(no subject)

[amicably_absent]

It was something Ambrose had been putting off doing.

In the privacy of his rooms, he took off his coat and hung it up, slipping off his shoes and tucking them under the bed. His socks went next, into the laundry chute, then his shirt (off over the head), and his striped undershirt, which was tossed down as well. He dumped his pants down there as well, mildly disgruntled at Glitch's refusal to bother with underwear.

He cracked the curtains to let a streak of setting sunlight through. He walked forwards, tugging the cloth from the mirror.

It was not as bad as he feared.

It was not as good as he had hoped.

Some of the scars were vaguely familiar. One on his arm from a sword fight, maybe. On his hand from a design that went wrong. Others though...

He turned, looking at himself. He was even paler than he had been, arms and legs thinner, but there was wiry muscle. It seemed to be the fat had gone first, then the muscles. Little relief, but it was something.

It was still a sight he didn't like. The wild curls softened his face and just seemed messy. The zipper was an ugly scar he couldn't remember; his fingers touched it softly, barely able to look in the mirror and completely unable to look away as he saw his fingers touch metal as he feels the coolness, the rough texture catching his skin even as he felt soft tugs on his scalp as it happened.

He drew his hands away sharply, looking down to his body again. Small shifts changed the light casting over him, brought other marks into sharp relief. A star burst in his shoulder and in his lower back, bones jutting against pale skin, ghost like and alien body not his own very much his.

He closed his eyes and reached for the cloth on the ground, ending up standing there with his head bowed, cloth clutched to his chest as he was torn between throwing it over the glass and wrapping it about himself.

At least the sunlight on his skin felt the same.

Comments

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He looks up, train of thought interrupted, and smiles. "Hey, Sweetheart. Not too long ago. I got to spend some time with Ambrose while you were away."

He sets his now empty plate on the table, along with the cup and gestures for Glitch to come on over.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch sheds the robe as he moves, scrambling into Wyatt's lap and settling in. "Wyatt... why was I naked except for that robe?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

It's a flaily sort of scramble Wyatt has come to love, and one he gladly gets under control with his arms snugly wrapped around his lover.

"He was in the bathroom, wanted to see himself as he is now. I thought it was you, at first. He didn't hear me come in." He presses his lips to the edge of the zipper.

"Then I gave him the robe and asked if he'd like some coffee and cobbler."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Ohhh..." He snuggles into the kiss. "I think Ambrose always felt funny about his body. I'm not sure. I remember feeling weird about it. It was why I liked lots of layers."

Switching pronouns again. "Did you have a nice time?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"You have a beautiful body, Glitch. Even more so now that you're filling out a bit." He nods, running his hand down his lover's thigh.

"I had a good time. We had coffee and cobbler, talked a bit. It was nice." He pauses for a tiny huff of a sigh. "I think we're starting to warm up to each other. Being less formal, and all."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I do?" He leans back to look down on himself. "Maybe I'm biased, but I like your naked body more..." He grins.

"That's good! I don't like the idea of any of me being formal with you."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Good. Narcissism is such an ugly trait. We used to be very formal around each other. It was...awkward, I guess you could say."

He really likes their last conversation better that the ones before it, the very obvious lack of tension between them. He wouldn't want to spend who knows how many years, half with the man he loves, and half with a stranger.

If they become friends...good friends, maybe it will be easier for everyone involved.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch giggles and cuddles again. "Yeah, it is, really." He shifts in Wyatt's lap. "I'm glad you're getting on. Sometimes, I have... fuzzy awareness of him. Like he's me. But not. It's weird. But not this time."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Good." He glances at the pot of coffee, decides against having another cup when he'd much rather spend some quality time with Glitch.

He's better than coffee any day. "...you know you're still a handsome man, don't you? I don't care about the scars, or the zipper, not like that."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Of course I do," Glitch beams. "Oh Wyatt.... Don't let him get to you. My scars are just marks. Like yours. And I'm not ashamed of the zip. I did nothing wrong."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I just thought-- He's part of you, Glitch. Maybe you need to hear it every now and then, that you're more than good enough for me. That you're...beautiful, and that more often than not, I think the zipper...is..."

Trailing off, suddenly not at all wanting to say it out loud, because it's such a silly thing to say. "I think it's pretty."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch's face softens as he listens. Maybe, part of him does need to hear. Not part of him he's aware of, but he's also never thought about how he looks that hard while he was wandering.

Then he smiles, heart melting. "Oh, Wyatt..." He cups his lover's face with his hands and kisses him soft and slow. "That's another sweetest ever thing, right there."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He smiles, blushing for the second or third time of the night, and silently berates himself for it. "Sometimes it looks like someone's woven silver into your hair, and... I don't know." He shrugs.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch smiles sweetly. "If we ever go out, we should polish the zipper up then."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"We should. I'll be extra careful, too, make sure none of the polish get in your hair." On a whim, he runs both hands through that hair, delighted with the silky feel of it. Someone's been running a brush through it more often than not. He suspects Ambrose is the one to thank for it.

"I sent a message to the sheriff's department today. When I get a proper job, we should meet for lunch in town every day."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch tips his head into the touch, eyes closing and humming softly at the way he's handled.

And yes, the brushing is Ambrose. Or, more often then not, neither of them, but DG checking on him.

"We should. It'd be nice. We can go out and find quaint cafes and local cherished specialties."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Watch people passing by out in the street, play an innocent game of footsie under the table... I think we'd both be miserable if we didn't get to see each other all day."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"It sounds lovely." He snuggles in more. "Wyatt... are you staying the night?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Of course I am!" He grins. "Unless you want to have some more alone time." Which he definitely doesn't think is the case.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"No, not at all." He rubs his hands on Wyatt's chest. "Want to crawl into bed and do some reading?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Is that some sort of euphemism, Sir? Because if it is, I don't know what kinda guy you take me for."

And yet, he's already moving, careful about setting Glitch down on the floor.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"It's a euphemism for get stripped and into bed and we can go through your letters." He slides back to stand on his own feet, bouncing onto the bed and kicking the blankets down to slide his feet under them.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"All right." He licks his lips, teeth following to drag softly over his bottom lip as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"I hope you got all of them."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I bet I did!" He flops back, stretching on the bed, feet under the sheets but nothing else that far under.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He strips down to his shorts and nothing else in little to no time, then crawls into the bed and stretches out, snugly pressed up against his lover's side.

"Give 'em to me, I'll read them out loud for you."