[Nightlight]

[seeagreatergood]

So things got awkward and Auggie moved his stuff back out of the Stark household into Milliways.

And he's been totally fine with it. Honestly. It's been kind of a relief not to have to keep such a close eye on himself the last three or four days. Milliways is kind of anxiety-inducing, but less anxiety inducing than living in a house with those two young men.

Of course, he misses the easy camaraderie. But it's not like this is the first time he valued safety over friendship.

Comments

[seeagreatergood]

"Guys who hurt people for personal gain will find reasons to do it again."

[if_inconvenient]

"As my current collection of bruises will attest, Obadiah is not lacking for opportunities to hurt people. He does not mind that we like it; in fact he finds it gratifying. Can you trust me when I say that I know what powers the machinery of his mind, and if he becomes a danger to us, I will take appropriate steps?"

[seeagreatergood]

"I don't really have a choice about trusting you," Auggie comments, not a little frustrated. "There's fuck-all I can do about the situation."

[if_inconvenient]

"You certainly do have a choice. Your choice will not affect what I do with Obadiah, but I think it will affect what you do with me."

[seeagreatergood]

"Jesus." He rubs his forehead.

"I'm not about to stop hanging out with you guys, if that's what you're implying."

On the contrary. That little bombshell might convince him to move back in with them, for what little good he can do to keep them safe.

[if_inconvenient]

"I am implying that if I do not convince you I know what I'm about, you will continue to think you might take advantage of me."

[seeagreatergood]

Auggie blows out a breath and nods.

[if_inconvenient]

"So I ask again: can you trust me? And if not, what evidence might you find convincing?"

[seeagreatergood]

"Goddammit, Sherlock, of course I trust you, but--"

This is so fucking ridiculous.

"You could call me back in five years, if you live that long."

[if_inconvenient]

He laughs.

"Charming thought. So tell me, then, at what point exactly will I qualify for adulthood by your personal standard?"

[seeagreatergood]

Great, now he'll look like a condescending asshole instead of a pedophile.

"Chronologically? Maybe once you're past college-age. Assuming you've learned any self-preservation by then."

[if_inconvenient]

"Heaven forfend I should ever learn any such thing," he says, and it's a joke but it also isn't.

[seeagreatergood]

"Sherlock," Auggie groans. "If you weren't already bleeding I would kick your ass."

[if_inconvenient]

"Auggie, I am going to keep taking risks no matter how old I get. That is just the sort of person I am." He quirks a smile. "And you may kick my ass regardless, if you like. I'm sure we can find somewhere to put a few more bruises."

[seeagreatergood]

He facepalms.

"You would get off on it and I wouldn't. So no, not right now."

[if_inconvenient]

"Suit yourself," he says brightly.

[seeagreatergood]

Auggie pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath, and picks up his cane.

"All right, I can't do this anymore."

[if_inconvenient]

"I am sorry."

[seeagreatergood]

"Yeah, thanks."

He stands up.

"I don't even know where to start, Sherlock. I'm pretty sure sleeping with you is just going to fuck both of us up even more."

[if_inconvenient]

That hurts a little.

"I don't believe it will," he says, soft but distinct, keeping the hurt out of his voice because to show it would do no one any good. "But if you do, then we'll say no more about it."

[seeagreatergood]

"No, saying no more about it is apparently what got me into this mess in the first place."

Deep breaths, Auggie.

"We are going to talk about this again," evenly, "when you're not bleeding and I can think straight."

[if_inconvenient]

"All right. Shall I take you downstairs?"

[seeagreatergood]

"I'll make it. Thanks, though."

[if_inconvenient]

"Anytime."

[seeagreatergood]

"Thanks," again. Goddammit, this whole thing sucks out loud.

He heads out into the hallway, closes the door behind him, and leans against the wall. He's pissed off and worried and scared and confused and he doesn't know how to make Sherlock understand because the guy is so infuriatingly certain and--

He slams the side of his fist against the wall, hard enough to hurt like hell. It takes him a second to realize that Sherlock will have heard that.

Fucking hell. Time to go back to his own room. He needs to get his head right.