[Sampo lays in his serviceable but plain bed that night-- the same bed that Gepard had slept in not that long ago-- and stares at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about blond guard captains and the mess that he'd gotten himself into with one. Especially because he'd promised that he'd feed Gepard breakfast, lunch and dinner, three aeons-damned square meals a day, and now he has to figure out how he's going to get breakfast to him tomorrow morning without it being super weird. Without a boner-shaped elephant in the room.]
[He has no answer that night, nor the following morning, when he wakes up at stupid o'clock because Gepard is the kind of man who also wakes at stupid o'clock.]
[He does, indeed, make breakfast. Eggs, bacon, some really nice crusty sourdough bread that he toasts up in the excess bacon fat until it's nice and crispy, packed away in the same thermal lunchbox that he'd used to bring Gepard his fried olm sandwich. Brews up some coffee and pours it into an insulated flask to keep warm. Gepard probably has coffee at his place, especially since he's supposed to be on medical leave today, but hey. He's supposed to be providing the whole meal, right?]
[Sampo gets into Gepard's apartment by the same way he left it-- the window. It's still unlocked, probably because Gepard wouldn't have thought to check it before he went to bed, because who thinks to check a third story window anyway?]
[The plan is to just leave the food on the table for whenever Gepard comes out for breakfast, and maybe text him later to see if he actually still wanted him around for his day off, like he'd said yesterday. In case the... awkwardness of last night changed his mind on that.]
[He'd slept in. He hadn't meant to, but he had slept in. Apparently, he was more tired than he had thought, what with...work, the blood-sucking stranger going around gnawing on necks, the exhaustion that came with chasing a climax that took fucking forever to come, the mortification of knowing that the guy he might have kind of sort of liked a bit had to see him deal with a boner-
It's been a day! It's been an exhausting few days, really, and last night was very exhausting, and Gepard had a nightmare - nothing new, but also new, which meant that he slept in.
So, he gets up.
He takes off his shirt. He takes off his pants. Yawning, Gepard decides that he's going to actually probably want some (terrible) coffee from his coffee machine, which means walking into the kitchen and starting that, but at this point he can't be arsed to put on clothes just yet so he wraps his comforter around his body like he's a wizened old king standing on ramparts and staring out into his kingdom, lost in thought.
Gepard trudges.
It takes him a few minutes to process that he's not alone. Blame it on...everything that's happened. He had 200 forms he had to go through last week - blame it on that. But he enters his kitchen, blanket clutched about him, and it takes him a moment to place the figure in there, and another moment to realize what he's here to do, and then Gepard yelps in a way that very few people had heard him yelp. Loud. Gets attention. Solid yelp, yelps like a pro.]
[The dishes are still in the sink from last night-- so much for cleaning up-- so Sampo gets a start on those, since it seems like Gepard's still in bed. He's finishing up, just putting the clean pan on the rack to dry, when he hears the first sounds of life from Gepard's bedroom and the sound of shuffling footsteps coming down the hall.]
[The footsteps are heavy, as though their owner is burdened by a great weight. Or like he really doesn't want to be conscious right now. Big mood, right?]
[The shuffling enters the kitchen, probably in search of the coffee. Sampo has the thermos sitting on the counter next to him, so he takes a mug down from the cabinet and starts pouring--]
!!
[Only to nearly drop the whole mug when Gepard lets out a startled yelp that could've woken the neighbors. Sampo succeeds at saving the mug but does slop a bit of it over the rim and onto the counter. He turns, mug still in hand, only to see the good Captain wrapped up in his own comforter like a Silvermane burrito.]
[He was going to be annoyed, because who goes around yelling when the guy who said he'd deliver your breakfast actually delivers your breakfast? But then he saw Comforter King Gepard and it's just. He looks so disheveled and ridiculous that he's really having a hard time being mad about nearly having a heart attack and spilling some coffee. How can he be mad at someone who's basically a walking mound of down comforter?]
[He stares at Figaro. A bit wide-eyed, just drinking in the sight of him at his counter. Gepard wishes he hadn't taken off his shirt, his pants, but to retreat might mean losing the moment, or, worse Figaro (what is his name, what is his name) leaving in the meantime.]
Thank you. [He breathes it out, and then shakes his head, just- he has to focus. Words (at least when it came to interpersonal things, not work, when it came to feelings) had never been his strong suit, but he had to try to muddle his way through.
But he can face this. He faced monsters trying to eat his head. This is nothing by comparison. He doesn't move, in part because he's...fucking nude underneath the comforter, and in part because, well.]
I didn't think you would come back. I would've found another way to help you if you didn't- don't want to see me again, and I wouldn't blame you after last night. [Well, because that.] I'm sorry for what happened.
[Sampo just has to stand there with the cup of coffee while Gepard bumbles his way through an unexpected apology, since he's apparently felt bad about what happened last night. And while Sampo did lay awake thinking about Gepard and his inopportune boner, it was mostly because of the existential crisis that is finding out that biting people makes them feel good whether they want it or not.]
[Well, hopefully the guy was able to close his eyes and think of somebody that he wanted until he sorted himself out. Bronya or whatever other pretty, upstanding lady caught his eye.]
Don't worry about it! What's an awkward boner or two between... friends?
[He holds the coffee out for him. Take it, Comforter King, drink the bean elixir of life.] Anyway, I should be apologizing to you! If I'd known it would be like that, I would've warned you.
It's all [he makes a sweeping gesture] water under the bridge, right? I made breakfast for you, anyway, so I'm at least not leaving 'til you've gotten it.
[...friends isn't the worst thing to be. They're not exactly friends (there's too much he doesn't know) but they could be friends, and given Figaro's...difficulties, he can take comfort in being someone that Figaro can turn to. As a friend.
So. Gepard adjusts his grip on his comforter to a one-handed clutch around his waist, so he can take the drink with his other hand without flashing anything below the belt at Figaro, in the process unintentionally confirming (if Figaro was wondering, but he probably wasn't) that he's not wearing a shirt at the moment. It doesn't matter. Many people have seen him change and no one cares, Figaro included, probably.
...but, that said, that still didn't mean he should just flash Figaro. Even if Figaro didn't care in that way, that doesn't mean he wants to see random cock-and-balls. Far from, in fact.
He should retreat to put on pants, and Gepard will in a second. First things first: the bean elixir of life. Gepard smells it, savors it, closes his eyes and then takes a slow sip.]
It's good. Better than what my coffee maker can make. [His eyes open again.]
Let me go change. I wasn't expecting company, so I'm not exactly decent beneath, well. [He shrugs.] This. [The comforter, his shroud.] I'll be back.
[And he's trundling off to put on some pants, holding his comforter-skirt in one hand, and the coffee in the other.]
[It's certainly intriguing to know that the good Captain isn't wearing a stitch under that comforter, but, well. As last night's disastrous events revealed, Gepard isn't interested in Sampo in the non-platonic fashion, so there's no reason for Sampo to dwell too much on what he's hiding under there. It's not for him! It's for some lucky lady someday, who'll get to have the Captain and his undoubtedly handsome and strong body for herself. Pop out a few sweet blond Landau babies and live happily ever after and all that rot.]
[Gepard closes his eyes when he takes a sip of coffee, savoring it like it really is the elixir of life. It really isn't fair that he's handsome.]
Sure, go ahead. I'll get breakfast set out.
[So while Gepard shuffles off to go put on a decent amount of clothing, Sampo sets out his breakfast for him, plates it up on his own dishes so that he doesn't have to eat it out of to-go containers. Two eggs over-easy, served on the crusty fried toast with a plentiful side of bacon. If Belobog weren't an iceball of a planet, he would have added some avocado to the toast, maybe poured him a glass of orange juice for the vitamin C. But citrus and avocados are unheard of in Belobog's post-Eternal Freeze, if they ever existed here even before that. One day, maybe Sampo could--]
[What's he thinking? Nothing important.]
[When Gepard returns, presumably fully clothed, he'll have a curious Sampo poking around a little of his apartment-- maybe taking a look at his windowsills, and the pots that line them.]
[He waddles into his bedroom, and puts the mug of coffee on a table, and shuts the door, and promptly has a little bit of a panic attack. Not a big panic attack. It's not really substantial, but Gepard, at this point, realizes two things:
1. He's not really sure about the etiquette for what to wear when you have a...platonic friend/ally in your apartment, and said man just learned you were nude beneath your comforter. Does he dress up? Dress down? Dress like he'll head out after breakfast? Dress like he's going to stay in?
2. And he doesn't own much besides Silvermane uniforms to wear...he does have clothes which aren't that. But not much. He wishes he could corner Serval and demand help, except he doesn't because she'd get the wrong idea, and make things worse, and he doesn't have time, and-
He puts on a sweater. He puts on pants. It's very plain. He glances at a mirror and immediately regrets the fact that he's not fashionable, and then Gepard reminds himself that they're platonic and he wouldn't know the first thing about looking good for someone, let alone a mysterious someone, and- he picks up the coffee mug, takes another bracing drink, and heads out again. The food's plated, it smells delicious, and Figaro (what is his name, what is his name) is looking at some sad pots and Gepard winces.]
I know. [They're not all dead, but some of them are, and he's putting his best effort into keeping the ones which are struggling alive, but...they're struggling. In fact, Gepard walks over so he can look over Figaro's shoulder, and...
Gepard winces again. It's a struggler Figaro's looking at. At least it's probably not dead yet?] I'm not very good at keeping plants alive.
[Sampo is none the wiser about Gepard's minor panic attack in his room over the dress code for a pre-situationship. Blissfully unaware of the anxiety that he's causing in this one man whom he thinks is completely and entirely heterosexual.]
[When Gepard emerges, dressed like a very normal albeit slightly boring citizen of Belobog, Sampo's in the middle of examining one of his very sad and distressed plants. It's... probably still alive, there seems to be a little bit of green left in the few leaves that sadly cling to it. Once, it was probably green and healthy, and now it's a very scraggly, patchy looking thing. Probably got depressed after watching all of its neighbors slowly wilt into nothing.]
Yeah, I can tell. [No one's going to be asking Gepard for horticultural advice, that's for sure.] These ones are definitely struggling.
[He tries to lift one of the leaves to look at the soil underneath, but it just kind of... pops off. He just sets it down in the pot.]
Is it supposed to be so wet under there?
[Sampo really doesn't know much about keeping plants, but like. The soil maybe shouldn't be so soggy?]
Anyway, breakfast is ready if you want it, and there's more coffee.
[Don't worry, Gepard, he won't dwell on your floral failures. So what if he sucks at growing plants? He's a grown man, he can decide for himself if he wants to waste his money buying something that he's just going to kill in a month. That's his prerogative, and at least it doesn't hurt anything except the plants. And their opinions on the matter clearly aren't a factor here.]
I can head out, if you don't want me sticking around.
[The leaf pops off. He ever so slightly cringes. Gepard reaches out to the leaf, hesitates, and then balls his hand into a fist, and then loosens it again. Gepard's not feeling very heterosexual at the moment. Worse, he's feeling vaguely targeted, like he's being called out, and he knows it's probably unintentional, but feelings don't listen to things like intentions.
Is it supposed to be so wet under there? He answers that with a noise, a vaguely confused one: he killed his last plant via under-watering it, so he went in the opposite direction and seems to just be finding new and inventive ways of killing a plant.
Breakfast is there? Good, but then at the...suggestion? Invitation? Whatever it is, Gepard's gaze shoots from the plants to Figaro (he needs to find out his name) and he tries very hard to not react to what it was Figaro said in a weird way, and in the process accidentally gives him some puppy dog eyes.]
I won't ask you to stay if you have something else you need to do, or would prefer doing, but... [Why is this so embarrassing to admit- Gepard's gaze drops from Figaro and his stupid green eyes, to his withered and far less green plant.] I enjoy the company. It's been a while since I ate with other people. But it must be boring for you.
[Who would have thought that the Captain of the Silvermane guard, the savior of Belobog, would be able to turn those pretty blue eyes on Sampo and flash him the saddest little look? Like puppy dog eyes, like the mere prospect of Sampo leaving is a terrible thing. Sampo Koski is many things, but even he'd have a hard time saying no to those eyes.]
[So! It seems like he'll be staying for a while, because he's a sucker for a handsome man.]
When you ask so nicely, how can I refuse?
[Come on, Gepard-- Sampo hooks an arm around Gepard's, leading him away from his disastrous gardening attempts and back towards his breakfast. You have to eat it before it gets cold, Sampo didn't spend his morning slaving over a hot stove just for you to eat cold bacon and eggs.]
What are your plans for the day, Captain? Since you've got it all to yourself!
[He leads him over to where his breakfast is plated out. Be a good boy and eat, Sampo will refill your coffee for you. Just like a good little wifey would, or, at least, a good vampire man that's agreed to make sure you get three square meals a day.]
[An arm is hooked around his own. Gepard leans into the touch. He can't help it. He tries to not make it weird or obvious, in fact, tries to resist leaning into it; he does so anyway, in the same way a cat would hesitantly curl up around a person that it was still undecided about. Like that.
...ignore the blush. Food's a good enough distraction, anyway.
He's led to the table, and he sits, and there's bacon and eggs and the food looks good. Very good. His stomach gurgles. Gurgle. The blush might be harder to ignore.]
...I haven't really thought about it. [Eating breakfast is normal. He's eating breakfast. Chewing, biting, swallowing.]
In all honesty, if you hadn't surprised me, I might have ended up at work anyway. [It's more than a bit embarrassing to admit. Don't point it out, please. He needs to pretend like he's a functional adult with a functional range of functional hobbies and a healthy work-life balance in order to carry on.
...sigh.] There's just so much to do and not enough hands to do them. To be honest, sitting while others are taking up my work feels...wrong, and it hasn't even been a day. I know.
[It probably isn't all that surprising that Gepard would've just gone right into work if he hadn't been interrupted. Whether it's because of the force of habit or sheer stubbornness isn't immediately obvious, but Gepard's nothing if not a workaholic. Either option is equally viable.]
Wouldn't you have gotten in trouble if you'd shown up, because you're on medical leave?
[Most employers would probably frown upon their employees completely disregarding a doctor's orders, especially when said doctor's orders occurred right after a particularly troubling shift. It wouldn't have been that strange for Gepard to have been told to take a day off after being attacked and kidnapped by their mysterious assailant, just because of the stress. The fact that it was less stressful due to Sampo being the closest thing to vegan that a vampire can be is beside the point.]
You're very dedicated! I'm sure no one minds handling your duties for a day or two while you get a little rest. [Many of them might breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that the Captain had finally taken a little time for himself like a mere mortal man.] And, well, you at least know that I'm off of everyone's plate!
[No more mysterious victims waking up near geomarrow heaters with sore necks and amnesia. That also means no more time wasted on trying to find an elusive perpetrator, no more reports, no more meetings and patrol alterations. A fair bit of work cleared off of their to-do lists, all because Gepard decided to become a people-flavored Capri Sun.]
So don't feel so bad! You might be taking some time off, but it's after saving everyone some work, so doesn't it all kind of balance out?
[Figaro asks if he'd have gotten in trouble, and Gepard makes a noise. It's a vague noise, one that's muffled in some (very delicious) food, a universal sort of fuck if I know noise. Because he doesn't know. Because he's achieved this weird spot in work in which he can probably get away with a lot of things other soldiers cannot, but also does some things that, perhaps, he shouldn't. Would he get in trouble if he showed up?
It'll probably depend on what he tries to do.
...but Figaro's trying to be very convincing, and he's going to just accept it instead of trying to fight what he's saying.]
...I guess so.
[...even if he doesn't like feeling like a liability.
...moving on.]
Even so, I'm not exactly sure what to do with all this time I have. I'm not good at resting - I've gotten on the bad side of more than one doctor, actually. [Fucking impossible to keep him in a bed any longer than they gotta.]
[Well, Sampo's trying to make Gepard feel less guilty about taking a little time off, but the good Captain apparently has a very hard time accepting even that. Just go with it, pal, and don't think about the guards or the Fragmentum or any of that for a little while! It'll all still be there when you go back.]
I'm not surprised. You seem like the type to work until you drop! Or, anyway, until someone orders you to take the time off.
[Mandatory leave. Sampo wouldn't be surprised if Gepard has a long history of being forced to take time off just because he refuses to until it's entirely unavoidable. Really, if he took more breaks on a regular basis, he'd probably have fewer chunks of time that he's forced to be on leave-- the same way that a car that gets regular maintenance doesn't have to be in the shop as long as one that's driven until it falls apart.]
[There is the question, though, of what to do with Gepard's free time. Since he asked Sampo to keep him company, he feels like he ought to have at least some suggestions for how to fill the hours.]
Do you want to go to the florist's? [That's something to do, and it fits with what Gepard apparently likes, even if he's a shit gardener.] Maybe we could pick up another plant for you. Between the two of us, we might even be able to keep it alive!
[He had vague thoughts about how things would go, nothing concrete. If Figaro wanted to do something, great, they'd do it together; if Figaro didn't, he'd probably just try and fail to read a novel, being slowly bored to death. The thing with having a life that revolved around work is that, when work was taken away from Gepard, he didn't exactly have hobbies that filled in the gaps...
This isn't a good thing. Gepard knows it. That's besides the point.
...the thing is, he didn't expect that Figaro would suggest something that he liked so much. What the heck. How is he supposed to turn this into a professional relationship when Figaro up and says something like that.]
I'd like that. And I could use all the help I can get. [It's a joke! Laugh. He knows he's got a black thumb. He can mock himself.] We're also doing something you like sometime soon, today or tomorrow or...whenever you feel like it. I don't want you to feel like you just have to do things I like.
[Sometimes, Sampo has good ideas! And right now, he's pleased that Gepard's going along with his idea so easily. Why can't he be so easy to convince all of the time?]
[He even makes a joke! The good Captain is in a particularly fine mood this morning, even though he's had to show his dead plants to his vampire acquaintance. See, this is what a good night's sleep and a break from work can do for you, Gepard, it gets you some company, a nice outing, and a better mood.]
I'll hold you to that! Maybe tomorrow we'll do something that I want to do. We'll get you set up with new plants today.
[He leans his hip against the table, casual and cavalier.]
And, hey, now you have someone to look after your plants for you while you're busy on the front lines! I can always pop in and make sure they're watered while you're away. Plant-sitting is just one of the many services that I have on offer.
[Sure, it's not that tough of a job - it's just watering plants. Gepard might have a black thumb, but he knows other people don't. But also, it's strangely...generous? It feels generous. More generous than it actually probably is. Probably.
Maybe.
But it's nice. Gepard flashes Figaro (what is his name, this is driving him nuts) a smile. A small thing. A little sheepish, maybe.]
You're cooking for me, you're helping me with my plants...if I had more room, I'd ask if you wanted to be my roommate. [...sure, roommate's a safe word. And Figaro's safe house was rather lonely. Barren. His underworld one is better, surely, or maybe he sleeps somewhere else, surely. It can't just be barren apartments with aggressively okay hot water and aggressively okay heating. He shouldn't be wondering about replacing his couch with one that has a pull-out bed.] I could clean and do the laundry in exchange for your cooking and plant-sitting. [When he's around, at least. He'd try. He'd make an effort. He'd do his best.]
But I have only one bedroom and I'm not sure about the couch, so... [So.] Maybe it's for the best.
[To be honest, there is something ever-so-slightly tempting about Gepard offering the roommates thing. He'd have a place to go that has better than aggressively mediocre amenities, the safety of living under the same roof as a relatively powerful man. But it would make it harder to run his scams literally right under the nose of the Silvermane guard captain, even if he spent decent chunks of time out of the house.]
[And there's the only one bedroom thing. While Sampo has slept on worse than a couch-- his Underworld safehouse is objectively worse and more concerning than his Overworld one-- he can get why Gepard wouldn't be comfortable with shacking him up in the living room while he sleeps in a bed. And as for splitting the bed, well. You don't share a bed with your buddies, and Gepard isn't going to be upgrading his new acquaintance to live-in fuckbuddy any time soon.]
[That's probably just called a sugar baby, actually. Might not be the worst job, being Gepard Landau's sugar baby. Sampo has heard that the Landau family is pretty much top dog on this little backwater planet, and there are worse things in life than paying for room and board with your ass. Gepard's easy on the eyes! Just also not interested in asses if they're attached to men.]
It's a generous offer! But your pal Figaro lives a bachelor's lifestyle. You'd get annoyed with me coming and going at all hours.
[So they'll stay acquaintance-friends. A perfectly fine thing for them to be! Nothing wrong with recognizing a good thing and keeping it as it is.]
This way, I only bother you when I'm sneaking into your place! [Like a stray tomcat.] You should make a habit of leaving a window open for me so I don't have to keep picking the lock.
[And at that, Gepard laughs. It's a startled little laugh, and he blinks after that noise escapes his lips because oh. Oh, he laughed. Figaro made him laugh. It's the first time in months that he laughed, and, of all the people, it was a mysterious man who drank blood (a criminal, someone he should be arresting) who surprised it out of him. He shouldn't be laughing.
But he is.]
Wouldn't it be easier for me to just give you a copy of my key? [Doesn't that make more sense?] Normally, I wouldn't even consider it. I barely even know you. I don't know your name. But you're- well. Here? It's not as if locks show any signs of stopping you. I might as well make it official.
[He takes a moment to take a drink of his coffee. (He shouldn't be happy about this. But something about how absurd everything is makes Gepard happy. It's absurd. Everything that's happening is absurd. It makes it easier to surrender to it and say things that Gepard-the-soldier shouldn't say, but Gepard-the-man can.)] But something tells me you'd prefer the challenge of a locked window to a front door and a key. Promise me that if you do decide to spend the night, you'll do your best to warn me ahead of time so I can get extra blankets for the couch.
[A laugh! It's Sampo's lucky day, he managed to get a laugh out of the stoic Captain. Gepard's face looks sweeter when he does, and he really is very handsome when he isn't being stern.]
There isn't a lock in Belobog that I can't pick. [Really, there isn't. Lock technology on this backwater planet is antiquated, stuff that's been cracked out in the wider galaxy for a few centuries. It's kind of fun, getting to pick these old styles rather than having to break through more advanced digital safeguards.] I'll try not to break any of yours!
[There will be more than one morning where Gepard will find some lock that he'd placed sitting on his kitchen table, just to let him know that it was no match for Figaro. Even if it wasn't a lock that he'd put on his house.]
I'll give you a heads up. It would be rude of me to surprise you first thing in the morning! Besides, you might hit me, and you've got a good arm on you.
[If that bottle swing when he'd tried to subdue Gepard in that back alley is any indication.]
[He tips his head at Gepard, pondering something he'd said-- a little curious gesture.]
Does it bother you that much that you don't know my name? You asked me for a fake one. [He would've given Gepard a fake one anyway, it's only sensible, but at least it wouldn't have been so out in the open.]
[One day, Gepard will find himself buying a box with an unusual lock, solely so that he can provide his...vaguely strained professional acquaintance-friend with lock enrichment, and when that happens he'll wonder about his life and his choices, where he started, what he's doing, and what he expects from surprising Figaro with a box with a weird lock. But that's in the future.
For now, Gepard lives in blissful ignorance, eating some eggs, perfectly content in being happy.
Then, Figaro asks that question, and Gepard freezes. The fork is halfway to his mouth. It indecisively hovers. Then, the captain puts it back on his plate. This is what happens when he lets down his guard. Figaro/Ringo/whatever else he might become asks a question, and Gepard's left feeling a little too seen.
But it's too late to run from the question, and he hates running, so...]
A little. [More than a little, but, a little. He can admit to a little.] But I did ask you for a fake name. I expected a fake name. I have no doubt you've committed crimes besides the ones I know about, so it would be stupid for you to give me your real name.
[And all of this makes total sense, and all of this is said in a reasonable tone of voice, and all of this is practical and is part of their arrangement. No problems here. Absolutely none.]
So it's not as if I'm...offended. [...it would be easier if he was offended, actually, anyway, fork goes up, food's shoved into his mouth, he can't talk, he's chewing.]
[One day, Sampo will find himself on the receiving end of a box with an unusual lock, bought for him because a man who should be a strained professional acquaintance-friend thought that it would interest him. He'll deal with the emotional fallout of that when he gets to it.]
[Gepard, as expected, is honest in his answers. An honest man, what a novelty. It's new to have a man who actually tells him the truth when he asks a question.]
It would be. Not that I'm confirming any crimes, mind you, but it would be silly for me to give my real name to a man who should want to arrest me.
[It's silly for him to hang around with a man who should want to arrest him, but right now, their acquaintanceship has more benefits than detriments. The arrest risk is worth having a willing juice box. Never let it be said that Sampo Koski isn't willing to risk it for the biscuit!]
[And speaking of risking it, he smiles at Gepard as a fun little idea comes into his head.]
Well, Captain, if you're not offended, how about we play a little game? [Don't you like games, Gepard? Sampo likes games.] If you can figure out my name, I'll owe you a favor. Whatever you want!
[He'll even walk himself right into a jail cell for him, fair's fair.] But if you're wrong, I get one from you.
[Figaro smiles at him; he frowns, reflexively. Instinct. He can't say he hates the idea, actually, far from, there's something about the sheer recklessness that appeals to him, of taking a favor and putting it into Figaro's hands. All for the sake of learning his name.
Gepard knows he should hate it. He really should. It's giving someone he doesn't know too much power, because he'd do his best to live up to it (at least, so long as it doesn't put the safety of Belobog in harm's way) but...
But he licks his lips, instinctively, reflexively, unconsciously.]
I have a condition before I can agree to something like that. Whatever you ask for can't harm Belobog: I can't put my duty before any games we play. [This is not a no. This is the exact opposite of a no. This is a measuring condition, said in a measuring voice. Testing the waters.]
...and wouldn't that mean I'd owe you countless favors if I constantly get it wrong?
[That answer? That answer is very definitely not a no. That's a yes in all but the most explicit terms, because Gepard is negotiating with him rather than rejecting him outright. All for the sake of learning his name! See, he knew that the good Captain could be fun, if he just had the right opportunity.]
I suppose I can agree to that! I won't ask you to abandon your duties to our fair city just for my little whims. But only for things that are a real threat! Your wounded pride doesn't count.
[There are other things that he could ask for that probably wouldn't be good for Gepard's reputation or for his pride, but also wouldn't be a direct threat to Belobog. It's still a very large leeway for him, plenty of room for him to play in.]
Of course not! That wouldn't be very fair, would it? [Sampo waggles a finger at him. Silly Captain.] You only get one shot at guessing, and if you mess it up, that's it! No name for you, and you owe me the favor. So make sure you do your homework and make it count!
[There you go, Captain-- fair's fair. Gepard can't just make endless guesses of every name in Belobog's registries until he gets a hit, and Sampo can't keep collecting favor after favor for every wrong guess.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-08 07:11 pm (UTC)[He has no answer that night, nor the following morning, when he wakes up at stupid o'clock because Gepard is the kind of man who also wakes at stupid o'clock.]
[He does, indeed, make breakfast. Eggs, bacon, some really nice crusty sourdough bread that he toasts up in the excess bacon fat until it's nice and crispy, packed away in the same thermal lunchbox that he'd used to bring Gepard his fried olm sandwich. Brews up some coffee and pours it into an insulated flask to keep warm. Gepard probably has coffee at his place, especially since he's supposed to be on medical leave today, but hey. He's supposed to be providing the whole meal, right?]
[Sampo gets into Gepard's apartment by the same way he left it-- the window. It's still unlocked, probably because Gepard wouldn't have thought to check it before he went to bed, because who thinks to check a third story window anyway?]
[The plan is to just leave the food on the table for whenever Gepard comes out for breakfast, and maybe text him later to see if he actually still wanted him around for his day off, like he'd said yesterday. In case the... awkwardness of last night changed his mind on that.]
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Date: 2024-06-08 10:05 pm (UTC)It's been a day! It's been an exhausting few days, really, and last night was very exhausting, and Gepard had a nightmare - nothing new, but also new, which meant that he slept in.
So, he gets up.
He takes off his shirt. He takes off his pants. Yawning, Gepard decides that he's going to actually probably want some (terrible) coffee from his coffee machine, which means walking into the kitchen and starting that, but at this point he can't be arsed to put on clothes just yet so he wraps his comforter around his body like he's a wizened old king standing on ramparts and staring out into his kingdom, lost in thought.
Gepard trudges.
It takes him a few minutes to process that he's not alone. Blame it on...everything that's happened. He had 200 forms he had to go through last week - blame it on that. But he enters his kitchen, blanket clutched about him, and it takes him a moment to place the figure in there, and another moment to realize what he's here to do, and then Gepard yelps in a way that very few people had heard him yelp. Loud. Gets attention. Solid yelp, yelps like a pro.]
You?
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Date: 2024-06-08 10:47 pm (UTC)[The footsteps are heavy, as though their owner is burdened by a great weight. Or like he really doesn't want to be conscious right now. Big mood, right?]
[The shuffling enters the kitchen, probably in search of the coffee. Sampo has the thermos sitting on the counter next to him, so he takes a mug down from the cabinet and starts pouring--]
!!
[Only to nearly drop the whole mug when Gepard lets out a startled yelp that could've woken the neighbors. Sampo succeeds at saving the mug but does slop a bit of it over the rim and onto the counter. He turns, mug still in hand, only to see the good Captain wrapped up in his own comforter like a Silvermane burrito.]
[He was going to be annoyed, because who goes around yelling when the guy who said he'd deliver your breakfast actually delivers your breakfast? But then he saw Comforter King Gepard and it's just. He looks so disheveled and ridiculous that he's really having a hard time being mad about nearly having a heart attack and spilling some coffee. How can he be mad at someone who's basically a walking mound of down comforter?]
I made coffee?
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Date: 2024-06-08 11:43 pm (UTC)Thank you. [He breathes it out, and then shakes his head, just- he has to focus. Words (at least when it came to interpersonal things, not work, when it came to feelings) had never been his strong suit, but he had to try to muddle his way through.
But he can face this. He faced monsters trying to eat his head. This is nothing by comparison. He doesn't move, in part because he's...fucking nude underneath the comforter, and in part because, well.]
I didn't think you would come back. I would've found another way to help you if you didn't- don't want to see me again, and I wouldn't blame you after last night. [Well, because that.] I'm sorry for what happened.
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Date: 2024-06-09 02:25 am (UTC)[Well, hopefully the guy was able to close his eyes and think of somebody that he wanted until he sorted himself out. Bronya or whatever other pretty, upstanding lady caught his eye.]
Don't worry about it! What's an awkward boner or two between... friends?
[He holds the coffee out for him. Take it, Comforter King, drink the bean elixir of life.] Anyway, I should be apologizing to you! If I'd known it would be like that, I would've warned you.
It's all [he makes a sweeping gesture] water under the bridge, right? I made breakfast for you, anyway, so I'm at least not leaving 'til you've gotten it.
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Date: 2024-06-09 05:16 am (UTC)So. Gepard adjusts his grip on his comforter to a one-handed clutch around his waist, so he can take the drink with his other hand without flashing anything below the belt at Figaro, in the process unintentionally confirming (if Figaro was wondering, but he probably wasn't) that he's not wearing a shirt at the moment. It doesn't matter. Many people have seen him change and no one cares, Figaro included, probably.
...but, that said, that still didn't mean he should just flash Figaro. Even if Figaro didn't care in that way, that doesn't mean he wants to see random cock-and-balls. Far from, in fact.
He should retreat to put on pants, and Gepard will in a second. First things first: the bean elixir of life. Gepard smells it, savors it, closes his eyes and then takes a slow sip.]
It's good. Better than what my coffee maker can make. [His eyes open again.]
Let me go change. I wasn't expecting company, so I'm not exactly decent beneath, well. [He shrugs.] This. [The comforter, his shroud.] I'll be back.
[And he's trundling off to put on some pants, holding his comforter-skirt in one hand, and the coffee in the other.]
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Date: 2024-06-10 03:58 am (UTC)[Gepard closes his eyes when he takes a sip of coffee, savoring it like it really is the elixir of life. It really isn't fair that he's handsome.]
Sure, go ahead. I'll get breakfast set out.
[So while Gepard shuffles off to go put on a decent amount of clothing, Sampo sets out his breakfast for him, plates it up on his own dishes so that he doesn't have to eat it out of to-go containers. Two eggs over-easy, served on the crusty fried toast with a plentiful side of bacon. If Belobog weren't an iceball of a planet, he would have added some avocado to the toast, maybe poured him a glass of orange juice for the vitamin C. But citrus and avocados are unheard of in Belobog's post-Eternal Freeze, if they ever existed here even before that. One day, maybe Sampo could--]
[What's he thinking? Nothing important.]
[When Gepard returns, presumably fully clothed, he'll have a curious Sampo poking around a little of his apartment-- maybe taking a look at his windowsills, and the pots that line them.]
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Date: 2024-06-12 03:52 am (UTC)1. He's not really sure about the etiquette for what to wear when you have a...platonic friend/ally in your apartment, and said man just learned you were nude beneath your comforter. Does he dress up? Dress down? Dress like he'll head out after breakfast? Dress like he's going to stay in?
2. And he doesn't own much besides Silvermane uniforms to wear...he does have clothes which aren't that. But not much. He wishes he could corner Serval and demand help, except he doesn't because she'd get the wrong idea, and make things worse, and he doesn't have time, and-
He puts on a sweater. He puts on pants. It's very plain. He glances at a mirror and immediately regrets the fact that he's not fashionable, and then Gepard reminds himself that they're platonic and he wouldn't know the first thing about looking good for someone, let alone a mysterious someone, and- he picks up the coffee mug, takes another bracing drink, and heads out again. The food's plated, it smells delicious, and Figaro (what is his name, what is his name) is looking at some sad pots and Gepard winces.]
I know. [They're not all dead, but some of them are, and he's putting his best effort into keeping the ones which are struggling alive, but...they're struggling. In fact, Gepard walks over so he can look over Figaro's shoulder, and...
Gepard winces again. It's a struggler Figaro's looking at. At least it's probably not dead yet?] I'm not very good at keeping plants alive.
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Date: 2024-06-12 05:09 am (UTC)[When Gepard emerges, dressed like a very normal albeit slightly boring citizen of Belobog, Sampo's in the middle of examining one of his very sad and distressed plants. It's... probably still alive, there seems to be a little bit of green left in the few leaves that sadly cling to it. Once, it was probably green and healthy, and now it's a very scraggly, patchy looking thing. Probably got depressed after watching all of its neighbors slowly wilt into nothing.]
Yeah, I can tell. [No one's going to be asking Gepard for horticultural advice, that's for sure.] These ones are definitely struggling.
[He tries to lift one of the leaves to look at the soil underneath, but it just kind of... pops off. He just sets it down in the pot.]
Is it supposed to be so wet under there?
[Sampo really doesn't know much about keeping plants, but like. The soil maybe shouldn't be so soggy?]
Anyway, breakfast is ready if you want it, and there's more coffee.
[Don't worry, Gepard, he won't dwell on your floral failures. So what if he sucks at growing plants? He's a grown man, he can decide for himself if he wants to waste his money buying something that he's just going to kill in a month. That's his prerogative, and at least it doesn't hurt anything except the plants. And their opinions on the matter clearly aren't a factor here.]
I can head out, if you don't want me sticking around.
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Date: 2024-06-13 01:24 am (UTC)Is it supposed to be so wet under there? He answers that with a noise, a vaguely confused one: he killed his last plant via under-watering it, so he went in the opposite direction and seems to just be finding new and inventive ways of killing a plant.
Breakfast is there? Good, but then at the...suggestion? Invitation? Whatever it is, Gepard's gaze shoots from the plants to Figaro (he needs to find out his name) and he tries very hard to not react to what it was Figaro said in a weird way, and in the process accidentally gives him some puppy dog eyes.]
I won't ask you to stay if you have something else you need to do, or would prefer doing, but... [Why is this so embarrassing to admit- Gepard's gaze drops from Figaro and his stupid green eyes, to his withered and far less green plant.] I enjoy the company. It's been a while since I ate with other people. But it must be boring for you.
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Date: 2024-06-14 04:20 am (UTC)[So! It seems like he'll be staying for a while, because he's a sucker for a handsome man.]
When you ask so nicely, how can I refuse?
[Come on, Gepard-- Sampo hooks an arm around Gepard's, leading him away from his disastrous gardening attempts and back towards his breakfast. You have to eat it before it gets cold, Sampo didn't spend his morning slaving over a hot stove just for you to eat cold bacon and eggs.]
What are your plans for the day, Captain? Since you've got it all to yourself!
[He leads him over to where his breakfast is plated out. Be a good boy and eat, Sampo will refill your coffee for you. Just like a good little wifey would, or, at least, a good vampire man that's agreed to make sure you get three square meals a day.]
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Date: 2024-06-14 05:00 am (UTC)...ignore the blush. Food's a good enough distraction, anyway.
He's led to the table, and he sits, and there's bacon and eggs and the food looks good. Very good. His stomach gurgles. Gurgle. The blush might be harder to ignore.]
...I haven't really thought about it. [Eating breakfast is normal. He's eating breakfast. Chewing, biting, swallowing.]
In all honesty, if you hadn't surprised me, I might have ended up at work anyway. [It's more than a bit embarrassing to admit. Don't point it out, please. He needs to pretend like he's a functional adult with a functional range of functional hobbies and a healthy work-life balance in order to carry on.
...sigh.] There's just so much to do and not enough hands to do them. To be honest, sitting while others are taking up my work feels...wrong, and it hasn't even been a day. I know.
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Date: 2024-06-16 03:00 am (UTC)Wouldn't you have gotten in trouble if you'd shown up, because you're on medical leave?
[Most employers would probably frown upon their employees completely disregarding a doctor's orders, especially when said doctor's orders occurred right after a particularly troubling shift. It wouldn't have been that strange for Gepard to have been told to take a day off after being attacked and kidnapped by their mysterious assailant, just because of the stress. The fact that it was less stressful due to Sampo being the closest thing to vegan that a vampire can be is beside the point.]
You're very dedicated! I'm sure no one minds handling your duties for a day or two while you get a little rest. [Many of them might breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that the Captain had finally taken a little time for himself like a mere mortal man.] And, well, you at least know that I'm off of everyone's plate!
[No more mysterious victims waking up near geomarrow heaters with sore necks and amnesia. That also means no more time wasted on trying to find an elusive perpetrator, no more reports, no more meetings and patrol alterations. A fair bit of work cleared off of their to-do lists, all because Gepard decided to become a people-flavored Capri Sun.]
So don't feel so bad! You might be taking some time off, but it's after saving everyone some work, so doesn't it all kind of balance out?
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Date: 2024-06-16 03:39 am (UTC)It'll probably depend on what he tries to do.
...but Figaro's trying to be very convincing, and he's going to just accept it instead of trying to fight what he's saying.]
...I guess so.
[...even if he doesn't like feeling like a liability.
...moving on.]
Even so, I'm not exactly sure what to do with all this time I have. I'm not good at resting - I've gotten on the bad side of more than one doctor, actually. [Fucking impossible to keep him in a bed any longer than they gotta.]
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Date: 2024-06-16 03:49 am (UTC)I'm not surprised. You seem like the type to work until you drop! Or, anyway, until someone orders you to take the time off.
[Mandatory leave. Sampo wouldn't be surprised if Gepard has a long history of being forced to take time off just because he refuses to until it's entirely unavoidable. Really, if he took more breaks on a regular basis, he'd probably have fewer chunks of time that he's forced to be on leave-- the same way that a car that gets regular maintenance doesn't have to be in the shop as long as one that's driven until it falls apart.]
[There is the question, though, of what to do with Gepard's free time. Since he asked Sampo to keep him company, he feels like he ought to have at least some suggestions for how to fill the hours.]
Do you want to go to the florist's? [That's something to do, and it fits with what Gepard apparently likes, even if he's a shit gardener.] Maybe we could pick up another plant for you. Between the two of us, we might even be able to keep it alive!
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Date: 2024-06-16 04:22 am (UTC)This isn't a good thing. Gepard knows it. That's besides the point.
...the thing is, he didn't expect that Figaro would suggest something that he liked so much. What the heck. How is he supposed to turn this into a professional relationship when Figaro up and says something like that.]
I'd like that. And I could use all the help I can get. [It's a joke! Laugh. He knows he's got a black thumb. He can mock himself.] We're also doing something you like sometime soon, today or tomorrow or...whenever you feel like it. I don't want you to feel like you just have to do things I like.
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Date: 2024-06-17 03:08 am (UTC)[He even makes a joke! The good Captain is in a particularly fine mood this morning, even though he's had to show his dead plants to his vampire acquaintance. See, this is what a good night's sleep and a break from work can do for you, Gepard, it gets you some company, a nice outing, and a better mood.]
I'll hold you to that! Maybe tomorrow we'll do something that I want to do. We'll get you set up with new plants today.
[He leans his hip against the table, casual and cavalier.]
And, hey, now you have someone to look after your plants for you while you're busy on the front lines! I can always pop in and make sure they're watered while you're away. Plant-sitting is just one of the many services that I have on offer.
[As of right now.]
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Date: 2024-06-18 01:45 am (UTC)[Sure, it's not that tough of a job - it's just watering plants. Gepard might have a black thumb, but he knows other people don't. But also, it's strangely...generous? It feels generous. More generous than it actually probably is. Probably.
Maybe.
But it's nice. Gepard flashes Figaro (what is his name, this is driving him nuts) a smile. A small thing. A little sheepish, maybe.]
You're cooking for me, you're helping me with my plants...if I had more room, I'd ask if you wanted to be my roommate. [...sure, roommate's a safe word. And Figaro's safe house was rather lonely. Barren. His underworld one is better, surely, or maybe he sleeps somewhere else, surely. It can't just be barren apartments with aggressively okay hot water and aggressively okay heating. He shouldn't be wondering about replacing his couch with one that has a pull-out bed.] I could clean and do the laundry in exchange for your cooking and plant-sitting. [When he's around, at least. He'd try. He'd make an effort. He'd do his best.]
But I have only one bedroom and I'm not sure about the couch, so... [So.] Maybe it's for the best.
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Date: 2024-06-18 04:11 am (UTC)[And there's the only one bedroom thing. While Sampo has slept on worse than a couch-- his Underworld safehouse is objectively worse and more concerning than his Overworld one-- he can get why Gepard wouldn't be comfortable with shacking him up in the living room while he sleeps in a bed. And as for splitting the bed, well. You don't share a bed with your buddies, and Gepard isn't going to be upgrading his new acquaintance to live-in fuckbuddy any time soon.]
[That's probably just called a sugar baby, actually. Might not be the worst job, being Gepard Landau's sugar baby. Sampo has heard that the Landau family is pretty much top dog on this little backwater planet, and there are worse things in life than paying for room and board with your ass. Gepard's easy on the eyes! Just also not interested in asses if they're attached to men.]
It's a generous offer! But your pal Figaro lives a bachelor's lifestyle. You'd get annoyed with me coming and going at all hours.
[So they'll stay acquaintance-friends. A perfectly fine thing for them to be! Nothing wrong with recognizing a good thing and keeping it as it is.]
This way, I only bother you when I'm sneaking into your place! [Like a stray tomcat.] You should make a habit of leaving a window open for me so I don't have to keep picking the lock.
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Date: 2024-06-18 05:10 am (UTC)But he is.]
Wouldn't it be easier for me to just give you a copy of my key? [Doesn't that make more sense?] Normally, I wouldn't even consider it. I barely even know you. I don't know your name. But you're- well. Here? It's not as if locks show any signs of stopping you. I might as well make it official.
[He takes a moment to take a drink of his coffee. (He shouldn't be happy about this. But something about how absurd everything is makes Gepard happy. It's absurd. Everything that's happening is absurd. It makes it easier to surrender to it and say things that Gepard-the-soldier shouldn't say, but Gepard-the-man can.)] But something tells me you'd prefer the challenge of a locked window to a front door and a key. Promise me that if you do decide to spend the night, you'll do your best to warn me ahead of time so I can get extra blankets for the couch.
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Date: 2024-06-19 04:17 am (UTC)There isn't a lock in Belobog that I can't pick. [Really, there isn't. Lock technology on this backwater planet is antiquated, stuff that's been cracked out in the wider galaxy for a few centuries. It's kind of fun, getting to pick these old styles rather than having to break through more advanced digital safeguards.] I'll try not to break any of yours!
[There will be more than one morning where Gepard will find some lock that he'd placed sitting on his kitchen table, just to let him know that it was no match for Figaro. Even if it wasn't a lock that he'd put on his house.]
I'll give you a heads up. It would be rude of me to surprise you first thing in the morning! Besides, you might hit me, and you've got a good arm on you.
[If that bottle swing when he'd tried to subdue Gepard in that back alley is any indication.]
[He tips his head at Gepard, pondering something he'd said-- a little curious gesture.]
Does it bother you that much that you don't know my name? You asked me for a fake one. [He would've given Gepard a fake one anyway, it's only sensible, but at least it wouldn't have been so out in the open.]
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Date: 2024-06-19 06:30 pm (UTC)For now, Gepard lives in blissful ignorance, eating some eggs, perfectly content in being happy.
Then, Figaro asks that question, and Gepard freezes. The fork is halfway to his mouth. It indecisively hovers. Then, the captain puts it back on his plate. This is what happens when he lets down his guard. Figaro/Ringo/whatever else he might become asks a question, and Gepard's left feeling a little too seen.
But it's too late to run from the question, and he hates running, so...]
A little. [More than a little, but, a little. He can admit to a little.] But I did ask you for a fake name. I expected a fake name. I have no doubt you've committed crimes besides the ones I know about, so it would be stupid for you to give me your real name.
[And all of this makes total sense, and all of this is said in a reasonable tone of voice, and all of this is practical and is part of their arrangement. No problems here. Absolutely none.]
So it's not as if I'm...offended. [...it would be easier if he was offended, actually, anyway, fork goes up, food's shoved into his mouth, he can't talk, he's chewing.]
no subject
Date: 2024-06-25 01:58 am (UTC)[Gepard, as expected, is honest in his answers. An honest man, what a novelty. It's new to have a man who actually tells him the truth when he asks a question.]
It would be. Not that I'm confirming any crimes, mind you, but it would be silly for me to give my real name to a man who should want to arrest me.
[It's silly for him to hang around with a man who should want to arrest him, but right now, their acquaintanceship has more benefits than detriments. The arrest risk is worth having a willing juice box. Never let it be said that Sampo Koski isn't willing to risk it for the biscuit!]
[And speaking of risking it, he smiles at Gepard as a fun little idea comes into his head.]
Well, Captain, if you're not offended, how about we play a little game? [Don't you like games, Gepard? Sampo likes games.] If you can figure out my name, I'll owe you a favor. Whatever you want!
[He'll even walk himself right into a jail cell for him, fair's fair.] But if you're wrong, I get one from you.
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Date: 2024-06-26 02:42 am (UTC)Gepard knows he should hate it. He really should. It's giving someone he doesn't know too much power, because he'd do his best to live up to it (at least, so long as it doesn't put the safety of Belobog in harm's way) but...
But he licks his lips, instinctively, reflexively, unconsciously.]
I have a condition before I can agree to something like that. Whatever you ask for can't harm Belobog: I can't put my duty before any games we play. [This is not a no. This is the exact opposite of a no. This is a measuring condition, said in a measuring voice. Testing the waters.]
...and wouldn't that mean I'd owe you countless favors if I constantly get it wrong?
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Date: 2024-06-26 03:22 am (UTC)I suppose I can agree to that! I won't ask you to abandon your duties to our fair city just for my little whims. But only for things that are a real threat! Your wounded pride doesn't count.
[There are other things that he could ask for that probably wouldn't be good for Gepard's reputation or for his pride, but also wouldn't be a direct threat to Belobog. It's still a very large leeway for him, plenty of room for him to play in.]
Of course not! That wouldn't be very fair, would it? [Sampo waggles a finger at him. Silly Captain.] You only get one shot at guessing, and if you mess it up, that's it! No name for you, and you owe me the favor. So make sure you do your homework and make it count!
[There you go, Captain-- fair's fair. Gepard can't just make endless guesses of every name in Belobog's registries until he gets a hit, and Sampo can't keep collecting favor after favor for every wrong guess.]
Satisfied? I'll play fair if you will.
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