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TLV: IC Inbox

You've reached Timothy Stoker, leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you.

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It's just a bit of a loaded question, Jon, it's not a simple yes or no. I don't know exactly how self-sabotaging Dorian might be when he realises he has something nice, or how much you'll bend over backwards to accommodate his bad habits. Or even if he'll keep sleeping around in a way that upsets you if you end up formally together.

That's the problem with relationships, boss. They're complicated, no matter which way you slice it.

...you're reminding me why I didn't get involved in any of this for ages.

Also, are you in the cabin?

[That gets a not-unsympathetic snigger.]

Yeah, just walked Winnie. You'll find my corpse buried under her body.

No dying in my flat.

[ He's going to walk into the den and look around for the dog... and Tim beneath her. ]

Even if it's very comfortable.

[Sometimes you crouch down to undo a Bernese's leash and get jumped on when they're still excited about the whole affair. He's got one arm wrapped around her torso, though, and he's just accepted his lot in life to be her automatic ear scratcher. His tablet is propped against her front leg, and when he sees Jon he lifts his free hand to wave.]

Don't worry, I'm getting really good at holding my breath.

[But of course when Winnie hears Jon's voice her tail starts wagging, and when she stands up to greet him her big heavy paws slam directly into Tim's diaphragm, and he lets out a sharp grunt of breathless laughter.]

Edited 2022-09-29 11:31 (UTC)

[ That's a very flat look before he snaps his fingers and points down next to him, and Winifred trots over to sit next to him. It will earn her a petting and some soft murmured praise as he looks over at Tim. ]

She only does that because you let her, you do realize this, yes?

[He gives his chest a rub as he pushes himself into a sitting position, then back to his feet, but the smile doesn't leave his face.]

Well, maybe she deserves a little play. She's a good girl, she deserves to have some fun in her own house.

She has plenty of fun. I'm not a dictator.

[ And the dog is still getting pettings. Jon's hands just do that when one of the furbabies is around. ]

Her toy is in the freezer if you want to give her a treat. I was able to pick up peanut butter.

Think we should see if we can't get the kids to grow peanuts in the greenhouse at some point? It's not like peanut butter's hard to make.

[He gives Winnie a drive-by fluff as he walks out of the den, intent on spoiling his bequeathed niece.]

[ She, as always, leans into the touch as Jon moves aside to give him room. His kitchen's not particularly large. ]

I doubt they'd be against it. I don't think peanut farming is particularly arduous or terrible for the soil.

Just have to make sure none of them have any allergies.

[He pops the kettle on, of course.]

Like you talking about romance. You practically break out in hives.

[ He rolls his eyes and gives him a Look at that. ]

It's not my area of expertise. Some people are awkward about the whole thing.

So why is it that you keep being drawn to men who are, historically, declarative as hell?

[ Very flat. ]

Because if there was a God, it'd be clear enough that He doesn't like me very much.

[Tim just snickers.]

I think you just like having someone who talks as much as you. And it's not like you don't practically wax poetic when you talk about the things, or people, you care about. Your love language is extended monologues.

[ Jon's just going to give him a wounded look. How dare you call him out that accurately? The nerve. ]

What else is language for?

Bad pick up lines.

[The kettle pings, and he keeps talking over his shoulder.]

But it's more like- not everyone cares about hearing how much you think they put the moon in the sky for you. They feel the love more when you do things. Physical contact - not just sex, even just cuddles, holding hands, letting them use you as a leaning pole. Giving them gifts, since it shows you've been thinking about what they might like. Spending time with them.

[He comes back to pass Jon his mug.]

Remembering how they like their tea.

That all just seems like part of any relationship. [ He gestures to the mug as he takes it ] And giving someone the right drink is just courtesy.

Well, yes, there is that. [Jon, please.] But it's more, like...

[He hums as he thinks about it.]

Look, I don't actually care about poetry, right? So, say if Martin tried to give me a poem as a sign he was crushing on me, and wanted to make that an overt, flirty gesture - I'd appreciate it, but it wouldn't really affect me like that. But, if Martin wrote me a poem, trying to make sure it appealed to me specifically and putting genuine thought and care into it - well, I still don't like poems, but I love that he put effort into making it special, just for me. And that hits me quite hard.

[ There's a pause as his eyes drop a little and he swallows some of his tea. It's still steaming but he doesn't really notice. ]

Yes, that sort of thing... hits rather hard.

[ Says the man who had written Martin poetry. And recited it for him. ]

[Ah- perhaps that example was a bit too soon.

He moves in next to Jon, pressing gently into his side to try and ground him a bit.]

[ He accepts, as much because he needs it as because he knows Tim will feel like shit if he doesn't. And he'll breathe in deep before admitting- ]

I... actually kissed Dorian. After all that. Incidentally.

[Pressed against him, Jon will definitely feel Tim's chest hitch sharply as he very nearly snorts his tea.]

Well, don't go doing things by halves, Jon.

[ He ducks in a little closer. ]

He... He was being foolish. I needed to let him know I... how I felt.

Should I be worried about you snogging me next time I'm being an idiot, now that you're a free agent?

[But his tone is rhetorical, just teasing, as he wraps an arm around Jon's back.]

I take it things went well, since you're not paralysed by self-loathing.

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