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[midnightroads]

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Please see Opt-In, as contacting Bash may interact with his Scion abilities.

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[midnightroads]

ok where? and how do u take ur coffee?

[ss_buttcrack]

Arthur stepped out for a few, so you can come over to my cabin. Black coffee, usually. Had enough late nights to need it strong back when I was still working at IASA.

[midnightroads]

b there with the good shit in liek maybe 15.

It's closer to 20, Bash decides to grind and brew some of the Ethiopian Harrar peaberry for the occasion, but he knocks when he arrives.

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton hasn't noticed the excess in time because he's been too busy fussing around making last minute adjustments to tidy up. Sure, room service is back but the ghosts apparently really believe he should have those framed photos he stole from Photos At Sea up on the wall and most of the time he doesn't bother fighting it because it's not like Arthur can see them anyway, but today he doesn't need Bash coming in and getting a eyeful of his boyfriend's body putting a plastic leg through his neck. Real mood killer.

He's all smiles when he opens the door, however. Photos safely shoved in the desk drawer. "Come on in. Oh, damn, that smells good." It smells like he just walked into a high class café and it's already making his mouth water.

"It's good to see you. I've been meaning to catch up."

[midnightroads]

"Your coffee, black. Mine, doctored slightly." He passes one of the cups over, grinning broadly. Of course, as he does, Crichton has the opportunity to notice something: didn't Bash used to have a tattoo on his right forearm? It's not there, now.

[ss_buttcrack]

"Thanks." Crichton is halfway through reaching for the coffee when he realized why Bash's arm looks strange to him. Hey, wait a minute.

"Am I crazy or...didn't you have a tattoo there before?" He uses the hand not now holding the coffee to gesture at Bash's arm.

[midnightroads]

"You're not crazy, but I don't exactly want to talk about it." He sheepishly moves as if trying to cover the blank spot. "It's gone."

[ss_buttcrack]

"Oh. Sorry, man. I won't bring it up again." Right, he's supposed to be sharing good news, not bringing up sad news.

First, he sips on the coffee and makes an obscene noise of pleasure at it. "Oh, damn, that's the best coffee I've tasted in... God, years. You didn't get this from the cafe, did you? Because if so, I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

He sweeps his hand at the sofa, which has been remaining folded up since Crichton and Arthur decided to start sharing the bed, offering Bash first choice of where to sit.

"Make yourself at home."

[midnightroads]

Bash takes a plop on one end of the sofa, kicking off his shoes.

"That's from my personal stash. The beans are Ethiopian Harrar, but strictly peaberry. Ask what that is and you risk a whole Coffee Lecture. Which I'm up for, but you owe me gossip, sweetheart."

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton flops down on the other side. And his shoes were already off, so he can go ahead and just prop them up on the arm of the sofa without delay.

"Ah, the really good stuff. Thank you for sharing. And, you know, maybe if you're up for it you can talk my ear off about that in a little bit but uh, right. The gossip."

Oh, frell, he actually has to say it now.

"We both ended up dying Halloween night, which, I know, big surprise when half the ship ended up that way. But the thing is... the next morning when we both woke back up we had a lot to say to each other. Including... 'I love you.'"

[midnightroads]

"Death is a good reason to get that sort of sentiment out in the air. So you love each other...what are you doing about it? Where's your head at now?"

He watches Crichton over the brim of his coffee cup.

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton can feel those lovely eyes watching and he's fighting the urge not to curl in on himself. It's still a shocking novelty to have said he told a man he loved him and have the reaction be so... casual. It feels like a big deal. Should be a really big deal.

"Where's my head? Sometimes even I don't know." Still attached today, so there's that.

"We talked about things in our past, I told him uh... the broad strokes of what Grayza did to me... We sort of tripped into that one mid make-out session so..." Oh god, did he just admit that out loud. His hands fly up to cover his face.

"We're giving the boyfriend thing a shot," he adds, muffled behind his hands.

[midnightroads]

"You seem to be having a lot of feelings about that, Crichton. Something like fear, maybe? Embarrassment? You wanna unpack any of that? You know I, of all people, can't fucking judge you the least bit for liking a guy."

There's a warm humor tinting that last sentence, as Bash busies himself with his coffee so he's not doing a stare or anything when those hands come down.

cw: internalized homophobia

[ss_buttcrack]

Dammit. Why is Bash so good at reading him like this? (Because he's being very obvious about it, duh.)

"It's not that I'm worried you're going to judge me. I'm upset with myself that I... can't..." Nope, the hands have to stay up. He can only say this from behind a shield. "Everyone else makes it look so easy. And I'm not bothered by you or Jeff so why... why am I bothered by myself? Why does it still feel a little bit like I'm doing something wrong, even though I do love him?"

[midnightroads]

"Actual question, or is that rhetorical? Like, I can dig it either way, but I don't wanna break it all down to you if you're not up for that kind of conversation today." Bash shifts so he can prod lightly at Crichton's side with a foot, clearly not upset hearing it.

[ss_buttcrack]

Is he actually asking? He thinks about it a little before answering. Yeah. Okay. Maybe he really is. He has to do something about this because it's not fair to Arthur.

Finally, he brings his hands back down, pretending it's so he can go for another sip of coffee. Hiding from his feelings? Him?? No, there's no reason why that prod with a foot make him want to die inside from shame all over again; surely not.

"Actual question. How do I get this to stop feeling awkward?"

[midnightroads]

"Right. First two steps sound easier than they are. I know they're not so simple as I'm about to make them sound."

He holds up a finger. "One, you throw away the rulebook, the mental script that says 'guys go with girls, girls go with guys'. You're already in the process there, by your own admission. Me and Jeff don't bug you, and I bet you're fine with the guys planning a wedding coming up. But you need to really completely internalize that, recognize that what your world saw as 'normal' was just 'common.'"

Finger number two. "Then you gotta untangle your previous view of your sexuality from your selfhood. It's not that you're a different person, you just learned a thing about yourself. John Crichton is capable of loving guys, and he's still the same person he was before. Still as brilliant, still as vibrant, still as manly. Nothing about who you are has shifted substantially here."

[ss_buttcrack]

He sucks in a steadying breath and hunkers down to really listen. Still, he finds himself having to bat down kneejerk reactions to what he's being told. Right. Not easy. Throwing the rulebook away is something he's already gotten a head-start on but some things are just hard to let go of. Especially when he's been clinging to parts of the past as a security blanket to cope with all the strange encounters he's been living through. But he can do this.

It's the second point that's harder. Bash is clever, laying into his ego with those compliments to smooth the moment down. Doesn't quite stop him from feeling... stupid? Is that what he's feeling? That it took him into his thirties to learn something that seems like it should have been so basic about himself.

He counts to five, lets the breath out slowly. Nods to show he was listening and just needs a moment to mull this over.

Finally, "I just... can't believe it's taken me this long to get a clue. I went through a lot of changes already, since I got to Moya, since I got here I just..." He makes a frustrated noise. "It's never really done, is it? The learning curve goes up and up."

[midnightroads]

"And sometimes, the beliefs we have about ourselves are chunky things that get stuck in our throat and feel like 'oh no, this is here forever now, just going to die about it'. Right? But here's the thing: the opportunity to learn more about yourself and grow, that's one of the coolest fucking things about being alive. You know? Today, you know you can be into guys, or at least that one guy. Tomorrow you might find a type of music you like, or a food you hate. I know, different scale of discovery, but still meaningful. Still something that lets you go 'I'm alive and I am living.' Ghosts can't change, you know. One of the saddest things about them, they're ghosts because they get stuck somewhere along the way."

That's not in any way metaphor, that's actually just his experience of ghosts in his world. And maybe, maybe the ship ghosts too, he's not 100% sure yet.

[ss_buttcrack]

A breathy laugh comes out of him despite the misery. Bash really has a way with words. He knows that, doesn't he?

"That does put it in perspective for me..." Everyone always said Crichton was the optimist. Bash is putting him to shame. "You're right. And... thank you. For hearing me out and helping me get my head on straight. I feel like I keep leaning on you a lot for that."

[midnightroads]

"Well, I gotta be good for something beside my dick, right?" And that joke comes out easy, so very easy, like it's just something to take for granted. Bash knows he isn't smart, he knows he's not a strategist or thinker, so he can at least be kind and hope that's enough.

[ss_buttcrack]

"I'm not doubting that's good..." Crichton answers with a flush creeping up his neck, "but you got more going for you than that, dude. You're not just a pretty face."

[midnightroads]

"Well. I'm pretty okay at the parts of the demigod thing that don't involve fighting." A pause, his smile dropping off his face. "After Halloween, maybe I am good at some of the fighting shit, too, but I don't wanna be known for that."

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton shifts a little closer, until their shoulders can touch, debating if he should go full hug yet because hearing Bash talk about fighting on Halloween, knowing how Bash feels about resorting to violence, that's heart breaking.

"That's not the first thing I think of when I think about you. Not even the demigod part. That's important, yeah, but what I know you for best is how good you are at talking to people. You're insightful. You always sound wiser than your years. I never feel like you're going to...I don't know, make me feel worse about myself when I share with you. I value that about you. You know that?"

[midnightroads]

Sorry, Crichton, initiating touch like that is how you get to be the one hugged on, with a deep, heavy sigh.

"You're not just saying that to flatter me?"