expiationlogs | ( OPEN 💀 case of the glitching city )

[Oh, alright, maybe he won't start swinging without thinking about it. As far as Junpei is concerned - well first of all, he should get to punch as many awful dads as he likes, actually, but really: Charles shouldn't have to apologize for this. It's uncomfortable and awkward enough to have to share something so unpleasantly personal, just because this city is broken in some fundamental, impossible way—

He wiggles his hand out from Charles' grip and covers his hand, instead. See, no more fists, he's behaving.]

Nice thought, but you don't have to look out for me this time. I'm a mess, you're a mess, it doesn't matter, because I'm going to— [hey chat is "protect you" too weird and forward,] —you know, be there. I'm on your side.

[ for a long, horrible moment, charles thinks that this is what's going to do it, that he's going to burst into tears right then and there — he has to look up and spend a few seconds just breathing, in and out, and will the tears away from his eyes. and it's stupid, really, that the thing to get to him isn't his dad and his horrible everything but rather the freely-given kindness and care from someone charles didn't even know, like, two months ago.

eventually, he looks back at junpei, something soft and quiet in his eyes as he says, ] Well, think I'd rather you be here, though. [ instead of there, you know —

a really bad attempt at a joke aside, it's not even really a joke at all, because he means it — nothing feels quite as bad when he's here with him, and the fact this is what he truly means is right there in his eyes. ]

[Ah, the old staring at nothing to not cry trick, how familiar. Junpei pats him on the hand in what he hopes is a reassuring way and not, say, awkward and bumbling, then:]

Wait, what? [—oh!!] Oh, yeah, right. Got it.

[Sorry, he was so deep in his soulful little speech he forgot about wordplay for a second. He huffs out a noise that isn't quite a laugh, a release of nerves that have been pulled taut this whole time. He leans back with a sigh that's more of the same; somehow, it's Charles making this incredibly bad joke that makes him feel like things are getting back on track.]

Yeah, you're pretty much stuck with me, so, uh... good.

[ well, joke's on him, because any attempt at comfort from him is reassuring, no matter how badly executed.

charles doesn't quite relax, but he isn't quite so tense anymore, either — but then junpei speaks, and charles stares at him dumbly for a second, because — looks like you're stuck with me, he hears his own voice from thirty-five years ago, echoing back at him, and the thing is? back then, it had been him, deciding to run from death, to avoid passing onto his afterlife, and declaring unceremoniously that he'd be staying with edwin, who had let him.

he's not prepared for the light-headed feeling that comes from being on the other side of the equation. and he can't manage to say it — can't manage to say anything, in fact, instead just turning towards junpei and dragging him into a hug.

and then, drawing in a startled breath, as if something fundamental has changed during one heartbeat and the next (and it has, it has, junpei will be able to feel it too, the way charles' touch isn't so cold as it normally is), he chokes out, ] I can feel you.

[ because normally, ghosts... well, ghosts can't truly feel the living, it's more of an impression, the knowledge that the touch is there, at once very real and yet not. and while he's certainly felt all of their hugs before, in that particular way that ghosts do, it's never been like this. ]

[Ah, and that's better, this time when he's pulled in Junpei feels like there's been, well, he doesn't know what the word for it would be, not really. Progress sounds strange, like Charles is a problem to solve, same for breakthrough, so—he'll settle for better. Less shaky now, more solid, more resolute. Enough that, after an actual chuckle this time, he leans into the hug, which also feels more solid, in a way he can't place until—]

Oh, shit, [he says, incredulous, because that's the thing! He's felt Charles this whole time, has even gotten used to how different it is to feel him, but oh shit!! The body pressed against him now would never be able to phase through a door; he can't help but squeeze tighter, just in case. Just to verify that yeah, that is a totally non-ghost Charles, huh.]

You're— How?

[Given what they've just faced off against, and the various people complaining lately about their powers - some fundamental, core thing about them - changing, he can guess. So maybe he's just saying how to say anything at all. He doesn't particularly care about the logistics right this second.

He slides a hand up to... poke Charles in the back of the head.]

You feel that?

[ how is the question — through his shock, charles thinks it must be that the entire place is just not working right, and if it's possible for his dad to suddenly appear here, well, makes sense that these changes might just turn him human, too, doesn't it? or maybe, he thinks, this place threw his dad at him and is now trying to balance the scales by giving him this, too.

he doesn't know how long it's going to last, but, well... tightening his arms around junpei and shifting slightly to rest his cheek against his head, charles thinks that this isn't a bad way to spend whatever time he has in a human body. not bad at all. ]

Dunno,

[ he says to the first question, eloquently, falling silent again and taking a deep breath that actually feels his lungs with air. he lets the air out on an exhale, slowly, letting himself relax into the hug, the last of the tension from earlier bleeding away —

at least until he feels a tap against his head and yelps, affronted, ] Oi! [ yes he feels that?? ]

[Haha, oops— Junpei tries not to laugh, fails, and pulls his hand away to pointedly not poke again.]

Sorry, sorry! Couldn't help it. Don't get mad.

[The hand comes back with an apologetic hair ruffle and lingers there at the back of Charles' head, as Junpei really doesn't want to actually spoil the moment. How Charles is warm and alive again quickly becomes secondary to the question of for how long this will hold, and Junpei's first thought is—

Well, it's that he can badger Charles into trying the smoothies he was talking about earlier. But his second thought is it would be a shame to waste it on trying to be funny. If hugging him on this park bench is a better use of whatever time limit there is, then that's... well, that's a thing people do...

Yeah. People do this for absolutely everyday reasons. Junpei leans back just enough so that he's not continuously talking to Charles' shoulder to ask,]

So... now what? [He's already convinced of the looming threat of an unknown time limit from thinking about it once, so,] You got any things you really miss doing?

Wouldn't get mad at you, now would I?

[ his tone carries amusement despite his words being entirely genuine — because he can't really think of a scenario where he'd be genuinely angry with junpei, unless he was putting himself in unnecessary danger, maybe, but that doesn't count.

he makes a little pleased noise at the hair ruffles, though, and tilts his head back into the touch like a cat. but the same thought crosses his mind, too — this is likely on a time limit, and as happy as he would be, staying here and holding junpei for the entirety of that time until he can imprint the memory of it all so deep into the ghostly atoms that make up his brain that he'll be able to feel this every time they hug —

well. he can't just expect it to be okay, can he, and furthermore they're on a park bench and bound to get some weird looks.

so now what, junpei says, and charles is about to suggest that they do, in fact, go try the smoothies because why not, except then there's more words spoken and charles —

in the same moment, he's sitting in an old attic, freezing and with a blanket uselessly wrapped around him, holding a lantern and talking to a ghost he's just met, and he hears himself ask if there's anything edwin misses from being alive, hears himself say "think i'd miss kissing" and —

no, nope, that's it, his brain is done, all systems offline, charles.exe has stopped working. because now that the thought is there it's not leaving, and charles can feel himself open his mouth and then promptly close it again, while his mind is stuck on some weird loop of remembering junpei leaning into his hug in the storage room, his delighted laughter in his room back at the inn, his stupidly endearing jokes, the way he'd looked, earlier, stepping between charles and his dad, radiating fury —

what, thinks charles, rather helplessly, before he manages to say, slightly strained, ] Uh, can't really say.

[ and he just hopes junpei takes that to mean that he doesn't know, rather than him literally being unable to get the words out of his mouth, because the last thing he needs is to give his brain any more bad ideas by speaking the words out loud. ]

[Ah, Charles really has to stop saying things like that, or Junpei won't know what to do with himself. He already feels like Charles has given him the biggest pass of all time - taking care of him while he was being a bitchy murder-crazed weirdo in a storage room - but somehow the sentiment is a lot more to think about when he's just being annoying! Jeez!

(And if Junpei feels Charles lean back into his hand and immediately threads his fingers into those curls, well, that is immaterial. An automatic response. Who could blame him for this.)

Then, with a disbelieving scoff:] For real? Nothing? You're kidding me.

[Surely he must be, or as Junpei assumes from the sudden tightness in his voice, he's simply too overwhelmed by the options to throw a mental dart and pick one. Junpei thinks he can sympathize if not actually understand; he'd have a reverse bucket list a mile long if it were him, filled with all kinds of dumb stuff like "get a haircut" and "learn to roller skate" and other little nothings.

So if Charles can't think of anything, Junpei is left to come up with, only half joking,] Spaghetti?

Holy shit, [ charles says, eyes wide, because — yeah, that's true, he could actually find some pasta now. whether he's going to stay like this long enough to get some and actually eat it is another matter, but he should try, shouldn't he — ]

You're brills, [ he says then with a wide, beaming smile, darting in to give junpei another squeezing hug before pulling back with a, ] I could kiss you for that, mate.

[ aaaand all right so that's that failed, not saying the words out loud, and charles smothers the urge to actually do as he's saying because it's just the human-ness in him talking, right, brought on by their proximity and it's right unfair of him to even think about it so he won’t! it's just a saying, anyway.

and then he's drawing back, pushing himself upright and pulling junpei with him, because, well, if they're going to try and find a place serving italian food they better get on it immediately. ]

For spaghetti? [—ha ha, and what an interesting turn of phrase, one Junpei has never stopped to think about before and so certainly isn't lingering on now, not that or the feel of Charles' arms or the look on his face, so thrilled about literal pasta. Ah—

No, none of that. Just the spaghetti now. Charles pulls and Junpei follows, and first he thinks maybe the inn can be convinced to give them spaghetti, but that feels like asking for disaster. Or like, hospital grade pasta.]

You're the night roamer; are there any places around here that look nice?

Spaghetti's important! [ hey, don't knock his favourite food —

but he starts racking his brains, trying to think where they are and where the places he's idly taken note of are relative to the park — eventually, he starts leading them along the path to the left in a brisk walk. all the while he's explaining, so excited his words kind of run into each other, ]

There's this one small restaurant, right in between the entertainment district and then the area round the docks, reckon that might do — I pop in sometimes to see the owners, I helped the old lady carry in new furniture a few weeks back. She's real nice, and the food looks aces, she uses all fresh herbs and shit, none of that store-bought stuff, you know? [ he actually has to stop for breath, here, because, you know, lungs and all now. ]

Anyway, even if I turn back before we get the food, pretty sure you'll like it, so it's not a wasted trip however it goes.

[This is—kind of adorable, Junpei thinks as Charles explains the entire backstory of this restaurant in one single breath. Adorable enough that he doesn't even bother pointing out that it's the middle of the afternoon and he doesn't really need a whole plate of spaghetti, this is an activity For Charles, just-]

Yeah, I bet. Sounds good, not like your usual "crayons on the paper tablecloth" kind of place.

[Not that he, a whole adult, would still draw a cool S on a paper tablecloth at a chain restaurant or anything. Maybe a single dojob face. Doesn't matter. They're going to the old lady's fresh herbs spaghetti place (tm), and Charles is being endearing about it. Junpei nudges him to go a little faster; who cares if they arrive at a sensible jog, there's pasta at stake and a time limit coming.]

[ charles, ducking his head and laughing, obliges to walk fast enough that it's really more jogging than anything else, and luckily the way there isn't long — he leads them through some smaller streets until they find a small restaurant with just two tables outside and an olive tree in a planter next to the door. charles grins and tugs junpei in behind him, calling out, ]

Hi, Madam Gia! [ madam gia, an older woman well into her sixties, has kind eyes and steely gray hair, and she tuts when they come in. ]

I've told you to call me Gia, Charles, [ she says with a shake of her head as he bounds over to her to kiss her cheek in greeting. he then turns to junpei, darting to grab his hand to drag him over. ]

This is Madam Gia, the owner of the best restaurant in town. Madam Gia, this is Junpei. I promise to bring him round more often so you've got at least someone to feed. [ he smiles brightly, a little pointed, as if he's had multiple conversations with gia lamenting his inability to enjoy her cooking. but speaking of — ]

Oh, yeah! You won't believe it, but I think I could actually eat something, though dunno how long it'll last. You wouldn't have anything ready, would you?

[ gia, immediately taking the declaration with enthusiasm and determined to find them something quickly, waves them to take a seat as she heads to the kitchen. and charles, still holding on to junpei's hand, leads him through the restaurant and out to a small patio where there's only one table, surrounded by orange and lemon trees. ]

This is where Gia and her husband eat, [ he says as an explanation, ] But she's told me I can come here if I want. So I figured... well, nicer out here, innit?

[It's an absolutely quaint little hole in the wall place, and Junpei, frankly, is expecting a slightly cleaner than normal Pizza Hut, so— well, this tiny restaurant is the fanciest restaurant he's been in in ages. Not a crayon in sight...

He's content to hang back and look around while Charles says hello, managing to get out a polite "Oh, uh, hello" for Gia before the conversation gets away from him again and then they're out on this private patio, a thing his confused perception of restaurants perceives as the fanciest table in the whole place. There are trees out here, it's very fancy—]

What? Oh- Yeah, it's... pretty?

[Admittedly, he's a little overwhelmed by the whirlwind of nice old ladies and Charles' plucky enthusiasm about pasta, but it's a good kind of overwhelmed. And they are still holding hands, which is...

Well, he gives their hands a little swing before he lets go to shuffle over and take a seat.]

She seems really nice. And this whole place smells like the food is good.

[ charles, without much thinking about it, gives their joint hands a squeeze before they have to separate to actually, you know, sit down. absently, he runs his fingers along the tablecloth, feeling its texture, taking a few deep breaths. ]

Yeah, [ he agrees easily, sounding just a bit choked, because — well, he can smell things again, can't he? the smells of food coming from the kitchens, fresh basil and garlic and tomatoes and something that might be bacon, and he can smell the trees, too, and the wood the table and chairs are made of, and — damn, he didn't know he missed a simple thing like that this much. ]

Even if I can't eat anything, just to have been able to smell all this... [ he smiles, fully content, like anything on top of this is really just extra.

he pauses, then, and adds, a touch softer, ] ... Thanks. For suggesting this, and for earlier. [ it is easier, to talk of it now, somehow, removed from the park and his mild breakdown. so his expression turns admiring as he leans back in his chair, gaze fixed on junpei. ] Can't believe you actually punched my dad in the face. That's probably like, in the top three nicest things anyone's done for me.

[Oh, and that's - a sight to behold, somehow, the simplicity of Charles enjoying their surroundings. It sparks a warmth in his chest even as he looks away to take in the sounds of the kitchen and the trees and everything else himself. He leans his elbows on the table and nods, quiet; he can only imagine the depths of what Charles is feeling, but that doesn't make him less happy for him.

Then he holds up two fingers,] I hit him twice, [which is an important point, thanks, he wants that on the record. He shrugs, like, what else was he going to do? Just watch?]

Back then, I just thought... well, I was mostly thinking oh shit, do something. So uh, I'm glad we got out of there. [a beat.] And he deserved it.

Right, you did. [ he concedes the point easily, not sounding any less admiring, because there's just something about having seen junpei, who is usually so laid-back and nonchalant and almost deliberately downplaying things or making light of them, so full of protective anger on his behalf of all things... in hindsight, charles thinks that he wasn't really able to appreciate the sight properly then, but would, if pressed, describe it as pretty damn attractive —

which is a thought he doesn't have the wherewithal to unpack right now, so under the rug it goes!

as soon as the rug is back in place, charles sighs, soft smile still on his lips, and nods. ] Not many would have done something, though. So... thanks. Really. [ a beat. ] Glad we got out of there, too. And trust me, I know. I'm the last person to go and try to defend him.

[ for a moment, his own anger seeps into his voice, as he thinks of every single horrible thing his dad had done over the years, thinks of the scars that still mar his back even in death — but he tamps it down, then, because his dad doesn't deserve even that much. he'll give him nothing, because he deserves nothing; certainly not to ruin his mood right now.

so it's a good thing madam gia interrupts them, then, carrying with her two plates of penne all' arrabiata, placing them in front of them with an enjoy your food, boys! and then, leaning to whisper in charles' ear, he's really cute, her tone both teasing and approving and charles —

for the first time in thirty-five years, charles feels a flush cover his face, cheeks and ears entirely red. madam gia laughs as she leaves them again, and charles tries to open his mouth to contradict her assumption (because, god, she's assuming things) and then just closes it again when no words come out (because he'd have to say them loud enough that junpei would hear them, and perhaps most importantly, because the phrase to contradict is "he's cute" and charles couldn't disagree with that even if he tried). ]

[He frowns, just briefly - much as he'd like to say that anyone would have done the same, he knows as well as Charles does that, no, they wouldn't have. Charles is completely right to assume people wouldn't do anything about what happened to him, clearly didn't back when he was still alive, and Junpei wishes he didn't know that to be entirely expected of people, in general.

But he clears his throat and shrugs off that thought, because he did something, didn't he, he helped get Charles out of there, and now they're—having pasta. An improvement. He perks up when Madam Gia arrives, hastily giving a thanks-for-the-food, which does look really good. Maybe he was hungrier than he thought, now that the bulk of his earlier rage has worn off...

And so it's with a mouthful of penne already that Junpei raises an eyebrow at whatever this exchange is between Charles and Madam Gia is. He watches the old woman go before turning back to Charles, idly thinking that he definitely likes her, if she can make Charles light up like a stoplight that easily. Thank god for the pasta or he'd be laughing--]

I don't know what that was, but it looks like textbook grandma behavior. Red looks good on you, by the way.

[Ha ha. Good for him, though, to have bonded with a nice old lady, given... well, given. Now Junpei can afford a chuckle, leaning his chin in his hand. He wiggles his fork, lacking the skill to actually spin it in a cool way, but the intention is there.]

She's going to be disappointed if you don't clean your plate. Come on.

It — [ he starts, and then the words "red looks good on you" hit him in the face with the accuracy and strength of a ballistic missile, and though they're entirely teasing they still make charles blush even harder, until he thinks his face is probably indistinguishable from the colour of his polo shirt.

he just clears his throat and focuses on the change in topic, then, faintly grateful for that and forgetting entirely about his reservations about actually eating something for the first time in decades (what if he can't? what if it doesn't compare to his expectations? what if something terrible happens?) — he simply picks up his fork, spears some penne with it, and puts it all in his mouth.

and god, he thinks he might start crying, right then and there. instead, though, he lets out a sound that's indecent at best, and after thoroughly chewing and swallowing, says, ]

Jesus fuck.

[ sorry don't mind him as he just takes another mouthful of pasta... has he accidentally passed on to his afterlife? because this might just be it, good food and company at the same time. ]

[Junpei has to look down at his own plate to control himself from laughing aloud again, and to not... stare, so openly and overtly at Charles' flushed face. It really does look good on him, and it really would be - awkward, to sit here and stare at him, even so. He'll just have to remember it for whenever this change reverts itself, just casually commit to memory how Charles is very cute when he blushes, yeah.

The pasta is good. Junpei focuses on the pasta, and this time he nearly chokes when Charles starts making noises.]

I-If— [ahem. wheeze. stop, it's too much--] If you and the pasta need a minute alone...

[This too is endearing, but whew, thank god they're in the private patio and not in front of other people, wowza.]

[ as charles is still chewing and won't talk around his mouthful of this divine thing known as pasta, his immediate response is flipping junpei off with a deadpan stare.

once he's managed to swallow it all, he says, a mix of defensive, embarrassed and amused, ] Well, you try and not eat anything for thirty-five years and see how you like it.

[ he takes a moment to eat some more, mindful of the time that has already passed — he doesn't know if he has seconds, minutes or hours left, so best not waste this. in-between the mouthfuls, he says, softer now, ] Bloody hell, but it's really good. I owe you for this. [ on his own, he might not have even thought of it, and would never have had this experience — and the fact that junpei actually remembered it... yeah. it means a lot. ]

[That makes Junpei laugh, holding up both hands like alright, alright. It was deserved and flipping him off is actually even more endearing than not, sorry!

It is good pasta, regardless, and he is eating it, if not as enthusiastically or with as much speed as Charles is. He's evenly split between eating pasta and watching Charles eat pasta, you know, in a normal way.]

What? No, don't worry about it. This is for you.

[And he can check it off on his special list, which he has already done mentally.]

[ that makes him duck his head, suddenly feeling a bit abashed for no discernible reason — maybe it's just that he's not used to people, you know, indulging him in the things he wants to do. so he just offers junpei a smile that's a far cry from his usual, self-confident grin, landing squarely into something more quiet, grateful.

idly scraping the last remnants of his plateful (so sue him, he had a time limit, he wouldn't normally eat this fast!), he says, ] You're really something, you know that, yeah?

[ he can't quite articulate the tangle of emotions somewhere in the vicinity of his chest, can't look at them all clearly for fear that they might just burn him with how much they are, how deeply he feels them — but, he supposes, saying something is better than saying nothing. because he can't quite bear the thought that junpei doesn't know how much all this means to him; this, everything that happened with his dad, all of it. ]

[Ah, and Junpei is ready to... not argue, but maybe to insist if he has to; this is absolutely just for Charles, he doesn't owe anything, it's nothing like a transaction - and then Charles doesn't push the idea of owing him at all, which kind of pulls the rug out from under him a bit. For a moment he's about to be the one insisting otherwise - he's just some guy, the sheer depth of gratitude behind those words is undeserved-

But then he'd be a hypocrite, probably, or something like that. However he can be a hypocrite for doing the thing Charles didn't do, whatever. He looks down at his plate and pushes some pasta around, feeling almost... shy? Which is ridiculous, because it's Charles—]

Uh, thanks. Anytime. I mean— actually, anytime. Anything you need.

[From punching to pasta, he'll figure it out.]

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

he's going Through It

mclosing it in real time

he's being so normal about everything

especially about pasta

no that he's straight up not normal about

i'm trying to pretend he's not like that about pasta

"normal" has left the chat, actually

no subject