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[bardische]

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[bardische]

[ The impulse is there, as always, to shake his head and insist he's fine. He resists, because what he does know if this man is that he likes to caretake, and he's happier when Basch accepts it. ]

Yes, thank you.

[ Plus, it will give him something to do with his hands when he inevitably gets self-conscious. Basch joins him on the blanket, close enough to reach but not quite bold enough yet. ]

I...you know if you change your mind, at any time for any reason, you can tell me, no questions asked, yes?

[ Because...that's what he's afraid of. Not that Olivine will regret him. But that he'll feel trapped. ]

[massochism]

[Olivine looks up at Basch when he says that, expression... a little hard to read. sweet still, maybe unsure. he understands enough of the man to know this isn't a suggestion or a request, just...]

... I know that, yes. [and, to alleviate any worry that he's thinking about it, he lets himself lean gently into the other's side.] You're not an obligation, Basch. I'm here because I want to be.

[it's a fact that surprises him a little, honestly. not that he feels that way, but how deeply he does. how much he wants to let this man in, even if he himself doesn't even want to face the blemishes of his own personality and history.]

[bardische]

[ his breath catches as Olivine leans against him, and those words confirm the other’s feelings.

He recomposes himself, and, steeling himself with the knowledge that Olivine wanted this before, he loops his arm around the other, gently pressing his head to the other’s hair ]

I will trust you, then.

[massochism]

[unsurprisingly, it softens Olivine's expression more when that arm loops around him, eyes falling closed at the warmth of his head against his hair.]

And I'll do the same. [his hand curls around that arm then, a soft chuckle on his lips.] I'm glad you're back and safe, truly.

[bardische]

[ His grip tightens, and Olivine can surely feel the way he takes a deep breath to study himself. ]

Thank you.

[ For that. For the hand on his arm and weight on his shoulder. For everything. ]

[massochism]

[fingers tighten and Olivine's breath hitches, his attention turned upward. The thanks feels so unneeded, because he just... he's always seen Basch this way, so isn't it natural? He doesn't say anything about it, though.]

You're welcome... and thank you, too.

[muscles flexing, Olivine turns himself to really look at Basch, examining his face and reaching his free hand upward, to brush his fingers over coarse facial hair. It's only now that he really realises how worried he was the other wouldn't come back.]

I know I promised to explain about myself... do you mind waiting until after we eat? I... for now, I just want to spend some time with you.

As long as you still want to, that is.

[He doesn't think otherwise, but the offer feels almost routine to give. As if they hadn't been utterly intimate not days ago, as if they weren't practically trying to melt into each other with each hold.]

[bardische]

[ For a moment Basch's grip slackens, thinking he's made Olivine uncomfortable, but that look corrects his read, and he redoubles his hold. Only years of restraint keep him from slinging the other's legs up over his own. They may have been intimate, but he was half-transformed, and somehow, it still feels more off-limits to touch without sex.

But then Olivine's touching his face, and his eyes close of their own accord. His hand comes to enfold Olivine's, reveling in how much more clearly he can feel the skin. ]

Of course. When you're ready. [ He tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to Olivine's hairline. ] I want to be here. Very much.

[massochism]

[Really, the only reason he hasn't already pressed himself into Basch's lap is the fact that he does have to keep something of an eye on the food. It's unlikely to boil over, but caution is still ideal.

Ah, but Basch's hand feels so nice over his own. Like this it's easier to tell just how warm Olivine runs—not alarming, but notable.]

Then... after we eat. I'll try. [He'll never be "ready," he's sure. Not really. Then he chuckles, closing his eyes at the kid to his hair (God, he wishes it were his lips) and pressing into his side more.] and if you have any questions, it might help me find a good place to start. Or continue.

... it makes me very happy to hear that. I'm... very glad I'm not alone anymore.

[It slips from his lips before he can really think about it, and he doesn't even notice it at first.]

[bardische]

[ He does notice the heat this time, much more easily without his fur or warmer wolf blood. He's glad he already knows it doesn't mean sickness, or he would worry.

As it is, he nods against Olivine's hair. Really, he'd do near anything this man asked. That should scare him, but he doesn't think Olivine will abuse that. ]

I can do that for you.

[ And then he's intaking sharply again, and this time he doesn't resist the urge to reach for Olivine, both arms wrapping around him and encouraging him closer, like he can shield him from whatever led to this sadness. ]

So long as you want me to, I will always come back. [ Because he can't promise always being here, not with how dangerous he is, and he hates it. But he can give as much as is safe. ]

[massochism]

[a little noise escapes him, as it so often does, but he's quick to lean into that hold and nestle in close, warming his whole soul with the contact. this really is just... perfect, somehow. it feels like it should be, even.]

... then I will believe in that. [it's a fragile little admission, a reminder that he will. Olivine always wants him to come back, that much he's sure of. after that declaration, he falls quiet, just basking in this closeness, until he finally exhales a sigh and nuzzles his face into Basch's jaw.] I should get up to stir the stew and add the rest of the vegetables. It should be done soon.

[bardische]

[ Basch almost regrets agreeing to food, because he doesn't want to let Olivine go, not with how fragile the other seems. He's so stoic, in his own way, but the minute Basch holds him, he melts. ]

I'm not going anywhere [ he murmurs, as much to himself as to Olivine. This time he pulls back enough to tip Olivine's face up so his kiss lands on the other's lips. It's a little shy, but firm, not demanding, but as solid as his hold. ]

[massochism]

Of course—

[he lets himself be stopped by the tip of his head, the press of lips against his own. it's only been a few days, but it settles something in him in ways he can't explain. just that shy, firm little motion, and he can lean up into it in turn, cradling Basch's cheek for just a moment.]

... Mm. I missed that, too.

[shy and sweet. reluctantly (more because he just wants to attach himself to Basch than any worry or loneliness in the moment) he lifts himself up, touch lingering as long as he can manage before he's moving to put together the rest of the food. another five or ten minutes, he thinks, and then they can eat.]

[bardische]

[ Basch isn't sure how someone can miss something they've barely had a taste of, but he feels it too. And there's no denying Olivine's interest, not in the way he holds Basch's face, or in the way his touch lingers.

Basch wants to offer to help, but he's not sure he wouldn't just slow things down.

What he does offer is an easy question. ]

Where did you learn to cook?

[massochism]

Ah—from... books, mostly. [He looks quite sheepish, saying it.] with stew, I also learned how to make it for large groups back at the church.

I like to help out when we do large food drives for the community, giving back some of the kindness we've been shown.

[There's such earnest warmth then, speaking of the work. Olivine may struggle with the insistent generosity, but he clearly loves what he does. It's a complicated thing, overall. Plus... well, there's a lot to be said.]

... I remember I felt so warm the first time someone ate my cooking and enjoyed it. It was nothing extravagant, just something like this, but they were so appreciative... [brows furrow briefly as he stirs the pot, then rises to rejoin Basch for the moment.] There are still a lot of cooking styles I'd love to try, though. I've read about so many cultures, and I want to understand them all.

[bardische]

Helping people and making them feel safe is extremely rewarding [ Basch agrees quietly. Before he'd been promoted and his work kept him within the confines of the higher ranking, he'd enjoyed being on relief teams. ]

My country was invaded when I was young. I remember what a difference the people who provided aid made. And food is a wonderful way to share culture.

[ It's one of the few ways he's kept his home with him. ]

If you'd like to travel, you should. [ And Basch would follow him, if he wanted it. He was serious about being a Guard, and not leaving unless Olivine changed his mind. But again, it feels forward to say it. Here is one thing. Anywhere is another. ]

[massochism]

It is. [for a moment, he's quiet, taking in that information. invasions are rare here, and more often they'd occur on the other borders than out here near the waters. regardless, the idea of Basch going through that...] I'm sorry. That sounds terrible... though I'm glad there were people who provided aid in that circumstance, too.

[he can't keep himself away while they talk, drawing back over to take the blond's hands and settle in his lap. there's no rush now, at least.]

It... isn't quite so simple as that, truthfully. My duties as a priest are important, and I will need to return home eventually. [getting work like this that took him outside of the city... well, it's neither too unusual nor too common really.] Ah, but I'd like to try some of your food from your home sometime, as well. Perhaps when I return home, we can find whatever you might need at the markets.

[it's probably no surprise that he expects Basch to stay with him now. they'd promised, and as frightened as the priest is about failing that promise somehow, he's taking it on its face. the idea that the other is basically agreeing to go anywhere with him is warm and comforting too, but he's almost afraid to mention it.]

[bardische]

It was a long time ago. [ Not dismissive, just a fact. ] I tried to be that for others when I was able. [ Past tense. It's felt like a thing he couldn't be anymore, with the curse but...maybe with Olivine, he can. Or at least help the work Olivine does here. He's changed homes once. Doing it again isn't so terrible. It's much better than roaming alone until he dies, which he'd made peace with.

But then Olivine is settling into his lap, and all his thoughts are gone for a moment. It's instinctual to settle around the other, some part of him calming, like things are back where they should be. He shouldn't be this attached, but his nerves are far off, and echo he doesn't want to listen to. ]

Travel usually means returning home [ he points out. But it does occur to him the city will be more challenging with his affliction. Still. If Olivine is willing, Basch will leave and return, every month.

It seems absurd, to think he'll have more than a few cycles of this. And he knows it will be that much worse if he loses it. But -- he has never been strong enough to turn away. ]

I will gladly show you. Certainly from Rabanastre, and Landis if we can find the ingredients. The climate here is more similar. I haven't had a chance to make any of my mother's dishes in a long time.

[massochism]

Even so. [quiet, understanding. even if it's an old fact, that doesn't necessarily mean the pain isn't worth feeling compassion over. especially when Basch says that, follows it up with the idea that he was able, but he isn't now. that... he'll just have to depose that idea slowly, he supposes.

if he can feel comfortable enough to almost be willing to be himself, he just hopes it's similar for the blond.]

Well, yes, but that isn't really what I meant—normally, my duties as a priest keep me at the church, or at least in the city. [he huffs a laugh at that, head shaking lightly. by now, he knows that the other doesn't mean anything by it really.

as to dealing with this, yes, he's more than happy to work with him no matter the effort. honestly it doesn't seem like that much of an effort to him anyway.]

Rabanastre and Landis... [thoughtful, he nods, smiling up at Basch as he does.] I'm excited to try them. I'm sure it will be a wonderful experience.

[bardische]

[ This is a conversation he has had before, though not for some time. What is there to say? That the wounds healed best they could, that Landis was reabsorbed by a grasping military power, so even if he goes back, it will not be the same? That he found real solace in protecting his adoptive country from the same fate?

It doesn't matter because he can't go any of those places with what he is -- an immigrant, a high-ranking former member of a foreign military, a confidant of a ruler and the brother to a competing land's chief adviser, and now a werewolf. ]

Even so. [ He agrees, brushing Olivine's hair aside. The kindness, at least, he appreciates, even if he isn't sure what to do with it.

To Olivine's answer, his brow furrows slightly, even if he's rooted by Olivine's weight against his. ] Are you not allowed to leave? If it's a safety concern for your rank, I can see to that. [ He suspects it's more political than that. Ranked royalty were the same, powerful but often tethered to limited locales.

Though it does occur to him, that means they met when they were both far afield. A chance, and a rare one for both of them. That feels...important.

Olivine's smile pulls one from him, heavier thoughts subsiding so easily. ] I will make them for you, then.

[massochism]

[oh. his hair shifts and Olivine finds his cheeks warmer for it. at this point, he isn't even sure why, just that he is.]

No, it's not that, exactly. It's more... there are so many things to do that I find I often just don't have time. Though I suppose, if you don't mind helping me from time to time, we could probably make more time.

[funny enough, it's not really political at all. just... he helps a lot of people. that will be more clear when they're in the city, probably.

his thoughts are just on the context of food now though, nodding lightly.]

I'll hold you to that. And... perhaps I can make some of the delicacies I've learned about for you in turn. We don't really have any family recipes, as most of my knowledge is quite similar to the church's own. Mm, speaking of—the stew should be ready anytime. If it cooks too long, the vegetables will get very soft, but otherwise there's no real rush.

[bardische]

[ Basch's gaze softens, protectiveness giving way to empathy. He understands not stepping away because there's always more work to do. Was often the recipient of well-meaning chiding to take a break, or better yet, a vacation. ]

However much you'd like me to help, I will. I miss being able to serve a community. [ It was more than that, though. If it mattered to Olivine, he wanted to help, and if it was the only way Olivine would rest, well, he saw that as part of his duty to protect. ]

I'd like that [ he agrees to the offer of cooking, even if he thinks delicacies are likely wasted on him. He understands it's the gesture, and having an audience. ] We can talk while we eat. [ Something to occupy both of their hands, though after, he can now admit he'd like to lay against Olivine and hold him again, maybe this time let sleep claim them both. ]

[massochism]

I'm quite sure they'll like you, when we get there. And if I can give you that much... then that would make me happy, too.

[he won't know if the delicacies are wasted on him til he has them, of course!! Olivine is determined to do as much for Basch as the man is doing for him, in the end. he's... also probably going to make the man force him to take breaks sooner than later. oops.]

Of course. [pushing himself up to his feet, he pauses to press a kiss to the taller man's cheek before scurrying off to serve them both a bowl. alas, he has to sit next to Basch instead of in his lap now, but at least he can still lean on him. it's good enough until they're done eating.]

[bardische]

[ That others outside of Olivine would like him...had not occurred to him, nor was he sure he believed it, but if it mattered to Olivine, he would do his best.

he's reluctant to let the man go, but again his lingering touch tells Basch it's mutual.

He's more surprised at how quickly Olivine is back at his side, keeping all contact that remains practical. It makes his chest catch again. A cruel voice whispers it is because he was the young man's first, nothing more, but for once he hardly believes that. This is...deeper than a sexual encounter. That he's sure of. ]

Tell me about this dish [ he says as they begin eating. It's good. hardy, good texture. And he was right. His stomach is glad for the plant-based food as it settles back into being human. ]

[massochism]

This one? Well, it's nothing special really.

[Olivine chuckles between bites, still half-watching Basch as he does the same. there's an endless fondness, something he's sure he won't ever get over really.]

It's sort of a survival recipe we were taught in the academy. Keeping things like salt and spices is easy, but this uses a variety of local vegetables to fill it out, so you can forage enough for a meal almost anywhere. You do still have to be careful in certain territories to ensure there isn't too much essence in them, though—ah. I guess I should really explain how essence works so that makes sense... but if a food is contaminated, it can have a number of effects, from physical and mental changes to sickness.

[bardische]

[ it’s easier to process the affection like this: he’s whole. Useful. Human. He’s still not sure how he managed to catch Olivine’s attention so thoroughly, but it makes more sense than when he’s a monster. ]

Mmm so it’s just the ingredients that are unfamiliar. We have a similar field soup. Or maybe I’m just used to training recruits who cook it to mush. [ It’s said fondly though, like he enjoys training the younger soldiers.

His expression changes as the topic turns to essence, though. ]

I suppose I’m lucky then, to not have run afoul of it here. It’s not something I’m familiar with, and we don’t station anyone in this territory.