[he glances back at him, struggling for a moment with the implications there. It doesn’t occur to him that Griffin wanted special— but without the romance. A singular focus. Because Jay assumes most of the time, it’s just a fling. That’s how he and Silk started, though definitely not what they were now]
The prude can relax. I don’t like kissing and telling. Even if this is the only time this ever happens. I’ll still fight you whenever you want...
Not like anyone else pushes me.
[he shrugs.]
Just... like you said, I’m... really bad at controlling my impulses.
[Maybe pathetically, Griffin's eyes brighten when Jay tells him he's the only one to push him. It's the look of a kid who'd never been told he was good enough, finally being acknowledged by someone they respected. For a moment it looks like his heart's in his throat and he has to swallow, hard.
It's so transparent, but that was enough to make him feel special. And he relaxes against Jay immediately - with a small smile, despite trying to play it cool.]
[he doesn’t know what he expected— but it wasn’t that. He looks down at Griffin, and he seems to be working through what just happened. It hits him that maybe he just misunderstood. Or maybe he said something that changed Griffin’s mind. Both could have worked, since he knows Griffin tends to have a one track mind.]
For a prude... yeah. I had fun.
[he then glances back up.]
You’re probably not gonna turn into a degenerate like me. Just so you know.
[Grumbles,] That prude is there 'cause I was raised in a town of hypocrites who'd look down at the less fortunate just to make themselves feel righteous. I'm not exactly happy they managed t'plant their shitty outlook in me.
[He tries to get up but-- winces and stumbles. God, his ass aches like nothing he's ever felt before. He has to get a Feint to fish around in his pants for his phone.]
[Griffin would've pointed out that he could make his own, but. All the same, the gesture's appreciated. He catches the knife out of the air and twirls it, before holding it up to appraise the blade.
Then, he eyes the scratches all over Jay's torso.]
[what part of “your swords are off limits” does griffin not understand!! That didn’t change because sex was over!!]
Eh, I’ve had worse.
[honestly, his entire body is a mess of scars, prominently burn scars, but there are very definitely faded battle scars underneath the new wounds from griffin. And even some newer scars griffin might recognize! Because he gave them to him.
He has definitely fought a lot in his life— and hasn’t always gotten off easy.
[He eyes the scars for a moment longer. The burns are a surprise, but the rest less so. Comparatively, Griffin has less from his own storied history, (apart from the missing arm,) and all his freshest are from Games.]
...Thanks.
[Then he jabs himself in the gut with the dagger in one swift motion, minimizing splatter. He pulls it out, and gets up to wipe the blood off on his already ruined shirt.]
[The Feint throws him the phone, and Griffin starts texting with-- actually an anxious expression on his face. He knows he got carried away, and all this was... it didn't feel like a mistake, not in his blood?
But it paled in importance to Shrike.
She was understanding, and... maybe this would stretch the limits of that. All he could do was be honest with her. Otherwise, that really would be degeneracy.]
[Sorry, Griffin's still having an emotional meltdown over how much he loves his girlfriend. His eyes are glistening and he's rereading her texts to him over and over, utterly moved each time.
When Jay comes over he just buries his head in his arms and. Has to take deep breaths.]
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[he glances back at him, struggling for a moment with the implications there. It doesn’t occur to him that Griffin wanted special— but without the romance. A singular focus. Because Jay assumes most of the time, it’s just a fling. That’s how he and Silk started, though definitely not what they were now]
The prude can relax. I don’t like kissing and telling. Even if this is the only time this ever happens. I’ll still fight you whenever you want...
Not like anyone else pushes me.
[he shrugs.]
Just... like you said, I’m... really bad at controlling my impulses.
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It's so transparent, but that was enough to make him feel special. And he relaxes against Jay immediately - with a small smile, despite trying to play it cool.]
Whatever. As long as it was-- good.
[it was good, right, tell him it was good]
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For a prude... yeah. I had fun.
[he then glances back up.]
You’re probably not gonna turn into a degenerate like me. Just so you know.
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[He's still smiling though, despite himself. Idly he traces the claw marks down the front of Jay's chest with a feeling of satisfaction.]
...We'll see if you can still say that on the rematch.
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Not impossible, but really not necessary.
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As if. You're just a jerk, not a degenerate.
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[he reaches down and lightly flicks some of griffin's hair.]
You've got the guilt over sleeping with me. You gotta make sure I know this isn't normal for you.
Meanwhile, I've definitely fucked people here and felt not a god damned thing about it.
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I'd rather be degenerate than be like them.
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Just pointing that out.
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You should figure out what the hell you wanna be, not just try to out do whatever the hell it is I'm doing.
1/2
[Let that sit for a beat.]
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Shit I have to text Shrike--!
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[He tries to get up but-- winces and stumbles. God, his ass aches like nothing he's ever felt before. He has to get a Feint to fish around in his pants for his phone.]
Ngh...
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Here.
Sorry about that.
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Then, he eyes the scratches all over Jay's torso.]
Feels like that should be my line.
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Eh, I’ve had worse.
[honestly, his entire body is a mess of scars, prominently burn scars, but there are very definitely faded battle scars underneath the new wounds from griffin. And even some newer scars griffin might recognize! Because he gave them to him.
He has definitely fought a lot in his life— and hasn’t always gotten off easy.
But now he needs to find his phone.
To order pizza.
Because he’s hungry.]
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[He eyes the scars for a moment longer. The burns are a surprise, but the rest less so. Comparatively, Griffin has less from his own storied history, (apart from the missing arm,) and all his freshest are from Games.]
...Thanks.
[Then he jabs himself in the gut with the dagger in one swift motion, minimizing splatter. He pulls it out, and gets up to wipe the blood off on his already ruined shirt.]
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No problem. Now text your girlfriend, I’m going to shower and spare myself.
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[The Feint throws him the phone, and Griffin starts texting with-- actually an anxious expression on his face. He knows he got carried away, and all this was... it didn't feel like a mistake, not in his blood?
But it paled in importance to Shrike.
She was understanding, and... maybe this would stretch the limits of that. All he could do was be honest with her. Otherwise, that really would be degeneracy.]
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it's a good 30 minutes later that he comes back, tossing the new clothes onto the lower platform couch, because he knows his bed isn't safe.]
Gotcha some clothes, and shower's open now.
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When Jay comes over he just buries his head in his arms and. Has to take deep breaths.]
...
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