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[incorrigibles]

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[coolerjunpei]

[Oh, and that's nice, and Junpei wouldn't mind staying just like this for a while yet. Charles' fingers in his hair make it much easier to think this is just a normal day, without all of the tension of people yelling at each other online, without the big decisions to be made, just a normal day for a normal—normal pair of platonic friends.

Sure.

He'll get there. Charles' decision to go off to the terminals both doesn't surprise him at all and makes his heart sink, just a bit. He doesn't say anything for a moment, letting it sink in, then,]

That figures. I mean, yeah, of course you would. [Even after the way people treated him on the network, of course he's going to help—] You're too good, you know.

[Far too good, so is it any wonder Junpei has gotten so attached? He isn't going fucking anywhere; he's tired of making big decisions and having to decide the fate of the world, so he's going to sit right here and hold onto Gab and... just sit here, he supposes. But Charles is good and dedicated and loyal, and Junpei couldn't possibly begrudge him for helping, no matter how many people have written him off as not "counting" by virtue of being a ghost.

But he's still not starting slapfights online, so. Mmph.]

Just, uh, before you go, come say bye, okay? [He's going to worry, but he'd like to worry with as much information as possible, if he can-] How long do you think it'll take?

[incorrigibles]

[ he can't help it, the soft exhale of relief — he'd feared two things equally, junpei objecting to him going, and insisting on coming, too... and yet he does neither, his words those of quiet acceptance, and charles allows himself a second or two to think of just how bloody lucky he is, that junpei would simply understand his reasons without him having to spell them out —

and then he's shaking his head, because too good? him? hah. yeah, right. that's the only thing he does to object to those words, though; this isn't the moment, not now, as little as he believes them... but maybe it's okay that junpei believes them for him. ]

Hey, yeah. Of course I will. [ he says this like it's a foregone conclusion — like there's no world where he doesn't come see him before leaving. ]

Not sure. Depends on where I get sent, I guess. If it's outside Aldrip... it's a couple days to get there, and then however long it takes for everyone to get to the terminals. [ two, three days, perhaps, then — it's his best guess, in any case. and that's not taking into account whatever is out there.

but he doesn't want to think about all the ways things can go wrong, out there, not yet. his arm tightens around junpei and he sighs, his other hand resuming its motion of running through his hair. ]

Junpei, [ and there's really no need for charles to say his name, except for wanting to — and god if his voice isn't making a gold medal effort of balancing tiredness with tenderness, there, ] Think we could... stay like this? Just for a minute.

[ because just for a while (a minute, yes, or two, or however long he is afforded), he doesn't want to think — doesn't want to look at the messages waiting for him on his phone, doesn't want to think about the terminals, or the world slowly dying around them, or anything that exists outside of the two of them, here with each other, gab snoring away in charles' lap.

because just for a while, he wants to pretend nothing else matters but them. ]

this 🎀 is the gayest yet

[coolerjunpei]

[More uncertainty, then, in the number of days; Junpei supposes he'll resign himself to a couple days of sulking about it, and sitting on his hands every time he wants to text Charles and see if he's alright out there. Much as he's strongly not getting involved, he doesn't want to jeopardize whatever's going to happen out there by being needy in people's texts.

So it'll be fine. Probably. He'll have stress-named every cabinet in the house by the time Charles is done out there, most likely, and Gab will absolutely be sick of him. It'll be fine. He hopes it will, anyway, in a fresh wave of both fondness and dread as Charles runs fingers through his hair once more. It's that small motion of all things that makes the bottom drop out of his stomach for fear of losing it.

Could they stay like this? He wants nothing more, the shape of it wrapping around his heart and clawing at the back of his throat, a prickling tightness, and maybe he should say something about what he feels— Maybe this is the last chance, or maybe it isn't, or maybe saying something right now would be a complication when Charles has already committed to going off and doing his heroics, or...

Well. It's too much to think about. He makes a soft noise and shifts slightly, to wiggle an arm around Charles' back and reach for Gab with the other, to give him a little scritch while the dog snuffles in his sleep.]

Yeah. Nowhere else I'd rather be.