[there are a couple of reasons why he asked about the music, but scrolling through old text messages before Ryuji's ready to wasn't one of them — he's more one-track minding to Fantasy Costco, wondering if there's decent mixing gear to be found there, wondering if he should have looked harder for some instead of immediately blowing all his allowance on an admittedly very sharp looking tuxedo. they'd probably spent more than one quiet or listless night working their way through that playlist, and it crossed his mind in the flood of other things crossing his mind that it'd be nice to give Ryuji something new to listen to.]
[it's not all that important, just more of a buildup question to the one he had really wanted to ask.]
[in any case, there are a lot of words the two of them have come up with for each other the past half a year. cute. dork. Mufasa. Lois. Clark.]
[safe.]
[but home is a new one — veering off into uncharted territory like the planet they'd lived over for six months, and a single syllable is like a jolt straight to his heart, sending it skipping wildly around his ribcage. up until ... nearly this very moment, until the Director had pulled him to yet another universe where he technically didn't really belong, Dave had always wrestled with a thought in the back of his mind, reminding him that he had no say in where his own road was winding. that there'd come a moment where he'd have to admit that he'd already reached the end of his story, and that he had no say in when exactly he'd have to return to that final page. wander through the dream bubbles for the rest of eternity, searching for an escape, but never finding one, still looking long after the Earth that belongs to Ryuji had already been ground to dust.]
[okay, but that's not what's actually happened here.]
[it wasn't exactly his doing, but he's already somehow gone and defied the back cover snapping over him, to continue the storybook imagery. kept on walking when there weren't even any pages left to write on. leaped across two universes like it was nothing, as if that were his destiny, and not the death he'd been unfairly saddled with.]
[if it can happen twice in a row, if other people can manage it, then there's no reason why he can't figure out how to do it, too, when they fix whatever this Hunger's done to the other universes. there's no reason why he can't slam a giant middle finger on the page that says "The End," toss the entire book in the fire and choose to be home for a guy he's pretty sure he loves, even if he's not brave enough to admit it, instead.]
[Dave twists slightly, so he can better draw Ryuji into both his arms, wrap him up in a new resolve he's just gone and found, to go alongside the promises he's already trying so hard to keep. wherever Ryuji goes? he'll do everything and then some to make sure he's able to follow.]
Yeah, I get you. [sorry if he's squeezing too hard, that's apparently something that just happens when one makes a silent promise without actually articulating it. without going through the motions of the sort of oath a paladin would make to someone else, without the magic that comes alongside it. but maybe Dave will figure how those work later when he actually reads his pamphlet.]
If we do wind up in a cardboard box, though ... I get a say in what goes on the walls, right? I'm thinkin' fish nets.
no subject
[it's not all that important, just more of a buildup question to the one he had really wanted to ask.]
[in any case, there are a lot of words the two of them have come up with for each other the past half a year. cute. dork. Mufasa. Lois. Clark.]
[safe.]
[but home is a new one — veering off into uncharted territory like the planet they'd lived over for six months, and a single syllable is like a jolt straight to his heart, sending it skipping wildly around his ribcage. up until ... nearly this very moment, until the Director had pulled him to yet another universe where he technically didn't really belong, Dave had always wrestled with a thought in the back of his mind, reminding him that he had no say in where his own road was winding. that there'd come a moment where he'd have to admit that he'd already reached the end of his story, and that he had no say in when exactly he'd have to return to that final page. wander through the dream bubbles for the rest of eternity, searching for an escape, but never finding one, still looking long after the Earth that belongs to Ryuji had already been ground to dust.]
[okay, but that's not what's actually happened here.]
[it wasn't exactly his doing, but he's already somehow gone and defied the back cover snapping over him, to continue the storybook imagery. kept on walking when there weren't even any pages left to write on. leaped across two universes like it was nothing, as if that were his destiny, and not the death he'd been unfairly saddled with.]
[if it can happen twice in a row, if other people can manage it, then there's no reason why he can't figure out how to do it, too, when they fix whatever this Hunger's done to the other universes. there's no reason why he can't slam a giant middle finger on the page that says "The End," toss the entire book in the fire and choose to be home for a guy he's pretty sure he loves, even if he's not brave enough to admit it, instead.]
[Dave twists slightly, so he can better draw Ryuji into both his arms, wrap him up in a new resolve he's just gone and found, to go alongside the promises he's already trying so hard to keep. wherever Ryuji goes? he'll do everything and then some to make sure he's able to follow.]
Yeah, I get you. [sorry if he's squeezing too hard, that's apparently something that just happens when one makes a silent promise without actually articulating it. without going through the motions of the sort of oath a paladin would make to someone else, without the magic that comes alongside it. but maybe Dave will figure how those work later when he actually reads his pamphlet.]
If we do wind up in a cardboard box, though ... I get a say in what goes on the walls, right? I'm thinkin' fish nets.