maskormenacelogs | [closed] we were staring at our ceilings

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[closed] we were staring at our ceilings

WHO: Odin & Peter
WHERE: thE OPEN ROAD BABY
WHEN: After the first week of March. Until... later?
WHAT: The boys are heading out of Florida for a while, cementing their relationship. ~*~It's Shipping Time~*~
WARNINGS: Weed, probably? NSFW content soon enough, whoops.

[ The snacks are packed, the fort/bed's been set up, Rooty's been dropped off and the apartment's locked up tight. Peter's car has fresh oil and new air in its tires, Odin's voicemail has been set up so his fam won't panic and think he's been ported now that he'll be off the grid for a week, and... yeah. Looks like everything's set. The boys are ready to hit the open road.

Odin's riding shotgun as they make it to the border of the city, fidgeting nervously with something in his hands. It's the first mixtape he's made for Peter since they've become, you know, a couple, and he knows how much his boy likes these things. Excluding the truly primo opening track, he wanted to make it a pretty romantic experience and hopefully he did an okay job, but. He's, uh. He's not too confident. Hengh. ]

So, uh. [ There's an open packet of oreos resting in the cupholder between them, because of course there is - the seasonal kind, as Peter had requested. Odin twirls the mixtape in one hand and grabs a cookie with the other, chowing down in an attempt to ease his nerves and failing spectacularly. He swallows and breathes out through his nose, looking at Peter and letting the silence hang there. He's in something fairly casual for him, though he's already lost a couple of layers thanks to the inside heating and the leather seat warming him up well enough, and his knees are bouncing anxiously as he looks back out over the dashboard. ]

Is it weird to be nervous? I'm kind of nervous. Great waves of fear crashing down on this fragile wreck of a body. [ An awkward laugh, more fidgeting, more pauses. ] Um - you want jams? I got jams. They're not great? I hope you'll like them.

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You... you wait, hold up - hung out with you dead parents? [Peter asks, finding the nonchalance of that statement to be an invisible speed bump they've just driven over. He tries to keep his gaze forward but ends up staring sidelong at Odin anyway, stealing a raised-brow look while no cars are ahead of them. They've hit the stretches of road outside of the city that aren't so busy, weaving out of the congestion of traffic to a more peaceful pace.

He does what he shouldn't do while Odin's resting against him and that's slouch his arm around him, only keeping one palm on the wheel. The wrist that rests against Odin is the one he wears said bracelet on, fingers dragging over his shoulder when he sits back up and Peter slaps his hand back on the wheel - but not without first ruffling Odin's stupid hair.]

And, yeah - yeah. I like the shit you make me, nobody's ever really done that for me. Given me anything really sentimental and important. So I appreciate it but like, dude. Rewinding? Tell me more about your parents.

[ Odin chuckles when Peter messes up his hair, checking himself out in the rearview mirror when he can. He pats down the mats and the spikes and looks at the bracelet from the corner of his eye, and it strikes him for the first time that it was a pretty god damn romantic gift. How long has this thing for Peter been going on? He's known for a while what they have has been a long time coming, but he hasn't sat down yet and figured out when it all really started. ]

It's - an overly complicated story? [ Another sidelong glance to Peter, and then Odin's leaning forward to mess with the volume on the stereo, setting it at just the right level to talk over after having raised it a little during Hey Homies. He leans back in his seat and watches Peter drive, wondering if it would be okay to kiss him but deciding that might get them killed. ]

But, ah - you know how my world kind of... [ He makes an explosion with his mouth and does a pretty wild hand motion that, from context, clearly indicates "went to shit". ] Lucina and I and a bunch of other kids were some of the only survivors. In part, that was because we let our parents fight for us... we did our part to defend our country, but like, what could a bunch of inexperienced kids do in the face of an apocalyptic warzone that the trained royal guard couldn't, you know?

We all lost our parents. One by one. We took it on ourselves to fight and find a way to fix things, because it was that, or... give up. [ Here, he hesitates. This memory in particular is never an easy one to remember; he'd wanted to die for such a long time, thought he'd deserved it even when everyone else was doing their best to stay afloat and keep fighting. There's a moment of silence before he finds his voice again. ] Ah - long story short, we met a God, she sent us back in time, like, fifteen years, and we got to travel the world with the younger versions of our parents, trying to prevent the apocalypse before it started. All very dramatic. Makes for a cool backstory, I think.

You know their names - Lissa's my mom, Lon'qu's my dad. I could talk about them for-- pretty much forever? They're the two best people to have ever existed ever forever and ever from now until the end of time. Anything you wanna know in particular?

Lissa and Lon'qu. Why weren't you named Lowain? [A touch of humor as he takes in what Odin's said, shooting him another glance that lingers. He doesn't know what it's like to lose a parent, but he also doesn't know what it was like to grow up with two of them. Their worlds are so vastly different and Peter tends to not remember that, at least until sobering conversations like this remind him that despite the memes and wisecracking, Odin's - war trained.

Peter only got a touch of that, a taste of the apocalypse that could've happened and that was enough for a lifetime? His leg still hurts from time to time and he doesn't know how much of it is phantom pain anymore. He shifts said leg against the pedals, threading his fingers back through his hair with a ruffle that leaves silver strands in disarray.]

I'm sorry though, man. They sound like good people. Great people.

[Forward focused again, Peter stares at the license plate of a car ahead of them until the numbers no longer register. We took it on ourselves to fight and find a way to fix things, because it was that, or... give up. He can relate to that, actually. Him, the others, they all went to Cairo to try and do something - anything - to stop Apocalypse from taking the world down in flames. He hesitates in the way he asks this next question, dark eyes shooting back to Odin. Brows gently raised, expression soft:]

You ever, uh... have nightmares? Or like, other - stuff?

[ It's a joke, but Odin lights the fuck up? He loves when Peter calls him Owain, and even bastardized in passing it kills him, as does the idea of matching with his parents. Lowain!!! Fuck, his mind is blown. He laughs a little too hard for what the tone of the conversation should allow, kicking back in his seat when he does, but it all fades pretty quickly, only the warmth in his eyes a sign it was ever there. He watches Peter play through his hair and the smile slips from his face, they sound like good people sobering him as much as anything. ]

I hope you can meet them some day.

[ There's an image in his mind of Peter way over his head, trying to impress Lon'qu by talking about swords, and anoher of Lissa crushing Peter in one of her violent bear hugs and his heart aches at the thought that it might never happen. He's still watching Peter when he looks back and asks Odin that question. ]

Yeah. I mean-- insomnia, too, but. I don't get that as much with you? It was pretty bad before we spent Christmas together. [ He shrugs. We were staring at our ceilings, the mixtape sings. ] Mostly, like - hypervigilance? Like-- like I get convinced that something bad's about to happen. There are times where I feel like I'm under threat even when I'm not, so I get anxious and paranoid and jump at every sound. My dad died pretty suddenly... and I could have stopped it, but I didn't, so. Just-- I never know when something might... yeah.

[ This is bad roadtrip talk, he thinks. He sits up, rubbing at his temple and fishing through the oreos in front of them for another cookie. He takes one for himself, holding another to Peter's lips. Chow down, motherfucker. ]

[Peter takes the cookie in his teeth, but doesn't bite down. He thinks twice, taking it out of his mouth with his hand, holding it while his palms rest on the steering wheel again. Insomnia's been something Peter's deal with for a few reasons and he feels they covered that already, mutation and anxiety induced, but hypervigilance rings a faint bell in the distance of his brain for what he felt the first few nights back from Cairo.]

I used to get nightmares. I still do? Not as much, that's kinda a mix of me not sleeping well and better distractions. It's... [Stupid, he starts to say, ready to deflect away from talking about the things that bubble up inside him. But they're alone in the car and have plenty of open road ahead of them so he thinks twice about this too.]

It's not as - dramatic, for me, so I can't really compare it to what you went through I guess... but uh, before I came here there was this dude trying to end the world for us all back home? It's like a reoccurring theme, huh. He wanted to control everyone's minds or some shit, I really- ugh, I only went to try and get my dad to stop fucking helping him out and even that I fucked up.

[Couldn't even say the words. He frowns, remembering.] I almost died. It was rad.

[ Odin, at least, eats his cookie obnoxiously loudly, going for a second as soon as he's done. He's paying attention, even as he busies himself with food and drumming his fingers on his knee to the music, but all the anxious fidgeting comes to a pretty heavy stop when Peter opens up as much as he does. He swallows the oreo and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and for a second he doesn't know what to say.

How come I've never heard about this?, he almost asks, but the answer comes to him pretty quickly and it's... nice, he thinks, what he ends up settling on. He feels they're at a point now where Peter can talk about this kind of thing without deflecting, or bailing midway. He's comfortable enough with Odin to open up without relying on jokes and lighthearted dismissals because they're easier to deal with than the vulnerability he'd have to allow himself to have, maybe. Odin has a few questions, but he's nervous about overwhelming Peter and just settles on one. ]

... You almost died?

Yeah. [He says softly, brow creasing again because it's weird admitting it out loud. It's not something that really got talked about because who didn't almost die in Cairo? They all went up against Apocalypse, all risked their lives and they were lucky enough to keep them. Charles' hair was the only real casualty. There wasn't really a way to talk about it beyond the stray few words he had with Jean, even then he never touched on his own feelings.

Man, if his mother ever finds out what kind of shit he got up to...] Crack this for me?

[He holds the Oreo to the side, unable to properly twist it apart partly because he's driving but also because he just - stares forward. How best to explain this to someone who wasn't there and wouldn't know the people involved. Hell, someone who doesn't even fucking know Cairo. Peter looks out the window, focusing on trees and dirt and what might be a fat cow in the distance.]

Yeah, so... It's a stupid story, like. We went to try and stop that asshole and his merry band of losers. Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? It's a bible thing. You probably don't know it - actually, it's probably inspired by this dude now that I think about it but that's not the point. He recruited my dad and three others to help him raze the world down and wanted to like, body swap with Charles 'cause Charles is a powerful psychic.

[He waves his hand, stupid details.]

I couldn't do what I went there to do which was tell my dad he's my dad, so instead I just tried to be helpful? Distract the dude. I got a few punches in which was more than some other people might say but like... He uh, did some gross thing with the earth that caught my leg so I couldn't run. Broke it like a twig? [He shivers.] And then I was like... thiiiis close to getting my throat slit. I uh, like. Seriously thought I was gonna die. That was cool.

[Fuck.] Okay, it wasn't cool.

Edited 2018-03-09 03:12 (UTC)

[ Odin takes the cookie, twists it open and hands it back. He's carefully quiet, his attention drawn so fully and completely to what Peter's sharing that he won't even make the Oreo thing weird - he's just focused, biting back any interruptions he might have and feeling his chest squeeze tight with every passing word. To think that Peter went through all of that and he didn't have any clue? Fuck, it's just-- Odin doesn't let the nervous, insecure worry that he doesn't know Peter as well as he should take hold of him, but it curls around his lungs for a moment and it takes a lot of god damn effort to will it away. ]

Is that what your nightmares were about? Or-- are about? Being trapped?

[ It's the first thing he wants to address, but there's so much more here he wants to dig into. Peter's relationship with his dad, what happened to that guy in the end, how Peter felt during the fight... he closes the distance between them and rests his head on Peter's shoulder again, his hand settling over his knee. He hopes it's okay, suddenly, to touch his leg like this. ]

Did you-- how did you get out of all that? What happened to horse dude in the end? [ He's trying to keep his voice level, but how can he? It's scary, to think of his boyfriend in that much trouble, and he aches as this defensive flare lights up in his gut. He should've-- been there, somehow. He'll cross stars and galaxies and planes of god damn existence if he and Peter are ever separated, just to find his homeworld and keep him safe. ]

[Peter looks at his half of the cookie, feeling his appetite drop out of him and gives a little shrug as he drags the icing against his bottom teeth to scratch some of it off. After a silent moment and a swallow, he's more or less forced to focus on the topic at hand and it's probably the most pinned down about it (such ironic phrasing,) that he's been before. No skimming, no pretending it didn't happen. Just...]

Yeah. I don't get 'em much anymore, but for like a week after Cairo? Shit, I was having the worst time sleeping I think I've ever had. And that included mindgames with my sister. [He snorts to try and keep a little levity in the topic but it doesn't last long.] I don't like - the idea - I just. I don't like being pinned down? Running, moving, being fast is my thing. Anything that can stop that... it freaks me out. It's my only defense.

[And that's how he felt in Cairo: defenseless.]

But horse dude bit it. Long story short, the chick who was gonna cut my head off wasn't really the chick who was gonna cut my head off. Instead of slicing at me she went for the dude? He was ["holding my head back by my hair"] actually, that doesn't matter - she was really a shapeshifter chick I knew and she tried to kill him instead. And I didn't die. Suffered in agony with a broken leg but like, sat the rest of the fight out. My dad actually came back around and helped the rest kill the bastard, but it was... It was Jean who did the heavy lifting. Melted him to ash? Pretty metal, to be honest.

[There's a subtle hint of affection there but not because they dated - just subtle admiration for a fellow mutant. He does now know more of how she felt in that moment and wonders if he should've asked her more questions. Comforted her more? But that's not a road trip talk. That doesn't even matter anymore unless she ever reappears. And as the days turn to weeks and the weeks to months, that really doesn't seem likely.]

I had a cast for a week or two. Worst weeks of my life. I don't... talk about it a lot. I don't think I've even told Magnus about it.

[ Odin, uh - fuck. Um. He opens and closes his mouth like a particularly uncomfortable goldfish. ]

Sorry for the sexts. Where I talked about tying you up? And riding your dick. And all that. Pinning you down? I talked a lot about pinning you down. And... yeah. [ Haha... ha. He buries his face in Peter's arm, equal parts awkward and sort of guilty. Already, though, he wants them to pull over on the side of the road and move to the back of the station wagon - to talk about this on blankets with held hands, to listen to the mixtape and the rumble of cars over asphalt without the whitenoise of the AC and their own engine. He doesn't ask.

It's a shitty feeling, and it's one he manages to completely sail past after it hits him, but there's a brief pang of jealousy at the mention of Jean, as well as the affection it's spoken with. He gets it, though - he feels the same about Cynthia and Inigo and Brady and Morgan and Severa and all the others from back home, the kids he grew up with who were capable of so much and saved so many. He closes his eyes and moves his arm further up Peter's leg, curling it around his waist in a loose hug, and he breathes out, thinking through what he wants to say before he says it. ]

That's a lot to carry on your own, though. I'm glad you told me. You, uh - you know that you can talk to me about this shit any time you want, yeah? [ He opens his eyes, watches the clouds pass by again. Again, he thinks, he could fall asleep like this. ] I mean, god. Lord knows I have my own share of war stories I could make you suffer through.

I'm glad I told you too? [He admits, thinking it over for a beat before realizing how much he means it. There are a lot of things he hasn't found reason to bring up and the fact that they've started to surface says a lot about his comfort levels. He nudges Odin's head with his cheek, not minding the closeness.

He wonders what else they have yet to tell each other and that's equal parts daunting to exciting. That's what this trip was about, after all? Getting to know each other and secure this relationship on lock. And maybe to do a tour of America now that they've got free time and a car to do it in but still. This is already proving to be a good opportunity to bond. Over shared traumas? And, well...

He clears his throat.] Don't uh, apologize. I liked that. A lot? Is that fucked up? I don't know.

Edited 2018-03-09 04:41 (UTC)

[ He's been an open book to Peter, for the most part, but there are things he's never told anyone - what his life was like when he first came through the gate and found the old Ylisse, what he plans to do once he leaves Nohr. There's blood on his hands and there'll be blood there again and he's not sure how Peter will look at him, when he knows to what extent Odin has killed before. He pulls himself into the sidehug a little tighter and laughs through his nose, a puff of air without any sound. ]

Probably. But. [ He shrugs. If the most fucked up part of Peter getting his leg snapped like a twig is some fun new side of his sexuality he gets to explore with a person who loves him, then. Great? Great. Good job, Apocalypse. Still, he's stuck on the thought of Peter's dad and the revelation that he was involved in all of this - he'd known already that the guy had, uh, made some mistakes, but he hadn't known Peter had come so close to fighting him personally. Given that he's someone who loves his own parents so god damn much, it doesn't sit well with Odin. ]

Where do things stand between you and your dad back home, then? Did you ever get to tell him you were his kid?

[The 'probably' makes Peter feel a bit weird, a twinge in his stomach as he slouches back against the seat and Odin both. He hasn't thought that hard about delving into the weird new PTSD fueled side of kinks but they've been edging into a weird territory with the ties, choking and hair pulling. A world he likes but is having a hard time really connecting to without feeling a strange ebb of confusing shame every now and again. Great. It's probably fucked up.

He sighs.] No. I was going to? Like, I was staring at him as he was doing some fucked up shit and I had the words on my tongue. Like I - I could've said it? But I didn't. I figure one day I will but... I haven't had to do it yet. Coming here he already knew? But if he returns and doesn't remember...

I dunno. I guess I'll deal with that when it comes. [He groans.]

Edited 2018-03-09 12:51 (UTC)

[ The sigh worries him, as does the groan. The last thing Odin wants is for Peter to feel bad for even, like, a second during this trip, and he thinks that maybe he pushed too hard by asking about Erik - so while he listens, and while he thinks of a few things he could say, he keeps quiet and instead leans in, kissing Peter on the neck just beneath his jaw. It's a quick and light touch that's over far too soon, and it's followed by another kiss to Peter's cheek and then a third to his shoulder, all expressions of quiet and grateful affection. Silently telling Peter he loves him. That he'll be here, should he ever need to have that conversation with his dad.

He sits up with his back to the leather seat for about two seconds before deciding he's a clingy piece of shit and foregoes that plan entirely. Dropping back onto Peter's shoulder and hugging him even tighter than before, he figures he'll just stay tucked against his side like this pretty much whenever they're on the road. ]

You should have gotten one of those, um - girls? The dancing girls with the skirts. Or fuzzy dice. [ Both concepts he would have learned from Peter, scrolling through road trip photos on his phone at 2AM when neither of them felt like sleeping. If he'd known Peter had had the same idea a while back, he'd be losing his shit. ] You wanna raid some gas stations or something?

[Odin's prime distraction material for a driver and he does keep snagging Peter's eye, shifting around and kissing at him and making it kinda difficult to get annoyed because Peter likes that distraction. It eases a bit of the weird feeling in him, a jittering sort of swallowed-butterflies anxiety. He ends up smiling, weak at first but it sticks to his lips.]

Hula girls. You think one'd be good on my dash? I was thinking the dice would look sweet, too. Better than ol' Piney up there alone. [He flicks at the cardboard, sending the tree twirling on its string. It's long since ceased to really freshen anything but even in the pre-trip cleaning of the car he couldn't bring himself to take it down. This car belonged to Will and while they only talked a few times, it really feels like a part of him lingers in it. From the worn out feel of the seats to the expired cheese-its in the glove, Peter's thankful for the car.]

You can ask me more questions if you want. [He's grateful for the topic change but...]

Just 'cause they're not super fun doesn't mean we don't have to talk about them. I kinda wish you could've met my dad when he was here? If my mom ever shows up though, that's - that'll be a little more weird and important for me. I like my dad and all, but he didn't raise me. My Ma did.

[And that brings Peter back to a few spare thoughts about the whole 'coming out' thing that he's steadily avoided doing by keeping this whole thing under wraps. He wonders what his mother would think, in particular. It's weird coming into this era in a new world and seeing such an openness that had to be fought for back home, existing in the minority. And to belated realize he's part of that group, like or leave it, is still a somewhat uncomfortable journey. He's not sure why he's nervous to tell anyone. A part of it is the gay factor but the rest, well...

The last time he got excited about someone he loved, they disappeared.] I miss her.

Yeah. I wanna deck the whole place out with souvenirs. We should take lots of photos, too - of us. [ Tape them on the dashboard, maybe, so Peter will always see Odin when he's in the car. Odin imagines them, for a moment, printed polaroids hanging from old stickytape, then catches his eyes on the air freshener. ] I think Ol' Piney's a bit of a lone wolf? But. We'll break him in. Socialization is important, Piney. You can't stay locked up on your own forever.

[ He'd build a whole conversation in his head with the dumb fake tree if Peter hadn't circled back around to... all of this, the real sides of this, the parts of this conversation that actually matter, that actually mean something. The truth is, Odin would have loved to have met Peter's dad, too - he cares so god damn much about getting Peter's parents' approval and he knows that's an impossible thing to want given how America works, but fuck. he'd had a chance for something and he blew it.

Peter says he misses his mom and Odin's heart breaks just enough to really hurt. ]

I actually - yeah. I've been thinking about them a lot since Valentine's? About how much I want them to like me. Both of them. Your mom more, but-- like, both of them? I want to be recognized as... ah.

[ He trails off with a wave of his hand and a bleh bluh bluh bleh tumbling out of him. If he could take Peter's hand, he would, but instead he just... he scoots back and lays down on the leather seat, curling his legs up to fit and resting his head on Peter's thigh. It is a heinously illegal way to ride in a car, but hey. Peter'll keep him safe.

He's quiet, barely able to be heard over the soft crooning of the mixtape and the rumble of tires on asphalt. ] Just - I'm not trying to put pressure on whatever this is, and I know it's a wild thing to think about with how unpredictable the Porter is - but I want this to last? What we have. I want this to be special, and like-- eternal. If that's not dumb to say? And I guess I just mean that if by some miracle we're allowed to grow old together, or-- or attempt to, at least-- then I need to know your mom doesn't think I'm a piece of shit. She's gotta say I'm good enough for you.

I need to meet her. Someday.

[Peter can't help it, he laughs, and loudly too.] You're worried she'd say you're not good enough for me?

[Peter's grin is back on his face, even after the pang in his chest of longing to see his mom. His sisters. His stupid basement full of records and mixed tapes again. He misses all of that but maybe it's still waiting and maybe he'll see it all soon enough - what Odin says is true, life here is unpredictable and that's one thing Peter doesn't want to get into right now. How absurdly fucking terrified he is at the thought of losing this after finally letting himself enjoy it.] If anything my Ma would thank you for putting up with me or try to convince you I'm not good enough for you. Convince you to set your sights a little higher in life. Have some standards.

[He's joking and it comes through with some of the tone in his voice; the audible smiling.] She'll be sipping her rum and coke, finally happy I found someone who might pluck me outta her house for a change. She'd be fucking thrilled to have me outta her hair. She wasn't so jazzed when I decided to go looking for my dad. But she knew - she knows - that when I wanna do something? I do it. And I think she'd be... accepting, you know? And as long as your head isn't this close to my dick during a family dinner, she probably wouldn't say shit about it being inappropriate, either.

[He hopes. But she raised him as a mutant, accepting of that. Looking at it that way, it seems to make sense that she'd just roll with him being stubbornly undefined by every other social box there is. He glances down at his lap, stealing a glance at Odin when his eyes should really be on the road.] She'd get that I like you and that's all that matters.

[ Oh, man. Don't laugh. Odin makes a whole show of flopping onto his back so he can look up at Peter, pulling a face but ultimately softening. The way Peter talks about his mom - shit, he called her Ma, that's what Brady used to do - it's all very touching, and it makes Odin want to meet her even more. He's never had rum and coke, but that's another thing he wants to do now that they're on this trip together. He's going to have to learn to like them before he meets her, someday. Somehow. ]

She sounds amazing. Judgemental, obviously, if she won't let me blow you when you're carving the roast, but. [ He grins, falling quiet. Peter said he likes him. It's such an easy, gentle thing, but it makes him feel like he's floating, all this restless energy pounding through him and making him want to shout or run or-- or anything, really, to burn it off. Odin's not so easily convinced that she'll be okay with him as readily as Peter seems to think, but...

He closes his eyes, curling one arm up over his chest and letting the other dangle off the side, like he could fall asleep here, if he let himself. ]

I don't know. You're out of my league, man. She'd see that. [ He shrugs, like it's no big deal. ] My parents, though - mom would like you for sure. You'd introduce yourself and she'd be all over you, fussing with your clothes and stuffing food in your mouth before you'd even finished saying your name. She'd be so excited to meet you that you'd have to actually interrupt her to get a word in edgewise? This'd be before she even knew you were my boyfriend, too - once that secret's out, all bets would be off. She'd be asking you to move in and telling you what to name our first kid.

[ This is where he would laugh, normally, but he's caught in images of his family and Peter's family all chilling out together, their moms getting along, trading stories about their boys. It's painful and it stings and he just wants a hug from Lissa, but it is what it is. He's learned to compartmentalize all this by now. ]

Dad... was protective. You'd have to try a little harder with him. He'd come around, though. I think.

[Peter throws his head back a little with a chuckle, dropping his hand down to thread through Odin's messy hair while the other holds on to the wheel. It's not like there's anyone or anything around them at this point, the last set of headlights he saw ahead long become a blip on the horizon. This is fine. He'd actually find it kind of nice if Odin felt comfortable enough to sleep, so he massages his scalp with his fingers.]

So what you're saying is that if I obey your curfew, your dad might not hate me. Got it.

[With a deep but contented sigh, Peter notes a sign for an upcoming pit stop that's still a little ways away. It might be the best bet for a first stop on the road, but he'll keep his eyes peeled for more opportunities - all depends on whether or not he wants to wake sleeping beauty should he pass out where he lay.]

I like your folks already.

[ Odin doesn't fall asleep, but he's at the window of it, his breathing hitting long, deep strides a few head-scratches in. Peter makes a joke about his curfew and Odin incomprehensibly says nailed it through a yawn, but after tucking himself in further and shifting around like a restless cat trying to get comfortable, there's a peaceful silence that stretches between them for a few minutes. When he finally stops squirming and shuts his eyes again, it really does seem like he falls asleep for a second there, but he breaks the quiet with a gentle sigh, tugging gently on Peter's shirt to grab his attention again. ]

I can't really handle the idea that you might not meet them. [ his voice is croaky from how sleepy he is, and he has to clear his throat to push through it. ] I should be grateful enough that you've met Lucina? That you've met any of my family. But I just-- man. I just want everyone I grew up with to love you as much as I do.

[ He's tugging on Peter's shirt, still, idly playing with the fabric of it. ] I wanna tell you about everyone. I wanna hear about everyone you love, too - all the people who aren't here.

We'll have time for that. [Peter says with a soft smile, still kneading his fingers against Odin's scalp and playing with his messy blond hair affectionately. It's second nature in a way, how many times has he hushed to sleep his sisters with a similar gesture? He'll be damned if he's lost his knack for it, so he presses on.]

If not on this trip, then after it. 'Cause I don't really see much changing for us if you don't? I mean, like, you'll chill at my place or me at yours, like always? Plenty of time to talk parents and family history and to tell you the wicked story of when I fell out of a tree as a kid. Broke my wrist like a dumbass.

Mm.

[ Again, he's close to falling asleep, a long stretch of silence ruined only by soft and heavy breathing. Again, though, he shakes himself awake, like he doesn't want to miss out on any time he could be spending with Peter, despite the fact that they have days of this ahead of them. He's quiet, his voice heavy with sleep, but he's running his mouth without really thinking, just to stay active. ]

I wanna live with you. In your apartment. [ Is that too much to say? Odin certainly seems to think it is, because he tenses under Peter's fingers. ] I mean - I don't want to leave Leo and Lucina in the clocktower. They're both going through so much? Leo especially, but Lucina has so much waiting for her back home, and every second with her is a blessing. Just...

I wish I could be in two places at once. [ Another sleepy pause, followed by Odin speaking through a yawn. ] W-wait, you broke your wrist?

Edited 2018-03-20 10:35 (UTC)

When I was a kid, yeah. It's fine, 'cept it does this sometimes...

[Peter replies, coaxing his fingers through Odin's hair before taking his hand away. He holds it up, rotating his hand in the air until it makes a gentle cracking noise and flexes his fingers before returning them to rest on Odin's neck. Only one hand on the wheel but it's not like it matters, super speedy reflexes and an empty road ahead. He likes being able to hold on to his boyfriend.]

Also you're pretty much my unofficial roommate, I guess it's about time you start dumping some of your shit at my place? You don't have to live there like, full time. But... [you'd be welcome to?] y'know. I got plenty of room.

[ Odin blearily looks up at Peter, even more tired than he thought. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust - how long were they closed for? - but the gentle cracking has him worried. He's no stranger to injuries, certainly not to broken bones, but magic healed scars up so much cleaner than science and time. Peter puts his hand on his neck but Odin takes a hold of it, bringing it close and kissing him lightly on the wrist. There. All better. He lays down again, curling in. ]

I miss my scars. I don't really have as many, after Nohr. [ Anankos changing his appearance the way he did. Fucking gods. Fucking dragons. ] Man - you've never seen me with my natural hair colour? Black as crow, a darkness befitting the once fell swordsman, Owain Dark. [ he yawns again, something about inky depths drawn from the coldest well geting lost in the noise. ] I should dye it at some point... maybe on the trip. Come back home and scare everyone with my cool black hair.

[ he shifts, settling on his back, looking up at Peter. another moment's hesitation. ]

Can I do that? [ he's not talking about his hair. ] Leave some stuff with you? So I could stay there, like - whenever? For however long I want?

[Peter raises his brows but doesn't say too much on the topic of hair dye, thinking he's always liked Odin's hair the way it is - but he's not about to stop him from having a little fun with it if he chooses to. Just another pit stop for them to make somewhere, maybe if they can find a halfway decent motel with a shower?

His hand shifts when Odin turns over, stroking at his cheek before he looks down at his boyfriend in his lap with absolutely no idea where to rest it next. If he puts it on the wheel, he can't really see Odin's face. If he rests it on his face, Odin can't really see him. Neck? He's chewing on this dilemma when he answers.]

Yeah? I can give you a key, if you want. I like it when you're there.

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