breakaleginhalf | dataBURST: IC Inbox

Sure. Just...

[ Ms Mojo had settled herself to the side as Bugsy fiddled around with the haircare supplies. She put her muzzle back on his leg, blinking up at him. ]

Go set up. I should be good in ten, I'll buzz if I'm not. Alright?

Yeah. Yeah, 'course.

[It takes both hands to push him up from the awkward spot he's slumped himself into, but Bugsy won't miss the twitch of his tail smacking the inside of his pants as he turns to move away.]

It's the one with that full-body mirror set-up instead of a sink, next to the Coda Kitchen.

[The one that's just black and white for some weird reason.

And honestly, Gil spends most of that ten minutes (or however long Bugsy chooses to take) gently panicking; he's already got a pair of shears in there, so he's using those to cut off the bandages wrapped around his torso. There's no getting around this one: he'd gotten lucky managing to keep Bugsy's hands off his torso during their... fun, but even if the higher bullet wound that went through his heart is covered by the shaggy mane currently, the one that went through his ribs isn't, on either side. And they're going to be revealing them in full anyway.

So mostly he's just standing facing the mirror, examining the scars on his chest with a tired air. They're healing well enough, no longer bubbled or weird and itchy-tender, but still highly sensitive, and his ears flick as he traces around the wound again.]

[ Bugsy spent the ten minutes cuddled up to his mutt, trying to get his head into some sorta array. This was an apology, a way to make up for the tension of their encounter. A simple tit for tat. He didn't need to have his heart in his throat like this.
Eventually he figured he ought to just get it over with, heaving himself up and dragging the supplies with him.

Despite the heaviness of his boots, Gil probably didn't hear him approaching, only saw him slip into the background of his reflection, eyes red and shiny in the fluorescent light. ]

What's the other guy look like?

[Shirtless like this, Bugsy will see Gil's mane raise a fraction, ears flick directly back at him as Gil spots him in the mirror - but both relax in the same moment. He doesn't like not hearing people, and he's not sure if he was just distracted or Bugsy was being Winter.]

Ribs, neck, spine... used his ass to break through a wall and throw him down a three storey drop.

[The details are unnecessary, really, but it's a very Autumn response. He glances over his shoulder to meet Bugsy's eye properly.]

Course, he did shoot me first, so I'm not sure who's laughing now.

You're still alive. Means you're the one who can laugh at all.

[ Bugsy stepped into the bathroom properly, retrieving a pair of shears before gently putting the bag down next to the bathtub. ]

You gonna sit in the tub for this? Just might be less messy.

Wasn't at the time.

[But that's all he'll say on that for now; instead he'll nod at Bugsy's suggestion with a small affirmative grunt, and does indeed sit on the edge of the bath with his hooves on the inside.]

You don't have to be, like. Precious or anything with it, you can just grab a handful and start whacking.

Y'know what punks my age used to use instead of mohawk gel? Fucking Elmer's glue. I've got experience with this.

[ But his touch betrayed his caution, holding only at the very ends of the mane, only daring to get close to Gil's skin with the shears, cutting at the part of the hair before it got tangled. It was slow work, but fairly efficient, and so far, he managed to avoid any real skin to skin contact.

Until his pinkie slipped.

And Gil got a brief taste of the sheer compressed nervousness lurking below the surface, how desperate he was to not fuck this up, again. ]

[It's not like Gil's coming across as any less nervous, really: as soon as Bugsy's fingers start carding his fur, it all starts standing on end, shoulders tensing just enough to be visible as his ears flick back. He hasn't... doesn't let people touch his fur, normally; his mane starts below his hairline so it's easy to ignore the incidental touches of it when people brush past his shoulders, he's more worried about his ears when people touch his head and what they see as hair. So to have someone, with such deliberate care, such tenderness, working through it... he's not sure whether it's just touch starvation, familiar and relaxing or disturbingly, distressingly familiar to how he used to be soothed into complacency Back There.

So he's already halfway freaking out when the fingers brush through deeper, and feels that brief, cool contact.

Gil's hands on the edge of the tub grip with such sudden force that the shitty digital porcelain cracks like a gunshot, his loose tail presses flat like it's trying to tuck between his legs and a brief growl escapes before he can strangle it into submission.

And then his ears turn bright red, when the extra panic disappears as soon as it's gone.]

...sorry.

[ The crack of the porcelain made Bugsy scatter backwards, shears still in hand. He stared at Gil's back for a good long while, the fly-like hairs all over standing on edge at the sudden acute panic. But then Bugsy took a long breath, and rubbed his face with the gloved back of his hand. ]

No, 'm sorry. I must've fucked up.

[Gil leans forward a fraction, so he can rest his elbows on his knees and rub his face for a few seconds.]

Maybe it'd be easier if we just kept contact. Then there's no, like... sudden fucking surprises. [For either of them.] I can handle that, I'm not sure I can handle this so well.

If you think that'd work.

[ Bugsy wasn't convinced, but he'd try it, if only to get to say he told Gil so.
He resumed his previous position, this time threading his fingers under the fur, fingertips against Gil's neck as he held each part of the fur steady.
The nervousness from their last contact was still there, of course. But eventually, there was something warm and familiar there, too. Spurred by the memory of cutting the hair of other punks in shitty filthy bathrooms, a familiar intimacy he hadn't gotten to experience in a good long while. And there was, of course, some nervousness less acute and fearful. Something more akin to butterflies. ]

[Again Gil's fur stands on end with the gentle touch, but this time his hands curl into tight fists with the blast of nervousness - and he takes a deep breath, holding it in his chest for as long as he can, before he lets it out slowly, and inhales again. It doesn't make the fur settle but it helps him... categorise, almost. Find the gaps between Bugsy's nervousness and his own, break down the distinctions between the big feelings they're both having, and try and identify the little ones at all.

Bugsy starting to relax helps wind down the worst of his own stress, too, despite how hard he's trying to keep things separate; and when he lets out another deep exhale, a gentle tug from Bugsy, incidental at best, makes him tilt his head back, just a fraction, as his ears twitch just a little further away from his skull.]

Edited 2021-05-15 13:15 (UTC)

[ Gil relaxing, in turn, helped Bugsy breathe further, to actually enjoy the intimacy of it. He felt useful, for once, and Gil was so soft, and- Gil had reacted to that little tug there. Something bloomed, trepidation and curiosity. ]

Did that... feel good?

[Damn right he's soft, Gil takes excessively good care of his mane. He's felt it dirty and he never wants to go back to that, even remotely.]

Uhh... kind of...

[It was complicated, too much to explain when he's trying not to lose himself again - he feels that slight shift in Bugsy's emotions, and the curiosity is piquing his own, makes his tail twitch in trepidation, and he can't help it.]

Just - be gentle, with that...?

'course.

[ He could do gentle.

Bugsy's fingers slid through Gil's mane again, finding a thick part and slowly forming a fist to pull the mane back, holding it there for a moment before starting to cut it free. He was being remarkably gentle, all things considered, just enough pressure to hold the hair taut. His curiousity only grew, anticipating Gil's reaction. ]

[The gentle increase in pressure makes a wince flick across Gil's muzzle, probably visible to the taller Changeling, and a soft rumble thrums in his chest as his head tilts back obediently with the grip. Not quite a growl; perhaps the beginnings thereof, a chesty hum, but his hands open again and flex gently, claws scraping harmlessly this time against the porcelain.]

[ Was that... a purr? Near to one? Bugsy didn't repeat the gesture, smoothed his hand through the patch of mane he'd just trimmed to soothe him. His heart beat a little faster in his chest, more curiosity, wondering what other things he could discover about his Ogre friend. ]

's alright, baby, you're doing good, we're getting there-

[ He reassured with a rasp as he slid his fingers through to cut the mane as he'd been doing before, rubbing small circles into Gil's neck with his thumb. ]

[There's just a soft exhale through Gil's nose when Bugsy releases, and another humming growl - slightly stronger this time, verging on an actual growl but again leaning into the touch. His ears are relaxed now, more or less at ease apart from the occasional brief twitch.

He's trying not to get sucked in, he's really trying, but it's hard and curiosity is infectious for him, so he can't help but find himself being sucked in to seeing what Bugsy wants to find, what he's willing to let himself do in this, what they might...

He's not sure which part of all this is making his ears heat up. He just gives a small hum in answer.]

[ This was going remarkably well. Almost too well, really. Gil was leaning into his touch and purring more and-

Well, it was making him worried. A small peal of nervousness washed over him again, worry that he was infecting- tainting- Gil's emotions like he had last time. So he let go, ostensibly to dust his hands off, removing all contact for a moment or two. ]

Christ, we could probably make a nest with this mop once you're all trimmed up. Or a sculpture.

[The problem with empathy bonds is that even the emotions you aren't thinking you're feeling still leak through, and Gil's ears flick automatically with that increasing onset of gentle nervousness - and correct again as Bugsy removes his hands, as Gil blinks sharply at the sudden shock of emptiness.

(He's never going to get used to that, is he - the sudden loss, almost, of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him no matter how positive or negative, that leaves him hollow and confused and shellshocked until he remembers his own are still there.)

But his shoulders untense immediately, automatically, as he turns to look over the edge of the bath at the progress so far.]

...man, that's way more than I usually get solo, nice job. You can keep it if you want, make a fucking... shag blanket or something.

[He shifts his ass slightly, to try and get more comfortable and-- ah. All of Bugsy's touching had been that kind of thrilling too, apparently, and he feels his ears turn red.]

Shit, don't tempt me. I'll work something out with it.

[ Quietly glad that Gil hadn't majorly freaked out or anything, and after he'd dusted his hands off, he ran his fingers through Gil's mane to shake any stuck hairs loose, marveling in the softness again. ]

Just a bit more to go, then we can probably see about giving it a once-over with the clippers.

[ Unaware of his companion's situation, he returned to trimming the mane, his face now close enough to Gil's neck that his breathing tickled through Gil's mane. And, to test and see if he'd notice through the fur... Bugsy brushed his mouth against Gil's neck, barely touching it. ]

[Oh that's definitely not the part Gil's freaking out about.

Bugsy's hand working through Gil's mane gets another jolt - but softer this time, maybe he is adjusting - but its his breath brushing the back of Gil's close-to-bare neck that makes the remaining fur around the affected area stand on end, and gets a slightly louder inhale from Gil.

But Gil hears Bugsy shuffling slightly to bend down for that kiss, and all he gets is a curious twitch of one ear, an attempted side glance at Bugsy in his peripherals - before he feels that soft pressure brush against his fur, and all of his mane stands on end, as a shiver runs up his spine and makes his tail twitch. No noise for this one, but a very distinct sort of tension. Waiting to see what happens next.]

[ There were a couple of reasons that Bugsy liked dating his fellow Beast or Beast-adjacent changelings. Sure, there were the jokes about picking hairs out of your mouth for weeks afterwards, but the softness of Gil's fur underneath his lips was nice, if a little ticklish.

The other, is that there were certain tells that indicated if they were into something or not. Twitches of their ears, flicks of tails, and-

All of their fur standing on end.

Like Gil's was at his kiss.

Bugsy audibly inhaled, and smoothed a little fur down with the back of his shear-holding hand. His nerves were betrayed by their empathetic bond and not his words, as he slipped the other hand to Gil's waist (softly, cautiously). ]

Howsabout we finish up here and then head back to your room?

[Gil doesn't know if the patting his neck is supposed to be soothing or not when it happens, but Bugsy might just be able to feel the goosebumps forming under the clipped fur as he does.

His side twitches sharply when the hand appears on his waist unexpectedly, brushing through the much shorter fur there - still long enough, given his size, but not much more than an inch - but it gets the ghost of a rumble in his chest as Gil exhales deeply. And after a few seconds, Gil's hand lifts, almost cautiously, and presses lightly on top of Bugsy's, tracing his thick fingers along the spaces between Bugsy's. ]

Don't try and sound all cool when you say that. [But it's a playful admonishment at best; mostly he's self-conscious about his own body betraying him like this, compounded by Bugsy's nervousness and anticipation and his own growing needs as he tilts his head back again to lean into Bugsy's touch a little more.] But... yeah. Yeah, I think I'd be down.

Oh c'mon- if you couldn't feel that I'm shitting myself right now it would've been a fucking sexy move.

[ Still, his hand atop Bugsy's was a pleasant sensation, one that stoked more than a bit of affection in him, and Bugsy pressed another kiss to Gil's neck. ]

Well, I'm gonna need my other hand if you want me to finish this up, baby.

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