fallout

[all_that_grace]

( continued)

Fortunately this is not, to Courfeyrac, as unsettling as it might be to a man from another time period, but certainly it's upsetting. He sits on the edge of the bed and holds Sagramore tightly.

Comments

[le_desirous]

Sagramore covers his face with one hand. "He has no right--"

[all_that_grace]

"Shhh, shhh," stroking his back.

[le_desirous]

"For pity's sake let me have something to drink."

[all_that_grace]

"Shh. That's not what you need." Hand in his hair, teasing if he were at all in a state to appreciate it, comforting regardless. "Come to bed."

[le_desirous]

"I do, I swear--" but he closes his eyes against the touch and reaches a little for Courfeyrac.

[all_that_grace]

"There." Courfeyrac kisses him tenderly, easing him back against the pillow.

[le_desirous]

It works, anyway. Sagramore lies back, looking up at him miserably. "I'm sorry. He shouldn't speak like that to you. There's no reason for it."

[all_that_grace]

"It's all right. God, I've had worse. He doesn't frighten me." Meanwhile he's carefully divesting Sagramore of his pants, more parentally than amorously.

[le_desirous]

"There's no reason. He can speak how he likes to me, he has the right, but not you, Christ."

[all_that_grace]

"He doesn't bother me," a touch sharply. "I don't care. It's you I'm bothered about."

[le_desirous]

"I'm all right," with a small smile.

[all_that_grace]

Courfeyrac strokes his wet cheek. "Of course you are."

[le_desirous]

"I missed him, that's all. But I'm well."

[all_that_grace]

He bites his tongue, and drops the pants over the side of the bed before starting on his own.

[le_desirous]

Sagramore wipes his face carefully with his sleeve, with a very drunken care, and looks up at the ceiling. "I've been well. I wouldn't have shouted at him but he spoke badly to you. In the morning I'll ask his pardon; it'll be well."

[all_that_grace]

"Of course," softly.