Sure. If you say it a bunch of times, that makes it true. So that's one--do you wanna get a few more reps in right now, or you wanna just let it happen organically throughout the day?
Fuck that, man, everything is fucking chemicals, everything we fucking do is chemicals. Love and arousal and sex are only as important as literally every other fucking thing, so like--either treat like a big deal like every other big fucking deal, or if it doesn't fucking matter, just die.
You don't have to be a bastard genius about this. You're allowed to have fucking feelings about it.
I don’t want to need … anyone else. That’s what I want to turn off. I just want to be by myself. I don’t want to want … kissing. Or hand holding. Or body heat. Or … love. Or any of that.
...It is. Just like guts. Just like your organs, and that's how much you need those feelings too. You don't have to get rid of it, you have to protect it. Like your bones protect your guts.
[ ... ]
...I'm not gonna say last night was like a great example of protecting yourself, but--y'know. Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater.
I dunno, man, slutty was the name of the game. It was--literally the theme of the night. If anyone thinks worse of you and they were there? They're a fucking hypocrite.
How rich would I get betting you're worried about someone?
You're kidding me. Junpei, I have not seen anyone slut it up as much as House did last night. He's got no ground to stand on if he comes for you. He's got like a bog to sink into. Like a cum bog.
[ Sorry if that's gross, but who can say he's wrong?! ]
[ Quentin certainly wasn't immune to the charms of food and drink last night either, so it takes him a while to pull up the memory, but he gets there after a few seconds: ]
Oh--Danny.
[ Pay no attention to the frisson of fluttering behind the connection. ]
Listen, he was slutting it up, too. Me too. Like--everyone. I don't think he's gonna hold it against you.
[ He needs a minute to sigh, to rub his temples ruefully and weigh how much of this he wants to address in a deep way. Maybe this first and foremost: ]
Look, if you want to again. I'm--we hang out all the time, it's not like an imposition or anything. And fuck if I'm letting you practice with House or something.
Well, yeah, you finally noticed I'm cute, so you're officially screwed.
[ He'll leave it there for a few minutes, taking his time to remove a collection of jars for dusting. But they are friends--maybe better friends now with a few things out on the table. He can't just leave this alone, but at least he's more delicate about his approach: ]
[ It’s a struggle to hold back the groan he’s letting out in reality from entering the telepathic link. Maybe burying his face even deeper into the mattress will help in addition to covering his head with his blanket for good measure. A useless shield from the embarrassment he feels coming down the pipe. ]
I dunno, the same thing it means anywhere. Did he take advantage of the fact that you're nuts for him and he's a horndog and he could get away with it to--push you? Last night.
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[ But he’s suddenly feeling like he’s being too vulnerable. That’s not good. Have to pull back in some. ]
Whatever. It was going to happen here eventually, right? It’s not like it means anything.
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[ Oh he’s just on a roll now, sounding like Quentin isn’t the only one he’s trying to convince, and talking exactly like freshly arrived Junpei. ]
And arousal and … love are brain chemicals. There’s no point in assigning them deeper meaning. They just are. It’s the metabolism of the soul.
[ But there’s a falter at the end. It’s harder to say it now. ]
cw: allusion to suicide
Fuck that, man, everything is fucking chemicals, everything we fucking do is chemicals. Love and arousal and sex are only as important as literally every other fucking thing, so like--either treat like a big deal like every other big fucking deal, or if it doesn't fucking matter, just die.
You don't have to be a bastard genius about this. You're allowed to have fucking feelings about it.
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[ Tired. In pain. Nerves raw. Being deliriously ridiculous. ]
Feelings have caused me nothing but trouble since I came here! If I could just … turn them off … I’d be fine. Everything wouldn’t be so … stupid!
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[ ... ]
...I'm not gonna say last night was like a great example of protecting yourself, but--y'know. Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater.
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[ A groan into his mattress. ]
I’ve been just trying to focus on work. It’s been going … fine. Then I die and the first thing that happens when I come back is … that.
[ Then, lower. ]
Everyone is going to think I’m a slut.
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How rich would I get betting you're worried about someone?
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[ Danger alarm is sounding. Quick throw out a distraction. ]
… who was that guy?
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[ Sorry if that's gross, but who can say he's wrong?! ]
What guy? Another someone?
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[ Especially reminding him how many other people he slept with! ]
A guy said he was friends with you and told me not to … go wild. Ugh, remembering the stuff we talked about … you have to tell him I’m not like that.
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Oh--Danny.
[ Pay no attention to the frisson of fluttering behind the connection. ]
Listen, he was slutting it up, too. Me too. Like--everyone. I don't think he's gonna hold it against you.
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[ He hasn’t forgotten that part. ]
But if you’re sure …
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[ He needs a minute to sigh, to rub his temples ruefully and weigh how much of this he wants to address in a deep way. Maybe this first and foremost: ]
Look, if you want to again. I'm--we hang out all the time, it's not like an imposition or anything. And fuck if I'm letting you practice with House or something.
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Stop bringing him up.
[ His imagination causes the hickey to pulse as the idea of the doctor wanting to be intimate again spawns a pleasant, excited tickle. ]
I … hate that I can’t get myself to turn you down.
[ Huffed out in that funny, fussy Junpei way that says he doesn’t hate it at all. ]
You’re so annoying.
[ -ly cute. With soft lips and talented hands. ]
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[ He'll leave it there for a few minutes, taking his time to remove a collection of jars for dusting. But they are friends--maybe better friends now with a few things out on the table. He can't just leave this alone, but at least he's more delicate about his approach: ]
Can I bring him up one more time?
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Why?
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He wasn't weird with you, was he?
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[ Did he say that convincingly enough? How in the hell had Quentin figured it out? Damn it damn it damn it. Who else knows? ]
If we did anything, it was for the same reason I did anything with anyone else last night - AND I’m an adult. I can … do stuff with other adults.
[ That was maybe a bit too much. ]
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cw: allusions to past violent abuse
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🎀