hate_gettin_older | [PHverse PSL]

[PHverse PSL]

Calloway's Curios has moved, and expanded considerably. Fortunately for those few who rely on them, his regular products are still in stock -- such as the reliable bloodfruit.

On this particular day, though, the shop is mostly crowded with people checking out the new products on his shelves. And at one particular point in the afternoon, a loud and irate exclamation of "What the hell?" can be heard rising from somewhere in the aisles.

And repeated, a few moments later, rather louder, by a young man leaning across the customer service counter to yell at the proprietor. "What the hell, man? D'you have any fuckin idea what this is?"

He's brandishing a shapeless wad of blueish stuff in Calloway's face, accusingly.

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"Not here, I didn't." Erik hisses.

Max had all the support he needed to tell Erik to leave and never come back, but he didn't. They built something better. Something real. They did it together. They were supposed to have longer...

"Yes. Fine. All I want is for it to be safely disposed. More the better if you help so we can both be sure it's done properly."

"Fine." He does not sound fine about it.

"Where's good? Someplace something could explode and not do any harm."

"Let's take it to the cliffs. I can throw it far up over the water, if you can shoot it with your fire. Any debris will be quenched in the water below. How does that sound?"

A moment, as Edgar chews on that suggestion as though trying to find something wrong with it.

"Should work," he says finally. "And if I miss and it falls in, we can dive for it?"

"I'll transform into a hawk and fly down and retrieve it in that case, yes."

"Right then." He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, shoulders hunching slightly. "Let's go."

The cliffs aren't too far. He can manage a walk, even in this company.

"Doesn't hunching over like that make your back sore?" Erik asks impulsively as they set off.

"It surely can't be good for the spine."

Aaand perhaps he thought that too soon.

"Sorry," he says in a tone of offensively polite helpfulness, "scuse me, I think just possibly you've mistaken me for someone who gives a damn."

"Well, I'm not going to be the one with a hunched back by the age of thirty," Erik answers with naked amusement. Alas, Edgar doesn't seem much in the mood for taunts.

Very well.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asks instead, softer and more serious. "Without Max, I mean."

I'm not getting to thirty, he almost says, and doesn't.

And then immediately wishes he had, at the next question. His mouth twists to one side, and he doesn't answer.

Erik can't say he's shocked by the silence, but that just means he'll be the one to fill it.

"I did mean what I said earlier. If you need someone, I do hope that you will call me. If you need the self-serving reason, well, you are one of the few connections to hi that I have left now. Many people knew him, but not well. Not the way you did."

"Why would I call you." It isn't even a question, in his mouth. "You can't stand me. Christ, you thought I'd fuckin enjoy it if -- fuckin hell."

His voice has risen for a moment into anger, and drops wearily.

Erik tilts his head in a moment of real confusion. Truthfully, it's not just from the statement. It's that fact that... even if he agrees with Edgar's assessment that they can't stand each other, the thought of never speaking to him again brings a sense of sadness. He can't believe it; he might actually miss this if it stopped. Maybe he really has lost his mind.

"No, no. Go on; finish what you were going to say. I want to know what it is that bothers you."

"So you'll have it in hand next time you want to bother me?" His jaw cants sideways, like he's trying to chew through something tough.

"No!" he says in exasperation, "I want to know because there is clearly some kind of miscommunication happening between us yet, for the life and death of me, I cannot tell what it is."

"What fuckin difference does it make?" Edgar flings up both hands. "I can tell you right to your face and you say I'm fuckin pretending, what the hell does it matter? We were only ever doing this for him, for his sake so he wouldn't have to deal with our bullshit, and now he's gone --"

His voice cracks right in half, and for a horrible moment he's absolutely sure he's about to burst into tears.

"Pretending...?" When did he say that. Oh... wait. Now he does remember, and his expression immediately drops.

Suddenly Edgar doesn't sound like the only one holding back his emotions. "I'm sorry. I saw the worst in you when I shouldn't have. I didn't understand." Why does he even keep trying to?

Why do any of this? Why try so hard to win--what?--the approval of Max's former lover. Why does it matter so much?

"He's gone," Erik croaks. "And I still don't understand what he saw in you. Maybe you're right that all of this is pointless now."

Christ, why does that hurt to hear? It's exactly what he said. And meant. And it feels like something in his chest is coming apart.

"Maybe it always was." He can't look at Erik or he's going to hit something. "Maybe ... christ. I don't fuckin know. Nobody fuckin knows anything ever. Not even you, five thousand years old and read every damn thing in the whole damn world, you don't know anything either."

Maybe he's answered that earlier question, are you going to be okay without Max, without meaning to.

Erik can't help the dry, rueful chuckle that bubbles up now in the wake of Edgar's declaration. "Five thousand is giving me too much credit."

Still, he thinks that even if he were five thousand years old he still wouldn't know any better what to do now. That part rings true.

"You're right. I'm the one that spends a lot of time pretending. Truthfully, I'm at a loss. I just keep asking myself what Max would want me to do. I think he'd want me to live up to his expectations. Understanding his people seemed like...somewhere to start."

Edgar makes a tight, furious noise with no words in it, and turns his face away to swipe at his eyes with one palm. His hand rakes up into his hair in a continuation of the movement.

"He would." Low and hoarse. "He'd want that."

"What do you want?" Erik asks gently.

"If you tell me to avoid you, I will, but..." He briefly sucks in his bottom lip, revealing a hint of fang in the process. "I have to confess that I will miss having a reason to talk to you." Not even he can explain why to himself.

He opens his mouth, and closes it.

Because -- because he feels the same way, and that doesn't make any sense, does it? He doesn't like Erik. He's damn sure Erik doesn't like him either; that I still don't understand what he saw in you shouldn't sting like it does, but it's the truth, isn't it? Every time they talk to each other it turns into a fight, or something worse --

(Or something better, murmurs a sly voice in the back of his head. He shoves it away.)

"Let's get rid of this flammable shite," he says flatly, still looking away. "After that ..."

Edgar didn't say to stay away. Damn his fool heart, because that's all it takes to give Erik hope. But hope for what? What do they stand to gain by continuing these little spats...?

Memories of pleasure float to the surface and once again make him grateful he can't blush. Of all people, it was this little twerp that made him... want to submit. He can't figure that part out, either. Maybe that's the reason. He can't stand to leave this riddle unsolved. (Or is it that he can't stand the thought of never having the chance to do that again?)

"All right," he answers just as flatly. "We're nearly to the top. Let's get this over with."

Edgar digs the handkerchief-wrapped lump out of his pocket. Pauses.

"I'm setting that on fire whether or not you throw it," he says, holding it out, "just so you know."

"I expected no less." He takes the lump and hefts it to test the weight.

"Just give me the courtesy of a few seconds delay so we don't end up keeping each other company as ghosts for another twenty-four hours."

Rather than wait for Edgar to agree, he winds up and chucks the thing out over the edge in a slight upward trajectory. If Edgar tracks his shot right, it should be easy enough to connect.

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