WHAT: Leon comes to take out some frustrations on Catra and Adora's punching bag, Catra has some relationship advice for him WHERE: Darla WHEN: January 14thish? WARNINGS: Not especially STATUS: Complete
Leon was… Well, Leon didn’t know what he was. He was pretty sure he was pissed off, except he wasn’t quite pissed off. If he was pissed off, he’d probably want to fight about it. Storm up to James and yell at him. If Leon was pissed he’d probably have a good reason to be pissed, and he didn’t have one of those. He knew that much. Who cared if James asked some random girl he used to flirt with to move in with him without so much as floating the idea by him first? Leon didn’t, that was for sure. Why would Leon’s opinion count anyway? It wasn’t like he lived there. Not like Short, Blonde, and Pretty. He wasn’t pissed off about it.
He wasn’t happy though, either. He was avoiding James, mostly, because he knew he was being kind of an asshole to him - short and snappish and not quite argumentative, but only because he was being sullen and moody and recalcitrant instead of actually causing any arguments - and he didn’t want to be an asshole to James. Okay, he sort of wanted to be an asshole to James, but he also knew that if he actually was, he’d regret it immediately. He was trying real hard not to implode his relationship. A relationship that he’d thought was going pretty good.
Really, the whole thing made him want to drink. He was trying to drink less though - no drinks before 5:00, that was his New Years Resolution, and January wasn’t out yet so he couldn’t drop it yet - so he was burning off his annoyance in other ways. He’d gone for a ten-mile run that morning, and now he was at Darla, working off his frustration on the punching bag that he’d gotten Adora and Catra for their wedding.
He’d lost track of time a while ago, but by the time that Catra came to check on him, his bare, scarred arms were glistening with sweat, his hair and black muscle shirt soaked through and clinging to him.
Well. This was interesting.
Catra didn’t particularly mind Leon hanging around Darla on his own. It was a spacious vessel with a handful of decks, halls, rooms. Larger than a standard house, smaller than most known ships suited for space travel. They trusted he wouldn’t touch any unknown blinking buttons or break anything important - and if he were to break something, then their home gym (which had started small, and had equipment added on steadily throughout the months; there was even a pole) was probably the safest room to do so.
Regardless of that - when the fuck did Leon come over to sweat things out in their gym. Usually it was to hang, order some takeout (when she didn’t feel like being the ‘domestic goddess’ Adora so assholishly came she was), maybe watch something stupid or chat. Something was up. Glances had been exchanged with Adora about it and somehow it had been decided that Catra would be the best one to approach him about it.
(Probably a bad idea. Maybe?? Ugh.)
“You stink like high hell,” Catra sneered, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall. A pair of Adora’s sweaters were tightly cinched around her waist with the string, and her top was a little sports bra-esque; it showed off the sets of dark stripes on her fur. “Feeling any better?”
Leon gave the punching bag a couple more hits before he stepped away from it, making his way to the Gatorade and the rag he had set aside. He gulped some of the liquid down, and then wiped his face. “I’m feeling fine,” Leon snapped, and then grimaced. He ran a hand through his hair, and then frowned at it. When he spoke again, his tone was softer. “Sorry. Yeah.” And then, “No.” And then, “It’s nothing. I just needed to work some shit out. I really should just pay for a gym membership. I can get out of your hair now.”
“You know,” she started, peeling herself from the wall to saunter over with this little hop in her step. Catra moved around fluidly, almost bonelessly - like she weighed absolutely nothing, clawed toes click-clacking on the floor until she reached the mat padding. It was a decently-sized room where sparring could comfortably occur. “When I’m asking you questions like that - it’s not for small talk, I actually have this thing where I care. It’s dumb, I know.”
Arms now locked behind her, she circled Leon and the poor punching bag that was on the receiving end of his fists. “And usually when you’re in a mood - what, don’t you go to James to bang it out or something?” Crude, but whatever. They were adults. Nothing wrong with having a healthy sex life with your partner. “Which leads me to believe there’s a little trouble in paradise. How am I doing?”
"Gross, Catra, I'm not discussing my sex life with you," Leon said, recoiling. Except, well, she was kind of right.
"But yeah, fine, you're right. James asked some girl to move in with him and didn't bother asking my opinion about it. It's dumb and I'll get over it. I just thought… I don't know, it's nothing."
Oh. Wait. Catra stopped. She was right. Of course she was right - she was observant, okay. It had really been a hunch though, mixed in with a little desire to be a teaching shit. And she had needled it a bit because she was a concerned friend, so she ought to really see this through and try to help out. Or something.
(This was a lot of responsibility.)
“No, that’s something,” she frowned with pinched brows, trying to figure out where to go from here. Punching things out didn’t seem to work - clearly he was still hung up about this. Her hands went to her hips as they cocked to the side a little. “So - what is it? Is it a jealousy issue? Trust issue? Both?”
Leon frowned, thinking about it. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. It very suddenly felt like all his muscles were made out of lead, and he wondered if he might have maybe overdone it on the punching things, and the running and the everything else. He probably should have just had a few drinks.
“I don’t think he’s going to cheat on me or anything like that. And I’m not jealous of short little Russian blondes that James used to flirt with.” His tone of voice might have suggested otherwise. “Whatever. I’m pissed that he didn’t think to ask me, but it’s not like I live with him, so what-the-fuck-ever.” He found a chair to throw himself into. “It’s his house, he can live with whoever the hell he wants to live with.”
Hm. Okay. Scratch trust issues, then. Jealousy was another story - she knew that mood all too well, lived it most of her time growing up when it came to sharing Adora. Leon might be protesting but the way he sounded when he protested was a dead give away.
And the way he said but it’s not like I live with him...
“So you know he’s not going to cheat,” Catra repeated and went around the punching bag, thinking. It was like she was trying to piece a puzzle together outloud. “And if you trust him, then you trust he’s not going to get flirty with another hot blonde.”
Her leg came up and she gave a good whack at the punching bag with her foot, the thick log of sand swaying at him from the force. “Do you - want to move in with him or something??”
If Leon's face wasn't already red from the exertion, he probably would have blushed. As it was, his face twisted into something embarrassed and a little petulant, like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, except that they were his cookies.
"No," he snapped. "I mean, maybe. I mean, we haven't been seeing each other that long yet, and I don't know if we're there yet. But I thought… I don't know, I thought we were getting there. I thought things were… you know, going okay."
Except if James was inviting other people to live with him, that probably meant Leon had been misreading things. That they were a lot further off from getting there than Leon had assumed. The realization came like a punch in the gut. It wasn't like James needed the extra rent money, and even if he did he still could have asked Leon. No, he'd just wanted to live with someone, and that someone obviously wasn't Leon.
“But you trust him to know that he didn’t invite her to live with him just so he can see some ass,” she countered with a single brow arched high, trying to follow his train of thought. She’s had, uh, experiences with jealousy, and in the past displayed a terrible ability to share the object of her affections. It took some hard lessons to get past that. Feelings didn’t always have logic - they just were, and could be ugly and irrational.
So, yeah. Hard not to recognize this a little.
Catra’s cheeks were puffed up for about two seconds before she blew out a sigh to deflate them. “Okay - look, do you even know why he invited this chick to live with him? Sounds like they know each other and maybe she was down on her luck with the way this place works. That doesn’t mean things between you two aren’t going well. Knowing James,” who reeked like a metaphorical cinnamon roll despite hailing from one of the most despised covens in Vallo, “he was probably doing a nice thing and didn’t talk to you about it because he probably didn’t think you’d take it this way. Which means you should, you know. Talk about how this makes you feel about him.”
“I don’t know, I guess her roommate… you, know,” he waved a hand to signal disappeared, and then, suddenly, felt like a bit of an ass. “Anyway, it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to get other offers,” Leon said, choosing instead to dig in his heels. He crossed his arms over his chest. “And like, Morningside is right fucking there. I still live in Morningside.”
He’d spent most nights at James’ place these days, but all his stuff was still there, and he had the feeling that now that James had an actual roommate instead of a sister who visited frequently, Leon wouldn’t be as welcome. He remembered having friends with people with roommates who’s significant others were always there, and it got old fast.
Well, shit. Catra had to figure out how to word properly. Arguably she was a bit better at advice than Adora, but - only in some things.
“I see why you’re - miffed,” she carefully said, a delicate way of referring to his jealousy. “Except is his space, he can do what he wants with it. How he handles having a roommate with you in the picture is something you two should really, um, talk about? I can guarantee you that punching your feelings out isn’t going to fix this. Don’t go into this thinking it’s some personal attack on your relationship with him. You should know him well enough to realize it’s not.”
Did that make sense? God, she hoped so. She and Adora tried to work on communication a lot, and they could have saved a lot of grief and heartache in the past if they just talked things out like normal people. Too bad they didn’t grow up like normal people though. They were forced to learn the hard way but, hey - at least they learned.
"But I want to punch my feelings out." Even Leon could hear the whine in his voice, and he grimaced. "I know it's not a personal attack, and that he probably wasn't even thinking of 'us' at all when he made the offer." Which kind of stung for a different reason. "It just, I don't know, it feels like it is even if I know it's stupid."
He ran a hand through his hair again. "You're right though. I should talk to him." Every time he and D had tried to talk about things if had devolved into a screaming match, complete with such charming nicknames as Count Freakazoid and Brutish, Idiotic Detective, to name some of the milder ones, but that didn't mean that that was going to happen with him and James. "What if I fuck it up?" he asked, just in case, as if Catra, somehow, might know the answer to that.
Catra’s intention was not to look the slightest bit amused with the way she smirked, or with the way an eyebrow went up into her bangs - but that failed, clearly. Poor Leon. She’d give him a pat on the shoulder if he wasn’t dripping in sweat. “I mean, what’s a relationship without a couple of fuck ups anyway? You’re not perfect, neither is he. This isn’t going to make or break you. It’s a bump. You address the issue, clear the air and you both learn from it. Then you move forward? I mean.” Her shoulders lifted into a shrug. “That’s what works for Adora and I. We have had a lot of experience messing things up with each other.”
Not so much in the recent sense, though there were hiccups every now and again. Hard for those not to happen in any relationship. It wasn’t always sunshine and roses and steamy bed sessions. “Being with someone is seriously some hard work, and there are times where logical thinking and feelings aren’t going to sync up - and talking about things can suck even if you know that’s what you gotta do,” she tacked on. “But that’s where the effort comes in, right?” You want to make it work, then have those sometimes painfully awkward conversations.”
“Guess if he still wanted to date me after I shot him then he probably won’t dump me for talking to him about his roommate,” he said with a half-smile, trying to turn it into a joke and almost succeeding.
He managed, somehow, to climb back to his feet, though apparently his legs had decided, during their brief break, that they were about ready to go on strike. “You’re weirdly good at this, Catra,” he said, his smile shifting into something a little more natural, and then, teasing, added, “You should really become a relationship councillor.”
The pat Catra did give him was actually a punch to the arm, fuck you very much. “Shut up,” she groused. “I’ve got a literal list of screw ups that would put yours to shame - you being butthurt about a blonde that isn’t you is mild in comparison. Now will you stop being dumb and go? I’d hate to have you assume that we’re hanging out and bonding like friends.”
Leon grinned, rubbing his arm where Catra hit him – it didn’t hurt, though it did sting a little. “Alright, alright. No bonding here, Scout’s Honour.” His smile softened a little, and he punched her back, more of a knuckles brushing against her biceps than anything else. “Thanks, Catra. You’re pretty good at this sorta thing.”
“That’s it - get out,” Catra growled and started shoving his stupid, sweaty ass towards the automatic doors of the gym. “Go home, go shower, handle your shit and get out of my face. Hopefully everything goes well so you don’t drag yourself back here to mope. I guess you can text us how it goes afterwards. We only care a little bit, okay?”
Leon laughed, letting himself get shoved out of the gym doors, though not doing much to help the process along. “Couple’s Counsellor Catra. Look, it’s even a whatchamacallit. An alliteration? Pretty sure that’s fate.”
He was close enough to the door now that he could take a couple hurried steps towards the door before Catra decided to punch him again or something, and grinned at her. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“I’m done giving relationship advice for the rest of the year - done,” she kept on grumbling, cheeks colored a rosy little pink. Catra didn’t think she was best suited for anyway considering her, you know, history so she hoped the bullshit she pulled out of her ass and tossed to Leon in the form of ‘advice’ worked out. “Bye.”
And instead of a wave goodbye, she saluted him with her middle finger. That was a lot more fitting.