[It's been a bit of a long day, but... a productive one, Dante thinks. Thanks to that Wriothesley guy, they've got plenty of contacts from the job fair to go over, and notes to make on what they remember about each one of them.
They (literally) step through the door to their apartment, umbrella tucked under one arm, as they tick to the beat of a song they once heard--
--only to come to a sudden stop with surprised chime as they catch sight of someone taking up a good portion of their living room.]
[Lyle startles. He doesn't have much in the way of personal effects, thus having nothing more than his actual body to occupy space... but that in itself is robust, enough to turn that living room into something far smaller. That startle... isn't what he'd wanted to greet Dante with. Not in the slightest.
But what was he supposed to do if Dante literally walked through the door?? It hadn't even opened! Lyle is SURE of this, but he doubts his own perception, round, glassy eyes flicking between them and the closed, locked door.]
H... H-Hello! Hi! I-I'm Lyle! [Lyle's many, many feet pitter-patter nervously against the floor, and he grips his drapes tight in front of his body as he stares at Dante. (Wow... He wasn't sure what to imagine of Dante's appearance, but this was quite strange indeed.)] You must be, um... the manager?
[Shoot. Did he ever catch Dante's name? Manager is all Lyle remembers... as he attempts to continue explaining anything.] I'm- I'm living with you! Um, with permission, of course? If y-you're okay with it? Ahh...
[He is really messing this up. He's supposed to say something better than this, like Gregor invited me to move in, or I'm not just breaking into some stranger's house or anything right now, I'd never do something like that-- Lyle's body clicks and revs, the sounds of sprockets reeling in his body to indicate his nervousness.]
[That sound... does he have a prosthetic body under there or something? They think they see something catch the light within all that darkness, but they can't be sure. It's not unsettling or anything--not when so many Augmented have changed as much as they have, and especially when accounting for Shifts--but it does leave them wondering just what his extra soul might be.
Though mostly they're stuck on the stutter. This guy might even have Sinclair beat.
Dante holds up a hand, hoping it'll make them look a little less threatening so their new guest will calm down. (Do they look threatening?)]
< Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Just a little surprised myself is all. Gregor invited you over, right? >
[There's no one else around here who would call them Manager that they know of. They hook their umbrella on the arm of a chair near the door.
Well... they trust Gregor's judgment, so--]
< I'm fine with it. Might have to move things around a little to make you comfortable, though. >
Yes! Gregor did! He f-found me when I was trying to figure out my room, which, um... it w-won't work for me too well.
[... Lyle leaves it at that, shrinking into himself. It does very little to reduce the impression of him being quite sizeable; the rooms at the Valentia just wouldn't accommodate him, and Gregor took pity on that.
Dante doesn't seem upset with him. If Lyle felt threatened before, their calm response manages to help soothe his nerves, and he sighs.]
Oh... Whoa. Just like that?! [Lyle is beside himself. The look he gives Dante is surprise, and he rears up slightly. Under his breath:] Such a smooth operator...!
[Anyway:] I can't thank you enough. It's p-pretty cold outside. [deadass had been planning to sleep outside... no wonder he's so pitiable. Lyle manages a nervous smile.] D-Don't feel like you have to do anything at all for me. Really! I'll t-try to keep to a corner the best I can. If anything, there's got to be something I c-can give in return as thanks...?
[Smooth? Them? It was so quiet they must have misheard. But maybe if they keep going the way they are, it could be true.]
< It is starting to get pretty chilly out there, isn't it? Can't say I blame you for wanting to stay somewhere warmer. >
[This place is in rough enough shape to get a bit drafty in this weather, but at least it's out of the worst of it. Nothing like a wall between you and the wind.]
< As for something in return... Split the rent once you get a job, maybe? That's pretty standard. If you need a nudge in the right direction, the Velvet Claw usually has a few jobs up for people to take on. Other than that... >
[Hm...]
< Can you cook? >
[Because they don't eat food and Gregor needs something better than his own cooking.]
[Lyle is easily impressed by kindness, by calmness. And those are two things that Dante's exuding, rolling with the punches while also letting him stay with them.
'Get a job.' Lyle seems to deflate slightly; his camera-like eyes flick to the ground. Yeah... it figures that he'd need to get employment, but he notion seems to make him antsy again while he shifts upon metal legs that click, click against the floor. But that final request... Something in him revs, surprise writ on his features again like he's taken aback.]
Oh. Cooking? Y-Yeah, really basic things. It's um... it's been a while. [He sucks in air through his prominent teeth.] B-Back home, I haven't had a fridge for some time. It broke a while ago, and I haven't gotten it replaced. Kinda hard to do much cooking without the ingredients. B-But I'm sure I could m-manage something! What do you... like?
[Lyle peers at Dante some more. They don't seem to have an orifice for eating from... but you can't judge a book by its cover, or a clock by their face! He readily assumes maybe they want him to cook something for them, rather than this being for Gregor's sake.]
[More mechanical noises... Maybe it's not due to any changes with his Natural Soul after all? He mentioned a "room" after all, which was probably the Valentia, and last time they checked the stays there were temporary enough that the changes probably wouldn't be that much of a problem (they've yet to learn that the Valentia's become more lenient in that regard as of late).
Maybe prosthetics are more common where he's from too. Or something went wrong? It seems like it'd be rude to bring it up, especially since he hasn't said anything about their head.]
< I'm... not sure what he likes, actually. We usually had to deal with rations back home unless we were being treated... Unless you were talking about me? >
[They hold up a hand again, somehow managing to look a little sheepish, even without a proper face or expression.]
< You don't need to worry about me. My tastes are a little, uh... different... these days. >
Oh, thank you. [Helpful to know about Gregor, but... Lyle apprehensively wavers, uncertain.] Yeah, I was hoping t-to learn about what you wanted. So this is for Gregor...
[That's actually... really sweet? Lyle is getting the bigger picture. Dante's tastes are different, and thus, the diets between the two differ. Lyle smiles.]
I can t-try! Maybe he'll even find something he likes, heh. ... Ummmm.
[The elephant in the room. Lyle squints slightly at Dante; his jaw goes slack, and his aperture shrinks, clearly honing in on Dante's face.]
What... are your t-tastes? [do they have tastes how do they taste]
[A bit blunt. More than a bit blunt. But it's best to rip the bandaid off now, right? He's gonna learn eventually.
But they continue on before the word can hang in the air on its own for too long.]
< As in actual lifeforce, or something close to it. It's, uh, a new thing--a Spectral thing. To be honest, I'm not used to eating or feeling hungry or thirsty at all. >
[They sigh and shrug helplessly.]
< It could be worse, though? I've heard it doesn't hurt. >
[And Lyle remains quiet for those seconds, jaw slack. Life... How foreboding. But it might have been scarier to him before he was changed by the Visitor. He's gained a lot of perspective in short time.]
If it doesn't hurt... That c-cant be so bad. So I bet you have to like, siphon it up m-magically or, or something?
[That's kind of cool. It reminds him of some of the elements built into his Mazes & Wizards campaign, and here he is, talking to someone in real life who steals life energy...!
He tries not to relate to it too hard, and tempers his fascination. Lyle's body clicks while he moves slightly, increasingly relaxed in Dante's presence.]
If you n-need anything like that, I can probably give you some of mine? It's the least I c-can do. You didn't ask to be turned into a Spectral-type.
< Sort of, yeah. There's fire involved, but not the kind that burns. >
[They're about to explain further, just in case he starts worrying about the apartment going up in flames, when he offers up his own, and they can't help the surprised-yet-delighted chime that ends up slipping out of them.]
< Really? Wow, that'd be a big help. I'm usually pretty good about not taking too much, but you might be a little dizzy and tired afterward when I do. >
[The Spectral part of them might prefer the "hunt," but even it has to agree that it's so much easier when this is how it goes, right?]
[If Lyle could still pale, he would. The very moment Dante mentions fire... Ahh, he should have known. The flames... Still, they say it's not the kind that burns.
Lyle still titters and creaks nervously.]
D-D-Dizzy and tired, I c-can do. But, um. [He hisses a little bit, attempting to wrap his mind around non-burning fire.] I'm... I'm really, extremely flammable. Y-You don't think that'll... c-cause any problems?
[He had chemicals that could ignite. Photo paper everywhere on his person. ...Lots of fabric. Lyle himself would be okay, probably; it was his stash of photos he kept...]
< That's right. The clock's a prosthesis--they're pretty common where I come from, even if this particular shape isn't. Not sure how I got it, but I don't remember anything from before I got it either. I've had it for about... A little over a year and a half now? Wow. >
[They didn't realize they'd been here that long. Almost as long as they've existed...
They shake their head before they can get too lost in their thoughts.]
< Uh, anyways, I had a whole year to get used to not feeling hunger or thirst or sleeping in the same way others seem to. >
[That's some fantastical stuff right there. Lyle's meeting a lot of people who seem quite fantastical. He wonders if the prosthetic's the reason Dante can't remember much from before, that maybe memories from pre-prosthetic were lost when they... presumably lost their head?
Lyle decides not to ask after this absurd line of questioning. His face screws up a little bit as he glances towards the ground, trying to make sense of it all. Dante said it all so casually that he feels extra strange for needing to catch up...]
Guess now you have to get used to a whole d-different sort of not-feeling-hunger. Except now you do, and you have to suck the life force from your foes...! ... N-Not foes. P-Pretend I d-didn't say that. [He looks extremely embarrassed. Why did he say that. Lyle shakes his head.] Just p-p-people. Yeah. Ha ha.
[If it turns out they can't go back to how they used to be, that's probably how they're going to feed in the future. Maybe, they think with some amusement, they'll end up having to share their meals with the bus.]
< Though you've offered, so maybe "people" is what I should go with after all. You've been fine so far, so I really don't wanna think of you as a foe. >
[A foe as a roommate just sounds like an awkward situation ready to happen.]
[They reply in a cheerful tick, then walk over and hold their hand out for Lyle to shake.]
< Happy to have you aboard. As a, uh, roommate I mean. Sorry, been at the job fair all day so I'm still a bit stuck in "manager" mode right now. > [They don't mention they get stuck in that even without the job fairs] < If a handshake's too formal we, could... Um. >
[Lyle just lets Dante's introduction unspool before him, registering some traits about Dante. But what stands out to him, not only just about Dante but about those who he's met... They're well-intentioned. Kind. Lyle isn't accustomed to being treated to such kindness so often...
He's staggered, a bit. He looks slack-jawed about the suggestion to high-five, but in reality it's about the ease they've received him with. When he startles back to life, he offers a hand, rigidly.]
Y-Yes! High... five?
[That's fine by him. Less formal than a handshake. Feels team-building, like he's...]
Happy to b-be aboard! Heheh. [He manages a grin, though it's through his usual nerves.]
Maybe, Lyle believed this was all an elaborate prank, or hallucination, or... something. He's feeling a bit woozy. But he is simultaneously... hungry. Starved for contact and attention, having avoided people as much as possible. He trembles as he types.]
cassius? what brought this on? i'm not opposed, or anything, just wondering...
[Kissable.......... Lyle is slack-jawed. Both mouths are. He's just staring at this message.]
you really want to? wow. if you want that too, i'm all in! i mean, not minding and whatnot. yes!
[He keeps wanting to ask innocently if Cassius is taken, or if his partner (Eli) is okay with it... but it would shatter the fantasy of having something he fears he never could. So he says... nothing.]
[RIGHT NOW??? There is so little chance to respond...! The apartment isn't terribly spacious, but Lyle can't think of anywhere else to go... The living room is where he currently is, anyway. It's... basically his room. He just hopes Gregor and Dante aren't quietly here...]
i'm living in east sophia. there's an apartment building back away from the main road... [And he provides an address! It is indeed: an apartment. Small. Crappy.]
[And he does. Makes a straight beeline for it, even, because what kind of friend would he be to keep Lyle waiting?? Takes him a little bit to get there, sure. Legs aren't the fastest mode of transportation, and after his experience with Eli on the tram... yeah. He's fine walking.
He has a little trouble finding the address, and maybe he even asks for directions along the way, but!! He finds it, and that's all that matters.
If there's a doorbell, he'll ring it, otherwise there's a polite knock at the door. (Is that the jaws theme in the background? Surely not.) Either way -
[Lyle has enough imagination to envision the jaws theme... In fact, he sort of huddles in his corner. Sets his device down. Twiddles his thumbs. Draws his curtains around him even tighter (and wonders if he'll have Cassius beneath them again?).
He isn't sure whether to feel excited or chilled. And if they kiss... would Lyle try to take a picture of him instead? Lyle touches his face, worries at his mouth. It doesn't feel right, and he doubts the whole thing...
As he hears Cassius rapping at the door. Lyle jumps, clamping down on his budding claws to bite at them. His too-many legs become unmanageable; he scuttles in place uselessly, bumping into a side table, which he reaches to stabilize with haste.]
C-Coming!!
[don't knock over furniture, dante and gregor have been so gracious to let him stay here at all and he's STILL not paying his share of rent...! (Would he ever? A worry for... tomorrow, perhaps. Always tomorrow.) He can't afford to break stuff! Carefully he navigates to the door; the furniture's been arranged so that Lyle doesn't struggle to navigate, but he still feels compelled to be careful.
When he opens the door, it's just a crack. But he pushes it slightly more, gripping onto his cloak tightly. ...He's already flushed and disheveled.]
H-Hi, C-Cassius! C-Come in, if, if you want? Unless you don't w-want to ... um, the invitation's there...
[Maybe he misunderstood everything, or maybe Cassius just wants to kiss and run, or... Lyle laughs breathlessly, glancing away.]
Hello, friend Lyle. [Cas looks up at him from under petaled bangs, all contented squirm and small smiles. Where Lyle is flustered nerves and stammers, Cas... is just happy to be here. Heat wafts through the partially opened door and seeps into the plaid wool coat he's replaced his sweaters with. He takes a baby step forward without thinking, perking at the invite.
Undeterred by Lyle's nerves, he eases the door open enough to slip through.] I would not mind coming in, no. Thank you for the invitation.
[Once in, Cas takes in the apartment with a curious look, letting the chill of the cold bleed away. The warmth has him wondering if Lyle's roommates would be mad if Cassius just… spirited Lyle and his heat away to his and Eli's home beyond the barrier. He is sure Eli wouldn't mind - he is fond of his monsters, and Cas would vouch for him - but... no, no. Lyle is probably better off in the safety of the barrier.
Even if the apartment was clearly not made for his size.
…hm. He'll put a pin in it for later. For now, Cassius turns. Tilts his head up to look up at Lyle.]
Have you been well, friend Lyle?
[Cas at least has enough sense not to ask about kisses right away. Soon, though. S o o n.]
[Lyle hasn't a clue what to expect. Would Cas be as blunt about the procurement of Kiss as he was in making a beeline for the apartment? He breaks out into a sweat. (The fact that he can still sweat is irritating, but not something his new anatomy had the consideration to rid him of, despite his very arthropod-inspired anatomy. Stupid Visitor.) Cas dips past him and Lyle almost greedily shuts the door behind him, as though famished for the presence of someone in his... den. ???
(This, he thinks, must be something fueled by being a... Carnivora-type. What can he do?)
Lyle squeaks at the prompting.] Yes! Doing fine! [He didn't really think the question through, but he's accustomed to responding with positive minimals.] Just fine.
H-How about you, Cassius? Doing... good?
[Hard to forget he's here for kisses. Lyle's cheeks remain warm as he takes a few steps forward (so bold!), an indication that this living room is kinda Lyle's space to hang about in.]
[Lyle steps forward into his space, and Cassius welcomes it, squirm slowing into a happy, rosy churn. Were he anyone else, he might have been a little intimidated about how Lyle towers over him at least a good three and a halfish feet, but… all Cassius is really concerned with is which mouth Lyle would wish him to kiss first and the best way to reach it.
Standing on the furniture would be rude, Cas knows, but he doesn't want Lyle to bend at awkward angles, either. Even as greedy as he is for Lyle-on-Cassius contact, Lyle's comfort comes first.
(...if he'd known this was how he would be spending his day, he would have made his shell taller.)
He holds a hand out to Lyle, petals shifting with his thoughts. He offers up a small smile.] How would you like to go about this, friend Lyle?
[His small hand is extended towards Lyle. It's so sweet a gesture that it contrasts revoltingly with Lyle's own squirming insides, the way his stomach flip-flops and his palms sweat. He wants to hold his hand, Cassius is offering it, but he needs to keep his composure and not be so animal about this.
Terra-types, he thinks, are quite beautiful. But Cassius would make for any good soul type. Lyle sighs, staring at his features, tracing over the petals, the tinge to his skin, the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips...
... while that question hangs in the air... ...]
Eep-! Sorry, sorry! [Lyle's legs buckle and skitter. For a moment he even covers his eyes, but in doing so, many more peek through the opening of his cloak. Failure. It's useless to try, so Lyle drops his hands, wringing them in front of his body.] I w-wasn't thinking, what did... How d-do we go about... ??
[How do we go about this. Lyle realizes... Cassius is bold. His face flushes deeper, hotter. (It was easier to have Sam kiss him; desperation won over, he made Sam kiss his camera lens, he took a photo to last longer.....)
Lyle's breath hitches.]
R-Right. Right! That.Kissing. [A long breath spools from his mouth.] I-If you, um... could close your eyes?
[... He didn't have anything to hide from Cassius, though. Except for all of himself; again, his heart skips a beat at the thought of actually kissing Cassius. At least if his eyes were closed, he couldn't judge him... Despite his height, Lyle's hunching, his hand-wringing- there isn't anything about him that is imposing save for his mass.]
You are fine, friend Lyle. Please do not worry. [And honestly, he doesn't even know what Lyle's apologizing for; all that fidgeting and staring and stumbling has been filed away into a neat little folder called non-suspicious, normal behavior.
In fact, his thoughts are already moving along, latching onto what Lyle says next.
Which. Hm. Cassius… has not kissed a lot of people. Only the one, in fact, though he's seen it done countless times in the world beyond the television, and in the world around him. But even then, he has never understood why the humans prefer to close their eyes; Cassius would much rather keep them open. How can anyone expect him to close his eyes, when the way his Eli's freckles curve, the way his brows furrow in clear enjoyment is right there?
So it's with a flicker of disappointment that he takes in Lyle's request. It's pushed down immediately, sure, because that is what Cas does, but it doesn't stop the small change in his worms’ squirm. Doesn't stop Cas from wanting to know what Lyle looks like when smooching.
That's okay, though. Cassius is patient and persistent.]
If that is what you would like, friend Lyle.
[And then his eyes slide shut, head tipping back just a little bit more. Expectant, maybe. Certainly no pressure here at all.]
[Does he detect Cassius's disappointment? Yes. Lyle has a radar for things like it, judgement or disdain. But even deeper runs the desire to be the observer, to wish not to be seen or known when he indulged.
To remain the voyeur; to watch Cassius, but not allow for it to go both ways.
Lyle laces his fingers together in front of him while the mechanical clicking and tapping fills the room, as Lyle draws closer on many tapping feet. His thumb traces around the edge of the prominent bellows on his chest; he swallows, his lower tongue running over his large lower lip damply. He's hesitant; his body pulses, the throb of his heart unnervingly thick.]
Okay... Yes, j-just like that. That's p... perfect.
[A creepy thing to say? Maybe. But the nerves he feels are shot, and he's suddenly compelled to have Cassius... kiss his camera lens instead. Lyle believes it: he would be an unpleasant kiss, for reasons beyond being made up of rubbery skin and prominent teeth. He'd be clumsy; he's never known how to kiss, hasn't dared even mime the motions... He would ruin it by involving his body.
And Lyle feels his hunger for Cassius growing. Each time he interacts with him he remains so kind and patient... He radiates a calm he can't place, a sweetness rare. Lyle could only hope to observe. (That Cassius wanted to kiss him- he still struggles to comprehend it, like it was his own wish fulfillment that is making this happen.) As he draws closer, the fabric of his chest parts. Lyle lines up... the large lens of his major camera with Cassius's face.]
Okay... r-ready!
[... If Cassius doesn't bother to look, Lyle is... Well, kissing Lyle will be a very smooth, flat, glassy experience. Boiling hot and unyielding, a slight curvature to the surface... He's having him kiss a whole damn camera lens. Never a normal choice, but it's a Lyle choice.]
[It isn’t in Cassius' nature to betray Lyle's trust. He is a good worm boy, and he'd agreed to closing his eyes for Lyle's comfort; opening them at this point would make him a bad friend.
A benefit for Lyle right now to be sure, as is the fact that… well. Cassius’ shell doesn't have nerves like a human does. There's something there, something given to him by his Terra soul that makes it twinge in hurt whenever he deigns to pick at his petaled layers, but textures, things aside from heat? Those are still a pipe dream.
So when that lens presses up against his mouth, Cas doesn't think much of the shape. There are many souls and many monsters, so maybe Lyle's mouth is just firmer than it looks. Truly, the only thought he has is that it's warm. Hot, even, like a summer's day, his shell acting as a barrier to protect his worms from the worst of it.
It's nice. Very nice, but…
Unfortunately for Lyle, Cassius - he isn't a Sam agreeing to a kiss in exchange for a photographer’s help. Cassius wants to kiss him, and it's made very clear by the way his nose smooshes a little into the lens, the way his hand drifts up to caress. He expects cheek, or the edge of Lyle's larger mouth, or… anything else than what he actually gets: the numerous ups and downs in the shape of a… corner. Something that, Cas knows, isn't mouth related at all.
Where is his mouth? Where is Lyle's face? Where are the kisses he was promised??
Now there's slight disappointment and a good amount of confusion. Cas hasn't opened his eyes yet, but his hand goes higher, feeling.]
[Whirrrr... Sprockets grind and his body creaks, but Lyle doesn't snap a photo. He watches. He feels. He sees Cassius kiss him in an unnaturally high definition, the only way he's ever executed any such kiss...
The particular way Cassius kisses him—even Lyle can tell that it's with the anticipation for... more. It isn't with the tentative hesitation Sam treated him with, not with a scrunched brow or any reluctance. Cassius kissed him and meant it. Lyle bites his lower lip, and nearly yelps when he feels Cassius probe at the edge of his lens.
(That he can feel it... Well, it's all become a part of him now. It's not particularly sensitive, but he feels his fingers dance from edge to edge, feeling along the corner. He isn't sure what Cassius is trying to feel. His warmth, maybe?)
Lyle scuttles back a step, detaching the kiss before Cassius's wandering hands can reach any higher. He exhales a shuddering breath, and...
Strange. There's some kind of connection, some tether invisible having come from this round of contact—and with it, the acute sense that Cas is left wanting. Lyle's stomach flips; butterflies, confusion of his own, uncertainty, yearning.
The drapes are drawn again, tight over his camera.]
Okay! Y-You can look now. Heh...
[What did you think? he nearly asks, and he isn't sure why. He searches Cassius's face, aware that Cassius... wanted something that he didn't get. Indeed, Sam had been given something first; there was nothing but a slight relief to have properly sealed the exchange of goods/services. He swallows, shyly averting his gaze.
He may be looking down, but one of the eyes at his neck is fixed on Cassius. His many legs click and tap as he attempts to condense himself in this small room to appear smaller, as he finally says,] Umm, sorry. Sorry! I'm n-not very... very kissable. I know.
[But oh, he wanted in spite of it. Beneath his cloak he traces the lower edge of his protruding lens, reminiscing over the pliancy of Cassius's lips, his skin...]
[Cassius doesn't expect Lyle to pull back as suddenly as he does; he nearly tips forward at the loss, stumbling forward a step to steady himself. His fingers blindly curl around open air, dropping to press against that familiar feeling stirring in his chest. Cas, greedy little thing he is, lets it wash over him and click into place like a Lyle-shaped puzzle piece.
It's… nice. Warm. Keeps his squirm the same despite how it wants to twist into something aggravated.
At Lyle's go ahead, Cas opens his eyes to find him once more hidden tightly behind his sheet. If Cassius was capable of sighing out his nose, he'd do so, but alas, that requires lungs and he is worms. Instead, he peers up at Lyle, and when it becomes obvious that Lyle won't return his gaze, he locks his eyes to the eye that will.
I'm not very kissable, I know - ]
I would not know. [A pointed tilt of his head.] You have not kissed me, friend Lyle.
[And he wants to, is the thing. It would have been different if Cassius had felt… unwillingness from Lyle's side. Aversion. But he hasn't, doesn't, and the knowledge their new connection provides has him closing the distance Lyle had made, crowding and determined.
Wh-what? What do you mean? Y-you definitely kissed me, Cassius.
[A very sheepish, unconvincing smile spreads across Lyle's face into something much more like a simper. There's... something fiery he can feel- a strange thing, given that Lyle scarcely knew what it was like to get particularly mad or assertive. He just isn't like that, too cowardly and too spineless.
It felt strange and new... belonging outside of his body. Lyle swallows dryly.
Well, technically, Cassius kissed Lyle. But Lyle reads it: Cassius is right. Lyle didn't kiss him back. His face remains hot and his palms are sweaty beneath the drapes he keeps over himself, and Cassius's bold approach has Lyle shrinking some more. It'd be comical to an outside viewer, this smaller, petal-soft man encroaching upon Lyle's hulking form.
Lyle averts his gaze again and stammers, a slight whine accompanying the crunching of gears and sprockets. His legs splay some more, his fluster causing some of them to lift and stick out at strange angles.]
I-I, uhh... You're right. I didn't kiss you, but that was me. S-Sorry. I...
[He got to see Cassius kiss him, from an angle that was rather unorthodox for a person. Somehow, Lyle enjoyed that, even if it left him wanting more... But how? Downcast, he tries to sink into himself some more, to no avail. He twiddles his thumbs, failing to meet Cassius's eyes.]
I d-d-don't know. I don't know why! Maybe I p-panicked? I just... I'm sorry.
[Cassius stares up at Lyle through his fumbling, until he finally admits that, no, he did not kiss him. In that small stretch of time, Cas takes note of how Lyle still avoids his eyes, how he tries to fold in on himself like he's some large, scuttling turtle.]
Please do not apologize, friend Lyle. I just wish to understand.
[Lyle's feelings, his reasons, his wants. They're a mystery to him, especially what little he gets from their new bond.
It's… not often that Cassius is nervous. Really, the only time he's ever been so is when he's had to confess to things people have always been cagey about in the past. Being worms, eating people. It helps him to recognize that feeling that's slowly burrowing through him like roots, one he knows shouldn't be his; he has no reason to be nervous.
But Lyle - he clearly seems to think he does. Seems to find something about Cassius intimidating, despite all of his attempts to appear otherwise. The realization… doesn't feel nice. Maybe even hurts.
Lyle twiddles his thumbs, offers up a reason that only seems to reinforce that feeling. It has Cas pushing further into his bubble without concern for Lyle's sharp edges; he is, after all, used to his caring coming with costs.]
Was it I that made you panic, friend Lyle? [Asked to the largest eye, any eye, that will look at him. If none of them will, he'll look up at Lyle’s more human face again, his own clearly wanting answers.
And despite knowing that there's something across their connection that suggests otherwise: ] Do you not want to kiss me after all?
[With immediate denial, Lyle waves his hands in front of him. The upper shutters of his eye lower, slanted in worry, as he balls fabric in his fists. (Despite everything, Lyle's hands are remarkably human, made of flesh and bone. Claws, thick and black and curved, irritate his fingertips with their recent eruption... but it's a beastly trait aginst human fingers.) One of his eyes can only blink, Lyle struggling to control all of them at once... so it maintains eye contact with Cassius, even while Lyle bites his lower lip in apprehension.
Did Cassius make him panic? Not him, specifically... Did he not want to kiss Cassius? Absolutely not true! But his own want...
Lyle balls his fingers together some more, worrying at knobby knuckles. Blunt, rounded teeth worry at his lip some more... but it's tension and greed that encourage Lyle to slip into a Partial Shift, more of his Carnivora traits prematurely showing. His teeth hone sharper, fur growth on the backs of his hands a stark black, coarse and thick... but those changes are all that can be observed beyond his cloak as Lyle continues to restrain himself, dizzying himself with reasons he could begin to verbalize.
He hisses through his teeth, a sharp inhale. Pained, he keeps his vision downcast.]
Argh, I m-messed it all up. C-Cassius...
[His clawed hands grope towards the sides of his head, lifting slightly (and purely on accident) some of his curtains, spreading the fabric to expose some of his lower mouth, teeth flashing—but pulled into a frown. He clutches the sides of his head, pulls fabric to slightly cover his eyes.
(Ineffective: eyes all over his torso blink like stars at Cassius; a massive, dark lens, rectangular and—deep, deep in that black, a constricting pupil-like aperture... They watch Cassius, even while Lyle's distress inspires him to cover his eyes, to peek past the many others that exist...)
He thinks on his own behavior, even past the noise of his anxiety. Lyle took this chance to kiss Cassius so greedily that the notion that Cassius Wanted This isn't something he can readily convince himself. But when he looks at Lyle this way, betrayed and hurt, it was because... this is someone who wanted to kiss him.
Not someone who was allowing Lyle to have. To take, as part of an exchange. Cassius... came here, only in response to the offer to kiss.
Lyle feels guilt sink his heart. His fingertips probe down from the top of his head to press against his cheeks. That massive camera lens stares at Cassius in front of Lyle's chest, shamelessly focusing and unfocusing to study every detail of Cassius's features.]
[Shoot. Not even this is adequate. Lyle's stomach churns with guilt; framing it as feeling inadequate, or that Cassius was doing this for Lyle, doesn't entirely capture the source of his worries. It was more insidious. That given any inch, he'd scrape and take what he could; that even if Cassius didn't want to kiss him, he could still have at least this.
It's not a simple thing to distill into a short explanation! So Lyle winces instead; he leans for Cassius. He's a fusion of pained remorse and unchecked want.]
[There's something about seeing Lyle so… torn up about this to the point of shifting that aches. Cassius doesn't worry at his fingers like Lyle does, but his petals do give an agitated rustle, more of that rosy scent wafting into the air, trying to soothe.]
You did not mess anything up, friend Lyle. Please do not worry. I would kiss you, yes. It is what I am here for.
[And … Cassius doesn't really understand how Lyle could have thought otherwise. He's not one to beat around the bush for these sorts of things, and he'd thought he'd made his intentions clear from the moment he'd messaged Lyle his question. But… it wouldn't be the first time he was misinterpreted. Even his Eli had found fault in the way he'd strung his words at points, too caught in his own head to see the meaning laid bare.
Perhaps Lyle is like that, too. Too twisted up by those heavy, suffocating feelings that seem to curl at Cassius' own insides.]
You have been kind, and you are warm, and we are friends. [Said simple and honest, just like all those small bodies filling his shell. Where Lyle's words have to claw out of him, Cas’ come easy with his candidness.] I enjoy your company. Why would I not wish to kiss you?
[His attention is drawn lower, to his reflection in the smooth surface of Lyle's lens. What Lyle had him kiss, he's sure; it matches up with the shape his fingers had followed, anyway.
I didn't kiss you, but that was me.
Without thinking Cassius' hand comes up, fingers moving to trace the frame of it proper. It's warm, just like the rest of Lyle. Despite it not being what Cas had wanted, it had been nice to kiss.
His gaze drifts up.]
I did not lie when I said I believed you were very kissable, friend Lyle. Would you allow me to prove it?
[Lyle whines, still scraping his claws down the sides of his sheet. ...Cas smells pleasant, floral and sweet. It nearly lulls Lyle for a moment, enough to calm him.
Just in time for Cassius to caress the largest lens on his front. He watches him do it, doesn't interfere... He falls silent for a moment, watching Cassius willingly encroach on him without threat and without chagrin. The scent of roses engulfs him, mixes with the stuffy sweetness of developer.
Abruptly, Lyle gives another problem. His voice is quiet.]
I've never... kissed before. N-Never kissed anyone else, I mean.
[His heart stutters, pulse quick. White stripes paint Lyle's features, running along his cheeks and down the center of his forehead like a badger's markings. Once more, the closer Cassius got, the more guilt eats at his edges. He still feels he's about to take, a thief bartering an unassuming man for a stolen kiss.
He can't stop thinking that way. It's why he glances to the ground again, the focus of his many apertures whirring in the dark of the living room.]
So... Heh. It'll need to be proved, is what I'm saying. Since... h-how would I know?
[Can't say he's very kissable if he's never kissed anybody back! Though he tries for a weak grin, his lower mouth refuses to budge from its taut frown, each of his eyes drawn in worry.]
[Lyle seems to calm some, and with it, Cassius’ squirm slows, the rustling of his petals fading into white noise. His lips press together as he listens to Lyle speak, and - he understands. Maybe not entirely because his origins differ so much from Lyle's, but…
He can understand being in unknown territory. Being unsure if he's enough.]
…my Eli is the only one I have ever kissed. [He keeps eye contact for a moment longer, before he drops it to the lens, looking to the reflection that stares back at him. His fingers still, thoughts drifting through memories of high, dark ceilings and bodies tangled comfortably amongst the worms. Fonder times. Simpler ones.] Before I was brought here, I had only known my Hunter and my Gardener, both who show their affection in different ways. I had seen kisses done on the tiny screens by the tiny people, had seen them stolen under the late light of the moon, but it was not for me, I had thought. It was for the humans. People.
[His squirm hiccups, his gaze lifting like it takes some effort to pull himself away from the memories. His hand pulls away from the lens as he steps around it, nudges closer to Lyle's larger mouth, undaunted.] Even now, I am still learning. Still clumsy when it comes to human affections.
[His head tilts, taking in the frown and the worry and the weight both bring. His fingers are feather-light as they slide into place along the corner of Lyle's mouth. His thumb runs small lines along the lower lip.]
You will be clumsy, too, but I do not mind. [A small smile.] There is enjoyment in learning, I think.
[A pang of hurt spears through him at the mention of my Eli. Right... Lyle reminds himself once more of the unnattainable. That was okay! He was used to seeing the world in terms of things he can't have- as he flexes his fingers in the grip of his curtains. Being unattainable is why he tried to get a kiss from Cassius against his lens, where he could see it and record it to memory...
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tunes back in, trying to forget about Eli for the moment.
... There's a lot about Cassius he has to learn. Aside from his kindness and the fact that he is a singular entity of worms, he knew little of his background- but this is something for Lyle to marvel over. Kisses on screens, stolen beneath the moonlight? And none for Cassius; he knew only what it was like to kiss Eli.
Cas reaches to... the larger of Lyle's mouths. Drifting along the lip of his taut frown. Cassius draws so close; Lyle could disappear him in an instant. Somehow, this fact unsettles Lyle, an intrusive thought that he wonders he might someday succumb to if faced with too much sweetness and regard.
He didn't deserve any of it. But Cassius offers to teach him... despite still learning himself. Even if Lyle tries to close the shutters of his eyes, the rest of his body is devastatingly drawn to keep watching; at least one eye is on Cassius at all times, watching him trace along his lip, close to his body, all the way to the corner of it.
Lyle did not feel particularly human, then. Between them, Cassius felt more like one. He lets go of the edges of his cloak, letting them hang; his too-long arms almost reach for Cassius, but they grope uselessly in the air around him instead, unsure of what to do.]
Um... Okay! If you're sure, then...
[Then... they can kiss. The aperture of each pupil constricts, honing in on Cas. Self-consciously piano teeth clack together tightly, like he couldn't do wrong if he kept his mouth closed, even while he salivated at the floral, sweet scent of the Terra-type beneath his cloak.
When Lyle finally touches Cassius, it's with utmost gentleness. He draws him back somewhat, pulling him away from that larger, more threatening maw. He stoops lower to close distance between them, curtain still draped around his head. Simpering, he lets go of Cassius's shoulders; his hands flail in the air, uncertain what to do with them.]
Um... M-Maybe it's better that we not... n-not think of it like human affection? Since neither of us are human, and we'll b-both be clumsy at it anyway. [He licks his lips; he's nervous about KISSIN.] It could be, um, w-whatever! Whatever we want!
[Cassius lets Lyle move him back, his steps as light as the hands at his shoulders. It's sweet that Lyle is careful with him, all warm hands and nervous concern as he pulls away and lowers himself to Cas’ level. As he does, Cas is already drifting back into his orbit, drawn to Lyle like a moth to a flame and settling in at a good kissing distance.
At Lyle's suggestion, surprise flickers across Cas’ face, a string of microexpressions that melt into something warmer, fonder once the words sink in. To think of it not as human affections, but monstrous ones… it’s something that had never occurred to him, not really. He's spent so long trying to adapt to human rules and comforts that he'd naturally thought Lyle would follow them as well. To hear that he'd rather not…
It's… nice. Not having to worry about it is nice.]
I think I would like that, yes. [A softer tone for a softer look, one given from under his lashes, extra kissable, extra twinky.] For it to be what we wish it to be.
[They… might be talking about different things here. It's fine. More importantly -
Lyle's hands don't flail for long, Cassius doesn't let them. His Kissing Eli Experience has him carefully catching them out of the air and guiding them to his cheeks, hoping to… ground him, maybe. Reassurance that, yes, Cas still wants this, please believe him. Plus, his Eli likes to hold his face when he kisses. Maybe Lyle would like it, too. (If not, well. Cassius’ grip isn't very firm for a reason.)
He leans in a little, ready for his promised smooch. Eager, even, if his still open eyes are anything to go by. Not gonna get away with Lens KissingTM him this time, Lyle. Only proper mouth smooches here.]
[The easy way Cassius immediately returns to close proximity with Lyle flusters him greatly... which only serves to heat him. Oh god, he's so close. Oh god, he's about to kiss. His nerves are just as hot as his cheeks, palms sticky with sweat. Unpleasant.
His very many eyes are good for measuring the minutia of expressions, as they twitch upon Cassius's features so slightly, softly. ... Did Lyle think of his own suggestion as embracing being more monstrous? After a fashion, yes. He couldn't be human anymore, and even looking back... he felt more like an other, unable to fully integrate with society save for distant yearning. It wasn't easy to be human when he'd only ever watched humans do human things. Emulating them wasn't simple.
So twinky. Lyle is impossibly stunned by his delicate features, inviting and nonthreatening. He wonders if... this shell of Cassius's was designed to appeal to humans, then.]
Yeah... That sounds nice.
[And he means it, a breathless sentiment. --His hands are drawn to press to Cas's cheeks. His clammy, unpleasant hands and newly sharpened claws. He leaves them there, maw agape in surprise; Cassius leans.
It's time. For kiss. Lyle isn't sure he's 100% ready for smooching... but even while he felt nervous enough to vomit, he also felt longing. A strange cocktail, as Cassius keeps his eyes on him to monitor him.
His feet click against the floor, body stuttering mechanically. ...One thing he manages of his own is the draw of a sharp claw, tracing over Cassius's brow... a muted guilt pangs in him, as though he were stealing something he had no right to. Of course, when did guilt ever stop Lyle?
It's with that feeling churning in him that he stoops the rest of the way, sprockets stuttering and joints grinding that he... tries to purse his lips. Tries to kiss, to form the rubbery gasket-like material of his new features into something kissable. And though he doesn't keep his eyes wide open, he can't help wanting to... watch. Lenses only curtained by his shutters, he tries to match their lips. But aside from pressing tentatively to Cas, Lyle finds himself... buffering.]
[Yesss, YESSSSS. Finally, he gets his kisses. Cassius watches as Lyle gets closer, taking in the lines of his face, the textures that he wishes he could feel. But he doesn't need to feel the entirety of the kiss to know that he enjoys it; when Lyle finally makes contact, warmth blooms inward from his mouth and shivers through his worms like a breeze. He may even be melting a little.
For Lyle, kissing Cas is… an experience. There isn't warmth to his mouth like a human would have, and it has more give to it, too, easily forming to fit Lyle's less than human features. Like the rest of him, there's movement to his kiss, a squirm behind his lips fueled by tiny, greedy bodies. But what Cas lacks in normalcy, he more than makes up with enthusiasm; where Lyle falters, Cas presses forward, slanting his mouth slightly, joy thrumming through him at the contact.
And all through this, eye contact, lids hooding in a mirror of Lyle's own, but no less watchful for it. He wants to see Lyle's reaction just as much as Lyle is interested in his own.
Confident that Lyle's hands will stay put, Cas lets one of them go to do what he'd intended to the first time: cup Lyle's cheek. His touch is light as his fingers slip into that space between Lyle's skin and the sheet he wears, lighter still as his palm finds a home.
For a moment, it seems like Cassius is just content with this. Content with just pressing mouths and sharing affection.
Unfortunately for Lyle, Eli is… a confident kisser. A good one. A tongue and teeth and then some kind of kisser. And Cas has … well. Learned everything about kissing from Eli. He's clumsier at it, sure, but that freight train confidence is there, and -
Yup. There it is. There's his tongue, running along the seam of Lyle's mouth. There's the hint of teeth at his lip.
Yeah, uh. Have some more buffer for your buffer, Lyle.]
–Back up a little. How could Lyle know anything about the texture of a kiss when all he's ever known is the sensation of Sam pressed to his lens? He isn't sure what to expect... But he's spent the greater portion of his life as a human, and knows that Cas is registering as colder than he ought to be. Or at least, colder than a human ought to be? Inwardly he corrects himself. After all, the temp startled him. He'd momentarily wondered if Cassius was alright...
He doesn't have much space to wonder things. He has only Cassius, here, kissing him, and... enjoying it. Cas is enjoying it? (Lyle wonders if he's fooling himself.) He isn't sure what to do with his mouth; they're pressed together, and Cassius isn't showing any indication of parting, so...
Lyle's second mouth doesn't have a voice box. He can't form sounds with that massive maw, but it sloppily parts its lips with a click of its tongue, taken aback by Cassius's boldness, swiping at Lyle's lips for a taste of him. Already and he feels lightheaded. Is that normal for a kiss? Should he have gulped down a breath of air first?? Because no, he didn't want to stop him, not while his heart pointed and his abdomen throbbed with it–
The gentle touch of hands on his face, the feeling of Cassius between his own palms... Dizzily, Lyle groans and unceremoniously parts from Cassius, unfocused and bleary. But he doesn't go far, gasping for air.]
Oh no, I m... I'm sorry, I messed it up... [It's all he can manage, expression drawn into desperate want.
... That was pretty much a french kiss. Oh, good. And he messed it up. (He can't help it when his next thought is to wonder if Sam would ever kiss him like this. Or could he... watch him kiss like this? Not someone else, no. Just... Kissing a non-person. An observer. Kissing Lyle, where he could watch it.
(Sam kissing Cassius–) (Could he stomach it? Either of them kissing someone else?) (He wonders how much Cas kisses like this, and feels guilt once again for wanting his attention at all--))]
[Lyle pulls away, and while Cas has a smidge of confusion at first, it fades away into understanding; Lyle has lungs, so of course he needs to pull away. Kissing for long periods, Cassius knows, makes breathing for those with lungs difficult.
(He does not consider the giant mouth taking up Lyle's lower half when coming to this conclusion; Cassius is familiar enough with monstrous anatomy to know not to assume, especially when his own mouth is… mostly for aesthetic and kissing.)
At the apology, Cassius shakes his head.]
You did not mess it up, friend Lyle. It is not your fault that I had forgotten you breathe through your mouth. [Too tunnel-visioned, maybe, but can you really blame him when his prize was right there within smooching distance??
With patient contentment, he adds:] You may catch your breath before we go again. I do not mind waiting.
[Said like he hadn't even considered that Lyle might not care for a round two. His hands pull back to tuck against his chest, quietly eager to reach for Lyle's cheeks again.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
roomies!
They (literally) step through the door to their apartment, umbrella tucked under one arm, as they tick to the beat of a song they once heard--
--only to come to a sudden stop with surprised chime as they catch sight of someone taking up a good portion of their living room.]
< Um... Hello? >
no subject
[Lyle startles. He doesn't have much in the way of personal effects, thus having nothing more than his actual body to occupy space... but that in itself is robust, enough to turn that living room into something far smaller. That startle... isn't what he'd wanted to greet Dante with. Not in the slightest.
But what was he supposed to do if Dante literally walked through the door?? It hadn't even opened! Lyle is SURE of this, but he doubts his own perception, round, glassy eyes flicking between them and the closed, locked door.]
H... H-Hello! Hi! I-I'm Lyle! [Lyle's many, many feet pitter-patter nervously against the floor, and he grips his drapes tight in front of his body as he stares at Dante. (Wow... He wasn't sure what to imagine of Dante's appearance, but this was quite strange indeed.)] You must be, um... the manager?
[Shoot. Did he ever catch Dante's name? Manager is all Lyle remembers... as he attempts to continue explaining anything.] I'm- I'm living with you! Um, with permission, of course? If y-you're okay with it? Ahh...
[He is really messing this up. He's supposed to say something better than this, like Gregor invited me to move in, or I'm not just breaking into some stranger's house or anything right now, I'd never do something like that-- Lyle's body clicks and revs, the sounds of sprockets reeling in his body to indicate his nervousness.]
no subject
Though mostly they're stuck on the stutter. This guy might even have Sinclair beat.
Dante holds up a hand, hoping it'll make them look a little less threatening so their new guest will calm down. (Do they look threatening?)]
< Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Just a little surprised myself is all. Gregor invited you over, right? >
[There's no one else around here who would call them Manager that they know of. They hook their umbrella on the arm of a chair near the door.
Well... they trust Gregor's judgment, so--]
< I'm fine with it. Might have to move things around a little to make you comfortable, though. >
no subject
[... Lyle leaves it at that, shrinking into himself. It does very little to reduce the impression of him being quite sizeable; the rooms at the Valentia just wouldn't accommodate him, and Gregor took pity on that.
Dante doesn't seem upset with him. If Lyle felt threatened before, their calm response manages to help soothe his nerves, and he sighs.]
Oh... Whoa. Just like that?! [Lyle is beside himself. The look he gives Dante is surprise, and he rears up slightly. Under his breath:] Such a smooth operator...!
[Anyway:] I can't thank you enough. It's p-pretty cold outside. [deadass had been planning to sleep outside... no wonder he's so pitiable. Lyle manages a nervous smile.] D-Don't feel like you have to do anything at all for me. Really! I'll t-try to keep to a corner the best I can. If anything, there's got to be something I c-can give in return as thanks...?
no subject
< It is starting to get pretty chilly out there, isn't it? Can't say I blame you for wanting to stay somewhere warmer. >
[This place is in rough enough shape to get a bit drafty in this weather, but at least it's out of the worst of it. Nothing like a wall between you and the wind.]
< As for something in return... Split the rent once you get a job, maybe? That's pretty standard. If you need a nudge in the right direction, the Velvet Claw usually has a few jobs up for people to take on. Other than that... >
[Hm...]
< Can you cook? >
[Because they don't eat food and Gregor needs something better than his own cooking.]
no subject
'Get a job.' Lyle seems to deflate slightly; his camera-like eyes flick to the ground. Yeah... it figures that he'd need to get employment, but he notion seems to make him antsy again while he shifts upon metal legs that click, click against the floor. But that final request... Something in him revs, surprise writ on his features again like he's taken aback.]
Oh. Cooking? Y-Yeah, really basic things. It's um... it's been a while. [He sucks in air through his prominent teeth.] B-Back home, I haven't had a fridge for some time. It broke a while ago, and I haven't gotten it replaced. Kinda hard to do much cooking without the ingredients. B-But I'm sure I could m-manage something! What do you... like?
[Lyle peers at Dante some more. They don't seem to have an orifice for eating from... but you can't judge a book by its cover, or a clock by their face! He readily assumes maybe they want him to cook something for them, rather than this being for Gregor's sake.]
no subject
Maybe prosthetics are more common where he's from too. Or something went wrong? It seems like it'd be rude to bring it up, especially since he hasn't said anything about their head.]
< I'm... not sure what he likes, actually. We usually had to deal with rations back home unless we were being treated... Unless you were talking about me? >
[They hold up a hand again, somehow managing to look a little sheepish, even without a proper face or expression.]
< You don't need to worry about me. My tastes are a little, uh... different... these days. >
no subject
[That's actually... really sweet? Lyle is getting the bigger picture. Dante's tastes are different, and thus, the diets between the two differ. Lyle smiles.]
I can t-try! Maybe he'll even find something he likes, heh. ... Ummmm.
[The elephant in the room. Lyle squints slightly at Dante; his jaw goes slack, and his aperture shrinks, clearly honing in on Dante's face.]
What... are your t-tastes? [do they have tastes how do they taste]
no subject
[A bit blunt. More than a bit blunt. But it's best to rip the bandaid off now, right? He's gonna learn eventually.
But they continue on before the word can hang in the air on its own for too long.]
< As in actual lifeforce, or something close to it. It's, uh, a new thing--a Spectral thing. To be honest, I'm not used to eating or feeling hungry or thirsty at all. >
[They sigh and shrug helplessly.]
< It could be worse, though? I've heard it doesn't hurt. >
no subject
If it doesn't hurt... That c-cant be so bad. So I bet you have to like, siphon it up m-magically or, or something?
[That's kind of cool. It reminds him of some of the elements built into his Mazes & Wizards campaign, and here he is, talking to someone in real life who steals life energy...!
He tries not to relate to it too hard, and tempers his fascination. Lyle's body clicks while he moves slightly, increasingly relaxed in Dante's presence.]
If you n-need anything like that, I can probably give you some of mine? It's the least I c-can do. You didn't ask to be turned into a Spectral-type.
no subject
[They're about to explain further, just in case he starts worrying about the apartment going up in flames, when he offers up his own, and they can't help the surprised-yet-delighted chime that ends up slipping out of them.]
< Really? Wow, that'd be a big help. I'm usually pretty good about not taking too much, but you might be a little dizzy and tired afterward when I do. >
[The Spectral part of them might prefer the "hunt," but even it has to agree that it's so much easier when this is how it goes, right?]
no subject
[If Lyle could still pale, he would. The very moment Dante mentions fire... Ahh, he should have known. The flames... Still, they say it's not the kind that burns.
Lyle still titters and creaks nervously.]
D-D-Dizzy and tired, I c-can do. But, um. [He hisses a little bit, attempting to wrap his mind around non-burning fire.] I'm... I'm really, extremely flammable. Y-You don't think that'll... c-cause any problems?
[He had chemicals that could ignite. Photo paper everywhere on his person. ...Lots of fabric. Lyle himself would be okay, probably; it was his stash of photos he kept...]
no subject
< If I can lay back in bed and have it not catch fire, you should be fine too. >
[They're confident enough to say that, anyway. Otherwise their tail would have been one hell of a fire hazard when it came in too.]
< Besides, it's not even hot. If it was, we'd save a lot more money trying to heat up the place. >
no subject
[Lyle is safe to eat from. Fabulous. He asks next,] But, um... Did you say you were used to not eating before this? You... never ate before?
[is clock... NOT new? Like how Lyle As Shutterbug is also not new? He blinks, shutters dilating with a pronounced click.]
no subject
[They didn't realize they'd been here that long. Almost as long as they've existed...
They shake their head before they can get too lost in their thoughts.]
< Uh, anyways, I had a whole year to get used to not feeling hunger or thirst or sleeping in the same way others seem to. >
no subject
[That's some fantastical stuff right there. Lyle's meeting a lot of people who seem quite fantastical. He wonders if the prosthetic's the reason Dante can't remember much from before, that maybe memories from pre-prosthetic were lost when they... presumably lost their head?
Lyle decides not to ask after this absurd line of questioning. His face screws up a little bit as he glances towards the ground, trying to make sense of it all. Dante said it all so casually that he feels extra strange for needing to catch up...]
Guess now you have to get used to a whole d-different sort of not-feeling-hunger. Except now you do, and you have to suck the life force from your foes...! ... N-Not foes. P-Pretend I d-didn't say that. [He looks extremely embarrassed. Why did he say that. Lyle shakes his head.] Just p-p-people. Yeah. Ha ha.
no subject
[If it turns out they can't go back to how they used to be, that's probably how they're going to feed in the future. Maybe, they think with some amusement, they'll end up having to share their meals with the bus.]
< Though you've offered, so maybe "people" is what I should go with after all. You've been fine so far, so I really don't wanna think of you as a foe. >
[A foe as a roommate just sounds like an awkward situation ready to happen.]
no subject
[Lyle swallows. He flushes out of embarrassment.]
I d-don't remember your name... [did gregor ever mention it? lyle isn't sure. he might've just forgotten. he decides that's the case.]
no subject
[They reply in a cheerful tick, then walk over and hold their hand out for Lyle to shake.]
< Happy to have you aboard. As a, uh, roommate I mean. Sorry, been at the job fair all day so I'm still a bit stuck in "manager" mode right now. > [They don't mention they get stuck in that even without the job fairs] < If a handshake's too formal we, could... Um. >
[Tock.]
< High... five? >
[...And that's a fumble at the end.]
no subject
He's staggered, a bit. He looks slack-jawed about the suggestion to high-five, but in reality it's about the ease they've received him with. When he startles back to life, he offers a hand, rigidly.]
Y-Yes! High... five?
[That's fine by him. Less formal than a handshake. Feels team-building, like he's...]
Happy to b-be aboard! Heheh. [He manages a grin, though it's through his usual nerves.]
text, un: wurmfren
Hello, friend Lyle. Would you like a kiss?
no subject
Maybe, Lyle believed this was all an elaborate prank, or hallucination, or... something. He's feeling a bit woozy. But he is simultaneously... hungry. Starved for contact and attention, having avoided people as much as possible. He trembles as he types.]
cassius? what brought this on? i'm not opposed, or anything, just wondering...
no subject
If you are not opposed, then I shall be happy to do so, friend Lyle.
no subject
you really want to? wow. if you want that too, i'm all in! i mean, not minding and whatnot. yes!
[He keeps wanting to ask innocently if Cassius is taken, or if his partner (Eli) is okay with it... but it would shatter the fantasy of having something he fears he never could. So he says... nothing.]
no subject
[ And because he both thinks it's perfectly logical, and "social norms" is just a phrase: ]
Where do you wish for me to meet you?
[ Yyyyeah, he kind of means now. He's a bit of a bulldozer this way, sorry Lyle. ]
no subject
[RIGHT NOW??? There is so little chance to respond...! The apartment isn't terribly spacious, but Lyle can't think of anywhere else to go... The living room is where he currently is, anyway. It's... basically his room. He just hopes Gregor and Dante aren't quietly here...]
i'm living in east sophia. there's an apartment building back away from the main road... [And he provides an address! It is indeed: an apartment. Small. Crappy.]
no subject
[And he does. Makes a straight beeline for it, even, because what kind of friend would he be to keep Lyle waiting?? Takes him a little bit to get there, sure. Legs aren't the fastest mode of transportation, and after his experience with Eli on the tram... yeah. He's fine walking.
He has a little trouble finding the address, and maybe he even asks for directions along the way, but!! He finds it, and that's all that matters.
If there's a doorbell, he'll ring it, otherwise there's a polite knock at the door. (Is that the jaws theme in the background? Surely not.) Either way -
Hi, yes, hello. He is here.]
no subject
He isn't sure whether to feel excited or chilled. And if they kiss... would Lyle try to take a picture of him instead? Lyle touches his face, worries at his mouth. It doesn't feel right, and he doubts the whole thing...
As he hears Cassius rapping at the door. Lyle jumps, clamping down on his budding claws to bite at them. His too-many legs become unmanageable; he scuttles in place uselessly, bumping into a side table, which he reaches to stabilize with haste.]
C-Coming!!
[don't knock over furniture, dante and gregor have been so gracious to let him stay here at all and he's STILL not paying his share of rent...! (Would he ever? A worry for... tomorrow, perhaps. Always tomorrow.) He can't afford to break stuff! Carefully he navigates to the door; the furniture's been arranged so that Lyle doesn't struggle to navigate, but he still feels compelled to be careful.
When he opens the door, it's just a crack. But he pushes it slightly more, gripping onto his cloak tightly. ...He's already flushed and disheveled.]
H-Hi, C-Cassius! C-Come in, if, if you want? Unless you don't w-want to ... um, the invitation's there...
[Maybe he misunderstood everything, or maybe Cassius just wants to kiss and run, or... Lyle laughs breathlessly, glancing away.]
no subject
Undeterred by Lyle's nerves, he eases the door open enough to slip through.] I would not mind coming in, no. Thank you for the invitation.
[Once in, Cas takes in the apartment with a curious look, letting the chill of the cold bleed away. The warmth has him wondering if Lyle's roommates would be mad if Cassius just… spirited Lyle and his heat away to his and Eli's home beyond the barrier. He is sure Eli wouldn't mind - he is fond of his monsters, and Cas would vouch for him - but... no, no. Lyle is probably better off in the safety of the barrier.
Even if the apartment was clearly not made for his size.
…hm. He'll put a pin in it for later. For now, Cassius turns. Tilts his head up to look up at Lyle.]
Have you been well, friend Lyle?
[Cas at least has enough sense not to ask about kisses right away. Soon, though. S o o n.]
no subject
(This, he thinks, must be something fueled by being a... Carnivora-type. What can he do?)
Lyle squeaks at the prompting.] Yes! Doing fine! [He didn't really think the question through, but he's accustomed to responding with positive minimals.] Just fine.
H-How about you, Cassius? Doing... good?
[Hard to forget he's here for kisses. Lyle's cheeks remain warm as he takes a few steps forward (so bold!), an indication that this living room is kinda Lyle's space to hang about in.]
no subject
[Lyle steps forward into his space, and Cassius welcomes it, squirm slowing into a happy, rosy churn. Were he anyone else, he might have been a little intimidated about how Lyle towers over him at least a good three and a halfish feet, but… all Cassius is really concerned with is which mouth Lyle would wish him to kiss first and the best way to reach it.
Standing on the furniture would be rude, Cas knows, but he doesn't want Lyle to bend at awkward angles, either. Even as greedy as he is for Lyle-on-Cassius contact, Lyle's comfort comes first.
(...if he'd known this was how he would be spending his day, he would have made his shell taller.)
He holds a hand out to Lyle, petals shifting with his thoughts. He offers up a small smile.] How would you like to go about this, friend Lyle?
[How would you like your Cas?]
no subject
Terra-types, he thinks, are quite beautiful. But Cassius would make for any good soul type. Lyle sighs, staring at his features, tracing over the petals, the tinge to his skin, the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips...
... while that question hangs in the air... ...]
Eep-! Sorry, sorry! [Lyle's legs buckle and skitter. For a moment he even covers his eyes, but in doing so, many more peek through the opening of his cloak. Failure. It's useless to try, so Lyle drops his hands, wringing them in front of his body.] I w-wasn't thinking, what did... How d-do we go about... ??
[How do we go about this. Lyle realizes... Cassius is bold. His face flushes deeper, hotter. (It was easier to have Sam kiss him; desperation won over, he made Sam kiss his camera lens, he took a photo to last longer.....)
Lyle's breath hitches.]
R-Right. Right! That. Kissing. [A long breath spools from his mouth.] I-If you, um... could close your eyes?
[... He didn't have anything to hide from Cassius, though. Except for all of himself; again, his heart skips a beat at the thought of actually kissing Cassius. At least if his eyes were closed, he couldn't judge him... Despite his height, Lyle's hunching, his hand-wringing- there isn't anything about him that is imposing save for his mass.]
no subject
In fact, his thoughts are already moving along, latching onto what Lyle says next.
Which. Hm. Cassius… has not kissed a lot of people. Only the one, in fact, though he's seen it done countless times in the world beyond the television, and in the world around him. But even then, he has never understood why the humans prefer to close their eyes; Cassius would much rather keep them open. How can anyone expect him to close his eyes, when the way his Eli's freckles curve, the way his brows furrow in clear enjoyment is right there?
So it's with a flicker of disappointment that he takes in Lyle's request. It's pushed down immediately, sure, because that is what Cas does, but it doesn't stop the small change in his worms’ squirm. Doesn't stop Cas from wanting to know what Lyle looks like when smooching.
That's okay, though. Cassius is patient and persistent.]
If that is what you would like, friend Lyle.
[And then his eyes slide shut, head tipping back just a little bit more. Expectant, maybe. Certainly no pressure here at all.]
no subject
To remain the voyeur; to watch Cassius, but not allow for it to go both ways.
Lyle laces his fingers together in front of him while the mechanical clicking and tapping fills the room, as Lyle draws closer on many tapping feet. His thumb traces around the edge of the prominent bellows on his chest; he swallows, his lower tongue running over his large lower lip damply. He's hesitant; his body pulses, the throb of his heart unnervingly thick.]
Okay... Yes, j-just like that. That's p... perfect.
[A creepy thing to say? Maybe. But the nerves he feels are shot, and he's suddenly compelled to have Cassius... kiss his camera lens instead. Lyle believes it: he would be an unpleasant kiss, for reasons beyond being made up of rubbery skin and prominent teeth. He'd be clumsy; he's never known how to kiss, hasn't dared even mime the motions... He would ruin it by involving his body.
And Lyle feels his hunger for Cassius growing. Each time he interacts with him he remains so kind and patient... He radiates a calm he can't place, a sweetness rare. Lyle could only hope to observe. (That Cassius wanted to kiss him- he still struggles to comprehend it, like it was his own wish fulfillment that is making this happen.) As he draws closer, the fabric of his chest parts. Lyle lines up... the large lens of his major camera with Cassius's face.]
Okay... r-ready!
[... If Cassius doesn't bother to look, Lyle is... Well, kissing Lyle will be a very smooth, flat, glassy experience. Boiling hot and unyielding, a slight curvature to the surface... He's having him kiss a whole damn camera lens. Never a normal choice, but it's a Lyle choice.]
no subject
A benefit for Lyle right now to be sure, as is the fact that… well. Cassius’ shell doesn't have nerves like a human does. There's something there, something given to him by his Terra soul that makes it twinge in hurt whenever he deigns to pick at his petaled layers, but textures, things aside from heat? Those are still a pipe dream.
So when that lens presses up against his mouth, Cas doesn't think much of the shape. There are many souls and many monsters, so maybe Lyle's mouth is just firmer than it looks. Truly, the only thought he has is that it's warm. Hot, even, like a summer's day, his shell acting as a barrier to protect his worms from the worst of it.
It's nice. Very nice, but…
Unfortunately for Lyle, Cassius - he isn't a Sam agreeing to a kiss in exchange for a photographer’s help. Cassius wants to kiss him, and it's made very clear by the way his nose smooshes a little into the lens, the way his hand drifts up to caress. He expects cheek, or the edge of Lyle's larger mouth, or… anything else than what he actually gets: the numerous ups and downs in the shape of a… corner. Something that, Cas knows, isn't mouth related at all.
Where is his mouth? Where is Lyle's face? Where are the kisses he was promised??
Now there's slight disappointment and a good amount of confusion. Cas hasn't opened his eyes yet, but his hand goes higher, feeling.]
no subject
The particular way Cassius kisses him—even Lyle can tell that it's with the anticipation for... more. It isn't with the tentative hesitation Sam treated him with, not with a scrunched brow or any reluctance. Cassius kissed him and meant it. Lyle bites his lower lip, and nearly yelps when he feels Cassius probe at the edge of his lens.
(That he can feel it... Well, it's all become a part of him now. It's not particularly sensitive, but he feels his fingers dance from edge to edge, feeling along the corner. He isn't sure what Cassius is trying to feel. His warmth, maybe?)
Lyle scuttles back a step, detaching the kiss before Cassius's wandering hands can reach any higher. He exhales a shuddering breath, and...
Strange. There's some kind of connection, some tether invisible having come from this round of contact—and with it, the acute sense that Cas is left wanting. Lyle's stomach flips; butterflies, confusion of his own, uncertainty, yearning.
The drapes are drawn again, tight over his camera.]
Okay! Y-You can look now. Heh...
[What did you think? he nearly asks, and he isn't sure why. He searches Cassius's face, aware that Cassius... wanted something that he didn't get. Indeed, Sam had been given something first; there was nothing but a slight relief to have properly sealed the exchange of goods/services. He swallows, shyly averting his gaze.
He may be looking down, but one of the eyes at his neck is fixed on Cassius. His many legs click and tap as he attempts to condense himself in this small room to appear smaller, as he finally says,] Umm, sorry. Sorry! I'm n-not very... very kissable. I know.
[But oh, he wanted in spite of it. Beneath his cloak he traces the lower edge of his protruding lens, reminiscing over the pliancy of Cassius's lips, his skin...]
no subject
It's… nice. Warm. Keeps his squirm the same despite how it wants to twist into something aggravated.
At Lyle's go ahead, Cas opens his eyes to find him once more hidden tightly behind his sheet. If Cassius was capable of sighing out his nose, he'd do so, but alas, that requires lungs and he is worms. Instead, he peers up at Lyle, and when it becomes obvious that Lyle won't return his gaze, he locks his eyes to the eye that will.
I'm not very kissable, I know - ]
I would not know. [A pointed tilt of his head.] You have not kissed me, friend Lyle.
[And he wants to, is the thing. It would have been different if Cassius had felt… unwillingness from Lyle's side. Aversion. But he hasn't, doesn't, and the knowledge their new connection provides has him closing the distance Lyle had made, crowding and determined.
And… maybe a little accusing. Just a smidge.]
Why?
no subject
[A very sheepish, unconvincing smile spreads across Lyle's face into something much more like a simper. There's... something fiery he can feel- a strange thing, given that Lyle scarcely knew what it was like to get particularly mad or assertive. He just isn't like that, too cowardly and too spineless.
It felt strange and new... belonging outside of his body. Lyle swallows dryly.
Well, technically, Cassius kissed Lyle. But Lyle reads it: Cassius is right. Lyle didn't kiss him back. His face remains hot and his palms are sweaty beneath the drapes he keeps over himself, and Cassius's bold approach has Lyle shrinking some more. It'd be comical to an outside viewer, this smaller, petal-soft man encroaching upon Lyle's hulking form.
Lyle averts his gaze again and stammers, a slight whine accompanying the crunching of gears and sprockets. His legs splay some more, his fluster causing some of them to lift and stick out at strange angles.]
I-I, uhh... You're right. I didn't kiss you, but that was me. S-Sorry. I...
[He got to see Cassius kiss him, from an angle that was rather unorthodox for a person. Somehow, Lyle enjoyed that, even if it left him wanting more... But how? Downcast, he tries to sink into himself some more, to no avail. He twiddles his thumbs, failing to meet Cassius's eyes.]
I d-d-don't know. I don't know why! Maybe I p-panicked? I just... I'm sorry.
no subject
Please do not apologize, friend Lyle. I just wish to understand.
[Lyle's feelings, his reasons, his wants. They're a mystery to him, especially what little he gets from their new bond.
It's… not often that Cassius is nervous. Really, the only time he's ever been so is when he's had to confess to things people have always been cagey about in the past. Being worms, eating people. It helps him to recognize that feeling that's slowly burrowing through him like roots, one he knows shouldn't be his; he has no reason to be nervous.
But Lyle - he clearly seems to think he does. Seems to find something about Cassius intimidating, despite all of his attempts to appear otherwise. The realization… doesn't feel nice. Maybe even hurts.
Lyle twiddles his thumbs, offers up a reason that only seems to reinforce that feeling. It has Cas pushing further into his bubble without concern for Lyle's sharp edges; he is, after all, used to his caring coming with costs.]
Was it I that made you panic, friend Lyle? [Asked to the largest eye, any eye, that will look at him. If none of them will, he'll look up at Lyle’s more human face again, his own clearly wanting answers.
And despite knowing that there's something across their connection that suggests otherwise: ] Do you not want to kiss me after all?
no subject
[With immediate denial, Lyle waves his hands in front of him. The upper shutters of his eye lower, slanted in worry, as he balls fabric in his fists. (Despite everything, Lyle's hands are remarkably human, made of flesh and bone. Claws, thick and black and curved, irritate his fingertips with their recent eruption... but it's a beastly trait aginst human fingers.) One of his eyes can only blink, Lyle struggling to control all of them at once... so it maintains eye contact with Cassius, even while Lyle bites his lower lip in apprehension.
Did Cassius make him panic? Not him, specifically... Did he not want to kiss Cassius? Absolutely not true! But his own want...
Lyle balls his fingers together some more, worrying at knobby knuckles. Blunt, rounded teeth worry at his lip some more... but it's tension and greed that encourage Lyle to slip into a Partial Shift, more of his Carnivora traits prematurely showing. His teeth hone sharper, fur growth on the backs of his hands a stark black, coarse and thick... but those changes are all that can be observed beyond his cloak as Lyle continues to restrain himself, dizzying himself with reasons he could begin to verbalize.
He hisses through his teeth, a sharp inhale. Pained, he keeps his vision downcast.]
Argh, I m-messed it all up. C-Cassius...
[His clawed hands grope towards the sides of his head, lifting slightly (and purely on accident) some of his curtains, spreading the fabric to expose some of his lower mouth, teeth flashing—but pulled into a frown. He clutches the sides of his head, pulls fabric to slightly cover his eyes.
(Ineffective: eyes all over his torso blink like stars at Cassius; a massive, dark lens, rectangular and—deep, deep in that black, a constricting pupil-like aperture... They watch Cassius, even while Lyle's distress inspires him to cover his eyes, to peek past the many others that exist...)
He thinks on his own behavior, even past the noise of his anxiety. Lyle took this chance to kiss Cassius so greedily that the notion that Cassius Wanted This isn't something he can readily convince himself. But when he looks at Lyle this way, betrayed and hurt, it was because... this is someone who wanted to kiss him.
Not someone who was allowing Lyle to have. To take, as part of an exchange. Cassius... came here, only in response to the offer to kiss.
Lyle feels guilt sink his heart. His fingertips probe down from the top of his head to press against his cheeks. That massive camera lens stares at Cassius in front of Lyle's chest, shamelessly focusing and unfocusing to study every detail of Cassius's features.]
I d-d-do! But, um... Cassius? [His voice cracks; it's smaller, tight.] D-Do you... really want that? I...
[Shoot. Not even this is adequate. Lyle's stomach churns with guilt; framing it as feeling inadequate, or that Cassius was doing this for Lyle, doesn't entirely capture the source of his worries. It was more insidious. That given any inch, he'd scrape and take what he could; that even if Cassius didn't want to kiss him, he could still have at least this.
It's not a simple thing to distill into a short explanation! So Lyle winces instead; he leans for Cassius. He's a fusion of pained remorse and unchecked want.]
Y-You'd really, actually k-kiss me?
no subject
You did not mess anything up, friend Lyle. Please do not worry. I would kiss you, yes. It is what I am here for.
[And … Cassius doesn't really understand how Lyle could have thought otherwise. He's not one to beat around the bush for these sorts of things, and he'd thought he'd made his intentions clear from the moment he'd messaged Lyle his question. But… it wouldn't be the first time he was misinterpreted. Even his Eli had found fault in the way he'd strung his words at points, too caught in his own head to see the meaning laid bare.
Perhaps Lyle is like that, too. Too twisted up by those heavy, suffocating feelings that seem to curl at Cassius' own insides.]
You have been kind, and you are warm, and we are friends. [Said simple and honest, just like all those small bodies filling his shell. Where Lyle's words have to claw out of him, Cas’ come easy with his candidness.] I enjoy your company. Why would I not wish to kiss you?
[His attention is drawn lower, to his reflection in the smooth surface of Lyle's lens. What Lyle had him kiss, he's sure; it matches up with the shape his fingers had followed, anyway.
I didn't kiss you, but that was me.
Without thinking Cassius' hand comes up, fingers moving to trace the frame of it proper. It's warm, just like the rest of Lyle. Despite it not being what Cas had wanted, it had been nice to kiss.
His gaze drifts up.]
I did not lie when I said I believed you were very kissable, friend Lyle. Would you allow me to prove it?
no subject
Just in time for Cassius to caress the largest lens on his front. He watches him do it, doesn't interfere... He falls silent for a moment, watching Cassius willingly encroach on him without threat and without chagrin. The scent of roses engulfs him, mixes with the stuffy sweetness of developer.
Abruptly, Lyle gives another problem. His voice is quiet.]
I've never... kissed before. N-Never kissed anyone else, I mean.
[His heart stutters, pulse quick. White stripes paint Lyle's features, running along his cheeks and down the center of his forehead like a badger's markings. Once more, the closer Cassius got, the more guilt eats at his edges. He still feels he's about to take, a thief bartering an unassuming man for a stolen kiss.
He can't stop thinking that way. It's why he glances to the ground again, the focus of his many apertures whirring in the dark of the living room.]
So... Heh. It'll need to be proved, is what I'm saying. Since... h-how would I know?
[Can't say he's very kissable if he's never kissed anybody back! Though he tries for a weak grin, his lower mouth refuses to budge from its taut frown, each of his eyes drawn in worry.]
no subject
He can understand being in unknown territory. Being unsure if he's enough.]
…my Eli is the only one I have ever kissed. [He keeps eye contact for a moment longer, before he drops it to the lens, looking to the reflection that stares back at him. His fingers still, thoughts drifting through memories of high, dark ceilings and bodies tangled comfortably amongst the worms. Fonder times. Simpler ones.] Before I was brought here, I had only known my Hunter and my Gardener, both who show their affection in different ways. I had seen kisses done on the tiny screens by the tiny people, had seen them stolen under the late light of the moon, but it was not for me, I had thought. It was for the humans. People.
[His squirm hiccups, his gaze lifting like it takes some effort to pull himself away from the memories. His hand pulls away from the lens as he steps around it, nudges closer to Lyle's larger mouth, undaunted.] Even now, I am still learning. Still clumsy when it comes to human affections.
[His head tilts, taking in the frown and the worry and the weight both bring. His fingers are feather-light as they slide into place along the corner of Lyle's mouth. His thumb runs small lines along the lower lip.]
You will be clumsy, too, but I do not mind. [A small smile.] There is enjoyment in learning, I think.
no subject
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tunes back in, trying to forget about Eli for the moment.
... There's a lot about Cassius he has to learn. Aside from his kindness and the fact that he is a singular entity of worms, he knew little of his background- but this is something for Lyle to marvel over. Kisses on screens, stolen beneath the moonlight? And none for Cassius; he knew only what it was like to kiss Eli.
Cas reaches to... the larger of Lyle's mouths. Drifting along the lip of his taut frown. Cassius draws so close; Lyle could disappear him in an instant. Somehow, this fact unsettles Lyle, an intrusive thought that he wonders he might someday succumb to if faced with too much sweetness and regard.
He didn't deserve any of it. But Cassius offers to teach him... despite still learning himself. Even if Lyle tries to close the shutters of his eyes, the rest of his body is devastatingly drawn to keep watching; at least one eye is on Cassius at all times, watching him trace along his lip, close to his body, all the way to the corner of it.
Lyle did not feel particularly human, then. Between them, Cassius felt more like one. He lets go of the edges of his cloak, letting them hang; his too-long arms almost reach for Cassius, but they grope uselessly in the air around him instead, unsure of what to do.]
Um... Okay! If you're sure, then...
[Then... they can kiss. The aperture of each pupil constricts, honing in on Cas. Self-consciously piano teeth clack together tightly, like he couldn't do wrong if he kept his mouth closed, even while he salivated at the floral, sweet scent of the Terra-type beneath his cloak.
When Lyle finally touches Cassius, it's with utmost gentleness. He draws him back somewhat, pulling him away from that larger, more threatening maw. He stoops lower to close distance between them, curtain still draped around his head. Simpering, he lets go of Cassius's shoulders; his hands flail in the air, uncertain what to do with them.]
Um... M-Maybe it's better that we not... n-not think of it like human affection? Since neither of us are human, and we'll b-both be clumsy at it anyway. [He licks his lips; he's nervous about KISSIN.] It could be, um, w-whatever! Whatever we want!
no subject
At Lyle's suggestion, surprise flickers across Cas’ face, a string of microexpressions that melt into something warmer, fonder once the words sink in. To think of it not as human affections, but monstrous ones… it’s something that had never occurred to him, not really. He's spent so long trying to adapt to human rules and comforts that he'd naturally thought Lyle would follow them as well. To hear that he'd rather not…
It's… nice. Not having to worry about it is nice.]
I think I would like that, yes. [A softer tone for a softer look, one given from under his lashes, extra kissable, extra twinky.] For it to be what we wish it to be.
[They… might be talking about different things here. It's fine. More importantly -
Lyle's hands don't flail for long, Cassius doesn't let them. His Kissing Eli Experience has him carefully catching them out of the air and guiding them to his cheeks, hoping to… ground him, maybe. Reassurance that, yes, Cas still wants this, please believe him. Plus, his Eli likes to hold his face when he kisses. Maybe Lyle would like it, too. (If not, well. Cassius’ grip isn't very firm for a reason.)
He leans in a little, ready for his promised smooch. Eager, even, if his still open eyes are anything to go by. Not gonna get away with Lens KissingTM him this time, Lyle. Only proper mouth smooches here.]
no subject
His very many eyes are good for measuring the minutia of expressions, as they twitch upon Cassius's features so slightly, softly. ... Did Lyle think of his own suggestion as embracing being more monstrous? After a fashion, yes. He couldn't be human anymore, and even looking back... he felt more like an other, unable to fully integrate with society save for distant yearning. It wasn't easy to be human when he'd only ever watched humans do human things. Emulating them wasn't simple.
So twinky. Lyle is impossibly stunned by his delicate features, inviting and nonthreatening. He wonders if... this shell of Cassius's was designed to appeal to humans, then.]
Yeah... That sounds nice.
[And he means it, a breathless sentiment. --His hands are drawn to press to Cas's cheeks. His clammy, unpleasant hands and newly sharpened claws. He leaves them there, maw agape in surprise; Cassius leans.
It's time. For kiss. Lyle isn't sure he's 100% ready for smooching... but even while he felt nervous enough to vomit, he also felt longing. A strange cocktail, as Cassius keeps his eyes on him to monitor him.
His feet click against the floor, body stuttering mechanically. ...One thing he manages of his own is the draw of a sharp claw, tracing over Cassius's brow... a muted guilt pangs in him, as though he were stealing something he had no right to. Of course, when did guilt ever stop Lyle?
It's with that feeling churning in him that he stoops the rest of the way, sprockets stuttering and joints grinding that he... tries to purse his lips. Tries to kiss, to form the rubbery gasket-like material of his new features into something kissable. And though he doesn't keep his eyes wide open, he can't help wanting to... watch. Lenses only curtained by his shutters, he tries to match their lips. But aside from pressing tentatively to Cas, Lyle finds himself... buffering.]
no subject
For Lyle, kissing Cas is… an experience. There isn't warmth to his mouth like a human would have, and it has more give to it, too, easily forming to fit Lyle's less than human features. Like the rest of him, there's movement to his kiss, a squirm behind his lips fueled by tiny, greedy bodies. But what Cas lacks in normalcy, he more than makes up with enthusiasm; where Lyle falters, Cas presses forward, slanting his mouth slightly, joy thrumming through him at the contact.
And all through this, eye contact, lids hooding in a mirror of Lyle's own, but no less watchful for it. He wants to see Lyle's reaction just as much as Lyle is interested in his own.
Confident that Lyle's hands will stay put, Cas lets one of them go to do what he'd intended to the first time: cup Lyle's cheek. His touch is light as his fingers slip into that space between Lyle's skin and the sheet he wears, lighter still as his palm finds a home.
For a moment, it seems like Cassius is just content with this. Content with just pressing mouths and sharing affection.
Unfortunately for Lyle, Eli is… a confident kisser. A good one. A tongue and teeth and then some kind of kisser. And Cas has … well. Learned everything about kissing from Eli. He's clumsier at it, sure, but that freight train confidence is there, and -
Yup. There it is. There's his tongue, running along the seam of Lyle's mouth. There's the hint of teeth at his lip.
Yeah, uh. Have some more buffer for your buffer, Lyle.]
no subject
–Back up a little. How could Lyle know anything about the texture of a kiss when all he's ever known is the sensation of Sam pressed to his lens? He isn't sure what to expect... But he's spent the greater portion of his life as a human, and knows that Cas is registering as colder than he ought to be. Or at least, colder than a human ought to be? Inwardly he corrects himself. After all, the temp startled him. He'd momentarily wondered if Cassius was alright...
He doesn't have much space to wonder things. He has only Cassius, here, kissing him, and... enjoying it. Cas is enjoying it? (Lyle wonders if he's fooling himself.) He isn't sure what to do with his mouth; they're pressed together, and Cassius isn't showing any indication of parting, so...
Lyle's second mouth doesn't have a voice box. He can't form sounds with that massive maw, but it sloppily parts its lips with a click of its tongue, taken aback by Cassius's boldness, swiping at Lyle's lips for a taste of him. Already and he feels lightheaded. Is that normal for a kiss? Should he have gulped down a breath of air first?? Because no, he didn't want to stop him, not while his heart pointed and his abdomen throbbed with it–
The gentle touch of hands on his face, the feeling of Cassius between his own palms... Dizzily, Lyle groans and unceremoniously parts from Cassius, unfocused and bleary. But he doesn't go far, gasping for air.]
Oh no, I m... I'm sorry, I messed it up... [It's all he can manage, expression drawn into desperate want.
... That was pretty much a french kiss. Oh, good. And he messed it up. (He can't help it when his next thought is to wonder if Sam would ever kiss him like this. Or could he... watch him kiss like this? Not someone else, no. Just... Kissing a non-person. An observer. Kissing Lyle, where he could watch it.
(Sam kissing Cassius–) (Could he stomach it? Either of them kissing someone else?) (He wonders how much Cas kisses like this, and feels guilt once again for wanting his attention at all--))]
no subject
(He does not consider the giant mouth taking up Lyle's lower half when coming to this conclusion; Cassius is familiar enough with monstrous anatomy to know not to assume, especially when his own mouth is… mostly for aesthetic and kissing.)
At the apology, Cassius shakes his head.]
You did not mess it up, friend Lyle. It is not your fault that I had forgotten you breathe through your mouth. [Too tunnel-visioned, maybe, but can you really blame him when his prize was right there within smooching distance??
With patient contentment, he adds:] You may catch your breath before we go again. I do not mind waiting.
[Said like he hadn't even considered that Lyle might not care for a round two. His hands pull back to tuck against his chest, quietly eager to reach for Lyle's cheeks again.]