possessum: (some part of you covered me)
α΄˜α΄‡α΄›α΄‡Κ€ Ι’Κ€α΄€Κœα΄€α΄ πŸ‘‘ α΄‹ΙͺΙ΄Ι’ α΄˜α΄€Ιͺᴍᴏɴ ([personal profile] possessum) wrote2019-08-07 09:01 pm

β€” 𝐜 𝐨 𝐧 𝐭 𝐚 𝐜 𝐭


action / text / video / etc.

NOTE: I am forever backtag friendly and absolutely open to doing things from past events that won't really have an effect on things at any given time. For example, if you'd like to do something with Peter aged down or when he was his spider dream guide, etc.

wontgraham: (willgraham-014)

[personal profile] wontgraham 2020-02-10 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ Peter is like moldable clay against Will; as soon as he's settled the jacket in place around Peter's shoulders - before, nearly - Peter is pressed up against him, arm like a cold brand around his waist. Clammy temple against his own. Will resists the urge to dab him dry with his sleeve, but he can't keep himself from tentatively brushing some of his hair off his forehead, stuck there with sweat. It's an itchy feeling Will knows too well to let linger.

Peter is surprisingly...mobile. Slow but trusting. He doesn't ask directions, although surely he's just used to the route down to first class quarters by now, right? Surely it's not just a blind trust that Will can't bring himself to believe he's earned...?

Will's key turns in the lock, a false signifier of safety and home. Or that's what it's felt like, until now - Will doesn't trust this room the way he does the ones back in his real home, but with Peter following himself...he can almost believe it's a safe place. That it's a nest to hide in.

Will's heart rate kicks up at the question. He makes a concerted effort not to look at the coffee table, on which sits a book that was gifted to him by Molly before she--
]

I wouldn't have taken a stranger in as a roommate while I was married. [ Will swallows. Locks the door behind them, turns on another lamp. ] And I can't...bring myself to take one now. [ Will would rather be directly alone, than reminded of how lonely he feels around other people he can't be close to.

The fact that he's found possibly the only possible way to sate loneliness on this ship is occurring to him, right now.
] Come on, it's just-- right in this room.
wontgraham: (willgraham-095)

[personal profile] wontgraham 2020-02-12 05:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There's no excuses left, after the momentum stops. Once the horrible thing's over with, once the aftermath's being waded through, that's when the vulnerability can creep in. For Will, it's when he wants nothing but solitude and comfort - and he's invited Peter into that space. This facsimile of his home, this space he bought as a temporary fortress...it's mostly just empty.

With Peter in it, the echoes of their voices feel different. Will hasn't actually spoken out loud in this space before, which is something he realizes with some surprise and shame.

'You don't like strangers?' It's so simple but damning. Will's first reaction is to feel caught, looking up at Peter like he's startled.
] ...No. [ Putting up walls now doesn't feel fair. Is this entirely Will's own decision? He thinks...he does want this. Whatever it's tentatively growing into.

Watching Peter sit in his bed and slide under the covers, ones that might just barely still be warm from Will's own body heat from before, aches. It doesn't feel wrong or too much, but it hurts in a way Will can't find a word for.
] If you ever change your mind about the kind roommate, you can...stay here. Whenever you'd like. [ Too much, maybe, but Will sees an open door and can't help but enter. Or is he begging Peter to be the one to come in?

Will hasn't thought about this large bed having sides to it before, usually sleeps directly in the center where it becomes something that he can hardly reach the edges of - his own version of a nest - but now he carefully goes to the side Peter didn't enter from. He pulls the sheets away enough to join Peter, sitting up in the bed still. Thankfully, the room service here means there's enough pillows for-- far more than even two people need.
] Is kind-- the most reassuring thing your roommate could be?
wontgraham: (willgraham-080)

cw: religious themes / ideation of Hell and Heaven

[personal profile] wontgraham 2020-02-15 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
[ With what's wrong with him. How often is something visibly wrong with Peter? Will's gaze sharpens and then blurs; he's staring at the side of Peter's face, attentive and hurt by the way Peter seems to hurt.

Outside the boundaries of Will's awareness, something shifts; he'd never been religious as he truly is, back home and back in Deerington. That means that this fabrication of himself, even if it might have been more historically accurate to shift his views...hadn't. Will is only as devout as he'd been back home.

Inside the boundary of Will's awareness, he hears the plaintive allegory in those words. In that question. In the metaphor of Heaven. Will swallows like the weight of it's suddenly resting on his sternum; he can feel the dread in Peter's voice like it's snuck into bed with them.
] I...believe that I could think of a better reward for me than living forever in a house I didn't build.

[ Blasphemous. If Peter were older, or had more social power than Will, Will wouldn't risk saying it. But this isn't like shocking a relative at a dinner party so they'll stop talking to you. This is Peter, afraid of something Will can't quite connect to, that Will isn't sure he even believes in, and Will feeling finally certain that the worst possible outcome isn't true.

Will shifts closer. Not enough for their knees to touch, even though Will crosses his legs and widens his stance that way, but it's enough that on a mattress, the movement is both sound and sagging motion. It's not easy to miss, and Will feels self-conscious followed by the rush of having been allowed to the last few times he's just reached out.

He carefully stretches his hand over to rest on Peter's shoulder.
] Is it actually heaven that you're worried about?
wontgraham: (willgraham-145)

cw: continued ideation of Hell and Heaven [ sleepover menu: hot cocoa and....existential despair ]

[personal profile] wontgraham 2020-02-27 01:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Will knows that the way he processes information isn't normal. He's known that since he was a child in class and realized he couldn't keep still when another student couldn't stop fidgeting, known it since he caught onto another's crying fit as if it were a contagious cough. Will's better at filtering himself now...but he remembers what before felt like.

And some of the ways in which he's structured himself to bear the load of so many minds and drives is...a perilous honesty. Probably not useful for bedtime stories, to announce that the classic idea of Heaven sounds more like a prison to you.

It's just never sounded personalized enough, private enough, to be appealing to Will.

Afraid of not going. Will was expecting the cut-and-dry Catholic answer - just afraid of going to Hell, afraid of eternal punishment. This is...more nuanced. Will's expression pinches, eyes on Peter's face.
] So this isn't just fear of not being good enough.

This is a fear of being...wrong. [ Peter said it earlier, 'Something's wrong with me'. Will assumes he's thinking of himself when he mentions Hell, even if 'what if they just disappear' sounds like it could easily be worry for his recently-dead parents.

Will shifts again, and this time he isn't afraid of letting his knee nudge Peter's. His hand moves over to Peter's other shoulder, his opposite one from Will's side, brings them closer together in a half-hug. Every movement is a careful thing, waiting for a sign Will ought to stop exploring boundaries they've never acknowledged before.
] I'd like to think something that powerful and infinite wouldn't punish people for being...confused. Or afraid. [ And this, right here, is where a switch is beginning to happen in Will...because this is wishful thinking. This is reassurance, triggered finally by catching on to Peter's worries (or so he believes) and from...sharing those worries, just a little. ]