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Sorting the Trash [ closed ]

WHO: Jon & Tony
WHERE: On the Agrii ship // Mess Hall
WHAT: Two experts at sharing and expressing their emotions need to talk...
WHEN: Post-event // during the flight back to Agra 10
WARNINGS: This may not go well?

Normally, Jon doesn't shy away from confrontations and conversations, but just like any other person ever he isn't very fond of talking abut his emotions. Which is but one reasons of many why he has never been one to seek relationships or the closeness of other people. Though these days he is also inclined to say he doesn't deserve it. The intimacy, the closeness, the comfort and warmth - Those are for people, not for monsters. And ultimately, that's what he is, isn't it? Ans monsters don't deserve love or comfort or happiness.

It may be time he just stops pretending and finally embraces what he is, just as Helen kept suggesting.

And yet his heart keeps yearning. It's not pleasant. It hurts. The distance as well as the insecurity. It may only be him, though. Tony may not be bothered by the separation at all. He has others. Others who are willing to play along merely to satisfy their carnal desires, unbothered by that dreadful weight of unrequited emotions and one-sided affections. Jon for his part has never been very interested in these particular activities - And it's the least thing he wants to have himself reduced to.

With all those thoughts and many more it is that Jon sits in one of the far corners of the mess hall, wringing his hands on the table, waiting. Waiting for Tony to follow the request he has left for the man to meet him here so they can finally have that talk.

Jon has made sure to listen to one of his tapes once everything was over, so he has recovered a decent degree. He's still tired and still keeps himself wrapped in that ridiculous bright robe that has offered him false warmth and comfort so far, but has also only wound the wrench around his heart tighter with that still so painfully familiar smell clinging to the fabric. He could have left it in his room, yes. But part of him feels like he may need this false security. And part of him may actually still dare to hope. Which even Jon believes is a foolish endeavor at this point.

Tony doesn't love him. The man has made as much clear. The man cares more about robots and machines than people who at best exist to serve his lust only to be discarded after use. Jon knows as much and it's foolish to expect anything else. Demanding loyalty as Tommy has suggested would get him laughed at at best. Such would require Tony to care. And so Jon is here for the closure others have suggested he seek. He only needs Tony to confirm what Jon believes to know. He needs the man to say it and just rid Jon of those hopes he shouldn't be clinging to. They won't have to speak to one another ever again after that. Jon can return to his library and Tony can resume rotating between his various lovers and his machines.

Biting his bottom lip at the thought, Jon looks down at his own hands, now clenched tightly together and he lets out a frustrated groan while prying them apart and considering to just get up and leave and if he's quick enough maybe not have this conversation after all?

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It's either him not listening properly, or Tony making himself difficult to understand. That detail still needs to be figured out between them. Though as it looks, they will be having that chance?

"I- I will do better." Jon offers in a voice made of soft determination. He wants to reach out and touch Tony. To coax the man's hands out from where they are hidden. To reach up and run his hands through the man's hair and cradle his head and just- Just hold him close. To feel that warmth and closeness and just breathe it all in.

He doesn't reach out, though. Instead, Jon holds his hand in front of the table before them both, palm up in a wordless offer for Tony to take it - To take Jon back. A physical confirmation of all those words that were just spoken. All those little promises that were made. Jon can only offer himself. It's up to Tony to accept him.

These aliens surrounding them likely had been watching their every move since they each arrived, based on the records on board, but Tony still took in Jon's offer on the table with cautious anxiety, not sure if he meant to make this a public statement or just one for Tony. Looking away like he had nothing to do with it, Tony slid his further hand out under his arm to capture Jon's, pulling it into the tight fold of Tony's arms against his chest with a distant pout. The journey from Agra 10 had felt painfully long without the ability to send Jon an impulsive text when he saw something he wanted to fix, or a star formation he thought he recognized, or the thousand offers he had composed when trying to buy him a gift, and even longer for not getting an record of his rich voice in return, and the relief from the tension in this action almost had Tony pouring that backlog out to him. If that portal that Ga Re had promised would let them travel home had worked, Tony didn't know how much worse that would have gotten. He might have ended up writing letters to someone who didn't exist anymore like Cayde. He tapped at Jon's hand, and in a flat voice that didn't sound nearly apologetic at all, said, "Sorry you didn't get to go home." That was incredibly selfish, he could have at least tried to sound more genuine, so Tony tapped at Jon's hand again like that was an apology.

The Agrii surrounding them don't really bother Jon. There is little to hide from them at this point and- He's just bad at keeping secrets. Which maybe makes sense, all things considered.

Though Jon blinks at first when Tony turns his head away, and for a moment he worries that he has said something wrong - Only to find his hand captured and pulled in wordlessly. Almost as if Jon - or anyone - wouldn't notice just because Tony isn't looking. It actually does earn the man a soft, almost inaudible chuckle from the Archivist. Jon won't complain about the display. In fact, he's happy with this little piece of closeness he finds himself treated to.

Tony's words do little to rattle the gently smile Jon regards him with, the fingers of his free hand playing with the hems of the robe idly. He shakes his head. "I couldn't have left without at least talking to you, Tony. And now- I'm glad it's not an option I need to consider." There's a short pause here in which his hand gathers the fabric of the robe thoughtfully. "I think I would have felt guilty for deciding against returning to Earth..." Then again. Time is said to not move on while they are here. So no one is really missing any of them at the moment.

Regarding Jon thoughtfully over his shoulder, Tony had to acknowledge, "You could have gone anywhere," assuming that possibility hadn't been a lie all along, too. It was curious that finding this choice taken away from him absolved Jon of that guilt, because Tony couldn't shake his, but it was both gratifying to know Tony hadn't been unique in this consideration, and frustrating that they hadn't been able to talk about it when they felt up against it. That had been a dreadful walk for Tony. "It would have been nice to sleep in my bed again, though," he lamented with a sardonic smile, taking Jon's cue to at least stop considering it a choice he had to make for now, "My back has never felt worse." He was used to luxury, and was getting too old for roughing it, even if roughing it by Tony's standards included what the Agrii considered a reasonable pillow. While Tony's choice had included those kind of creature comforts, he knew Jon's was between a familiar demon and this apocalypse, and Tony raised his eyebrows in a question, wondering if there was anything Jon actually missed from home.

Edited (the language persists) 2020-08-30 00:06 (UTC)

"Easier accessible cigarettes." Jon answers without a pause, but with a short glance upwards. "And a proper pub." That would be a nice change of things. He can do without having to face an apocalypse or having to deal with everyone he knows turning away from the monster he is becoming. "Also... I have been anywhere. It's not worth the headache or the pain. It's... I just prefer knowing where I am." Not that they know exactly where Agra 10 is just yet, but they are on an Agrii ship and in actual contact with the Agrii at long last. They are finally getting answers!

His smile turning into a small grin, Jon reaches over his still free hand to give the back of Tony's shoulder a light pat. "How about we find that planet again that we stopped at for a while and see if we can make some trades to get you some proper bedding? You have been sleeping on the floor in the forge for how long now...?"

Tony should have anticipated that answer better, making him snort and start to nod before asking incredibly seriously, "These guys don't smoke?," like cigarettes should have been an easy find in the canteen of a group of beings who generally seemed to like the crust cut off of their sandwiches. The pub was more of a revelation, since Tony understood Jon to avoid anything that involved casually talking to other people outside of work hours, and would definitely be a more difficult energy to replicate for him. Cayde's bar, at its peak effectiveness, would still be a cycle of the same dozen people in what Tony anticipated as groups of four at maximum--a speakeasy, generously. "We can find a way to get Jonny D'Ville that attention he's been missing, surely," Tony decided this must have meant. That was much more fun than thinking too hard about one of Jon's stranger traits, lacking the curiosity to explore somewhere new, and this conversation had been hard enough on Tony's heart to deal with the concept that this likely stemmed from most of the new places being experienced during a kidnapping. That would probably sour the idea for Tony, too.

"Too long," he agreed about his bed situation, but he was squinting thoughtfully, not eager to return to the planet that started his violently short-lived binge. That wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat, and he already was mapping exactly where he could find more of that drink to continue the binge as he had intended, at the suggestion of returning. "What about we take a trip back with those furry guys?" he suggested instead. "They could have some cool shit. Failing that, I do like a bearskin rug, always very seductive." Their achieved ceasefire hadn't appealed the Graq to Tony much, without the nebulous details of the encounter that had sent Cayde and Jon back to the shuttle bay in that condition.

It may be a lot more about talking to people than watching the. Which he refuses to think of as hunting, even though in a way these things may be tied to one another for him these days. Though even that aside, the atmosphere of an actual pub is... It's not something simply replicated, surely enough. Tony's comment earns him a soft punch to the shoulder anyway. No, he isn't mad about having that name dropped on him again, just mildly flustered. It's with a very faint blush that he admits: "...a few of the Agrii have called me that." Which he has yet to figure out how to feel about.

But he sets those thoughts aside at Tony's suggestion to visit the Graq planet instead and Jon raises a brow, frowning slightly. "You're not turning one of the Graq into a rug." He points out, tone just serious enough for that one statement. "Aside from that- Sure. We can see what they have. Maybe they know how to make very soft pillows..." The thought trails off. No, Jon certainly wouldn't mind a soft pillow.

It made Tony laugh at first, between the punch and Jon's blush and the idea of the Agrii enjoying that angry concert, but he could think of three likely ways they could have even known about this sordid past of Jon's and Tony didn't love any of them. They might have been pawns in whatever this weird game was, too, but it wasn't as though the Agrii had been generous hosts, either--Tony was as eager to befriend them as he was the Graq. They wouldn't make very good rugs.

"Maybe they're prolific tobacco aficionados," Tony added, as long as they were dreaming up their ideal Graq society. "We've been on the wrong planet all along, this is our stop, we get off here and learn to spit." Tony's tight grip around Jon's hand had slowly eased, until he wasn't clutching around himself anymore and he propped his head up in his free hand, tilting his cheek into his palm to smile back at Jon. "Listen, I'm used to everyone knowing all the important stuff about me, but you said you didn't want any part of the celebrity game, and I can tell that gal in the corner has a Jon shrine in her room, don't look, too obvious, she's writing 'Mrs. Sims' in her little notes as we speak."

Whether or not Tony is holding on to Jon's hand doesn't really matter. At least not to Jon. Not now that it has regained its place over Tony's heart and he can feel the man's heartbeat and warmth through his shirt. His other hand is just resting lightly on Tony's shoulder while Jon listens to him speak, barely holding back a snort at the suggestion of them learning to spit.

Somehow it's not the most dreadful thought, though? Getting away from this all - The Agrii, their own worlds, just the two of them... A nice dream to have, at least.

It's with a little sigh and the faintest chuckle that Jon leans his forehead against Tony's shoulder and shrugs, shaking his head a little. "...and you'd think I of all people would have an easy time to get used to constantly being watched." He has been aware of Elias keeping a close eye on him at all times and somehow has been able to brush that off even after learning how the man's power works in that regard. That he can see through every eye, regardless if it's a real one or just part of a painting, sculpture or abstract illustration. The Eye itself doesn't even need any of that. It just constantly watches its avatar...

Tilting his head a little to the side, Jon glances up enough to catch Tony's look, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "So when do we want to visit the Graq?"

Tony might have been cautious about holding Jon's hand in the mess hall, but he gave far less consideration to reacting to Jon dropping against his shoulder, barely letting him rest there before pulling an arm around his neck with fingers scratching roughly through his hair, leaning on him as much as he drew Jon in to lean against his side. Since Jon didn't seem interested in the drink, Tony finally picked it up himself to taste, only to confirm it was exactly like his first experience with it and put it back down, "You're right, that's terrible, sorry about that," with a grimace. With everything Jon had already dealt with, he should have had a unique insight to what purpose there was to be so constantly scrutinized, but that reaction just seemed more tired, and Tony would have liked to have found something stronger to offer him. Coffee, at least; this was becoming a farce.

Dropping his arm loosely to dangle over Jon's shoulder, Tony gave a shrug, looking around the hall again with a different anxiety. There was a lot to do on this ship, in competition with a lot of space to see. "When I've figured out this engine, that won't take long," he declared, trying to find that balance. "We'll have to enlist one of the pilots. Poe won't mind...." Which should have been an easy suggestion that Tony was building in his twisting fingers, but they suddenly released, grasping at a different problem that made him clear his throat. Maybe this wasn't a great time to bring it up, figuring out what kind of boundaries were supposed to be between Tony and the people he slept with was a granular detail for a less tender moment. "Or Raphael. He seems nice. Have you met? He's a turtle." As though this was a personality trait.

"I know them both." Jon answers while his eyes drift to the cup filled with that strange alien beverage to Tony's hand, once again such a familiar weight on his shoulder. Another little thing he has been missing. "Met Poe back on Risa - We talked a few times. Raphael took over as pilot on the ship I was on after Bucky vanished..." That's a wording that still feels odd. Especially now that they have found Bucky as well as Cloud. Mysteriously vanished only to show up with hundreds of sleeping Agrii. What's bothering Jon most is that he has been present when both men vanished and he didn't see it happen. Especially Cloud vanishing from the bridge while everyone from their group was there as well...

He settles with a nod and gives Tony's chest a little pat as his eyes shift back to him "I can ask if either of them is interested in visiting the planet while you take care of the engine?" It's an offer.

Right, Bucky. The anxiety tipped again, the amount of problems to fix on this ship outweighing venturing to an unknown planet for a potential shopping trip, but it wasn't like Tony had any idea where to begin with a mysterious abduction and coma. He squeezed his fist tight to release it again, trying to let this go, and muttered, "Yup," only to very quickly continue, "Do you think that's what's been happening to everybody?"

Not a great thought, and not one Tony meant to linger on, so Tony continued, "Do they have to be conscious for you to...?" with a finger twirled by his head, already shaking negative because he was pretty sure an unconscious person couldn't answer questions, magical compulsion or not. Wanda's power sounded like it worked a little differently, though. He was letting it go.

Of course Jon notices the anxious shift in Tony. It tends to be most notably in the little changes of his posture and tone. It makes Jon shift a little closer physically while also tipping his own head to the side a little while his eyes remain on Tony, studying his every reaction. Jon shrugs with the one shoulder that isn't by now pressed firmly to Tony's side while the accompanying hand scratches soothing patterns against the back of Tony's neck.

"I don't know." He answers truthfully. "Never tried. Wouldn't feel right..." Though he doesn't believe it's impossible. It may be similar to extracting someone's knowledge forcibly. One of those things that hurt him as well. Though Tony wouldn't be happy to hear this is something he could potentially do in the first place.

He taps his index finger against Tony's chest without removing his hand. "You can't fix everything on your own, Tony. Especially not if you're damaging yourself trying." It's a simple thing to point out, especially how easy it feels for Jon to tell just what Tony is thinking. "We'll take a break from this first, then figure out the rest." It's a lot easier, obviously, to make sure others take care of their needs than minding one's own. There's another tap to Tony's chest before pointing out another little detail. "I highly doubt they can watch everything we do on the Graq's home planet."

It would likely only get Jon to swear at him more if Tony asked how right it felt to compel Reeve for answers; if Tony was going to fix that fracture, he would probably do better work at a distance. It made him raise his eyebrows, ready to be defensive, when it sounded like Jon was reading his mind, but there were plenty of things Tony was trying to fix at this table. It didn't feel like he had dented the surface of any of them. "Break from what?," he wondered, gesturing out at the room and searching for what good he could point to accomplishing. "Getting the Graq home? None of these guys blowing up?" Well, now that he said it out loud, it didn't sound like a total failure; nobody died, they had all effectively completed the Agrii's mission statement out here, and somewhere between that realization and Jon's scratching at his neck, the humming tension up his back uncoiled to at least a lower register. It was the ragtag team of He-Rows that Tony felt like he hadn't helped at all, and was sitting on yet more questions and bigger problems.

He let out a breath and gave a nod of determination, right, a break, then started to laugh. No one was watching, loud and clear, and Tony welcomed, "You know what, engine's not even that complicated, in'n'out, you can give the pilot a call right now, I'm already packed."

Jon's mind reading abilities aren't nearly as advanced as Toy may believe them to be. He may know certain things from time to time, but actively reading someone's mind is still a taxing task for the Archivist. This may be something he gets more of a handle on at one undefined point in the future.

But for Tony and his constant need to fix everything Jon really doesn't need any mind reading abilities. He also doesn't interrupt Tony in his musings to offer an actual answer on his own, rather giving the man the time to figure it out on his own. As far as Jon is concerned, it's not difficult to see: Tony needs a break from literally everything. To simply be able to take his mind of everything and maybe earn a new angle of looking at all those issues.

Then he only needs to allow Jon to help him figuring out how to tackle them - One at a time.

The scratching of his fingers pauses when Tony laughs and it's Jon's turn to raise a brow. But he simply smiles at the response he gets in the end. "Glad to hear that. I will ask Raphael if he's willing to take the Vanquish to the Graq's home planet." Mainly because that's the ship Jon has been assigned to himself and he feels most familiar with it.

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