cacophonish | DUPLICITY: INBOX

He tries to picture Chuckles, and he can't help but grin. It's all so fascinating, an insight into a world that's so... fantastic. Demigods and mythical creatures. He used to dream about that stuff when he was little, encouraged by his mom and the endless fairytales she'd pull out of her head.

He'd forgotten what it was like, to feel like any of that was possible. And he has so many questions, about godparents and purviews and everything, just on the tip of his tongue... Jeff opens his mouth, then stops himself, and changes gears.

"You sound like me," he remarks, the observation coming out blunt thanks to the alcohol. Jeff's smile fades a little. It's weird, being on the other side of that. "Why do you think everyone's smarter than you?"

Bash shakes his head slightly. "You don't need to worry about me, you know? It's...not a big deal. I'm here to take care of you, alright?"

But what's in his voice is fear, more than reassurance, as much as he tries to hide it under a smile. Even hearing Jeff point out that he's been there doesn't really give him the space to just...talk about all his own bullshit.

Part of it is the designation bullshit. He's the Dominant, so it's clearly, clearly just his job to be responsible for Jeff, to take care of him and never stumble. Not all of it's that, though. It's an old wound--people who feel like they're just stupid, it's so often something that starts as a kid, as a bad student for whatever reason.

He's not so drunk that he misses the... fear or anxiety in Bash's voice, even if he doesn't know where, exactly, it's coming from. The responsibilities of Dominants, and how that might weigh on a person, isn't something he's really put much thought into.

"I know I don't... seem like I can handle a lot--" Since he's, well. A messy, emotional, impulsive disaster. "--but I can, or-- I want to be able to, if you need it--" Ugh. It feels like ages since he's been able to offer this to anyone, his headspace being the absolute catastrophe that it is. "It can go both ways, is what I mean. Taking care of each other..."

And maybe there's something defiant in his voice when he adds, "Anyway. I think you're smart. Smarter than me."

It's sincere, but-- he's been on that side of things plenty of times. Jeff huffs out a breath. "I know it doesn't help. I wouldn't believe it if anyone said that to me, but. I do mean it."

Bash lets out a heavy, ragged sigh, and holds onto Jeff for a moment without speaking, turning his face in toward Jeff's shoulder.

"Maybe between us we don't need to figure out who's smarter, huh? Like...it doesn't matter, not really. It's not like someone's gonna make us take a test or anything. I hope. I really fucking hope. But maybe we can get to just be a couple of dumb fucks. Or something."

There's so much responsibility that's been heaped on Bash since he learned who his dad is. He doesn't get to be a dumb fuck, back home.

Here's maybe different. Only maybe.

"Okay." He nods and tilts his head to plant a kiss on the other man's head. "It's a deal. Besides, if anyone tries to get me to take a test, I'm gonna set the fucking thing on fire."

No tests ever again. He dropped out of school for a reason.

"Hey." Time to lighten the mood. "Wanna see a trick?"

"Only if you're sure you're okay to do the trick safely, in your current state." There's a teasing undertone there. "You're still sloshing when you move, sweetheart."

"Noooo, I'm totally fine, I got this," he insists with a wave of his hand. Well. It's more of a boneless flop of his hand. But he's fine, really! "I've cast while way more shitfaced back home..."

And so he starts to hum, like he's tuning his voice, finding the right frequency to commune with the Gift. Soon, he's singing-- Patti Smith, Dancing Barefoot-- because it's an easy melody to work a few spells to. From across the room, one of the empty bottles tips over and goes rolling across the floor (oops), but Jeff doesn't miss a beat, just seems to focus a little harder as he sings and-- ah. There. The lights go out. And in the dark, new lights form on the ceiling, casting a dim glow in the room.

It's almost like they're laying under a starry sky.

"That's better."

"Oh." It's quiet and awed, a very honest response as Bash stares up at the ceiling for a long moment, the smile on his face almost childish in its pure delight. "That's amazing."

And it's all Jeff's, not some divine legacy thrust upon him. Born of his love of music and desire to make the place a little prettier. Bash is almost jealous. He relaxes, still wrapped lightly around Jeff, but not supporting him quite so heavily.

"Not just a trick, that's real cool."

Jeff's got a smile on his face, sweet and relaxed and beatific, as he looks up at the "stars" on the ceiling, then shifts his gaze to look at Bash. The delighted look on the other man's face makes his insides go all gooey, and he's just purely happy for one moment. However low he was feeling earlier, this is the exact opposite of that.

How long has it been since he's felt... light like this? It won't last. It never does. But at least he can forget about the bullshit of his life, just for a little bit.

Jeff rests a hand on Bash's chest, drumming his fingers lazily.

"I do this whenever I wanna see the stars." It's a habit he had even back home. LA's night sky didn't exactly offer a clear look at the cosmos. Of course, the Down's even worse. There's not even a sky here. "Most of my magic's like this. Um... lights and fluff."

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