openmisc | Kent/Feldspar

"Yeah, and you weren't anything but a flea on its ass." He lets the flutter in his chest take him over for now. He's been feeling it for a long time. He's been feeling it worse when Feldspar's been gone. And he's been here for months and months, learning and being accepted and integrating here as easily as he can.

It's not such a hard leap to realize that he'd fallen for one of them.

He doesn't know, though, if the feeling is mutual.

He leads him down to the cabin and opens the door, revealing a record player in the middle of the main room.

Kent’s got a helpful bank of all sorts of delightful sayings - ‘but a flea on its ass’ is going directly into their own vocabulary.

They keep talking about the islands the heavy gravity, the ruins they saw, the raging cyclones. There’s a big ocean that hasn’t been touched yet, and that’d be the next mission. But they shut up very suddenly when they see the device in the middle of the room, the product of months of work for Kent.

“Woah! You finished it! It’s…it’s so nice.” They let go of Kent in favor of looking over the machine, all slick and well-designed. “Now are you going to finally tell me what’s in the case?”

The islands are fascinating, the ocean below even more. But there's always going to be another story. Another adventure. And Kent is here to hear them all.

He nods. "I am."

He takes out the briefcase and opens it, revealing a large, golden disc that he pulls from a black sleeve.

"This is a record."

He feels the edges of the disc and places it on the player. "Ellie and I put the photos of the world in the books, but this is the sounds."

Feldspar thinks they’re starting to understand. “And this device is going to play the recording!”

They whistle, low and impressed. All the sounds of his world - no wonder he spent so long working on this.

"Exactly."

He starts to set it up. "We sent one into space decades ago with the hopes that someone would find it and pick it up. But this is specifically for me to show others directly."

He starts the first bit, which is just the sound of different greetings in different languages.

"That's all the languages we have. Native speakers."

It’s overwhelming, actually, hearing all the various languages of just one single planet. “And they’re all just saying hello?”

Woah.

Feldspar finds a chair and pulls it up to the record player.

“That’s a smart idea though, having something like this and sending it out into space.” The odds are astronomically small that it would ever reach anyone, but still, good idea.

"We do what we can," he says with a smile, then reaches over, knocking the needle up a little more. He takes him through different animal sounds and binary code and then, at the end, there's music. Each song, classical and pop, is played through.

Kent just listens, a tear streaming down his face. It's a happy thing, a happy tear. He's just glad to hear music.

The music is particularly moving. Some of the songs sound familiar, as though they could easily replicate them around the fire, but some are so strange and other-worldly that Feldspar can’t help but sit in awe.

Every time they turn to say something they catch the expression on Kent’s face and quickly shut themselves back up. This is a moment, and it’s important for Kent.

There’s a song with a harmonica and Feldspar finds themselves laughing softly. Not so strange after all. They get up and sit down on the floor beside Kent’s legs, laying their head against their thigh.

“Thanks for this.”

Kent brushes his cheek and reaches down to place a hand on Feldspar's shoulder.

"I wanted you to be the first to hear it."

He stands up and replays the record, starting with the songs again. There's no ache of missing out, no fear of what comes next. He's finally, finally at peace.

"Remember when we danced in the ship?"

They sit up as Kent restarts the record. Kent seems…well, lighter. Like some of the weight on their shoulders has been lifted.

“Of course I remember.”

It’d been one of the best moments of their life so far, right up with landing on the moon and seeing their ship for the first time.

He sets the stick aside and holds out a hand to them. "Then let's do it with some proper music. What do you say?"

He just wants to be close to him, but a waltz sounds very good.

A dance. A dance means more closeness. A dance means more ill-advised closeness with a friend who makes their heart beat like crazy.

“Yeah,” they grin, jumping to their feet and grabbing both of Kent’s hands. “Let’s take a spin!”

Kent takes their hands and laughs, improvising some steps as he twirls them around.

"I never took a single dance lesson in my life."

Their not much for dancing usually, but it’s different with Kent. Things are always different with Kent.

“That’s not really a thing here, we just dance and hope we don’t smash each other’s toes.”

Feldspar gives Kent a spin, and then another, dragging him close to do a little twirl together.

Kent chuckles, and it feels nice and warm and safe. "Yeah? That sounds more fun than stuffy ballroom dances."

He pulls them closer, but does end up tripping on his feet and tumbling to the ground.

Down Kent goes, and down Feldspar goes right along with him. They sprawl over him, limbs spread out on either side of his head to keep himself from outright falling on top of him.

Kent laughs, leaning back and cackling like he's a child again. "Oh my god," he laughs. "I'm sorry. Did I step on you?" He reaches up, a hand on Feldspar's face.

“No, but you pulled me down!” Feldspar huffs, growling slightly against Kent’s hand. “You did that on purpose!”

He snickers. "Maybe I did." He lets out a breath. "Maybe I just wanted you a little closer."

“You know I don’t mind being close, you just need to ask.”

Although a big stunt in order to get someone a little closer definitely sounds like a move in the Feldspar Wheelhouse.

They laugh a little and attempt to move their nether regions off of Kent, which just results in pushing their face further into his hand. Kent’s thumb brushes against their lips and they smile, so wide they know Kent can feel it.

Kent breathes in again, just trying to get the butterflies out of his chest.

"Felds," he says softer, sinking into the ground. "If I actually planned this, you know I'd be smoother. I took this out of your playbook."

He rests his head back. "Fuck...I am so out of my depth here."

They watch Kent look equally as flustered and their heart thuds wildly against their chest. Did he…were they….

Who are they kidding, they’re out of their depth too, but they know what they want, and it seems Kent feels the same way. They can feel their heart beating underneath them.

“Dunno, depends on the outcome.”

They reach down and push his hair away from his face.

Kent takes a moment, a long moment, to simply enjoy the weight of them, the feel of them, and then he sits up. He's not an impulsive person. He never has been. But he knows when to take risks.

This is a risk he wants. He presses a soft kiss to the side of his mouth.

They’ve wanted it, ever since that dance in space they’ve wanted exactly this. The rush is just like pressing the ignition on the ship for the first time, but even more intense, like being shocked or burned or struck but in the best way.

They turn their head, Kent’s lips sliding up to the front and center of theirs. They try to remember what it was like to kiss - it’d been ages, since they were a hatchling kissing everything that moved - and part their lips.

Kent slides an arm around their neck, looping it there casually rather than pulling them down, and parts his lips for them.

He doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, only that he knows they have kissing because they've talked about it. And - because this is very, very good.

He's lost his fucking mind.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject