serefin "tranavia's greatest idiot" meleski (meleski) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-11-10 09:41:00
WHO: Jacob Frye and Serefin Meleski WHAT: Finally celebrating their anniversary (this time with less poisoning!), they boys have a talk about the future for a stupid amount of takeout food. WHEN: Saturday, November 5 (backdated) WARNINGS: None, really? STATUS: Complete!
Anyone else might have made a face at Serefin's preparedness for the evening. In fact, the only thing that seemed like he reasonably put thought into was dinner. But an indecisive moment plagued him, and instead of Chinese food or Pho or a little curry dish from the Thai place down the road, it was a little bit of everything. All of their favorites from each, packed into cardboard cartons. And clearly too much food for the evening.
But the chaos of dinner didn't matter. What was important was that Serefin was celebrating something with Jacob that was worth the effort and time. A year with someone who hadn't been run off—or worse yet, killed—seemed monumental. Perhaps he should have dressed up more for the occasion. At least sitting in the main ring in the middle of the Underground, with all the light low except for the one above them was romantic.
The ambiance helped him to avoid the reason as to why they were celebrating now, and not in October when they had their actual anniversary. He had been avoiding that for a solid week now. It did not escape his notice that Jacob was too, and Serefin wasn't going to complain. His ability to hold difficult conversations fluctuated with his mood. And his mood tonight was make out with Jacob after feeding him gyoza.
He was opening containers with a flourish, and showing off their contents to Jacob, while they sat on the blanket. "Ah, and pad thai. I thought I ordered this. I also thought I ordered crab rangoon but I suppose it will show up in a bag somewhere," Serefin said, with a shrug, and went to pick up his chopsticks, despite the fact that he was terrible with them. "Should we make a toast? Skip all pageantry and simply eat? I can make it quick."
Jacob had promised to handle the mood and he did try to come through. The more garish daytime lights of the Underground were turned off and the remaining lamps were dimmed. The fighting ring looked more like the magical nap room behind Jacob's office and rightly so. He'd collected just as many pillows and blankets, making a cozy nest out of the center of the ring. There was music playing from somewhere nearby, instrumental and quiet. It was about the best he could manage without going overboard. He did pull out two candlestick holders as Serefin settled in and started showing off all the food, though.
"Are we feeding an army, love?" Jacob teased. He was lounging sideways into a pillow, one shoulder pressed into Serefin's side, so he made himself sit up a little further to reach for their wine glasses and a bottle of wine he'd opened himself earlier. He jokingly took a sniff at the wine and then leaned over to kiss Serefin's jaw before he went back to filling their glasses. "I'd like to make a toast." He held out a glass to Serefin and lifted his own. "To us. To surviving a year of this place together, as a team. To being too bloody stubborn to let temperamental gods or time shenanigans drive a wedge between us."
Serefin took the proffered glass of wine, and sniffed right back—an easy way to show that the terrible months before were disappearing, and the humor of hindsight was sinking in. He didn't want to be someone who let the idea of possession and death linger, not when he had lost months at home in the same sad state. Serefin had Jacob, among others, to keep him afloat.
His smile softened significantly at the toast, and he made a small here here, before taking a sip. And then another, for good measure. "That was very good, better than mine would have been, which was mostly going to involve simply saying whew, how?" Serefin said, sneaking a kiss back. He didn't pull completely away, keeping their faces close, as Serefin gave Jacob a once over.
"Stubbornness but more precisely, an absolute inability to take a hint to give up. Some days I thought you might change your mind, and figure all the gods and time shenanigans were too much. There are not many like you, towy nóżczko. I am very lucky." Serefin dipped and rolled his head to one side. "It must get easier, because if it is years of how this year was, I am uncertain how I would have become as old as I do without you."
Jacob took a long swig of his wine and set it aside. He'd never been much of a fan to begin with and Velyos had ruined it good and proper but as he'd said, he was stubborn. And he refused to let his distaste grow into anything more than disinterest when it was such a common part of Serefin's life. He had better things to focus on anyway. He reached over Serefin's lap to claim his own chopsticks and snapped them apart as he smirked.
"Something being 'too much' doesn't generally run me off. Sometimes it's a bonus, honestly." He scooped up a mouthful of pad thai and spoke as he chewed. "I might be lazy on occasion and I prefer the easy route when there are options, but when it comes to the people I love, I'll do whatever it takes to keep them alive and well." His sidelong glance was a little uncertain, but he tried to hide it by locating the crab rangoon and stuffing one into his mouth. When he swallowed - uncomfortably - he focused back on the pad thai container. "It may not get easier. Next time might be my turn to put you in a tight spot. Then what?"
Serefin sighed deeply, as if he was resigned to Jacob's question. "Well if you put me in a tight spot," Serefin said, reaching over to dig into the pad thai container and steal his own bite. "I will just have to do our tried and true method and stab you." He was joking obviously, he knew that Jacob needed a more real answer, but thinking about a what if scenario made his brain hurt. Serefin put Jacob through a lot, and had asked for so little in return.
Tapping the back end of his chopsticks under Jacob's chin, Serefin wanted him to look up, stay in the present. He didn't like that uncertain expression on his face. "I have burned through an entire country simply out of obligation for a war I did not understand and a crown I did not want. If you do believe that I would not do something more out of my love for you and to be assured of your irrefutable safety, I have done a terrible job of making it known. I would spend my life making sure you had no doubt." His voice was clear, unwavering, fierce in a rare way. He would rather die again, then let something happen to Jacob.
They had come too close, that hand on his throat was like a phantom memory. Serefin's instincts felt off, like there was something else unspoken. He put his chopsticks down. "There is something else?" Serefin asked, though it didn't sound like a question, more like a statement. He reached for his wine glass. "Should I drink more before I hear it?"
Jacob snorted. The dark joke was a relief and it gently eased him into the fierce warmth of the rest of Serefin's words. Emotion felt dangerous close to the surface and he swallowed to loosen the tightness in his throat. He smiled, crooked and tender. The food was forgotten for the moment as he turned to press a kiss to Serefin's shoulder.
"I didn't doubt you, but I think I needed to hear it out loud anyway. What with this I thought you might change your mind business." He hooked an arm around Serefin's neck and pulled him closer. "I don't need easy, I just need you. Whatever that may bring. Whoever that may bring," he smirked. Adrian was still heavily on the mind, but not heavy in his own right. Jacob mostly found his thoughts drifting to what his childhood might look like. How hard they would likely work to make sure he had one better than their own.
Jacob slid his arm down from its perch but kept his hand pressed to Serefin's spine. "We should probably talk about all that, yeah?"
"I promise to tell you every day if you do not think it would lose its specialness. I will get creative," Serefin said, then captured a quick kiss just as Jacob placed one on his shoulder. He would have much rather devolved into making out in the middle of the ring than talking about things that were complicated. Jacob was right, things were better when they were easy—Serefin also preferred easy—but he didn't need it. He could handle difficult conversations about futures.
He leaned heavily back against Jacob's hand on his spine, glancing at him, then away with a thoughtful hum. "We have been avoiding it for over a week now, I thought if we went longer we might have missed our opportunity, and we could stumble around with fate and destiny until we landed on the right path." Now he was going for the wine, a habit he should have kicked, but it was its own sort of safety blanket.
"Is that something you want or wanted?" Serefin said, as he drank from his glass. "Children, teens, properly together young adults who could put us in our place, and consider us their parents?" He stared down into his glass, considering. "Somehow we managed, and I am not certain how I feel about it. Even with some time.
Jacob pulled a knee up to drape his other arm over. It wasn't that he was actively avoiding eye contact. He was simply trying to piece together his answer to Serefin's question in a thoughtful way and not just spew out the first thoughts that came to mind. This seemed like something that deserved a little extra care.
"I...think I assumed a family was somewhere in my future. At home, we were always teaming up with street urchins and the like. And sure, maybe Evie was better with them, but…" He shrugged, a flustered smile twitching at the edge of his mouth.
"I like kids. I like the idea of trying to give them a home and not forcing a life on them that they don't want. Fatherhood wasn't high on my list of priorities but it had potential. When I was ready to step back from the Assassin life." He reached over and took a fortifying swig of Serefin's wine without removing the glass from his hand. "Is it something you want or wanted? Or should I take that uncertainty about how you feel as a not really?"
Watching how earnestly Jacob spoke about kids, and how he would treat them as a parental figure, settled something warm and pleasant in Serefin's gut. He agreed. His expression softened, and he didn't even complain about the stolen drink of wine. If he had been adamantly against the idea of children, Jacob's conviction was enough to sway his decision. But it was less about having an opinion, and the fact that Serefin hadn't given much thought to them at all. He wondered, was that worse?
He shook his head. "Not not really. But not a yes or a no. It is an I do not know. I know that is not what you want to hear however." Serefin made a small displeased noise and reached for another container: pork and vegetable fried rice. As he began to rummage for a plastic fork—because there was no way he was going to attempt this with chopsticks—Serefin continued. "No one lives long in Tranavia, and the life span is even shorter for those in the royal family. And then if you do manage to escape childhood alive, it's conscription or political marriage. Raising a child in all of that was—ah ha." He had found the fork.
"I was content on letting the Meleski line die with me. Perhaps if you asked me that question home, I would have been against them simply because of the life I couldn't give them. Here? The possibilities are endless. I just did not believe I could possess a fatherly bone in my body." Serefin paused, and blinked up at Jacob, and smiled. "Now, I must have at least one. I do not hate the idea."
“Oi, I wanted to hear the truth, nothing more or less.” Jacob made a petulant face, but It twisted more somber than bratty. Every story about Tranavia seemed to be awful. If nothing else, Jacob hoped Serefin never had to go back there. He watched Serefin move around looking for a fork and stabbed distracted at his pad thai container with his chopsticks. “As much as I wish your stories of home might surprise me one day.”
He took a bite and chewed slowly, staring off in thought. “My father thought he was doing what was best for us.” It didn’t sound like a compliment but it was likely the nicest thing he’d said about Ethan Frye in Serefin’s presence. “But I don’t know that he had a fatherly bone in his body. Of if he did, he gave it up by the time we were six or so and training started.” Jacob could remember only the vaguest impression of fatherly moments before then. Family dinners by a fire. Being read to and tucked into bed. The memories paled in comparison to the ones that came after. “I don’t look at you and think of how he was. I think you have a better chance at being a better father than you think.”
His expression turned embarrassed. “If you really wanted to try, anyway. Some day.”
"Ah, one day they might. Remind me to tell you about how Ostyia became general," Serefin said, preening. Tranavia may have sounded terrible, especially with all the talk of bad fathers who were responsible for his childhood, but there were good moments Serefin could peel out of his memories. Ones he created, almost out of rebellion.
Serefin reached into the pad thai container to sneak a bite for himself. "I think all fathers in some way believe they are doing what's best at first, but it is a consequence of circumstance that changes things. Some are more susceptible to that change than others," Serefin said, but not because he wanted to give excuses to Ethan Frye or Izak Meleski. Serefin believed that neither he nor Jacob were born out of cruelty that they received later on. Staring at Jacob now, knowing him intimately for a year, nothing about him seemed to hold the capacity for pure unkindness either, despite all of it.
He leaned in quickly to kiss Jacob's cheek, the corner of his mouth, that spot where his jaw and ear connected, to chase away the embarrassment. "I would like to try someday with you, towy nóżczko. You give me hope that we are not meant to follow the same paths." Serefin pressed into Jacob's shoulder with his, giving him a suggestive look. "You know what that means, yes? Many more anniversaries."
"I would like to hear that story," Jacob grinned. "Especially if it has any embarrassing bits about Ostyia in there." He highly doubted; if there was anyone he knew that seemed incapable of doing anything she could ever be mortified about it, it was Ostyia. But a bloke could hope. He got distracted from that thought by Serefin leaning in and kissing at him anyway. He hummed, pleased.
"I...blimey. Well. Good to know." He ducked his head to press his face into Serefin's neck for a moment, smiling against his throat, and then he sat back up to wink at him. "I'll take every one of those anniversaries, gladly." Feeling lit up and warmed through, Jacob poured himself some more wine and finally got properly settled to eat. He sent a crooked smile Serefin's way. "Next year, let's do that thing where people jump out of a plane, yeah? If we're going to be dads one day, we need all the really good stories to tell."
Serefin lit up. It was never lost on him how making Jacob smile gave him a special kind of pleasure. He followed along, pouring more wine, and gave up on the fried rice, searching for another container. Whatever hesitancy that lingered about the future, the present, and all the things in between felt like a distant memory. Serefin winked right back at Jacob.
"I have plenty of good stories," Serefin said, sounding mock offended, as he stabbed at a piece of broccoli. "And you jump off buildings, are they not high enough for you?" He was teasing, naturally, but he put forward a bit of his beef dish to Jacob as a peace offering. Feeding your boyfriend was romantic on anniversaries, right?
"But I could be convinced for next year. If everything goes smoothly, and we have no complications—" Unlikely in Vallo, but after this year, maybe. "We'll need some adventure."