jigglephysics | (no subject)

(no subject)

Life had long since become cyclical for Tidus.

He wakes up. He eats. He mulls around the house. He goes for a long swim. He comes back in, showers, heads to practice. He comes home. He swims again or practices on his own on the deck of his home by the water. He tucks back into bed again and sleeps.

The only upheavals in his painfully predictable life alone in his home come from games, the occasional night out with his team or an adoring fan and Auron's visits. He looks forward to them, no matter the context, because they tear up the heavy, grey blanket that has long since settled over him and smothered him slowly under its weight. He wants change. He wants a life without sunrises and sunsets he has to count down. Tidus wants tomorrows that come too soon and yesterdays that leave too late. He wants adventure, excitement, something to break this mold he has been shoved into as he cycles through his life in a house of ghosts and silence.

Practice never brings fatigue and coming home in the dimming light of dusk brings little hope of sleep when he hasn't worn out his reserves of energy just yet. It's not that he wants to sleep, that's just boring, but it would at least be a change of pace to get truly worn out and knocked to the ground by his own muscle aches. Nothing in this common rotation brings challenge for him anymore. It's likely why he lives for the thrill of games and the adrenaline that runs through him right before he submerges himself.

He pushes the door open and greets the quiet, emptiness of his house with a loud 'I'm home!' that seems to echo off of nothing and greet him in return. He crinkles his nose and tosses his bag of wet clothes from his practice across the room towards his couch.

"I can't think of a single thing I want to do tonight... No one even wanted to go out this time. This sucks."

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"Is that why you don't knock? Gosh... you aren't my parent, you know. What do you want, anyway?"

There's got to be some reason he's here aside from invading his space and continuing to not have any proper manners or consideration for Tidus's privacy. Did he want something? Was something going on? Or did he just want to watch over him, even now, when he was nearly an adult?

Tidus strides away from him to the railing of the deck to lean against it, glancing out at the dying sun and waiting for some kind of response from Auron. He expects the usual sparseness he always seems to get from Auron. The barebones responses are almost more tiresome than a drawn out explanation to him.

Auron laughs softly, unable to help himself, even as his gaze falls to some middle-distance. No, he's nothing like either of Tidus's parents. It seems absurd to make the comparison, despite what he's doing here. And apparently he isn't the only one who feels that way.

Not that he could understand why it's truly so ridiculous. Jecht would probably laugh too. Would have laughed, if he'd been able to stay long enough to see his attempts to acclimate, overwhelmed by the bright lights and the task set out before him. He was never all that good with children.

It's easier now.

Mostly.

Silence, huh?

He's always chuckling at him, laughing even when he hasn't said one funny thing! For such a humorless looking guy, Auron sure finds Tidus amusing. He huffs, crossing his arms behind his head and keeping his back turned to Auron as he tries to think of some better way to question him and get some real answers out of him.

"You probably... don't have to even watch over me like this anymore. I'll be an adult soon, you know. You should go find friends your age, old man. Why not go find something better to do with your time now? I'm sure you don't have to worry about me anymore, right?"

It's not like he wants that sinking loneliness of a constantly vacant house back, but maybe Auron would tell him why he's still here.

"Would you have me leave?"

It's a rhetorical question, of course, but when he asks it he sounds as serious as he always does. Auron doesn't move from where he's leaning at first, but he reaches up to adjust his collar, tugging at it with his fingers while he watches Tidus fidget and stretch with his back to him, silhouette outlined by the fading color of a sky on fire guttering out.

Auron puts his hand behind his back to push himself upright with his eyes to the ground.

"If that's what you want..."

"No. I mean... I don't know. It's just weird. You always show up, but I've never seen you talking to anyone else. It's been ten years and you're still just... here with me. Like, I'd expect you to be out doing something, living somewhere, by now. But... you're still right here, like always, only showing up when you want to."

Really, it's all rambling and some frustration. He's never known what Auron wants to be to him and it's frustrating. It's like still being alone, just with a shadow that hovers behind you from time to time to confirm you're still alive.

He's never been able to tell if Auron is permanent or not and it makes him just as frustrating as his parents had been. It's probably why he's tried to seem distant from him as he had with his dad and his mom as he grew up. It's unconvincing, it always was, but it's the best he can do given his circumstances.

In the end, he doesn't want Auron to leave. He doesn't want to be alone. He just wants something solid from him for once.

"You assume that what you see is the only truth."

Auron can't blame him for that. In the past he's opted not to spare Tidus's feelings if there was something that was necessary for him to hear, but this is one situation where there's nothing else he can say, through no choice of his own. No real choice, anyway. It isn't as though he can admit that he's from another world, or that he died almost a decade ago. No matter his intentions, nothing in Tidus's life has prepared him to believe these things.

So he carries on. It's not really so bad, but sometimes he wishes...

"I have no reason to leave. Even if that is what you want."

Instead of leaning back against the mast again, he steps up to the rail at the nose of the ship. There's the faintest staining of color over the horizon, a ribbon over the dark, flat sea, where somewhere beyond lies Spira, and Sin. Out this way the light pollution isn't as extreme, so on good nights the sky comes close to true blackness. Perhaps it's that that draws him, or the sea itself, or simply the little houseboat and the person inside it. If he's honest with himself, he hasn't put much thought into what brings him around day-to-day. Zanarkand has given him plenty of distractions in the form of this careless, mouthy, over-excitable seventeen-year old.

"You can tell me."

If he wants him to go, if he doesn't want him to go, if he wants something else entirely.

"Well, what else have I got to go off of, huh?"

If all he could see was all that he knew, what else could he consider truth? He knows there is more, much more, than what's right in front of him, but... no one will tell him the truth. Especially not Auron. It's like he loves to watch Tidus squirm in his own ignorance. His world is limited to what he presumes.

His father is dead.

His mother is dead.

Auron arrived not long after Jecht died.

Tomorrow he will wake up to routine, just like any other day.

These are the things Tidus feels he can be sure about most of the time, though he knows there's more going on here. There's much, much more beyond the horizon, but he is limited to the words he's been told so far.

"I don't..."

He frowns and directs his eyes back out on the water.

"I don't want you to leave. I just want you to decide, for once, if you're going to leave or stay. It's hard, you know? Wondering how long I'm gonna be alone again. I get sick of it."

Auron looks away from the faded sunset, noticeably silent, but not in the way that he was when he was laughing. There's no detectable trace of humor in this, not even the faintest thread, although if Tidus is looking to find it he might see it just because he wants to. His hands touch the railing, not to steady himself. It never once occurred to him, when disappearing into the city, into the flood of people between the impossibly tall buildings, that he might think he was going away. Maybe it's all too obvious what he is. It's just that Tidus, with his absent parents and his absence of knowledge, can't begin to guess at the truth. They have no sendings in Zanarkand.

Before Tidus has a chance to break the silence, Auron speaks.

"It never occurred to me that you noticed."

"How would I not notice?"

There's a little flame back under his words, heating them and making them crackle with annoyance. After this long, how would he NOT notice, really?

"You're the only one here now... there's a huge gap when you leave!"

His hands clench and his head snaps towards Auron, staring him down with indigence. He wasn't upset until now, but he hates when his feelings are ignored. For so long, people have brushed aside his wants and needs. He won't let Auron, who chose to come into his life, get away with it, too.

"Pay more attention to the people around you, old man."

The accusation he should take offense at, but he can't quite get there. He's left, sometimes for days at a time, so there's no claiming he's always given him his full attention. His wanderings never take him so far away that he can't do what he was meant to do, but that doesn't prevent him from putting himself out of reach. The gulf between them was already wide, and it's widening. In the half-truths and untold truths, in the unkind reality of his existence here. It's not a life.

The individual he has to blame for that is very far away.

Jecht, similarly, continues to operate on borrowed time.

But thinking about that now doesn't help him confront his son.

"The only one?"

Tidus is standing to his right, so in order to face him properly, he has to turn away from the sea and the sky, and back toward the city. Perhaps he leaves out of guilt. It's just — There's so much of it, he can't dig his fingers in to disentangle one reason from another. What use is there in trying to save himself? It's already swallowed him up.

"You mean, pay more attention to you."

It only took a day to lose his father, for as much as he hated him. It took less than that to lose his mother. That absence is more noticeable to Tidus than Auron might realize, even if he is used to it. He wants to be cared about, to be valued. Auron's the only person he can turn to for that, as the one that knows the real him.

Fans, teammates, they're temporary fixes... but Auron has chosen this path to being his rock. He needs to know its stable. He's waited too long to be assured of that.

He gives him a stern look when Auron looks at him, finally. He reaches out, grasping the sleeve of his haori in his gloved hand, before looking down at the boards of the deck.

"Obviously, that's what I'm saying."

Tidus can't see it when Auron smiles. Obviously.

His expression isn't fixed in place; by nature he's not a welcoming man, but he turns his arm to take gloved wrist in gloved hand anyway. It might even be encouraging, the squeak of leather and the whisper of fabric. Zanarkand's nights are warm enough that he doesn't actually need these things, the layers meant to protect from fiends' sharp teeth and ward away inclement weather. There's rain from time to time, and dark storms pass overhead that make the streets and buildings shine under their inundation, but to the people here it's nothing more than an inconvenience.

That's all most things are.

It occurs to him to question if Tidus feels the same. If he's just as bored, just as wearied, just as ill-at-ease. If he isn't looking for his own escape, knowing there's nowhere to run to. Maybe they can understand one another in some small way, after all.

But rather than asking, he says instead, in his usual tone of voice, "I made my decision a very long time ago."

His wrist is caught in a strong, firm palm and his eyes divert to where they meet. It's a rather kind touch, something he wants, and he keeps his wrist still in hopes of maintaining their contact. He wants so badly to stay the center of someone's attention. He wants so badly to believe Auron is still here because he cares about him now, rather than seeing him as an obligation. He has been an obligation for so long. Too long. He wants to be special.

He steps forward, pressing his forehead against Auron's chest, and scolds him again.

"Then make it more obvious, damn it... how am I supposed to know what you've decided when you never tell me the truth?"

It doesn't escape his notice the way Tidus holds himself as though he's waiting to be shaken free, shrugged off like a small stinging insect, or any other kind of hanger-on. When he steps forward to lean against him, Auron places his left hand on the bare back of his neck, haori falling loose from his shoulder where the other sleeve hangs free.

"I've never lied to you."

That's precisely the reason why he's shared so little. What sparse truth he could have offered, he has, and the remainder stays locked away until the day comes that something changes, and it can be opened. Or perhaps nothing will ever change. His hope for the future has long been subdued. It's got nothing to do with Zanarkand. It's got nothing to do with Tidus, either. He didn't ask to be watched over. Except now, that's exactly what he's asking for.

But the time's since past that he could say he was doing this for only one person.

"That is to say... I am staying."

"You don't have to when you barely say anything."

It's not necessarily dishonest for Auron to keep everything under wraps, but it certainly puts a distance between them when Tidus looks at Auron's back and swears he still sees a stranger, sometimes. He just wants a future that's clear and secure. He wants someone to finally hold his hand and comfort him.

At least he can get this, a hand on his neck, warm and resting so carefully. His hands move and graps either side of his haori, at his hips. He's tethering him there.

"Can you promise? I need a reason to believe you."

Well, it's not wrong. But he would rather that distance than the kind of walls that lying would raise up between them, no matter how much kindness it was motivated by. Even if the truth never came to light, Auron would know. Better to keep it in the dark, as though one day it could be exhumed and come of some use to either of them. Not much seems to mean anything in this city.

Auron touches the back of his thumb to the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

"I promise."

Easy to say, because he already has. Tidus just doesn't know it.

"Then you have to stay. I'm holding you to it, Auron... I won't let you get away with it if you break your promise to me. I'll find you and knock you out."

He's not afraid to challenge the old man to make him keep his word. He won't take a promise lightly, not these days, though his ability to trust in people can be short sometimes.

His hands move up, reaching for Auron's height, and settle on his shoulders. He keeps his forehead pushed into his chest.

"I'm not gonna forgive you, you know. I won't."

He didn't forgive Jecht. He wouldn't forgive Auron, either.

"I don't think that will be necessary."

There's a lightness in his voice, but he wouldn't take that for granted. More surprising things have happened to him. That he's here at all is one of those things, although it's no surprise to him that he kept his promise to Jecht, or that he's making this promise to Tidus now. It seems the path his life has taken — or whatever this could be called — has become almost cyclical. There should be comfort in that. It's all too reminiscent of home.

It's been a long time.

When Tidus reaches for his shoulders, Auron places his gloved hand against his back. It seems the right thing to do. His skinny wrist is hot against his bare arm, and there's tension in his limbs, his hands. He can hear him breathing, see his shoulders rise and fall with it. Whatever this place is, really, it makes no difference.

"Better that you know the consequences."

As far as Tidus is concerned, at least.

He feels the hand settle between his shoulder blades, firm and keeping him close. It's surprising. Everyone else that has lived here... would have rejected him right off. But Auron is much more neutral. He cares neither here nor there, in the end. That lack of passion for life can grate him, sometimes, but it also keeps him grounded.

He squeezes his shoulders once, hard, before taking a deep breath in and out, feeling the weight of the hand on his back rise and fall as his lungs deflate. With a short push off his toes off the ground, he hops up - hup - and pulls himself so he can be on eye level with his guardian. He swings his legs and loops them around his middle, getting close.

"I'm holding you to it."

He repeats it again, quietly. Auron promised to stay. He promised... to pay attention to him. He will hold him to it.

Auron makes a sound of recognition, soft and under his breath. He makes another, similar sound — of surprise, this time — when Tidus vaults himself up into his arms, finding without a doubt the most creative way to put them eye-to-eye. His arms close around his waist without thought, to keep him from slipping and to preserve his own sense of balance. Thankfully, Tidus's weight is negligible. Something he probably wouldn't thank him to be told, but it's easy for him to keep from losing his grip, spine straight, arms hardly straining. His heels are digging into his back.

He raises a single dark eyebrow; the one over his good eye. This close, his glasses don't hide much.

"This included?"

He's held, not dropped. Held. Securely. Auron has his arms around his back and he's keeping him up that way. It's encouraging. It brings his hands forward to dip under Auron's collar and cup his face. His thumbs brush against his face and push the frame of his glasses.

"Yeah... this, too."

He's just a little hesitant.... nervous, but it's exciting. He's close and being held. Auron doesn't look too mad, either. Despite the pattering of his heart, he grins and leans to brush his lips against his temple.

"How about a little incentive?"

Auron's lips thin when he feels the pressure of fingers on the corners of his glasses, while he waits for them to be lifted away. When that doesn't happen, his grip shifts, that simple smile blurring past his vision at the same time as he feels warm breath against the skin at his temple, like he noticed before, when Tidus's questions seemed simpler. They were simple enough for him to answer, anyway. But nothing he'd agreed to, up until now, was any different than what brought him here. Not easy for Tidus, but easy for him.

He has a slight frame, and sharp elbows that are pressed against his collarbone.

"Incentive?"

His voice is sharp, but he hasn't dropped him yet.

Tidus turns his fingers and grasps each side of his glasses frame in his fingers, lifting them up and out of the way now instead. He smiles again, face close, breath still near his skin as he presses his lips against the scar tissue running down and over his eye. It's weird, thick and a little hard. He doesn't have scars. He's never touched Auron's or Jecht's. He never knew they'd feel like this.

"Yeah. You're an adult, Auron. You get it, don't you?"

To him, it's obvious. He's done this song and dance any number of times with strangers, teammates, numerous adoring fans and the like. His heart is on his sleeve and he knows it. His intention should be clear. He pushes his glasses so they rest on Auron's head then runs his fingers through tufts of salt and pepper hair.

"Unless you're gonna push me away."

"I..."

There's a gap in the sensation when he presses that kiss to his ruined eye, bisected by the dark, nerveless line running from his brow to his cheek. It seems strange that his body still follows these rules now that he's no longer truly flesh and blood, but perhaps those are the limits of the mind. His mind is wandering. On the edge of — Something.

His chest is tight, but not because of Tidus's weight. Auron shuts his eye just for long enough to breathe in and out once.

This was always meant to be his penance, but it was about more than the mistakes he made. If Jecht could see him now...

For some reason, he always pictures him laughing. He supposes he deserves it.

"Trust me. If I was, you would know.

Are you sure?"

Tidus curls his fingers and scratches lightly against Auron's scalp as he combs his fingers through. He forgets how long his hair is sometimes, that ponytail usually hidden in his large collar. If he's going to fight with a sword, it's probably for the best. It keeps it out of the way. Still, right now, he can see it and tell its there by the taut way his hair is pulled back by its wrapping. He moves on hand decisively to the base of his skull and slides his fingers around the binding of his hair.

"Do I look unsure to you?"

His smile flashes by again before he tilts and ducks his head, parting his mouth and scraping his teeth against Auron's jaw, shivering pleasantly as he feels the stubble on his chin pass over his lips. He peppers a few short kisses along his jawline before looking him in the eye again, wily, and nabbing his lower lip in his teeth with a squeeze of his legs around his middle.

He won't kiss him. He refuses. He'd rather egg him on and get him to initiate it. He's the older one here, right?