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. ]

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[ 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. ]

[ Pagan's under no illusions that Yuma's men were bringing Ajay three squares a day, so he's assuming the declaration of love is for the sandwich. He still hums a quiet, pleased sound in the back of his throat at the sound of it, though. ]

Good.

I was going to offer you the soup, but given the demands upon your hands right now it might be best if we wait until you're done with the sandwich. Put it in a mug for you, perhaps.

[ And oh, but this is good. He makes a point of being good to his staff, and in return they are good to him, but it's been a very long time since he shared space with someone this way. It's cosy, warm, and as much as he's aware saying so is rather fraught given their past, it feels like family.

Stupid. Pagan Min, king of Kyrat, is standing in his kitchen like a scullerymaid, a lump in his throat and his chest so tight it's almost painful, because a handsome boy is eating a sandwich he made. ]

We could take it to go.

[ because now that he's got at least half of a meal in his belly, and enough medicine and tea in him to help his lungs and his throat, the natural order of things says that it's time to go back to cuddling. (and yeah, okay, he's a little afraid the women in the kitchen will bully more medicine down his throat.) ]

Unless you've got rules about eating in bed.

Oh, I strongly encourage eating in bed.

[ And really, it's a miracle he's not waggling his eyebrows. Still, he does grab a mug of soup for Ajay and one from a pot of tea for himself, ready to head back upstairs. ]

You've a wonderful point though. Let's get you all bundled up. Thank you, ladies, for your kind attention. I'll try to stay out of your way in the future.

Yeah, uh. Thanks for everything.

[ not entirely sure if all of them understand him, but. it sends a little titter of laughter through them, and then they fall back into conversation amongst themselves, so he's counting that as a dismissal. so! following after pagan like a stray duckling, marveling a little at how steady his legs are underneath him. whether it's kyrati medicine or grilled cheese sandwiches, the stuff in the kitchen is good shit.

still. that doesn't stop him from thwumping himself right back down on pagan's bed the moment he's back in the bedroom. he loves this bed. ]

[ Oh, there's... there's something wonderful about watching Ajay go from the slightly overwhelmed way he deals with the kitchen staff to flopping onto the bed like he belongs there. And really, Pagan's starting to feel as if he does. It's been less than 24 hours since he brought Ajay back here, and he's already nestled in and made a home of Pagan's room. And of his heart. Still. He sets the mugs down, climbs onto the bed and nudges at Ajay until he can slip an arm under him, just wanting the closeness. ]

You look like you've perked up. My girls know what they're doing, hm?

[ he mms a little sound that's warm and pleased as pagan slips into bed with him, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to roll over and nestle up until they're cuddled up comfortably. if he could, he'd laugh at all his previous worries that staying would make things more complicated -- they fit together like they've been doing it for ages, and it feels right.

... except.

pagan is wearing a dress shirt and slacks, and the clothes feel stiff compared to the softness of the sheets and what ajay has on. plus?? for some fucking reason?? the man is wearing a belt, which means ajay can't even tug his shirt untucked and get a hand on bare skin.

unacceptable. ]

Why are you dressed for a job interview? [ huffing into his shoulder. ]

This is how I dress.

[ and okay, maybe he sounds a little wounded, because he chose this outfit specifically to appeal - colours he looks good in, the slacks in light, breathable linen. And he's not even lying - it's essentially his daily uniform, ready to have a blazer or coat or waistcoat added as the occasion demands.

It's practical! And he's pouting. ]

[ okay, smart enough to apply a little salve here. ]

And you look good. [ punctuating it with an open-mouthed kiss at the hollow under pagan's jaw. ]

But I like getting to see the you that only I get to see.

[ Listen! Pagan is smart enough to know he's being played. He's just... deciding that maybe, on this occasion, it's worth it to let himself be played, because that little kiss is so warm and the coaxing is so familiar already. He snorts just loudly enough to let Ajay know that he's onto him and rolls out of bed and into his walk-in.

His options are... limited. He finds the pants from a pair of purple silk pajamas that he's worn maybe once, preferring to sleep au naturel. There's a tshirt at the bottom of a drawer from Wham!'s Hong Kong tour, which might be good for making Ajay laugh, but it smells as if it's been in the bottom of a drawer for thirty years and the likelihood of him fitting into a tshirt purchased when he was 18 seems unlikely. In the end, he just settles on one of the tshirts he'd bought for Ajay should he need them. It's a little loose for the cut, having been purchased with Ajay's frame in mind. It's also dark red, which he'd thought would suit Ajay, and in combination with the pajama pants the whole getup makes him think of an opium poppy. But a cosy opium poppy, he hopes, and he emerges to give a dramatic sweep of his arms and a slow turn. ]

Do I pass muster?

Edited 2020-03-08 08:16 (UTC)

[ that snort gets a laugh, especially because he can't help but be tickled when pagan actually rolls out of bed to oblige him. and... well, now that they've started down this road, he's actually more than a little curious to see what pagan is going to come up with. so he rolls over onto his stomach and props his cheek up with one hand, ready to play the part of the attentive (and supportive!) audience.

truthfully, he's expecting something ridiculous. hot pink silk pajamas, maybe, or another outfit that seems better suited for a rich guy on a golf course than a day spent lazing around in bed.

but what he gets? is... nice. really nice, actually. a shirt that's a little too big on him -- which makes ajay wonder what pagan would look like wearing something of his, and that thought settles warmly at the center of his chest. it's not a put together sort of outfit at all, and it has the effect of making pagan look more... human than the figure he cuts in full king get-up. the sort of man who wakes up in the middle of the night just to make him a grilled cheese.

it's stupid to catch feelings over mismatched pajamas, but whatever.

ajay sits up, reaching out to hook his fingers in the waistband of those silk pants and tug pagan closer to him. and they really should cool it on the kissing until they're sure there's no risk of transmitting the plague -- plus, his mouth probably tastes like weird-ass herbal medicine -- but he can't resist the urge to steal one, soft and warm. ]

I like it. [ he really, really does. ]

[ Ajay's mouth tastes like weird-ass herbal medicine and cheese, and Pagan cant find it within himself to give a single damn. He lingers maybe a little longer than he should, narrowly resists the urge to suck Ajay's lip into his mouth, and instead pulls back with a smile. ]

Well, good. It was this or nothing.

[ Which he regrets saying almost instantly, because as much as a little harmless flirting is second nature to him it's one thing to do it via radio and another entirely to do it before he climbs into bed with him. ]

[ fortunately, he is feeling better, which means that flirting gets met with a little laugh. and then he's fisting both hands in that oversized t-shirt -- another bonus: not worrying about wrinking a piece of fabric more expensive than anything he owns -- and reels pagan down into bed with him. throws a leg over him and skates an arm up along his side, practically purring at the contact.

this is good. he's going to convert pagan to the benefits of easy access. ]

No complaints about nothing. But this is probably better while -- [ y'know, the plague. ] I really don't want to get you sick.

[ Oh

oh, well.

It's silly, probably, to be surprised by that. Ajay certainly hadn't been coy about his attraction last time he'd been here, and he seemed perfectly comfortable with being close before he feel asleep, but... there was still a part of Pagan that was convinced when Ajay was feeling more himself he'd feel that seeing Pagan walk away from him in Durgesh had broken something between them. But Ajay pulls him down and throws a leg over him, slips a hand up over his skin, and Pagan feels that little knot of worry leave him in a sigh. ]

I'd think the risk would depend entirely on where one kisses.

[ See? All better, and he lets a hand slip around to settle in the swarm of Ajay's back, solid and warm. ]

You say that now.

[ he sighs a pleased sound as pagan gets an arm around him, tucking himself just a little closer. it still feels like a wonderful indulgence -- all this lazy touching with no real intent -- and there's a part of him that wonders whether it's possible to ever get tired of something that feels this nice. he's going to end up turning into a lazy housecat, napping in pagan's bed and begging for pets. ]

Then a week later? Your dick falls off.

Ha! Well, at least I'd have my privacy. After last time that rumor went around nobody would believe it.

[ He's laughing though, a low rumble in his chest as he circles his hand over Ajay's back. It's good, being close like this, and he presses a little closer. Maybe Ajay had a point about the clothes after all. ]

Thank you for looking out for the welfare of my dick.

[ hang on, he has to pause here. ]

... why was there a first time people thought your dick fell off?

[ WHY IS THAT A THING ]

Oh, Yuma told them. Although I think she said it got pulled off.

[ And he grimaces, faintly. It was a loooong time ago, but some memories linger no matter how much cocaine goes through one's system in the following years. ]

I used to have a prince albert. It got... uh, caught. Nasty business. I took it out, after that.

[ the dialup modem noises from earlier are back, give him a minute.

he opens his mouth.

closes it.

... and then, after a few moments more, he tries again. ]

You had -- [ pause. ] ... a who?

[ Oh, bless. He Is Not Laughing. His eyes are just twinkling with affection, is all. ]

It's a type of piercing. Shame I didn't go with nothing after all, I could have shown you the scar.

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