Distant
#1
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Backdated to November 29 >.>

WARNING This thread contains: strong language and a sexual reference... That is all >.>

More than a month had passed since Noss's arrival in Cour des Miracles. He had kept well out of anybody's way but Strel's, sticking close to the redhead or otherwise staying in or near what Strel called the Chien Hotel. Other wolves came and went, but they paid him no mind, so he did likewise. Instead, he spent his time bantering back and forth with Strel, watching the other wolf work with the cloth, and sharpening a stick. Yes, sharpening a stick. It was one of the most basic activities for a warrior to learn, and when Strel went out without Noss (not that the warrior minded; he couldn't be around the other man all the time) he needed something else to fill his time. He wasn't sure how Strel's other packmates really felt about him--especially when he used a knife to do the stick-sharpening--but he didn't really care so long as he didn't get Strel in trouble.


It was the morning before when the thoughts begin to take full form. I shouldn't be here... I should be out trying to find Ralla and bring her home, not getting involved with the natives... As much as he enjoyed Strel's company--every kind or taunting gesture, every piece of clothing he masterfully created, every word--it was those exact pleasures that scared Noss the most. He could not get attatched. He was to fulfil the boons he owed Strel and go home with his sister in tow, forgetting about Nova Scotia in its entirity. Could I really do that...? Thick-headed and proud, not even the warrior could deny or hide emotions forever. Only his sister knew how soft he could be, and how easily he would bend to her whims if she tried him hard enough. I can't let that happen with Strel. He could not let the other into his heart so much--not nearly as much as he had inattentively let the redhead already--for fear that if the other asked for more than the boons that Noss owed him, he would listen. It's not as if he's doing anything other than being a guide to AniWaya, and we were both satified with that night... He gains nothing from my being here. He does not truly need me here. If I start now, it won't hurt when I have to leave. Right...?


With stern resolve, Noss let the day pass as if any other, even as his words grew fewer. The night turned into day again, but he did not participate as openly as normal in Strel's comments, instead grunting and sharpening that same stick to a twig. At first, Noss had felt that his attempt at distancing himself from the other would work--a lie if he every heard one--until the tension in the sewing room later that evening was so thick that the knife Noss had could cut it.


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.



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#2
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500+
FFF I love drama that is not mine or in my life xD

It was... weird, having someone around all the time. Normally, Strel would go about his business, see Alaine in and out as she went about her own business as well. It was mostly empty at the Hotel, for whatever reason. He still went about his daily business - how could he not? - but he always seemed to have Noss in tow. At first, it was so strange having someone around to talk to all the time, to argue with, to laugh with. It was.. just strange. Then they both fell into routine and Strel realized he liked this kind of routine, where there was someone he knew would be around he could turn to. He hadn't felt that since he had left Michigan and he had left behind his siblings. He had friends here, oh yes, close friends, but they all seemed so far away from him, so difficult to reach. And sometimes, sometimes he felt like what he had to say was not worth their time. But Noss, Noss was always here.


He had gotten attached, oh he knew he had. Strel enjoyed the company, even if they argued now and then. Who didn't? But the part Strel dreaded, was the part when he realized he had become too attached, too used to the other's presence and it came time for him to leave. That was why he had not wanted to really send him on his way to his sister in AniWaya. At first it had been his laziness and lackluster desire to travel so far. Then it just became this.. desire to keep him here. Since Noss came to visit, the redhead realized just how lonely he had been. He missed Mati - he ought to pay her a visit soon. He missed Daisuke - Strel lost track of him, sadly. He missed the friends he had made in the past year. Where had they all gone?


But what was odd was just how much Strel enjoyed the constant presence of the other wolf, even if there was nothing.. nothing really going on between them. So he told himself, over and over. The redhead's track record was awful and the more he thought about it, the more he grew disgusted with himself.


Strelein had no idea exactly what Noss did when he was not around. He had been told something along the lines of "sharpening a stick" but the redhead shrugged it off as some weird metaphor and did not press the matter. But something must have happened, for suddenly, the beat was off, like someone had not properly tuned the instrument they had gotten into the rhythm of playing. Noss had been oddly quiet, less responsive, and more preoccupied with his damned stick. Strel clenched his teeth as he sewed a pair of gloves, maybe a gift for Niro? Or for Amaranth, so she could handle her mate's birds? Finally, after getting one wordless answer after another, Strel snapped. Slamming his fists onto the table, rattling the metal and plastic on it, he stared at the wood grain, body rather rigid. "Okay, what the fuck happened?" he swore, shooting his angry, and hurt, eyes at Noss. "What did I do to only get garbage answers from you?" Even to his own ears he sounded whiny, but he was hurt goddamn it. He had no idea what he had done. "Why the hell am I suddenly getting a cold shoulder?"


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#3
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Ditto, but, uh....does that make us bad people...? :x And yes; Noss can be a cold-hearted bastard ^-^ Thank god Strel has that sarcasm, or he'd be driven to punching Noss's lights out. ... Correction, he might want to do that now >.> I feel terrible for having to rp as Noss T-T


Noss had not been expecting the slam of the table, but although his ears twitched, he dared not move his eyes from the stick. He was afraid that if he looked into those lavender eyes, his will would break; that was how far gone he was. "You didn't do anything," he conceded. "This is just how I normally respond." That wasn't a complete lie; it was how Noss responded normally...to people he considered outsiders. It was his way of separating those he cared about--whether it was in kinship or anger--from those who he felt like he didn't need to concern himself with. This was completely flawed logic, as he still had his promise, and the other male was Noss's only safe ticket to AniWaya, but... So many 'buts'...


The larger one being 'but he did care for Strel'.


"I've been here for a month. If you could ask for your favor and take me to AniWaya, I'll be that much faster out of your hair." Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up, he chanted in his head, a mantra that barely kept the true sting of his words at bay. But denying the truth from even himself was hurting him. Oh, moon curse it. I don't care how long I've been here. He hated that he was treating Strel like an outsider, that he was pushing it all away, that he was making Strel's voice sound the way it did. Because...he wanted that month and all its time to stretch on; he wanted to stay there... And since wanting was a dangerous thing, Noss saw what he was doing the best for the both of them.


Maybe...


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#4
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300+
weeee

His dry laugh echoed in the room, full of cloth though it was. He gave a dark look at Noss before looking at the needles on the table. "That's just horse shit," he cursed, fists still clenched as an odd smile was on his face. This was more like Noss, answering with attitude. It seemed much more appropriate. Why had he gotten used to that? The two of them were not looking at one another, both for their own reasons. The redhead had no idea why the loner male was not looking at him, but he did not care, not wanting to assume anything. But he himself did not want to look at him because he was afraid to see anger there, for something he had done - if he had done something of course. But Strel's smile faltered as Noss finished with his words, requesting - forcing? - Strel to pick a date.


Finally, the redhead looked at the other man, an odd look in his eyes. Was that pain in them or was it anger? "You.. want to leave?" he asked, not entirely surprised. It had been a while and Noss had been here for a long time. Surely, he must want to see his sister now. Strel straightened up, ears almost twitching back as his fists weighted down his arms at his sides. "You don't like being here?" he asked again, lavender eyes looked down at the sitting man. "Did I do something to offend you? Or do you think I'm keeping you here against your will?" So he had never pressed the other to leave. That was no big thing, right? "If you wanted to leave so damn badly, you should have told me sooner that you didn't want to be here." With me... Strel gave Noss a weak smirk, betraying his confusion, hurt, and insecurity of his own self.


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#5
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*slaps forehead* Bad Noss, you made Strel upset. >~<


From his peripheral vision, Noss saw Strel's posture change, and he almost turned his head. At that point, a part of him so badly wanted to turn his head, just so he would have an excuse to be weak and give in. All he could do was hear the redhead, and that voice nearly broke Noss's resolve by itself.


"I have to," he said, voice still straight, a poker face donned as ever. Imperceptably, he felt that gaze weigh on him, and he wanted to look into those eyes. Of all of Strel, Noss liked his eyes best. They defined the man; sharp, quirky, sarcastic, handsome...his. That random thought burned brightly through Noss's conciousness; unbidden and totally not part of the plan. But when he thought about it, his anger grew when he even considered Strel belonging to another, even though he knew he had to leave. It was selfish, but that was how possessive Noss was. But he's...not mine, he corrected himself. It was like an internal war, and Noss was afraid that it would soon show on his face.


"If you wanted to leave so damn badly, you should have told me sooner that you didn't want to be here." That did it. Noss heard the hurt clear in those words, and all his fears of himself were confirmed when he did turn his head, see those eyes, and felt all resolve melt away. What's wrong with me? Being weak wasn't part of Noss's repetoire, but Strel seemed to make him break every time he tried to be strong. But why? They were the definition of each other's foils, and at the same time, Noss felt like he was home. In one month he had never felt more like he belonged, even as every reason and fact proved him wrong.


He wanted to get up and somehow comfort Strel when that smile didn't reach his eyes. Strel's smiles and smirks were always clear-cut, but this one was faltering and injured. He didn't know how he could make Strel understand without deciding to completely trash the whole 'return-to-pack-with-sister' bit. "Strel," Noss intoned, using all his warrior training to keep his voice even, "It's not that I don't like being here. But you know what I have to do." He didn't want to be so cold... Because at that point, he actually cared for this wolf, but whatever he said or did, he couldn't seem to make the right decision. Moon help me; what is right? He wished that he had a Shaman's words; they were always right, and they had always guided the tribe to safety.


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.



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#6
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300+
I needed a new damn table NOW xD
and I don't know why, but i want them to get .. "violent".

"Why?" So, what was the problem? Surely his sister could wait, especially since Noss had been content enough to wait a month to go searching for her. So why now? Why suddenly now? Surely, surely he had done something. Strel had to have done something that would make Noss want to leave now. But what? Last he checked, things were honky dory and the two of them were as cool as cucumbers. Maybe they got drunk recently and the other man remember it? But the redhead could not, just could not, remember a time when the two of them drank and lost their minds for a night. "Then why? Why would you stay here a whole month and then decide to go now?" he choked out. "What did I do?"

Strel was feeling his anger bubble forth, that familiar sensation. It was not one he liked feeling but he experienced it so often that it was hard to forget it. But Noss was being overly frustrating that the redhead could not help letting his temper start to claim his mind. Strel narrowed his eyes at the other man, arms crossing over his chest. Oh how desperately he wanted to scream out at him, calling him names, insulting him and his manhood, but the tailor bit it back, letting his sour look express it as best as he could. "Well then I'm not stopping you," he began, not sure where exactly he was taking this. "There's the fucking door." He pointed at the big doors that led into the hallway and then out of the hotel. "If you want to leave, it's open for you," he offered, rather bitterly. "I know family is important to you, so go and find your god forsaken sister. I don't want to look at you." Strel was well aware he was overreacting rather badly, and he ought to be beaten soundly. No, seriously. Soundly.


But he could not help but feel he was playing second fiddle to Noss's sister. And that just burned him up inside.


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#7
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"Violent"? Yikes 0.0 Domestic violence much XD But they're getting there @_@ Btw; sweet table; listened to the song and went 'Squee~! Add-to-ipod!'


Noss got up to stand in front of Strel when the redhead's voice broke, but when what he really wanted to do was hold the man's shoulders, his hands remained at his side, lost for what would be right. "You didn't do anything, Strel." Before he could continue on that thought, he saw Strel's face contort with mixed emotions, anger at the head. Noss matched that narrow gaze as he felt his own patience begin to run thin; both with himself (mostly) and with Strel's lack of understanding. When Strel pointed to the doors, Noss lost all control of his movements and reached out to catch hold of the wrist that was pointing him away, attempting to hold Strel firmly in place for fear that he might run.


"I know family is important to you, so go and find your god forsaken sister. I don't want to look at you." That really hit a nerve. As used to Strel's antics as Noss was, they had never really brought up Ralla or Noss's family much, and Noss wanted to know just what Strel's authority was on how important family was to him. But that wasn't fair to Strel, and Noss had remembered that small tidbit that Strel had shared with him that first night about his previous pack. That, and Strel's refusal to want to see him. That seemed to strike just as deep. "Too damn bad," he said as he got his face in close to Strel so that their eyes could lock. Noss was in his intimidating posture now; hackles raised, shoulders hunched--as if his height weren't an advantage enough--and eyes sharp. All coolness in his voice had vanished, and he let all his emotions pour forth. "Cuz I don't believe you." There was no way that Noss was as smitten with Strel without some kind of reciprocated feelings, especially with the way that Strel was reacting. No one got that upset over someone they didn't care about even a little bit. "I don't believe that you don't want me here, and you shouldn't believe that all I want to do is go." That dam of holding back true desires was breaking; chipping away with every word he said. "You shouldn't believe you did one damn thing wrong, and... Moon, how can I make you understand!?" His own frustration had reached its limit as he struggled for the right words, a snarl underlining his sentences that was not meant for Strel, but mostly for himself. Just three words; three small, short words that he did not want to say, but what he knew were true, that would crumble life as he knew it and change it without hope of return.


In short; so much for plan A.


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#8
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300+
Thanks Big Grin and guuuh i don't have it eiiither fml.

As soon as Noss grabbed at his wrist, the redhead let out an angry growl at the touch. He did not want to be touched right now, contrary to his usually mood of wanting to be touched. Jerking his hand, Strel tried to pull out of Noss's grasp, well aware of the differences in height, weight, and strength. It was all on the warrior male's side and the redhead was left out in the cold here. The most he could do was grab his needles and ram them into the man's arms. But sometimes, if he hit the correct point, it would do nothing but make him feel better. That was totally not the point here. "You fucking let go of me..," he began, knowing whatever threat he made after would be useless, pointless, weak. Strel could not back himself up.


Even with Noss dominating over him, the tailor did not back down. He was stubborn, as hardheaded as a mule, and twice as resilient. But the other man could still win. But Strel would give his goddamn all to not go down easy, however that defeat would go. Noss said he didn't believe him, and the redhead believed that. Nevertheless, the Marquis let out a growl, barely pulling his lips over his teeth. He would not match Noss's ferocity; he had his own, and that was his lavender eyes - a normally very gentle color - storming with anger at the other man. "Well, too damn bad," he repeated, hissing back at him. Again, Strel tried to pull his hand free so he could push away the loner and retreat somewhere else. Or shove needles into his skin. Whichever came first.


But Noss could hold him there for as long as he wished, easily. Strel's face fell as the man continued to talk, but he was still angry. It was going down, but not nearly fast enough. The emotion was rising between, especially when the tension snapped. It grew, grew, grew, and Strel kept his silence as he considered what Noss told him. Finally, tenor tones cracked the silence. He shut his eyes, turning his head away. "Didn't you hear me?" he started, voice dangerously low, "Go. You want to see your sister? Go. Head south west. Or ask someone along the way." Strel sounded bitter, rather bitter.


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#9
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FML? Foreign Management League? XD Nah, nah jk Tongue Btw, I noticed that some of what Noss is doing is kinda powerplay, but Strel can do it too :3 It would take a thousand posts if there wasn't a little bit of pp for both -w-


Noss only tightened his grip on Strel as he struggled, deciding now that he had made quite a few miscalculations...as an understatement. He hadn't meant for things to go down as they were; he had thought that he could just ease himself away from Strel and leave Cour des Miracles without hurting the redhead. Major, major miscalculations. The snarl that tipped the man's face didn't anger Noss as much as his own indecession; it made him worry. He had never seen Strel so pissed.


When he heard Strel's voice break, so did Noss. He couldn't deny anymore what he really wanted, and he decided that the moon could test him all it wanted, but he wasn't going to let go of Strel; in more than one sense. "No," he whispered, matching that low voice that had filled his days. Screw being able to get away from Strel unscathed by that voice or eyes or demeanor, screw leaving the packlands. Adrennaline pulsed through the gray wolf, noticing their surroundings, and was instantly wary of what would happen should one of Strel's packmates walk in and attack Noss on presumption. Instead, he made to bend down and lift Strel onto his shoulders. If he couldn't get those damn words out and Strel didn't want to listen, he would make the red wolf understand.


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#10
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Kind of short, 'msorry :x

Strel furrowed his brows, ears laying flat against his skull. Noss said no. No? How dare he! "Excuse me? No? No!?" The indignation in his voice was thick as he pressed himself against the wall, feeling the cold of the world outside on his back. A smart warrior would never have let the opponent back them into a corner like this, but Strel was never a fighter; his knowledge of tactics was limited to the most basic of instincts. The redhead gave another growl, watching the man kneel down before him and make a move to try and lift him on his shoulders. Strel could not contain himself then. If his anger had been greater, and if he did not care even a bit for Noss, then he would have easily kneed him in the face.


Strel dug his nails into the other man's shoulder, looking down at the top of his head. "The hell do you want!" he cried, shoving the other man away from him. "I said don't touch me!" The redhead soudned so very angry, so very pissy, far too much like a woman for his own liking. But his voice was low, not high. "You want to find your sister. Go. I am not stopping you, I'm not keeping you here," he repeated, a broken record. He did not want to hear what the tribesman wanted to say. Even if he heard it, he doubted he would comprehend it and actually listen to what the other man was saying.


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#11
[html]

*eyes own previous posts in various subjects* Not like I can complain on length of posts >.> Also, wait till the end of this post; sappiness warning Tongue DON'T READ AHEAD! XD


The digging in his shoulders might've hurt if Noss's winter coat were not so thick. He noted it, but whatever gentleness he might've shown in another circumstance was clouded by vexation. He was momentarily shoved away by Strel's arms, but he dove right back in to finish the deed. Wheras he would've turned away from any other upset wolf, he didn't care that the other man was throwing a tantrum. Moon, he couldn't handle tears or sadness from others at all, but he just wanted Strel's own anger to stop. He got the male wolf over his shoulder--with much protesting and wacking of arms on his back, which he knew he would feel later--as he walked them up to Strel's room.


Shutting the door, Noss threw Strel to the bed and pinned his arms there, forcing him to stay still. "But you are keeping me here," he growled out, the deep, infrasonic vibrations in his chest close to the rumble of an earthquake. "And I don't blame you for it. All I could think to do was try and get used to the fact that I wouldn't see you anymore, and you just had to completely blow it out of proportion!" He took in a deep breath and exhaled, looking off to the side with an exasperated face. "I'm not supposed to be here! I was supposed to find Ralla and go home. But you came along...! You're annoyingly straightforward, make everything into a joke, and overly energetic!" All the things he was supposed to dislike, and might've had it been anyone but Strel. "And I don't know why I don't care one bit! Look at me, Strel!" He was tired of trying to distance himself from the redhead; now he only needed Strel to reciprocate that. He no longer cared about what went on around them, only between. Moon knew what was going through his head, and only it could've explained this outburst. ...I'm starting to sound like a love-struck idiot, one part of him said, while the other retorted Because you are. Only knowing that Strel was there and that it was his wrists in Noss's hands reminded Noss that he was not dreaming and that he was about to make maybe the most foolish decision of his life. Why was he going to say it? Because I like all those bad and good qualities of his. Because there's no one like him anywhere else, and no one who could make me forget that I am a warrior so quickly. No one like him...


"Damnit, Strel; I love you!"

Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#12
[html]
300+
Strel takes a long time to convince + to confess.
Besides DRAG IT OUT. DRAG IT OUT.

Of course it did not affect the other man one bit. His strength was minuscule in comparison and Strel knew it all too well. Every man he ever met had been stronger than him; that's what he got for being a recluse. God, how he regretted not being more active outside. That was why he protested most soundly when Noss managed to get him across a shoulder as though the redhead weighed no more than a bolt of cloth. "You damned ass! Put me down!" he yelled, well aware he might disturb anyone already in the house and already asleep; he did not care. He was embarrassed! He was not some kid to just fling across a back and carry around. He had dignity! Okay, maybe not as much as that, but this was just too much. "Let me go, Noss! I mean it!" he threatened weakly, trying to run his nails up the other man's back in a vain attempt to free himself. Noss ignored it and Strel was stranded.


His attempts grew feeble but as soon as the other man threw him onto his own bed, did the redhead start his struggle once again. Trying to push up and away, Strel found his wrists forced down and clamped still. He was breathing hard, angry as he jerked his arms to try to pull his appendages free. What Noss said... reverberated in his head but the man did not comprehend a darn thing that he had said. He heard it, oh yes, but it just did not clicked, angry as he was. Stormy lavender eyes watched the other man's facial expressions, taking no pleasure from his frustration. It was all too much. He turned his head away and instantly Noss ordered him to look at him. He jerked his face back at him, lips curled down far.


As soon as Noss uttered those words, Strel's heart stopped beating. But then he realized it was just his anger forcing his blood to pound that much faster. He gave a barking laugh. "Love me?" he started, taking it all as a stupid, heartless joke. "How can you? We barely know each other!" he exclaimed, laughing at the absurdity of it all. "It's like you're laughing at me," added the man, harshly as his angry laughter subsided and he looked hurt and turned away. "Don't joke like that, that's some serious stuff to be saying to anyone." He didn't believe it, not for a minute. He almost stopped believing he could feel the same himself. Men had come and gone and few did anything to encourage him to believe love was possible. So he took this as a joke. Nothing more than a joke.



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#13
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0.0 Alright, dragging it out *cowers in a corner* (Not like I mind >.>/XD) *sighs* Now I have to put a 'Warning for M' in this thread too -w-'' Should I just do that for most of their threads, since their language and mannerisms aren't exactly 'classy'?


The minute those words were out of his mouth, deafening silence filled the room before Strel's laughter replaced it. At once, Noss was offended and angry and a whole mish mash of emotions that all centered in on a growing heat in his face. He felt like a young pup who just got rejected, and he did not like it one bit. Sighing, he lowered his head as he struggled to collect his thoughts, not without noticing how hollow the laughter was, or the crestfallen expression on the tailor.


"Does it look like I'm laughing? It's because I am serious," Noss continued. "I don't care how long we've known each other; I can learn more. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to say that...?" Of all times, Noss chose then to be embarrased. Strel was upset and hurt, and his nerves decided then and there to make Noss blush. Damn him... Never had Noss been pulled in a thousand different directions; into an entirely different pace in the blink of an eye. Then again, he had never spoken so many emotions in one go, either. "Just...what can I do to make you believe me...?" Tell you that I won't chase after Ralla...? That I'll stay in Cours? What else? Because after those three words, Noss was at a loss of what else there was. It was as straightforward as one could get, and Strel didn't believe him. He felt terrible, now, after losing his control and realizing just how upset he had made the redhead. But realization dawned on Noss as he looked into Strel's distraught face; what he had earlier speculated as 'caring a little bit' was obviously a lot more. The Strel he knew, if he didn't like him more than a friend, wouldn't look so hurt if someone had joked about love...maybe. Then, another revelation came.


"Is it because we had sex?" Noss asked with an uncharacteristically worried face as his eyes snapped wide. Was that why he was so disbelieving? Did he think that Noss only loved him for that? Or was it really just as simple as what they knew about each other?


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#14
[html]
300+
no.. no they're not classy at all.

"Nothing." One word was all that Noss would get, because that was completely the truth. Strel had no idea. These were not questions he could answer easily, even if he knew the answer. Whatever he could say might be taken as petty or as impossible, insulting. But he truly had absolutely no idea what it was that would prove that Noss was serious, because these things always, always seemed passing fancies. Him included. Love was fun to be in, but so often, so, so often it was a passing fancy. Strel looked at the pack and at his friends and saw just how many of them had their loves and he just never found someone to stick to him. Ayita and Vigilante, Mati and Cambria, Niro and Amaranth, and even Ever and Ezra. And he had a couple of one night stands. What a great resume.


"No," he responded simply, knowing he was letting Noss do more of the talking now; rather uncharacteristic of him. Normally Strel was the chatterbox and the other man was just nodding along or interject or answering here and there. Again, Strelein shook his head. He just had no real verbal answer to give. He shoved Noss out of his way, having forced his hands from the other man's hold in the lull in focus. But he did not get up, he just sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the floorboards. "It has nothing to do with that." He lied. He lied like he always lied. It had everything and nothing to do with it, all at once. He was weird about it - sex that is - ever since he had been half-raped his first time over a year ago. It had meant nothing to the other man then, and Strel had been on his own emotional island. This time, he was playing the boat the skipped by the castaway without a second glance. "You don't know me at all. And I don't know you at all. You can't deny that."


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#15
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Oh god, I might actually cry from the angst ;-;


When Strel wanted to move out from under Noss, he let him, sitting instead on the backs of his legs, looking hard at him. Disturbingly short answers were all that he was receiving from the man he had just confessed to, and thereafter from the confession, the anger had cooled to worry. Because after letting down that barrier of 'what ifs' and 'hows', Strel had officially become a part of Noss's inner circle. Noss would accept if Strel didn't ever want to see him again--he would still consider and treat Strel as a part of that inner circle--but he wouldn't go without a fight. "You're lying," he murmured, not daring to touch the man again unless he made to leave. Noss just looked at the back of his head and tried to figure out what was going on in there; what it would take. With all other wordly distractions gone for the moment, what Noss normally wouldn't have seen or noticed about emotions become so much clearer, and he felt that there was hope in the argument that they were having.


"Fine, we don't know what's happened in each other's lives up until one month ago. But I do know the Strel that I've spent one month with." He said Strel's name to make it absolute, if not only to harden his own resolve. He had and was committing to the man, forgetting all earlier plans of even attempting to leave things like they were. But then there was that obstacle that Strel didn't think the same way as Noss in that aspect; maybe Strel felt like they needed to know each other's pasts to make it real. "And I want to know more. I won't reject you," he said evenly, without a hint of deceit. They might argue or fight over some issues, but when it came down to it, Noss always saw Strelein as he was. He couldn't care less what Strel was like before he met him--well, he cared, but it wasn't as if it was going to change his mind--but he was afraid to ask if Strel wouldn't reject him if he knew all the things he'd done. Yes, afraid. The tailor was in such a paradox emotional state that he didn't know what was going to set him off, and Noss wondered if maybe...Strel was afraid too.


He moved slowly closer to Strel--still on his knees, still not touching--as if he were trying not to startle a herd of elk. For long moments he thought in silence, before a silly idea popped into his head. "When I was a pup, I ruined a hunt, thinking I could take them all down myself. My father drilled me in battle stances for days without stopping. I was in my first territory war when I was two, and I killed two wolves." The victory of battle he was proud of, not the deaths. He went on, listing those parts of his past to Strel in a dim hope that they would count towards what Strel needed. "But those things aren't 'me', are they?" He didn't know if that sounded right, and at that moment he wished hard that he had the eloquence of words that his mother and sister had... That Strel had, even if the words were so often twisted into humorous airs. In a way, he was fighting an uphill battle without a weapon to his name, and it made the prize all that much more important.


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#16
[html]
500+
Strel probably won't tell Noss he cares about him in that sense for a while :x

Strel gave a dry, dry laugh, hands clenching on the edge of the mattress. Was it so easy to tell when he was lying? Or did Noss's words actually have merit and a basis? No, couldn't be. There were plenty of things that Noss had no idea of nor any inkling of. And the fact that the redhead had been rather uncertain about where he stood with the other man, it caused his sleeping patterns to change as he accommodated for another person staying with him at the hotel. Lately, the nest of blankets the redhead had accumulated had been pushed off the bed as he tossed and turned in the middle of the night. Half of it was laying before him, all tumbled up. He leaned over in a sudden compulsive mood and took one of the lighter, smaller blankets into his arms. Holding it close, Strel twitched an ear at Noss as the man explained his first kills.


That did not really bother him as much as he would have thought once upon a time. That had been Noss' job and he could do nothing about it then, just like Noss should never be surprised when Strel cuts apart old outfits; it was just what he did. It meant nothing, either of these things, but the redhead felt that it was unrelated. There were so many more relevant things to be concerned with now. Shaking his head, Strel sighed as he lowered the blanket back into his lap. "No, and it has nothing to do with this. It doesn't bother me. But there are plenty of other things." Strel just didn't want to admit that he did not feel as strongly as Noss, or at least would not say he did, or anything close to it. He did not even know himself. He wasn't sure. Why risk it?


If Noss wanted to play this game, then Strel would oblige. Raising his head a little bit, eyes closed, the redhead put his thoughts together. "I am three and a half years old. I have slept with four men, probably more that I can't remember," he started, lowering his head back into the blanket. "Four of those men there was no relationship. One I was half-raped. Two of them are gone from the pack. One I lost track of. And the other nothing came of it." If that wasn't a good indication of his track record, then the redhead had no idea what was. "My record is rather bad. I wouldn't trust myself." There was plenty more to add, like how he was a drinker and how he could have sworn his most "unknown" couplings had to have been under the influence. If Strel knew what he had done when he was drunk, he would have spiraled into depression. If he knew.. if he knew he was a father, he would have probably lost his mind from the thought. Whatever he had done, he did not want to know about. But he still would not stop choosing to drink. What would Noss think of that?


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#17
[html]

To be expected; it makes it all the more interesting >;3


For as long as Noss could remember, his methods were 'go strong or not at all'. And no one could say he hadn't tried to go strong on the first plan. But now that the second plan was out in the open, the principle was going to hold. He saw the other man lean over for a moment, and he--infuriatingly--felt him tip forward a bit before he realized that Strel wasn't going to stand.


As Strel listed his past lovers--if one could call them that, by the sound of it--a secretive jealousy built inside Noss. It wasn't as if he had any right to be jealous; he had had some flings of his own. But the half-rape one caught most of his attention. He was more than jealous at that--rather, he would've taught the rapist a lesson if he'd known him--but instead he wondered just what Strel's face looked like as the wrinkles in the blanket increased, indicating the redhead's grip on it. But the confession made Noss realize just why Strel had been so disbelieving of his love. Of those four men, had they all said 'I love you'? Of them, had Strel been in love and betrayed? Strel was right in that they did not know each other as intimatly as perhaps Noss knew Naka, but Noss knew the foundation of where he stood; from there, he could build. Strel? Noss was afraid if his foundation was long broken.


He laid his ears back and bit his lip, fighting for what to do next. Strel's distrust of himself was what bothered him most, but Noss didn't know how to heal that. He was no healer in the first place; he had been trained and conditioned to fight, destroy, and hunt. He got off the bed with the silence of a seasoned hunter--perhaps with the bed lifting a great deal from lack of his weight--and knelt in front of Strel. He wanted to see the redhead's face, because Noss didn't know what to say. With slow restraint, Noss reached out his hands to cup Strel's face, waiting every second to see if he would push him away again. Strel was no young pup to be coddled and treated as if he were going to break, however much Noss felt that he might unwittingly do that to the redhead sooner or later. The novelty of caring deeply for someone was rare, and somehow, Noss wouldn't mind if he had to wait.


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#18
[html]
300+
kill me, work is slaughter Dx;

Noss moved and the redhead stiffened instantly, wondering what the man was going to do. The touch he thought he was expecting never came and the other man simply knelt before him. For a moment, Strel did not look at him, forcing his lavender eyes at the wall that Mati had so carefully painted for him, letting his mind go into the wonderful mural she made for him. Oh, how he wished he could disappear into the pigment and pretend none of this was going on. It was awkward and embarrassing for the redhead and he hated it. There was so much he could not control and this was just something that had spiraled out of his fingertips. But he had no way to vent his frustration, not in a civil nor appropriate manner for this kind of a situation.


The other man touched his face and the redhead's arms jerked at the surprising contact. His nails dug so hard and so suddenly into the blanket at that moment that he almost tore through it. Eyes shut, Strel knew he was facing Noss. Opening them for a moment, slowly raising them to look at the other man, the redhead knew his arms would shake if they were not so firmly planted where they were. By the time he was looking straight at another pair of eyes, a good few moments had gone by and Strel was aware of how painfully slow he had been moving.


"Can we not talk about this..?" he asked weakly, knowing that Noss would probably say no and delve deeper into something Strel was not prepare to hear or something he did not want to hear at all. "Can we talk about something else? Or.. go do something else?" Anything. Please. God he hated this, not being able to just meet this head on, like he always did. But this was an awkward situation and Strel avoided those like the plague.


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#19
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God, tell me about it -.- We should probably wrap this thread up in the next 2-3 posts, depending on what Strel does next :3 Thanks for all the loverly threads <3


He said he could wait, and he would. Strel had obviously been jumped--obviously--and Noss didn't want to push an issue that he could win with time. Strel wanted to do something else, and Noss would bend...this time. If ever Strel eased into the idea that Noss may actually love him, Noss wouldn't be so relenting in his pursuit anymore. As it was...


"Drink?" Noss asked nonchalantly while standing. He did not offer a hand, having a feeling that Strel would refuse it. He might yet still refuse Noss's offer. The idea of alcohol was not unknown to him--he had seen other luperci partake in it--although it was a foreign substance than what he had been brought up with. At first, he had thought the liquid poison; it had stung his throat and clouded his mind. But there he was, living. He knew that Strel sometimes drank the stuff, but he knew that some wolves took it in large amounts for the sake of its effects. Did Strel? He didn't know. What he did know was that those somewhat soothing effects of the drink were much needed in their situation. If one thing was for certain, even if the redhead wished him away, Noss wouldn't leave Strel the way he was right then.


Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.


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#20
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sounds goooood

Noss moved away and the redhead's body relaxed, his grip on the blanket weakening. His breath became easier, and he looked up at the other man in a more casual manner than before. At least he was obliging him and dropping the subject, which made him so thankful. A drink? That sounded about right. Strel was a drinker, this was true, but he did not try to do it to escape his pains but for fun. It was fun, but he never knew his limit with the stuff unless he was carefully watching himself. But he never was, oh he never was. He nodded, letting the blanket drop from his hands, glad the creamy white fur on his arms hid whatever marks the tightness of the blanket left behind.


"That sounds about right..," he answered, stiffly rising from the bed and heading toward the dresser in the room. He always hid his alcohol here, just so that no lazy snoops would find his stash of it. Ever since Rurik left, there were no providers who could help him discern the good from the bad booze. Strel pulled out something that he did not know. On the label, it said brandy but he had no idea what the letters meant. The redhead could not read, but he knew by the shape of the bottle that it was booze, as well as the weird little label at the top of the bottle most alcoholic beverages had. "Did you want some?" he asked, back turned to Noss as he pulled it out of the drawer, leaving the two bottles of rum and the solitary tequila bottle.


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