[It's been about a month since Mignon has been living on his own. For the first time in his life, he's completely free.
But of course, the question now is...
Free to do what?
Until now, Mignon has never had to think about himself or his future seriously. Every aspect of his schedule- and even the people he was allowed to interact with- was once dictated by his former coach. -His former guardian, really.
And it's not like he misses being under the old man's oppressive thumb or anything, but to say that he's largely directionless in life at the moment would be an understatement. Without any connections, and barely any money to his name, it was difficult to even know where to start becoming an independent adult. But somehow... after a little fumbling along the way, Mignon managed to turn the life of an athlete that had been forced upon him into a legitimate career path.
Well. "Career" might be too generous, but at the very least he's getting paid. And this time, the money he earns from every fight is actually going into his pocket. Objectively speaking, his life is simple- but good. Mignon can finally call himself a "real" adult; one who takes care of himself and doesn't have to be kicked around by anyone who isn't an opponent in the ring.
So why does he feel so listless lately?
Heaving a sigh, Mignon looks up at the ceiling of the small apartment he managed to buy for himself, and finds himself feeling... well. Bored. Even despite no longer having to stick to coach's strict workout schedule, it seems like Mignon still can't quite get used to sitting around doing nothing for too long. Whether that's a direct result of all of Coach's "conditioning", or something like his own free will... is hard to say.
Regardless, Mignon puts on his running gear and sneakers; stretching as he prepares to go on a run around the block. Maybe some fresh air will help him to focus on something other than the odd emptiness of his new, coach-less apartment...]
[If boredom is what ails him, give it thirty minutes or more into his jog.
Though it’s a story Mignon will have never heard of, nor the general populous; of strange entities that exist within and outside the world, on the other side of the veil. Things that usually have no business mingling with the drivel of humanity. Calling them “monsters” is an insult to both sides of the coin — humans have done much, much worse to themselves, and for less than pennies on the dollar — but in those moments where a cursed miracle steps from out the other side of the fog, gains a conscience, realizes it’s accidentally materialized in the mortal realm—
But of course there are organizations that are quick to take notice.
Of course the most sensible thing to do is to run.
If there’s any justice, is that the armed scientists fast on his heels learn that a cornered fae is far more unpleasant than any werewolf, vampire, or goblin combined. He doesn’t need raw strength — just rage and curses thrown with impunity. A finger snap, a promise of retribution, and their human minds bleed straight from their orifices, bodies collapsed on the sterile, tile flooring as he flees.
By all accounts, it’s a perfect escape… with his only mistake being unaware that humans are as petty as him. Weaving a spell that will materialize him out of the facility, a shock of metal lodges into his abdomen before the incantation is completed.
He disappears from his captors’ sights, voice a howl of pain and rage as he snaps out of existence—
— And then is unceremoniously dumped into a lone alleyway as Mignon takes a sharp corner on his afternoon jog.]
[It had been a nice run. The night air was crisp and clear; nothing but the distant noise of life in and his own footsteps in his ears as he ran in long strides down the empty block-
-Up until Mignon hears a loud noise to his left, and suddenly catches sight of a body collapsing to the ground in a nearby alleyway.]
Woah-!
[Startled, Mignon skids to an abrupt and undignified halt. His eyes did not decieve him- there is indeed a body crumpled up on the floor nearby, and it's sudden appearance nearly made Mignon's heart leap out of his throat. Without thinking, he immediately rushes over; anxiety building up inside of him as he moves closer towards the... corpse(???)]
H-hey, miss, are you alright!?
[In his panic, all Mignon initially sees is a slender figure, flowing hair... and blood. Kneeling down in front of the body, Mignon reaches out with a trembling hand to brush the person's pale strands aside and get a better look at their face.]
Ma'am...!
[...Oh. Maybe not a ma'am?
Anyway, forget about that- is this person even breathing? Should Mignon be searching their body for some kind of I.D?? No- before that, he should check for a pulse, right??? Moving his hand lower, Mignon goes to place his fingers to their throat in search of a pulse.]
[The person is breathing — barely. Shallow, wheezing breaths of pain that inefficiently pull air into his lungs and keep the blood flowing. So disoriented, it takes a moment for the world to phase back into his fractured vision, and even then he feels the breeze on his clammy skin before he can bother comprehending where he is.
— Outside. He’s outside. Fine, alright; he can deal with that.
— But not alone, comes the next ugly realization, when he hones in on a presence by his side: a voice warm and low with concern knelt above him, blotting out the moonlight. Didn’t last but five seconds before some human discovered his body.
The fingers on his neck? Clawed aside like Mignon is forced to corral a mountain lion rather than an injured civilian. And the sharp flutter of large moth wings snapped open wide probably won’t help with the matter. His battered breath squeezes into a hiss, gathering up a curse to his lips, not so weak as to remain pliant while someone gets a good look at his face. The poor bastard chose the wrong time to take a run.
… And nothing happens.
The human doesn’t roll over dead on command.
— No, worse, he fears, when the recoil hits and there’s a pitiful wheeze of agony as he doubles over, clutching weakly at his abdomen and the wound still oozing copper. Those bastards at the facility did not strike him with a bullet; just insurance to make sure their quarry wouldn’t get too far with another spell, or leave a mountain of corpses in his wake.
… Well played, actually.]
Damn… it…
[The fight drains from him, body and wings sinking into the alleyway ground, face thoroughly exposed and pinched with pain - the only reason he isn’t glaring at Mignon like he committed some grave sin.]
[Mignon isn't sure what surprises him more. The sudden clawing of his hand, the pure, masculine rage suddenly radiating from the man's otherwise delicate-looking face, or the fact that there are very real wings now fluttering from the stranger's back.
...No, scratch that. It's definitely the fucking wings.]
Gh-!?!
[Mignon gasps and remains frozen in shock for several seconds after the... moth-man(???) falls again; his brain needing an extra moment to compute what he's seeing. But once he's able to see the pool of blood slowly forming beneath the stranger's body, Mignon is suddenly snapped out of his state of confusion and he rushes forward again.]
Hey- you can't keep moving around, or you'll hurt yourself!!
[Now that he knows that he's dealing with a 'fighter' here, Mignon is more careful as he approaches again; removing his cloth sweatshirt and going to gingerly lift the winged man up just enough to tie the sweatshirt around the other's waist. Mignon is careful, but he's also ready to forcefully pin the other man still if need be.]
...Okay, that... should slow the bleeding a little, I think. Just wait while I call someone to come and get you taken care of.
[His hands now stained with a bit of blood, Mignon reaches down into the pocket of his sweatpants to try and fish out his phone. -A much more difficult process than usual, now that his hands are extra slippery.] Shit...
[He tries to wipe his hand off on the cloth of his sweatpants; nervous as he glances from his phone to the injured man again.]
Uh, I guess I should just ask for an ambulance...?
[That's... definitely what he should do in this situation, right?
So why is he hesitating?
Mignon's eyes flick back to the unknown entities wings once more. For some reason, he's got a bad feeling about this...]
[From a botched summoning in a strange facility to being shot in the abdomen, and now manhandled by human hands; the injustices continue to pile on top of one another, and that he doesn’t kick at the man in defiance when touched is just a technicality. His lower half has shut down completely, and with his violent mystics locked inside his own body, so too goes any hope of escape.
Trapped again, at another’s mercy. Being sent back to the other side of the veil would probably be a kinder fate.]
— D-don’t—
[Seizing up as the word drags itself from his throat, expression pinched, and the glare he sends could freeze the earth twice over. Call who? Call what? And the fuck is an ambulance? Some pretty box to ship him in once his summoners find him, he bets. The fairy isn’t so stupid as to extend a moment of trust to this stranger. Already, he can imagine a price on his head, eagerly exchanged once his capture is arranged.
The sharp taste of bile and blood stings at his tongue as he grinds out another heaving breath, ignoring the call to remain still — shoving his arms underneath him in a bid to push, sit up, and crawl, if he must. But halfway up and the last of his strength gives.
Gravity slams him back into place. He doesn’t move again. Just gasps tightly and closes his eyes, and tries to plan for the inevitable.]
[Mignon isn't the brightest bulb in the box. But as the injured man speaks that single word- "Don't" -somehow, a sense of understanding washes over his previously-confused and conflicted brain.
It seems like, for some reason, this guy thinks it would be bad if Mignon were to call a bunch of doctors to come and examine him.
...And Mignon agrees.
As he watches the moth-man struggle, fighting for his life with every ounce of strength he has left, Mignon feels a dull aching sensation tugging at his heart. The mysterious sensation isn't a sense fear, but a sense of... sympathy? Empathy? Admiration? Whatever it is, it has Mignon quickly changing his plans.]
.....
Okay.
[His phone is placed back into his pocket. Mignon steps forward again and bends down to take hold of the other male by the arm. Quickly, Mignon goes to lift the stranger up into his arms; cradling his body closely. Part of him wanted to carry the man on his back- but it'd be easier to keep the winged man restrained if Mignon holds the other to his chest instead. The last thing he wants is to see the poor thing drop to the ground again if he were to start lashing out again.]
[Rudely, the world lurches when he’s again moved, and his eyes fly open to lock with the human’s. The sharp color of lightning before it strikes the earth.
… And just like lightning it dulls quickly with the moment passed, color receding back into a normal hue once the pain resumes and he accepts his fate to dangle helpless in the other’s grip. He’s stopped counting the injustices at this point. Carry him directly into the sea and drown him, he doesn’t care. He’s too busy distracted by the strange weightlessness that floods his senses, wings uselessly bunched between his back and the human’s arms, but still.
Almost like flying. It isn’t unpleasant.
His head rocks back and forth, purposefully suspended away from the other’s shoulder in open defiance, until he tires with his own stubbornness and finally cedes - drops his temple against the human’s chest and sighs, irritable, forced to admit this is a fair bit more comfortable than concrete.]
As if I’d ever.
[— He’ll raze this earth before letting the mortal realm think they’ve bested him, make no mistake. All of this is a setback at worst. Give it time. Take him to this “home” so he can recuperate, and then he’ll be showing everyone why they would have been better off summoning the devil than an angry fae.
Eyes closing once more, the next breath he takes is not nearly as pained. More soft and exhausted, and carrying a casual warning in a honeyed tenor.]
[Seems like this guy doesn't have the energy left to fight anymore. Mignon isn't so sure that's a good sign, but at the very least, it should make carrying him easier. It's a good thing that the athlete wasn't terribly far into his jog before he stumbled upon the injured being; shouldn't take too long for Mignon to make it back to his apartment at this pace. Hopefully there aren't a lot of other people wandering the streets at this hour, but if there are, maybe they'll just think that Mignon is carrying a drunk friend home after a costume party or something?
In any case, Mignon shifts the other male's weight in his arms, trying to allow him as much comfort as possible. Even so, it seems like the guy is doing his best to avoid leaning on Mignon. This guy's got a lot of pride... Or rather, perhaps it's more accurate to say that he's surprisingly strong, for someone who initially looked so delicate...]
Heh.
[Despite the circumstances, Mignon finds himself exhaling a small puff of laughter at the other's response to his simple "request". He might not be physically lashing out, but the guy's personality is still pretty lively. -Which makes it even more amusing when the winged man finally succumbs to exhaustion and leans against Mignon's shoulder.
Cute...
...But on second thought, maybe that's also not a good thing.
Mignon is honestly a little worried that the stranger might not open his eyes again if he were to fall asleep now. The threat exhaled against Mignon's shoulder is oddly reassuring, in a way; a clear indication that the guy really hasn't given up yet.
Maybe it's better to keep him talking for a bit longer.]
"Mignon". That's my name.
What should I call you, huh? You've got wings, and you came out of nowhere, so...
[Killing a fae is tricky. There are tales of pure iron to wound them, but in reality, it’s more akin to a terrible allergy than any real death. And for all his agony after having been shot, death is not what he fears — it’s the eventual capture, the subjugation, the threat of humans pawing at his clothes and skin, dissecting him to get a handle on his inner mystics. No matter how he might scream and spit, it’s unlikely he’d die.
But a fae who gives out their True Name is indeed a dead one; entirely too much power to be handing over to a human, even one who has been strangely amiable to the idea of sheltering him for the night.
— That nickname, though.
Absolutely the fuck not.
Eyes opening up for what feels like the fiftieth time, the fairy nails his savior with a look of utter disapproval.]
Call me that even once, and I will curse your entire family line, thank you.
[— Mm. Perhaps a little on the nose with his threat, he realizes, once his irritation is spent. They’ve yet to reach the human’s abode, and he isn’t sure if the man will abandon him if angered. Play it cool, then. At least attempt to seem frail. Disregard how acting like a weak insect makes him want to set fire to the city; the important part is to survive.
Chewing on his tongue, the fairy swallows down his pride and settles again, bundled neatly in the other’s arms — hears a heartbeat next to his ear and lets the rhythm keep his own voice steady.]
No, that was… uncalled for… I’m a bit… tired.
[Forgive me, is the unspoken demand. Only one of them is bleeding from the gut. Offer a little more grace, he asks.]
— Mignon, is it? I’m, ah… [Stalling, holding back a wince as his thoughts cartwheel. What throwaway name to give him? What passes as a fae’s name? It’s been eons since he was called to the human realm, and he can barely remember their twisted history.
[… Glancing to the side, folding in on himself by another inch, as if in an effort to shield his face from the blunder of cursing a family that doesn’t even exist. It fails — he is well aware — and realizing the human still has a good look at him causes his right eyelid to twitch]
“Drive-by”… some archaic weapon your lot uses?
[Sounding both put-out and flabbergasted. First off — how’s he to know the exact name of whatever was powerful enough to screw up his mystics? That would require admittance, and that’s the last thing Oberon feels like fessing up to.
— Damn, but if even the civilians can put a name to such acts, the humans have certainly leveled up since the last time he came to this realm. Just all manner of destruction. It makes the current one carrying him that much more of an oddity. A surprise.
He hates goddamn surprises.
Irritation still barely restrained, Oberon peers at the other from the cover of his lashes, on the hunt for slip-up]
Enough with your inquiries. If you’ve feel like interrogating me, call your a’cursed ambulance instead.
[Mignon cants his head to the side; finding himself chasing after Oberon's gaze. Seems he really doesn't want to talk about whatever it was that happened to him. Poor guy must have seriously had it rough.]
Sorry... guess it's none of my business.
I'm just worried about you, is all. [He speaks honestly; brow slightly furrowed in concern.] But I won't ask any more questions if you don't want me to.
[As stated, he's a bit more silent for the rest of their trip to his place. As they draw nearer to Mignon's small apartment, the man carefully ascends the bit of steps in front of his door, and moves to balance Oberon's weight onto one arm as he fishes his keys out of the pocket of his now-bloodstained sweatpants with his free hand. The door is swiftly unlocked, and Mignon doesn't stop to remove his shoes at the entrance before immediately carrying Oberon over to the living room couch, where he moves to gingerly set Oberon down.
Mignon has very few personal items- an old but functional TV, some CD's piled up near a cheap stereo, workout gear and boxing gloves up on a foldable table... and other than that, just the bare essentials for living as the single bachelor he is. The apartment itself is tiny and mostly bare; even the couch that's probably about to get a little bloody right now is brand new. Mignon isn't really worried about that right now; more concerned with making sure the winged man is as comfortable as possible.]
Uh, my bad- I just moved here, and I don't really have a lot of stuff yet, but I've got a decent amount of bandages and some disinfectant, at least...
[A pause, and then he asks-] Do you want help taking off your clothes?
[As much as Mignon doesn't like the idea of Jeoh's boss constantly dropping in on him like that, for now, he focuses on the joy he feels at getting to see his friend soon; spirits instantly lifted by nothing but the promise of getting to spend real time with each other for what feels like the first time in forever.]
Don't worry- I can be super stealthy!!
[About as "stealthy" as a snow-capped mountain trying to sneak it's way down a street corner.]
I'll meet you at the main entrance of the park, near the statue, okay?
[ it's a lot, this risk and taking mignon's word about being stealthy. jeoh isn't used to trusting people, but mignon makes it a lot easier than it should be. he doesn't think it'll be too much of a problem if they get caught anyway — if his boss tries to shake mignon down for payment, jeoh will just give him the money for it instead.
keeping his hood up, jeoh's stops are quick as he approaches the park, spotting mignon immediately thanks to how tall he is. at least the park isn't too busy, what with it being so late and all. with a dumb little wave and a grin on his part, he closes some of the distance between them. ]
Hey. You look pretty good for a guy who went a few rounds tonight. I'm impressed.
[As soon as Jeoh's face comes into view, Mignon perks up as if all the drama and turmoil of his earlier fight with coach never happened at all. He stretches his arm up and waves back at Jeoh enthusiastically (as if the guy really needed the extra help spotting him...) and immediately rushes closer to close the distance between them.]
Jeoh...!
[Grinning an excited grin, Mignon stops directly in front of his friend and soaks up that praise like a sponge to water; a blush visible on his cheeks.] Hehe, you think so? It's because I knew you were rooting for me, so I really focused on dodging~!
[But enough about that for now. It might not have been very long since Jeoh has last seen Mignon, but for Mignon, it feels like it's been ages since he has last seen his first and only friend's face. Unabashedly, the athlete scoops Jeoh up into his arms and gives him a big hug; paying no mind whatsoever to whoever may be around the park witnessing his very public display of affection.]
[ mignon really is sunshine personified. the way he lights up and rushes over when he sees him makes a warmth he's learning to associate with him bloom in the pit of his chest, a real smile replacing the grin he was sporting before. it's better seeing him up close like this, better hearing his voice. the color dusting his cheeks is cute, too.
how mignon doesn't have people lining up just to bask in his presence is far beyond jeoh's understanding.
still, he lets out a quiet noise of surprise when mignon scoops him up like he weighs nothing, pulse kicking into high gear. if he felt warm before, he feels even warmer now. he tries to return the hug as best he can, letting mignon melt away the stress of his day easily. ]
Yeah, yeah. I've missed you, too. [ he doesn't sound upset, smile even evident in his tone. this is ridiculous. when did he get so soft? ] Geez, I forgot how much taller you are. You even smell good after all of that. How is that even fair?
[An unusual bashful feeling has Mignon feeling warm as he's complimented again. Usually, comments from others about his looks or build don't really mean much to the athlete. It's flattering for a moment, but the words are quickly set aside and forgotten in the next; small superficial observations of him from women and men who might watch him fight with the same awe and appreciation that one might give towards a gorilla at the zoo, but ultimately, it never felt like his existence meant anything to them at all. -Which is fine, really, considering how Mignon lacked the ability to truly connect with them as well.
Jeoh is different. There's something... deep and real about him, that draws Mignon into his orbit. It's not like Jeoh is always sunshine and rainbows, but even his darker emotions are beautiful. When he becomes angry or resentful on Mignon's behalf for the way he's treated, for example, it makes Mignon feel oddly warm and fluttery on the inside that someone would even care that much...
Putting Jeoh back on his feet again, Mignon releases him from his bear hug but remains close, chuckling.]
You're really good at telling a guy exactly what he likes to hear, huh? [It's hard to tell if he's even trying to be or not, but Jeoh is always so damn seductive... His clients must find him irresistible.]
Heh... y'know, this must be what it feels like to meet up with your boyfriend for a secret date. [When others look at them right now, do they see a couple? A pair of attractive college kids, sneaking around their parents backs to enjoy a wild night out on the town together? If only they could live such carefree lives...
Mignon exhales; finally feeling like he can truly relax after the stressful encounter he had with Coach earlier. Reaching out, he grips Jeoh's hand within his larger one and squeezes.] ...I really needed this. Just... to be close to you.
[ jeoh knows he's probably not that great at giving hugs back yet, not with the little practice he's gotten being with mignon himself. but when mignon hugs him, he doesn't feel that weird spike of anxiety, begging him to squirm out of his hold. in reality, he'd let him hug him for hours if he wanted to.
he lets out a laugh when his feet finally hit the ground again, resisting the urge to reach for him again since they're in public. mignon is pretty easy to spot, after all. they're still within walking distance of the fighting ring, so he doesn't want to draw too much attention. ]
You think so? I've never had a boyfriend to meet up with before. Looks like you'll have to fill in.
[ he's teasing, but he knows he spends a lot of time pretending around mignon — pretending they're normal people, pretending they have freedom. he returns the squeeze to mignon's hand, color rising in his own cheeks as he offers him a grin of his own. ]
But yeah, no problem. You can crash at my place whenever as long as the timing is right.
[ since most of his appointments are at other places. the only thing he's really worried about is his boss, but he's sure he'll stay out of their hair for the night and tomorrow. probably. ]
Besides, I like you up close and personal more, anyway. Watching you fight is amazing, sure, but getting to hug you and hold your hand is even better.
Hehe, well, you can get as close and personal as you want... [Mignon can't help but laugh; his cheeks taking on a darker hue of red as Jeoh unknowingly wraps him tighter and tighter around his finger. It's always so fun to flirt like this with Jeoh, and Jeoh is the only person Mignon ever really gets to have this kind of 'romantic' banter with. -Mostly because Mignon doesn't have any interest in anyone else to begin with. They may only be platonic friends, but that doesn't mean Mignon is at all shy about blatantly putting his attraction for the other on display.]
...Oh! Yeah!
Since I'm your boyfriend for tonight and all, it should be fine to give you that gift I told you about before...
[Mignon digs into the duffel bag hanging upon his shoulder for a moment, before taking out a certain bracelet. The black cat charm is then slipped onto Jeoh's wrist, using the hand that he's still holding, and Mignon beams as he holds it up for the other to see.]
When I saw this at the market the other day, I felt like I had to buy it...
[ jeoh is about to tease him a little more, but then mignon is digging through his duffle bag, mentioning that gift from before. it kind of stops him in his tracks, his attention rapt as he pulls out that bracelet and even slips it onto his wrist. something in his chest aches at that, taking in the beads, the little black kitty.
the last time anyone gave him anything like this, it was probably his mom. it makes his throat feel tight and he has to blink rapidly, looking away from the bracelet to take in mignon's smiling face. the breath he takes in is shaky and he has to hold his hand a little tighter, pressing close and wrapping his other arm around mignon in a half-hug.
it feels a little better, being able to hide his face in mignon's chest. ]
I love it. Thank you so much, Mignon. [ muffled against his shirt, but so true it hurts. it's such a small thing, but it already means the world to him and that's a little scary. ]
-! [That expression... wow. Is it just his imagination, or did it almost look like Jeoh was about to cry?
Mignon's heart stutters; skipping a beat in his chest before pounding loudly enough that Jeoh might even be able to hear it now. Jeoh is usually pretty composed... He's never seen a face like that from Jeoh before.]
Erm, y-yeah... [The athlete belatedly brings one hand up to stroke soothingly up Jeoh's back, as the other pats that soft black hair.]
It was my first time buying a gift for anyone, so I was a little nervous...
[He smiles.] But if I knew you'd react like this, I would've tried to start buying you stuff ages ago, haha.
[A bit more serious, the hand at the back of Jeoh's head moves lower to the side of Jeoh's face, before moving to take the smaller male by the chin and gently lift his head up for Mignon to see.] You alright..?
[He wants to check on Jeoh, but also, maybe he just wants another look at that vulnerable expression, admittedly.]
[ the embarrassment is quick to settle in and jeoh does his best to fight it off. it probably made things awkward, didn't it? if he could have kept his cool and kept from really thinking about it until he was alone later, it would have been better. unwinding his arm from mignon, he dodges mignon's gaze to scrub at his eyes for a second.
it doesn't help all that much. ]
Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry. It's just really cute, you know? I guess it caught me off guard.
[ letting out a halfhearted chuckle, he knows his tone doesn't really sell it. from how close he's sticking, at least his pulse isn't the only one racing. mignon is always so warm. ]
Sorry. [ again and it makes him wince before he tries for a smile. his eyes still sting. ] You've never bought a gift for anyone else? I'm really the only one?
["The 'cute' one here is you..!" -Is what Mignon just barely manages to NOT say, as he watches Jeoh pull away to rub at his somewhat watery eyes. Ahhh, ahh, ah..... Mignon just wants to snatch him up and squeeze him again, but it doesn't feel like the appropriate time for that now, with Jeoh being so vulnerable.
Maybe one day, Jeoh will open up and share what it is he thought about in that moment. Until then, Mignon will just count himself lucky to have witnessed it.]
Yeah, I think I know what you mean... [Although he doesn't give Jeoh another bear-hug, Mignon reaches out to briefly ruffle Jeoh's hair.] Now, no more apologizing.
Or else. [-He 'warns' with a bit of a teasing smile, just lightening the mood, before pulling his hand back and placing both hands into his pockets. Whether Jeoh is just trying to find an excuse to change the subject or not, Mignon thinks about it earnestly; looking up at the night sky as he ponders the thought.] Mm, well... Unless you count the fancy tuna I bought for some strays near the pit before?
But as far as humans go... Yeah, you're it.
[To put it bluntly-] I've never really cared about anybody else but you. Not like this, anyway... And I don't need any other friends, either.
[ the way mignon ruffles his hair makes it miles easier for jeoh to better ground himself. apologizing is something that leaves him feeling a little off balance, but even mignon's teasing helps with that and jeoh lets out a breath, folding his arms. it's easier to fall into step with him like this and his smile even reaches his eyes. ]
Of course you feed the strays.
[ it's cute. mignon is cute. he's so kind that sometimes jeoh worries he's going to taint him if he hangs around him too much like this. the admission leaves him toeing the cement with the toe of his shoe, though, feeling a little shy. it's probably normal to feel that way, what with how weird he was being just a second ago. ]
You're the only friend I have, too.
[ then he shakes his head, flicking his gaze back to mignon. ]
If you wanted more friends, I think there would be tons of people lining up, though. It's not every day you meet someone as kind and hot as you, you know? You're the best person I've ever met, so...
[ hmm. tipping his head, he vaguely gestures towards the sidewalk. ]
We should probably get going just in case someone spots you and tattles. If you're hungry, we can stop and get something on the way?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
PSL For: morninglark
But of course, the question now is...
Free to do what?
Until now, Mignon has never had to think about himself or his future seriously. Every aspect of his schedule- and even the people he was allowed to interact with- was once dictated by his former coach. -His former guardian, really.
And it's not like he misses being under the old man's oppressive thumb or anything, but to say that he's largely directionless in life at the moment would be an understatement. Without any connections, and barely any money to his name, it was difficult to even know where to start becoming an independent adult. But somehow... after a little fumbling along the way, Mignon managed to turn the life of an athlete that had been forced upon him into a legitimate career path.
Well. "Career" might be too generous, but at the very least he's getting paid. And this time, the money he earns from every fight is actually going into his pocket. Objectively speaking, his life is simple- but good. Mignon can finally call himself a "real" adult; one who takes care of himself and doesn't have to be kicked around by anyone who isn't an opponent in the ring.
So why does he feel so listless lately?
Heaving a sigh, Mignon looks up at the ceiling of the small apartment he managed to buy for himself, and finds himself feeling... well. Bored. Even despite no longer having to stick to coach's strict workout schedule, it seems like Mignon still can't quite get used to sitting around doing nothing for too long. Whether that's a direct result of all of Coach's "conditioning", or something like his own free will... is hard to say.
Regardless, Mignon puts on his running gear and sneakers; stretching as he prepares to go on a run around the block. Maybe some fresh air will help him to focus on something other than the odd emptiness of his new, coach-less apartment...]
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Though it’s a story Mignon will have never heard of, nor the general populous; of strange entities that exist within and outside the world, on the other side of the veil. Things that usually have no business mingling with the drivel of humanity. Calling them “monsters” is an insult to both sides of the coin — humans have done much, much worse to themselves, and for less than pennies on the dollar — but in those moments where a cursed miracle steps from out the other side of the fog, gains a conscience, realizes it’s accidentally materialized in the mortal realm—
But of course there are organizations that are quick to take notice.
Of course the most sensible thing to do is to run.
If there’s any justice, is that the armed scientists fast on his heels learn that a cornered fae is far more unpleasant than any werewolf, vampire, or goblin combined. He doesn’t need raw strength — just rage and curses thrown with impunity. A finger snap, a promise of retribution, and their human minds bleed straight from their orifices, bodies collapsed on the sterile, tile flooring as he flees.
By all accounts, it’s a perfect escape… with his only mistake being unaware that humans are as petty as him. Weaving a spell that will materialize him out of the facility, a shock of metal lodges into his abdomen before the incantation is completed.
He disappears from his captors’ sights, voice a howl of pain and rage as he snaps out of existence—
— And then is unceremoniously dumped into a lone alleyway as Mignon takes a sharp corner on his afternoon jog.]
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-Up until Mignon hears a loud noise to his left, and suddenly catches sight of a body collapsing to the ground in a nearby alleyway.]
Woah-!
[Startled, Mignon skids to an abrupt and undignified halt. His eyes did not decieve him- there is indeed a body crumpled up on the floor nearby, and it's sudden appearance nearly made Mignon's heart leap out of his throat. Without thinking, he immediately rushes over; anxiety building up inside of him as he moves closer towards the... corpse(???)]
H-hey, miss, are you alright!?
[In his panic, all Mignon initially sees is a slender figure, flowing hair... and blood. Kneeling down in front of the body, Mignon reaches out with a trembling hand to brush the person's pale strands aside and get a better look at their face.]
Ma'am...!
[...Oh. Maybe not a ma'am?
Anyway, forget about that- is this person even breathing? Should Mignon be searching their body for some kind of I.D?? No- before that, he should check for a pulse, right??? Moving his hand lower, Mignon goes to place his fingers to their throat in search of a pulse.]
HE DID NOT JUST CALL HIM MA’AM ROFL 😂💀
— Outside. He’s outside. Fine, alright; he can deal with that.
— But not alone, comes the next ugly realization, when he hones in on a presence by his side: a voice warm and low with concern knelt above him, blotting out the moonlight. Didn’t last but five seconds before some human discovered his body.
The fingers on his neck? Clawed aside like Mignon is forced to corral a mountain lion rather than an injured civilian. And the sharp flutter of large moth wings snapped open wide probably won’t help with the matter. His battered breath squeezes into a hiss, gathering up a curse to his lips, not so weak as to remain pliant while someone gets a good look at his face. The poor bastard chose the wrong time to take a run.
… And nothing happens.
The human doesn’t roll over dead on command.
— No, worse, he fears, when the recoil hits and there’s a pitiful wheeze of agony as he doubles over, clutching weakly at his abdomen and the wound still oozing copper. Those bastards at the facility did not strike him with a bullet; just insurance to make sure their quarry wouldn’t get too far with another spell, or leave a mountain of corpses in his wake.
… Well played, actually.]
Damn… it…
[The fight drains from him, body and wings sinking into the alleyway ground, face thoroughly exposed and pinched with pain - the only reason he isn’t glaring at Mignon like he committed some grave sin.]
Maybe Oberon shouldn't be so badbitch-coded 🤷
...No, scratch that. It's definitely the fucking wings.]
Gh-!?!
[Mignon gasps and remains frozen in shock for several seconds after the... moth-man(???) falls again; his brain needing an extra moment to compute what he's seeing. But once he's able to see the pool of blood slowly forming beneath the stranger's body, Mignon is suddenly snapped out of his state of confusion and he rushes forward again.]
Hey- you can't keep moving around, or you'll hurt yourself!!
[Now that he knows that he's dealing with a 'fighter' here, Mignon is more careful as he approaches again; removing his cloth sweatshirt and going to gingerly lift the winged man up just enough to tie the sweatshirt around the other's waist. Mignon is careful, but he's also ready to forcefully pin the other man still if need be.]
...Okay, that... should slow the bleeding a little, I think. Just wait while I call someone to come and get you taken care of.
[His hands now stained with a bit of blood, Mignon reaches down into the pocket of his sweatpants to try and fish out his phone. -A much more difficult process than usual, now that his hands are extra slippery.] Shit...
[He tries to wipe his hand off on the cloth of his sweatpants; nervous as he glances from his phone to the injured man again.]
Uh, I guess I should just ask for an ambulance...?
[That's... definitely what he should do in this situation, right?
So why is he hesitating?
Mignon's eyes flick back to the unknown entities wings once more. For some reason, he's got a bad feeling about this...]
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Trapped again, at another’s mercy. Being sent back to the other side of the veil would probably be a kinder fate.]
— D-don’t—
[Seizing up as the word drags itself from his throat, expression pinched, and the glare he sends could freeze the earth twice over. Call who? Call what? And the fuck is an ambulance? Some pretty box to ship him in once his summoners find him, he bets. The fairy isn’t so stupid as to extend a moment of trust to this stranger. Already, he can imagine a price on his head, eagerly exchanged once his capture is arranged.
The sharp taste of bile and blood stings at his tongue as he grinds out another heaving breath, ignoring the call to remain still — shoving his arms underneath him in a bid to push, sit up, and crawl, if he must. But halfway up and the last of his strength gives.
Gravity slams him back into place. He doesn’t move again. Just gasps tightly and closes his eyes, and tries to plan for the inevitable.]
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It seems like, for some reason, this guy thinks it would be bad if Mignon were to call a bunch of doctors to come and examine him.
...And Mignon agrees.
As he watches the moth-man struggle, fighting for his life with every ounce of strength he has left, Mignon feels a dull aching sensation tugging at his heart. The mysterious sensation isn't a sense fear, but a sense of... sympathy? Empathy? Admiration? Whatever it is, it has Mignon quickly changing his plans.]
.....
Okay.
[His phone is placed back into his pocket. Mignon steps forward again and bends down to take hold of the other male by the arm. Quickly, Mignon goes to lift the stranger up into his arms; cradling his body closely. Part of him wanted to carry the man on his back- but it'd be easier to keep the winged man restrained if Mignon holds the other to his chest instead. The last thing he wants is to see the poor thing drop to the ground again if he were to start lashing out again.]
In that case... I'm taking you home for now.
Don't die, okay?
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… And just like lightning it dulls quickly with the moment passed, color receding back into a normal hue once the pain resumes and he accepts his fate to dangle helpless in the other’s grip. He’s stopped counting the injustices at this point. Carry him directly into the sea and drown him, he doesn’t care. He’s too busy distracted by the strange weightlessness that floods his senses, wings uselessly bunched between his back and the human’s arms, but still.
Almost like flying. It isn’t unpleasant.
His head rocks back and forth, purposefully suspended away from the other’s shoulder in open defiance, until he tires with his own stubbornness and finally cedes - drops his temple against the human’s chest and sighs, irritable, forced to admit this is a fair bit more comfortable than concrete.]
As if I’d ever.
[— He’ll raze this earth before letting the mortal realm think they’ve bested him, make no mistake. All of this is a setback at worst. Give it time. Take him to this “home” so he can recuperate, and then he’ll be showing everyone why they would have been better off summoning the devil than an angry fae.
Eyes closing once more, the next breath he takes is not nearly as pained. More soft and exhausted, and carrying a casual warning in a honeyed tenor.]
You’ll be regretting this, human.
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In any case, Mignon shifts the other male's weight in his arms, trying to allow him as much comfort as possible. Even so, it seems like the guy is doing his best to avoid leaning on Mignon. This guy's got a lot of pride... Or rather, perhaps it's more accurate to say that he's surprisingly strong, for someone who initially looked so delicate...]
Heh.
[Despite the circumstances, Mignon finds himself exhaling a small puff of laughter at the other's response to his simple "request". He might not be physically lashing out, but the guy's personality is still pretty lively. -Which makes it even more amusing when the winged man finally succumbs to exhaustion and leans against Mignon's shoulder.
Cute...
...But on second thought, maybe that's also not a good thing.
Mignon is honestly a little worried that the stranger might not open his eyes again if he were to fall asleep now. The threat exhaled against Mignon's shoulder is oddly reassuring, in a way; a clear indication that the guy really hasn't given up yet.
Maybe it's better to keep him talking for a bit longer.]
"Mignon". That's my name.
What should I call you, huh? You've got wings, and you came out of nowhere, so...
Maybe "Angel"?
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But a fae who gives out their True Name is indeed a dead one; entirely too much power to be handing over to a human, even one who has been strangely amiable to the idea of sheltering him for the night.
— That nickname, though.
Absolutely the fuck not.
Eyes opening up for what feels like the fiftieth time, the fairy nails his savior with a look of utter disapproval.]
Call me that even once, and I will curse your entire family line, thank you.
[— Mm. Perhaps a little on the nose with his threat, he realizes, once his irritation is spent. They’ve yet to reach the human’s abode, and he isn’t sure if the man will abandon him if angered. Play it cool, then. At least attempt to seem frail. Disregard how acting like a weak insect makes him want to set fire to the city; the important part is to survive.
Chewing on his tongue, the fairy swallows down his pride and settles again, bundled neatly in the other’s arms — hears a heartbeat next to his ear and lets the rhythm keep his own voice steady.]
No, that was… uncalled for… I’m a bit… tired.
[Forgive me, is the unspoken demand. Only one of them is bleeding from the gut. Offer a little more grace, he asks.]
— Mignon, is it? I’m, ah… [Stalling, holding back a wince as his thoughts cartwheel. What throwaway name to give him? What passes as a fae’s name? It’s been eons since he was called to the human realm, and he can barely remember their twisted history.
…]
“Oberon.”
[Yes. He supposes that will do, for now.]
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But being apologized to afterwards? ...Now that's something new.
Mignon blinks in surprise; turning his head a bit to peek over at the injured fae's face. What a surprisingly polite guy!]
...Don't worry about it.
[Frankly-] I mean, I don't got any family left to curse anyway, so knock yourself out I guess.
["Oberon"... That's a cool name. Maybe it's a little weird that he took so long to say it, but Mignon doesn't think much about that.]
How'd you end up getting hurt so bad, Oberon? [He asks the obvious question; direct.]
Did you get in the middle of a drive-by or something?
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“Drive-by”… some archaic weapon your lot uses?
[Sounding both put-out and flabbergasted. First off — how’s he to know the exact name of whatever was powerful enough to screw up his mystics? That would require admittance, and that’s the last thing Oberon feels like fessing up to.
— Damn, but if even the civilians can put a name to such acts, the humans have certainly leveled up since the last time he came to this realm. Just all manner of destruction. It makes the current one carrying him that much more of an oddity. A surprise.
He hates goddamn surprises.
Irritation still barely restrained, Oberon peers at the other from the cover of his lashes, on the hunt for slip-up]
Enough with your inquiries. If you’ve feel like interrogating me, call your a’cursed ambulance instead.
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[Mignon cants his head to the side; finding himself chasing after Oberon's gaze. Seems he really doesn't want to talk about whatever it was that happened to him. Poor guy must have seriously had it rough.]
Sorry... guess it's none of my business.
I'm just worried about you, is all. [He speaks honestly; brow slightly furrowed in concern.] But I won't ask any more questions if you don't want me to.
[As stated, he's a bit more silent for the rest of their trip to his place. As they draw nearer to Mignon's small apartment, the man carefully ascends the bit of steps in front of his door, and moves to balance Oberon's weight onto one arm as he fishes his keys out of the pocket of his now-bloodstained sweatpants with his free hand. The door is swiftly unlocked, and Mignon doesn't stop to remove his shoes at the entrance before immediately carrying Oberon over to the living room couch, where he moves to gingerly set Oberon down.
Mignon has very few personal items- an old but functional TV, some CD's piled up near a cheap stereo, workout gear and boxing gloves up on a foldable table... and other than that, just the bare essentials for living as the single bachelor he is. The apartment itself is tiny and mostly bare; even the couch that's probably about to get a little bloody right now is brand new. Mignon isn't really worried about that right now; more concerned with making sure the winged man is as comfortable as possible.]
Uh, my bad- I just moved here, and I don't really have a lot of stuff yet, but I've got a decent amount of bandages and some disinfectant, at least...
[A pause, and then he asks-] Do you want help taking off your clothes?
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bless Mignon for his horny math
It's like 'girl math' but worse
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TFLN overflow For: dispense
[As much as Mignon doesn't like the idea of Jeoh's boss constantly dropping in on him like that, for now, he focuses on the joy he feels at getting to see his friend soon; spirits instantly lifted by nothing but the promise of getting to spend real time with each other for what feels like the first time in forever.]
Don't worry- I can be super stealthy!!
[About as "stealthy" as a snow-capped mountain trying to sneak it's way down a street corner.]I'll meet you at the main entrance of the park, near the statue, okay?
See you soon!!!
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keeping his hood up, jeoh's stops are quick as he approaches the park, spotting mignon immediately thanks to how tall he is. at least the park isn't too busy, what with it being so late and all. with a dumb little wave and a grin on his part, he closes some of the distance between them. ]
Hey. You look pretty good for a guy who went a few rounds tonight. I'm impressed.
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Jeoh...!
[Grinning an excited grin, Mignon stops directly in front of his friend and soaks up that praise like a sponge to water; a blush visible on his cheeks.] Hehe, you think so? It's because I knew you were rooting for me, so I really focused on dodging~!
[But enough about that for now. It might not have been very long since Jeoh has last seen Mignon, but for Mignon, it feels like it's been ages since he has last seen his first and only friend's face. Unabashedly, the athlete scoops Jeoh up into his arms and gives him a big hug; paying no mind whatsoever to whoever may be around the park witnessing his very public display of affection.]
I've missed you so much!!! ♥
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how mignon doesn't have people lining up just to bask in his presence is far beyond jeoh's understanding.
still, he lets out a quiet noise of surprise when mignon scoops him up like he weighs nothing, pulse kicking into high gear. if he felt warm before, he feels even warmer now. he tries to return the hug as best he can, letting mignon melt away the stress of his day easily. ]
Yeah, yeah. I've missed you, too. [ he doesn't sound upset, smile even evident in his tone. this is ridiculous. when did he get so soft? ] Geez, I forgot how much taller you are. You even smell good after all of that. How is that even fair?
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Jeoh is different. There's something... deep and real about him, that draws Mignon into his orbit. It's not like Jeoh is always sunshine and rainbows, but even his darker emotions are beautiful. When he becomes angry or resentful on Mignon's behalf for the way he's treated, for example, it makes Mignon feel oddly warm and fluttery on the inside that someone would even care that much...
Putting Jeoh back on his feet again, Mignon releases him from his bear hug but remains close, chuckling.]
You're really good at telling a guy exactly what he likes to hear, huh? [It's hard to tell if he's even trying to be or not, but Jeoh is always so damn seductive... His clients must find him irresistible.]
Heh... y'know, this must be what it feels like to meet up with your boyfriend for a secret date. [When others look at them right now, do they see a couple? A pair of attractive college kids, sneaking around their parents backs to enjoy a wild night out on the town together? If only they could live such carefree lives...
Mignon exhales; finally feeling like he can truly relax after the stressful encounter he had with Coach earlier. Reaching out, he grips Jeoh's hand within his larger one and squeezes.] ...I really needed this. Just... to be close to you.
Thanks for helping me.
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he lets out a laugh when his feet finally hit the ground again, resisting the urge to reach for him again since they're in public. mignon is pretty easy to spot, after all. they're still within walking distance of the fighting ring, so he doesn't want to draw too much attention. ]
You think so? I've never had a boyfriend to meet up with before. Looks like you'll have to fill in.
[ he's teasing, but he knows he spends a lot of time pretending around mignon — pretending they're normal people, pretending they have freedom. he returns the squeeze to mignon's hand, color rising in his own cheeks as he offers him a grin of his own. ]
But yeah, no problem. You can crash at my place whenever as long as the timing is right.
[ since most of his appointments are at other places. the only thing he's really worried about is his boss, but he's sure he'll stay out of their hair for the night and tomorrow. probably. ]
Besides, I like you up close and personal more, anyway. Watching you fight is amazing, sure, but getting to hug you and hold your hand is even better.
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...Oh! Yeah!
Since I'm your boyfriend for tonight and all, it should be fine to give you that gift I told you about before...
[Mignon digs into the duffel bag hanging upon his shoulder for a moment, before taking out a certain bracelet. The black cat charm is then slipped onto Jeoh's wrist, using the hand that he's still holding, and Mignon beams as he holds it up for the other to see.]
When I saw this at the market the other day, I felt like I had to buy it...
I mean, don't you think it looks just like you??
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the last time anyone gave him anything like this, it was probably his mom. it makes his throat feel tight and he has to blink rapidly, looking away from the bracelet to take in mignon's smiling face. the breath he takes in is shaky and he has to hold his hand a little tighter, pressing close and wrapping his other arm around mignon in a half-hug.
it feels a little better, being able to hide his face in mignon's chest. ]
I love it. Thank you so much, Mignon. [ muffled against his shirt, but so true it hurts. it's such a small thing, but it already means the world to him and that's a little scary. ]
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Mignon's heart stutters; skipping a beat in his chest before pounding loudly enough that Jeoh might even be able to hear it now. Jeoh is usually pretty composed... He's never seen a face like that from Jeoh before.]
Erm, y-yeah... [The athlete belatedly brings one hand up to stroke soothingly up Jeoh's back, as the other pats that soft black hair.]
It was my first time buying a gift for anyone, so I was a little nervous...
[He smiles.] But if I knew you'd react like this, I would've tried to start buying you stuff ages ago, haha.
[A bit more serious, the hand at the back of Jeoh's head moves lower to the side of Jeoh's face, before moving to take the smaller male by the chin and gently lift his head up for Mignon to see.] You alright..?
[He wants to check on Jeoh, but also, maybe he just wants another look at that vulnerable expression, admittedly.]
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it doesn't help all that much. ]
Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry. It's just really cute, you know? I guess it caught me off guard.
[ letting out a halfhearted chuckle, he knows his tone doesn't really sell it. from how close he's sticking, at least his pulse isn't the only one racing. mignon is always so warm. ]
Sorry. [ again and it makes him wince before he tries for a smile. his eyes still sting. ] You've never bought a gift for anyone else? I'm really the only one?
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Maybe one day, Jeoh will open up and share what it is he thought about in that moment. Until then, Mignon will just count himself lucky to have witnessed it.]
Yeah, I think I know what you mean... [Although he doesn't give Jeoh another bear-hug, Mignon reaches out to briefly ruffle Jeoh's hair.] Now, no more apologizing.
Or else. [-He 'warns' with a bit of a teasing smile, just lightening the mood, before pulling his hand back and placing both hands into his pockets. Whether Jeoh is just trying to find an excuse to change the subject or not, Mignon thinks about it earnestly; looking up at the night sky as he ponders the thought.] Mm, well... Unless you count the fancy tuna I bought for some strays near the pit before?
But as far as humans go... Yeah, you're it.
[To put it bluntly-] I've never really cared about anybody else but you. Not like this, anyway... And I don't need any other friends, either.
You're my one and only.
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Of course you feed the strays.
[ it's cute. mignon is cute. he's so kind that sometimes jeoh worries he's going to taint him if he hangs around him too much like this. the admission leaves him toeing the cement with the toe of his shoe, though, feeling a little shy. it's probably normal to feel that way, what with how weird he was being just a second ago. ]
You're the only friend I have, too.
[ then he shakes his head, flicking his gaze back to mignon. ]
If you wanted more friends, I think there would be tons of people lining up, though. It's not every day you meet someone as kind and hot as you, you know? You're the best person I've ever met, so...
[ hmm. tipping his head, he vaguely gestures towards the sidewalk. ]
We should probably get going just in case someone spots you and tattles. If you're hungry, we can stop and get something on the way?
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