Gideon Theophilus Unterkoffer (giddyinthesky) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-01-12 16:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-06-29 |
Kitties and Vampires Do Not Mix
Who: Gideon and Gareth
When: Early Afternoon
Where: Tara
Gareth gathered Cat into his arms, grinning as she butted her head against him, purring low. "Hey baby-girl. We gonna go visit uncle Gideon. You'll like him I bet. He's real nice." She was soft under his calloused fingers, warm and tiny. He had loved all his previous pets, but this green-eyed angel took the cake. "See? Yer excited already." His hands stroked along the length of her back as he tucked her in closer, cradling the small animal the way one would cradle a baby. "Uncle Gideon is gonna love you." It was muttered softly and he made his way out the front door and into the sunlight with a smile. Her eyes grew wide at the abundance of sunlight and smells and almost immediately her tiny form twisted in his arms, trying to look at everything all at once. He let her, careful not to let go entirely. The last thing he wanted was to lose the kitten. "Stay calm now Cat. It's a short walk, an I don't want you goin' after no birds or nothin'." He approached Gideon's door, stroking her head, and then finally stopped to knock, shifting his weight as he looked down at her.
Gideon glanced over as he pulled a heavy batik tunic over his head. He'd just gotten back from a spot-shift at work. Having a damn cell phone was turning out to be everything he'd feared. He didn't mind his job, but it was the principle of the thing. Well, at least he had the rest of the afternoon to catch up on his reading and knitting, and maybe he could go out busking later. Enjoy what was supposed to have been his day off anyway. John Wesley Harding spun on the record player, Dylan's voice calling out a warning against chained women doing harm. He smiled. It was daylight, so that'd really have to be Gareth. He was aware of a slight hesitation, but all his anger had dissolved a long time ago, and if there was lingering discomfort from last time they'd been alone together, he'd get past it. He'd missed his friend. And there was a lot to tell him. About Misha and the demon fighting, running into old friends, making new ones... He smiled his usual gentle smile as he opened the door, right hand unbraiding his hair from the tidy pigtail he wore at work. "Hey, there, Stranger, what's-" He stopped. He smelled predator, undampened by a human scent to go along with.
"Gideon!" Gareth's voice was bright, excited. "Lookit what D found. Her name is Cat. She's like, six weeks old or somethin' and god damned cute as hell. She likes the milk and shit we give her--" before he could properly show her off however, the kitten was twisting in his arms, hissing, yowling. He was startled, arms tightening around her tiny frame in an attempt to keep her in place. "Cat, calm down girl, it's okay. What's wrong?" She began to claw along his arms and chest, screeching and trying to get away at any cost.
She was cute. Super, super cute. Gideon really wished he could have a kitten. But he had about half a second to take that all in. "She's super super cute Gare but animals hate me better git her outta here!" He spat it out as quickly as he possibly could. Gideon didn't usually speak quickly, and it sounded very odd, panicky and high pitched with the usual hoarseness of his voice increasing considerably. He felt rather bad about it, but he went to slam the door. He'd apologize as soon as Gareth had the kitten away. The adorable, sweet kitten he really wanted to snuggle and kiss on the nose and give milk from a little bowl. He'd always had cats when he was a child, and he'd adored them. Until he'd turned, cats had just loved him.
Before Gideon could close the door, Cat was yowling and sunk her claws deep into Gareth's arms. He let out a yelp and his grip on her loosened. Like any cat, Cat landed on her feet and took off running. "SHIT Gideon! Come back, she got away." An icy panic seized his chest, making his throat tight and his stomach drop. His feet were moving, going after her, but she was fast. He had just lost the one thing Dusty seemed to be happy about lately. The thing that, in turn, made him happy. "Cat! No! Come back!" She darted around Gideon's Van, and he lunged after her, feeling terrified tears in his throat. He wasn't going to lose Cat. He god damned loved her already.
Gideon heard the cry and winced. Damn it. Why did animals have to hate him? He loved them. He felt much worse now than he had when Dusty had seen him in the throes of the new moon's influence. Gideon had never for a moment considered himself evil, but there was something unnatural about creatures who'd once slept happily in his bed deciding he was a menace, to be fled or attacked on sight. He didn't even want to open the door. He'd scare her again. But he doubted Gareth would hear him yelling through the windows, and they didn't really open anymore. He cracked the door. "Cain't, Gare! Luna House thing. Critters won't git near me. She'll run further if I come out! ...Um, she's cute though." He sounded flat and miserable. Damn...
Gareth's eyes were wide with horror. He couldn't lose Cat. He couldn't. Dusty thought the world of her, and so did he. "Cat... please, come here!" His voice was high-pitched and whining and for a moment he was convinced she was gone for good. He couldn't see her, and... he felt tears threatening. They couldn't have a pet, ever. It wasn't fucking fair. In the span of a day he had grown maddeningly attached to the tiny creature -- she was something sweet and lovable that he and Dusty could dote on and still feel masculine, something they both cared about equally. Dusty hadn't even pitched a fit when he'd brought home nearly four hundred dollars in cat supplies -- and Dusty was a tight-ass about money. "Caaaaaaaaaaaat!" His voice was the most pitiful thing heard in years, the wail helpless and full of distraught. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a quick flash of white. Without thought he flung himself forward. He landed on his stomach, but his hands closed around a soft fur body and there was a yowl that was distinctly feline. Mindlessly he pulled her against his chest, clutching her close. "Shit. Shit shit. Cat. Damn it." The relief was so profound that for a moment the blonde couldn't breathe. Finally he stumbled to his feet, a few stray tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and he pounded on Gideon's window. "I'm takin' her home! I'll be back Hoss!"
"Uh, okay." He walked over and pulled the curtain aside, ignoring the fact that he'd have to spend half an hour sealing the blinds up again so he could sleep past dawn without feeling ill. Through glass it shouldn't be a problem. He was pretty sure it was scent they reacted to. Dogs didn't usually give him dirty looks through windows, anyway. "Um, sorry, kitty cat... I, uh, don't mean t'scare y'all." Gideon grimaced, eyes cast down and looking rather ashamed. First time they'd really seen each other in days, and he'd scared Gareth's sweet little pet. "See y'when y'git back. Give her somethin' nice an' let the kid calm down a little first." His voice was muffled through the window, barely comprehensible. Gideon managed a weak little wave.
Gareth hurried her home, setting her down on the kitchen floor, petting the kitten nearly frantically, brow drawn. "Kitten, don't you ever, EVER scare me like that. EVER again!" He chastised her, throat raw from shouting. "I gotta go apologize to Gideon." He informed her and paused long enough to get some treats down for her. "I'll be back. Don't leave." He made his way back to Gideon's, feeling weak. His muscles hurt, his lungs were aching for air and he had to pause to cough up some blood. All the stress he'd put on his body over the past few days was starting to take its toll on him, he could feel it in every fiber of his being. "Shit." He grumbled, wiping the blood from the corners of his mouth and straightening, finally reaching Gideon's place. "I'm back. Cat free."
He opened the door with an apologetic smile. "Man, I'm so sorry, Gare. I guess I fergot t'tell y'about that. Dusty knows, but he ain't the chattiest guy ever. I guess I just didn't think y'all might pick up a kitten anytime soon. Boy, she's awful cute. Anyway, yeah, my kinda vampire scares the shit outta animals. Big ones try'n rip my head off'n li'l ones bolt. I got friends what take me with when they go out walkin', like in swamps or woods. I keep off the skeeters." He realized he was blathering and just stood aside. "I'll shut up." He bit his lip, a nervous habit from life that looked perfectly ridiculous with the addition of fangs. It was brighter than usual inside Tara, the blinds of one window hanging free. Gideon's work uniform was folded on the driver's seat and the bed was neatly made with his new book and the sweater he was knitting sitting atop. "Uh, how's it goin'? Other'n me freakin' out y'poor kitty?"
"Don't feel guilty Gid. You couldn't help it." He made his way into the van without being invited verbally and made himself comfortable. "You seem down. Everything alright man?" He asked, hiding the fact that he was still struggling with the relief of catching Cat before she could really get away. "Don't let her get to you, can't help that animals is weird. I mean, maybe it's cuz you smell like death or somethin'."
"Nah, it's a special thing. My house only. Worst thing, hands down. New moon ain't nothin' to it." Gideon made a face. He wasn't in the best of moods for plenty of reasons, but the cat was a perfectly good explanation, and he didn't really feel like going into any others. At least he'd gotten to play with that awesome weredog today. He'd been pretty cool. "Natural animals just effin' hate me. Ain't a problem otherwise, y'know? Or Dusty'd have issues. Guess I cain't really visit no more, though. She'll either hide under a couch're try'n kill me from the ankles down." Gideon sat beside him, cross-legged, and picked up his knitting again. He was in a mood where he really needed something to do with his hands. "Y'okay? Don't look so hot." He knew Gareth well enough to notice these little differences now. The poor guy was pale and wheezy. Gideon tried to make it sound casual. Gareth was awfully touchy about dying, which Gideon could understand, even with both of them knowing the little blond vampire was really the best possible confidante.
"Eh. The usual, fightin' with D, coughin' up blood. Life will go on." Gareth shrugged, looking mostly content. "Feelin' a little more weak. It's weird Gid. Like... I went fer so long, coughin' an pissin' blood, havin' dizzy spells, but, you know, I drink a lot and smoke a helluva lot more. Ain't nothin' new, but now that I know what it is, I like... I notice when it's happenin' more. I wake up and there's blood coatin' the inside of my mouth. It feels like once the doc told me I had it, it decided to make itself worse or somethin'." He shook his head, leaning back against the futon. "Dyin' slowly is weird Gid."
"Hell, yeah, it is," he agreed. He wanted to bring up the topic he knew he needed to, but the words caught in his throat. He wasn't quite ready yet. He hadn't figured it out. "If it gits real bad y'cain always come over here. I cain give y'the spare copy'a the key in case I ain't around." He remembered the horror of hiding it the worst, and having somewhere warm and friendly to go when Gareth needed his time alone would help. He reached over to squeeze Gareth's shoulder. "But hey, I'm around a lot, y'know." Gareth was a little too macho to be sure of how to comfort him. Gideon wasn't sure if he was going to get snatched and hugged, which he most assuredly didn't mind, but he didn't know where to go between "just chatting" and "getting aggressively snuggled."
Gareth, for once, just wanted some space. He had never been much on physical affection and the previous two weeks of near constant cock blocking was finally starting to get to him. He didn't want to touch Gideon, or Dusty for that matter, for a while, but he didn't mind the squeeze to his shoulder. "Hey, no worries Hoss. I know where I can go. Ain't exactly made a ton a' friends since movin' into town, but, you know, I made one good one, an' that's enough." He ran a hand through his blonde hair, eyes distant. "What have you been up to? It has been a few days."
"Um, lesse... I joined that demon-fightin' crew. Not quite ready t'start, but I got a real cool partner so far. An', uh, I got a cell phone. I fuckin' hate it already. Confuses the shit outta me. But there y'go. So far it's just gotten me called into work for an extra shift. An' I guess if there's trouble... or y'wanna order dinner sometime y'cain borrow it." Gideon rested his hands in his chin, smiling. It was good to see Gareth again. He'd been lonely. "Uh, ran into some friends, made a couple new ones, I guess..." Making friends was easy for Gideon. He didn't really keep them, except in an idealized, vague way in the back of his head, and in his little photo album. Except for thoses rare ones who stuck. Gareth being the most immediate case.
"Demon fightin' crew huh? Dusty an' I went out lookin' for some of them Demons--" He stopped then, shaking his head. He wasn't about to tell the were-helping vampire just how good he and Dusty were at killing. "But it were a stupid idea. We didn't find nothin, probably for the best, coulda got our asses kicked and shit. Think you'll kill a bunch of 'em or anything hoss?" He asked this all quickly, trying to cover up for his near mistake. "What kind'a old friends?" He asked, curious as to others that Gideon might know in the area.
"My buddy Jim. Ain't seen him since forever. Weremoose. He's Canadian. Cain't help it, though, so we let him git away with it." He supposed Jim was the only old friend. The others were new, pretty much. "And, uh, I dunno. But I'll keep the damned things offa folk, prolly. I think I cain do that. Thing was, last time, I din't have any damn idea what I was up against. I've dealt with moon-mad weretigers, y'know? Ain't like I ain't had my trial by fire, y'know? I'm not some untested kid an' only know the theory. I won't be so damn spooked next time. An'... hopefully it won't stick m'feet t'the ground." He'd have been a lot more effective had he not had the soles of his feet essentially glued to the ground.
"Well I wish you luck with it hoss." Gareth murmured, shaking his head. "Them things are all over the news. No gettin' yerself killed." His hand crept up to give Gideon's shoulder a brief squeeze. "An' man, y'friends with too many damn weres." Closing his eyes, the blonde allowed himself to sit in silence for a pause. "You gonna use yer ninja powers to take out them demons?"
"Jus' the right number, I think." And adding on all the time. That was one thing he liked about Ann Arbor. So many interesting people. He'd met a witch and a psychic just a few days ago, and there'd been all sorts of people at the meeting, and just on the streets his sharp nose picked up a lot. He'd break Dusty and Gareth of their weird anti-were position eventually. He used the moment of silence (unsure whether it was awkward or companionable) to stretch out on the bed beside Gareth. Used enough to the rhythm to work in his sleep, he continued knitting with the sleeve resting on his stomach, not bothering to look down. "Ninja're Japanese, Gareth. But yeah. Guess that's it. Got all the weaponry out an' polished."
"Wow. Shit Gid. Ain't gonna lie, it's hard to imagine you out there fightin' with swords an' sit. I'll haveta see it some time." Gareth answered, smiling faintly. "So what is you if you ain't a ninja?" He asked, his expression growing confused. "I mean, ain't like, all martial artists who kick ass ninjas?" He ran one hand through his blonde locks, looking at the older man. "Can I see yer weapons? I ain't goan touch 'em or nothin', I mean, hell, I've handled plenty in my time, but you don't fuck with a man's gun or sword." He grinned broadly, shifting to get more comfortable. "Is it very good? The weapons I mean... High quality?"
"I'm a monk," Gideon said simply. When it all boiled down to the core, that was the identity that meant most to him. "Uh, I'll git 'em out." He'd much rather keep lying here. He was feeling lazy. But he liked showing off his arsenal. His weapons were very dear to him and the best make, gifts from his sire and his siblings. "Guess there ain't no reason y'shouldn't touch 'em if y'wanna. Ain't like I think yer gonna cut y'self." Gideon stood and pulled the blankets from the top of the long crate where he'd stowed his swords. Those were his real treasures, twin ken dao with thick, curved blades and deadly sharp edges. The sheaths were very simple black leather. "These're my best."
"Those are fuckin' gorgeous." Gareth breathed, surprised by the quality of the weapons. "I guess even monks can kickass huh?" He laughed and then reached out for one of the swords. "I got a dagger you know, my grand dad taught me how to use it, an a cross bow." He grinned and removed the sword from the sheath, carefully balancing it on his finger. "Well look at that. This is quality. Perfect balence. Nice man." He hesitated before sheathing it again, looking over the patent leather, the handle. "Where did you get these? Your teacher? Chongde? Is that his name?" Gareth asked this softly, curious. His own hunting weapons had been handed down to him, they had been passed through his family for centuries.
"Yup, these're from him." Gideon smiled. A slightly less tender smile than was usual for him. The phone call with Qi was still sharp in his mind and the sting was both old and new. "The daggers come from Kivi." He stood again and fished them out a pair of long, thin knives, just as nice. "An' I got throwin' daggers too. Nice, but not too much t'look at. From Qi." He sat down beside Gareth again, cross legged as usual. "An' I'm good, too. I'm not braggin', just sayin'. I know these right. Just as good as bein' an extension'a me." He didn't like real fights, but he loved his weapons. The art portion of "martial arts" was what he adored. The one thing he'd ever really been good at.
"I'd like to see you use 'em some time." Gareth answered with a smile, blue eyes distant for a moment. He always admired someone who knew how to use their weapons. It was something his grandfather had taught him to appreciate, both weapons and their owners. "I mean, not in battle or anything, though I imagine yer pretty kick ass there too. You probably surprise the hell out of anyone challengin' you, huh? Kickin' ass an' takin names and lookin' for all the world like a kid." He laughed, running one hand through his hair. "Ever had to use 'em in battle Gid? You seem like the pacifist type."
He smiled a little at Gareth calling it a battle. That was the kind of thing Chongde's older ones had been likely to say. "Uh, yeah. T'both, actually. Definitely, like, pacifist." He didn't like to hurt anyone. He was rather glad he never got really angry, even when he should, because he wouldn't be able to act on it. Gideon picked up his work again. He hadn't consciously noticed much about the project. Gideon always made random things, since unless his old clothes actually fell apart he was making clothes to give or sell. He hadn't thought at all about choosing soft, heavy yarn the color of a pale spring sky, hadn't considered picking a Spartan, rather fitted pattern that'd be both practical and flattering, and certainly hadn't given it a moment's thought that he'd sized it for a large man. Because if he'd noticed any of that, he'd have had to notice that his intended recipient wasn't going to need to keep warm by the time it was cold enough to wear the thing, one way or another. "But I told ya about the whole controllin' weres on full moon nights thing, right? I'm young still. Cain't do it too long. Plus y'gotta git up close in the first place. You try walkin' up t'a ragin', say, weregator, an' askin' nicely that she let you poke her long enough t'make the lady calm down. Yeah, I use 'em."
"Oh wow. Shit hoss." Gareth hadn't thought about Gideon's dealing with weres in a while. It was an aspect of his friend's life that bothered him to no end, the idea of the tiny man handling the evil monstrosities that he and Dusty killed for a living. "Well, yeah, I'll have to watch you in action some time then." He answered, settling back and getting comfortable. "You got a lotta little quirks Kentucky, lemme tell you." He laughed, glancing around the van, taking note of everything on the walls for the millionth time. Abruptly, the blonde sat forward. "Gid. Uh, you know how I tried really hard to uh, do bad things with you when I was stoned? I'm really sorry about that." His cheeks burned, bright red as the words came out of his mouth. He hadn't been planning on talking or thinking about it at all. "I was pushy an' that was wrong, an' I... I mean, you clearly didn't want none of it, and it weren't fair of me. Yer a good friend, an' I like us as friends."
"Yeah, we're good at friends," Gideon agreed, his voice suddenly tiny. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. He certainly couldn't talk about it honestly. Regardless of the lack of anyone to speak to, who exactly could empathize with having to push away someone you wanted as bad as fresh air and sunlight? That stupid, irrational little twist of fear when Gareth had... hadn't done much of anything, really. Gideon shouldn't have panicked. As long as he didn't think about it too hard, he'd overreacted a lot. "Weren't yer fault." Oh, Christ, yes it was. What was he, a chick in the first half of a Lifetime movie? He tried to cover that little bit of stupidity with terribly forced humor, twitching his elbow in a halfhearted nudge at Gare. "Do bad things? What're you, man, fuckin' five?" There was a bitter edge in his voice that he really didn't want to be there.
Gareth's eyes widened considerably at Gideon's first apologetic, and then angry words. He wasn't a smart man, and reading emotions was almost as difficult for him as it was for Dusty, so he aptly mistook Gideon's response to mean that the older man was still angry about his advances. It didn't occur to him that Gideon might have been harboring feelings for him. None the less, Gareth fell defensive. "Okay, fine. I'll use the proper wordin' then. I'm sorry I tried to fuck you, and tried hard. Ain't no use in denyin' that I like you -- I mean, you as a person, you're a good friend and I guess I wanted comfort in that. I ain't in love with nobody Gideon--" Oh you liar his mind interjected bitterly -- "Least, nobody that'll understand it, but yeah, I'm sorry I tried to fuck you, obviously it weren't right of me. I didn't realize how..." he searched for the word "offended, you'd be. I'm sorry for that."
"Oh, geeze, Gare..." He dropped his work and covered his face in his hands for a moment, gathering what composure he could. He was normally very good at a straight face, but nothing was normal with Gareth there. He didn't want the man angry with him, and not because he didn't deserve it. He didn't want to hear Gareth lamenting Dusty or his explanations of how he didn't have the least concept of liking Gideon as anything more than a casual friend (or in Gideon's mind, that was what had been said). He couldn't even understand it. In his experience, if you just wanted to screw somebody, it had to be because they were attractive. And Gideon had no illusions there. His sickly body and childish face weren't recommendations to anyone, or at least anyone who's attention he wanted. As far as he could fathom, anyone would have done, and that stung miserably. But anything to make sure Gareth wasn't angry with him. "S'just... fuck, Gare, y'scared me." He half looked up from his hands. "Was kinda outta nowhere. An' a lot at once. Ain't no one's touched me since you was in high school..." He was exaggerating, of course, but not on purpose. Dates weren't a strong point of his.
Gareth sighed. He just didn't understand Gideon. He almost preferred when the smaller man showed anger, aggression -- anything but apology. It made him feel like shit for reacting the way he did so often. With Dusty it was easy to get angry and stay that way. With Gideon, half the time he felt like there was miscommunication happening... that he was missing some bigger picture. "Yeah, an' I' sorry for that Gid. I am. I can't say I'm... Shit. You look like a kid man. I don't do kids, fuckin' sick. But you're probably the best friend I'm ever gonna make next to D, I... I dunno, I was stoned off my ass, but I kind of thought that like... maybe I could show you how much I liked you or some shit. I don't... I ain't in love with you, but you seem... like, I dunno. You seemed so... lonely." He was grasping for the word "isolated", but didn't know it. "And I just wanted to make you feel good but, shit. Well. You know. So I'm sorry I violated personal space 'r whatever."
There it was, a promise that Gareth would never, ever be interested in him. He'd known that, of course. Sure, in a world without Dusty. Hadn't Gareth said something to that effect? Something that haunted Gideon every time he thought about it now? But without Dusty there wouldn't be the Gareth he knew, and that was obvious. Having Gareth's disinterest affirmed was painful despite not telling him anything new. Gideon had learned just the other day that having what he already knew and dreaded spelled out for him was worth its own sort of misery. He didn't look over at Gareth. He didn't really trust himself right now. "Yeah, lonely," he agreed quietly without noticing he'd said that out loud. Why did Gare have to keep repeating it? I don't want a relationship. I ain't in love with you. He knew that. He knew it damn well, for fuck's sake. "S'okay Gare. Really. Don't worry." He almost laid back down. He'd probably never sleep next to Gareth again. He and Dusty were on right terms again. As it should be.
Gareth frowned, confused all the more by Gideon's demeanor. Whatever he was saying or doing, it was wrong, and Gareth for the life of himself, couldn't figure out why. "Gid... man, what'd I do wrong? You oughta just out an' say it. I ain't too smart. I mean, I'm good at puzzles, but not at readin' people, you know? I clearly ain't sayin' the right thing or somethin', cuz you look like I just kicked yer puppy -- you know, if you had one that weren't like, freaked out by yer house or whatever and wouldn't run away -- and I mean, I can't jus' ignore you lookin' so damn upset or whatever." He shook his head, his stomach clenching with stress from the situation. "Is it that I said you seemed lonely? I mean, you obviously got a lot of friends, even if they is weres, and I mean, you got Dusty an' I. D thinks yer fuckin' awesome, I know you ain't really lonely. You just... I mean, I just wanted to let you know that I, I mean, I was tryin' to say..." He was getting too confused. Emotions didn't set well with him, and he was horrible at articulating them. He simply didn't know how to say "I was trying to reach out and touch you Gideon. I wanted you to feel loved, because you are, even if it's platonic. Even if I was stoned. You seemed isolated and lost and I wanted to be a guide." Gareth just didn't have those words.
"Yeah I am." Gideon closed his eyes tightly. "You got Dusty. Y'wouldn't git it." Gideon couldn't put words to what he felt either. Not because he didn't know. Gareth's constant, determined denials of any feelings for him and the repugnant idea of being used for sex by someone he trusted were pouring salt on the wound Qi had reopened the other night, the certain knowledge that Chongde hadn't felt a damn thing for him, that he'd never in sixty years been loved by anyone but his little brothers, the brothers he'd left and who now were strangers he couldn't fathom. He knew all that, and he could probably articulate that. But he'd cry if he did, and if he leaned against Gareth, maybe he'd be caught and held. Or maybe he'd be pushed backward to the tune of a stuttered lecture about how Gareth wasn't a physical person. And if that happened right now, he was afraid something inside would break. "Fuck, I need a break. Fuckin' city's doin' a number on me. Oughta drive out somewhere with real stars..." He then made a terrible decision. "Wanna come?" Right, ask along the one thing he really needed to stay away from.
"I don't know Gideon." Gareth sighed. He was confused by the conflicting tones he got from his friend, and a deeper, more observant part of the blonde believed that Gideon was hiding something big from him. Whatever it was, he was clueless to it. "I think maybe we oughta let the air clear between us a little. Things is feelin' kind of tense. I made a mistake, an' I'm sorry for it, but I think we both need some time to let our heads clear a little, yanno?" He sighed. "Y'a really good friend Gid, I ain't about to lose that none." He stood up, cracking his back. "Why don't you come by in a couple'a days and ask then? Things will be better." He reached out, tousling Gideon's hair with a smile. "Alright. Bye."
He almost grabbed Gareth's hand. He caught his own moving and moved it up to comb his fingers quickly through his hair instead. He wanted to tell Gareth the truth, the same way he'd wanted to let the man touch him. Gideon was usually good at not letting desire get in his way, at accepting happily that he couldn't have everything and not wanting much in the first place. And just as with a couple nights ago, the course of action that would clear the air and make him and maybe even Gareth happy wasn't open to him. Maybe he should tell Gareth... It should be up to him to decide if he even wanted to be around Gideon, knowing that someone who was only a friend to him wanted so much more. But he couldn't bring himself to do the right thing there, either. "Bye," he said faintly, managing a slightly sad smile. He'd tell Gareth... sometime. If he got any sicker. About the same time he mentioned that maybe death wasn't his only answer. If nothing else, Gareth should know that someone valued him as he should be valued, loved him. Or close enough that the distinction wasn't important. "I'll see ya, man."