tushanshu_logs | It's Christmas!

[In answer to the unspoken question, Kyle, out loud, but quietly, so that only Jim can hear, says:] I'm not holding back.

[He's not wearing the ring and he's sure Jim's noticed; without it, there's a lot less pressure to concentrate, or focus, or restrain himself. He's not about to open up all his emotions and let them run loose through the metaphorical telepathic field like some rookie, and it's not the complete no-holds-barred that he'll need, someday, but right now it's enough.]

[He taps Jim's mind, in curiosity, but more so he can recognise which one of the sensations is coming from Kyle, and which from the others. At present it's a distant, gentle breeze, barely touching Jim at all, but very much there. He tugs Jim's sleeve then lets go, sits down near the turtle.]

You can have mine if you want.

[In contrast to Jim's caution, Kyle's mind, to Damian, is open, the affection there fiercer but not overwhelming: they have the turtle to intensify that and Kyle doesn't intend to overload the kid the first time he's experiencing something like this. Yet, firmly, he asks, When was the last time you slept?]

[ Damian is way past overwhelmed, actually. The connection that most people feel - the carers are in for more, and just about all the time. But it's barely been a day, by now; he can manage, he thinks. And he's keeping anger and spite as firmly locked away as he can, as well as pain. Where the latter doesn't quite work as well, so he's getting extra love, making the overwhelming even worse. He'll deal with it. ]

[ But, for now, he looks up at Jim and nods. ]

It was not by plan, but I am not in need of anything, thank you.

[ Calmer, even friendlier than he would usually sound. Even around Kyle. But the warmth isn't fake, even if it feels awkward - it's just. Not something he's done much, before. ]

[ But he kind of flinches at the question, and for a moment there is the mental image of packing up the last of the presents. It's not too bad, then - two days ago maybe? But it's not something he'll get any ~~approval~~ praise for. ]

[ His reaction results in curiosity/confusion from the hatchling, and he sighs. ]

I will try to get rest when Persson takes over. She is - responsible.

[ 'Unlike Stark' is something he doesn't even think - it just goes without saying. ]

[Wow, hold up. They can actually hold telepathic conversations. This is so cool, and there's a bit of excitement and jubilation about something new being right in front of him for the taking. He dumps a bunch of warmth and love in Kyle's general direction the way someone might dump a blanket on someone complaining of cold, keeps his reaction to Damian pleasantly friendly (he doesn't know if he'd appreciate being privy to how Jim feels about Kyle) and then he tries the mental avenue,

Una, right? Yeah, she's great.]

[Wow Jim excuse you!! Kyle shifts adjusting to the sudden sensation, and elbows him mentally, but returns the emotion far more carefully, uncertain how much Damian or Taraja can sense. He's more sensitive to Damian's emotions right now anyway: he's trained Jim in enough mental warding that he's.. actually not worried. Jim's learnt a lot about restraint.]

You do that.

[The turtle prods him, reminding them all that it's hungry, and adds a few juicy details about the kid's schedule. Kyle pets it, quietly says nobody likes a tattler, but he has the good sense to look appropriately annoyed at Damian, even if he's glad this is... opening him up. Seeing Damian without the outward hedgehogness is just weird.]

— maybe sooner rather than later, she's hungry. You know what she eats, right?

[ He'd so be giving a miffed glare right now - if he wasn't making sure he's not scarring the hatchling. As it is, he gives a sigh, and shakes his head at both of them. It's less that Damian can sense the interaction between Jim and Kyle, mentally, but Taraja is amused at their interplay, which tells him there is some, and. Well. Better not focus on it. Instead, he mentally pictures Una, yes, and offers that up among all of them. It results in a fresh wave of excitement and love from the baby, and a question, when. ]

[ Damian smiles a little. Soon. ]

[ And, to Kyle's question. ]

She will eat almost anything that seems like a possibility. But, knowing what Asti does eat, I usually get her greens. If you will watch her for two minutes, I shall do so presently?

[ Small nod to the nearby veggies shop. He's really still going to keep an eye out, but he knows Taraja can move pretty fast, when she wants to, so he'll be a tad less worried with other people keeping an eye. ]

Done deal.

[Jim spares a fond look after Damian as he heads to gather greens, and then he drapes himself over the side of the turtle. He has to stand on the tips of his toes to do it properly, and he pats his hands against its shell. It's weird - a little humbling, almost - to be present for this whole thing happening. Like being the first person to set foot on a planet.

Quietly, to Kyle, he's a good kid, huh.]

[It's funny, and kind of weird, Kyle thinks, to know someone that well that you can understand what kind of look or emotion they're feeling towards you when they don't even know it themselves. He can't help the way he is around Jim - so he simply muted that, for Damian's benefit.]

[He's babysat the turtle before, and thus, when requested to again, nods. She was still in her egg, then, and he conveys his agreement and excitement at watching her - even if it's just for two minutes - putting himself as close to her as he physically can, in a different place from where Jim is, but maintaining eye contact with him.]

[Taraja is warm. Kyle barely feels the cold as his mind rests against hers, she conveys love and he returns it with protection. They're the only hope for this world and hope - choosing it is so difficult and easy at the same time.]

[To Jim: One of the best. And then, he tilts his head, questioningly. He finds purchase on the mental plane and anchors himself. Hey, can you feel this? and sends a short stream of unrestrained affection, a powerful wave.]

[Jim reaches, touches the inside of Kyle's wrist in a motion that is perfectly accidental and more the product of a languid stretch across the turtle's shell than anything that could have possibly been planned for.

That said, it's not acting that he twitches away from him the second that affection smacks him in the brainpan, it's overwhelming in all the best and worst ways, like drowning, like freefall, and Jim actually has to remind himself to breathe.

Yeah, he manages, and he hopes his mental voice isn't as shaky as he knows his real one would be. Kyle's not wearing the ring, but Jim half-wishes he were just for the brief respite of momentary invisibility he could request.]

[Kyle smiles at him, playful. In the Dream plane they weren't connected this closely: there were images and less emotion, the force of a mind far less close. What Taraja's hosting is something Kyle's much more familiar with and the joy of it is something he never realised he even missed.]

[Want the whole thing? he prods, gently. Jim's not used to it. Hell, Jim's not used to unconditional affection period: even these days when alone together Jim sometimes gives him an affectionate but bewildered look, like a deer caught in the headlights.]

[Jim cocks his head to one side, listening for something just outside the frequency of human hearing, and then he nods once. No words.]

[He reaches out, to rub the inside of Jim's wrist with his hand, asking permission. There's moments when they're outside that he wants to grab him in the centre of a square and kiss him until his knees go weak, and while he's sure Jim wouldn't say no to that, he always stops, to think.]

[It's funny how that's become his default around Jim; one of them has to be what the other is not, to form the complete whole, even if some doors are shut, or others locked away in the darkest, dankest parts of their souls that nothing can touch.]

[He knocks. The sensation more than the sound echoes, and everything goes silent on the mental plane. Taraja senses Kyle's intent, and goes quiet.]

[For a few seconds, nothing happens.]

[The first tongue of flame is small, tentative. It flicks at Jim's toes, warming them, crawling on his skin like a blanket and moving slowly past. A breath of cool, dry wind follows it.]

[Then, Jim's surrounded by fire.]

[Vibrant, unyielding, it buries him in warmth; the realm shifts and becomes dizzying before it narrows, intensely intimate, littered with infinite stars glittering; a tenuous balance of light and shadow. The world shakes with an unknown, powerful force, draws Jim in and carves pure, fierce love into his mind, brands every secret endearment and calm, protective care into his skin, deeper than any tattoo, pours into his lungs and makes him breathe it all in, everywhere, everything, every beginning, every ending, all comes together and squeezes itself into Jim's frame; and for several moments nothing else exists but that vast, vast ocean.]

[The world goes still again, and quiet. The flames are the edge of his vision, the wind tickles Jim's cheeks, in play.]

[Hi, says Kyle eventually, and it's shy. Did you know I love you?]

[It's hot and cold and bruising, bright as a balm, and Jim thinks about poetry, the one by Frost about Fire or Ice. This isn't the end of the world - his or any other - but it feels like it a little, it's like watching the birth of a star or the death of a planet.

Jim holds his breath, at the sensation of that creeping flame, and then everything around him erupts with it, a conflagration that razes everything in its path and leaves nothing but a fierce and gentle heat in its wake.

Despite the burn, Jim thinks about oceans, impossible unknowable depths that mirror the black of the farthest reaches of space and also the glimmer of its distant stars. And he touches them, gathers them up like sand and they fall through his fingers each their own ocean swell. It's overwhelming, but he doesn't drown. It's intense, but he doesn't flinch. Everything aches, but it recedes like a tide, and he's left standing on the shore of this great gift.

The words that follow echo, and Jim... doesn't have a response for him, mentally or otherwise. Instead he just grabs Kyle up, shoves him back against the turtle's shell and kisses him breathless. He doesn't have to spell it out, Kyle knows this language best, and everything he does is saying, guess what? Me too.]

[He laughs, and it echoes everywhere, returning the affection in full, as Taraja moves to obscure them from general view. Kyle's fingers curl inwards where they are, on Jim, partially clinging to him, and for a moment the warmth is fire again, in their veins, throbbing like a pulse, everywhere.]

[Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth, and danced the sky on laughter-silvered wings...]

[Jim grins, bites at his neck.]

Sap.

[But he completes the poem, in the way his touch whispers against Kyle's wrists and the knee he slides between his thighs.]

Graduated to nerd last week, remember?

[He squeezes Jim's hand and then pushes him away gently, having had his fill of public affection, and Damian will be back any second.]

[He allows the separation without comment, though he does grin, just a little, and pat the turtle's shell in affectionate gratitude.]

Sappy nerd, maybe. Just maybe.

Jerk.

[He's all affection and pride as he leans against Taraja, still a grinning a little lopsidedly from Jim's kiss.]

It's Christmas!

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