for Jag - valentine's day

[st_rummer]

Coby hadn't given much thought to Valentine's day other than knowing it was coming up – hard to miss when Caroline had exploded hearts and gold cherubs over every available surface – until he'd had to explain the holiday to Kash and his friend. It wasn't as though any of the people he was sleeping with would expect anything of him. As far as he knew, some of them weren't from worlds where Valentine's day was a thing, and even the ones who were knew he wasn't the exclusive type. He'd rather show them how he felt when he was with them anyway, because he felt it, not because some calendar told him too.

Valentine's day was just a day.

When that day came, though, being caught between happy couples happily coupling, unhappy singles who couldn't look forward to half-price chocolate, and fat foil babies with wings that felt creepier than the description, it all felt like a terrible way to spend the day. He'd gone down long enough to throw together things to eat, because he wasn't sad sack moping, but he didn't stick around. At least he'd been here long enough he'd learned to ignore the Valentine's pink of his hearts and romance room. It was as good a place as any to work on this song that was refusing to come together the way he knew it could. He sat at his keyboard, trying the melody over and over with slight tweaks, leaning over to make notes on a, yes pink, notepad he'd picked up at the gift shop, then sticking the pencil behind his ear to try another variation.

Comments

[st_rummer]

"I didn't do too bad." Coby would've been a musician if he didn't make a cent off it, but that didn't mean he wasn't glad he made enough for the things he needed. "And it was good usually, watching a bunch of people all being in love."

This year, here at the inn, he wasn't sure he could stomach it. It made him think of how much Anael would enjoy it, and made missing his angel harder than it already was.

[st_artandstoke]

Jag didn't miss that 'usually', or the fact Coby hadn't been planning on spending tonight at the bar, either. He shifted on his feet, leaning a little more squarely against Coby, as he took another drag off his cigarette, focusing for a moment on the low buzz he owed to the cake. He wouldn't ask about tonight; they'd already had one hard conversation, and that was one more than he'd planned on having. Unless, of course, Coby wanted to have one, but that would be up to him.

"Well, if you want to play tonight, I'm not going to complain," he ended up saying, looking at Coby by his side, a small smile on his lips. It was a simple offer. Either way, as Coby would say, it was all good.

[st_rummer]

Coby glanced over at Jag, a similar smile appearing for how easy it was with him. They finished their smokes, not needing to fill the space with words. And after, he went back in, leaving the door open onto the balcony, the night air cooling but not chilled yet. He played for awhile, just him and his guitar, old favorites blending from one to another. "Hey. Got any more of that cake?"

[st_artandstoke]

Jag had elected for sitting on the floor, by the balcony, and eventually ended up lying on his back, playing with fire as Coby played. It was a callback to his days with Victor, and also nothing like it at all. No one was using anyone here, and he was just relaxed in the moment, helped along by the lowkey buzz of the Flame Hands and Coby's voice as he sang.

The question had him kill his flames, and look over at Coby with raised eyebrows. Then he sat up, and stretched out towards the box of cakes, then moved over to Coby on his knees (there was no point standing up) to get it to him. "There's still quite a few," he said, and plopped his arse down again. (No point standing up. Really.)

[st_rummer]

By this point, you had to call Coby in the armchair a sprawl more than anything else, and he had to sit up some, setting the guitar off to the side, to take the box and choose a bite of the dark chocolaty one Jag had liked. his other hand smoothed over Jag's hair. Not consciously, but because it felt natural, contact and touch they both loved.

[st_artandstoke]

Jag inhaled happily as Coby's hand stroked through his hair - and smiled as he saw which cake he chose. "Like it?" he asked, leaning his shoulder against Coby's knee.

[st_rummer]

Coby mmmed around the taste of chocolate and cinnamon in his mouth. He could see why Jag liked it, the weed an excellent bonus. "You were right. Pike's a baking genius." His hand continued to run along Jag's hair, enjoying his buzz and imagining he could feel the bump from what he'd just eaten, when he knew that would take awhile to kick in.

[st_artandstoke]

Jag smiled lazily and rested his head on Coby's thigh, playing with a lick of flame, winding it around his fingers. "It's called Flame Hands, that one is."

[st_rummer]

Coby watched the play of flame around Jag's hand, distracted a long moment from remembering he wanted to answer. "No wonder it's your favorite." Chocolate and cinnamon were good reasons too, but come on, Flame Hands, what could be more appropriate?

[st_artandstoke]

"Hey, it's delicious, too," Jag protested, but lazily. He was watching the flame, too, as it wound its way around and between his fingers.

"There's something..." He killed the flame, frowning slightly, and looked up at Coby. "I think I need to talk to you about something. But this might be the worst moment. And it's a downer."

It probably was the worst moment, or maybe it was the best? Jag really wasn't sure.

[st_rummer]

His mom would say all timing is right timing, and Coby could hear her saying it. He didn't always believe it, but right now, if Jag needed to talk...

"You listened to me missing Anael and talking about my high-speed crazy train. I think we can survive a not-fun thing you need to talk about." He wouldn't go so far as to say Jag could always talk to him, for the previously discussed not always being himself. But he tried to be somebody Jag could talk to.

"What's up?"

[st_artandstoke]

It was one thing to say, hey, I want to tell you about this thing and quite another to actually do it, actually talk about it, and Jag's gaze dropped again as he straightened up from leaning against Coby's knee, a small frown on his brow.

"It's..." He licked his lips, forced himself to look up from his hands, not to create more fire, he needed to do this, not be distracted. He met Coby's gaze, his own eyes full of not quite muted emotions. "About that night. When we got into those fights, and... About what was going on with me."

[st_rummer]

The way Jag was acting, whatever it was, it was something serious. Coby sat up better, giving him his attention. He didn't have to ask which night. Some of it was a blur – they had had a lot to drink before they went back to Coby's and added weed to the mix – but the highlights, those he remembered.

"I got the idea you were going through a rough time." With Val, if Coby had to guess, but Jag needed to tell the story his way. Coby just wanted to show he knew the night and give Jag an opening to share.

[st_artandstoke]

"In a way," Jag semi-agreed. His gaze dropped for a second, but then he forced himself to look up at Coby again. "I was - cursed. It made me - fuck up everything that was good in my life, or near enough." Em had stayed. "Val and Em ended up - breaking it, the curse, but..." But it never really felt like the curse's fault, all the same. His gaze cut away again, for a second, teeth biting into his lip. "I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

[st_rummer]

Fucking – The flash of anger pulled up hurt, that his friend had been fucking cursed of all things. Knowing it had been broken eased it some, and Coby would have to be blind not to have seen the change in Jag from then to now. That'd he'd credited, at least some, to Jag and Em getting together, but maybe it had been more than that.

"I'm guessing this is one of those 'feel the need to apologize' situations we were talking about. 'Cause, dude, you don't have to apologize for having been fucking cursed. I'm sorry, that you had to go through that."

[st_artandstoke]

"I don't know if that will ever feel right," Jag admitted, hands together in his lap, rubbing at one of them with his opposite thumb. "People saying shit like that. It wasn't - it was still me. It's all shit I could've done. I would've done, in other circumstances. It didn't make me any different, it just - pulled the worst out of me." There were tears in his eyes now, but he managed to blink enough to get them under control, and exhaled a bit roughly. "So, yeah. I've never stopped feeling the need."

[st_rummer]

"That curse wasn't contagious, though, right?" Coby could see Jag beating himself up over what had happened. "'Cause you weren't the only one raising hell that night. It's all shit I did, right there with you, and I wasn't cursed.

"If anybody should be sorry, it's me. And I am." Maybe he'd been a little cracked that night, more than he usually was after Anael became such a part of him, but that didn't change what he'd done. He'd still been himself, just a side that hadn't been let out as often lately."

[st_artandstoke]

"You weren't cheating on anyone," Jag answered immediately, and licked his lips. They felt like they were buzzing, but in a wrong way. He shook his head, then met Coby's gaze again, never mind that his eyes were shining a little too hard, with the sheen of threatening tears. For the first time since the beginning of their conversation he wished they were on the same level.

"It's not - picking fights, that was just - the wrong way of getting what I wanted." Just like the way they'd fucked. The wrong way, nothing safe or sane about it. He knew better now. He had known better, but now he was doing better. He had been doing better. But... "But I betrayed Val. What we had. That wasn't on you."

[st_rummer]

Part of him wanted to ask what the fuck Val had been doing while Jag was cursed. Especially when he'd broken the curse eventually. But Coby was friends with Jag; he didn't know Val at all. Instead he stretched to reach the rum to top off their drinks.

"I don't know, man. I don't think you can hold yourself to the same standards when you're cursed. I mean, would you have cheated on him if you hadn't been? You never fucked around before you were cursed, right?"

[st_artandstoke]

"That's not..." Jag trailed off, and shook his head again, looking down at the glass Coby had just topped off for him, before bringing it to his lap. "I just meant, you oughtn't feel sorry, be sorry." He took a healthy sip from his glass, then went back to watching it as he turned it between his hands.

[st_rummer]

"Carrying that kind of guilt's gonna drive you nuts, dude." Coby could kind of understand it. He'd been all kinds of an ass sometimes. But the stuff you couldn't fix, you had to let go of.

Jag and Val had broken things off, so it wasn't like having cheated on him then would change that now. "You're doing better now. You're being better now. And the past has," he shrugged, "passed."

[st_artandstoke]

"Yeah," Jag agreed, a little distractedly. He glanced back up at Coby, just for a moment, but repeated it with more feeling," Yes. Sorry. I've been - meaning to tell you about it, but..."

He trailed off, and took a drink, the back of his eyes prickling. He ignored that, and tried to figure out how to finish that sentence, what came after that but. Tried, and failed, unable to quite get there, find words he was ready to say.

[st_rummer]

"But nothing. You've told me now, and if you think any of it's going to change what I think about you... dude, you're just wrong on that." Coby could kind of get feeling the need to apologize, but Jag had done that now, and he was missing what problem there was still, other than Jag beating himself up over things he couldn't do anything about, then or now.

"Would we have hooked up if I'd known you were cheating on your boyfriend? That would've been up to you. It's not like I feel used or lied to or anything. As far as I'm concerned, we're good."

[st_artandstoke]

That wasn't quite why Jag felt he ought to have told Coby about it sooner, but he couldn't put it into words. "Cheers," he muttered, then pushed up to his feet, a little unsteady for just a second. But he regained his balance, and stepped out onto the balcony to light up. He couldn't have remained on the floor beside Coby anymore, and he wasn't sure why.

[st_rummer]

Coby blinked slowly at Jag's back as he wandered out onto the balcony, and after a moment, pushed up out of the chair to follow. He could do with a cigarette. And some air, cool enough to clear his head slightly, but mostly to feel good on his skin. He lit up as he passed through the open door, sliding his lighter back into the pack before thinking maybe Jag could've done it without. Habit. And not wanting to treat his friend like a butane dispenser. He leaned against the railing, looking out into the night. "Happy fucking Valentine's day?" he asked after a quiet moment.