Devin raises his head sharply, mouth open as though to say something but no words come out. He has difficulty expressing his emotions at the best of times, and usually he talks around them. It doesn't come as a surprise that this would be upsetting for the Fool, but articulating a response is challenging for more reasons than not wanting to hurt his lover any further.
Whatever is happening between Devin and Sam back home is still an abstract concept, a distant idea that's been shelved for the time being. Until today, Devin hadn't seriously considered what might happen if Sam actually showed up in Aifaran. It makes him more than a little miserable that caring for one person is wounding another he cares for even more deeply; this is an aspect of relationships he hadn't thought of and is not wholly prepared for.
"No matter how I feel about Sam," Devin begins, a tremor in his voice betraying his distress, "I wouldn't leave you for him if he were really here." He makes a hollow sound that might be a laugh, shutting his eyes for a moment. Sam likely wouldn't take him if he left the Fool; he'd get an hour-long lecture and the doctor would march him right back here. "All he's ever asked of me is to let someone in, even if it wasn't him."
Hell, he'd probably be their biggest fan. Sam was frustratingly reasonable and levelheaded. There is a plea in Devin's eyes for his lover to understand, to believe him. To not punish him for honesty, however illogical the thought is. Devin has spent so much time and energy on hiding his heart that showing it still carries risk. "For what it's worth-- if it weren't for him, I don't think we would even be here. I don't think I could have tried."
They are, the both of them, wounding each other without even trying. The Fool can easily tell that his pain is causing Devin pain--all because of a dream, and feelings that followed Devin here from his own world, feelings that he has no control over. (And navigating feelings, the Fool knows, are not easy for Devin.) The Fool draws a breath and reaches for steadiness, or at least some approximation of it. Then he takes hold of Devin’s hands and gently traces his thumbs across the ridge of each knuckle.
“Forgive me, I--” His quiet request tapers off into silence, though it doesn’t linger. He smiles, a melancholic expression that twists the corners of his lips, and drops his eyes to their hands. “I remain ruled by my own bloody insecurities, it seems. There have been precious few occasions for jealousy in my past, and hence, even fewer occasions to master it. But that should not become your burden.”
He lifts his eyes to Devin’s again and reaches up to tenderly touch his cheek. “Tell me more about Sam,” he encourages him. A beat, before he adds with the smallest of wry smiles, “I already know that he has good taste.”
(His fear and jealousy have not been bested yet--but he is trying.)
Before he does anything else, Devin gently pulls the Fool into his arms. It's a tangible emphasis on the choice he's made as much as an expression of gratitude. Wanting to know more about Sam is definitely not what he was expecting out of this conversation.
Devin takes a few breaths before he speaks, his embrace loose enough that his lover can move if he wants to. "He's... stubbornly patient," Devin begins softly, carefully. How much should he say? This can't be easy for the Fool. "And probably the only one of the hunter group who treats me like a person first and a vampire second." Including Devin himself, which Sam had been amiably arguing with him about for the better part of five months.
More wryly, Devin adds: "He takes no bullshit and he's hard to piss off."
“I like him already,” the Fool replies, smiling a little more warmly, but he knows the words are not entirely truthful even as he speaks them aloud. He’s jealous; there’s no escaping it, and undoubtedly if he and Sam were ever forced to cross paths with each other, he would need time to prepare himself for it. Still, being gathered into Devin’s arms like this does plenty to assuage his fears, and with closed eyes he leans into the embrace and allows silence to settle around them.
For a moment or two more he says nothing. Then, his fingers curling slightly into the fabric near the small of Devin’s back, he says softly, “I would not leave you, either, were Fitz to come back.”
That's probably enough detail about Sam; Devin doesn't want to prolong the discomfort even if he deeply appreciates that the Fool is trying. At that last comment, Devin tightens his embrace around his lover for lack of anything better to say. He would be lying if he claimed the possibility of Fitz's return had never bothered him. Fitz and the Fool have a bond deeper than any Devin has experienced, something he can't even hold a candle to. He wouldn't blame his lover for choosing Fitz, though it would hurt immensely.
But the Fool did say Devin looks at him and wants him like no one else has. Maybe he shouldn't be trying to compare himself to Fitz in the first place. That will take some work.
He tips his head down and presses a kiss into the Fool's hair. "I just wanted you to know ahead of time, in case it happens again," Devin says at length. "Hopefully it'll be over soon."
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Whatever is happening between Devin and Sam back home is still an abstract concept, a distant idea that's been shelved for the time being. Until today, Devin hadn't seriously considered what might happen if Sam actually showed up in Aifaran. It makes him more than a little miserable that caring for one person is wounding another he cares for even more deeply; this is an aspect of relationships he hadn't thought of and is not wholly prepared for.
"No matter how I feel about Sam," Devin begins, a tremor in his voice betraying his distress, "I wouldn't leave you for him if he were really here." He makes a hollow sound that might be a laugh, shutting his eyes for a moment. Sam likely wouldn't take him if he left the Fool; he'd get an hour-long lecture and the doctor would march him right back here. "All he's ever asked of me is to let someone in, even if it wasn't him."
Hell, he'd probably be their biggest fan. Sam was frustratingly reasonable and levelheaded. There is a plea in Devin's eyes for his lover to understand, to believe him. To not punish him for honesty, however illogical the thought is. Devin has spent so much time and energy on hiding his heart that showing it still carries risk. "For what it's worth-- if it weren't for him, I don't think we would even be here. I don't think I could have tried."
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“Forgive me, I--” His quiet request tapers off into silence, though it doesn’t linger. He smiles, a melancholic expression that twists the corners of his lips, and drops his eyes to their hands. “I remain ruled by my own bloody insecurities, it seems. There have been precious few occasions for jealousy in my past, and hence, even fewer occasions to master it. But that should not become your burden.”
He lifts his eyes to Devin’s again and reaches up to tenderly touch his cheek. “Tell me more about Sam,” he encourages him. A beat, before he adds with the smallest of wry smiles, “I already know that he has good taste.”
(His fear and jealousy have not been bested yet--but he is trying.)
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Devin takes a few breaths before he speaks, his embrace loose enough that his lover can move if he wants to. "He's... stubbornly patient," Devin begins softly, carefully. How much should he say? This can't be easy for the Fool. "And probably the only one of the hunter group who treats me like a person first and a vampire second." Including Devin himself, which Sam had been amiably arguing with him about for the better part of five months.
More wryly, Devin adds: "He takes no bullshit and he's hard to piss off."
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“I like him already,” the Fool replies, smiling a little more warmly, but he knows the words are not entirely truthful even as he speaks them aloud. He’s jealous; there’s no escaping it, and undoubtedly if he and Sam were ever forced to cross paths with each other, he would need time to prepare himself for it. Still, being gathered into Devin’s arms like this does plenty to assuage his fears, and with closed eyes he leans into the embrace and allows silence to settle around them.
For a moment or two more he says nothing. Then, his fingers curling slightly into the fabric near the small of Devin’s back, he says softly, “I would not leave you, either, were Fitz to come back.”
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But the Fool did say Devin looks at him and wants him like no one else has. Maybe he shouldn't be trying to compare himself to Fitz in the first place. That will take some work.
He tips his head down and presses a kiss into the Fool's hair. "I just wanted you to know ahead of time, in case it happens again," Devin says at length. "Hopefully it'll be over soon."