towerofanimus | [OPEN] In the back of my head there's a siren that won't shut up.

Characters: Eridan Ampora and YOU!
Setting: Media floor.
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Eridan's back from his little time out in the land of boredom and jack-fuck-shit-all-to-do, but they're serving waffles in the cafeteria and he needs a few dumb movies to shut up his brain before he braves out social interaction on a larger scale.
Warnings: Eridan.

[Eridan's got this whole thing sorted out. Utterly in control, it's him. You don't even know. He's got about four plates of waffles stacked up and he's curled up on the floor, back pressed against a couch, and there's blankets and really stupid action flick blaring in the screen. Screw you, Zen masters, he doesn't need no stinking peace and quiet to get some inner peace.

Or at least something that greatly resembles inner peace.

By which I mean denial. Very thorough, very careful denial. So yeah, no trauma here, no emotional unrest, no sir. All is calm and chill as fuck, and if you don't agree you can go have a talk with the barrel of his gun, which is coincidentally half hidden under that pile of blankets and within easy reach.

But it's not like he's being paranoid or anything. Of course not. Shut up. He's watching a movie and eating waffles and not going crazy. What's wrong with that?]

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[...and then the hand under Equius' head shifts so that Eridan can finger his hair, the gesture soothing. That blush is illegal levels of adorable, but he knows better than to even try to mention it. But as Equius closes his eyes, Eridan actually drags the purring into his voice.]

I missed you.

[He groans and puts one hand over his face, trying to ignore the beautiful siren song of Eridan's stupid hair petting. Equius needs more time to sulk in solitude over things that are ridiculous and also unimportant. God, you insensitive matesprit, you. He doesn't respond for a little while, but predictably, the first thing that came out of his mouth when he did was:]

...ugh. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

[Eridan shifts his legs a little, raising Equius without dislodging him, so that he can bend over and give him a snuggle while he remains sprawled on his lap.]

Don't be sorry, it's not your fault.

[Except now it actually is his fault, they were having this great Moment and he just had to mess it up with his Equiusness. But he shifts around again too, making no move to get out of the position he was in, and eventually takes the hand off his face. It's still quite yellow.]

...God, I missed you too.

[But the Equiusness is the reason they even have moments anyway. Eridan finds it adorable. Eridan brushes some hair off his face, smile a little wibbly. Then he just sort of lets his hand rest on Equius' shoulder.]

I'd promise to not leave again, if I could.

[And soon enough, Equius' hand is resting on top of Eridan's.]

I know you would. It's okay.

[Can we say holding hands? Because they're totally holding hands now.]

I hope nothing happened while I was gone?

[Poorly and awkwardly worded questions, awww yes, Ampora, you're smooth.]

[No, they're not holding hands!!! If they're holding hands, they would be MATESPRITS. And that's not what they are. obviously]

You didn't miss a thing.

[Except for, you know, Equius flipping his shit over the fact that Eridan is gone, again. But he assumes that's a given by this point. And if Eridan's being anything less than super sly and classy, Equius doesn't see it.]

I'm glad.

[Now let him relax bit by bit. And continue totally holding hands in the arcane ritual of awkward as fuck needy comfort. You don't even know how lucky you are, Equius. So lucky.]

It's nice to be back.

[Awkward as fuck needy comfort is fine by him, apparently, as Equius is now displaying by reaching up one hand and casually knotting it up in Eridan's hair. It's just the right length, he noticed, to do stupid stuff like this in without sacrificing any significant degree of masculinity (Equius' logic for his own hair stemming of course from the fact that he had no masculinity at all).]

I'm glad you're here, Eridan. You have no idea how many movies I've watched in the past week, and none of them have been quite the same without the constant technical commentary and bizarre accent.

[...says the vocal representative of Troll Scotland.]

[Eridan leans into the hand in his hair. The smile turns a little watery. Goddammit, Zahhak, you're gonna make him cry or something.]

Oh well, that just ain't gonna do.

[You wanted thick as fuck bizarre accent? Because that just happened. He sounds hoarse.]

I think we might have to sit down and watch them all over again so you don't go without proper commentary.

[And in exchange for that, Eridan gets one laugh that's really dorky and kind of rusted from disuse. But it's not as if Eridan's laugh isn't like that as well.]

Oh, no need. I just got a full week's worth right there...!

[Eridan basked in that laugh for as long as it lasted. And then he bent forward to place a very tiny, very chaste kiss to Equius' cheek. That's kind of a feat, what with the way Equius is lying on his lap. Hey, good news, Equius. Your matesprit is stupidly flexible.]

Perfect.

[Damn you, stupid flexible jadeblood shit, damn you and all the things you stand for. If Equius was being dumb before, now he's just flat-out brainless; the facial situation is kind of like if leftover happiness and utter shock had some kind of hybrid illegitimate child and left it on the doorstep that is Equius' head. And then it all promptly went to moe uguu and he was blushing like an anime again, slapping one hand over his face to try and hide it. Enjoy the strangled-cat noises.]

[Equius doesn't know what to do with you, boy. Really.]

[Eridan smiles and goes on fingering Equius' hair. He digs the uguu, it's kawaii as fuck.

Can we... can we just stay like this forever? Can that be a thing? Eridan wants it to be a thing so badly.]

[Sure, yeah, why not. Eventually the hand moves up to start rubbing at his forehead, as if the moe he's giving off like a lightbulb is actually affecting his head. Which it probably is. There's no escape from the moe, even in your mind.]

I can't fucking believe you.

[OPEN] In the back of my head there's a siren that won't shut up.

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