle, if they're both women?

He told me.
It's okay, I think.

So if they're both men, do they skip that part? I don't know.

Good. He told me his intentions for you are very pure, after I gently threatened him, so. My fears are somewhat soothed. If you're sure, okay? Maybe they walk down together? I'm sure we could ask. If that's something you want. There has to be another priest here sooner or later.

I believe they are. You didn't give him the shovel talk, did you?

I guess the 2010s people would know.

I did not mention a shovel EXACTLY in the course of the conversation... ...I don't want to ask the 2010s people. They make my head hurt.

Koby.

Me too, but they're the ones who would know.

Edited 2025-04-20 04:45 (UTC)

Tim? Perhaps asking anonymously would cut down on some of the dramatics.

It's very sweet, but you don't need to threaten anyone for me. Hawk already has. He wrote him a letter asking him permission to court me.

You do it. Hawk will know. And then he says he doesn't want to, which would be awful, or that he does, which I don't think I'm ready for.

And it's all moot without a priest anyway.

Edited 2025-04-20 18:38 (UTC)

I know I don't NEED to. But you're my friend, whether or not Harry and I spend time together, and I want to make that quite clear. Did he really? That's adorable, actually. It reminds me of how you used to text, when we first arrived. I'll ask around, subtly. Fact-gathering. Maybe see the next time a priest is scheduled to come by -- Christmas, probably?

How did I used to text?

I can't get married on Christmas. That's the Lord's day.

You introduced yourself at the beginning, the first couple times. Like a letter. Oh, right. Maybe they'll bring the priest for a whole week?

I still do it with people I'm not close with. That's just polite.

They didn't bring one at all last Christmas. Most people have weddings in the spring or summer.

It is. And most people aren't polite, which is what makes it so charming. Ah, I see. Would you want one in the summer? Seems the heat would be a factor.

Maybe...early autumn. So it's not too cold to have a reception outdoors, but the leaves are still turning.

Why so many questions about it?

I don't know. You make it sound so nice, that's all. It'd be fun to go to a wedding, if it was yours.

I don't think I can have one here. I'd made my peace with never having one at all.

But you can be my best man, if anything changes.

Thank you. You can be mine too, if I ever decide to get married.

Are you thinking about it?

Me? No, not really. Not anymore. I mean. I'd never thought about it, since becoming You know. Myself.

If it’s possible for me, it’s possible for you. If that’s something you would want, eventually.

Eventually. Someday. Maybe.

With Quentin?

Maybe. Yeah. I mean I want to be with him forever. As long as I can. Whatever that means.

Does he know you're about to propose?

[the benefit of being the psychic friend -- when bestie is being sassy, it's very easy to reach out and nudge his bratty bright consciousness, the mental equivalent of an elbow to the ribs.]

You're TERRIBLE, shush.

If you need a buddy to go ring shopping with, let me know :)

You're impossible. ( ,,⩌'︿'⩌,,)（￣へ￣）

Are you off at the library?
I woke to an empty bed that smells like you and it's quite the gift you left me.

[ quentin is doing nothing but having a lazy day, buried in koby's side of the bed. ]

[he is; before even the gym, for once, maddeningly curious about his library request, and finally having received an answer -- koby's response is a photo of said answer, somewhat blurry with excitement.]

Look what I got! It's Very gory so far, which is a little discouraging 😞

[but not enough to break koby's spirit of curiosity, naturally~]

Edited 2025-04-17 16:19 (UTC)

A book about you? That's gory?

[ that stirs up something fierce and a little protective in him. ]

Are they threatening you?

[the little flare of protectiveness ebbs into koby's perpetual connection to quentin's aura, prompting a reassuring little unseen nudge.]

No, no, not outright. I'll come show you, it's sort of a metaphor? I think? Or a puzzle. I'm not sure yet. I do get eaten by leopards or fall into volcanoes in very improbable ways.

Eaten by leopards? Volcanoes?

If you're not concerned then I'll bite my tongue. It just seems so strange, don't you think?

But if it's a puzzle I know you'll solve it.

Well, there isn't a REAL volcano here, so that'd be silly to be afraid of it. It's very flat around here, for the most part.

[he should...still probably be more concerned, let's be real.]

It's definitely not a straightforward answer, but I'm sure there's an answer in it SOMEWHERE. I just need to figure it out.

This place has created many things on its own, I wouldn't put it past them to find something similar.

[ a beat, then: ]

You'll figure it out. You always do.[ and then, a little levity: ] I will even sit over your shoulder and make sure you do not miss anything.

I'll stay away from large hot crevasses, then. Just to be safe. I try my best. Would you want to help me? You're the best navigator I know, I'm sure you'll find something I can't. Also I got my "prizes" from that stupid book thing. I need help figuring those out too. Unless you're taking a very important nap or two.

Just to be safe.

I'll help you as best I can. Not sure that I'm the best you know - you're an excellent one yourself, remember?

My naps are never important enough to avoid time with you. Do you want to come to me or should I find you in the library stacks again?

Oh, I'm all right. I can chart a course if I have to, but I don't do it nearly as well. It always gives me a headache. I'll come to you. I want to be a little discreet, just in case. People eavesdrop, in the library.

Considering how loud we’ve been in the past, I have no doubt they have.

I’ll show you some tricks I used on the ship. Perhaps one day on a ship of our own.

I'd say we're "enthusiastic", not loud. [false; they've literally broken furniture.

a pause, before the words that dont fully encapsulate the longing contained within:] I'd like that.

Yes, yes, very enthusiastic. Loudly enthusiastic.

And when we have a ship, we'll be as a loud and as enthusiastic as we'd like to be. We should bring everyone with us. Our family.

[ that is, the people here that have become their circle, the ones they love and care for. ]

I'm not THAT loud. [yes, he is.

the part of koby that's idealistic and hopeful and determined believes in this future with all his heart, so fervently that if it were possible to make it so through force of will, it would already be. the jaded, sadder, more pessimistic part of him is there too, though, thinking of a future where all this disappears -- tries to imagine whether it'd be worth the torment of remembering all he'd lost, when its no longer in reach.

but quentin makes it so, so easy to believe the first part.]

We'd need a very large ship, then. Practically a castle on the sea.

Not that loud. Loud enough. I like hearing you.

[ as much as the possibility of this place pulling them apart is very real, quentin can’t let go of the optimistic future. if they do that, the house will win. he can’t let this place squash the bright part of koby, and the quieter bright part in himself. ]

Something tells me we’ll find a way. Sailors always do. A castle on the sea - I like that idea.

Dear Koby,

I write to you today to plead my pardon for the beastly manner in which I treated you the evening of the 'prom' gathering. Words cannot convey the sorrow I feel when I think of how cruelly and lecherously I behaved toward you when you have been nothing but kind and patient towards myself.

It matters not how much was drink and how much was simply my lack of decorum - my behaviour was unacceptable. I understand if my depravity has quite put you off, and will naturally accept any consequences you choose to enact.

Yours sincerely,
Harry Goodsir

[it's not the first time that koby's witnessed the post-otherworld mood crash/spiral, but it is the first time someone's written him a whole letter about it. it's -- sweet, actually, in it's way.

and of course he responds quickly, earnestly:]

Harry, please don't apologize -- this place has a way of finding one's innermost, repressed desires and making them impossible to ignore. And despite how I was acting, that was far from the first or second or even third time I've given in to said desires. Though I must admit, never in quite that particular way. It was most interesting and exciting, honestly -- I'd read about it but never done it myself, so thank you for the opportunity. ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა I promise I don't think you're a lecherous or unsafe person to be around. I imagine you have a headache, though, don't you? ˆ꒳ˆ

[Goodsir's crash is working out weirdly well for him. He was expecting a lot more recriminations.

The power of letter writing!

Also does this mean Koby is... into everything they'd spoken of?]

I am most relieved to find you are not offended. I still feel quite disappointed in myself for not exercising more caution, but my heart is lighter knowing that you do not feel taken advantage of.

I do have a bit of one, yes. I've treated it quite nicely with the 'ibuprofen' though.

I am terribly sorry to ask, but I admit I feel most compelled to: you are not upset, for which I am grateful, and I am sorry if my inquiry is inappropriate, but am I correct in understanding that the interlude was somehow enjoyable for you?

[nobody writes letters anymore, kids these days, etc. etc., old man koby yells at cloud.]

I don't, at all. If I hadn't wanted to engage in anything, I would've simply walked away. [he could've managed to slip into the crowd until the otherworld-inspired urges passed, but -- he hadn't wanted to.]

I'm glad. Please let me know if you need anything else. I'll be in the library all day, most likely, but I'm happy to assist if need be. I feel sort of responsible, actually, having let you drink even though I knew it was your first Otherworld party. Harry, if it hadn't been enjoyable for me, I wouldn't have done it. I haven't tried that particular type of interaction before very often -- but I've been curious about it. It's on my list. ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵

You are most assuredly not responsible, Koby.

I see.

Then I don't suppose the offer still stands? Of the assistance with the baths.

I should've made sure you were okay. I know how compromised this place can make us. Were you all right? Did you have a nice rest of your night? Well. Yes. But I think there's something left undone. I did what you said, and I was promised a reward, so. So.

Koby, I deeply appreciate your concern. But I am responsible for myself.
Oh, yes. Very nice.

Then a reward you must have. Tomorrow, perhaps?

Ah, good. I heard you spent some time with Tim as well. He's quite fond of you, you know. I would like that very much, yes.

Yes, I did.
Is he?

I should like that very much as well. My quarters then, perhaps, sometime in the evening?

He is, yes. And I think you're both lovely and wonderful, but it's my duty as his friend to tell you very sternly that I will never forgive you if you hurt him. So. There. After dinner, perhaps? Lincoln is more pleasant when she's eaten, and she'd like to meet you.

Koby, I assure you that my intentions toward Mr. Laughlin are most honourable. I'd not hurt deliberately him for all the world. Nor shall I ever trespass upon a heart already bestowed upon some other already favoured - in both the case of Mr. Laughlin and indeed yourself, trust that I understand my place.
Which reminds me, would your partner prefer to know of my intentions toward you?

I would greatly enjoy that!

That's an excellent answer, Harry. And I don't think you need to worry about my heart or Tim's being big enough -- it's not a trespass if it's freely given. Tim's just had some bad experiences, and I suppose I'm a little protective. What intentions are those? Bathing-specific ones, perhaps? He's a great fan of baths as well, you know. She's been looking forward to meeting you. I told her all about your crabs.

Has he?

[Ok, now you got him blushing, Koby.]

Yes, those. And romantic ones.

Did she have much to say on the matter?

He has. It's not my story to tell, but when he feels things, he feels them very deeply. It's hurt him before. I don't believe you'd ever deliberately cause him pain, but... Ohhhh, romantic ones. I see. I'm taking notes, I'll have you know. She made a lot of hungry sounds, and was most displeased to hear the crabs didn't travel here with you.

But I may accidentally. That remains a possibility.

Well, good. I can't be the only one making notations. But if you think a letter of intent would be appreciated by your partner, I am happy to send one.

Perhaps we will be fortunate enough some day to see the ocean again.

Everyone makes mistakes. I don't need perfection, and neither does Tim. Just honesty, which you have in spades. I think he'd find it delightful, just like me. You two would get along well, I think. Has Tim told you about, ah How we share? I hope so. I try not to think too deeply about it, but it’s an ache that never quite goes away.

I thank you, Koby.

Only that you do. He of course would never divulge details, and I would never ask.

I understand completely. It's strange - I spent so long missing England, and now I am home and find myself wishing for a different sky.

You're quite welcome. Never? I wouldn't mind if you did. I think your imagination is just as vivid as mine is, with the proper motivation. That's it precisely. I used to wish I was anywhere else, but now that I am, it's a little unsettling. Do you miss the north, then?

I fear my sense of propriety would prevent asking. As to my imagination, well. You may be right.

Oh yes, very much. I dream of it often.

Oh, I see. Perhaps I'll simply have to show you firsthand. Actions speak louder than words, you know. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Good dreams, I hope? I have a lot of just sitting on the deck of a ship and looking at the stars, which is nice.

Indeed they do. I should very much like that.

Sometimes.
Oh, yes, that is unlike anything else, isn't it?

Another note for tomorrow night, then. There isn't. I'd never been away from it before, so I hadn't thought to imagine a world without the sea, but...it's very still here. And quiet.

I look forward to it.

It is. Does it make it difficult to sleep sometimes?

Me too. Sometimes. I've never slept very soundly, but the stillness and silence don't help with that. I sleep better with someone nearby.

I hope you've no shortage of loved ones to keep close, then.

[Harry's room is outfitted to be as modern as any other - it has electricity and the bathroom has running water - but in terms of decor he's left it more or less the way it was when he moved in. The furniture is dark wood, the curtains heavy, the rug richly patterned, the paintings on the wall antiques. Everything is clean and neat. The only real giveaway that it isn't an unoccupied room is the desk set against one wall - books are piled high there, along with several notebooks and a couple of pens.

'Doctor' Goodsir himself is as old fashioned as his lodgings, although when Koby arrives he is markedly not wearing any sort of suit jacket. He still has a waistcoat (a surprisingly lush burgundy) on over his shirt, but his collar is undone and there is no sign of a tie or cravat. He's positively disheveled by his own standards. He smiles brightly when he opens the door wide, ushering Koby and his pet duck inside.]

Oh, do come in. You've impeccable timing - I'd just rung for tea, so it's still hot.

[Indeed there is a tea set on the little table next to an overstuffed chair. Goodsir's phone is also on the table, playing music from YouTube.

He moves another book (about politics of the 1950s) off the chair so Koby can sit while he moves to lift the teapot.]

Tea? Oh! And I've lettuce for Lincoln, if you think bribing her will do me good.

[It's possible that he's just as excited to meet the duck as he is to put the moves on Koby.]

[koby’s dressed simply – his usual fare of overalls over a sweater, warm and loose-fitting, casual in a way that doesn’t speak so much of beguiling or wooing as it does comfort, relaxation. granted, a big bonus of this ensemble is that lincoln can ride in the front of the overalls, snuggled against koby’s chest with his arms beneath her to support her fluffy, feathery weight.

it’s sort of a comical look, young man with duck, the latter peering out from under the bib of the overalls and looking around with a coolly disinterested expression on her face. koby, at least, seems delighted to be there, toeing off his shoes at the door (manners!) and beaming brightly at goodsir.]

Tea would be wonderful, thank you. [settling in the seat, koby unbuckles both straps of the overalls, letting lincoln slide onto his lap, then hop to an unoccupied chair with a meditative little wak sound. the straps stay undone for the moment, as koby leans over to smooth the duck’s feathers, his sweater riding up a bit, showing a flash of his back, his hip, the curve of his waist – ten seconds in and he’s already acting scandalous.

there’s no awareness in his pleasant, cheerful expression, though, smiling up at harry as he approaches.] You might convince her to change residences, if it’s iceberg or romaine. Those are her favorites. [from lincoln: wak?]

[Goodsir is a gentleman... but still a man, and he's not immune to the thrill from a peek of skin. He sees, but glances away quickly, as if the sight might blind him.

Goodsir deviates to get the lettuce - romaine - and holds it up with a smile before he moves to Lincoln. He pulls a leaf off and offers it to her.]

There you go. Lovely girl.

[Another leaf before he straightens and goes to the tea. He pours out, raising his eyebrows at Koby.]

Cream and sugar?

[koby doesn't appear to notice, straightening up and tugging one strap back over his shoulder, fastening it with a click and smiling as lincoln stretches out her long white neck and nibbles happily on the lettuce leaf. she eats it rapidly, hopping up onto the table for the second one, prompting a soft gasp from koby.]

Lincoln -- don't, not the table. [he scoops her up, depositing her back on the chair, ears pink.] Sorry, her manners disappear when food's involved. [the duck turns her back, deliberately, ignoring koby fixing the other strap, then shifting to smile up at goodsir.]

Just a little of each? Not too much, sometimes the drinks here are more sugar than liquid, I've found.

Oh, it's fine. She may have the run of the place, I truly don't mind. When I was young my brother and I would turn the house into a menagerie if given half the chance.

[A little cream and sugar added, he offers Koby a cup and saucer.]

Here you are.

[He takes his own and sits on the bench at the end of the bed. His posture is proper, although there's something anxious in the line of his shoulders.]

Thank you for coming by, Koby. I have been looking forward to this quite a bit. If, ah. That's not too forward to say.

Mmmm, if you’re sure. [koby still draws the line at ducks on the table itself. lincoln seems settled on the other chair, so her fretful keeper exhales, turning on his seat to face goodsir, sipping at his tea and crossing one leg over the other.] She’s gotten really used to sleeping on top of the bookshelves in the library, so I worry about teaching her bad manners.

[then, smiling back, sweetly:] You’re welcome. So have I. I don’t think it’s too forward at all, especially in light of – ah. Last time we spoke. [koby’s ears are pink, but he’s still smiling, bemused by how he’s the more experienced one – for once, nominations notwithstanding. another sip of tea, socked foot bobbing absently where it hovers in midair.]

It does make it different without the alcohol though, doesn’t it? A little more awkward. [gently, looking over the tops of his glasses, koby nudges his mind against goodsir’s, unseen, but there.] You don’t need to be anxious, Harry. I’m not upset with you, really.

Oh, she's welcome to nap on my books if that will please her.

[He's known Lincoln for five minutes and she's already his favourite creature.

Koby's pink ears match Harry's pink cheeks. He laughs in that politely awkward way he has.]

I'm afraid that I'm always anxious. Please don't take offense at it, I assure you it's no fault of yours.

[He leans in a little bit.]

I'm glad to be sober. While I don't regret the, ah. Things I said? I would much prefer that any actions be made with a clear mind.

[He drops his gaze to his tea.]

And we're less likely to drown in the bath.

[lincoln pokes her sleek little head over the edge of the table, giving goodsir a very waterfowl-esque look of approval at the mention of napping on books – and, her lettuce done, hops down from the chair and begins waddling around, examining the surroundings. she seems mostly to be a normal duck, but periodically the light hits her feathers or eyes in a way that makes them appear – serpentine, almost, gleaming like scales.

koby watches with open fondness, reaching out his socked foot to stroke along her back when she gets close enough (an act lincoln pauses for, fluffing up in enjoyment), then smiles up at goodsir, more warmly.] So am I. Any ease I may have is all an act, I promise. At my core I’m nothing but teeming anxiety, so…consider the playing field level.

[then, as lincoln toddles over to examine goodsir’s feet instead:] I don’t regret them either. They were very, ah…enlightening. [another sip of tea.] As I might’ve mentioned, I’ve never really, um. Engaged in that sort of…scenario. [siiiip.] I wasn’t sure how I’d react.

But it was nice. It – felt nice. [blushing deeper now, setting the tea cup down on the table.] I agree in mutual clear minds, though, in case…just in case. The last thing I want is to have any time with you be upsetting, Harry, on either side.

...or for either of us to drown. [koby huffs out a laugh as lincoln settles down, her chin on goodsir’s foot.] That’d be a very embarrassing way for two sailors to go.

[Harry watches Lincoln with delighted interest. He loves animals, always has.

He looks to Koby and smiles more easily.]

Well, then we shall endeavour to at least maintain a similar level of anxiety.

[Harry lets Lincoln investigate, petting her with one foot as he'd seen Koby do. He nods, blushing fiercely.]

It felt nice for me, too.

[He laughs softly.] Indeed it would!

[He sets his tea aside and looks at Koby, eyes bright.]

I can't imagine any time spent with you would be upsetting, Koby. I find you, if you'll forgive me my frankness, incredibly charming.

...and I did promise you a reward.

[pleased, koby turns completely towards goodsir, sitting almost at attention, a clearly military-influenced posture, slipping into the role smoothly, now that he's had time to think it over, turn it around in his head. being commanded, being told what to do feels -- strange, toeing around territory that he usually keeps shut firmly away in his mind. but there's a safety in it being another sailor, someone older, someone koby can easily place his trust in. it's more like following a command from an officer, and that isn't scary at all.]

You did indeed, sir. [it slips out smoothly, brightly.] And I'll have you know I followed your orders to the letter. I'm afraid all I have is my word, but -- but I assure you it's honest. I'm a man of my word, after all.

[from beneath goodsir's gentle petting, lincoln lifts her head, looking between the two, then standing and waddling off to find a book to sit on. she's well-practiced in the art of making herself scarce whenever her human companion is occupied.]

[The secret here is that Goodsir has no idea what the hell he's doing.

He's had the most mind blowing sex of his life only recently, after a long period of not just celibacy but erectile dysfunction. Prior to that he was hardly what anyone would call experienced. And now he's sitting here with this beautiful young man about to act like he's in charge?

And their chaperone is waddling away?!

Well.

Sure, the drink had prompted his behaviour in Otherworld, but it wasn't as if it had handed him a script. He pulled it off once, why not again?

Harry leans forward a bit, hands clasped between his knees.]

I believe you, Koby. You are very trustworthy, which is why I feel I can task you with such things.

But now you must tell me - did you continue to have those sorts of thoughts? Have you had them since?

And if so, which scenario is foremost in your mind?

[is koby aware of that? to some extent -- he can feel the gentle undercurrent of awkwardness, laced with desire and self-consciousness, that runs through goodsir's warm, welcoming aura, the same way he can tell there are darker, hidden places in his mind and soul. it's all ambient, noise in the back of koby's mind, things he remains aware of, but doesn't focus too intently upon.

still, there's a knowing sort of look on his pink-cheeked face as he mirrors the posture, leaning forward, hands clasped on his knee, overalls and earnestness and innocence radiating like a corona of sunlight around him. it's carefully schooled away, because they're slipping back into this game, this persona, where koby is the wide-eyed, unknowing subordinate. it's part of what he liked so much, had thought about since the other night.]

I'm afraid so. I'm having them right now. [soft, a little shy, even as his gaze drags slow and careful and lingering over goodsir's frame, lingers on his broad shoulders, his chest, lower.] Foremost is definitely, ah -- relieving you of some of your layers. For comfort, of course. It gets so warm here in the midday, when the sun comes in through the windows.

[tilting his head, sweet, earnest:] Don't you agree?

[Koby's lack of self consciousness helps immeasurably. The fantasy is right there, easier to slip into than Harry had expected once Koby plays along.

Harry nods.]

Terribly warm, yes.

I don't suppose you'd help me? The buttons on this waistcoat are quite stubborn.

[He sits back, allowing Koby full access.]

Oh, of course. [polite, solicitous, standing immediately and carefully pushing his chair back in, because it's all about manners for koby, always. he maintains that earnest sweetness as he steps closer, "hmm"ing softly at the buttons like they're a particularly tricky puzzle he needs to solve.]

Let's see, I think...to best assist... [it's soft, mostly to himself, arms crossing and chin propped in one hand before giving a decided sort of nod and -- sliding into harry's lap, in one smooth, practiced motion, straddling his legs, expression remaining as innocent and guileless as ever. a pleased nod, and koby starts carefully undoing the buttons, knees on either side of goodsir's hips, shifting and squirming a bit to get comfortable.]

There. This is so much more efficient, don't you think? [the innocence slips a little, and koby's expression goes smug, both eyebrows quirked as he slowly undoes each button.]

[A lap full of Koby is, Harry decides, one of life's great pleasures. He loops his arms around Koby's waist and watches him work with an expression of bemused interest.

Waistcoat open, he nods as if he's just reviewed an impressive piece of work, then catches Koby's eye.]

Very efficient.

The shirt, I think, may also require attention. And I am quite concerned about your own. After all, I can't have you overheating. You could be injured.

[koby maintains his intently focused expression, teeth notched into his lower lip as if undoing the four or five buttons is taking every scrap of his attention, then resting his palms flat against harry’s chest, feeling the contour of his body, the rise and fall of still-underfed ribs, the steady beat of his heart. he smiles, brightly.] Thank you. I think it’s some of my finest waistcoat-divestion work.

[there’s a bit of a flicker in koby’s expression at the prompt, a momentary tension in his shoulders before he breathes in, out, slowly, lets them relax again.] I would never presume to argue with a doctor’s recommendation, but...well. There are some things I'd like to make clear.

[a moment of hesitation, then he’s unstrapping the overalls again, letting them fall off his shoulders, then carefully pulling his shirt off over his head. months of using saltburnt’s (impressive) gym facilities means that koby’s gained a good amount of muscle in his chest, his arms, his stomach, the line of his back, but the jagged scars beneath each pectoral are still vividly obvious, shiny and pink. whatever surgery caused them was inexpert – the scar tissue is gnarled, irregular, speaking of haphazard knife work and insufficient recovery, as if the stitches had been torn open again and again and again.

there’s significantly less anxiety in koby’s body language than there would’ve been even a few months before – he doesn’t anticipate goodsir will be anything but curious or, perhaps, bewildered about the scars, can’t imagine him being disgusted or cruel. and if he is – well. then koby misjudged him, that’s all. but he doesn't think he has, so he waits patiently, hands still resting on goodsir's broad chest, awaiting his reaction.]

[If you want to completely fascinate an anatomist, show him a scar.

The warmth doesn't leave his eyes, but the hazy arousal is replaced with a piercing curiosity that is just shy of being delighted. The playacting of doctor is forgotten in the reality of actual medical inspection.

Harry places gentle hands on Koby's upper abdominals, safely below the scars.]

Koby... these are quite serious. Are they self inflicted, my dear?

[His eyes flick up to Koby's.]

May I touch them?

[there's a soft exhale, a breath koby hadn't realized he'd been holding. his shoulders bow in a little, relaxed, a touch shy now. the broad warmth of harry's hands is soothing, calming -- he doesn't flinch, doesn't shy away from the once-gnarled wounds.]

In a manner of speaking. I mean -- I paid for them. I used to use bandages instead, but it got too hard to breathe while doing my chores, so. I bribed a surgeon in a port. [the words make him wince, even now, remembering knives and the scent of rum and his teeth clamped into a belt so he wouldn't scream.] More of a butcher, really. It was the best I could afford.

[a pause, then koby nods, squaring his shoulders back so it's easier to see -- he recognizes that glint of curiosity in harry's eyes, finds it endearing, actually. it's the same reaction he'd have.] You can touch. I can't really feel much on the scars themselves.

[Harry has a very gentle touch. It's something that he's always been proud of, professionally.

He winces at the very idea of poor Koby under the knife of some portside butcher. His fingers probe softly at the scar tissue, noting the thickness with a soft hum.

It's only as he absorbs Koby's words further that he really truly realises what sort of surgery Koby had done.

He looks at Koby's face with a dawning understanding, but also a deep sympathy. He massages the scar tissue without thinking.]

Oh, my dear. This must have hurt terribly. You are very strong.

So. You were... ah. Born... But you're now...

[He leans forward and kisses Koby's forehead softly.]

I cannot claim to understand. But I don't mind.

[the softness – of the words, of the touch – disarms koby’s carefully-planned explanation, and he falters for a beat, voice catching in his throat as harry leans in, kisses his forehead.

then, soft, voice quavering like the child he’d been when the scars were left on him:] Yes. It hurt a lot. [it was excruciating, it was like being flayed alive, there on the grimy table and every day after, as his endless chores tore the stitches again and again, no time allowed to rest or recover, not when there were sails to mend and decks to swap. koby wonders if harry can read the story in the gnarled scar tissue, the long horizontal lines with irregular vertical notches where the stitches had been.

swallowing tightly, koby manages a small smile, looks back up through the round lenses of his glasses and nods.] I grew up in a – girl’s orphanage, on an island. But I could, um. Tell from very early that something wasn’t right, it didn’t – it all felt terrible. And then I left and started calling myself Koby and cut off all my hair and things started to feel better.

[a bit more shyly:] I’m glad you don’t mind. I wasn’t sure, um, what your…preferences were?

[Another soft kiss, this time to Koby's lips. The scars tell their story very well indeed - the damage was done, obvious to anyone who knows anything about the way a wound is supposed to heal.] Yes. Yet here you are. My dear, strong one.

[Fingers still massaging (and did anyone tell this bright young boy that doing such could have helped with the scar tissue? of course not) Harry smiles in return.]

Yes, apparently my tastes are a bit of a mystery to people. Although to be fair, I've not enough experience to definitively give many answers.

[Slowly, as if Koby might startle, he leans forward and kisses his neck. When he speaks again it is against the smooth skin there.]

I am aware of the... the details? Of either set of, ah. Genitals. I am an anatomist. [Another series of slow, gentle kisses as he moves down Koby's neck.]

Only you must tell me if I do or say something foolish, or distasteful to you. To my knowledge I've not met a young man like you before. Although who can say, really? Perhaps I've known dozens without recognising it.

Here I am. [it's a bit wondering, said on a laugh as harry presses in, kisses at the side of koby's neck, followed by a soft sigh. there's a chain there, around his throat, a silvery collection of links, resting over a still-healing bite mark that he seems to wear as a badge of honor, where his neck and shoulder meet. still, he tilts his head invitingly, humming softly at the odd sensation of mixed numbness and sensitivity where those skilled anatomist's hands massage at his chest.] And here you are. Sort of impossible all around, isn't it?

[the word "details" gets a snort, an undignified thing, even as koby's reaching to push his glasses up into his hair, eyes brighter, bemused, without the thick, round lenses covering them.] I'd expect nothing lest from an anatomist, of course. I don't mind what -- words you use, really. Nothing's foolish to me.

[then, hands slipping back to the buttons of harry's shirt:] I tend to use "cock" only when I'm wearing one, though. I'm not, today, because -- well, it's sparkly and purple. It tends to be a little distracting, especially on first sight. [koby plucks the buttons free, one by one, taking his time as with the waistcoat.] And you might have. There are medicines people can take, ways they can...replace what their bodies can't make on their own. I've read books about it, it's all very fascinating.

Utterly impossible.

[Harry chuckles in the endearingly awkward way he has, knowing that sometimes he just sounds a little ridiculous. He watches with interest as Koby opens his shirt.

He lifts his gaze to Koby's face.]

Sparkly. That will be quite new to me.

Are there? I should like to read them. Do such medicines exist here? Should you want them.

[He drags his fingers down Koby's chest and belly before ducking in to kiss Koby's neck again. The bite is noted and wondered at a little.]

You are so incredibly lovely, Koby.

[it is endearing, a sort of softness that koby feels oddly protective over, though harry is fully twice his age. it makes him smile, hands coming up from the unbuttoned shirt to cradle either (fluffy) side of the man's face, beaming in that bright, earnest way he still has, even after all this time.] One of them is, at least. You should ask Tim about it. [a quirked eyebrow, a thread of the wickedness that had gotten such a sweet-faced young man nominated for such scandalous things during prom.

harry's hands slip lower, tracing over the contour of muscle, more defined than the overalls and sweatervests would suggest. koby wakes early, pushes himself, training the slender slip of a body he's been given into something he's happy to exist within. the fear and shame is mostly gone, burned away with the searing heat of how good every bit of him can feel.

shifting his hips, legs spreading wider, koby leans in, words soft and heated against harry's mouth:] Am I? Then you should probably give me my reward now, hm? [the muscle in his stomach, his waist goes tense, flexing as he slowly rocks his hips again, more deliberate this time.] Or do I need to say please?

[The fluffiness continues; with his shirt open it is possible to see that Harry's chest has a carpet of dark hair. It feathers down his torso before thickening again below his navel. His own body is nowhere near as strong as Koby's, being slim but soft. Harry is self conscious about it, keenly aware that the young men he (inexplicably) attracts are well muscled.]

You should always say please. It's polite.

[Harry captures Koby's mouth with his own, tongue pressing gently past his lips. His hands seek Koby's hips and settle, tugging lightly to encourage that rocking.]

[greedily, koby's hands are reaching out, callused fingertips and palms, a sailor's hands, tracing over the fluffy shape of harry's chest with a visibly pleased expression. he's not hairless himself -- it's under his arms, trailing down his stomach, but it's all baby pink and easily missed. there's something about harry's, the shape of his shoulders, his chest, beneath that dark carpet that koby finds he likes.

hands pressed to harry's body, eagerly, impatiently, unflinching at how his illness has depleted him, koby kisses him hard, just as hungry, hips rolling with youthful neediness.] Please? [another kiss, longer, open-mouthed, messy.] Please, Harry?

[There is something about sloppy making out that Harry has discovered he really, really likes. It surprises him - after the years he'd spent nearly on top of other men, all of them filthy, he'd assumed he would crave cleanliness to the point of being aseptic. But no. He wants spit and sweat and come. He kisses Koby back fervently, hands slipping to grip Koby's ass. He manages to nod, pulling away only to smile.]

Yes. Yes, you deserve your reward.

[His soft voice lowers a little more, barely above a whisper.]

Tell me the thing you fantasized about the most when you were being ever so good for me.

[there’s a huffy, thoughtful little sound as koby settles into harry’s lap, rocks his hips between grinding against the front of his pants and arching back into the hands on his ass, arms sliding around the man’s neck, languid and thoughtful as he tilts his head and bites his kiss-swollen lower lip.]

The most…it’s tricky, because there were so many things. [faux innocence, turned obvious lie by the way koby grins and toys with the curls at the nape of harry’s neck, fingers callused and affectionate.] And most of them just – led one right into another. Kissing you, touching you, getting on my knees for you. Sitting in your lap, like this.

[a pause, a glance downward, and koby frowns seriously.] With less pants on. There were no pants, in fact.

[Harry has no idea what a 'brat' is, but considering the company he's keeping lately he's going to have to figure out how to tame them in short order.

He likes Koby's fingers in his hair, likes his solid warmth there on his lap. Likes that cheeky little smile even more, and so he laughs softly.]

No pants. I see.

[He lets go of Koby's ass just so he can catch one of his hands and bring it to his lips. Gently, he kisses the back of Koby's hand.] Perhaps... retiring to the bed would be a good idea? If you like, you may relax and I can... Well. Take care of you. After all, it is you who should be rewarded for good behaviour.

[He smiles.]

No pants need be involved.

[some achieve brattaming, some are born with it and some have it thrust upon them. koby is by far the sweetest sort of brat, tamed fairly easily by promises of attention to be lavished upon him -- he smiles immediately, fluttering his fingers, then squeezing harry's hand before ducking in to kiss him quick and firm and affectionate.]

Perhaps it would. [cheerfully; that settles that, clearly. koby slides off harry's lap, settling his glasses on the table, safely, besides lincoln, who's settled down into a frisky-business nap -- a common state for her. the unbuckled overalls drag behind him, and koby pauses for a moment to push them off over his hips, back facing harry for the moment.

he's still muscled, still lean and strong, from the dip of his waist to the backs of his thighs, to the simple, utilitarian underwear he has on, already visibly soaked through. koby straightens up, pauses, looking over his shoulder for a moment, before leaving that last bit of clothing where it is and climbing up onto the bed, settling sitting on his heels.

then, patting the blankets:] Come along, then.

[Oh the things Lincoln has slept through.

Harry watches Koby with a loving eye, noting the way his buttocks move beneath his underwear, the way his calves flex and relax. He's beautiful. The soaking underpants he notes with an almost uncomfortable pulse of desire as he stands and follows.

Undressing is difficult for Harry. He forces himself to do it, but he cannot hide that he's shy - on ship he'd had his own berth so he was spared being seen unclothed, and prior to his experiences here in the manor his intimate experiences hadn't required anything besides pulling trousers down just enough to get his dick out. Compounding the issue is the fact that Koby is just young and hot.

Still, Harry gets out of his clothes and onto the bed. His skin is pale, black hair thick at his chest and groin. His cock is only a little stiff, average length and uncut. Trying to recapture that sense of authority, Harry sits so that he can take Koby's face in his hands and kiss him like they did before. Wet, urgent, hot.

After a moment his anxiety fades - banished by Koby's tongue, perhaps - and he's running his hands over Koby's chest and belly and thighs. His fingers finally slip between Koby's legs, stroking curiously.]

[the unease is tangible -- not pervasive, but a thin thread that runs through the teeming tapestry of Harry's emotions, woven between his desire and curiosity and awe. koby can feel it, can feel how it eases when he eagerly moves forward, hands seeking out the contour of harry's body again, meeting anxiety with youthful enthusiasm.

this time koby kisses messier, open-mouthed and hungry, the thrill of heat at harry's tongue in his mouth going right down to pulse at the apex of his thighs. he sighs, soft, sweet, eagerly melting into the habds exploring his body, chasing goosebumps over his flushed skin.] You were -- right. This is a good idea...

[breathless, between kisses, spreading his thighs and rocking the soaked fabric clinging to every flushed fold into harry's hand:] But if you don't -- hurry up I'm going to die, I think. Please. [a shudder, a needy grind of his hips, encouraging that dominant, authoritative role, submitting to it without question.] Please, sir?

[Harry presses kisses to Koby's neck and laughs softly.] You won't die.

[It feels good to be able to say that and actually believe it.

Harry's hand stays between those spreading thighs and instead of hurrying it actually slows. Unerringly his thumb finds Koby's clit and circles.]

And patience is a virtue.

[Not that he has much of it himself at the moment. He pays further attention to Koby's neck with lips and tongue, sucking lightly at the skin below the point of his jaw. His thumb presses a little harder before he takes his hand away entirely.]

Lay back against the pillows, Koby. Take those off.

[the murmured words into the heated crook of his neck, accompanied with the slow, maddening circle of harry's fingers against his clit, pressing the soaked fabric against the throb of heated pleasure in a way that has koby whimpering -- they're both unbearable, and koby wants to complain, to whine, to say he's been patient, because he's been soaked since he came in here, but he's being given commands and he can -- he can do them. he has to, because despite harry's expert medical opinion, koby genuinely feels like he's going to die or explode or something.

so he scoots back against the pillows, red-cheeked and bright-eyed and eager, hands shaky with excitement, clumsy with nerves, because it's still thrilling, every time, every person, every experience. the sweet, submissive act slips a little, in favor of a genuinely eager, excited grin, a wrinkle of koby's freckled nose as he hooks his fingers in the elastic of his underwear and peels them down, off, away. he's dripping wet, flushed and slick in a way that he'd be embarrassed about if he wasn't so impatient.

swallowing hard, scooting back against the pillows, koby fidgets for a moment, unsure what to do with his hands, knees instinctively pressing together on a quick inhale.] You don't -- I mean, o-only if you, um. Want to? Some people don't. I mean. [he's blushing deeper, thighs slick where they finally spread, part, inviting.] If you want to, that's -- I want to, too.

[The power game is fun - it's not often Harry gets to feel like an authority on anything - but that glimpse of a genuinely happy Koby is what opens his heart completely. The scrunch of his nose, the light in his eyes, these are the things Harry suspects he'll remember best.

He moves up the bed, waiting patiently as Koby settles. His own cheeks are pink, but his gaze doesn't dart away when Koby's legs open. He moves again, putting his hands firmly on Koby's thighs.]

In some circles, there is a theory than one can induce a great sense of euphoria by causing bodily paroxysms. Allow me to demonstrate.

[Harry moves to lay on his belly between Koby's legs. He places a single kiss to the inside of one thigh before he licks up the length of Koby's cunt. His mouth seals over the hot flesh and he tongues Koby's clit with the same enthusiasm he'd kissed his mouth. He's not greatly experienced and his clumsiness betrays that, but he knows enough to keep his lips and tongue working relentlessly.]

[there's another stifled almost-laugh, and koby's already opening his mouth to say something about enough personal evidence to confirm that theory, but then -- but then harry's spreading out, holding his thighs and licking slowly up the flushed seam of his cunt and -- and it's good, every single time, a year of experience still not making that first electric sensation any less blissful.

koby makes a sound closer to a keen than anything else, and he suddenly knows exactly what to do with his hands, sliding one into the mess of harry's dark curls, something almost tender in how he rests a palm there, cradles the back of harry's head. a press forward when the clumsy, eager angle of harry's tongue is just right, encouragement undercut with the soft litany of words:] Y-Yes, there, right -- there, please--

[perhaps unsurprisingly, koby is noisy in bed, incurable yapper that he is, breathless words blurring together with the way he moans and whimpers and rocks up against harry's relentless mouth. it doesn't take very long until he's close, youthful enthusiasm working against him. thighs shivering, koby curls his toes against the bedspread, grips tighter at harry's hair and manages --] Almost, I'm -- almost there, I-I--

[Oh how he loves hands in his hair. That's another thing Harry has discovered about himself.

He takes direction well. If Koby tugs him over way or pulls him closer, Harry just applies himself in the exact place he's been led. He appears tireless in this activity at least.

When Koby warns him, he barely nods. Harry's lips close over the swollen flesh of Koby's clit and sucks. His gentle hands slip under the quivering thighs and hold, keeping Koby in place no matter how strongly his hips might buck.]

[the slight nod is all koby needs -- that and the sudden focused pressure of harry's mouth, the grip of his careful, firm hands, the unspoken permission, you can let go, you can fall apart, you're okay, you're safe. it's something koby feels as deeply as the pleasure that bursts apart low in his stomach, releases on a shuddery, gasping sound that comes from just as deep, something half harry's name, half wordless bliss. his hips buck up, against the firm grip, helpless and searching, hands tightening in harry's hair as he comes on his tongue -- and no doubt soaks his chin in the process.

panting, gulping for air, koby doesn't even give himself a moment to breathe, already tugging up at harry's dark curls, clumsily trying to pull him away from his oversensitive, flushed cunt, wanting to snuggle into his fluffy chest and let his heart rate decrease. mumbled, huffy:] C'mere, up -- up here.

[Harry lets up only because Koby tells him to, pulling his mouth away with a rueful smile and letting go of his thighs.

He licks his lips as he crawls up, to lay on his side so he can see Koby properly. His cock is hard but he barely notices.]

You taste divine.

[still panting, out of breath, koby immediately rolls onto his side and squirms closer, pressing the flushed, shivery length of his body up against harry, which -- probably doesn't bode well for being able to see one another, yes, but feels nice. it's nice to snuggle into his shoulder, breathing shakily, kissing the place where his pulse beats, clumsily.]

F-Flattery. [fondly, one shaky hand petting at the fluff of harry's chest. koby fidgets a bit, shifting his hips until the hard length of harry's cock slips between his still-slick thighs.]

Not I.

[Said as he wraps his arms around Koby, keeping him close. He makes a low, surprised noise as his cock is enveloped in warmth.]

I am merely stating what I feel is obvious.

Mmmhm. [amused, languid, that pleasant boneless place post-climax that koby feels sometimes as if he could live inside forever and ever. he shifts his hips, absently, squeezes his thighs together and leans back enough to peek upwards and see harry’s reaction.]

Well, I’m pleased to pass approval, then. [still petting at the curling, dark hair, absently:] Do you want to keep going? I should’ve warned you, I don’t, ah…need a lot of time to recover. Between rounds. And I can go for -- a while. [sweetly, innocently, all big doe eyes and earnestness:] My record is forty-eight hours.

[Harry looks like maybe someone has shown him what heaven feels like: his eyes are softly awed and glazed with pleasure.

Harry blinks that hazy look away and laughs.]

Forty--? Koby. Koby my dearest, I will die.

[Laughing still, he presses a kiss to Koby's forehead.] I really will!

But I'm not done in yet. Yes, I should very much like to have you spend again.

W-Well, I know that! [like this, it's easy to see that when koby blushes, it goes all the way down his neck, over his collarbone, down his chest -- he blushes with his whole body. he makes a face, scrunching up his nose and hiding against harry's chest, mumbling:] I was just -- giving you a frame of, um. Reference. That's all.

[peeking upwards, those big earnest eyes accompanying a more deliberate wiggle of his hips.] You don't need to hold back, is. Is what I mean. Not on my account.

And what a frame it is.

[A kiss to the top of Koby's head this time.]

I feel that if anything, I should hold back a little just to preserve myself enough to satisfy you.

For I do wish to satisfy you, Koby.

[His hips rock gently.]

How soon can you bear to be touched?

Ahhh, I see. [koby looks up, arching both eyebrows, squeezing his slick thighs together, letting harry slide between the shivery, soft press of them. there's the slightest hint of wickedness in those big, bright eyes as he says, sweetly:] You realize that just makes me want to encourage you to not preserve yourself? It's like a challenge. Is that on purpose, sir?

[another hip-wiggle, then, by way of answer, koby leans up to kiss harry slow, lingering, messy, before shifting away and up onto his hands and knees.] Five minutes ago. Can I be on top? I like being on top.

A challenge to my poor heart, perhaps.

[He kisses back with a low hum, enjoying the lewd slip of wet lips and tongue. He sighs at Koby's retreat, dark lashes fluttering as he opens his eyes.

Koby looks so impish that he has to laugh.]

Yes. You may be on top, Koby. How could I ever deny you?

[He rolls onto his back, vaguely aware of his dick waving in the air as he does so.]

Never. [koby says it with unexpected fervency, even as he’s climbing on top of harry, straddling his waist, warm and flushed and only slightly shivery. the slick inside of his thighs is the only sign he’d shuddered apart on harry’s tongue only moments before – otherwise he’s fresh as a daisy, hair curling where it sticks to his neck, falls over his face.

one hand moves, presses over where harry’s heart beats, palm flat – and it’s accompanied with something, with a nudge into the warmth of the man’s thoughts, his feelings, like an invisible second caress, projecting affection and reassurance and protection, like a shield, like a guardian.]

I’ll take good care of you. And your heart. [said very earnestly, considering he’s pressing the bare curve of his ass back against harry’s hard dick.]

[He shouldn't be taking comfort from one so young. It makes him feel like he might be taking advantage somehow, and also mildly embarrassed that he should need such care.

But he does.

Harry settles his hands onto Koby's hips.]

I believe you.

Good. [koby looks pleased, wiggling his hips back against the line of harry’s cock, nudged up against his ass.] I think you’ll find I’m a very honest person. Occasionally too honest, I’ve been told. [another wiggle, then he’s rising up on his knees, reaching back to feel, to line himself up, to glide the head of his cock through the slick mess harry’d made of his cunt before slowly, sinking down, free hand braced against harry’s chest.

speaking of honesty – koby’s emotions show vividly on his face, impossible to mistake, fondness and satisfaction bleeding together on a shuddery moan that comes from deep in his chest as he takes harry inside. saltburnt is a mixed bag of blessings and curses, but getting to do this as often as he does – the eager young man koby still is very much enjoys that part. maybe that makes him some sort of slut, like the stupid superlatives had said, but – so be it.

and he’s determined, too, not slowing or ceasing until he’s fully seated on harry’s cock, settled back in his lap, looking very satisfied as he comes to a stop and catches his breath.] That’s – this is – let me just – [a shaky inhale, exhale, thighs shivering.] J-Just a minute.

Honesty is a virtue.

[Says the man from a time period where saying how you really feel was dangerous socially at the very least.

Harry does noth8ng but hold on, eyes glued to Koby's face. He looks angelic, ecstatic, absolutely perfect. In that moment Harry is happy to hand over all control... probably forever. Koby could ask almost anything of him now.]

Of course.

[His hips twitch just a little before Harry forces them to ignore all instinct and be still. Filled with wonder, he lets his hands creep up over Koby's stomach and chest.]

[that gets a laugh, a quavery bit of sound, fading into a shuddery sort of whine when harry’s hips twitch, when his hands – clever, careful anatomist’s hands – slip up over the shivery expanse of freckled, sunkissed skin. koby’s hands reach to cover them, guiding gently, up over his chest, tracing the scars again, lightly.]

S-So I’ve heard. [an exhale, an unconscious shudder of the slick, tight muscle that enfolds harry’s cock, rippling like waves, making koby’s head drop a bit as he pants open-mouthed, shivery.] I can – b-be honest like this, but, u-um. I might. Forget how to, ah. Talk. When you start moving.

[huffing out a laugh, he tugs harry’s hand to his mouth, kisses the palm of it.] S-Sorry in advance.

Don't be sorry.

[Harry is quite certain he's going to lose any coherence himself in short order.

One hand at Koby's mouth, he drags the other to the place where they are joined. Curiously, he drags his thumb up and around that sensitive bit of flesh before he lets his hips rise and fall slowly.

He can feel sweat on his back and dampening the thick hair on his chest. He breathes long and deep, trying to keep it even.]

You feel fantastic.

[koby makes a sound, a pleading, quavering shudder of a thing, against the flat of harry’s palm at the slow drag of his callused, careful thumb, at the sparks of pleasure it sends fire-hot and shattering up his spine. His lips part, find harry’s index finger, close around it for a moment, sucking hard, needing something, something to do with his mouth to distract from how good it feels. mumbled, eyes half-closed, stomach tightening as he rocks his own body down to meet that experimental lift of harry’s hips:] Y-You too.

[eyes squeezing shut, he releases harry’s hand, mouth open on a moan as he braces both his shaky palms against the soft, thickly furred warmth of his chest. there could be people walking by, could be anyone overhearing the sounds koby makes as he rises up on his knees, then sinks back down, still slow, still getting used to the angle, the depth, the dizzying feel of it all. but he doesn’t care, doesn’t care about anything except reaching for harry’s hands, guiding them back to his waist, his hips, settling them there.

another shaky inhale. exhale.] You can m-move now.

[Thank you God for vocal men, Harry thinks. They help alleviate his performance anxiety.

He grips Koby's hips firmly. Listens. Licks his lips and nods.

Slowly, he rocks up further into that gloriously wet, tight heat. His rhythm stutters at first, but his body begins to find one when he focuses on Koby's face.

He tugs at his hips, trying to encourage him to move in whatever way will bring him pleasure.]

[whatever anxiety is left is just a vague fizz of emotion buried in the back of harry’s mind – there’s too much eagerness, excitement, pleasure burning it away, seared off like water by a high sun. koby might coax it along a little, nudge his mind to harry’s, warm blushing pink encouraging him, stroking at his thoughts the way his hands stroke through the fluff on harry’s chest.

and if he likes vocal – well. koby can oblige, a litany of soft, needy, pleading sounds escaping him as he rolls his hips, rises up on his knees, drops down to meet each and every one of those careful, slow thrusts. every one makes him whine, needy, wanton, reckless, youthfully impatient, clenched tight around harry’s cock and grinding with a twist of his hips.]

You can – faster. [koby ducks down, catches harry’s mouth with his, bites at his lower lip, clumsily hungry –] Don’t be afraid. I won’t break.

It's not you that I'm worried about.

[A soft, breathless admission that is not without humour.

Still, what Harry wants is for Koby to come undone again. He wants to see this beautiful, kind man writhing and twitching, unable to control his body for that brief moment of complete pleasure.

So he snaps his hips up harder, faster. He buries himself in that hot, clenching flesh over and over again, feeling his body near its crisis at an alarming rate.]

Close.

[the comment makes koby laugh, a sudden, bright peal of sound, genuinely delighted, because he can feel the building pleasure, the desire for koby's own release first, again, and it flares up warm and affectionate and bright, the fondness for this soft, lovely, delightful man. he arches his back and drives down to meet each quick, deep thrust, breath catching, one hand moving to feel where harry disappears inside him, to press against that nub of nerves, to coax himself closer, closer and --]

S-Same time? [another laugh, a breathless puff of sound, head back, eyes closed and --] C-C'mon, same time, Harry, Harry, please--

[Eager to please as always, Harry tries his best, but the truth is that he has very little control over his body at this point. He comes hard and suddenly, hips grinding up and fingers digging into Koby's hips mindlessly.]

[ A link to a network thread. ]

Will you help me keep an eye on this?

Oh, good work sending the link, very clever. [and he means it, because tim is an old man with technology.

but then:] Of course. Two eyes. I'm assuming you mean haki-eyes, not literal. Though I'll spy on them if you want me to. What has you worried?

I've been here for almost a year, I know how to copy a link.

Don't actually go. It'll be too obvious.

All of it. Hawk approves of him, which is weird. He doesn't even like Quentin.

[ The most agreeable man in the world, as they both know. ]

It feels like something has to go wrong. I don't know what. But it can't possibly be that easy.

Well, still. It doesn't come intuitively, I find. Right, right. Give me a moment. [a pause, then:] Found them. They're both calm, talking. At the piano bar, like they said. Oh, Tim. It could be, maybe. Sometimes it is.

He was fine with Aemond, and that was a disaster.

Not that Harry's anything like that.

This is getting really intense, really quickly.

But there were other factors, then -- Alicent, the rest of the Targaryens. And with Quentin, too -- the way you and him met, the tensions during Werewolf, all of it. Harry's come at a very peaceful time, and he's alone from his world, thus far. I know. I can feel it. I can feel you're happy, Tim, like you haven't been in a while. Maybe Hawk just wants to be happy WITH you, this time?

Yeah. I am. But I know this place. It could go up in flames at any moment.

Maybe. I mean, I think he does. It's just weird. I'm used to him looking for a reason not to like people I'm with. Them getting along sounds too good to be true.

You aren't wrong about that. Still, it's a nice change to only worry about the external forces, rather than internal, right? You know him better than me, but He's been making an effort. Maybe this is just the logical conclusion of that? Either way, I'll watch them closely and send Lincoln in to bite ankles if they start arguing.

I would rather not have to worry at all.

I don't think trying to be better to me means that he has to be okay with this. I don't even know if I'm okay with this. It's confusing.

But then what would we do with our free time? I think everyone can tell you care about Harry. That goes a long way. He's lovely in his own right, but the people who love you are going to be warmer to him because you care for him. Which part? How fast it moved, or the way you feel?

Anything else?

That's not really how it works with Hawk. He likes to make his own judgments.

Umm
Both, I think.

We could take up tennis, maybe. I see. Well, maybe thats what he's doing now. He doesn't feel particularly aggressive, though, so there's that. How DOES it make you feel?

Hawk's been teaching me a little, when the weather's good. But he keeps getting distracted by the shorts.

It makes me feel optimistic and afraid at the same time. His devotion is overwhelming. In a good way, he makes me feel so adored and validated - in a way that matters, not pointless platitudes. I think if I asked him to jump, he would ask how high. He deserves someone who can give him everything, and I want to be that person, but I don't see how that's possible. I've tried and it always goes wrong.

Ah, the shorts. Yes. I recall that from one of the festivals. They're a little short for me, but I think you and Hawk could pull them off. Has he asked you to give him everything? Or does he seem happy just being with you?

Of course he hasn't asked. I don't think he would ever do that, even if he were the only one.

No, he doesn't really seem like the type to want to impose. You could ask him. What he's hoping for, with you.

I know exactly what he'll say. He'll tell me that my presence alone is more than he could have ever hoped for and he wouldn't dare be greedy enough to ask for anything more.

Most likely, yes. It could be true, you know. Is it so impossible that more than one person can believe that about you?

I believe him. It's not that. It's that I want to give him more than that without hurting Hawk and I don't know how.

Ahhhhhh. I see. It's not simple. I wish I could say it was, but its not, even in my situation.

Quentin gets jealous?

No, not him. Me.

You do?

Sorry. I just thought you sailors were so laid back about everything.

Of who?

Sometimes, yes. I try to focus on what I have now, but sometimes I think too much. I compare myself. Usually I end up lacking, somehow. I could be stronger or braver or more confident. I could give everyone I love everything they need, but That's not realistic.

You know Quentin doesnt think you lacking in anything, don't you?

I do. And I trust that. But I wish I were better, still. It's not quite the same thing, but Having relationships is inherently complicated, is what I mean.

Better at what?

You're right about that. It doesn't feel complicated with Harry, though. When I'm with him, before I think about any broader context.

Everything. I could be better at everything. Good. That's what makes it worth it, when the good parts outweigh that part of your mind that just wants to figure out how everything's going to fail. It doesn't make it go away, but It does make it worth it. I promise.

You and everyone else, Koby.

I know it is. It has been. This is good. Thank you.

Edited 2025-05-05 02:35 (UTC)

Well, you have me there. I guess feeling inadequate is a pretty common experience. You're welcome. I'll still keep an eye on them, just in case, but I really don't think you have anything to worry about.

I received a letter today.

A handwritten letter, in fact.

Did you? A secret admirer, perhaps?

Oh, no. In fact this letter was all about you, Captain.

Very intriguing.

[ sorry, koby. he’s going to be a pain about this just for the fun secret of it. ]

About me? Is it about the spill in the library? I cleaned it up, it was barely Lincoln's fault, she doesn't know her own strength!

You made a mess in the library and didn't invite me?

All that aside - a man name Harry reached out to me.

It wasn't a very FUN mess. I'm never bringing my coffee in to study again. Oh! Harry Goodsir? He's lovely, isn't he? I'm so glad you've met now.

Is that why the bath towels smelled like coffee? Well, and like you, of course.

But he wrote me asking if he could seek your affections. He writes letters like the old men on my ships back home. It was very endearing.

Yes, it is. I got it all over myself, trying to save my notes. Oh, did he? He wrote me a whole letter of apology for "overstepping", which was very similarly endearing. I like him. So does Tim. Do you?

Call me next time. I'll help clean it up.

He seems nice, yes. Reminds me of home. I told him he doesn't have to ask me permission to do what he wants with you. That he should ask you instead.

He had nothing but good things to say about both of you, and I warned him. If he hurts either of you willfully, then he'll see how sailors from my home behave.

And then we'll both smell like breakfast. Is that your plan? He's old-fashioned that way. Still, I like having your blessing. I like you knowing who I'm with. You have such a nice, vivid imagination. You're sweet. I don't think he's the type to do such things. Especially to Tim. They've gotten very close, very fast. It worries me, a bit.

Having you for breakfast? Yes, that was always the plan.

[ q, please. ]

And I like to know you're with people that care about you. Or that you're feeling good. But you said he's close to Tim?

Why are you worried?

What? I'm QUENTIN. That's not what I MEANT. [now he's flustered in public!!]

Well, that's mutual. Quite close, yes. Tim's been glowing since they started spending time together. It's silly, I know, but. Tim falls so hard, so quickly, and if bad things happen, he gets hurt so deeply. I don't think Harry would hurt him on PURPOSE, but still.

Well it's what I meant. :)

But you're right. We all have a leaning toward falling hard and falling quickly. I think Harry means well and cares deeply. Just like Hawk for Tim - it took time, but things seem better.

I'll even admit that Hawk is slightly less terrible than I imagined him to be.

You're incorrigible. ♡₊˚⊹ We do, for better or worse. Better, for me, obviously, but Tim's had a couple experiences with "worse". I'm going to screencap that as soon as I remember how. He's trying, at least. I can see that. And he loves Tim, which is the most important part.

We've all had our dealings with the "worst". I hope there are fewer here for all of us.

And you would screencap this and use it against me, Captain? I'm appalled.
He does love Tim. It's plain as day. I'll give him that.

We have. [there's an almost tangible pressure drop, gently rattling the windows, because -- well. koby's thinking about the regent, and that's what happens when he does that. it passes after a moment, replaced with his usual soft warmth.]

I would never! I'd put it in a memory book. The day Quentin said Hawk wasn't as terrible as he could be. And so do we. That's the most important part, right? We can figure out anything else.

Aegon has gone.

Would you search for him, sweetling, to be sure? I know he was not loved by many, and there are those who will celebrate his leaving, but he was still a boy. My boy.

[there's no love lost between koby and alicent's sons, at least, but -- he can feel her grief when he reaches out, a terrible, resigned, jaded sort of hurt. more than anything, it's alicent who doesn't deserve that pain, again and again.]

Of course I will. I'll search right now. [it's easier every time, a rush of awareness that spreads out and out and out, a net of unseen power that flickers in the back of every single soul in saltburnt's minds in one instant. and then:]

I'm sorry, Alicent. I can't feel him.

[ a long pause.

it’s a funny thing — both grief, her oldest friend, and the difficulty of having her boys here. so few have had patience for them, herself included, and yet they haven’t done anything half so terrible as any number of grown men, in this place. perhaps others see her boys as she does, having known her first — as the shackles of the crown, indenting her pale flesh.

it saddens her, all the same. and it ruins her, to lose aegon again, to have failed at her second and third chance to comfort him. what sort of mother doesn’t hug her son, when he returns to her from the dead? ]

Thank you, Koby.

[koby's quiet for a moment, because her grief is private, even though he can feel it radiating through her like charting a course through familiar waters -- alicent has been alight with pain like old bruises since he met her.

but: he can feel it. he can feel it and he loves her, and that is enough to prompt that unseen reach, that sense of something warm and adoring and grieving as well, grieving for her pain, if not for aegon, brushing against the old-bruise pain of alicent's mind. it settles there, like a blanket, like an embrace, like a hand on her arm, squeezing lightly.]

I'm so, so sorry.

[ it’s a strange sensation, though not an unwelcome one. so few have ever offered her comfort. in her moment of greatest pain, her father reminded her i do not wish to hear of it.

she lingers in it, savouring the warmth — wiping her tears with the back of her hand. ]

You’re a sweet boy, Koby.
I’m glad to have you in these troubled times.

[when she doesn't recoil, doesn't withdraw from that small nudge of warmth, koby doesn't hold back either. the flicker builds, builds, becomes as fervent and bright as a ray of sun, less a hand on her arm and more an embrace -- but bigger, stronger, more encompassing. it's every embrace she's ever been denied, every comfort from father or mother, every hand that stilled silent instead of raising to smooth away her tears, to stroke her hair, to wrap around her and give her a safe place to crumble. it's an embrace given by someone who knows the hurt of such comfort being denied.

for an instant that ray of light is a thousand suns, is as bright as dragonfire, strong enough, that the windows around alicent shudder a little with the force of it, the lights burn a bit brighter, the air is warm and protective and thick with a power that koby himself doesn't quite know he possesses. and then it ebbs away, draining like water out of cupped palms.]

I'll be here, if you need me. No matter how troubled the times. If there's any other way I can help, please don't hesitate, okay?

[ there’s the hurt of such comfort having been died and ache of being given it now, as though it were this simple, this easy, the entire time. why deny her? it did not make her or aemond or aegon stronger, to go without comfort and tenderness.

alicent digs her nails into the soft skin of her forearm. punishing. grounding. in the midst of a lightness that threatens to carry her away from this place — into the fantasy of another, kinder life.

not for the first time, koby’s power awes her, a variant on the capacity for prophecy her daughter possesses. wonders contained in human flesh. and burdens, too. despite her self-inflicted wounds, she reaches for it, hungry as she’s ever been, and feels it slip through her fingers when koby retreats. ]

Of course, Koby.
You know where to find me, if I can ever repay your kindnesses.

[if koby feels that bite of pain, he doesn't mention it, doesn't begrudge or scold her for it -- there are places in his palms that know the bite of nails clenched into fists and he's bitten the inside of his mouth bloody before, keeping things locked down inside. alicent will not allow herself to slip, to crumble, not with her other son and daughter here. she is needed, like koby is.

he leaves her with that press of warmth, of fondness, of love without reservations, without caveats. he hopes she'll remember it, the next pain that wracks them both.]

You already have, many times. But of course, I will. I'm glad you have Homelander, if I haven't mentioned it before. I saw how much he cared, during February.

It was a pleasant surprise, to have him at my side.

[ not because she doubted him, of course, but because others found her unconvincing. ]

I tire of fighting, Koby. I want only for us all to be well. That is to say, I’m glad to have you both with me, in striving for peace.

[ not merely among her family but the wider residents. ]

Hello, Koby! I hope you have been doing well. :)

Iggy told me that you might have an idea of how to ask the library for something.

Oh, hello! I've been all right, yes -- much improved after February, that's for certain. I do, yes. It depends on what it is, though. What are you hoping to get?

That's good to hear! Yes, I would hope that all of us are doing better than we were in February.

I'm hoping to get a musical instrument.

Things do seem to be a bit cyclical around here, unfortunately. But we're due for a calm month, I believe. Oh! That should be successful, then. The library does like to play tricks, I'll warn you.

Unfortunately, but that is all we can hope for.

I appreciate the warning. A friend of mine asked for something and she didn't get it, like a cruel trick.

I'm afraid that's the norm, more often than not. What did she ask for? The library tends to turn people down fairly consistently in certain areas.

She asked for her dragon back. I don't know if that's something that would normally be turned down or not, but it doesn't seem fair that some people can get things and others cannot.

Ahhh. I see. Unfortunately, yes. Anything living is either refused or comes back wrong. I asked for a den-den mushi and it's Well, it's not well.

Note to self: do not ask for anything living.

Also: what is a den-den mushi?

Or weapons, or anything especially large. Other than that, it's fairly open to most things, if you're polite. It's a psychic snail. We use them where I'm from to communicate over long distances.

[sizhui hopes to be polite, but he is still a bit steamed on helaena's behalf, so he'll have to be careful.] I suppose I will have to go and find out.

A psychic snail? Interesting. It sounds a bit like these telephones and cellphones they give us.

[ When Koby visits the library on May 4th, he will be given a letter by the worker who scans books at the front desk. The dusty envelope is addressed, in neat, loopy cursive:

"FOR KOBY!!! In the event of the death or disappearance of Tim Laughlin"

And it reads, ]

Hi Koby,

Hopefully the librarian remembers to give this to you. Even more hopefully, it won't ever be necessary, but if you have this, then it is. I'll try to keep it short.

If I'm gone from this place, I want you to know that I love you and I will remember you always. I know you think I can't. But I know that I will. And I'm gone, so I get the last word, so there. I'm sure you're sad to see me go, but you still have Quentin and your crew and I know you'll all take great care of each other. So try to keep your chin up. If we're moving on to heaven after this, I'm sure I'll see you again. You are braver than you think you are and a lot stronger than I am. You'll be alright. I couldn't have asked for a better friend.

If I'm dead, then I guess I'll see you soon. There's a ring on my right middle finger that should have all the evidence you need to figure out who or what hurt me. Please retrieve it before they bury me, and do NOT let Hawk insist on handling it himself.

Either way, take care of him for me, okay? He's gonna be an ass and try to push everyone away and drink his way through it. Do it anyway please. For me.

I hope I see you again soon, regardless of why I'm gone.

Yours,
Tim

Edited 2025-05-08 17:20 (UTC)

Hello, is this Koby? I've been told I should speak to you about the library.

Hello, yes, it is. Are you a new arrival? I don't OFFICIALLY run the library, but I'm there very often, so I'll do my best to help.

Yes, I'm afraid I'm very new. I feel rather like it's my first day at school. How much have you found out about the library itself?

I hope you've been welcomed, at least? People here are generally pleasant, in my experience. Please let me know if you need anything to make your stay more comfortable.

[a pause, just a touch too long.]

I've found out enough to draw some conclusions, at least? I think it's a sentient entity, largely benevolent, but sort of Capricious.

[ Hmm. ]

Capricious? Is it dangerous?

It hasn't been outwardly aggressive, but I feel it'd be unwise to assume its not capable of being dangerous.

I agree. Better to be safe than sorry. I'll remain cautious.

I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Rupert Giles. I used to be a librarian - hence the interest. Old habits die hard, I'm afraid.

I've found being polite goes a very long way, at least. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Giles. A librarian, really? That's nothing to apologize for, we're lucky to have someone with your expertise around. I'd never even seen a library before coming here.

[ Finally, someone who respects his expertise! +10 Watcher points for Koby. ]

Well, from what I've seen you've done an exemplary job so far. Everyone I've met in the library has mentioned you and the hard work you've done. I'm already looking forward to our working together.

They have? Really?

[.05 seconds to be proud and pleased before he remembers not to be arrogant.]

Well, people are very kind, here. I've done my best, that's all. It'll be a relief to have someone with real actual skills, especially with the eccentric way this place works.

Eccentric? In what way?

[ He's heard a few stories by now, but it's good to verify. ]

It tends to get a little Raunchy with it's gifts. Even if that wasn't the intention of the request. Or it can be a little grim. It gave me homework, once.

It wanted you to do homework?

[ Mentally running down the list of demons/ghosts/entities that might be particularly interested in education.. ]

Well It was more like spying on the other guests. In retrospect.

Did it possess you?

[hm. alarming question, mister giles.]

No, it did not. It was entirely under my own power and will. I was just A little naive about the whole thing. That's all.

[ Making a note: check Koby for signs of possession. ]

It can be hard to say no to authority figures. Even eccentric disembodied ones.

Perhaps you could show me what you've been doing?

[well now he's worried!!]

I suppose that's a contributing factor, yes. Oh, sure. It's a lot of notes and charts and things, if that interests you?

It absolutely interests me, yes. As long as you're happy to share.

Certainly! I typically make a welcome message on the network around this time, but I've been A little indisposed, lately.

Not by anything untoward, I hope?

A friend of mine died. Thats unfortunately common here. He'll be back.

I'm very sorry.

Back?

[ Here's hoping that doesn't mean what he thinks it means. ]

Oh, yes, that happens here too. Appendix DR for death-resurrection, in my notes. Succinctly people who die return altered at first, and have to be restored to themselves by a ritual. Then they're as they were before, though usually not without some lingering effects.

[ Of course they do. ]

So your friend is going to come back altered?

[at least your background has prepared you, mister giles!!]

Briefly, yes. And then we'll handle it.

What's the nature of the alteration?

[ Wait -- ]

I'm sorry, I shouldn't be peppering you with questions. I'm sure you've covered this in your notes.

Oh, not at all, please don't apologize. I just worry because the alterations are A little alarming. They're temporary though, I promise. Please don't panic. We've seen sirens and vampires thus far, but this place likes throwing new challenges at us. I wouldn't be surprised if there were other sorts of changes.

I'm actually quite experienced in the machinations of the occult. I can't imagine that I'll be surprised by anything I see here. I have made some extensive studies in demonology and magic. And vampires, actually. I hope that might also be useful.

Oh! That's very helpful, yes. We could certainly use your help. I just don't want anyone to panic and try to kill anyone a second time. That rarely helps.

Yes, I imagine that might just compound the issue, as alarming as it is.

And it's not their fault, whatever happens. If anything does, I don't want them in any sort of trouble. Does that make sense?

It does, though from the sounds of it their getting in trouble may be the least of our worries. I hope that your friend is spared.

( when he knows koby will be otherwise occupied, shanks leaves a small, plainly wrapped gift on koby's desk, along with a note written on saltburnt letterhead. inside, koby will find a wooden seal figurine, hand-carved and hand-painted. it may be a little rough around the edges but nonetheless is crafted with an unexpected dexterity for a man using his nondominant hand. or maybe he borrowed a sand arm from set. he'll never tell. etched on the underbelly of the figurine is a decorative 𝕾 with three slash marks through it — and the note, in shanks' wobbly cursive, reads: )

Koby,

When I was a boy, Vice Captain Rayleigh taught me how to carve. He said it would help improve my grip and precision with a sword. I'll admit, I haven't kept up the habit. But I imagine he'd have a laugh at my latest attempt. And be proud, I'd hope, to share a birthday with you.

Now, you're the age I was when I first sailed to the Grand Line as captain of my own ship. You may not believe it yet, but I know one day you'll go far and accomplish even greater things than I, even if we meet again on opposite sides.

Keep this with you as a reminder of how we started.

Happy Birthday, cadet.

—S

[ when koby wakes, quentin is gone to get breakfast for them, much like the first morning they shared together. he plans to make a spread and bring it back to bed, but for a little surprise, he's left something on the pillow next to koby's head. inside? a letter - ]

Captain -

Maybe this gift is a little too simple for a birthday like yours, but we have talked a lot about what happens beyond this place. Where we will be, where we will go, what we will remember. It's been on my mind, too.

All I know is that I feel alive and most like myself when I'm at your side, and that you will always be the true north when I've lost my way. I promise you I'll find you, if we go. I'll run to every corner of the world to see to it, and you know how stubborn I can be.

Have this as my promise to you. There is nowhere in all of these worlds that I won't find you, my Captain.

[ in the envelope, loose, is a ring - or one half of a ring. a silver band with sunny waves around a pale amber gem. ]

[there were piles of treasure in the deep stores of alvida's ship -- gems and gold and silver, the gleam of rubies and diamonds and emeralds, sapphire studded in crowns and necklaces and bracelets and rings. oh, piles of rings, boxes and chests and strings of them, stacked on alvida's every finger and toe, tumbling off the piles of bounty that koby was never, never allowed more. he knew the shape of her rings, knew the shape of them when she grabbed his arm, when she shoved him towards the mop, when she backhanded him across the face. she thought they were beautiful, that they enhanced her beauty somehow, and of course koby had never said otherwise. of course her treasures were beautiful, that was objectively true.

but he wakes up, sleepy and bleary-eyed, reaches out and nudges his pink aura affectionately against the blue glint of quentin somewhere down in the dining room, then brushes his fingers against the crinkle of an envelope, like that first day, in the sweetness of summer. koby reads the letter while cuddled in the blankets, still, smiles and glows with warmth, then turns the envelope upside-down, slips the small sphere of metal into his palm and he understands.

because it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. it slips onto his hand, settles there like it was made for him, and koby just stares and stares for so long that he can feel quentin returning, feel his presence getting closer and closer, so he fumbles for his phone, hasty:]

it's beautiful it's so you where did you get it? where are you almost here come here please i want to kiss you a thousand times

No need to worry about where I got it.
I'm on my way back with breakfast - it is your birthday, after all.
I'm glad you like it. Today is for you, whatever you want.

[ it takes a few minutes before quentin is back in the room with a little tray full of koby's favorite foods and an assortment of breads and jams, reminiscent of their first breakfast together. if koby looks closely, there's a ring on a chain around his neck. ]

Good morning.

[ he sets the tray at the end of the bed and climbs over to his love, leaning in and kissing him hard and wanting, followed up with a few soft little butterfly kisses. ] If you truly want me to kiss you a thousand times, we'll be here all day.

Oh, then don't hurry, you might trip. I could come help you. If you wanted.

[but quentin's back before koby can convince himself to stop admiring the ring, stop trying it on and off different fingers, trying to figure out what looks best. it's on his left middle one when quentin returns, when he sets down a tray and climbs onto the bed and koby's beaming, crawling to meet him, hands coming up to cradle his face, sleepy-eyed and fond.]

Good morning. I think we could do it. That was four right there, just like that. [another kiss, lingering, fond.] Five. We just need to do that...one hundred and ninety-nine more times.

Mm, only.

[ quentin leans down into the kiss, letting it linger, drag on, letting him taste koby on his tongue and memorize it all over again. he reaches for koby's left hand after, drawing it up to his lips, kissing each finger tip, each knuckle, pausing when he gets to the ring. ]

Is this okay? [ giving him something like this. promising to be at his side whenever he needs it, to be a home he can come home to. quentin never imagined himself here before, and yet - ]

It made me think of you.

[koby huffs out a laugh, sinks back into the pillows, watches quentin kiss along his knuckles, squeezes his hand gently.] It's beautiful. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and -- thank you. I --

[he notices the ring around quentin's neck then, breath catching at the matching glint of gold, sitting up straighter to reach out and cradle it in one hand, gazing at it with those wide, bright eyes. then, lifting them to meet quentin's, smiling heplessly, adoringly:] I love you. I -- it's perfect.

[ quentin's face flushes at the affection, at koby's approval and he laughs, dipping his head to kiss koby's wrist then leaning to kiss him again, warm and sweet. ]

I love you. Wherever you go, you will always find me. You'll never be alone on the deck of a ship, in a mansion, anywhere so long as I'm here.

[ he can't help but kiss him again, long and languid, like taking greedy sips from koby's mouth. ]

[sometimes koby lies awake at night, fists clenched over his stomach, thinking about – after, about when all this ends, when saltburnt finally releases them back to their homes. he thinks about what wally had said, about universes and magic and haki and the overlap of science and impossibility, and he tries so, so hard to believe that there’s a chance he won’t just wake up one morning in the marine barracks and not even know what he’s missing.

and then sometimes quentin kisses him, touches him, smiles against his mouth, and believing it is effortless.

koby’s hands are in quentin’s hair, tugging him down for longer, deeper kisses, hungry the way he usually is first thing in the morning – usually they spend a bit longer tangled up together, especially lately, now that koby’s various part-time responsibilities have him sleeping in a bit longer. it’s a good thing that most of koby’s favorite things at breakfast will keep, because at the moment – well. he’s hungry for something else.]

I love you. I’m – thank you. [pausing, breathless, rosy-cheeked, eyes bright and hopeful.] You aren’t – how hungry are you? Because if you want to eat first that’s. We can, I just. I want to thank you, um. A different way. For my birthday.

Koby I'm so sorry

Are you okay??

it wasn't me please know that i would never EVER do anything to hurt you

I couldn't think clearly everything just got so out of hand so quickly and I was completely crazy I am so sorry

I'll make it up to you. if you want to see me again.

[oh thank god-- whichever one is responsible, whoever was listening. it takes a minute for the text reply, but as soon as koby reaches out and feels that flare of sunlight-yellow, he's pressing up against it like a purring cat.]

Tim, you're back. Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, right? Of course I want to see you. I know it wasn't you doing all that, you'd never. It wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault.

[ The feelings on the other end are pure panic. He hurt people, he hurt Koby, and the realization of what he'd done crashes into him, overwhelms him like a tsunami. ]

im not hurt.

what about you? there was so much blood and i just left you there

Good. Thats good. Harry said the chapel was burned, but nobody else was hurt.

["else", a slip, because he can feel tim's horror, his sick regret, and he doesn't want to make it worse. but he can't lie, especially if tim sees him, battered and bandaged up.]

Quentin came and got me, it's okay. It looks worse than it is, I promise. I'm tougher than I look, remember?

He wasn't always there, he doesn't know. He should have stopped me.

I still did it. im gonna be sick

He was trying to help. We both were. It was just me, I'm sure of it. It's okay. I promise it's okay, Tim.

He did whatever I said, no questions asked. And I told him to burn the chapel down.

It's not. I've never hurt anyone like that before.

And he kept you from hurting anyone else, right? Maybe that's what you needed.

[what koby, with his doubt and his wariness, couldn't give.]

And you still haven't. Because that wasn't you, Tim.

But he didn't. He stepped away to grab supplies and left me to own devices because I told him to.

He kept YOU safe. That's what I care about. You're back, you're whole, you didn't kill anyone.

Barely. You're not the only person things got out of control with.

But you didn't hurt anyone. Right? The chapel burned down, but nobody was hurt.

Not in the chapel, I just rampaged through the rest of the place.

And we're all in one piece still, see? You're back to yourself, nobody else died, I'll be fine. I'm not mad at you. I want to see you again. I'm on strict orders not to leave our suite, though, and I don't want to give Quentin a heart attack, so you'll have to come here.

I need you to stop telling me it's okay. It isn't. I'm obviously glad you survived but I almost cracked your skull open.

Is he upset?

Well. I'm tougher than a lot of people here, so if you look at it THAT way... Not at you. He's worried. Scared. It scared him, seeing me like that.

Okay. I’ll be over soon. Just give me some time to muster up the courage.

I’m sorry I missed your birthday because I was crazy.

There's no rush. But if anyone gives you a hard time, I'm going to ignore recommendations about bed rest and come give them a piece of my mind. Oh, it's all right. It was sort of the perfect storm of situations -- Zoro's left, so the crew is a mess. But I had a nice morning with Quentin. And he got me something.

[ Inside an envelope upon which is written, in neat script, from Astarion: ]

[ ooc: there won't be a main log for the movie-watching (at least this time around) but folks are obviously free to icly respond, send their allotted invites, and/or play out their experiences if they so wish! welcome to the rebooted astarion's movie club! 🥳 ]

[ The morning before Koby's first shift at the Hex Club, an envelope finds its way to his door. Inside is a gold pin in the shape of a hexagon, as well as a note: ]

Koby,
Welcome to the Hex Club.
I look forward to working with you.
— Silco

* For clarity's sake: The pin is merely a gift, not an expected part of your daily dress.

[he's gonna wear it every single day even when he's not scheduled so there!!!!!! even if he immediately follows it up by texting out of his first shift on account of tim concussion...]

( long days post initial contact — living in the new reality of zoro being gone. of facing the truth of existing in a world that can, at any moment, be ripped out from underneath you.

the last messages in their text convo are from koby. i'm so, so sorry. where are you? nami doesn't respond to them, but she does send her own message after her few stolen crybaby days. it's time to move on, now. make a plan. map it out. )

starting tomorrow i want you to shadow me at work. if anything happens to me, the restaurant is yours.

( maybe it's time to pull back, make some distance. make sure the world is still turning, even if nami is taken out of it. )

[he's kept an eye on things -- relaxed when sanji finally made an appearance, retreated away to allow them their privacy, their shared grief. the most important thing had been done: they're together, a curl of orange and yellow, like the bleed of a new sunset. as long as sanji and nami have remained in one another's orbit, koby's kept at a careful distance, waiting for her to unfurl, reach out, put herself back together in whatever way she pleases.

but the message, when it comes is a startling one. sort of. koby already understands it, even as he rebels against it with all his might, a child stomping their feet, no, no, no. instead, thumbs hovering over the buttons for a moment:]

Why?

so you know how it works. obviously. you probably already know more than me anyway. it'll be easy for you.

Are you going somewhere? Do you need a vacation? I'm happy to oversee operations until you get back, if that's it.

in case i disappear. like zoro.

You won't.

[immediately, unquestioningly.]

don't.

[he wants to. he wants to. it's not fair, making him grieve her before she's gone. it's not fair. he's going to lose them all anyway, he's always known that, he's always--]

Is that really what you want?

i just want everyone to be okay.

Okay. I'll watch and I'll learn, so I know. If you need a break or Something. And I'll show you how to decode my files and where my stashes are, so you know. But I can't think about being here without you. I can't. I'm not ready yet.

i wasn't ready. we don't get that choice.

( she's aggressive, angry, the natural second phase to brutal sadness — lashing out and wounding the people closest. )

it's not going to take me by surprise again.

[she is; koby can feel the edge of anger sizzling and sharp, like a fresh sunburn, and its -- comforting, in a way. nami angry is nami mobile and motivated and fighting. it's better than nami in the snow, nami hollowed out, nami giving up.

so it hurts but -- if she needs someone to be mean to, koby welcomes it with both arms.]

Okay. If thats what you need then Okay. [he just can't conceptualize it in the context of her leaving him.]

( ani doesn't wait around for her (aggressive, frankly) knock to be answered — no one's hiring her for her bedside manor unless they want her to play nurse in a latex costume. but on koby's doorstep, as promised: a gift basket of flavorful lubes (all pinkly on theme, from strawberry to cotton candy), arranged in a bastardization of a bouquet. besides them, a pamphlet, decorated in an offensive amount of glitter gel pen. )

💋 ANI'S SLUT BIBLE FOR BEGINNERS
for: koby (slut in training)
from: ani (professional dick decorator)

🍓 what's in your mouth, bitch?
do not just squirt the whole bottle like it's whipped cream, dumbass.
apply like lip gloss — then test with a finger, or a brave volunteer (i know you got options, baby.)
if it tastes like cough syrup? toss it.
if it makes you horny for candy? congrats. you’re in business.

💦 BLOWJOB LAWS (memorize these or i'll quiz you next time)

1. use your hands. you're not a fucking blender. stroke while you suck. the combo? undefeated. the boys? emotionally ruined.

2. start slow. tease like you've got nowhere to be. make him beg. you don't even touch the dick for 90 seconds. lick thighs. kiss stomach. hover. make them think you might suck it, then don't. be a goddamn menace.

3. eye contact is a weapon. lock eyes like you’re about to devour his fucking soul. extra credit if you smile a little with his dick halfway down your throat. (boys are so easy. you just have to pretend to worship them and they die.)

4. flavored lube = your co-pilot. a little drop on your tongue = makes it slicker and gives you something sweet to focus on instead of wondering if he showered. use it to make gagging feel like dessert.

5. deepthroating is a flex, not a requirement. do it if it’s fun. do it if he’s earned it. but know that a good tease will always win. sometimes they're hardest when you're barely touching them. (psychological warfare, babe.)

6. EDGE ‘EM TIL THEY WHIMPER (and then some). edging is the slut's long con. it's sadism. it's "i could make you cum, but i'm not going to." suck until he twitches, then stop and go back to kissing his inner thigh. lick slow, ask sweetly: “you close, baby?” then ignore the answer. when he’s begging? say “not yet.” it’s the closest they'll get to god without dying.

⚠️ flavored lube makes this more fun. he's overstimulated and you’re just casually reapplying lube like it's lip gloss.

📣 HOMEWORK:
say something nasty next time, even if you’re shy. even if you choke on it. especially if you choke on it. remember: your voice is the cherry on top. and you? you’re the whole goddamn sundae.

signed,
professor mikheeva
department of slutcraft & advanced technique 💋

kobyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

we need a do over for your birthday

because I was crazy

You weren't CRAZY, you were Indisposed? Momentarily altered? Something. What kind of do-over?

you can say I was crazy it's okay

Quentin and I had a plan to have a sleepover and spoil you which didn't happen cuz I was
like that

You weren't, and I refuse to say otherwise, so there. Are you drunk? It was? Really? That's so nice, Tim, thank you.

No
yes

I still want to. late birthday :)

Uh-huh. Uh-HUH. Knew it. Well, then. What did you have in mind?

It's your birthday, you're supposed to decide!

Okay, okay, um A sleepover sounds nice. We haven't had one in a while.

If PRINCE KOBY demands a sleepover, I have to say yes

Theater has a new pirate movie

A sequel to the orlando bloom one. I forgot what its called but I'll bring it

I'm not a PRINCE. I haven't been elected or found to have a mysterious birthright. Wait, really? It does? With the same people in it?

you're a prince to me :)

the cover had him and the drunk pirate and the girl on it so yeah

Tim, that's sweet. So are you. To me. Or a fairly elected democratic leader. I didn't know there was MORE. Is that new? Does it look good? Have you seen it yet?

I don't know if I would want to be. i've been part of the process and I think more gets done behind the scenes

ok hold on.

[ hoofing it to the theater because suddenly this is the most important thing in the world. and sending Koby a surprisingly not blurry photo of the dvd jacket. ]

i haven't seen it yet
we were gonna surprise you on your birthday
me and quentin
but i busted your head open instead.

Edited 2025-05-27 01:58 (UTC)

It's a little less romantic, too. No offense to Mr. Colchester, of course. Oh! It's the same, yeah! You were gonna surprise me? Really? Thank you, Tim.

the surprise is ruined. but i'm still waiting until the three of us are together

Yes, please. I like all three of us. It's been too long. I missed you both being with me.

I'll ask Hawk!!!

im taking this dvd so nobody else does. we'll watch it tomorrow

Oh, to Invite him? Or see if we can all come over? He's welcome to come too, if he wants. I like hanging out with Hawk. Okay, yes. That sounds fun. And not too chaotic.

Oh no we have an agreement. only approved sleepovers. I'm not BRINGING him

unless you want me to. but I thought it would be like last summer

Ohhhhh. Well, good for you. That's um Healthy. Maybe another time. I'd like it to be like last summer. Sometimes I miss that. Not you being angry at Hawk, but the other parts.

I saw that pause
it was my idea, koby. im a jealous freak and a hypocrite so it forces us to talk things out

It was nice :) I love you guys

You're neither, stop that. You're doing your best. I love you too, Tim.

lately my best has just been hurting people

That's not you at your best. That was barely even you.

Where are you right now?

[there's a solid fifteen minute gap before the answering text -- an upside-down, sideways perspective of the ceiling of a suite.]

bed. why ?

Because you're not on my lap and that's a shame.

Is it your bed you're even in?

[this time the selfie is of koby himself, sticking his tongue out.]

you got such a lonesome lap you gotta bug me before i even unpack? horny old man 😘 [like he hadn't been sending dirty pictures the entire trip.]

nah. some guy was here a minute ago. 🤷‍♂️ [he may or may not be lying.]

What can I say? You're enchanting. And what do you have to unpack anyway? Crop tops? Cockrings?

Was he a gentleman?

enchanting? are you from the 1700s? and yeah dumbass i packed extra clothes no cockrings though if u cum that's your problem absolutely not 🥰

Sod off, Koby, it's called a compliment.
Bit surprised you'll bother with them. It's summer.
'Problem.'

Laying in filth then?

ewwww. i'm not walking around the house naked, sorry, you gotta earn that. yeah, it's a problem if you can't keep up with me. 💅 yeah, it's kinda gross. sorta wanna find somewhere else to sleep. any ideas?

How is that "ewww"?
I see.
Hasn't been one so far.

Nice clean sheets in here. Big en suite bath, too.

cause you're corny. that's how. well, it's been a little while. maybe you need to refresh my memory on how good you can keep up. yeah, sure. like i said, haven't even unpacked yet. i might make my way over there. unless this guy comes back and i wanna go again.

I am not corny, I'm English.
That is sort of the idea, yes.

Well, I'm not in a rush. And I am perfectly aware that you're trying to make me beg.

moved 2 au inbox woo

inbox for saltburnt

@t.laughlin

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