1777/I'll Always Bring You Back

I'll Always Bring You Back
Date of Scene:	29 July 2016
Location:	Earth Court Frat House
Synopsis:	CONTENT WARNING: Cute af. Kunzite has some philosophically-laden business to talk to Mamoru about.
Cast of Characters:	Kunzite, Mamoru Chiba

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Kunzite has posed:
Kunzite's room is as barren of signs of actual human habitation as Mamoru's used to be before he met Usagi. It's furnished, yes. There's that. There are a handful of actual physical books stored neatly on the one occupied shelf, alphabetized by author and title. There is a single piece of framed calligraphy hung where it can be viewed from the bed; it reads First, do no harm.

Given that there's only one chair, Kunzite is seated on the bed, propped up against the headboard with his legs stretched out. That lets him cushion Mamoru's lean somewhat, one arm around the other boy and his cheek and breath warm against dark hair. The couches out in the living room would be a little more comfortable, but this is close enough, and there's less chance of someone walking in.

"So," he murmurs, faintly amused. "Did you still have anything you wanted to reprimand me for?"

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"Mmmmno," Mamoru murmurs, much more comfortable than Kunzite at the moment, because even if the person is Kunzite, a person is much softer than a headboard. So, lean effectively cushioned. He closes his book on his lap and tilts his head up slightly, turning it; he can't quite see Kunzite's face, not without craning his neck, and that would dislodge Kunzite's head from leaning against his. But at least he's slightly easier to hear without having to raise his voice. "You did get the message. I think."

At the last, there's definite amusement in his voice. "You're much more important to me than even a Dragonite."

Kunzite has posed:
The laugh is low and quickly gone, but it's there, and it's not even the first time this month that Mamoru's gotten one out of him. Kunzite turns his head just enough to press a kiss against his temple in answer. "Praise indeed."

A slow, quiet contented breath, drawn in and let out, and on the next one he says, "Which reminds me. Madoka offered something I thought I should talk with you about before answering her on. Now that the Puella aren't so desperate, she offered to lend me one of her arrows. It's likely stronger than I can channel from myself easily, and having seen her fight, likely to have capabilities I may not. But storing something like that -- Puella magics are even more closely tied to their selves than ours are. And even with her not invoking her truest self for it ... I'm not sure whether or not I can store something like that from her without it having some kind of effect."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
So smug, twice in a few days he's made Kunzite laugh. It's gold, it's treasure. Mamoru curls into the older boy's side a little more, drawing up his legs and crossing one arm over his chest to reach Kunzite's, where it is around his shoulder.

He settles like that.

After a long moment of thinking about what it is Kunzite's asked, he asks one of his own. "Have you ever absorbed one of Usa's? Because-- knowing how hers works-- I think it's similar. Or even, if not Usa's, from any of the other Puellae? They may not be her, but-- again, similar mechanics. If Usa can take her soul out in the form of a gem..."

Kunzite has posed:
The book in Mamoru's lap shifts, digging a corner into Kunzite's thigh. It's less than nothing; he ignores it automatically ... then oversight prompts him to actually reach down with his free hand and move it out of the way, setting it off to the side. "Never one of hers, and never one of theirs," he says. "They so often use physical weapons. The closest I've come to is yours, and that ..." He trails off. Fingers press up into Mamoru's. He doesn't need to be able to see Kunzite's face to know his eyes are closed.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Then Mamoru's voice is quiet, and amused, and inexpressably fond. "Three. Yes. But are you sure you can blame the anger on me? You had a lot to be angry about. And would Madoka's peace be such a terrible thing to carry?"

There's a pause, and then Mamoru sounds curious. "Could you give it back to her without it being an attack? If it did something to you you didn't like."

Kunzite has posed:
"Our opinions of the situation were rather close, yes." His tone nearly matches Mamoru's; his free hand comes around, now, and covers Mamoru's hand on Kunzite's own. Captured. Such a trial. "As for Madoka's peace ... I don't know. What she is -- I don't understand. But we've spoken of that already. It might do nothing. It might help, in the long run. Or I might be misled by too much hope; I wouldn't be the first of our courts to have that problem lately."

There's a low sound after, not quite a laugh. "Not within my powers. I wonder if we could find a way to do that between us, one day? But perhaps a Puella wouldn't be the best to practice on. No, the most I could do would be to release it harmlessly, somewhere. Something of a waste. But Wraiths are all too common; I could make up the loss to her."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Captured-- no, shielded. Mamoru's heart beats a little faster, and he lets out an unsteady laugh, turning his head down and leaning the side of his face against Kunzite's chest as it resolves into a smile. "You couldn't be misled by it, I think. You know your mind well enough to know when 'angry' is too angry, or when influences press on you that aren't yours; you can use me as a yardstick, if you like. I've only nearly despaired, and only once, and only when I--" forgot who I was. It's unspoken, and the thought's delicately stepped around, but it's not hidden. "We both know faith and hope are things you need to work with to make them real."

Mamoru's other hand comes up as his head does, tilting back into the crook of Kunzite's neck; his hand lifts to cup the side of Kunzite's face, and his lips press against his neck. "Are you more afraid of what it might do to you, or to her? I can remind you of who you are. I can always do that. Her-- she's so much like Usa in so many ways -- when I first met her, she reminded me so much of her. And when I saw her true self-- I was reminded so much of Serenity... I don't think you can hurt her by carrying her power. Not freely given."

Kunzite has posed:
Only when he. They've dealt with that. Dealing with it doesn't heal it, but it means that the flicker back and forth of emotion that runs with the thought Mamoru's stepping around is a familiar thing. And the balance of it is love, by now, one way or another. It's a thing that happens. It doesn't slow them down.

The drawing of breath to answer that question is slower, but Mamoru's still talking; there's time. "Not freely given," he agrees at the last. "It won't do anything to her that she doesn't have the power to remedy, now -- and she can use the less precious of their sources to do it. And when she looses an arrow, why would it stay tied to her? No, I don't think it will do anything to her. But I don't ..." His hand lifts away again; fingertips trace a slow line down from Mamoru's temple, behind his eye, over his cheek to his jaw. "I neither want to, nor have the right to, risk an external change to my personality that you wouldn't be aware of. In advance. You deserve better."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
There's momentary apology in Mamoru's own set of flickering emotions, then amusement before Kunzite can potentially be properly irked by it. And it doesn't slow them down.

Especially when Mamoru's breath catches at the trailing of fingertips down the side of his face. "I'm... aware," he says, finally, blue eyes slightly vague, attempting to focus and then managing it. "Accept her offer. We'll find out, and if it's something that doesn't sit right, then yes-- take out a Wraith and give her the spoils. And I'll help you come back to yourself, if you need it. I always will." His eyes are bright and fierce for that last.

Kunzite has posed:
Kunzite leans a little forward, freeing himself from the headboard, pushing Mamoru to sit up a little straighter. Draws just a little to the side, enough to bend his head at an awkward angle --

"Always," he murmurs back, before kissing Mamoru properly. Unhurried. Slow.

He draws back again after a few moments, gray eyes gleaming. "Though that's another effect we might have to keep an eye on. I'm sure you'll find ways to signal me if her influence produces a little too much affection in public for your taste."

It's nine parts in ten teasing. One part in ten sober awareness of potential consequence, should things go very wrong; but nine parts in ten just awareness of -- well. Madoka and Homura.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
It's a moment after that before Mamoru can even answer, and it's fifty-fifty before he actually speaks that the answer might be 'what was that?'

But then he does, and it's accompanied by a breathless little sputter of indignant laughter. "You know I'm even sparing of that with Usa. There's no reason to make other people feel awkward by making out in the middle of a conversation with them, and there is a reason 'get a room' is a thing."

But then Mamoru's shifting, turning around and leaning more heavily on Kunzite to push him back against the headboard again, then putting his hands on his shoulders and leaning in. "Rooftops count as rooms, right?" he asks in a low voice, very nearly against Kunzite's lips.

Kunzite has posed:
"Depends," Kunzite murmurs back, his hands coming up to settle palms on Mamoru's sides, fingers curving just beneath his shoulderblades, "on whether Nephrite's trying to stargaze in peace and quiet at the time."