A Little Less Conversation
Characters: Kyle and Leandro Setting: Morning - courtyard, cafeteria, Leandro's room
As the crowd began to disperse, Leandro was amongst those who eventually left his post and stalked back up the yard, his shoulders drawn up around his face. He didn't bother to look back or wait for anyone else; his compassion had run out on him. It seemed there was a limit to how much disappointment he could handle before he abandoned it for the typical layer of iron around him. It was easier that way, not to expect much from anyone, but now he had to mull it over and try to take it in stride that one of those he felt so despondent for was Wren herself. Despite everything he would have thought about her, she was the one who put the victims to the stocks and locked them in. He could no longer keep her colored with the same innocence in his mind. It felt like the bubble of gentle exposure he'd been experimenting with for the past few days had thoroughly burst.
As he walked he was not paying much attention to where he was going, though his clip was fairly fast for him. He was headed in the direction of the cafeteria, since something was supposed to be there and no matter how he felt he wasn't willing to just leave it on the ground for the poachers to pick over. It could have been something useful. As he went his eyes skimmed over the ground beneath him, the grass brushing past his boots.
Kyle had kept to the side throughout the entire proceedings, talking to the odd person here and there, but never for very long. As everyone else disbursed, he considered whether he should really stay with Meg, but in the end decided that he couldn’t watch her night and day. After all, that was why he’d asked Adam to help in the first place, and he knew he couldn’t put so much responsibility on his own shoulders - especially unasked.
In the end, he headed off towards the cafeteria. He wanted to see whether the items he had requested for himself and Leandro last night had arrived. It was only belatedly that he realised he was following the man himself. The man who was quite clearly unhappy with him today.
But Kyle had never been a coward or one to edge away from a difficult issue. He preferred to deal with matters head on. Lengthening his stride, he caught up with Leandro as they entered the cafeteria and reached out to place a hand on his forearm. “Hey - can we talk?” he asked.
Leandro waited until the cafeteria doors clicked shut to turn on heel, glancing to either side to see whether or not anyone else was around. It seemed fine for the moment, but he was sure that wouldn't last. And he was sure the person who he was abruptly meeting eyes with for the millionth time that hour would not like to hear what Leandro had to say to him in public, if his feeling was right.
Then again, the entire ordeal had been made very public. Why not keep with the fashion? Leandro stood just a few inches away from Kyle's face, his eyelids lowering a touch. For now, he didn't brush off his touch. "What?"
Kyle paused. Somehow he had been expecting that Leandro wouldn’t hold off on giving his opinions, and so the single word threw him. He dropped his hand and took a half step back. “You’re not happy with me right now,” he said - an observation, rather than a question.
Leandro kept staring at Kyle flatly. So Kyle was going to confront him, and then make him do all the heavy lifting? No. He didn't have the energy for that.
"Good job, you figure that out by yourself?" he asked, and then turned away again. He was aiming for the pile of packages near the elevator, hunting for his own name.
Kyle watched him for a moment, then sighed under his breath. “It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. If looks could kill and all...” He tried for a smile, but it didn’t quite make it. “I don’t want to start this off by making excuses for my choice. But it doesn’t quite sit right with me either.”
Ah-hah. There were two things here for him. One was square and squishy - probably clothes or some other kind of linen - and the other was small and square. This one Leandro took to a table and plopped down there, tearing off the packaging to get to the box inside.
"I don't think we could be friends if I found out you were comfortable with someone being stuck in stocks, Kyle," he told him candidly, not looking away from his work. "I don't really care what they did. Point being too, I don't know. And unless somebody died and made you God, neither do you. So how you can decide what you decided, I don't know."
Kyle didn’t move, staying where he was as Leandro walked around. “I’m not comfortable with people being stuck in stocks,” he said, firmly and immediately. “I’m - I’ve always believed that if someone’s done something wrong, then there should be come back for that. But that, out there - I don’t know.” And yet, he had chosen the way he had. “It seemed different, before this morning,” he added, in a slightly quieter voice. Today his opinions had been brought out into the bright sunlight and he wasn’t sure he liked what he saw. But it was hard to change beliefs, he couldn’t just suddenly do a u-turn. Instead, he was left feeling more than a little lost.
A camcorder. Leandro finally got all the paper off and there was that damn camcorder inside. Just when he seriously didn't feel like playing pranks. It was enough to make him throw a hand over his mouth and laugh at the irony.
"God, look at this. I write the pigs a letter about how I want a lawyer and say nothing else - I didn't even do the assignment - and I get a camcorder. Other people do who knows what, maybe even nothing, and they get tossed in the stocks or tazed and dragged out of here by the ankles."
He sighed at first, as if simply enjoying the situation. Then he snapped hawkish eyes up at Kyle. "Does this look like a fair, black and white world to you, sunshine? Does this look like a place where you should trust the people who stuck us in here? We got one damn thing in here, and that's our own brains, and we can't even use them. Half of you are so mindless you'd do anything for the sake of being "good", and the other half of you would do anything to save your own skins. Pathetic."
The fact that he was now grouped in with the ‘other’s by Leandro wasn’t lost on Kyle, but he managed not to flinch under the sharp gaze. He might have been doubting so much that he thought he knew right now, but that hadn’t broken his core. Kyle had always hated to be seen as weak and he was not going to quail now, just because he was being snapped at. Even if some part of him believed he deserved it.
“I would have liked to think that people could be trusted - yes,” Kyle answered, knowing he most likely sounded incredibly naive right then. “And until I saw what they’d put out there - I was willing to give them some trust about what had been done. Now... I was wondering earlier on if it wasn’t all just set up to watch how we’d react. And once I started thinking that, I wasn’t sure what to think any more.” He stood firm in the centre of the room, if anything, his posture straighter than normal, his hands by his sides, his eyes tracking Leandro’s movements, never leaving his form for a moment, meeting his eyes when he was able to. Kyle was hardly comfortable right now, yet his voice was firm and steady - a result of being stubborn more than anything else.
Despite his harsh words, Leandro was still lounging fairly easily in his chair. They were nearly polar opposites, the way Kyle deflected with stiffness and Leandro reacted languidly, as if at least in body whatever confronted him could roll right off. His eyes were the only hard element, peering out from behind the curtain of his hair.
"So then tell me, if you doubted what were you doing why would you vote to push ahead anyway?" He tapped his fingertips on the tabletop impatiently. One more small tell of anxiety. "Knowing what was on the line. If they are seeing how we would react you helped make it so they'll believe they can do these things to us. Don't tell me you're just a follower now. Not when I was starting to like you." A breath steamed out from between his lips and he finally looked away, turning his profile to Kyle. Even still he could sense Kyle's demeanor. He wondered idly if the artist had ever been punished that way in front of his father or something. It looked very boarding school.
Well, wasn’t that just the irony? Kyle had never considered himself to be a follower, and yet for today, his choice had literally come down to just that. Still, he was not going to hide behind his opinions. Lifting his jaw slightly, yet maintaining eye contact, he began to speak again, “Before today, I would have said I would make that choice - and I know you don’t agree with that, but if this had been a theoretical thing, that’s where I would have thought I would put myself,” he said, firmly.
Then Kyle exhaled, deeply, and with it, he seemed to deflate somewhat, his posture becoming a little more relaxed and he brought his hands together, running his right thumb over his left palm, a nervous habit. “And then I got there and - like you said. It’s not black and white. And I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. Which way I was going to go.” He laughed a little. “Again - you’re right. Clearly I’m just a follower. Today, anyhow. I was with Meg - they took Dom yesterday and I’d just found her in her room, looking like she’d spent all night tearing it apart. She went that way - and I followed her. I didn’t know which way I was going to go exactly - and she made my mind up for me.”
"That's nice and all," Leandro said, "But the worst timing ever. I don't care if Meg is having a seizure on my face, it wouldn't make me give absent consent to torture someone else. I mean, come on."
He paused to slap his palm onto the table for punctuation, thankfully not too loudly. He was engaging Kyle again, twisting in his chair. "How would you explain that to those people outside? Sorry, Meg was having a bad day so you have to sit in some stocks for hours whether or not you did anything anyone cares about?" Leandro omitted the fact that he was reasonably sure what one of them had done, but it still didn't warrant the punishment if that had been all. Then he waved one finger pointedly at Kyle. "I'll remember that, though. You're firm on cause and effect, not so much motivation. Next time you find yourself between a rock and a hard place I'll know exactly what to recommend for you."
“You’ll never have to recommend anything for me!” Kyle shot back, immediately. That was one thing that would never be a problem with him, that was for sure. “And do you think they’re innocent? Either of them. Do you think they did nothing? Because that’s a whole different conversation and god! That’s half of what’s got my head twisted round!” he exclaimed, starting to pace, back and forth. “Did they actually do anything? What did they do? I mean - nothing that anyone’s noticed, which means it’s either something so fucking small that nobody knows about it, or it’s something... I don’t know - that nobody’s found out about yet. And yeah, I could kind of see it - them not telling us, because... There’s people in here that wouldn’t think twice about deciding exactly how someone should be punished for wrongdoing and maybe that would be worse than what’s out there. But - now there’s this and it’s...” He shook his head, coming to a stop, facing Leandro. “It doesn’t feel right.” Kyle had always stood by his own decisions, no matter what. They always felt right. Other people might have been practically screaming at him that he was making the wrong choice, but he went with it anyway. Right here, right now - it felt like he had made the wrong decision.
While Kyle went on Leandro began to slowly shake his head. His mouth drew, and he didn't make it completely apparent why until, somewhere around the middle of Kyle's rant, he began to laugh. Low and weary and not particularly humorous.
"We all want to say that, you know," he chuckled. "That nothing will ever go wrong and we'll all just be good, marching through life smoothly. Well, I think you know by now too that shit happens. Sometimes the rules don't cover a situation. Sometimes the rules don't make enough room for you."
He sat forward in his chair, even as Kyle bared down on him, and steepled his fingers on the table. "Good old thought experiment. A man breaks into a shop and steals stuff because he's just greedy. Another man comes and steals shit from the shop because he's starving. Now who do you punish, and why?" Leandro rose both eyebrows at Kyle. "I've seen it for myself. Happens all the damn time. But it's all just scum to you, huh? Tell you what. It half doesn't matter whether or not they really did anything. I want to know what it was, why, and how the victim feels about it if there even are any. Because yeah, nobody is exactly running forward to tattle on them. Maybe you feel bad because you condemned some people without knowing why, and maybe they want you to feel that. Where is your sympathy? Did you learn anything at all by being kicked around the court system? You said it yourself. Half those people outside don't know what empathy is. Maybe they forgot. Maybe they never did."
"I didn't get kicked around the court system. And it's not that I think I'm a perfect, good person who will never do anything wrong. But you'll never have to recommend anything for me, because if I do do anything... I'll put myself forward before you'd get a chance," Kyle told him. "As for your example, the first man is guilty. The second man needs help. Just like what I did was worse because of my background. Because I had absolutely no justifiable reason for it. People aren't just scum to me, no matter what you think of me because of my background. But I don't see any starving people in here either. They've given us pretty much everything we need. It's harder to say things are justified, surely?"
"Lucky you," Leandro sighed back, picking at the camcorder box. There was some tape there that he played with between his fingers. "Isn't that what you said you did the first time, too? Can't say I totally get it. If someone could offer you help, why wouldn't you take it? There's probably plenty for you, cute and polished white boy. I bet you could be on a rehab vacation somewhere nice right now, like in Colorado with the ski bunnies. Why'd you do all this?"
Leandro tempered the thought in his mind and could not rightly say whether he would use such privilege or not, had he been in the position. The most chilling, but most logical, thought said that he wouldn't know any better in that case. He wondered what it was in Kyle that had taught him to be this way. Not that it was all bad. It was very rare, and even sort of sweet. It helped. Slowly, Leandro got out of his seat and stood to face Kyle. He put his packages under his arm, the other lifting to brush against Kyle's arm for a moment.
"I'm getting out of here. I don't feel like being out anymore. You coming? We can finish inside."
"I told you yesterday. I needed to be able to look myself in the mirror again. I couldn't live with what I did, so I figured out what I needed to do to make things right," he said, knowing full well that that was not what most people did. But it had been what he had needed to do, and Kyle had always gone his own way.
He was, however, surprised at Leandro's question. He almost asked if the other man was sure he wanted him around, yet he held off. If the answer was going to be negative, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. "Let me just see if there's anything for me," he said, instead, crossing to root through until he find his own small pile of packages.
While Kyle looked through the packages, Leandro waited patiently for him. He was silent throughout, but much of the brooding had gone from his exterior. Waiting gave him the moment to look at Kyle, to really think about him. Nothing he had heard suggested that Kyle was a cruel person. Perhaps just... misguidedly good? And not self-preserving in the way Leandro understood. He was talking about self-punishment, something Leandro had never considered even despite his myriad crimes and poor treatment of himself.
Most of all, he realized that what had bitten him so coldly earlier at seeing Kyle cast his vote didn't have much in common with hatred. He couldn't make himself hate him. Not just because he really wanted someone like him around, though that was part of it, but because he just... it was that something about him.
Coming up behind Kyle, Leandro said quietly, "My place or yours? But when we get there, there's something I've been wondering. What were you like before? Why does it scare you so much?" He vividly remembered that Kyle had been able to intuit his "before", and it brought back things he hadn't thought about in years. What was Kyle really looking to forget?
"Your place," Kyle said, without hesitation. "It's closer." And they wouldn't have to walk around the courtyard to get there. Which meant they wouldn't be presented with the inescapable reality of the subject they had just got over talking about. "And when we get there, you can wonder all you want about what I was like before." He wasn't exactly sure what else to say to that. He regretted nothing, but he had come to know better than to expect anyone to support his choices. He still thought Leandro would be of the opinion he had thrown his life away. And someone like Leandro would have considered a life such as his had been to have been something which ought to have been treasured.
Once Kyle had his packages, Leandro nodded and turned to lead the way. He was several steps along when he realized something, slowing down a touch. "Hah!" he murmured, smirking at Kyle. "I just asked you if we were going to your place or mine, and neither of us made an off-color comment. It has been a shitty day, hasn't it been?"
That bit of levity introduced, he reserved the rest of the conversation until he had come to room two, unfastening the lock and letting them inside. Leandro left his packages on the desk and went right for his couch, sprawling out to rest his tense muscles. "Make yourself comfortable," he said belatedly to Kyle from underneath the arm that flung up to shield his eyes. He wanted to rest them for just a moment. If Kyle actually was to make himself comfortable on the couch he'd either need to sit on Leandro's chest or move his feet. "And please, continue."
"Yeah, it's been a really shitty day," Kyle agreed, following Leandro into his room. He hovered as the other man sorted his things out and went to sprawl. At the comment that Kyle should make himself comfortable, he raised an eyebrow, looking down at Leandro, running his gaze pointedly along the other man's body.
After a moment, he turned and placed his packages alongside Leandro's, before sitting down on the desk chair, turning it to face the couch. Crossing his legs, he made himself as comfortable as he could, but the type of chair itself meant he was sitting a lot more formally than his counterpart. He was also raised higher up, so by necessity was looking down at him. "Who I used to be..." he mused, thoughtfully, thinking about where to start with that. "I never wanted for anything, growing up. I had parents who were supportive and understanding - well, to a certain extent," he explained, with a crooked smile. "All my life, people have expected certain things from me. 'Expectations' are always there, when you come from where I do. My parents at least let me go my own way, but even then they assumed things about me." He shrugged, "I never liked it when people assumed that I couldn't do things, or I wouldn't want things. I would always act out in the other direction. Always try and prove them wrong - you know some of that already. I was stubborn, I was contrary. I did a lot of things just to prove to myself and everybody else that I was my own person and I was going to do my own thing, regardless of what they thought. My opinion was the only one that mattered to me, and I was never wrong."
Running a hand through his already messy hair - a reminder to him that he was actually having this conversation still in pyjama pants and bare feet, having only thrown on a hoodie earlier as a vague nod to being up and out of bed - Kyle continued. "I'm an artist - I always was pretty much ruled by my emotions. I figured that if something felt good, it had to be right. I didn't really stop and think about anything. If it felt good, and I wanted it, I'd do it. And I'd encourage others to do it too. That's who I used to be."
For the brief moment that it lasted, Leandro seemed to relish the gaze on him, stretching out even more until his back arched in a way he thought appealing. Then he fell back into the cushions with a sigh, listening to Kyle while peering around his arm. Some of what Kyle said he expected: not wanting for anything, nice parents with high standards, the like. What did catch his attention was Kyle's description of his own personality, which made Leandro genuinely smile in a pleasant, impish way.
"Really?" he wondered. "Independent, stubborn, contrary, out there, emotional..." Leandro flipped himself onto his stomach and propped his face up on his elbow on the arm of the couch so that he could just peek over at Kyle in what was even a coy manner. He sighed dreamily. "I think we're soul mates, baby. You sounded hot. But you kind of look like Sandra Dee. Did you get a lot of attention from the boys? And what were these expectations, hmm?"
He laughed at that, still playfully hiding most of his face behind his arm so that he was mostly a pair of sable eyes with their dark lashes. "And how much of that is still true? I can see it in you sometimes, but I wonder how much your new caution has taken away. I like this about you, you know? That you're not just an artist in name or something. Somewhere in there is someone who's an artist down to the core, with all the emotions and expression that go with it. The way you said it yesterday, when it overcame you so much that you closed your eyes and everything."
After a pause for thought, Leandro added one last thing. The corners of his eyes crinkled upward with it. "You know what? Here's my new goal. I want to make you feel like you can be that around me, if nowhere else. Even if you're too scared of everything else in this whole place, and I'm not saying you shouldn't be, then when we're in here and we're safe you should be him. I want to see it."
It shouldn’t have been harder for Kyle to deal with Leandro when he was acting like some kind of playful cat, but it was – in a way, at least. It made Kyle want to just agree with everything, like it was a great idea. Somehow, the other man just made it all sound so harmless, and things which otherwise would have gotten his back up – like being compared to Sandra Dee – didn’t bother him so much. Still, he felt the need to raise that point. “I know what I look like – but what I look like and what I am are two different things. That was the expectation. I look like this, I’ve always been an artist. I’m gay. My parents were fine with all of that. At least I didn’t have to contend with the whole ‘thou shalt get thee to some Ivy League school to become a lawyer, or a doctor’ or anything like that. But there was this assumption that I was going to do something delicate and safe. Prancing around with a paint brush. Maybe something in fashion and design. Definitely something at one of the best art schools. My parents wanted me to pursue my dreams, but they also wanted to be able to brag to their friends about what I was doing. Children are like a competition. Another way of showing that you’re better than your friends.” Kyle chuckled, darkly. “I never did live up to what they wanted from me. Especially now. Shocker, right? Now, I’m still the same person. I just channel it better – or I’m trying to.”
Kyle brought his knees up, resting his heels on the seat of the chair, wrapping his arms around his legs so he was practically in a ball. He rested his chin on his knees. “I was in for a year before I came here. I wasn’t being anything then. I was just trying to keep my head down. Keep myself safe. There wasn’t much room in that for emotion, or expression. I think I just buried it deep. Since I’ve gotten here – it’s like I’ve started to find myself again. Piece by piece. And it’s not all there yet. So, I don’t know how it’ll - I’ll - end up. But, I’m trying to think about things more, and I’m trying to channel all that excess emotion into my art now. The edge of his mouth quirked up into a smile, “Which it sounds like you’re going to try and talk me out of.”
Leandro's head lazed to the side while Kyle seemed to focus on that particular train of thought. It wasn't that he didn't care that it bothered Kyle to have his appearance and personality compared - he understood perhaps better than anyone - but he hadn't meant for it to sound so negative. "But I like the way you look," he tried, but Kyle had said quite a lot there. He gave it a moment before responding.
"You don't have to worry about it. I'm not going to baby you. I know you're an adult with your own mind, or else I wouldn't make half the suggestions to you that I do." Leandro waggled one eyebrow for show. "If you were really a delicate flower then I'd say something like that and you'd just faint, but you can take it. Nor could I argue pretty openly with one. But there's something else, though. What was up with your parents? Overcompensating? I thought usually parents wanted their gay kids to try to act more manly and hide it. Was this like... we're so trendy we even have a gay kid, so please be gayer? Or were they really afraid for your safety if you went out to do more dangerous stuff?"
That was a bit confusing. He sat up again for now, the coy position not suiting the mood anymore, and slid off the couch. Once his boots hit the floor he paced a few steps as if in thought, and then went to Kyle's side by the chair. He was halfway balanced on the desk on his hip. "I don't really know anything about parents, but I understand about the past year. It wasn't a picnic for me either. Where I was, there were gangs everywhere and if you didn't find someone to protect you you'd get yourself destroyed. That meant pretty much doing whatever they asked you to do, whenever they felt like it." Leandro wrinkled his nose in repulsion. "I probably came out in fewer pieces than you, though, because I was already used to that kind of shit from everyone else in the city. It's a way of life for me. After so long of having nothing, it makes you..." His voice trailed off, his shoulder lifting slightly. "...it makes you not expect anything either. If you don't want anything but what you can do for yourself nobody can take things away from you. But it's not a real life. I know. You don't deserve to have to do that. So, if what it takes is for you to sort through every last thing you ever thought, then I hope you can do it."
There were perhaps multiple meanings to that. Leandro had spoken of expectations before, especially in regards to his intentions towards Kyle, his mannerisms. Were they really because he expected nothing, or because he couldn't muster enough optimism to be serious? Hiding things in jokes was easier. The last thing Kyle said made him feel just that way, leaning in a little to give him a private little smile that reached up and narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to talk you out of it, but I wouldn't complain if you spared a little for me."
Kyle shook his head as he looked up at Leandro now, though he didn’t unwrap himself from his ball. “It wasn’t about my sexuality. At least, it never came across that way. I doubt they were particularly surprised or anything... But it was more that - yeah, I’ve spent most of my life looking like a delicate flower. When I first brought up that I wanted to study metalwork - and that I didn’t mean small, intricate little pieces, that I meant full scale, far bigger than me structures - the general response was that they thought it was a joke. I heard a lot of ‘you’re not strong enough, Kyle’, or ‘surely you’re better suited to... fill in the blank’. People - not just my parents, everyone - made assumptions about me my whole life. With my parents, it wasn’t only that though, they didn’t get it. I was easier to understand when I was producing beautiful portraits and sweeping landscapes. They got that. They didn’t have to think about it to decide whether I was good or not. It was something they were familiar with, that they understood. And that wasn’t just a matter of taste. With fine art, even if you don’t like it, you can appreciate whether it’s technically good or not.
When Leandro started to talk about how it had been necessary to find someone to protect you, Kyle looked down, resting his forehead against his knees. “I wasn’t used to that,” he said, without looking up. “I learned pretty quickly though,” he said, darkly. His tone didn’t suggest he wanted to get into it. He didn’t - he just wanted to forget all about it.
The way Kyle seemed to fold up even tighter at what Leandro had meant as camaraderie at least sent a small pang of anxiety through him. He wasn't quite sure what to do, whether he should try to help or not. On one hand, it seemed like the right thing to do, but on the other he had built up such a history already with touch that he was afraid Kyle would take it the wrong way, or that he'd smother him. In the end, he decided to push his own desire away and just moved to bend down near the chair, balancing with his knees bent so that he was just under Kyle's view.
"Hey," he said softly, putting his hand out with palm open. He hoped that Kyle would decide for himself. "It's okay. I understand. You're safe now. That won't happen to you anymore. I know it's going to be really hard to forget, and maybe it's like you'll never trust another human being again... but it'll fade, okay? I promise. You don't have to stay in that world forever." He was trying as hard as he could to look earnest, to look like someone Kyle could come out of the little shell he had made for. There was someone interesting, someone special in there. Someone he wanted to know, no matter what he said. "You know what? I believe you. Remember what Wren said to you? When she gave you a card. It was the Strength card, and I think that's pretty great. The thing about that card... I was reading this once... but the thing about it is that it's both things. It's anything it wants to be but never too much. On one hand it's a beautiful woman, and on the other it's a powerful lion, and the woman has her hands on the lion as if they work together, as if they can choose who's best for a situation and what feels right. So I hope what Wren was seeing is that you can do that too. You can be in awe of how big your metal sculptures are and feel small or you can be amazed that you can hoist girders and stuff and do that. You can be beauty and strength and nobody should make you feel bad."
Kyle didn’t lift his head from his knees, but he did raise his eyes enough to peek down at Leandro. “You’re different, sometimes,” he observed, his voice quiet. “Most of the time, you’re this loud, brash, larger than life character. And then there are those moments - you’re sweet. And kinda kind.” He’d seen it with Wren before. And now it was facing him straight on. He wasn’t sure that he bought entirely what Leandro was saying, but he more than appreciated the sentiments he could feel behind them, what he was trying to achieve, or so it seemed.
And god, he understood, that much was clear. Without him even needing to say anything in detail, Leandro clearly understood what he had gone through. Kyle knew that meant that the man had to have had his own experiences, and there was part of Kyle that wished dearly that hadn’t been the case, but right now, he was simply deeply appreciative that someone just understood. Belatedly, after moments that felt like forever, he let got of his deathgrip on his knees and reached out, brushing his fingertips barely against Leandro’s, never looking away as he did.
Leandro's pulse began to rise as soon as Kyle peeked out from behind his knees, though he couldn't say why. It wasn't like when he was playing around; this was deeper, digging into his core. He wanted to hear Kyle's voice say those things, to accept comfort from him, for it to be meaningful. Now that he had, Leandro didn't know what to say in return. He averted his own gaze down to his hand. He watched as Kyle brushed his fingertips against his own, felt his nerves twitch underneath. He moved in tandem with him to bring his fingers up and glide against his palm. They started near the creases to his wrist and followed around, over the hill of the pad of his thumb, into the valley of his hand's center, back out towards the gaps between his fingers. It was a little strange, experimental maybe, but something about it was tingling, electric.
He looked up again to meet Kyle's gaze. His tongue wet his dry lips and he murmured, "I... I want to try." A light haze of confusion passed over his face. Something in him knew that he'd forged ahead before he'd even put a name to the emotion, but honing it, freeing it, feeding it, calling it a name might feel good. Was it the empathy he knew intellectually? Maybe, but it was so personal for that.
Kyle mirrored Leandro’s movements against the other man’s palm, his touch feather-light, hardly even there. “I like it,” he admitted softly. He noticed the look which passed over Leandro’s face and continued, encouragingly, “It feels real.” His words echoed back to one of their first conversations, to when Kyle had called him out on flirting which didn’t seem personal and which Kyle hadn’t known how to take as a result. Even once they’d talked about it, even once Kyle had settled to understanding where he stood in whole thing a little more, it had felt like a game. A distraction to pass the time. It still hadn’t felt personal. It hadn’t felt real.
That wasn't the kind of "real" Leandro thought of first. He remembered just the day before, when Kyle had spoken about not feeling like real life affected him. This... whatever they were doing, then, it was cutting through both of their barriers. It was seeping in and taking root. "It does feel nice," he agreed just as softly. His gaze admired the shapes of Kyle's fingers over his hand. They felt like educated hands, their touch so surreal and well-measured. Like whispers.
After a long moment in which his heartbeat started to echo in his mind, Leandro spoke again. "It is real. It never wasn't. Only sometimes it was just real underneath, just... just in case." He sought out Kyle's eyes, but didn't elaborate on what he meant by that. It was making itself apparent enough by tugging around in his chest, making itself known as the sting of fear for rejection. Even now, he worried that Kyle might pull his hand away, or disapprove of that admission.
Kyle lifted his head just enough that Leandro could glimpse the twitched smile that crossed his face, echoed in a momentary gleam within the depths of his eyes. “Now who’s scared,” he teased, though his tone didn’t get any louder. It was still soft, a little sad, but it was clear that he was slowly coming out of the tight ball he had wrapped both body and mind up in as he moved enough to ghost the tips of his fingers across the back of Leandro’s hand, passing his thumb across his palm. He felt safe here, in this moment.
Leandro smiled at that too, a gentle close-lipped expression. He remembered something else Kyle had said, and mimicked what he remembered of him then. With a lifted chin, he said, "I'm not afraid of you."
He too was beginning to feel a little bolder the longer they held this contact, so when he felt Kyle's touch on the back of his hand he turned on him, curling his fingers inward. He laced them all in between Kyle's, their palms taking full contact with one another. If Kyle didn't flinch away at all, he'd get up on his knees a little further and sit closer. He went between meeting Kyle's gaze and looking at the rest of his face.
At the turn, Kyle looked down, his gaze focusing on their hands, watching as their fingers interlaced, neither taking an active roll, nor pulling back at all. The soft, non-aggressive contact was helping, pushing back all of the bad things he didn’t want to think about. But yet, as that tide ebbed, it left behind a growing awareness of where he was, and the positions, the touches, the glances and soft words and the tension that hung in the air that spoke of the fact that neither of them was quite confident in what they were doing, but that they were clearly doing something. And somethings led to other somethings and Kyle could feel the pressure of that building. Yet he wasn’t ready to pull away, not yet. He didn’t want to lose this moment, and the connection which came with it.
It felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe. As if, should he move at all, everything would shatter. He couldn’t even speak. Instead, Kyle simply watched their hands, their fingers, until the movement was complete, and then he raised his gaze to once again meet that of the other man.
Leandro could feel the tension too, so badly it was like a string pulled tight all through his core. It hit him very suddenly what he wanted, his fingers squeezing tighter around Kyle's, but he couldn't be sure Kyle would even let him. Or if trying for it would ruin everything somehow. Or if doing it now would be selfish. Or any number of doubts. But it was like gravity, the softness of those pretty eyes, his sadness, his warmth. He'd wanted it all along, since he'd started down this path with him. Like Kyle, he was not one to be a coward either. Leandro pressed a little closer still, enough so that the gap between them would not take too long to cross. To soothe his doubts, he drew his brow in softly in question and glanced at Kyle's lips before facing his eyes again. "...could I...?"
Even though it wasn’t explicitly stated, Kyle knew clear enough what was wanted and it scared the hell out of him, his frame tensing more than a little, his breath hitching. The way his legs were brought up against his chest suddenly felt like a wall, a barrier between them, giving Kyle enough space to not actively panic. He didn’t want to panic. He didn’t need to panic - but that soft moment had suddenly been broken and the receding waves had come crashing in. And what made it worse was that he wanted it. He wanted to say yes. Those emotions he had been talking about earlier were practically screaming it, but he had locked them away for so long that instead of propelling him to some kind of action, they had him frozen. “I...” he began, his eyes begging Leandro to understand, when words failed him.
He couldn't pretend that the sudden tension, and not of the romantic quality they had just been experiencing, stung suddenly and kind of hard. Leandro pulled back when Kyle tensed, away from his face and releasing his fingers. A brief flash of that just-slapped feeling of disappointment came over his face but he shoved it away, screamed at it in his mind to get out. He didn't want to punish Kyle for not being comfortable with it.
"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly, stumbling on his knees. He was trying to stand up and let Kyle breathe, but it took him getting a grip on the edge of the desk before he could manage even halfway to sort out his tangled legs. "It was a stupid question. Nevermind. Just don't even worry about it."
Kyle's heart broke at the look which flashed over Leandro's face in that moment and, as the other man scrambled to his feet, Kyle rushed to do the same, unfolding and following him up. "No," he said, reaching out to grab the other man's arm. "I didn't mean it like that," he proclaimed, assuming Leandro had taken his reaction as an outright rejection.
Leandro took the grip on his arm as a cue to turn back, once more facing Kyle directly. He'd had a second to take in a breath, to try and process, but his mind was mud. It was no use. All he needed to hear was "no" and his heart was back to thundering. Trying to process Kyle's fear, tension... but he never let go. He hadn't been the one to let go of their hand hold. Leandro had.
It was too much to think about. There were too many voices crowding his mind and none of them were effective against the pull Kyle was still exerting, so he gathered himself up on the inside. He put his free hand to the side of Kyle's neck. He leaned in and just did it. Leandro pressed his lips tight to Kyle's and gave him a strong close-mouthed kiss.
Kyle had seen it coming, in the moment before Leandro's lips had met his, he had known. And yet he had not backed away, the flurry of emotions which had been caged inside of him finally breaking free. He met the kiss, sliding his hand up the other man's arm to his shoulder, brushing against the fall of hair there.
Feeling Kyle's lips responding, the hand on his shoulder, ignited Leandro's senses. The hand on Kyle's neck moved to sweep through his tousled hair and then fall down his back, smoothing the entire curve from high to low. It was joined by his other hand, and in tandem they took him by the small of his back and pulled him close until they were flush together, chest to chest. He moved over Kyle's mouth as if he wanted to kiss it from every angle. First he captured the bow of his upper lip, then sank into the soft plush of the lower.
A soft sound escaped Kyle as Leandro pulled him in closer and he simply let go of all his thoughts, abandoning himself instead to pure feeling. He wrapped his arms around the other man, tilting his head upwards, their slight height difference more apparent than usual because of his bare feet.
At first, Kyle was content with simply allowing himself to be kissed. But he had never been too good at passivity and, after a moment or two that changed as he began to return the kiss with equal fervour.
Leandro made a soft, throaty sound of his own with Kyle's heightening the pace. He pressed into his arms, tightening his own as if he would hike him closer by the waist if there had been an inch left between them. He shifted his thighs against him, denim snagging at pajama material. It was so easy just to dive into him now that the barrier had been smashed, to feel the play of Kyle's soft lips beneath his. There was no hesitation left in his body or mind. God, but Kyle was amazing, and so beautiful. Leandro used the tilt in Kyle's chin and his own angle to his advantage to break just enough to part his lips now, to deepen into the heat of his mouth and draw his tongue into tangling with his.
Kyle matched him, lips parting easily as he ran a hand up into Leandro's hair, pulling it back from his face and twisting it around his fingers, his other hand resting between his shoulderblades, pushing him further into the kiss, a subtle and seemingly unnecessary encouragement. The artist lost himself in the kiss for seemingly endless moments before he slowed and broke it, dipping to kiss softly at Leandro's full lower lip, teasing it and then he carefully pulled the piercing in between his lips, running the tip of his tongue across it, testing. He looked at Leandro, his eyes which were usually a myriad of blues and greens now dark, his breath strained and unsteady.
Leandro felt the tension on his hair weaved between Kyle's fingers and pulled against it lightly with a tilt of his head. The slight pain made him growl with pleasure in the pit of his throat. He loved the sensation. It made his eyes cloud even further with lust, apparent when they opened to meet Kyle's. His breath was heavy too, hot and thick on the lip Kyle kissed, his flesh giving softly at every movement of his lip ring. He softened his own touch out to match Kyle's sweet little laps. His arms that had been wrapped tight loosened and his open palms rested on Kyle's back. They slid up a few inches, caging his sides, and then they moved down to over his hips. One broke from the other and tentatively skimmed over Kyle's pajamas to cup his backside. Leandro paused there to see how Kyle reacted to such a touch.
With his lips barely moving he whispered, "What do you want to do?"
Kyle dropped his head against Leandro's shoulder with the loaded question, his mind swimming with the possibilities, the ways he could answer that. Some very graphic images of want pushed their way to the fore, leaving Kyle shuddering a hot breath over the other man's chest as he tried to get himself under control enough to think about an answer. The fact that Leandro had wanted him to just be able to act without thinking here in this room swam to mind, but he doubted - in a way hoped - that this hadn't been exactly what he had been referencing when he'd said that. This felt like something that had come later. Maybe not the attraction - that had always been somewhere there, he thought - but the action. It hadn't seemed like a plan. If it had been, there had been an act there.
Kyle shook the thought away. No, it was nothing like that. Leandro may have vastly confused him in more than one way since they had met, but he had never actually given Kyle any reason to think he couldn't trust him. He had always been honest and upfront, even when the answers might not have been exactly what he wanted to hear.
Trust, trust - it all came down to trust. And he wanted to trust the other man. Yet he didn't even trust himself. He had made himself promises when he got here, and right now he was breaking them. He had only been here for six days. And anyway, this felt like a totally different thing. This felt real. This wasn't some deal, some bargain. He was in control here.
Turning his face in towards Leandro's neck, he closed his eyes for a moment, his arms dropping to loosely encircle the other man's waist. He didn't make any attempt to get him to move, nor did he want to. As before, he wasn't actively pushing for anything more, but he wasn't pulling back either. "I - I'm not in the best of places right now," he said, at long last. "I can't just... If that's what you're after. You said before, that you were just... in the moment. Nothing more. No expectations, no promises. I don't think I'm up for that. If that's all you wanted, then maybe we should just leave things here," he said, hoping as he said it that that wasn't going to be the case. He didn't think it was, after Leandro had talked about things being real underneath. It suggested there could be something more.
Having Kyle rest against him like that helped Leandro to relax too, letting the tension release from his nerves in a slow fade. It wasn't the outlet his body wanted; all it was reaching for was another taste, one more slip of skin from Kyle. Coming all the way down off this high would hurt, but the mind and the heart knew better. It became clearer to him that he had Kyle in a delicate position, with the way he rested against him and hugged to his waist. Leandro's own touch evolved from an undeniably sexual one to one more compassionate, supporting him. He gave up on feeling him up and just encircled him back to match.
It was for the best. It was really for the best, his mind told him over and over while Kyle tried to explain. Kyle had such a way of worrying about his intentions, and even if he meant well going all the way now might mean confusing that. He truly was not out to take advantage of the artist. Simply to enjoy him.
Added to that was the cold chill of where they both had come from. No, they weren't in the best of places. Neither of them. Leandro still had a vial of blood out there undergoing a very serious test, and until it got back to him he couldn't imagine callously fucking someone he actually liked. Protection wasn't foolproof. As soon as he thought of that, he winced to himself. It had put itself conveniently out of his mind.
"Listen, Kyle..." he started out softly. "Let's just stop here. Not because I don't like you, okay? But because I do. And you don't want it like this. Neither do I." He paused to drop a fond kiss onto Kyle's hair. "It sounds like you haven't had anything special in a while, and if I can do that for you then I will. Maybe another, better day."
He didn't want that to sound too harsh, so he offered Kyle a little extra reassurance by way of a squeeze around his body and more kisses to the side of his face, playfully nuzzling them in. "You want to get all dressed up and have your hair combed and not be worrying about anything. Maybe some sweet music, and a whole night free just for you. That sounds like your speed."
As Leandro spoke, Kyle felt himself relax, the tension leaving his body as he realised that his decision wasn’t going to screw everything up, and the other man wasn’t just in this for what he could get right now. “I’d like that,” he agreed, lifting his head enough to place a series of feather light kisses along the underside of his jawline. “I mean - I don’t need that whole over the top romance thing. I’m not Sandra Dee. But... Just, time.” He drew back enough that he could meet Leandro’s eyes. “I’d want things to be special for you too. Not just... The way they were.” He knew they’d had some of the same experiences. And he knew now that so much of the other man was a front. He wasn’t the only one who was hurting. He just didn’t know how to hide it as well.
Leandro lifted his chin to open himself to that treat, purring softly in his throat again. He closed his eyes for a second until he felt Kyle's warmth move away from him a little, then opened them again to meet his gaze.
"Thanks, baby," he said with a light, teasing smile. "But what if I do, eh? What if I like romance and shit? I just like flaming hot quickies too. You never know. It could be fun."
He laughed to himself at that, his sense of humor seeming to bubble up again from just under the surface. One hand reached up and smoothed over Kyle's cheek. "But fine. So you aren't Sandra Dee. But there's one thing you have to tell me before we're done."
He paused to look rather seriously into Kyle's eyes, dipping his chin for focus. "Are you a top or a bottom? Because I can't decide." The nature of the question suggested that it wasn't something imperative. Perhaps still playful after all. And he didn't mind the insinuation that he'd been thinking about it.
Kyle pressed his forehead against Leandro’s chest with an honest and open laugh, then looked up, smiling widely and looking truly relaxed. “Lots of things can be fun,” he agreed, feeling yet more tension ebb away. “Who knows - maybe I can teach you a thing or two,” he teased. God, they came from such different backgrounds, that much was almost a given, though Kyle was beginning to be aware of how much they had in common despite that at times glaring fact.
At his question, however, Kyle leaned in to capture Leandro’s lips in another kiss, short, but deep and full of promise and one which he drew back from with that self same smile, feeling so much more confident now that he knew that there was no pressure here. “Switch,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “At least, at first. Then... It depends.” He’d always found his own balance with a partner when it had been left to them. He liked the discovery, the redefinition. The idea that he didn’t have to be one thing or another, regardless of where they ended up. He liked to start things open.
Even though they had been going back and forth for a bit now, Leandro was momentarily stunned by Kyle's reaction. His radiant smile, the clarity in his eyes, even the sound of his laughter, like music... Leandro stumbled through the kiss with a soft "mmf!", leaning forward automatically as if to catch his balance on Kyle. He could not think of any other time in which someone had looked at him that way. It was confusing and frightening and beautiful all at once. He tried to hide the way his body tensed again, hands grasping at Kyle's hips as if unsure of where to hold him. This was the second time now that he had acted on what he thought was best and been somewhat overwhelmed by Kyle's response.
After feeling thoroughly plumbed by that kiss, Leandro laughed shortly and tried to formulate something to say. "Yeah? There's something you want to teach me?" he wondered. "Are drawing lessons about to take on a whole new meaning?"
They probably were. It was likely that any interaction between them would never be the same after this, but somehow that wasn't such a bad thing. It was Leandro's turn to let his thoughts race into the perverse at Kyle's answer to his question. "Switch, huh? I could be down for that. I'm not dedicated to any position. I might like to see you taking charge. You're already pretty good with the commanding hair pull." There he grinned madly, unable to hide his excitement. It was beginning to feel like standing on the edge of something he could not help but jump into, scary or no.
When Leandro seemed to misstep, Kyle shifted his position naturally, going from leaning on the other man to a more dominant position, clearly more confident now. And certainly feeling the need to question absolutely everything far less. Now that boundaries had been defined, he was free to play within them. In that, he knew, he had changed from what he once was. Once he wouldn't have had boundaries at all. "Drawing lessons, hmm.... Yes, maybe they'll take on a whole new dimension. And maybe so will those music appreciation sessions you promised me, " he suggested, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and biting it a little as he smiled.
Kyle once again threaded his fingers through the dark hair, pulling it back from Leandro's face. "There's just so much of it to work with," he said in response to Leandro's comment. "On this side, anyhow, " he amended, lightly. This felt good, unpressured. For Kyle, it left him feeling free to be himself without burden or baggage. "I don't recall hearing any complaints... "
The fact that they had set a precedent before then of Leandro leading and seducing a reluctant Kyle made his dominance very novel. Naturally fairly secure in himself in this way, Leandro didn't mind so much letting him have the control for the moment. His views on boundaries were different. They were something to be constantly shifted and adjusted with new context, and it was how he managed to hold the views on expectations that he did. Yesterday, he wouldn't have imagined being allowed to shove his tongue down the artist's throat, and here he was today with his taste still fresh on his lips. Boundaries shifted. Everything changed. Fortunately, this was an exciting one. Kyle's ideas on switching appealed to him on this level, too. He could imagine, if they were to have a long sexual relationship somehow, it being refreshing and fun to constantly move those boundaries on purpose.
He recovered from his misstep on the uplifting quality of more playfulness, finding a grounding against Kyle that let him keep on grinning expectantly, throwing his arms over Kyle's shoulders and leaning in to bump his nose into his. "So you mean I get my nude after all? I can think of some ways to put a twist on dirty dancing." He chased around that bit lip for a second, but only until he felt himself caught by the hair again, leaving it at an ineffectual nip that tried to reach and just missed. "You sound like you have a plan of your own..." he murmured velvetly. He gave his hair a shake for show, the trapped ends trembling against Kyle's hand.
The nose bump surprised Kyle a little, though in a good way. It felt like another glimpse of the softer side of Leandro, even within the current situation. "Maybe," he said, teasingly. "If you're a very good boy." Kyle purposefully didn't make it clear which comment the 'maybe' was in reply to. Possibly it was both of them. He liked seeing the playfulness in the other man - it had been there before, of course, but then it had been more aggressive as he had chased. Right now, it felt more pure to Kyle, which could have simply been because right now, he wasn't trying to run.
As Leandro nipped at his lip, Kyle drew back a little, fractionally tightening his hold on his hair, watching Leandro's eyes to see what he would do as Kyle kept himself just out of reach, still teasing, a smile playing across his face.
Leandro strained just a little against his own hair, not enough to hurt either of them between having his hair tugged and having Kyle's fingers caught in his hair. Just enough to grant the appearance of Kyle having him leashed by it, and he was eagerly straining to get off. "But I'm no good at being good!" he said with a definite pout to his voice. There was a glimmer of determination in his dark eyes. "I'd much rather be bad. You'll come to prefer me being bad, too."
His hair might not have been free, but his body was. Even while he was being held, he could easily use agile movements to tease Kyle into making a move anyway. He'd just see how strong his iron will was then. His hips rolled in towards Kyle's, brushing against him lightly with the promise that they could touch if Kyle would just let go.
"You gonna be a bad influence on me, hmm?" Kyle posed, though he didn't sound at all surprised. He was figuring that was going to be the case. If he sat down and listed all the reasons why he really shouldn't get involved with this guy... But they were all offset by the other side, the reasons why he was still here. He wanted this. Leandro had caught his attention from day one, fascinating and confusing him in ways that, for all they scared him, had never really been frightening. Fascination had led to attraction and whilst Kyle hadn't quite worked out exactly how he felt about the other man, it was certainly enough for this. And certainly enough for the games Leandro was playing right now. He wasn't the only one who could do that. Kyle didn't move, didn't openly react to the light touch of Leandro's body, as though he were entirely oblivious. Instead he fixed the other man with a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Are you going to try and corrupt me?" he asked.
"Maybe," Leandro only half-agreed, with an elusive dip in his eyelashes to cover his gaze. "Maybe I'll be the best thing that ever happened to you." He broke into an over-confident smile then, trying one more time at coming closer. That sweet look would honestly drive him crazy one day. It was enough to make him drool already. Whenever Kyle looked at him that way, all he could think about was getting a bite and nothing else mattered.
"My first goal," he added to what he'd already said. He was painting it on thick, smoothing the palms of his hands greedily over Kyle's chest and snagging on the zipper of his sweater. Even if they weren't going to have sex they could still have plenty of fun. "Is to distract you for as long as possible with making out. I hope you didn't have plans, because I think I could kiss you for hours." Leandro licked his lips for show there, making sure to glide slowly over their generous curves. This was honestly the most fun he'd had in ages.
Kyle's gaze dropped to Leandro's lips as his tongue made an appearance, following that path, leaning in a little more despite the fact that he was the one who was meant to be teasing here. Kyle had always been a terrible tease, though not an unfair one. Only when it would be taken in the spirit it was intended, never to lead someone one. But now, the tables had very much been turned. "I have lunch, with Becka," he said, not lifting his eyes from those lips, still able to taste them on his own. He liked the idea of Leandro's plans, that much was eminently clear. "But not until... lunch," he added, his tone absent, distracted.
With one finger hooked on Kyle's zipper, Leandro started to pull it down slowly, inch by inch, relishing its growl as it released. Each tooth pulled apart revealed one more peek of skin, and he wasn't about to stop unless Kyle stopped him. He was aiming for an eyeful. "Then why don't you come with me? Until lunch." Locking eyes with Kyle, Leandro paused in his effort to unzip the hoodie and grabbed the open ends now instead, to tug Kyle towards the bed.
"Just to make out," he reassured Kyle one more time, just in case it made him nervous. He added a disarming wink.
As the cool air of the room hit his chest and with the slow way Leandro was revealing an increasing amount of his skin, Kyle became suddenly aware of the fact that he hadn’t actually gotten dressed that morning. Habitually, his sleepwear was simply a pair of cotton pants, nothing else. So there was nothing under the hoodie he had donned first thing. It meant that he really did need the reassurance that Leandro offered, and he was grateful that he hadn’t had to push for it, but that it was offered spontaneously. It was a welcome balance to the way that Leandro pushed his boundaries, leaving him feeling both comfortable and challenged in a way that he previously would not have thought possible.
Disentangling his hand from the other man’s hair, Kyle allowed himself to be led. “Just to make out,” he agreed, the smile sounding in his tone. He didn’t sound reassuring though, rather his tone was one of promise.