"If there was a button that killed everyone I hated, I probably wouldn't press it ... but if there was a button that killed everyone who hated me, I'd press it without hesitation."
[ He does want all those things. Wants them fiercely enough that the inference that they are impossible stirs up an anger that has the edges of his vision rimmed in white. This was supposed to be his friend. This was supposed to be a safe place for him to turn to. (The mess he had with Danny was supposed to be something special, how can he just do it again with--)
[ Maybe it's not only anger clouding his head. Quentin's cheeks puff up with a sharp breath out. It shakes tears loose along with it. Starve a fever: don't feed the fire that Danny is stoking in Junpei. It's okay. It's okay. His voice is tight, but that's okay. ]
How about--you won't let him hurt you. Your heart.
[ He can't stop his eyes from rolling. The petulant expression knocks more tears loose, undercutting what little cool he has. It's not like that, Junpei says, and surely he believes it. He doesn't know any better. Quentin raises a hand between them, nodding. Shaking his head. Nodding. ]
That's--okay. That's all I can--ask. [ All he can ask that Junpei hasn't already said he won't do. All he can bring himself to say without his throat tightening traitorously against him. He scrapes his eyes and swallows hard. ] Okay. I'll see you, Junpei.
[ But Junpei can certainly gather, by the way Quentin ducks out the door and beelines out, that they won't be seeing each other any time soon. ]
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[ A hard swallow on something that won’t go down. ]
… beautiful … when he tells me he wants me … speaks to the part of me that’s hungry … that I won’t give in.
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[ Maybe it's not only anger clouding his head. Quentin's cheeks puff up with a sharp breath out. It shakes tears loose along with it. Starve a fever: don't feed the fire that Danny is stoking in Junpei. It's okay. It's okay. His voice is tight, but that's okay. ]
How about--you won't let him hurt you. Your heart.
And you won't talk about me with him.
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[ Firmly. Stubbornly. Wishing he wasn’t so pathetic. ]
I don’t love him Quentin. This is … something else.
[ And, looking at the floor timidly. ]
We don’t talk about you.
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That's--okay. That's all I can--ask. [ All he can ask that Junpei hasn't already said he won't do. All he can bring himself to say without his throat tightening traitorously against him. He scrapes his eyes and swallows hard. ] Okay. I'll see you, Junpei.
[ But Junpei can certainly gather, by the way Quentin ducks out the door and beelines out, that they won't be seeing each other any time soon. ]