[ there's willingly submitting yourself to something you're scared of, and then there's willingly submitting yourself to something you've had horrific nightmares of since adolescene. for the record, being tethered and having the life force sucked out of you is absolutely as bad as it seems, and worse. and severing said tether feels a lot like having his spine ripped out on a spiritual scale, so that's nice too.
but elliot is alive, and well, and entirely himself, currently nestled snugly to max's side. and max, while perhaps not entirely well at the moment, is on his way through recovery, and going to be fine. somewhere around the massive house elliot owns in london (don't think we're not going to have a talk about this, btw), paya's puttering around, mixing herbs and brewing tonics, muttering old spells the world forgot centuries ago. worth it. everyone's safe and well and happy, and max would be easily do it again, if he had to.
for the time being, he is worn as fuck. he's never felt this sick in his life, rapidly swapping from feverish to bone deep chills as his magic ebbs back to him, body feeling achy and sore all over, like he'd been pulled inside out and stuffed back together. he's at least not delirious anymore. the first couple days he'd sort of lost to being out of it, and largely passed out for most of it. waking hours, between fever and the medicinal tonics paya'd been feeding him, had been a weird mix of asking the same questions over and over again every ten minutes ('is elliot ok' 'did the spirit go away' 'did someone call dani' 'where are my pants') to strange babbling and occasionally oversharing. but that's magic-morphine for you.
now, about three or four days after the fact, he's lucid, fully conscious, and mostly aware of the nonsense that comes out of his mouth. he's also incredibly clingy, now that he's had time for it all to sink in. it worked, everyone's safe, elliot's here and max has had him curled up half on his chest and half flush to his side for an hour or so. ]
I want to nap for centuries. [ he murmurs, voice rough and low, with lips pressed to elliot's hair. ] I want to hibernate.
[ Everything had happened seemingly so fast when Max became involved again, when Elliot realised there was something still very wrong with him, something wrong that none of the witch doctors could (or perhaps would) help him with, it lead him to Max's friends and ultimately Max.
He'd gone through seemingly hell for him, and Elliot could only assume how terrible it was with how sick he's been. Guilty. Is a great word for what he feels. He owes Paya and Max his life, and there's nothing that could ever change that, no matter how much he tries to repay them, he knows this. He gave the woman free reign of his estate, called the staff in and told them to give her whatever she needs.
He ends up at Max's side about as sleepy, still trying to recover from an ancient river spirit deciding to use him as a taxi cab. Of course, he isn't as sick as his friend, just tired. Nothing about the experience has been pleasant except for perhaps this...
At some point he's managed to nest far too many plush pillows and blankets around them.
The lazy words cause Elliot to grin half against Max. He lets out a small hum in response at first, acknowledgement. ] Okay, as long as I'm allowed to too.
[ His hand slides over Max's chest, before he pats at it gently as if to say me 2 buddy me 2. ] But you might start to smell and I don't want something smelly in my room, let alone on my bed. [ Ah, there's the Elliot we know and love. ]
[ every time max had woken up in the past three days, he'd noticed that the pillow trench around him had grown taller. by the time he was present enough to think on it, the pillow nest had already grown more sizeable than could be protested. not that he particularly minds it - dani had maybe instilled an favor for nests of soft things in him by now.
besides, after the last week-ish they'd gone through, max is more than happy to sit in a pile of soft things, with a slender, smarmy little thief curled up to him, and soak in the few days paya will be cutting him some slack for being lazy, and elliot won't be stealing his shit.
being a shit, however, seems to be out of the picture. max snorts, corners of his lips quirking in a small smile, and a hand runs fingers over elliot's forearm idly, as he pats his chest. ] What'll you care? You'll be asleep.
[ under the thick layers of blankets shoveled on top of them, max's feet kick at elliot's playfully, knees bumping some. he's totally bare under the sheets, because that's just how he sleeps, and it's nothing anyone hasn't seen besides. even paya's been unfortunate witness to his streaking adventures on occasion. ]
Fine. We wake intermittently for bubblebaths. [ the fingertips tracing along his friend's arm venture higher, over a shoulder, up his neck, and max brushes some of elliot's hair back, tilting his head some to look at him. ] And there'd better be rubber duckies, or I'm sending the manservants out.
[ and now he's just making fun of him and his fancy palace-house. ]
I've got a sensitive nose, I won't be able to get any kip with you stinking up the place. [ His eyes fall closed as he lets his hand still and rest against his strange German friend's chest. The pillow nest is a must, how else is Max supposed to get better? That's how Elliot knows to solve problems, ignore them until they go away and nesting.
He doesn't seem to pay any mind to the goosebumps that come to life over his skin with Max's fingertips. Instead, he seems more interested in tangling his legs up with Max's. The only reason he has boxers on are the trips he's made to the kitchen to ask or procure the occasional bite to eat or glass of water. Water. He can drink water again without it looking like blood or something far more putrid. Max would even notice on the nightstand next to his side there was a glass for him in case he needed it. ] So intermittent bubble-baths are a must.
[ When he feels those fingers make a new path over his skin he melts even more against Max. Dark eyes open again to watch Max. It's as if Elliot can't keep his hands to himself, because his hand slides up, so he can thumb over Max's jaw. ] There's 132 rubber ducks in this house, I got them as a prank when I was younger. [ The words are said matter-of-factly before he turns down and - oh, he's supposed to be nice, but those sure are teeth nipping into Max's skin as if to protest the mockery.
He's sure there are a thousand questions pertaining to this place alone, probably the main one being why don't you stay here instead. Or maybe, why do you steal from people like me? But Elliot doesn't exactly see this as his life, his parents have always been distant because of their jobs, which he understands and he's never really wanted to be some posh little brat. The world has enough of them. ] But if you need anything don't hesitate to ask.
Sensitive, oh, I'm sure, after all that whining you do anytime I take you on a job. [ old places smell bad, most of the time. they just do. sad fact of life. elliot's hand is a welcome weight against his chest, with the soothing the warmth of his palm and his fingers splayed over his skin. for a moment, max's eyes slip closed again, humming softly at nothing in particular, just a low, rumbled sound of contentment.
his lips pull wider, small sated smile stretching to a grin as he imagines a younger elliot sneaking around this massive house, playing pranks and getting into trouble. shuffling 132 rubber ducks into the various bathrooms of this mansion of a home. he wonders, though, how much elliot considers it a home. he never talks about his family here, doesn't seem to visit often, and there's a cold kind of feeling to it all. max has yet to see a trace of elliot's parents, or anyone, outside of the house staff. huh. ]
132, exactly? [ he muses, as he turns his face into the fingers touching along his jaw, always such a glutton for contact and sensation. his lips find the pad of elliot's thumb at some point, parting so that he can nip at his fingertip with teeth, playful. ] Any special reason for the number, or was that just all Bed Bath & Beyond had in stock?
[ and that soft nip turns more into a bite when he feels elliot's teeth against his shoulder. rude. but not actually, considering it sends a little spike of warmth flushing over his skin, already sensitive just by the wear of the last several days, but now, at least, pleasantly so. max chases it, ankle hooking around the back of the leg elliot's tangled with his, and dragging himself up to push the other boy's back to the mattress, max slipping a knee between his thighs. not the easiest of movements, considering the achiness all over, but worth it to settle himself comfortably half-blanketing him. ] Anything? Absolutely anything? You want the list now or later?
[ Bacteria is a gross part of life, Elliot is well aware. After all, he deals with dead things far too often. Though, oddly enough, that's a scent he's learned to 'tune out.' It's just all the other ones that annoy the hell out of him. After forcing life into corpses, you start to lose the general scent of decaying rot and just get used to it, otherwise you'll suffer from constant stomach upset.
This house isn't a home, not really. Maybe if his brother was still alive there could be a possibility for that, but after his passing any semblance of happiness in this place went down the drain. ] It's all we could fit with us on our bikes. [ Something akin to a smile finds its way onto his face for a brief moment, but it's gone as quickly as it appears. He can remember they stuffed as many as they could in their backpacks and rode their bikes home. The staff had to have known they were up to something when they'd went straight for the master bathroom backpacks bulging.
He tugs his hand away reflexively, frowning at Max, but then his heater is moving and the pillow nest is being shifted and it's a German sized earthquake. With every movement Max makes, Elliot tries to hover his hands by his shoulders, allowing himself to be pliable whilst trying to offer any support Max might need. He winds up with his back against the bed, a turn of events he doesn't particularly mind, and then that knee. ] I'll take the list whenever, [ He pauses and shifts slightly, it's taking a lot of self restraint not to chase after his lips, not to touch him. ] but are you sure you should be moving about? [ Oh, look, concern, it's an actual thing he's capable of.
He's certainly not going to try using any magic anytime soon, so he can only assume what Max feels like. Sure, they'd been in a similar situation, but Elliot had an ancient river spirit draining him like a Duracell when it got angry, which to be fair was like 90% of the time, it wasn't for some super strong juju, it was just to punish him, he assumed. He's still not completely sure, it sure as hell felt like the thing was prepared to kill him when Paya was trying to tear it out of him. Which had been an awful experience, one he'd never want to repeat ever again if at all possible. Even with the concern, Elliot's hand finds Max's cheek, thumbing over it. It's gentle and kind, and while he's fairly certain Max has more on his mind, he wants to be certain his dick isn't going to get him in any more trouble than he already is in. Besides, if he breaks Max more, and Paya finds out it's his fault, that'd be terrifying. ]
Edited (dont mind me adding more to stuff and thangs lori, no this is not me nagging for a tag i just thought of something to add shush) 2015-12-15 23:35 (UTC)
[ the small flash of a smile melts max's heart a bit. not that he isn't already feeling squishy and loopy from the heavy heaping of medicinal herbs and magic whatever coursing through him. though, it's with a bit of sadness, as he knows the elliot, the one riding around on bikes with backpacks of rubber ducks with his brother, is gone. like the kid that chases chickens and rode cows on his mother's farm is gone. but that's a fact of life. bad shit happens, and it changes you forever. you learn to live with it, to carry it. because lord knows there's no setting it down or trying to bury it behind you.
either way, it has him bringing a hand up to cup the side of elliot's face, thumb brushing under his eye softly, before he leans in to kiss gently at the corners of his lips. ]
I'll have my secretary put it on your desk in the morning. [ the list, he means, as he kisses down the side of elliot's neck lazily, shoulders a bit achy, but otherwise not bothering him enough to deter him from smothering elliot with gross affection, heading towards explicit things. which elliot seems to be concerned about, so max lifts his head up enough to peer at him at a tilt, with a pffft sort of look. ] Please. This is like a cold to me.
[ not it's not. it's like a flu you have to be hospitalized for. max is just terminal in his tendency to understate every injury he's ever had, physical or otherwise. but there's also the fact elliot's pretty well out of it as well, and maybe max should go on the gentle side of things. shifting some, he lays part on his side, pressed up to elliot, as he idly smooths his palm down elliot's side, over his hip and thigh, and back up again. ] We could go slow. Soft and cute and everything.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
very careful snuggles and boning while recovering from possession/being tethered etc
but elliot is alive, and well, and entirely himself, currently nestled snugly to max's side. and max, while perhaps not entirely well at the moment, is on his way through recovery, and going to be fine. somewhere around the massive house elliot owns in london (don't think we're not going to have a talk about this, btw), paya's puttering around, mixing herbs and brewing tonics, muttering old spells the world forgot centuries ago. worth it. everyone's safe and well and happy, and max would be easily do it again, if he had to.
for the time being, he is worn as fuck. he's never felt this sick in his life, rapidly swapping from feverish to bone deep chills as his magic ebbs back to him, body feeling achy and sore all over, like he'd been pulled inside out and stuffed back together. he's at least not delirious anymore. the first couple days he'd sort of lost to being out of it, and largely passed out for most of it. waking hours, between fever and the medicinal tonics paya'd been feeding him, had been a weird mix of asking the same questions over and over again every ten minutes ('is elliot ok' 'did the spirit go away' 'did someone call dani' 'where are my pants') to strange babbling and occasionally oversharing. but that's magic-morphine for you.
now, about three or four days after the fact, he's lucid, fully conscious, and mostly aware of the nonsense that comes out of his mouth. he's also incredibly clingy, now that he's had time for it all to sink in. it worked, everyone's safe, elliot's here and max has had him curled up half on his chest and half flush to his side for an hour or so. ]
I want to nap for centuries. [ he murmurs, voice rough and low, with lips pressed to elliot's hair. ] I want to hibernate.
precious princes
He'd gone through seemingly hell for him, and Elliot could only assume how terrible it was with how sick he's been. Guilty. Is a great word for what he feels. He owes Paya and Max his life, and there's nothing that could ever change that, no matter how much he tries to repay them, he knows this. He gave the woman free reign of his estate, called the staff in and told them to give her whatever she needs.
He ends up at Max's side about as sleepy, still trying to recover from an ancient river spirit deciding to use him as a taxi cab. Of course, he isn't as sick as his friend, just tired. Nothing about the experience has been pleasant except for perhaps this...
At some point he's managed to nest far too many plush pillows and blankets around them.
The lazy words cause Elliot to grin half against Max. He lets out a small hum in response at first, acknowledgement. ] Okay, as long as I'm allowed to too.
[ His hand slides over Max's chest, before he pats at it gently as if to say me 2 buddy me 2. ] But you might start to smell and I don't want something smelly in my room, let alone on my bed. [ Ah, there's the Elliot we know and love. ]
chiiiinhaaaands
besides, after the last week-ish they'd gone through, max is more than happy to sit in a pile of soft things, with a slender, smarmy little thief curled up to him, and soak in the few days paya will be cutting him some slack for being lazy, and elliot won't be stealing his shit.
being a shit, however, seems to be out of the picture. max snorts, corners of his lips quirking in a small smile, and a hand runs fingers over elliot's forearm idly, as he pats his chest. ] What'll you care? You'll be asleep.
[ under the thick layers of blankets shoveled on top of them, max's feet kick at elliot's playfully, knees bumping some. he's totally bare under the sheets, because that's just how he sleeps, and it's nothing anyone hasn't seen besides. even paya's been unfortunate witness to his streaking adventures on occasion. ]
Fine. We wake intermittently for bubblebaths. [ the fingertips tracing along his friend's arm venture higher, over a shoulder, up his neck, and max brushes some of elliot's hair back, tilting his head some to look at him. ] And there'd better be rubber duckies, or I'm sending the manservants out.
[ and now he's just making fun of him and his fancy palace-house. ]
no subject
He doesn't seem to pay any mind to the goosebumps that come to life over his skin with Max's fingertips. Instead, he seems more interested in tangling his legs up with Max's. The only reason he has boxers on are the trips he's made to the kitchen to ask or procure the occasional bite to eat or glass of water. Water. He can drink water again without it looking like blood or something far more putrid. Max would even notice on the nightstand next to his side there was a glass for him in case he needed it. ] So intermittent bubble-baths are a must.
[ When he feels those fingers make a new path over his skin he melts even more against Max. Dark eyes open again to watch Max. It's as if Elliot can't keep his hands to himself, because his hand slides up, so he can thumb over Max's jaw. ] There's 132 rubber ducks in this house, I got them as a prank when I was younger. [ The words are said matter-of-factly before he turns down and - oh, he's supposed to be nice, but those sure are teeth nipping into Max's skin as if to protest the mockery.
He's sure there are a thousand questions pertaining to this place alone, probably the main one being why don't you stay here instead. Or maybe, why do you steal from people like me? But Elliot doesn't exactly see this as his life, his parents have always been distant because of their jobs, which he understands and he's never really wanted to be some posh little brat. The world has enough of them. ] But if you need anything don't hesitate to ask.
no subject
his lips pull wider, small sated smile stretching to a grin as he imagines a younger elliot sneaking around this massive house, playing pranks and getting into trouble. shuffling 132 rubber ducks into the various bathrooms of this mansion of a home. he wonders, though, how much elliot considers it a home. he never talks about his family here, doesn't seem to visit often, and there's a cold kind of feeling to it all. max has yet to see a trace of elliot's parents, or anyone, outside of the house staff. huh. ]
132, exactly? [ he muses, as he turns his face into the fingers touching along his jaw, always such a glutton for contact and sensation. his lips find the pad of elliot's thumb at some point, parting so that he can nip at his fingertip with teeth, playful. ] Any special reason for the number, or was that just all Bed Bath & Beyond had in stock?
[ and that soft nip turns more into a bite when he feels elliot's teeth against his shoulder. rude. but not actually, considering it sends a little spike of warmth flushing over his skin, already sensitive just by the wear of the last several days, but now, at least, pleasantly so. max chases it, ankle hooking around the back of the leg elliot's tangled with his, and dragging himself up to push the other boy's back to the mattress, max slipping a knee between his thighs. not the easiest of movements, considering the achiness all over, but worth it to settle himself comfortably half-blanketing him. ] Anything? Absolutely anything? You want the list now or later?
no subject
This house isn't a home, not really. Maybe if his brother was still alive there could be a possibility for that, but after his passing any semblance of happiness in this place went down the drain. ] It's all we could fit with us on our bikes. [ Something akin to a smile finds its way onto his face for a brief moment, but it's gone as quickly as it appears. He can remember they stuffed as many as they could in their backpacks and rode their bikes home. The staff had to have known they were up to something when they'd went straight for the master bathroom backpacks bulging.
He tugs his hand away reflexively, frowning at Max, but then his heater is moving and the pillow nest is being shifted and it's a German sized earthquake. With every movement Max makes, Elliot tries to hover his hands by his shoulders, allowing himself to be pliable whilst trying to offer any support Max might need. He winds up with his back against the bed, a turn of events he doesn't particularly mind, and then that knee. ] I'll take the list whenever, [ He pauses and shifts slightly, it's taking a lot of self restraint not to chase after his lips, not to touch him. ] but are you sure you should be moving about? [ Oh, look, concern, it's an actual thing he's capable of.
He's certainly not going to try using any magic anytime soon, so he can only assume what Max feels like. Sure, they'd been in a similar situation, but Elliot had an ancient river spirit draining him like a Duracell when it got angry, which to be fair was like 90% of the time, it wasn't for some super strong juju, it was just to punish him, he assumed. He's still not completely sure, it sure as hell felt like the thing was prepared to kill him when Paya was trying to tear it out of him. Which had been an awful experience, one he'd never want to repeat ever again if at all possible. Even with the concern, Elliot's hand finds Max's cheek, thumbing over it. It's gentle and kind, and while he's fairly certain Max has more on his mind, he wants to be certain his dick isn't going to get him in any more trouble than he already is in. Besides, if he breaks Max more, and Paya finds out it's his fault, that'd be terrifying. ]
no subject
either way, it has him bringing a hand up to cup the side of elliot's face, thumb brushing under his eye softly, before he leans in to kiss gently at the corners of his lips. ]
I'll have my secretary put it on your desk in the morning. [ the list, he means, as he kisses down the side of elliot's neck lazily, shoulders a bit achy, but otherwise not bothering him enough to deter him from smothering elliot with gross affection, heading towards explicit things. which elliot seems to be concerned about, so max lifts his head up enough to peer at him at a tilt, with a pffft sort of look. ] Please. This is like a cold to me.
[ not it's not. it's like a flu you have to be hospitalized for. max is just terminal in his tendency to understate every injury he's ever had, physical or otherwise. but there's also the fact elliot's pretty well out of it as well, and maybe max should go on the gentle side of things. shifting some, he lays part on his side, pressed up to elliot, as he idly smooths his palm down elliot's side, over his hip and thigh, and back up again. ] We could go slow. Soft and cute and everything.