[Vincent starts to protest, but he stops before he's gotten more than a word out. He's not always the brightest bulb in the lamp, and emotions make everything inherently more difficult to suss out, but he has just enough awareness to realize that they're batting these nebulous apologies and assurances back and forth without either of them actually feeling more assured. Because they're both missing the point.]
Hang on...
[He runs through everything Irahl has been saying, really thinks about it. And when he thinks he's finally got a better idea of what's actually going on in there, he rolls onto his side to face Irahl properly, propping himself up on his forearm.]
You... Don't gotta feel bad, man. This got weird, yeah, but I'm not upset with you or anything.
[Hearing Vincent move around a little automatically pulls Irahl's attention over, watching the man's poor, busted face for a minute.
He doesn't know what to say, at first. Hearing that Vincent isn't upset--and it at least looking like it's true--somehow doesn't make him feel a whole lot better. It's a relief, of course, but that's apparently not all there is to it. Even if Vincent isn't precisely upset, there are other things he could be, or there could be damage to their relationship that will show up later... even things just being different could be bad... and then there's the internal whiplash he'll be feeling every time he thinks about some of the things that happened...
So, after a minute of thinking, one small part of Vincent's response stands out.]
[And that’s such a straightforward, understandable, clear-cut sentiment compared to their earlier attempts to explain themselves that Vincent nearly looks relieved. He feels the same way, of course, and immediately sympathizes with Irahl, but… He can do something with this.]
I get it. I don’t want that either.
[And they can’t exactly walk this one back. Vincent can’t forget the experience any better than Irahl can. He knows that.]
But we’re in a crazy place where weird shit is bound to happen. You’re still my friend, I ain’t about to let it change that.
[He reaches out to touch the other man’s arm again, to underline his point.]
We can figure things out until it don’t feel weird anymore, alright? I’m on board. You ain’t ruined nothing.
[The vertigo of everything Vincent is saying makes his hungover stomach curl in on itself. Something in his chest still feels like it's caving in, but not in a strangling way this time. Instead, a breath of relief sighs out of him after not realizing he'd been holding onto it.
There's a lot there--so much so that Irahl can feel his brain immediately shut it away somewhere to be looked at later. When it's quiet and calm, and he's trying to rest, that's when it will cycle through his brain again.
For now, all he can do is try for simple acceptance. That's hard enough. It takes him a minute before he manages a small nod.]
[He ends up dropping his arm after a little bit, because it still hurts a lot to keep it upright. Leaning on his other arm is already a challenge.]
Okay.
[And with that seemingly... Settled, he collapses back to where he had been moments before, laying on his back with his legs extended. He presses the palm of his hand (which has several bandages on it) against his forehead. A weak smile on his face. He's still confused and embarrassed, but his heart doesn't feel quite so heavy now.]
Assumin' you wanna talk to me still, an' all that. 'Cause I was pretty sure I'd fucked up bad with this one...
[This both explains his earlier mood, and, you know, gives Irahl a last chance to tell him off for being a fucking weirdo. It's a little hard for him to believe he's still not being blamed for something.]
[The combination of embarrassment and relief is hitting Irahl too, and the combination is nauseating. He's looking forward to hopefully being able to fully calm down again soon, because he has a lot to sleep off.
For now, the deliriousness he's feeling in the wake of all this has him reaching out to rest a hand in the center of Vincent's chest briefly, before he even thinks about it. Very rarely does he ever feel the compulsion to touch another person for any nonviolent reason, but the want to reassure is still pretty strong, so it just kind of happens when finding words turns out to be too hard.
It's only after he takes his hand back that he thinks of something to say.]
[It's good that Vincent is so beat-up, otherwise he would have instinctually thought he was being handed something and tried to grab Irahl's hand. Might have ruined what he belatedly realizes is simply a kind gesture. It's heartwarming.
On the heels of that, the bit about a roommate makes him laugh a little - which, again, kind of rolls into a wheezing cough that he tries to smother as quickly as he can.]
Hey, I'll take it...
[It still doesn't occur to him that, with Irahl's recent past, that roommate was very likely related to his being kidnapped, but maybe it'll hit him later. He makes... A very weak attempt to get up, craning his head and a little bit of his shoulders before giving up and lying back down.]
S'good thing, too. 'Cause I may just live here now.
[Referring to his place here, sideways on the end of the bed, possibly forever.]
[There's a huff under his breath at that comment, because not only is it ridiculous that Vincent is crashed there like that, it's also inconvenient.
Irahl doesn't tell him to leave, though. He carefully leans over to take a long drink of his ice water instead. You know one of those ice cubes ends up in his mouth. It feels great with how busted everything is. And he rearranges a little while it melts, lumping up his pillow behind him so he can carefully drag his legs up onto the bed (wow, one hip sure is sore), and sit back against the wall.
It's still uncomfortable and embarrassing to have Vincent hanging around this close to him, but it should be much, much worse than it is.]
[And he really didn't mean to linger... Irahl seems to be doing better. The guy's even moving to get more comfortable, instead of the awful tension Vincent could practically feel radiating off of him just a few moments before. He can go back to his bunk now. They're both going to be okay.]
Listen, man, I dunno who kicked my ass harder... You or me...
[He makes another attempt to lift himself up, this time rolling onto his side again first. This does better. He's able to sort of lever himself up into a sitting position this time, though it makes his head pound again to do so.]
Though I gotta say... If we ever get space-raiders or whatever comin' in here, they are fucked.
[Each stupid joke puts one more step between them and the mess they're in the process of slowly walking away from. It's a framework that Irahl doesn't have to think very hard to build off of, and that is yet another relief in the wake of everything else. If he can just keep this up, maybe things will go back to normal.
He's able to rest his head back against the wall now and close his eyes. He still has music playing in one ear.]
They better show up soon. We're running out of people to beat up.
[Though he says it with half a grin on his face, so he probably doesn't mean this all that seriously. All things considered, hurting from laughing is a good problem to have. He makes his way back up to his feet, swearing that his sore muscles have only gotten worse since he's stopped having some other problem to distract him.
As he goes back towards his bed, waving vaguely behind himself in Irahl's direction.]
Lemme know if you want anything, aight?
[Just sort of a blanket statement to cover anything from wanting more ice water to wanting him to stay up and talk to for a while. Maybe Irahl won't ask for anything, that's fine too. The offer is made all the same.]
[There's a noncommittal murmur to Vincent's offer--which, the fact that there is any reply at all is a good sign. Those are the kind of comments that Irahl typically feels zero obligation to respond to, so he's at least making the effort to acknowledge Vincent, even if they both know he probably has no intention of actually taking him up on the offer.
Otherwise, he's good to disengage now. He's going to stay propped upright in his bunk-cave for now, as he needs some time to slowly unwind from his upset, but the rattling anxiety has been left behind.
The dust can finally be allowed to settle. And once it does, he'll finally tip over to let his busted body rest, and get some sleep.]
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Hang on...
[He runs through everything Irahl has been saying, really thinks about it. And when he thinks he's finally got a better idea of what's actually going on in there, he rolls onto his side to face Irahl properly, propping himself up on his forearm.]
You... Don't gotta feel bad, man. This got weird, yeah, but I'm not upset with you or anything.
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He doesn't know what to say, at first. Hearing that Vincent isn't upset--and it at least looking like it's true--somehow doesn't make him feel a whole lot better. It's a relief, of course, but that's apparently not all there is to it. Even if Vincent isn't precisely upset, there are other things he could be, or there could be damage to their relationship that will show up later... even things just being different could be bad... and then there's the internal whiplash he'll be feeling every time he thinks about some of the things that happened...
So, after a minute of thinking, one small part of Vincent's response stands out.]
...I didn't want it to get weird.
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I get it. I don’t want that either.
[And they can’t exactly walk this one back. Vincent can’t forget the experience any better than Irahl can. He knows that.]
But we’re in a crazy place where weird shit is bound to happen. You’re still my friend, I ain’t about to let it change that.
[He reaches out to touch the other man’s arm again, to underline his point.]
We can figure things out until it don’t feel weird anymore, alright? I’m on board. You ain’t ruined nothing.
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There's a lot there--so much so that Irahl can feel his brain immediately shut it away somewhere to be looked at later. When it's quiet and calm, and he's trying to rest, that's when it will cycle through his brain again.
For now, all he can do is try for simple acceptance. That's hard enough. It takes him a minute before he manages a small nod.]
Okay.
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Okay.
[And with that seemingly... Settled, he collapses back to where he had been moments before, laying on his back with his legs extended. He presses the palm of his hand (which has several bandages on it) against his forehead. A weak smile on his face. He's still confused and embarrassed, but his heart doesn't feel quite so heavy now.]
Assumin' you wanna talk to me still, an' all that. 'Cause I was pretty sure I'd fucked up bad with this one...
[This both explains his earlier mood, and, you know, gives Irahl a last chance to tell him off for being a fucking weirdo. It's a little hard for him to believe he's still not being blamed for something.]
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For now, the deliriousness he's feeling in the wake of all this has him reaching out to rest a hand in the center of Vincent's chest briefly, before he even thinks about it. Very rarely does he ever feel the compulsion to touch another person for any nonviolent reason, but the want to reassure is still pretty strong, so it just kind of happens when finding words turns out to be too hard.
It's only after he takes his hand back that he thinks of something to say.]
Still better than my last roommate.
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On the heels of that, the bit about a roommate makes him laugh a little - which, again, kind of rolls into a wheezing cough that he tries to smother as quickly as he can.]
Hey, I'll take it...
[It still doesn't occur to him that, with Irahl's recent past, that roommate was very likely related to his being kidnapped, but maybe it'll hit him later. He makes... A very weak attempt to get up, craning his head and a little bit of his shoulders before giving up and lying back down.]
S'good thing, too. 'Cause I may just live here now.
[Referring to his place here, sideways on the end of the bed, possibly forever.]
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Irahl doesn't tell him to leave, though. He carefully leans over to take a long drink of his ice water instead. You know one of those ice cubes ends up in his mouth. It feels great with how busted everything is. And he rearranges a little while it melts, lumping up his pillow behind him so he can carefully drag his legs up onto the bed (wow, one hip sure is sore), and sit back against the wall.
It's still uncomfortable and embarrassing to have Vincent hanging around this close to him, but it should be much, much worse than it is.]
Don't tell me I hit you that hard.
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Listen, man, I dunno who kicked my ass harder... You or me...
[He makes another attempt to lift himself up, this time rolling onto his side again first. This does better. He's able to sort of lever himself up into a sitting position this time, though it makes his head pound again to do so.]
Though I gotta say... If we ever get space-raiders or whatever comin' in here, they are fucked.
[He'll... He'll stand up in a minute. Really.]
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He's able to rest his head back against the wall now and close his eyes. He still has music playing in one ear.]
They better show up soon. We're running out of people to beat up.
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Fuck... Stop making me laugh...
[Though he says it with half a grin on his face, so he probably doesn't mean this all that seriously. All things considered, hurting from laughing is a good problem to have. He makes his way back up to his feet, swearing that his sore muscles have only gotten worse since he's stopped having some other problem to distract him.
As he goes back towards his bed, waving vaguely behind himself in Irahl's direction.]
Lemme know if you want anything, aight?
[Just sort of a blanket statement to cover anything from wanting more ice water to wanting him to stay up and talk to for a while. Maybe Irahl won't ask for anything, that's fine too. The offer is made all the same.]
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Otherwise, he's good to disengage now. He's going to stay propped upright in his bunk-cave for now, as he needs some time to slowly unwind from his upset, but the rattling anxiety has been left behind.
The dust can finally be allowed to settle. And once it does, he'll finally tip over to let his busted body rest, and get some sleep.]