31st Day of Achtus
The passive smiled ruefully and ducked his head, taking the patronising ruffle of hair and nomenclature from the galdor. “Yeah, sure…” he was, for once, lost for a quick quip to retort back. It was too easy to be around this mess, easy enough that Leo forgot about the fact that he should hate Kit on mere principle. “Well, you know no one else could hold a hat to your affection, and I never accept less than the best.”
Ah, they wasted no time in beating around the bush. It wasn’t a secret of Leo’s recent induction into the Bad Brothers, and it definitely wasn’t a secret about the circumstances that led to that induction. Also common knowledge - wow, Leo curved nothin go real than recognition, but not for these things - was that the passive despised his alignment with the Brothers and the fecking galdors who weren’t loved enough by their wet nurses. “Well... yes.” Rhe passive shifted uncomfortably and tuned back to face the bar, using his drink as an excuse to pause the conversation.
“It’s amazing how shite this town is that people can’t think of better things to gossip about than a fecking scrap who lost control.” He glanced back, eyebrow raised in a disapproving curve, as if Kit was personally responsible for the shallow talk around the Harbor. But the manhandling to fit under the golly’s shoulder couldn’t keep Leander angry. Leo was only tactile when it was on his own terms, and normally only when he was propositioning someone or if he already had them stripped naked with the intention of spending time more intimately than was polite for public eyes.
But with Kit, he had never minded. There was no power play here, no attempt on the galdor’s part to remind the passive of his place. Leander might have thought of the man as his brother... if he hadn’t spend so many years preoccupied with knowing the man in ways one should never know a brother. “There will always be scraps that catch my eye... and humans, and gollies, and even the odd wick,” he teased, “There have even been some who have held my attention into the next morning, but maybe if you didn’t keep disappearing, I wouldn’t need these distractions.” The passive pouted, tilting his head to gaze though his eyelashes with an expression he thought to be irresistibly innocent. It worked enough on some older women, after all.
Leander didn’t really like the idea of Kit playing host to anyone. He was, for lack of a better word, a possessive man, even jealous over things he knew he had no right to be. He said nothing about the girl Kit had staying with him: he knew he could probably say the right thing, but he didn’t trust the tone with which hen would say it. He liked the idea of the girl running for the hills, though... even if he could never appreciate why someone would willingly choose to do so.
He admitted as much, and surprised even himself with the open, genuine answer to Kit’s question. “There is so much to admire, Kit,” he responded seriously, “A quiet determination that’s observant and patient. A wonderful compassion in what you say and do. An awareness of the vulnerability of others, the sort that is only borne of a great spirit that has come through so very much to become the person you are.” Wow, maybe he was more inebriated than he thought. But, if he was honest, Leo didn’t doubt how far into darkness he was willing to follow the galdor. “So yeah, I admire you. That’s as easy as breathing.”