#spills a whole barrel of identity exploration and fragmentation into the writing

[whisperwritingstuff]

once again we have arrived at the time for hfs e/l as delivered to you all by myself and @varanere00 co-writing it. today on the docket we bring you post-funishment sillies and nourishing mealtimes. enjoy!

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Wakefulness returns to Neit slowly, pieces at a time. The first thing he knows is that he is wonderfully warm, and his pillow is pleasantly cool. Nuzzling deeper into it, he sighs, not ready to open his eyes or move his sated-heavy body.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Vex's voice, along with gentle fingers carding through his hair pull him further out of the sweet oblivion of sleep. Neit mewls, hiding his face under the blanket. He wants to sleep more!

"Breakfast is here." Vex continues, unheeding of Neit's plight. "You did wonderfully for me. Took your punishment so well. So well." Even the little scalp scritches Vex gives him do not convince Neit that it's time to get up. That's for later hours. Right now is sleepy hours.

Neit chirps adoringly at Vex, squinching his eyes even closederer and trying to bring sleep back up to claim him again. Everything is perfect right now, he doesn't need food or standing or anything. Just Vex. Only Vex.

His pillow shifts beneath him, causing him to cling hard to it. A wonderful smell hits his nose, even half buried in the blankets as it is.

"Well, if you don't want any, I guess I'll have to eat all these blueberry pancakes by myself. All by myself. Ooooh, would you look at that, they came with fruit, cream, and chocolate sprinkles! Score!"

Neit gives a little gasp. "You got me morning after pancakes?" Oh no, that's actually kind of touching. Neit shuffles the blankets so he can just barely peek out, opening his big shiny eyes to blink up at Vex.

"Dunno about morning after, but there's pancakes, yeah." Neit doesn't care what Vex says, these are morning after pancakes.

Neit shimmies himself a bit further up onto his Vex pillow, a little bit sitting up. In truth, a good portion of his resistance was thinking that Vex was going to demand to heathenously get up and ruin the perfect cuddles. But. The food is already here! Nobody has to go away or anything.

"And you'll feed them to me?" Neit really isn't sure how good his arms would be right now vis a vis fine motor skills. He gives Vex his best puppy eyes.

"If that means you'll eat until I say you're done." A fork with a piece of pancake, half a strawberry, a dollop of cream and a smattering of sprinkles appears before Neit. He's snatched it off the fork before realizing what he's doing, sneaky hunger only now making itself known in the presence of tasty food.

Neit croons a low, pleased sound, chewing the heavenly bite of food bestowed upon him by Vex.

"Of course, anything you like." Neit swallows his mouthful before agreeing completely and easily, then waits attentively for the next bite. Of course Vex gets to decide when he's done eating, that's how this works. Vex decides, and Neit enacts.

"That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble someday." Vex shakes his head, but still presents Neit with more pancake. Neit dutifully eats it.

"Do you promise, Trouble?" Neit giggles to himself, happily continuing to eat what he's given. Sneaky hunger is no match for Vex! And morning after pancakes!

Vex just sighs, and flicks Neit on the nose. Completely ignores Neit's perfectly reasonable gasp at that. The injustice!

"Any thoughts on what movie we should watch?"

"Whatever one you wanna watch." Neit answers, also perfectly reasonably in his opinion. Sure, it'll probably be a boring talky stars-thing, but if Vex likes it, that's what matters.

"If you're sure." Vex pauses his feeding of pancake to grab the remote and click through several things on the TV.

"Mhmm." Neit agrees, not even bothering to look at the screen. He does try to see if he can sneak a little nibble of Vex while waiting for more pancakes, though.

Sadly, all he finds is fabric. No skin in nibbling range. Mournfully, he mouths at Vex's shirt, giving him his most pathetic puppy dog eyes.

Vex isn't even looking at him.

After a bit longer of flicking through things, Vex seems to pick one. Or, at least, the noise of it stops changing. Neit's too busy to look.

"That's not pancakes." Vex says, pressing a finger to Neit's forehead to push him away from Vex's shit. Neit pathetically watches it go.

The next forkful of pancake comes soon, this time adorned with a large, juicy blueberry. Neit nomps the whole thing clean off the fork again, licking lil bits of cream from his lips as he goes.

The blueberry pops in Neit's mouth just the way he imagines eyes would. He bets Vex's eyes would taste even better. But Neit wouldn't. He won't. He likes Vex's eyes right just exactly where they are. They should stay there, all mesmerizingly glowy, and look at him more.

A single thought manages to scamper across the vast expanse of Neit's brain. "You. You eating. You gotta eat too." Good enough.

"I ate while you were asleep." Vex responds, holding out another fork. A bit of melon, this time.

"You really-really did?" Neit asks, with all the seriousness he can muster. The melon tempts him, all juicy and bright, but Neit holds strong to wait for an answer.

"I did. Really. There's empty food containers on the coffee table if you're not convinced." Vex gestures over, still holding out the fork.

Neit follows the gesture with his eyes, looking over the containers and nodding. Like, he knows Vex could have just got rid of the food in it another way. But! He trusts Vex. Even if he'd have liked to eat at the same time. And have some of Vex's-

But he's being hand fed now! Which makes up for it! Neit opens his mouth to receive his melon slice bite, please and thank you.

"I saved you a bite, by the way. Of my apple oatmeal." Vex informs him as he's fed his melon-and-pancake.

Neit has to cover his mouth, briefly almost choking on the bite when he registers what Vex said. Oh no, oh Neit can feel the wibbly sensation of his waterworks trying to start up.

"For me? Really?" Neit can't put to words why that hits him so hard. Why the notion that Vex knows and remembers that he likes having different foods, and that he taste a little bit of that variety... It just feels so big for Vex to not just care to remember that detail, but go out of his way to enact it when he could have just let it pass.

"Of course. Of course. Just let me know when you want it." Another fork of pancake hovers nearby, waiting for Neit to compose himself. It's got a piece of apple on it, the cream on top looking like enchanted Christmas snow.

Neit scrubs at his own eyes, as best he can with the Vex mask on. Or is it a Neit mask? Hm, no, probably still a Vex mask.

"I want it." Neit manages to say, voice still not quite steady, before carefully engulfing the apple cream bite in his mouth, maintaining the integrity of the illusion for as long as he can, before dashing it between his teeth. It's a little like eating magic, he thinks.

"Alright. Alright." Vex leans forward again, and returns with a spoonful of oatmeal.

“Thank you.” Neit murmurs, well aware of the absurdity of tearing up again at the sight of a spoonful of oatmeal. In his defense, no other oatmeal has ever tasted quite so much like being cared about before. Neit takes the mouthful carefully, slowly. Unwilling to risk losing even the smallest bit of it. And of course Neit licks the spoon clean thoroughly, watching Vex with utterly adoring eyes.

Vex simply resumes feeding Neit the pancakes bite by bite, each time including a piece of fruit salad and a dollop of cream.

Neit perkily goes right back to the rhythm of eating the bites Vex feeds him, making occasional chirps and croons about especially tasty bits. He wouldn’t mind if this just went on forever. He nuzzles into Vex’s chest in between bites, feeling affectionate and soft. He doesn’t get to feel soft often, not in a way that he enjoys.

The pancakes stop coming, instead replaced with bites of scrambled eggs.

"What do you want to watch next? We have time for one more movie before you can cook lunch." Vex asks, offering up another forkful of eggs. In the background, the ending credits of his sciencey show run.

Neit snaps up the scrambled eggs in big playful bites and chomps.

"Mm, you pick stuff." Neit says, though a flicker of hesitation runs through him, the momentary thought that he'd choose instead. That's silly. Even if there are movies he'd like.

"You sure man? I know my stuff is boring to you."

"But you like it." Neit says, considering. That urge to pick is still there, but he considers Vex. Vex lets him pick the movies all the time, doesn't he? Hasn't he? Neit's pretty sure Vex doesn't find his stuff interesting either. "Nice things for you."

Neit can't put words to it how that feels like a materially different decision than he'd previously made, even though both were to allow Vex to choose what they watch.

"Alright. Thanks man." Vex hits play on another episode, and feeds Neit what is apparently the last bite of egg, as no further bite appear.

Neit scoots himself around until he can snuggle up comfy to Vex's chest. He can glance sidelong at the screen from there, occasionally trying to watch it and see what Vex finds so interesting in it. There are some cool graphics, even if most of the talking parts lose Neit pretty quickly. When that happens, he just goes back to nuzzling Vex until he feels like trying again. It's no action packed adventure, but it is a good way to pass a cozy-drowsy morning post-meal lethargy.

Neit thinks two episodes of sciencey talk have passed. He's not quite sure. When he feels a hand on his cheek.

"Neit? You wanted to cook?"

Chill hand, good feel. Neit leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering to a brief half-mast before he realizes he's being spoken to.

"I did?" Neit doesn't quite mean for the words to come out as a question, he knows that he did. It just feels briefly confusing for some reason. Like he shouldn't? But he wants to.

"You did." Vex strokes his cheekbone with a thumb. "You don't have to if you don't want to. We can always order in."

"Nn." Neit quivers faintly under the affectionate touch.

Easy. It'd be so easy to just let himself take that out, go along with what Vex wants. Neit's inner thigh twitches with a phantom throb of pain. He belongs to Vex.

Is this how Vex wants him, always agreeable? Always?

"Neit? Come on, come back to me." Vex looks at him so softly, Neit just wants to cry. All too soon, he can feel the hot tears spilling over. "Shhh, it's gonna be okay." Vex hugs him close, rocking him gently. Cool fingers thread through his hair. "You're gonna be fine."

He clings to Vex, soaking in the comfort. And a little bit soaking Vex's shirt. Everything's all jumbly and loud inside himself, and it feels like the bins where he keeps his himselves are all spilled out messy on the floor of his mind, mixing up with one another. A room he had been so proud of keeping tidy for so long, in disarray.

Even after he leaves here, nothing's going to quite ever be the same, is it? He sobs with mourning for a normal that may not even be better than this new way of things, but that was comfortable. Steady. That made sense.

Vex is- What is Vex to him? A question with more answers than ever.

Vex is gentle with him, something he hadn't appreciated before, when it was usually in almost gruff, passing ways during these weeks. Vex's hand in his hair is soothing.

But he knows the taste of Vex's fist too. He doesn't want to give that up. Scar grips Vex's shirt.

This week will end. It will end, and he'll go back to his apartment, knowing what this tastes like. Knowing he has to wait to feel this again, be this again. But he'll get back rooftops and fists and explosions, his heart singing high with adrenaline and victory. Does it even out? Does it balance?

"I. Want to cook." Scar says, forcing his way past the hitch in his voice. He wants to make the most of this time while he has it.

"Take your time. I'm not that hungry yet." Vex presses a kiss to Scar's forehead. Why does Vex have to be so sweet? So considerate? It's just not fair!

"Why's someone as thoughtful as you a villain." Scar huffs, lightly headbutting Vex's shoulder. How dare Vex have this ooey gooey core of goodness and sweetness in him. Rude!

"Who said villains can't be thoughtful in their schemes. I do make sure to always label my self destruct buttons after all." Vex deadpans. "Besides, maybe my villainy has thoughtful origins."

"Cuteguy says you're just doing that to lull me into bein' too comfortable hitting that button, that you're gonna switch it on me onea these days." Scar mutters. He doesn't let himself think too hard about how it'd feel to hit a button and realize he'd helped Vex's scheme instead of stopping it.

"That is a good idea, I'll have to thank Cuteguy next time I see him." Vex chuckles.

"Oh, he'll hate that." Scar nods, casually. He's never going to hear the end of having mentioned it to Vex from Grian but like. It doesn't really change anything, does it? Vex was already gonna do it or not, so like. What's talkin’ about it matter?

Vex hums, petting his hair. They sit in silence for a while, both looking at the next episode screen of the sciencey show.

"So what did you want to cook?" Vex asks.

"Depends. You got a waffle-makey?" Technically that idea was for when Scar thought he was the one making the fancy morning after foods, but it's what he planned for so he's gonna at least try.

"I think so?" Scar can see Vex's eyebrows crinkle under the mask. "Check the back of the top left cabinet. Behind the panini press."

"Oh good, then spicy chicken waffles is a go!" Scar cheers. He wiggles in excitement for cooking.

"And how long will those take you? You should not be on your foot for long. Half an hour at most."

"Uuuuh, yeah. I can definitely for sure do it in a half hour." Scar nods real big repeatedly, having absolutely no idea how long the meal will take to cook. Well, not no idea, it does have to be longer than the minutes the chicken has to be in the oil, but the rest of it is kinda whatever. He'll figure it out!

Vex does not look convinced. "Take a chair with you. Sit whenever you can."

Scar pokes Vex directly in the middle of the chest. "Chair."

"Hm?" Vex tips his head, confused. "Yes, you should take a chair with you."

"I pick you. You're chair." Scar grins at Vex, impishly.

"I'm not a chair Neit. Sitting on me is not practical for cooking." Vex sighs when Scar gives him his very best puppy dog eyes. He wants to sit on Vex!

"I can come to the kitchen with you." Vex concedes. "You can sit on my lap if you have a waiting period."

"You undersell your chair-ability." Scar giggles. But! he'll take the victory of Vex coming with him.

Scar smooches Vex right on the nose. Because he can!

Bamboozled! Scar almost squeaks in surprise when Vex smooches him back! Right on the nose too!

How dastardly, of Vex to use his own tricks against him! Scar fires back with a whole volley of tiny kisses all over Vex's face!

He does squeal when Vex gathers him into his arms, and stands up, Scar throwing his arms around his neck and hanging on for dear life! Vex brings him to the kitchen, setting him down on the counter.

"You gonna get the waffley maker for me, Vexy?" Scar asks, fluttering his eyelashes. If Vex is in Scar's kitchen, then obviously he has to help. That's the rule. And Vex did so good with the cocoa and coochie!

Meanwhile, Scar's got a fridge to crack open and scout for his newly delivered ingredients.

"Sure." Scar can hear Vex rummaging through the cabinets. The fridge has all the stuff he ordered, save for the flour, baking powder and spices. Those are sitting out on the counter. Why Vex put the honey in the fridge Scar doesn't know.

Scar eagerly grabs ingredients out, making sure he carefully portions out each powder and goop and spice he needs into their own little dishes. Vex has like, the best washy machine ever, so Scar doesn't have to care about using a millionty billionty dishes.

And Scar's treat, for putting all of his mis in the appropriate place?

Is that Scar gets to take down his kitchen knife and cleaver, so he can break down the whole chicken into appropriately fryable pieces!

Scar hums cheerfully to himself, sliding knife under skin, through muscle. Twisting and cracking joints confidently before slamming them sharply with the cleaver. It's the best part! Taking apart a thing that was alive, and rendering it into perfectly cookable chunks of sinew and bone! This part at least, holds all of Scar's fervent focus.

A shame that it's over all too soon, but Scar's very proud of his work, pieces all laid out on a rack over a tray to dry out a bit extra. And Vex has even got a fancy-fancy sink he can tap with his arm to turn on! So he can wash up all the chicken ick!

"Those're gonna need sharpening soon." Scar says to himself, to hopefully remember to do that later, while setting the knives up to dry.

"Vexy, you got that plugged in?" Scar finally turns to look for Vex.

"Vex?" Scar doesn't see him anywhere. The waffle-makey is sitting on the counter, cord curled neatly around it.

"Vex?" Scar tries again. A movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. Vex- Vex is sitting on top of the upper cabinets. Watching Scar with an amused smirk on his face.

"You wonder how I can be thoughtful and a villain, yet you seem to enjoy rending corpses a little too much for someone who plays hero." Vex's words and tone send a shiver down Scar's spine. Like Vex can see right into his soul.

Scar resists the urge to look away. He also discards the urge to insist he is a- Well, he's not right now.

"Being a hero takes knowing a lot about bodies. This is basically the same set of skills, why wouldn't I take pride in my work?" Scar challenges back, moving to set up the waffle-maker and get it heating while his waffle batter is still resting from earlier setup.

"Hmm, I think not." Vex floats down from his perch, so he's nose to nose with Scar. "Do remember to give your feet a break. No matter how high your pain tolerance is, wounds heal better when you don't apply mechanical stress to them." Vex boops a kiss onto Scar's nose, before settling on a kitchen table chair. "Don't let me bother you." He waves Scar back to work. "You have 24 minutes left."

Scar huffs. "You can't expect me to take a break with you pushin' the time pressure like that."

Regardless, Scar drags out the heavy pot and gets the lard on to melt and heat up. Should he have done that sooner? Shut up. Shut up is when he should have done it, Vex is getting him all dismabobjimated.

"You think too much. It makes you go silly in the head." Scar shakes his head, taking just a moment to straddle Vex's lap while everything is waiting for a bit.

Vex pets Scar's thighs where Scar's sitting on him. Not saying anything, just looking at Scar intently with that ghost of a smile on his lips.

Leaning a little in to drape his arms over Vex's shoulders, Scar lets himself enjoy the moment of staring into Vex's eyes. Eventually, he feels himself echoing that smile's spirit in his own twist of lip. Matchy.

"Your pot." Vex reminds him, taking his hands off him.

Scar jolts, hopping off of Vex's lap. Right! He's cooking!

Oh no, the color on the number stick is up too high now- Scar tosses a couple of extra chunks of lard in while turning the stove down, and lets it get on with its whole thing while greasing and pouring up the first waffle.

From there Scar falls into a flurry of back and forth steps without much break. Dredge the chicken, with a bit of wet flicked into the last dry to make it extra crispy craggly. Seasony spices also through the dry to make it extra tastingful. Making sure to keep his wet and dry hands straight, and dropping in the chicken bits when the number is good. In batches, of course. Appropriately cleaning his hands as he goes.

But he also has waffles to manage while this is going on, wanting at least four good ones, so he pulls and pours a fresh one before getting back to turn the chicken. Steps moving on beat, mind ticking in time. Back and forth between chicken and waffles.

Scar tunes everything else out, until he finally has two plates, with double savory-sweet waffles stacked high with bright golden-red crispy-crunchy chicken, all drizzled over with a generous serving of spicy honey.

Scar sways slightly as he stands back to appraise his plated work.

"Three minutes over time." Vex declares. "No more kitchen time for you today. Or standing time in general. This does look delicious though. Very delicious."

"C'mon, let's eat!" Scar completely ignores Vex saying whatever about his time, and only focuses in on basking in the praise for his food. It does look delicious!

And if Scar stumbles very slightly on his way to his seat, well, the table's right there for him to catch himself on, and at least he wasn't holding the food at the time. Scar settles onto his chair, breathing a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized he was quite so achey until the pressure was off.

They both dig in, and yes, the food is just as good as it smells. Maybe even a bit better.

Scar eagerly takes up his chicken and rends the flesh apart with his teeth, tearing and shaking his head like the food is trying to fight him. He leaves behind a nearly clean pile of bones. The waffles, Scar lifts in his hands as well and savages with just as much abandon.

That hungry glinting gaze settles on Vex for a moment before Scar blinks it back to something cheerful. "How's it?"

Vex, who is eating with a knife and fork like civilized boring person. He's even got a napkin. A napkin! Where did he get that from? When did he get it?

"No complaints." Vex even swallows all of the food in his mouth before speaking! Why does he have so many manners! Scar has never seen someone eat fried chicken quite like this. He watches in baffled fascination as Vex continues to cut up his drumstick into small, bite sized pieces. Nearly uniform in size. Equal bits of waffle, following the top of the ridgelines, to put the chicken on. That Vex then spears on his fork, dips in the pool of honey on his plate, and eats. Like he's at one of those fancy dinners Hotguy sometimes gets invited to. Scar remembers having to take an etieke- equime- a manners and fancy eating class for that. Vex is eating in a way his instructor would have been proud of.

Scar is lost in watching Vex move through the perfect clean little motions of eating what is supposed to be a sticky, savage mess of a meal.

Speaking of sticky, Scar's fingers rather are. So he slowly works his way through licking them clean, eyes still locked on Vex's unhinged way of eating.

The notion of wondering why Vex knows how to eat like that manages to worm its way into Scar's thoughts, mingling with the notion of Vex having all sorts of cash to throw around. Does Vex actually go to fancy rich people functions? Maybe... Well, Scar picks the most interesting-sounding of the invites he gets, to attend, but what if he tried going to a few more of them? Would he find Vex there? As his not-Vex him?

"Do you have no table manners at all?" Vex asks, finally looking up at Scar.

Scar blinks at Vex, popping his finger back out of his mouth to answer. "We're at home." Why would he burn the energy on remembering fancy silly things here?

Vex just sighs and shakes his head. He's still got almost half his food left, unlike Scar, who basically inhaled his. It was good though! Those fancy ingredients really do make a difference!

"Don't you want to have even a little fun with your food?" Scar asks, when Vex doesn't respond.

"My food is plenty fun not touching my fingers, thanks." Vex answers, somewhat stiffly.

"But that's the point of finger food?" Scar tips his head.

"I prefer to use my fingers for my cutlery." Vex shrugs. "I don't like the sticky, greasy feeling of eating with my hands."

Scar rests his chin on his palm, contemplating Vex. He can't say he really gets that. The feeling of warm grease dripping off his fingers and flesh gathered under his nails is a large part of the appeal for Scar, he can't quite imagine what it'd be like to dislike it.

"Weird." Scar concludes.

"What movie do you want to watch after lunch?" Vex asks, seemingly choosing light conversation.

"Oh, we should do musicals!" Scar claps his hands together. "Hm, maybe Lion King?"

"Sounds good man, sounds good. What's that one about again?" How can Vex not know the Lion King!

"Oh, it's this great coming of age romp-" Scar launches into an extended ramble about Lion King, as if they're not just about to go watch it imminently. Including a few very excellent samples of the songs, if he does say so himself.

While Scar explains, Vex finishes his meal, and starts cleaning the kitchen.

"So like Hamlet, except Ophie doesn't die of course, because Simba's better-" Scar continues his rambling without pause, hardly even seeming to notice what Vex is doing.

Scar barely even takes note of Vex scooping him out of his chair once he's done. He's brought to the sink.

"Wash your hands." Vex instructs. Scar blinks.

"But I cleaned 'em good." Scar puts only lip service into his protest, already washing his hands even as he does.

Look, it's one thing to tease Vex, but it's another thing entirely to forget he got spicy on his hands and go touching stuff. If Scar's getting any spice on his junk it's going to be intentional, dang it!

"Good, thank you." He gets a kiss on the cheek for his efforts, as Vex carries him back to the couch after.

Scar melts contentedly into Vex's hold, snuggling up close with Vex once they settle on the couch. He sees no reason he should leave Vex's lap! He did good meal, and now he gets his prize. His Vex. His little nibbles on Vex's neck.

"You need to let me go so I can put on the movie."

Scar pouts. Vex will not be escaping cuddle times! "Make a better movie system." Scar demands, clinging tighter.

Vex sighs. "That will take time. So unless you want me to spend the day in the lab..." he trails off.

No. No, Scar does most certainly not want that. Then he'd have to destroy the lab! Be on his feet even if Vex didn't want him to! It'd be a whole thing, and at the end, they would still not be cuddling and watching Lion King.

"No. No lab. If I'm not allowed in the kitchen, you're not allowed in the lab. Any of them." Scar declares firmly.

"Unless one of us needs medical attention again." Vex feels the need to point out. "So when you cook tomorrow, I can have lab time? Sweet."

Tomorrow...

"How long do I get to stay?" Scar asks, suddenly feeling like that's more important to know. When does the dream end? When does the bubble pop? He rests his head on Vex's chest, not up to looking at Vex while discussing this.

"I'm not planning on kicking you out or anything. I do have to get back to life things in a day or so, but if you don't break anything you can stay until Cuteguy picks you up. Or leave whenever you want. You're not trapped here." This time went unsaid.

A shiver runs through Scar and he squirms. It's all weird and different. He doesn't like it. He's not supposed to be picking when to leave, that means he should have chosen to leave as soon as it was an option-

But Scar doesn't even know if Grian knows where he is. Sure, he can rely on Grian to come get him during the usual kidnapping weeks, let Grian throw a fit at Vex and make it so Scar doesn't have to choose to go. It's all out of his hands! That's how it's supposed to be!

Scar's not comfortable with it being in his hands. Scar touches where his usual phone pocket would be, even though he's obviously not wearing anything usual. Doesn't have his rarely used phone on him. Doesn't have the faintest idea of when the last time he had it even was.

"Cuteguy, I didn't check in with him." Scar mumbles, with shades of guilt coloring his tone. What if Grian's worrying? Who is he kidding, it's Grian, he is worrying.

"Do you need to?" Vex asks.

"M'supposed to." Scar rubs his cheek against Vex's chest. He doesn't check in nearly as often as he's supposed to, he knows, but he tries. Especially when things are different. When he's not home for a while.

And like. He's been safe here, and comfortable. And happy. And leaving Grian to worry alone, when there's nothing to worry about.

"What do you need?"

"Dunno." Scar flexes his hands. Weaves them together and flips it. Stares like he could find answers there. Like they'll have any answer other than that he should go. Scar can't deal with that. He can't. "Sorry, the movie, right." Scar smiles, pretty and perfect, backing up to give Vex room to stand. "Go ahead."

Vex fixes him with an unknowable stare from those uniformly pale blue eyes for a long moment, before getting up and putting on the movie.

Scar doesn't let the stare bring him down, exactly charmingly perky and cheerful as he waits for the movie to start up.

And an excellent choice, as well, with the cold open into song, Scar can simply dive into singing along. No need to think about anything at all.

Just cuddle up to Vex, and focus on nailing the timing of the lyrics.

Cub misses more of the movie than usual, even though his eyes are fixed on the screen. Beside him, even when the song fades away, he can hear Neit muttering along with the dialogue, word for word. Usually Neit only does that for some lines, when he gets excited about a scene and can't stop himself.

Normally doesn't really apply when they were just minutes ago in a conversation before Neit abruptly entirely iced him out, does it? A cold shoulder is a cold shoulder, even if it's done with a smile.

It stings a bit, that Neit is even now so resistant to letting Cub help him. What should he expect, when they've been at odds for so long? A couple of days can't change years of- All that. A chance Cub never thought he would get, or else he would have planned differently. But it's too late to change any of it now. Does he even want to change any of it now?

He can't let Neit go, knowing clearly how poorly he'll take care of his health. And he can't hold Neit here, when they both have lives to get back to.

It's an impossible situation, made only more difficult by the images of Neit that even now haunt Cub's mind. The ragged way he moans Cub's other name. His arching screams. His warm weight, quivering with the effort of following Cub's instructions.

None of that should weigh into Cub's decisions. Maybe if he was a stronger man, they wouldn't.

A senseless if, because none of them would be here if he were. Cub can only be who he is.

Who he is, is a man ignoring both his mask life and his unmasked life, to sit here, with his archnemesis, watching children's movies. And he doesn't even regret it. Not even when Neit's off-key warbling tries to break through his thoughts.

Whatever Neit needs, it's probably with the utility bits of his costume. That are currently buried under knee deep fire suppression foam. Along with Neit's armor. And Cub's armor. And utilities. He's going to have to dig that out, isn't he.

And clean up the whole lab. Cub suppresses a sigh. Can't have Neit think he did something wrong, after all. That might cause him to spiral. Neit seems rather sensitive to rejection, from what Cub has seen. Not that Cub wants to stress him out on any other day, but now that he is in a healing phase, it's especially important that he keeps his sympathetic nervous system dormant. Hopefully the movie is helping.

As Cub is further ruminating on the issue of the lab, he recalls something curious. Namely how both he and Neit were completely foam-free when they emerged from the lab. Cub was fully dry too, despite just having been in the shower. An interesting quirk of his phasing abilities, now that he thinks about it. It's happened before, now that he thinks about it. Never to this extent, but during a few rain battles he can see the pattern, with the knowledge of hindsight.

He might be able to phase in and collect Neit's and his things quickly, then. It's worth a try. Maybe he can excuse himself to the bathroom, pile their armor in his room, and come back. Or should he tell Neit?

With how that conversation about checking in with Cuteguy went, Cub does not think that would go over well. So how to give Neit the opportunity to check in without putting further pressure on him?

Cub is fully aware that he's ignoring his own issues right now, pushing them aside to deal with Neit. That's okay, He can deal with his things tomorrow. Or the day after. Maybe tonight. Whenever he has time. There's nothing pressing on his desk at the moment, and he does have people authorized to make all but the most critical decisions in his absence. And if any of those pop up, well, he'll deal with that when it happens.

Looking at Neit tucked into his side, Cub wonders if Neit would even want to let Cub out of his sight long enough to use the bathroom. With any luck, perhaps Neit will need to use the bathroom himself, which he will hopefully be able to stand long enough for.

And all of that for if the thing Hotguy needs is even up there, no less. And hasn't been broken. And if he could be convinced that Cub just happened to have it in his room after that conversation, and Neit somehow simply hadn't noticed any of the times he was in there.

There's too many unknowns and no safe way to begin narrowing them down.

Cub waits a few moments, thinking of how convenient it would be if Cuteguy just busted down his front door right now. He's told Cuteguy a dozen times that he'll buzz Cuteguy in, but Cuteguy insists on the property damage.

But no, nothing but the movie and Neit's voice fill the room with sound. Cub should be happy. He claimed Hotguy. He claimed Neit. Marked him, permanently. Intentionally. Willingly. He won, in a manner of speaking. So why has everything only become more complex and not less?

The movie ending, shaman monkey holding a lion cub up to the sky. Neit has muttered every single line under his breath. Honestly, Cub is impressed by how he knows every single line by heart.

He's also worried. Neit only mutters the lines if he's extra excited or stressed. And excitement would have him bouncing around more. Cub makes his choice.

"Why are you stressed?" He asks. No use dancing around the subject. Direct questions for direct answers.

"Who said I was stressed?" Neit answers, smile bright. Too still, hands tucked under his thighs.

"Cut the shit, Neit." Cub doesn't pinch the bridge of his own nose, but only because he's been told that makes him look far angrier than he is. Which is useful, sometimes, but the opposite of what he wants right now.

"Maybe I'm supposed to be a little itty bit stressed. You might not know this, but I don't take being put on bedrest-lite super duper well." Neit's eyes dart around, his smile fading slightly but not fully dropping.

"What would make you take it better?" Cub asks. There's a lot Cub could potentially do to make this easier on Neit. Doc has put Cub on rest, and actual bed rest, enough that he has a few tricks up his sleeve.

"I Dunno. We're doing the right stuff, movie and, y'know, whatever." Neit shrugs. "Usually just get crushed into place and deal with it until it's over."

"Do you want something more engaging? Or do you want to let Cuteguy know where you are? If whatever you need is in your gear, I can go get that for you. We should probably get your things out of the lab soon anyway." Cub offers, reaching over to take both of Neit's hand in his. "Or you can sit in the kitchen and order me around while I try to make cookies based on your instructions." That sounds fun, to Cub. Baking is basically chemistry, or so he's heard, except that you can eat the result. And homemade cookies are said to be a very good treat. Stress relieving too. Especially with chocolate.

Neit almost looked like he was about to start talking when Cub took his hands, but when Cub carried on talking, he paused. Good. Neit does still seem to be listening, thinking it over. That's far better than the worst possible outcome here.

"We take just a quick trip to the stupid lab, and then I can be back in the kitchen?" Neit peers almost suspiciously at Cub. Cub doesn't know how more to show he's being completely genuine here.

"We don't have to go the lab now. That can be a later thing. We do eventually need to get our things from there, though. We can go to the kitchen right now and bake, as long as you stay off your feet."

Neit makes a frustrated noise, fingers on both hands curling a bit in Cub's grip. Before Cub can figure out what that means, Neit sighs. "Kitchen sounds good, yeah."

"How do you want to do this? Do you want to sit at the table? Want me to pull you over a chair? Sit on the counter?" A flash of an idea strikes Cub. Back when he had two broken metatarsals, he mostly got around on his rolling lab stools. They have little footrests, ideal for propping up an injured foot. "I want to fetch a pair of gloves for myself anyway, do you want me to bring you a rolling lab stool? I think that might be the best option actually. If you want it."

Neit gets that squinchy expression on his face like he's doing some kind of math and unhappy about it. What kind completely escapes Cub.

"Fine, I'll try your dumb stool." Neit is back to squinting at him.

"Want me to take you to the kitchen now or when I have the stool?" Cub presses a kiss to Neit's forehead.

"Rug bad, kitchen first." Neit relents, chirping a soft noise when kissed.