altimit | .:Oh shit it's November:.

[ Gorre schemes when swallowed by the cursed wave...

Fragment's tied-for-best chess player smirks unrepentantly and bends to to begin scooping up more ammunition. Apparently his tiny spark of competitive spirit has been reawakened by this. He isn't backing down until he hears a surrender. ]

What was that? Are you admitting you lost your bet?

[ Something about overwhelming him with a lot of snowballs, hm. ]

[ I can't believe Gorre is peeking through remnants of Michel for snowball fights, smh.

Ganymede's head pops up and he scrambles, face flushed with annoyance as he gathers up the skirt and puts some snow into it after holding a bit of it out (what is he doing)? ]

Since when am I admitting I lost anything?!

[ Then he runs straight at Michel, hoping to collide into him with a bunch of snow (snowballeseque) things he has just gathered. What kind of tactic is this?? ]

Denying it won't change the facts—

[ Ah. The infamous "eating the chess pieces" strategy. He only partially saw this coming...

Michel catches Ganymede firmly, wobbling only a little... and then just decides to flop back into the snowdrift anyway, dragging Ganymede down with him. How does that pyrrhic victory taste, Ganymede? ]

[ ...Ganymede really would try it as a viable strategy, help. ]

Ah—!

[ Ganymede is caught firmly. At least the other man is getting back to being steadier catching him?! Either way, he's being dragged with thanks to Michel's last minute pyrrhic victory maneuver. ]

You...you did that on purpose!

[ But, is that the sound of some laughter? No, perish the thought, that is not why his shoulders are shaking at all and brightness coming up in those blue eyes of his. ]

You did it. You overwhelmed me.

[ It's completely deadpan, if Ganymede can ignore the tiny smile. Michel is much better at stoicism than Ganymede. No betraying laughs are escaping him yet, though he does squeeze Ganymede a little tighter when he feels his shoulders shaking with it. ]

You don't sound overwhelmed!

[ Michel gets another pitched higher sound of laughter that escapes Ganymede right away, which he can't hide. Thanks for holding him a bit tighter to help with that. But he will shift from where he's on top so he can manage his face to be closer to press a kiss straight to Michel's lips, though it is only a peck. ]

I see the smile on your face too...now, come on, silly. Let's get inside, we can't go into the lodge like this. Or, well, we can if you want to carry me in.

[ He is still giddy, evidently enough. He'd poke at Michel's sides too if he weren't sure the armor would be blocking that. ]

Edited 2023-11-16 19:09 (UTC)

[ Public affection, where anyone could happen by... That breaks Michel out of his stupor at last, and he flushes a little. Though that doesn't stop him from returning the kiss, quick and a little furtive. ]

How are you calling me silly? Who started this, again?

[ But he stirs, hefting Ganymede in his arms as he works his way to his feet again. His body might be back to normal, but his skills and his stats say he can still do this. ]

[ That's cute. Seeing him flush makes him want to kiss all over his face, even after Michel returns the kiss, and he smiles again, maybe wider. ]

Hmmm, I don't know. I suddenly can't remember?

[ Ganymede delightfully holds onto the other's shoulders, leaning into him as he's carried into the lodge.

At least inside it's more warmer, and speaking of which...he sneezes. Loudly. More than a couple of times when he tries to say something else. Yeah he's a baby about cold temperatures. ]

Then I'm carrying you back to the infirmary. It sounds as though your head injury is much worse.

[ Even cold-resistant Michel relaxes a little in the ambient warmth of the lodge. He's on his way over to the fireplace when the sneezing begins, and he pauses to look down at Ganymede just a little incredulously.

Also, amused. ]

We were hardly outside a few minutes.

Michel!

[ A perhaps delayed response to the reference of his head injury. Rude. He pokes at him in the chest, more than a couple of times. ]

Maybe it was just...the wind and cold on my nose. I have a very small and delicate nose!

[ Yeah. That's where Ganymede is going to put the blame on and not his weenie-level resistance to cold. It's fine.

He'll also just continue to wait for the other to bring him closer to the fireplace too. ]

Edited 2023-11-17 02:43 (UTC)

What?

[ Nothing he said warranted that drastic a response? He blinks at the repeated poking, finally counterattacking by leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of Ganymede's nose.

...It is a little cold, actually. Good thing Michel is settling him down on a cozy enormous armchair very near to the fire. One large enough for him to sink down into it beside Ganymede. ]

...You do. Next time, we'll cover you in scarves.

You can be such a mischievous tease too...that's all.

[ Ganymede says, performatively pouting. But, he doesn't mind, not really.

Then he's distracted by the kiss to his own nose, smiling a little. Though he does shift when he's settled down. Following Michel placing himself into the armchair beside him, Ganymede shifts to he can lay against him, head against his shoulder.

Excitedly, he'll ask: ]

Would it be in your colors? Like...black. You like black a lot, right?

[ Mischievous? Is he mischievous? That makes him sound at least five years younger...

Michel isn't going to fuss over the details, just relaxing into the warmth as Ganymede settles in. Safely inside, he considers it a moment before switching back to his ordinary civilian clothes. So much more comfortable to cuddle in a turtleneck and slacks than armor, once he's in no danger of snow in his shoes... ]

I thought threatening your fashion would be more or a deterrent. [ Why does he sound so excited... ] ...Black is... comfortable? It matches everything. I like it well enough.

[ And colors only make him look even more pale in contrast. He likes his neutrals. Dignified, austere. Low effort. ]

[ Does this mean Ganymede is now the older one between them (no)??

Well, with Michel switching back into civilian clothing, Ganymede can be more comfortable against his clothing than in armor. Also it's less colder through his clothing—though it isn't like even his cute coat is that much thin.

His answer is also not what he expected, though. He is thinking maybe of Michel's initial wear when they met (not in real life, but in the beginning of game...) ]

'I like it well enough' doesn't mean it's your favorite color, right? What's your favorite? The one you like best? Something you would choose over other colors if you felt it'd work out and like...share a kinship with?

[ He is asking this for reasons, even if it sounds kind of ridiculous. ]

Also, if I wear only a little of your color it doesn't threaten my fashion. I could incorporate it in somehow...depending on the clothing.

Edited 2023-11-17 14:45 (UTC)

[ Michel blinks, looking down at Ganymede as though he's grown two heads. This apparently is no deterrent to snuggling him... But he turns over this question in total perplexity as he does.

The little cuff piercings along the outer shell of his ears are black. Maybe that's as good of an answer as either of them are going to get, although it's not as though he has only one set of earrings. ]

I suppose... that's also black? I don't really have something like that.

[ A kinship with a color, help. It's hard to imagine what that would mean to him. Although admittedly, as he turns through his options, he does feel an anti-kinship with some colors. Pink, or yellow...

~~Technically his image color is purple but he doesn't know that.~~ ]

If I couldn't pick black... something like a wine red, or a dark purple... I suppose...

[ Sorry Ganymede. Your boyfriend has not an ounce of artistry in his soul and has never given this a moment's thought before. He only has colors that he hates being pushed on him. ]

[ Ganymede is asking this for good reasons. But he's happy to know that Michel does have a kinship with the color black! Well, actually, the answer is probably not indicative of it but his tiny brain is considering it as exactly that.

Though he does hear him list all those colors, and he seems to hum to himself a little bit. He pulls back for a moment, looking at his face. ]

Okay, okay...that's good enough for me.

[ The wheels are already a turning in his head for perhaps future fashion endeavors. Not just for himself, but Michel. They need to definitely go on a shopping spree once they get out of here. It doesn't seem like Michel's inclinations towards his array of colors (in confusion) are deterring him. Maybe even for some reason making Ganymede a bit brighter? ]

I have something for you. But first, close your eyes and hold out your right hand. Once you receive the thing I have, you can open them, okay?

[ Good enough for...? Ganymede's important fashion decisions, he supposes. Michel stifles a tiny smile at that. He has no idea how any of "his" colors can be made to work with Ganymede's prefered light blues and whites, but he'll leave the aesthetics to his boyfriend. ]

Something...? If this is a prank, I'm pushing you off the couch.

[ Delivered in tones of no menace whatsoever. Michel closes his eyes, and after a moment of inexplicable hesitation, stretches out his right hand palm-up. He's trying to look completely casual about it, but he's turning very slightly red again as he sits there. ]

Would I really play a prank on you like this?

[ As if he wouldn't, lol.

But, ah...Michel did it. Not that he hasn't been expecting otherwise. They trust each other so well.

...This isn't an ominous statement, really. It's just... ]

[ He's taking a moment to realize that, yes. He is going to give him something...yes, and not distracted by the cute blush.

Nope. And then he has perhaps a realistic panic of, 'What if he hates it?'

Or, or—but it's also important. So he can't back out now. Or, well. ]

.....

[ Okay! He should get to it because if he doesn't Michel will start to wonder if something is wrong, and...and—it isn't like he is the type to get nervous over these things now! It's different. He's fine.

He's confident. He's got this.

Michel won't hate it. He won't... ]

[ Without a single word, Ganymede shoves something into the hand, and pulls back the fingers so that Michel's hand can close around the small object (ignore the other words there shh). Which, if Michel reads, has an engraving with the following:

Αγαπητέ Michel Bollinger

Because of course he has always written down Michel's name. So he would have a record of it somewhere. And the letter has the other important word. ]

H-here!

[ He also almost falls back because he closes his eyes tight afterwards. He's got this. ]

[ Michel is, in fact, just beginning to fidget a little nervously. Was he overthinking? How embarrassed will he be if it really is just a prank? If he couldn't feel Ganymede warm against his side, he might start thinking that he's been left here as a joke. ]

Ganymede...

[ But before he can really start phrasing a protest, Ganymede's fingers brush his and something small and a little bit cold is pressed against his palm. His face goes all the way red now. Is he just jumping to conclusions...?

Very carefully, very slowly, he opens his eyes to peek. ]

[ ...Not overthinking at all, apparently. He runs his thumb lightly over the little inscription and then blinks a few times. The blush isn't subsiding anytime soon. That name, so he can never forget it. That word... that he can now remember in Ganymede's warm voice. Of course. How could he have ever forgotten where he heard it, even by force?

Very carefully, he slips it onto his ring finger, righthanded. That was... where Ganymede wears his, isn't it? He assumes Greece is like Germany, although he hasn't asked. He can't seem to stop touching it even once it's on his finger, tracing it with his thumb over and over to remind himself that it's there. ]

You made this...?

[ Ganymede biting his lip a little hard for a moment out of just...pure anxiety. Nervousness, and his heart racing a mile a minute. He has forgotten his nature to still catastrophize, but he's remembering it swiftly like this (sometimes, their shared traits are definitely a Thing), and he distinctly recalls people giving him Looks for it. But some habits do die hard.

Still, hearing the other speak something else besides his name, gets him to open one eye. Then the other. ]

...y-yeah.

[ His voice is so small like Ganymede doesn't trust himself to speak, his cheeks coloring, hands brought together, held tight so that they don't tremble.

He has been wearing gloves, but it reminds him to take them off now, they're inside now. He shows him the ring Michel gave him, settled still firmly on his own right hand, on his ring finger. ]

...You kept it.

[ He had thought... no, it's in Gorre's memories too, isn't it? Even when Ganymede had come to visit him then, he must have been wearing it. His mind shies sideways from some of those memories, a nervous animal distrustful of even his own approach still. But he remembers that...

If it had been him, would he still have worn it? He's always fled from pain. He thinks he would have taken it off, put it safely in a box until he was certain just how agonizing those memories would become. But Ganymede is headstrong in a way Michel simply isn't.

He reaches out with both hands to cup them very gently around Ganymede's, unfolding them in warmth. ]

...In Greece, is it— [ No, Ganymede won't remember if he puts it like that. And Michel is stammering anyway, too flustered with what he needs to ask. ] T-that is... Ganymede, what does... wearing it on the right hand signify to you...?

[ It's too leading a question already. Maybe it doesn't signify anything at all. Michel's hands squeeze a little more tightly around Ganymede's, nervous in turn. ]

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1/????

2/3

3/4 because i'm a liar :>

4/4

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