They say communication is the key.

[forthedog]

Despite appearances, Mike is not actually that confrontational a person. Not in certain contexts, anyway, so rather than ask Hobbes head-on what's eating him, he's keeping his own distance. Not that it's hard; part of the manifestation of... whatever this is, is that Hobbes is gone a lot.

He figures it'll come out when the pressure builds enough, or the kid (he can't quite lose the word) will get over it. In the meantime he has things he needs to be doing. His canoe is leaking. Not a lot, but enough to make any extended travel difficult. He doesn't know much about patching boats but hands-on learning is best in his experience.

It's extraordinarily hot on the beach. The weather's always been warm here, but since the change in the Island it's been unusually humid and sticky. He's shirtless and in khaki shorts, and the sweat is running down his face in long trickles and making his hands slippery. He loses hold of his knife for an instant and gives his thumb a good slice. He jerks it up to his mouth, sucking on it and cursing richly.

It feels so much easier to blame it all on Hobbes, for the moment.

Comments

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Here's the thing: he doesn't mean to. He doesn't intend to let it bother him. He wants it to roll of his shoulders, take it for what it is, to accept, accept. He doesn't want to read into it, see that particular type of bonding, that kind of trust, the sort of brotherhood that usually started up in trenches. He tries not to think about it, that it happened and that the first he heard of it was from Chris, not Mike.

He doesn't mean to get pissed, sullen, spend almost all his free time with Mamet or with Eostre, underneath her Buddha tree. It just...happens. He hasn't stayed in his own hut for this many nights in a row since the Bad Old Days, before the picture. He's not pissed, exactly. He doesn't understand, that's all. He doesn't understand and knows that he's not meant to.

"Hey," he said, tossing Mike a full water skin, voice more or less flat. "Eostre says to remember you promised her a boar by the weekend. They're getting pretty low on meat. I'm headed over to the build, so it's up to you, alright?" He shifted his pack on his shoulder, already starting to turn away. "I'm running late, so. I'll catch up with you later."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He looks up but not around, closing his eyes momentarily at the tone. It's a little echo of what he thought they'd left behind a long time ago, nowhere close to as bad but closer than he'd like. He sighs and reaches down for the water.

"Yeah," he says, equally as flat. "Okay. Fine. Thanks." And he only waits a few seconds more before making his decision.

"Wait," he says, turning in his crouch. His voice is low and determined rather than flat. Dammit, he will be reasonable. He's just tired.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes winces when he hears Mike's response. He knows he's being unreasonable. He really does. He doesn't want to talk about it. He wants to go work himself into exhaustion and then go to bed. It's wicked hot out, it's India, and Mike and Chris were Mike-and-Chris and there was never going to be any changing that, just accepting. He groaned.

"What?" he says, stupid out of self defense. "I'm already running late, Pinocchio."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"You know what," he says wearily, palming sweat off his face. "The fuck's been with you the past couple days? Pretty sure I pissed you off somehow, but I guess I'm too stupid to figure it out on my own, so if you could toss me a hint that'd be fantastic."

The words are his old acidity, but there's none of it in his voice. Just that weariness and some irritation, and a healthy dose of genuine confusion. He honestly doesn't know what he could have done to cause this. And now that he thinks about it, it's been eating at him.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes rolled his eyes, fingers tightening up around the strap for his bag. He stood like his entire postures started with his chin.

"You-? Christ, Pinocchio," he grunted, mouth pressed into a thin line, giving up nothing. Curtly, he shook his head. "It's too freaking hot for this."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, 'cause it's really gonna cool down soon and then we can do this." He drops the water back into the sand and pinches the bridge of his nose. There's a headache coming on. He hopes it's not sunstroke.

"You are pissed off at me," he says slowly. "You can at least tell me why. It's not too hot for you to say a fucking sentence."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"It's really not worth it," Tom said, defensive, suddenly feeling young and stupid and jealous, but not close to backing down. He rolled his eyes to himself. All he could bring himself to remember was the old Mike, the way it once was, and how that guy would react to any admission of emotions. What he'd have to say about jealous tendency.

"It's...it's really not worth it, right? Just forget it. Not a big deal."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He wants to believe it, he really does. It's tempting to think that if you just ignore something, it'll go away. But he knows too well that it isn't true, and in any case, they should be further than that, now.

"If it's not a big deal," he says quietly, "you should be able to tell me." He pauses, looking down at the sand and his hands clasped between his knees. After a second or two he gets to his feet, dusting off his palms.

"I know I don't tell you everything," he says. "But I try."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes wants to say, 'you don't, not even now, don't think I don't notice', but he's not even sure that's true anymore. He doesn't want to hurt for hurt's sake. It's not him, not even after so many years in the Realm.

And Mike's standing there...asking.

"I. Chris. What the hell made you...just, what the hell, Mike?"

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

And now he's well and truly confused. He blinks and stares for a few seconds, his mouth working before he finally says something.

"I dunno," he says simply. "I'm not sure what the hell you're talking about."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes threw his hands up in the air, his ears already pink.

"I. You know what, never mind. I said it was stupid, didn't I?"

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He looks away, snorting a dry, frustrated laugh. The more things change, the more they stay exactly the same.

"I'll tell you what's stupid," he says, putting on hand on his hip and wiping a smudge of sand across his cheek with the other. "You standing there... being like this. Like we never got anywhere." He takes a step forward, almost threatening in his aspect, though he doesn't mean to be. "Talk to me. What the fuck did I do?"

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"You fucking burnt a damn love note into Cutter's arm," Hobbes said, chin stuck out, defiant. "Your remember that? Happened, I don't know, week ago? Maybe more?"

He'd said it. Yes. Didn't make more sense one it had left it mouth, as it turns out. Inwardly, he winced.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He has absolutely no immediate answer to that. It's hard to think of one when his stomach is plummeting towards his feet. He hadn't... it had been the most innocent thing, really, just something that Chris had wanted and he'd been able to help him. And yes, he'd enjoyed it, but he can't help the way he's wired. And it's not like he'd fucking slept with him. And it's not like...

"...I wasn't hiding it from you," he says finally, dumbly. "It just... It never came up. There wasn't any reason to bring it up." And a little more sharply, "And it wasn't a fucking 'love note'. Can we please not start that bullshit again?"

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

It's not about sex. It's not about love. It's about the way that Mike had so lovingly dragged a hunting blade down his ribs half a week ago, not even beading up blood, about the pain that was pleasure, vice versa. It was about trust, and how much it meant to Mike Pinocchio, and most importantly, it was about how hard it was for him to give it away.

Hobbes shook his head, very nearly laughing. It was so ridiculous that something so stupid could scare the hell out of him like this.

"See. I told you it was stupid," he muttered, and turned to walk away.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

Just for a second he's scared. Because he doesn't understand what this is, because this is still so new and so different and he's not sure yet that he can do it at all, because he can't fight what he can't see. He takes another step forward and swallows, hating the weakness that shivers through him. It's still hard, after all this, it's still so hard.

It's taken less than this for people to walk away from him.

"Don't," he says, close to pleading.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"Look, Mike," Hobbes said, stopped, not turning around. "I just. I thought...I don't know what I thought." His fingers clenched, unclenched. "I don't know how this works," he said after a very quiet, shaking pause. "I don't know where this thing that...the stuff we do starts and ends. I don't. I don't understand it. And you and Chris...."

Were Mike And Chris. Probably always will be, too.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"He wanted something for Lennox," he says, still with that pleading note dangerously close to the surface of his voice. Please understand. Please. "We were talking about it... and he decided he wanted a brand, and I was there and I could help him. It doesn't mean..." He half raises his hands to the sides of his head, like he's going to grip his hair in exasperation.

"He's my friend," he says helplessly. "I don't know what you want me to say. He's my friend. That's it. What you and I do... it's between us."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"You couldn't have helped him pick some flowers?" Hobbes said, finally turning around, half raising his hand before letting it drop listlessly against his side. He chewed the inside of his lip, staring at Mike, unsure if he should look away, back away. Eventually, he just sighs.

"I know," he said, swallowing hard, still confused, trying to step back and to see all the angles. Sometimes...sometimes he just needed to get out of his own head. "You trust him. I know."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

Things aren't simpler on the Island. In a lot of ways they're even more complicated. He should stop being so surprised.

He steps forward like the motion's been held down inside him for a long time now, taking Hobbes gently by the shoulders, holding him in place without pulling him closer. However much he might want to.

"I trust him," he says simply. "And I'm in love with you." He pauses, worrying at his lip and holding Tom's gaze with his own just like he's holding his body.

"You've trusted me for a long time." He shakes his head slightly, the smile tugging at his lips almost sad. "Can't you trust me now? I made you a promise, Tom."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes let a breath out slowly, but it felt like it went on for a long time, until he was light headed from it, letting his shoulders slump into Mike's hand. He could believe it. A part of him always does.

"Against better judgment and a lot of advice to the contrary," he muttered. He reached up, dragging the dogtags out of the collar of Mike's shirt.

"I said it was stupid," he muttered quietly, letting his hand slip over Mike's collar, flattening on his shoulder.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"I just didn't tell you," he says, letting his eyes fall closed again and breathing out another hitching sigh. "It's not stupid-- I mean, it is, but..." He opens his eyes again, looks past Hobbes and off into the jungle.

"When I'm with you, when we're... It's special." He looks back down at Hobbes, gaze as open as he can make it. "I don't go spreading that around. It's too important."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes nodded, rubbing his hand gruffly over his face. "I know," he said softly. "I know that, Mike. God, do I know that..." He let out a slow breath. "It's just...you think maybe you can not stick burny things into your friends anymore? Or maybe just give me a heads up about it."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He raises an eyebrow slightly. "I doubt it's the kind of situation that's going to be happening a lot in the future," he says slowly. "And it feels kinda weird giving you a heads-up. But if you really want me to, okay."

He pauses, reaching up with one hand and cupping Hobbes's face, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. "I'm sorry I upset you," he says. "I swear I didn't mean to."

It gets a little easier every time to say it.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, well," Hobbes said, but his tone was soft and forgiving. "What else is new?"

He let the curve of his jaw rest in Mike's hand for a moment before he opened his eyes, getting suckerpunched by the look on Mike's face.

"You're...you're good, Mike. God, you really are."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"I'm trying," he says, in a tone that suggests that he totally doesn't buy it for a moment but he appreciates the sentiment behind it. "You help." He leans in and kisses him, light and almost chaste.

"Just... promise me this won't make things weird with Chris again," he says when he pulls back. "He didn't mean anything either. He just wanted to make Lennox happy."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"Well, I was going to offer to bruise Jim's full name down his spine," Tom said lightly, eyebrows arched. "You know, as a male bonding, sweet thing to do for Lennox."

He squeezed the back of Mike's neck, kissed him. "But...maybe I'll just wait until he asks instead."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"Don't be a bitch," he murmurs, no real irritation in it at all as he allows himself be kissed. "It's not a good look for you." He lets things stay like that for a little longer before pulling gently back again, on hand slipping down to Tom's waist.

"That hunting I'm supposed to do soon," he says. "Come with me? The humidity makes the leg act up and it's harder alone."

Which is partly true. But only part of the reason why.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes smirks a little, biting his bottom lip. "There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile..." he murmured, almost laughing. He sounded a little awed.

"You're so full of shit, Pinocchio." He laughed again, glancing up at Mike through his lashes. "Yeah. I'll go with you. Gotta swing home so I can kit up but...yeah. I'm in." He rolled his eyes again, this time at himself.

"More or less like always."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"No rush." His hand hasn't left Hobbes's hip and he's discovering that he has to concentrate to make it move. "I have to finish up here anyway." he jerks his head in the direction of the canoe. "It's leaking. Shouldn't take long to patch up."

The rhyme, though... He knows it's meant jokingly, just teasing, but something about it unsettles him. He suppresses a shiver. It's nothing, anyway.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"Come pick me up at the build," Hobbes said, "I'm bringing Mamet his lunch, anyway."

As he pulled back he paused, watching Mike. "Hey...I'm sorry. Are we okay?"

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He smiles, faint but not forced at all. The unsettled feeling is mostly past already. "Long as we can both not be dicks, yeah, I think so." He shrugs. "We're both still pretty new at this. Shit happens."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"I don't know," Hobbes mused, "I was just getting so good at being a dick."