fourstrings | pray i pray come back to me

pray i pray come back to me

[ It costs him something, to go to Durgesh and play nice with Yuma. To joke and act like it’s not tearing him apart, like he wouldn’t bomb the place to powder just to keep Ajay away from it. But he does it; he chats and jokes, bickers with Yuma and drops in a line or two of Cantonese in the hopes of evoking that long-lost sibling affection, because he knows that if he lets her see just how frantic he is it’s going to cost him everything.

It hurts, too, not to tip his hand when they pull the bag off Ajay’s head. Things have been... unusual, since Ajay showed up on his doorstep with de Pleur. Admittedly Pagan could be viewed as having started it, given he’s the one who stripped off and climbed into the bath right alongside his guest, but Ajay is the one who kissed him. And Ajay is the one who was gone in the morning (with what Pagan can only imagine was one hell of a hangover) and had answered Pagan’s attempts to stay in touch via radio with either stoic silence or brief, awkward acknowledgement, so he too must share the blame! But the point is that they haven’t really had a chance to talk it out, and so Ajay has no way of knowing that when Pagan calls him a naughty little shit and plays it off as entertaining, that’s the only protection he can offer Ajay without provoking Yuma to do something worse.

Too many unknowns. Too many variables. There are only two things he’s certain of, but as it goes they’re rather good things in the circumstances: firstly, that Ajay Ghale is far too tenacious to simply give over to Yuma’s attentions and will definitely escape. Secondly, Ajay will not have to do this alone. Pagan has men among Yuma’s guard, of course. Not enough to make it easy, but enough to ensure there are weapons and ammo left in places they might be discovered. Enough to get a message to him once Ajay is on the move. And once that signal comes, it’s a blur of action. They can’t get a helicopter close enough to take Ajay directly to it without alerting Yuma, of course, so a jeep is sent out to collect him and bring him to the chopper. There’s a fight about that; he insists upon being in the jeep, his staff insist this cannot be permitted, and in the end Gary drives it out himself, a full half hour before schedule, just to prevent him. In the end, it’s for the best; if he’d been able to witness Ajay’s progress down the cliff he’d have lost his mind, given the game away. He damn near loses his mind anyway when they finally bundle Ajay into the helicopter. He isn’t conscious. The worst of the snow is off him so he’s damp rather than caked with ice, but his skin is waxy and cold to the touch. There are blankets, thick, soft wool, and as the helicopter takes off and Gary prepares an iv Pagan strips both Ajay and himself to underwear and bundles them into a veritable cocoon in the hopes of warming the boy up, muttering pleas for him to be alright all the while.

By the time they land the deathly chill is out of Ajay’s skin and any lingering effects of the drugs should be faded. Ajay still isn’t what one would call conscious, but he’s stirred in Pagan’s arms, murmured things – unintelligible, but enough to bring hope. And Pagan has Ajay brought directly to his room, only angry that he can’t carry the boy there himself, and slips right back into bed with him. Brushes a dry little kiss against Ajay’s forehead, begs him to be okay, and presses up close. It’s a waiting game now, and Pagan is painfully good at waiting. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're not staying with me?

[ perturbed and drowsy all at once, as if pagan means to oust him from the bed this minute. and he's trying to blink himself awake to understand that one better, pushing back slightly from pagan so he can get a better read on his expression. being curled up together like this feels like the most right thing in the world -- but if he's misunderstood something -- ]

[ well, that was... hoped-for, but not expected. The way Ajay asks isn't exactly offended, but it sounds as if there's a little woundedness underneath all the tired and the sick and the sore, and it's selfish but unavoidable that it puts a little warm glow in Pagan to hear it. ]

I am if this is the room you pick. I like it too much to let you kick me out, no matter how sick and pathetic you look.

[ Which is a double invitation, really; an invitation to what Pagan hopes he'll choose and also an out, the opportunity to pick a different room and left alone. Not that Pagan won't fuss and peck at him, but still. ]

[ it takes a moment for that to sink in properly through the fever-fog, but. then he mms a thoughtful little sound, splaying the fingers of one hand lazily across pagan's chest. ]

So this could be my room? Where I belong?

[ Oh, fuck.

It's been clear for a good while now that Pagan is absolutely in over his head with this one. He's used to being King, the man at the top of the mountain, orders going unquestioned - and then Ajay Ghale strolls back into his life with beautiful eyes in a handsome face and strong, warm hands that land on Pagan's body like Pagan belongs to him, and turns it all upside-down and back-to-fuck.

And the bugger of it all is that he knows Ajay isn't well, he knows he can't take anything he says right now as the unvarnished truth because his fever is high enough and the drugs Yuma had pumped into him messy enough that delirium is a distinct possibility, but - damn if he doesn't want it.

He sighs, and places his hand over his own chest, fingers spread between Ajay's own. ]

Yes. For as long as you like.

[ For forever, damn it all. ]

[ he sighs out another little sound at that, something pleased and drowsy. this is probably straying closer to the kind of relationship-defining conversation that they definitely shouldn't have when he's dead tired and cooking with a fever -- but there hasn't been a place in the world that's been home for him since his mother died, and now? it feels like it's found it again, even if it is in the unlikeliest of fucking places. ]

I like this bed better anyway.

[ not least of all because it has pagan in it. ]

Is that so?

[ There's a chuckle behind it, both warm and resigned at how entirely fucked he is. Pagan's heart is a bruised and battered thing and here he is, handing it over to a man in the grips of illness and what has to be one of the worst come-downs ever, a man who may not even remember he's holding it tomorrow and shatter it entirely.

Still, he hears that sigh, and it feels worth the risk. ]

You needn't have gotten yourself kidnapped to get it, my boy. It's been yours for the taking for weeks.

Your fault.

[ but he's smiling, even if it's a little fuzzy. tired, but he likes this -- the cocoon of them nestled together in the soft lamplight of the bedroom, talking in soft voices and touching just for the comfort of contact. it's something shockingly familiar for a relationship(?) that's really only a scarce few days old, but it feels right. ]

For serving shitty crab rangoon.

[ joking! mostly.

... stabbing a guy at the dinner table was definitely a little harder on the stomach. ]

Edited 2020-03-07 21:51 (UTC)

[ Well, it's something that Ajay is cracking jokes with him, and Pagan chuckles and runs fingers through the younger man's hair. It's wonderful to be close like this, warm and laughing together. ]

More fool me. I should have realized you were too thoroughly Americanized to get the joke.

No matter. When you're feeling better I'll make you jiāng cōng xiè. It's a pain in the ass to eat but worth the effort.

[ he hums as pagan threads a hand back into his hair, secure enough in this to let his eyes slide closed again. he still feels like absolute shit warmed over -- but it's a big improvement to feeling like shit and trying to huddle up to sleep in the boughs of some tree or bunkered down in some creaking old bell tower, always worried that a honey badger is going to come chew his face off or some royal army nutjob will stumble across his hiding spot.

but here? safe. warm. taken care of. ]

Tell me what else we're gonna do. [ muzzy with sleep. ]

Well, you haven't really had a proper tour of the palace yet, have you? We'll do that. I know everything's a bit dire and fortressy up front but there are some lovely gardens out back.

[ Quiet, warm, his fingers still combing through Ajay's hair. He likely won't be awake much longer - Pagan can hear it in his voice and the sound of his breathing, feel it in the way his weight goes boneless against Pagan's body. Maybe, just maybe, if Pagan can infuse this pre-sleep drowsiness with images of calm, Ajay's sleep will be untroubled. ]

There's even a little family of elephants that wander in from time to time because they figured out that as long as they don't trample on the flowers nobody's going to stop them from eating as many mangoes off my trees as they like. I'll bundle you up in something warmer than your denims and your fashion-over-function jacket and wheel you out there at sunset. The view over the lake is stunning, it lights the whole place up in pink and gold.

[ he tries to say something -- i'd like that -- but exhaustion blurs the words into something absolutely incoherent, little more than a low mumble of nonsense. and then he's out, pulled down into the kind of sleep that's too deep and dark for even dreams. it's been days since he's slept in anything longer than two or three hour snatches, but apparently his body has decided that he's safe enough to flip the switch into full coma mode.

it's hours before he stirs again, nudged back towards the land of the living by something that itches at the edge of his instincts. his first semi-conscious thought is to cast a heavy arm out and find pagan -- but when he realizes the sheets next to him are empty, albeit still warmed with body heat, it's enough to jar him further awake. he still isn't altogether there; the fever lays heavily over his awareness like a thick woolen blanket, making him feel like he's trying to grind out his thoughts through sludge.

it's stupid, because he knows he's safe, but being safe has become such an unfamiliar thing that he can't stop the prickle of adrenaline that flares along the surface of his skin, can't stop his struggling mind from trying to find the threat. he makes an effort to struggle out of the bed and to his feet, but he's fucking dizzy, and one leg buckles underneath and sends him down hard to his knees with a thump.

the answer to that is a soft clatter from the other room, and then the sound of the door starting to swing open. and that makes the panic leap up into a bright and feral thing in the back of his throat -- he fumbles for his gun where he always keeps it, underneath the pillow, and the spike of terror when he comes up empty is nearly enough to choke him. he's panicked, still half-asleep, muzzy with a fever, and --

that's why, as the door swings open, ajay ghale makes the brilliant tactical decision to nail pagan min directly in the face with a particularly ridiculous throw pillow. ]

[ Unfortunately Pagan's response to that is rather more dire than one might expect. A strangled gagging sound and his hands flying to his neck - because he'd been brushing his teeth in the ensuite, still had the toothbrush in his mouth as he heard that thump and rushed in to check on Ajay, and the force of the pillow is just enough to knock it back toward the opening of his throat.

In the end, he just spits the offending object to the floor, coughing, and wipes the foam of toothpaste off on the back of his hand. His eyes are red, now, and with his hair unstyled - fluffy in the back, hanging limply in his eye in the front - and sans his trademark swipe of kohl, he's feeling very exposed. Especially because despite Yuma's tender mercies and the bright spots of fever burning in Ajay's cheeks, the sight of him near-nude and on his knees is dangerously close to causing Pagan a physical embarrassment.

Pagan sweeps his eyes up, away from Ajay's taught stomach and the tight v of muscle that draws one's eyes inexorably towards his crotch, and focuses on his face. ]

You're up.

[ Croaky, toothbrush-abused.]

[ ajay's poor brain is doing its fucking best, okay?

because he just barely has enough time to come to terms with pagan's appearance before the man starts deepthroating his toothbrush -- and while he gets the distinct sense that he really should be doing something, there's just an empty dial tone between his brain and the Do Something parts.

fortunate, then, that pagan manages to spit out the toothbrush before ajay even recovers from his slack-jawed staring.

but! that sweeping look sparks something, and ajay's brain manages to helpfully point out that he's... very nearly naked. and he feels himself flush with a heat that has nothing to do with the fever, immediately fumbling to drag one of the blankets over himself in a messy attempt at covering up. ]

I didn't -- I wasn't --

[ back to three-packs-a-day raspy; luckily, pagan isn't missing anything particularly important. ] I --

[ fuck. he settles for just hopelessly gesturing to his own face, and then: ] Sorry.

Please, no need to apologize! It's no surprise you're out of sorts. Here, let me just -

[ All of that is directed approximately to Ajay's hairline, because it wouldn't do to make the boy feel objectified. But then he does move, and when he turns back he's offering Ajay sweatpants and a soft cotton tshirt. Hardly dressier than what he's currently in, but comfortable and better able to preserve his dignity. ]

No pressure. You can do as you please here, of course. My bed, the bathroom, my kitchen staff, all at your disposal. And if you wish to lounge around in your underwear you're more than welcome to do that, as well.

[ Only Pagan can't promise not to sneak the odd peek. Ajay may be unwell but he is gorgeous, and Pagan is only human. ]

[ it's not really as if it's a surprise, but the reminder that he's been given the run of the place is enough to bring to mind their conversation from before. and that sparks the warm and cozy feeling all over again; it's enough to dull all the edges of that misplaced waking panic, and something eases in the line of his shoulders.

it is something of a surprise when pagan passes over clothing that happens to be exactly ajay's size -- but chiffon did have his measurements and a pretty loose tongue, so maybe that's one mystery solved already. either way! he manages to get to his feet, a little wobbly but passable, and sits down on the edge of the bed without making a further ass of himself. ]

Do you -- [ hesitating, breaking off looking at pagan for a moment to take in one of the hanging tapestries instead. pagan told him to ask, but! still! ] ... I mean, is anyone awake? I can make a sandwich or something if you show me where the kitchen is.

Let's go.

[ He's certainly not going to stand for Ajay making himself a sandwich when he's wobbling like a foal just from standing, but he gets the feeling Ajay will refuse help from the staff once he figures out it's about five in the morning. Still, together they can certainly rustle something up, so he offers Ajay his elbow like asking him for a dance in a Jane Austen and leads the way, trying not to be overly solicitous about putting a hand to the small of Ajay's back when they come to the stairs. In the kitchen itself there are of course already a few staff bustling about, and there's already a huge pot of soup bubbling away - ostensibly chicken and noodle but in a tomato-y broth with an array of kyrati herbs that are mean to promote healing. And there's no wonderbread, but there is a rather nice sourdough, so Pagan henpecks Ajay into a chair before he carves off a few slices and sets about making grilled cheese to go with the soup. ]

Your mother was the very devil for this kitchen. No matter how many times I reminded her she was only a little paperwork away from being queen she'd sneak down here to gossip with the staff and make dumplings.

[ it says a lot about his coordination that he's able to go wobbling down the halls and still manage to pull on those sweatpants, but pagan steadying him at his side probably goes a hell of a long way. still, he hasn't managed the shirt by the time they reach the kitchen -- and one of the scurrying servant girls gets one look at him and gasps out a little oh! that makes ajay redden all over again.

he gets plopped in the chair, the shirt gets yanked very quickly over his head, and then he gets treated to... the very surreal sight of pagan min making a grilled cheese sandwich. (and the rest of the staff simply continuing their quiet bustle around him, instead of fleeing in mortal terror the way ajay was expecting. huh.) ]

She loved to cook. [ which is probably nothing pagan didn't know, but it's a fond memory. waking up in the mornings with his mother already bustling in the kitchen, long hair tied up in a braid to keep it out of her way, singing softly to herself. it's a surprise that the feeling stirs more warmth than it does grief -- it's been hard to think about her at all without the pain of losing her swelling up and blocking off everything else, but. ] She always said her favorite thing was watching me eat something she made.

[ it's then that one of the staff takes pity on him, pushing a steaming cup of something in his hands. it smells like some of the herbs he's learned to pick out in the wild, fragrant and earthy, and the first sip of it is blessed on his scratchy throat. ]

[ One of the girls presses a cup of tea into Ajay's hands, and it's like a miracle. Pagan can see the effect it has, a little of the furrow going out of his brow, a little of the tension going out of his shoulders. He casts an eye over the girl (woman, really, she must be 40 or so) - short, dark-skinned, wearing her hair in the traditional long braid - so from the south, most likely, which is rarer among his staff. Pieces slot into place. ]

Parul, isn't it? [ She nods as silently as she gave Ajay the tea, and he smiles and pats her shoulder. She's raising her grandchildren, if her remembers rightly. Something extra in her next pay, then. ] Good girl.

[ It's all quiet, but he's back to his normal tones as he checks the underside of the sandwich, decides it needs more browning, and gives it a friendly little slap with the spatula as he smiles at Ajay. ]

I remember.Of course, that was back in the day when eating just about anything seemed to be your favorite thing to do, but you'd still turn your little nose up at whatever came out of the kitchens if there was a chance of something she'd made instead. She pretended she was mortified at your rudeness, but I could see the way she lit up.

[ the little exchange between pagan and the kitchenhand is too quiet for ajay to overhear, but... it's soft. far softer than he was expecting considering the way pagan shrieks at that one poor guy over the radio. and really, it's a little disorienting to watch the way the staff exists in the same space as pagan; fuck, most of them seem more gunshy about being in close quarters with ajay, and he's not the one that goes around stabbing people with pens.

pagan min, man of mystery. ]

I used to have to sneak fast food. [ with a little huff of laughter. ] I was always worried about hurting her feelings if she found out.

[ and there's one of those pangs -- he remembers complaining sometimes when he was younger about the foods she'd send him to school with, upset because they weren't american enough, worried the other kids would tease him. so stupid in hindsight. ]

[ Pagan can see that - Ishwari never thought the crab rangoon was funny either, called it disgusting. But even though Ajay laughs, Pagan can see a little flicker of sadness in his eyes. God, he really does wear his heart on his sleeve. It's a miracle Sabal and Amita haven't torn him to pieces already. There's... a lot they should talk about, and he doesn't want to discourage Ajay from talking about his mother (especially not when Pagan was the one to bring her up), but it seems like too tender a wound to prod when Ajay is already so battered. So Pagan flips the sandwich and closes the distance between them, cupping a hand at the back of Ajay's head and pressing a dry little kiss to his forehead. ]

Well. I can't promise the grilled cheese will be as good as mother's home cooking or as sinfully appealing as fast food, but the soup is fucking awesome. It's what they make for me when I'm under the weather. It may surprise you to hear [ it absolutely would not surprise anyone ] that I'm not the best patient.

[ He's a raging hypochondriac about the smallest of symptoms and a colossal baby about it to boot. ]

[ !!

he can't help the little jolt that follows when pagan leans down to press a kiss against his forehead -- there are other people here! and he's been in kyrat long enough to know that it's far from the most inclusive place in the world, but. if anyone else in the kitchen bats an eye at the exchange, they sure as fuck don't show it. maybe pagan has all his guests down to the kitchen for some early morning soup and a grilled cheese? or maybe they're passing for... familial. (ew.)

but then pagan is talking again, and a larger concern takes the forefront for a moment. ] Oh, fuck.

I'm gonna get you sick. [ and then, a little glumly: ] I'm a shitty houseguest.

[ Pagan laughs at that, because Pagan isn't the one who has to deal with Pagan when he's in the grips of manflu. ]

My boy, if I was worried about that you'd be down the other end of the palace with a locked door between us. In any case, what you have might not be contagious. I did far less rolling about in the snow than you did, after all.

[ oh. that's... a good point. and one he's willing to latch onto, because he doesn't particularly like the thought of being barricaded off on the other end of the palace from pagan. sharing a bed was good. cuddling was good. watching him like this is good -- hair still mussed from sleep, eyeliner missing, standing at the stove and cooking him a grilled cheese. domestic. strangely sweeter that he might have ever imagined it could be. ]

It's cute that you think a locked door could --

[ which is when he gets cut off by another one of those fits of coughing, and by the time he straightens up again, he's being peered at by two members of the kitchen staff this time -- the woman who'd given him the tea before, and an older woman he thinks he may have seen on his last visit. the older one leans over him suddenly, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. and before he even has the chance to stiffen up in surprise, she says something in kyrati that sounds suspiciously just like the voice his mother used when she was scolding him. then she turns and says something to one of the other girls, and before he knows it? his tea is being swapped out for a fresh cup, there's a cold compress being pressed to his forehead, and the older woman is trying to shove a spoonful of something that looks (and smells) absolutely noxious into his mouth. he reaches up to catch her wrist in his hand without thinking, regrets it as soon as it occurs to him that it'll probably scare her, and then proceeds to have his mind blown when she smacks his knuckles like a misbehaving child. ]

Wait, can you ask her --

[ what that shit is, but she wastes no time in popping the spoon in his mouth the moment he opens it. he swallows almost before he can help it, and he was right, it's fucking vile, but. it also slides down the back of his throat and numbs the burning there, then pools hotly in the center of his chest and spreads out little tendrils of warmth over his abused lungs.

then both women are back to doing whatever it was they were occupied with before, as if that's that! leaving ajay stunned speechless in their wake, still pressing the cold compress obediently to his forehead and holding his tea. ]

[ And Pagan? Pagan just watches the whole thing with a sly little smile. Shobha is the longest-serving member of his staff, has been with him long enough to have known Ishwari, to know precisely who Ajay is - and more to the point, she rules the kitchens with an iron fist. Pagan Min knows better than to defy the woman who's in charge of what he eats on a day-to-day basis, and she's been there to look after him in some of his very darkest moments. If she wants to give Ajay some medicine, she's going to give him some medicine.

Besides which, he speaks about as much Kyrati as she does English, and he knows she's perfectly capable of suddenly speaking no English at all when she doesn't want to listen to him. ]

No, [ he supplies, a very belated answer to Ajay's interrupted question. ] I wouldn't let it worry you. If she was going to poison anyone around here, I rather think she'd have started with me.

[ But! The sandwich is done, the cheese melted into perfectly gooey perfection and the bread toasted golden, so he scoops it from pan to plate and cuts it on the diagonal, setting it down next to Ajay. ]

Edited 2020-03-08 05:11 (UTC)

[ okay, it's becoming entirely possible that he might be dead. as in, definitely broke his neck trying to grapple out of durgesh, and now he's in some alternate universe afterlife where pagan min makes him grilled cheese and his palace staff feel right at home bullying ajay into submission. uh?

... but apparently ghosts(?) still get hungry in the afterlife, because that grilled cheese sandwich looks like the fucking bomb.

and he tries to set the compress down so that he can use both hands to eat it, but. that earns him a sharp bark of kyrati from across the kitchen, and he doesn't have to speak the language to get the message. so, one hand for sandwich, one hand to hold the cloth to his forehead. it keeps the ladies in the kitchen appeased, at least.

but that first bite? is enough to 1) remind him that he was starving and 2) make him convinced that pagan min should give up the drug trade and cook grilled cheese sandwiches forever. it's hard to tell whether it's actually that good or he's just that hungry, but who gives a shit. half the sandwich is gone like he inhaled it, and he's already working on the other. ]

I think I'm in love. [ with his mouthful, which means he doesn't clarify whether it's with pagan or grilled cheese. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject