Who: Tony W and Njall Strand What: A drink and a chat. When: Monday, April 15, evening. Where: The Crimson Kestrel. Warnings: Language, emotions, some sexy talk
When Tony was at the Kestrel, which was often (and even more often lately), he usually sat at the bar so he could keep an eye on the whole room and also keep Cate company during slow patches. Tonight, though, he'd set up in a booth for some privacy in what was potentially a minorly awkward situation: drinks with Nat's babydaddy, the guy they'd both spent the last several months referring to mostly as The Asshole.
He'd always really liked Njall, was the thing. (Years ago he'd really liked Njall, back when the man was a Quodpot healer he'd run into a time or two after games, and, well, there were some things that were best kept in the past.) He'd never actually thought of the healer as an asshole except for a little while around Christmas when Nat had been so broken up about him, and that was mostly just a reflection of his twin's hurt and anger.
Right now, Njall was firmly back in his good graces, which had a lot to do with him being really cute and also the father of what Tony already considered the best baby in the entire universe. He grinned across the booth, lifting his glass to him. "Cheers, daddy. Thanks for knocking up my sister, because I'm gonna be an amazing uncle."
In that one second, Njall both cursed the fact that he wasn't already drunk off his ass, and was infinitely glad that he hadn't yet taken a drink, because he was very sure that Tony would have been wearing most of it after that little toast. As it was, he kind of half-sputtered on air, but still somehow managed to raise his own in a weak return of the gesture. He raised a brow at his companion. "You'd be surprised at how completely uncomfortable all of those words put together in that particular order can make a person."
He shook his head and offered Tony a wry smile. "You're still ridiculous, but… you're welcome?" After making a bit of a face, he felt it safe enough now to drink something, but it wasn't much. There was the small matter of being pretty much constantly on call, and also the much larger concern that he'd probably start and then just continue until he'd drowned. Or grown flippers. However the fuck that worked. However the fuck any of this worked. "Isn't this...weird for you? I know it's weird for me."
"Yeah," Tony agreed easily, "it's weird, but the whole baby thing was weird to begin with, and after a certain level of weird you can't get much weirder, right? Plus, we've had more time to get used to the whole thing than you have." He shrugged and sipped at his vodka swizzle, which wasn't his usual taste but wasn't half bad either. "It's weirder for Nat. I mean, obviously, right? I'm so glad I can't get pregnant, I've been reading this baby book and there is just so much crazy stuff that goes on. We really lucked out being guys, let me tell you, man."
He kicked Njall's foot lightly under the table, grinning at him. "So how are you doing with it all? Are you excited or more just freaked out?"
There went that brow again. "Some of us aren't 100% guys," he pointed out, maybe a little archly, "but I guess most of the biology still lines up. Obviously." Njall shifted uncomfortably in the booth seat. The truth was that none of this should have been possible. He'd actively tried before, mostly as a last ditch effort to save an already doomed marriage or two, but had had more than one healer tell him that it wasn't possible. Turned out to be an understandable deal breaker in more than one of his subsequent relationships. "But, yeah. Nat. I can't imagine. If I'd known--"
He'd spun the situation around in his head so much that he couldn't close his eyes anymore without picturing these other lives that didn't exist: the one where he'd stayed just a little while longer, made things more clear with Nat, so maybe she would have reached out sooner; the one where he hadn't gone at all because his mom was fine, and maybe they'd reconciled over this; the one where he'd stayed in Iceland and never ever knew. Any of it. He gave Tony a helpless shrug. "Can't change that now."
His fingers set up a loose rhythm against the side of the mug, dull thuds that were mostly drowned out by the ambient noise of the bar. "Does 'numb shock' make me sound like a monster? Because that's essentially my baseline right now. I can't fathom being a father, especially after never having one of my own." He looked up, staring straight into Tony's eyes, and let the terror into his own. "Tone, I'm so afraid of fucking this up for everyone."
Tony tilted his head at the other man, watching him curiously. "How do you think you're gonna fuck this up, man? We never had parents either, except Uncle Jesse, and we turned out great. And between me and Nat, and you, and Jesse, and Stevie, and like a million babysitters and honorary family members around here, we are gonna figure out everything." He reached across to pat Njall's hand. "Don't worry about it. This little girl has got everything going on for her. Just… stick around, okay? That's all you've got to do, and the rest will be cake." Tony paused, his hand still overtop Njall's. "You are going to stick around for her, right?"
It took him a moment to realize that the thump of his fingers wasn't nearly as random as he first thought. Njall felt his throat tighten. Sofdu unga ástin mín-- he hadn't thought about the lullaby in years. Instead of immediately answering, he found himself quoting the translation. "'Sleep long, sleep tight, it is best to wake up late. The hardship will teach you soon, while the day turns to night, that people feel love, loss, sadness and longing.'"
He sat back, pulling his hand away from the comfort that Tony was offering. This wasn't a world where he deserved it. Shoving that hand through his hair, Njall struggled a moment with this overwhelming feeling in his chest and gut. "I want to, but--" he broke off and bit down hard on his frustration--"just the thought of staying makes me want to run. And I honestly don't know if that's just because this is so huge, or if it's my...my natural inclination. Not to be tied down."
"Huh," Tony commented, and sat back in his chair, watching Njall. "Like because of the whole selkie thing? That would actually make so much sense, right? But I'm sort of the same way -- not about babies, but…" He shrugged. "Relationships and stuff. I dunno. I think some people just are that way. And if you've got to go then you've got to go, but you need to be around sometimes. Just… don't do what our dad did to us. Nat couldn't stand that, and this little girl needs to know her dad, okay?"
"Thing is," Njall leaned forward so suddenly that his beer sloshed over its sides and onto the table, completely disregarded, "I get that! I do! I don't want to want to go. I've never wanted to want to go, it's just always been there, right under my skin." He barked a laugh and drew his wet hand away from the pint glass, where he began to rub furiously at the space that joined his thumb to the rest of his fingers. "It's like I'm always itching to get out of my own body, and, now that I know, it's a million times worse. Do you think I want to leave?"
He was vaguely aware that he'd raised his voice, so he sank back and took a couple of deep breaths. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, but Njall did nothing to stop them. Much more quietly, he confessed: "God, I think I loved her, but that's not enough. That's never enough. And what if it's like that with my daughter? I don't know what to do, Tony. How do I fight thousands of years of genetic instinct? If you have some kind of magic bullet, I pray you don't hesitate to use it. Or find my real skin. Make me stay."
"Aw, hey," Tony said, concerned, and knocked his knee against Njall's under the booth. "Man… it's gonna be okay. So look, maybe it is something genetic or whatever that makes you feel like that, but your genes aren't gonna make you do anything you don't want to do. I'm not a healer or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's not how that works. Look at Thorne Proudfoot -- he's half vampire and he doesn't go around biting people all the time. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. He's an adult, he can bite anybody he wants in a consenting kind of way that's fun for everybody involved." He grinned across at Njall, trying to get him to smile at his dumb joke. "Anyway, there's got to be other people that are half selkie, right? Isn't that part of the whole selkie deal, marrying humans and having kids? You could probably find a support group or something. You don't have to figure it all out by yourself, dude."
He knocked back half his drink and set down the glass, running one fingertip thoughtfully around the rim while he eyed Njall. "Is the skin thing real? Were you actually born with like… seal skin? Because that's kinda crazy, my friend."
It's not that he'd been avoiding the issue--the total opposite, in fact--but the idea of actively seeking out people who might be like him had filled him with dread. All of this was real and happening and there was no escaping it, but actually being around others… It was cement and certain and other people knowing, which was usually followed by Registration and just a wall of prejudicial attitudes and his life so much more disrupted than it was right now. Njall nodded slowly, because what else could he do. Tony really was being helpful, even if his brand of it made him laugh despite himself. "I seem to recall someone being a fan of biting once upon a time. Maybe even fixated?"
He raised a brow at Tony, his meaning clear, even if they didn't talk about ancient history. Ever. He blanched, however, at Tony's last questions, and the whole host of additional concerns it brought up for his soon-to-be daughter. The negative shake of his head was a weak one. "No additional skin, unless you count the webbing." He waved his fingers at the other man and then set it flat on the table between them. "That was a fun scroll to find after mom's funeral. Among so many others." Njall pinched the bridge of his nose. "At the risk of sounding like a broken record: I don't want to be just a bunch of old papers that my daughter finds one day. A half-formed, embittered idea of the asshole that was her father."
Tony smiled across at him. "Okay, first of all, even if you left, we wouldn't let her wonder about you, and we probably wouldn't call you an asshole. At least, not often, and not in front of the baby. I'm not onto the second baby book yet, but I can already tell that seems like a no-no. And… I don't think I've said yet, but I'm really sorry about your mom. That's gotta be rough, man." He reached out to pick up Njall's hand, bending in to look at the skin between his fingers with fascination. "How much webbing? Like, do you think my niece is gonna have a career as a champion swimmer? Nat's a natural in the water, too, so the baby's definitely got a good start in life if she wants to set some swimming records or something."
He grinned up at Njall. "Also, I'm not fixated. I just like what I like."
His hand curled around Tony's naturally as he let out a dry laugh. "Oh, the normal amount, I suppose. Just enough to horrify my mother into booking a healer to remove it two weeks after I was born." He was loath to point out the legalities of participating in competitive sports with a supernatural advantage, so he didn't. Instead, he pulled the other man's hand closer, smile deepening just as much as his voice did when he said, "And I recall you liking what you liked a lot."
A hot, needy sensation shot straight through him. When it passed, he was left staring at their hands in dawning horror. The powerful need to seduce continued to coil somewhere in the region of his stomach, but his rational mind was winning--for now. Njall snatched his hand back, and he all but clambered out of the booth. Rambling excuses barely formed as he tossed on his coat and scarf. "I should-- I have to-- Office things. Clinic. Thanks for-- I've gotta-- yeah."
Tony had leaned forward, drawing his lower lip between his teeth at that deep and ridiculously appealing note to Njall's voice. He was too hot to be allowed. Was that a selkie thing? He didn't know, but at the moment he didn't really care about anything but getting closer, right up until the part where Njall tore their hands apart and almost fell over himself to get away from Tony.
He blinked, and his forehead creased, and he took a second to swallow back a really-bad-idea protest or plea while his mind cleared. "Oh, uh… okay, man," he answered after a minute, and smiled up at him. "Good talk. Thanks for coming out. Let's get together again sometime soon, okay?"
"Yeah! Yes. Absolutely." Njall was backing away slowly, deeply afraid of this pull he still felt. "Let's do that. Sounds great. I'm just gonna go take a cold shower. Go! I'm gonna go. Thanks for inviting me. Tell N-- I'll see you around."
And then he turned and walked briskly outside, where the cold made it difficult (but not impossible, unfortunately) to think of the way he'd wanted to drag Nat's brother back to his place and fuck him until he couldn't see straight right then and there.
Tony watched him go, absently biting at his lip again, and once the door closed behind him he slumped back in the booth with a deep, deep sigh and tipped back the rest of his drink.
It was definitely overly warm in here, or something.