[ Fandaniel isn't oblivious to the warning lingering in the air. He can feel it, how heavy it hangs over their heads, but it won't convince him to do anything other than laugh as he says that. Certainly, he won't use the name again, if that's the case, but it doesn't change the insane urge to have something from the man who should be his and his alone.
The gentle touch on Nishi's wrist becomes a hold as he grabs onto it instead, grip tightening. ]
Oh, no, not only the name. How he looks at you. Talks to you. How he spent the night with you. I am no longer willing to share; thus did I make sure he knew exactly how I felt about him and you.
[His hand slips from Fandaniel's chin— he already has his rapt attention, no need to hold him in place. Even so, Fandaniel's grip around his wrist keeps him from pulling away. Char allows it, granting the attention he's after... at least until he settles himself.
If he settles at all.]
So you overstepped. You didn't just lose your composure— you acted on irrational feelings and hurt someone needlessly. Tell me... how did you imagine I would respond? Did you hope I'd be proud of you? Or was it enough just to cry out for attention?
[ And he does want it, he wants the attention, he wants it so badly that it doesn't even make sense to him. He shouldn't feel like this about anyone. This is nothing more than another tiny life, utterly meaningless, short, soon to die with naught to show for it, and yet, and yet, and yet, this has been getting worse from the night they realized they held one another's secrets.
His grip tightens further, almost painfully, and he surges to his feet with a grimace. His side burns with pain, a reminder of where Solomon gave as good as he got during their little skirmish. ]
Needlessly? Needlessly?! Solomon has been a thorn in my side from the very start of this little game! I restrained myself until I saw you... and him... Looking so friendly with one another...
[ Were they? Or was Fandaniel being delusional, seeing what wasn't there? He yanks at Char's wrist, trying to force him close to him. ]
I want you to look only at me. Only me until the time comes for you to finally kill me.
[ He's certainly pushing it. Without his magic, Fandaniel is nothing more than a small man with, perhaps, a fit enough build, sure enough, but he is no fighter. He is no Char. He's certainly in no real position to make demands, and yet he does, because he cannot help it. He feels desperate for his attention. He wants, and it has been so long, so very long since he has wanted anything or anyone at all. ]
[Fandaniel's grip is strong for a man in his state, but to Char it feels more like desperation than strength. He doesn't resist being pulled closer, though— he allows it, steady and unyielding, gaze sharp enough to cut. The demand is almost laughable, but the ache in the man's voice... that's much harder to dismiss.
For all his bluster, Fandaniel is trembling, not from power, but from want. Char recognizes it immediately. He's seen men beg for war, for peace, for recognition. This is no different. Another plea disguised as arrogance.]
You mistake obsession for resolve. Forcing my gaze won't keep it.
[He twists his wrist just so, testing the weak link in Fandaniel's hold. His tone drops lower, colder, yet not without weight.]
If what you want is my attention, earn it with more than jealous tantrums. I don't give myself to those who claw at me.
[ Char gives his wrist a twist, and Fandaniel will let it go, struggling to rein in how he feels.
The need for this man is a foreign intrusion, and it isn't as though he doesn't see that; the dilemma lies with how it allows him to finally feel something, something that isn't hate and misery, and to fight it feels horrible. He wants to want. He wants to desire. It's just unfortunate that Char has ended up being the focus of all of it. ]
Then what would you have me do to earn it? [ He's curious, at least, though he does doubt Char's requirements will be something he can easily meet. ] You know I would do anything. I already told you.
[The words "I would do anything" hang heavy, but Char has heard them before, in many mouths, for many reasons. They rarely ended well. He releases the last trace of tension in his wrist, now freed, but he doesn't step back. His lingering gaze is sharp and unyielding, but not dismissive. If Fandaniel expects to be indulged, he might be disappointed— Char's terms are far from easy. He will go out of his way for those who work with him, but what he expects in return is an equal level of commitment.]
Earn it by proving you can stand without leaning on me like a crutch. Show me you're more than a man begging for the grave.
[His voice carries no malice, only the weight of expectation. He's seen what obsession makes of men. He won't play executioner to another collapse, not when the proof of will lies in choosing life, even against despair.]
If you want my attention, then live in a way that demands it. Anything less, and you'll only ever be chasing shadows.
[ It's puzzling. Fandaniel doesn't feel as though he uses the man as a crutch. He still... functions? Outside of their interactions, causing his little problems, concerning those who, for some insane reason, view him fondly, and continuously picking fights with certain people. He needs Char for none of that. He still does things.
But every time he thinks about Char or sees Char or— ]
My, I believe you were more fun when you were intent on stuffing me into dresses. [ As well as stuffing other things, but he won't be outwardly crass for once. ] Must I contain my desire to be near you, then? It only ever draws me towards you, and I cannot help but want to make you mind me and only me.
Contain it if all it does is pull you into obsession. I won't be chained down by it.
[He's got ✨commitment issues✨ after all.
While the tone he takes is far from cruel, it leaves little room for misinterpretation. What he demands isn't possession, but proof of will. If Fandaniel wants his attention, he'll have to show it in the way he lives, not the way he clings.]
Live in a way that commands my regard. Do that, and you won't need to ask whether I'll look your way.
[ Fandaniel echoes the words. That's so... silly! Ridiculous! He wants to protest! He shouldn't have to do anything of the sort, and yet! Yet! He said he'd do anything, anything at all, for this man, to get this man to kill him.
As much as Char tries to part him from the very notion, it is impossible, but it doesn't mean he can't keep a handle on the violent little man with it.
He goes through a few different expressions, most of them negative, until he settles on something more neutral, more curious. ]
How will it be, then? You shun me while I behave and sit politely like some nice boy?
[only if he can he do donuts with the fandaniel bike
Some men are simply impossible to please, Fandaniel. Better to assume there's no satisfying Char than to scheme up ways to guarantee a swift and painless death by his hand.
He waits in patient silence while Fandaniel settles on an expression, on how to feel after being reprimanded for his little tantrum. Char can't be too harsh when the same madness sits inside of him, a mixture of his own deep-seated neuroses and what was borrowed from Fandaniel.]
Make productive use of your anger. Don't let it control you.
There are better causes to point a blade at than Solomon, whose only crimes are his obnoxious tendency to speak in half-truths and dole out silly nicknames. I won't profess to care for him any, but I doubt he did enough to truly warrant your outburst.
Anger? Anger. Anger. No, it is hate, to the very bone. Too easy it is to strike out against any of these pointless little lives, and Solomon was no different. If anything, he's worse, for the sin of being far too similar in age, in experience, in knowledge. Seeing him and Nishi banter so easily had been... ]
Dole out silly nicknames?
[ Wait, was that all it was? Here, Fandaniel pauses. Surely there was more to it. They must have... No? Were they not on friendly terms? ]
You don't profess any care... Truly? [ He eyes the man, trying to find a lie, a falsehood meant to safeguard Solomon, but he isn't sure. ] Come now, there must have been something. I do not imagine such trysts.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Fandaniel isn't oblivious to the warning lingering in the air. He can feel it, how heavy it hangs over their heads, but it won't convince him to do anything other than laugh as he says that. Certainly, he won't use the name again, if that's the case, but it doesn't change the insane urge to have something from the man who should be his and his alone.
The gentle touch on Nishi's wrist becomes a hold as he grabs onto it instead, grip tightening. ]
Oh, no, not only the name. How he looks at you. Talks to you. How he spent the night with you. I am no longer willing to share; thus did I make sure he knew exactly how I felt about him and you.
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If he settles at all.]
So you overstepped. You didn't just lose your composure— you acted on irrational feelings and hurt someone needlessly. Tell me... how did you imagine I would respond? Did you hope I'd be proud of you? Or was it enough just to cry out for attention?
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His grip tightens further, almost painfully, and he surges to his feet with a grimace. His side burns with pain, a reminder of where Solomon gave as good as he got during their little skirmish. ]
Needlessly? Needlessly?! Solomon has been a thorn in my side from the very start of this little game! I restrained myself until I saw you... and him... Looking so friendly with one another...
[ Were they? Or was Fandaniel being delusional, seeing what wasn't there? He yanks at Char's wrist, trying to force him close to him. ]
I want you to look only at me. Only me until the time comes for you to finally kill me.
[ He's certainly pushing it. Without his magic, Fandaniel is nothing more than a small man with, perhaps, a fit enough build, sure enough, but he is no fighter. He is no Char. He's certainly in no real position to make demands, and yet he does, because he cannot help it. He feels desperate for his attention. He wants, and it has been so long, so very long since he has wanted anything or anyone at all. ]
no subject
For all his bluster, Fandaniel is trembling, not from power, but from want. Char recognizes it immediately. He's seen men beg for war, for peace, for recognition. This is no different. Another plea disguised as arrogance.]
You mistake obsession for resolve. Forcing my gaze won't keep it.
[He twists his wrist just so, testing the weak link in Fandaniel's hold. His tone drops lower, colder, yet not without weight.]
If what you want is my attention, earn it with more than jealous tantrums. I don't give myself to those who claw at me.
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The need for this man is a foreign intrusion, and it isn't as though he doesn't see that; the dilemma lies with how it allows him to finally feel something, something that isn't hate and misery, and to fight it feels horrible. He wants to want. He wants to desire. It's just unfortunate that Char has ended up being the focus of all of it. ]
Then what would you have me do to earn it? [ He's curious, at least, though he does doubt Char's requirements will be something he can easily meet. ] You know I would do anything. I already told you.
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Earn it by proving you can stand without leaning on me like a crutch. Show me you're more than a man begging for the grave.
[His voice carries no malice, only the weight of expectation. He's seen what obsession makes of men. He won't play executioner to another collapse, not when the proof of will lies in choosing life, even against despair.]
If you want my attention, then live in a way that demands it. Anything less, and you'll only ever be chasing shadows.
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But every time he thinks about Char or sees Char or— ]
My, I believe you were more fun when you were intent on stuffing me into dresses. [ As well as stuffing other things, but he won't be outwardly crass for once. ] Must I contain my desire to be near you, then? It only ever draws me towards you, and I cannot help but want to make you mind me and only me.
no subject
[He's got ✨commitment issues✨ after all.
While the tone he takes is far from cruel, it leaves little room for misinterpretation. What he demands isn't possession, but proof of will. If Fandaniel wants his attention, he'll have to show it in the way he lives, not the way he clings.]
Live in a way that commands my regard. Do that, and you won't need to ask whether I'll look your way.
[
It's alright, Fandaniel. Char is a car guy too.]no subject
what about a dope ass motorcycle guy tho :(]In a way that commands your regard?
[ Fandaniel echoes the words. That's so... silly! Ridiculous! He wants to protest! He shouldn't have to do anything of the sort, and yet! Yet! He said he'd do anything, anything at all, for this man, to get this man to kill him.
As much as Char tries to part him from the very notion, it is impossible, but it doesn't mean he can't keep a handle on the violent little man with it.
He goes through a few different expressions, most of them negative, until he settles on something more neutral, more curious. ]
How will it be, then? You shun me while I behave and sit politely like some nice boy?
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only if he can he do donuts with the fandaniel bikeSome men are simply impossible to please, Fandaniel. Better to assume there's no satisfying Char than to scheme up ways to guarantee a swift and painless death by his hand.
He waits in patient silence while Fandaniel settles on an expression, on how to feel after being reprimanded for his little tantrum. Char can't be too harsh when the same madness sits inside of him, a mixture of his own deep-seated neuroses and what was borrowed from Fandaniel.]
Make productive use of your anger. Don't let it control you.
There are better causes to point a blade at than Solomon, whose only crimes are his obnoxious tendency to speak in half-truths and dole out silly nicknames. I won't profess to care for him any, but I doubt he did enough to truly warrant your outburst.
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isn't that what bikes are forAnger? Anger. Anger. No, it is hate, to the very bone. Too easy it is to strike out against any of these pointless little lives, and Solomon was no different. If anything, he's worse, for the sin of being far too similar in age, in experience, in knowledge. Seeing him and Nishi banter so easily had been... ]
Dole out silly nicknames?
[ Wait, was that all it was? Here, Fandaniel pauses. Surely there was more to it. They must have... No? Were they not on friendly terms? ]
You don't profess any care... Truly? [ He eyes the man, trying to find a lie, a falsehood meant to safeguard Solomon, but he isn't sure. ] Come now, there must have been something. I do not imagine such trysts.