[At some late hour, after the Wayfarers' camp has settled in the cool desert dark, Cain takes a picture of himself. He's sitting in the cockpit of his ship β he'd wandered back earlier just to get some space and decided to stay the night. The chair isn't as comfortable as a sleeping bag, but it could be worse and it affords him privacy as he strips off his shirt and angles the device's camera down the front of his body.
The photo shows his face, since he's not that precious about it β black eyes slanted down in a sultry look, shadows from pale interior lights revealing the dark line of skin from his throat to his navel. He's tanned a little from being out in the sun every day; his complexion looks healthier than how much more pallid it seemed back on the Theorem. Hip bones are cut sharply, abdomen muscles defined, curve of a narrow waist showing just the beginning of that intimate trail of hair low on his belly.]
see? not frowning, and no wrinkles
[Oh no, too bad this got dropped into the group chat by accident.]
[ Recently it feels that Noctis has actually been able to find some sense of harmony and rhythm with his duties. He's begun to predict the desert's pitfalls with more accuracy, found the stamina to do his work around camp and without constant check-ins on his progress, and perhaps more importantly his social ties aren't just forming but strengthening. There's something of a net there now, tentative and strange as it might be, and that's helped keep everything else at bay so he can function.
Because of that, and in the wake of his first ever night of drinking, it isn't too surprising to see a message come through the group chat late at night. Probably a joke from Jonas, and that thought β along with the boneless kind of tired that accompanies a long day of working β has him dropping onto his cot and immediately checking the message. From Cain? That's less expected, and the text confuses him until he opens the attached picture.
Then he's really confused.
Cain's body is something he's studied even without seeing it in any real state of undress, having felt arm muscles and taken sidelong glances at a defined chest under the useful pretense of preparing to engage an opponent. There's no shame in that, just like there's never been in his past, but it equips him at least with the knowledge that this is his body, not some fake or any setup to a joke with an underwhelming punchline. The simple obvious response to realizing this is real and clearly taken and sent by him is irritation. They've taken a recent step back from Cain's sexual messages and effective attempts to get under his skin, and he actually might've called that progress... even if now, in the wake of his last conversations with Jonas and a newfound interest in worst-case assumptions, he wonders if that wasn't Jonas's doing all along. Now here's this, with a message he doesn't understand, and were he less flustered and dealing with how that manifests quickly into anger he might lean towards this being sent by accident. Instead: ]
Why
[ Any other reaction doesn't ferret for information the way he wants to, and doesn't keep him from looking like a dumbass if he reads the situation wrong. And that picture itselfβ
It's weird. Seeing someone like Gladio shirtless every day rapidly become normalized, in the same way that Cain's sexual jokes for a moment had become simpler to take in stride. But now? Combining the two, seeing a glimpse of something he shouldn't that was created to get a reaction, makes his stomach twist into knots. This isn't different than looking at something like pornography might've been growing up, except that it is in every way because this isn't a fantasy. This is someone real, tangible, close. Someone that, in a strange way, he enjoys.
He puts the communicator down flat, suddenly, too tense to wait for any typing dots. ]
Cain's selfies (hereinafter internalized as "The Picture") accompanies a message that's so clearly for him it makes him shiver; however, a savvy member of his generation, spies where it was sent too early to fully enjoy it. And that's the greatest sin here, really. That he has to wait until this blows over to closely examine The Picture, his appreciation for the disseminator of The Picture, and how much of a shit show his life has become.
The group chat header flashes at him like a neon warning sign ("Caution, Falling Rocks"), Noctis' notification forcing him to close out of The Picture with haste.
Oh, man. Oh God, oh man, Oh God.
He feels no dread. Contrarily, it's excitement that makes his stomach tense, suddenly rising from his seat in the back of his ship to pace a hole in the floor. Cain wouldn't have sent The Picture purposely to them both... right? There's no way. Not after the talk he had with him about Noctis' firm boundaries, and certainly not when their entanglement is only semi-public.
What the fuck does he do with this? Respond? Get angry? Express interest while remaining cool and aloof? Ignore it entirely and text a complimentary aside to Cain, who looks like a Greek God?
... Briefly admires The Picture again before owning up to his part of the chaos. )
Hi Okay So This is probably the most embarrassing way to say this but this was for me Highly unintentional I am so sorry you had to see this
Not that it's like Disgusting That's not what I'm implying because it's not I just think there was a miscommunication/misfire that wasn't actually planned Please disregard
Actually disregard all of this Like I can just delete all of these messages Totally my bad for not renaming the group chat to something extremely recognizable Thank you
He has the chat open in front of him when Jonas's messages start rolling in, immediately intending to assuage the situation β but Cain's eyes keep sticking on that one message, darknight: Why, like he's waiting for something else to come. There's a brief, cold feeling in the pit of his stomach he can't really identify in the moment, but he knows he's felt it before. Maybe it's dread, because whatever tenuous neutrality he's reached with Noctis is surely over and done with now. Backward several steps to the start. And Jonas, too, for all of his rambling β he's probably disappointed. Pissed, even if he's not showing it here in the group chat.
It's not like he's embarrassed by The Picture. If there's anything he has confidence in, it would be his body. In the strictly physical sense, it's kept him alive β whether through fighting or sex or all other demands he's made of it. But this isn't what he wanted to do.
are you guys even gonna believe me if i say this was an accident
look, i deleted it
won't happen again.
[Hope whoever wanted to save The Picture have already done so, because scrolling up they'll find it to be true: Message deleted right there where his glorious abs used to be.]
[ Jonas types like he talks, and normally that lends itself to a natural charisma that bleeds through in relatable, approachable texts. Right now, however, it means Noctis has to sit through each buzz of that communicator, checking it repeatedly as each comes in instead of getting it over with in one fell swoop.
And Cain isn't far behind.
So they're closer than he thought. Does that matter? They're friends, and it's not his job to worry about if Jonas is seriously in a good position for more β or even if Cain is, given their respective recent histories. It just makes their time together with all three of them feel... different, which is as unfair as it is unavoidable. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
un: reliant
The photo shows his face, since he's not that precious about it β black eyes slanted down in a sultry look, shadows from pale interior lights revealing the dark line of skin from his throat to his navel. He's tanned a little from being out in the sun every day; his complexion looks healthier than how much more pallid it seemed back on the Theorem. Hip bones are cut sharply, abdomen muscles defined, curve of a narrow waist showing just the beginning of that intimate trail of hair low on his belly.]
see? not frowning, and no wrinkles
[Oh no, too bad this got dropped into the group chat by accident.]
un: darknight, tl;dr
Because of that, and in the wake of his first ever night of drinking, it isn't too surprising to see a message come through the group chat late at night. Probably a joke from Jonas, and that thought β along with the boneless kind of tired that accompanies a long day of working β has him dropping onto his cot and immediately checking the message. From Cain? That's less expected, and the text confuses him until he opens the attached picture.
Then he's really confused.
Cain's body is something he's studied even without seeing it in any real state of undress, having felt arm muscles and taken sidelong glances at a defined chest under the useful pretense of preparing to engage an opponent. There's no shame in that, just like there's never been in his past, but it equips him at least with the knowledge that this is his body, not some fake or any setup to a joke with an underwhelming punchline. The simple obvious response to realizing this is real and clearly taken and sent by him is irritation. They've taken a recent step back from Cain's sexual messages and effective attempts to get under his skin, and he actually might've called that progress... even if now, in the wake of his last conversations with Jonas and a newfound interest in worst-case assumptions, he wonders if that wasn't Jonas's doing all along. Now here's this, with a message he doesn't understand, and were he less flustered and dealing with how that manifests quickly into anger he might lean towards this being sent by accident. Instead: ]
Why
[ Any other reaction doesn't ferret for information the way he wants to, and doesn't keep him from looking like a dumbass if he reads the situation wrong. And that picture itselfβ
It's weird. Seeing someone like Gladio shirtless every day rapidly become normalized, in the same way that Cain's sexual jokes for a moment had become simpler to take in stride. But now? Combining the two, seeing a glimpse of something he shouldn't that was created to get a reaction, makes his stomach twist into knots. This isn't different than looking at something like pornography might've been growing up, except that it is in every way because this isn't a fantasy. This is someone real, tangible, close. Someone that, in a strange way, he enjoys.
He puts the communicator down flat, suddenly, too tense to wait for any typing dots. ]
1/?
Cain's selfies (hereinafter internalized as "The Picture") accompanies a message that's so clearly for him it makes him shiver; however, a savvy member of his generation, spies where it was sent too early to fully enjoy it. And that's the greatest sin here, really. That he has to wait until this blows over to closely examine The Picture, his appreciation for the disseminator of The Picture, and how much of a shit show his life has become.
The group chat header flashes at him like a neon warning sign ("Caution, Falling Rocks"), Noctis' notification forcing him to close out of The Picture with haste.
Oh, man. Oh God, oh man, Oh God.
He feels no dread. Contrarily, it's excitement that makes his stomach tense, suddenly rising from his seat in the back of his ship to pace a hole in the floor. Cain wouldn't have sent The Picture purposely to them both... right? There's no way. Not after the talk he had with him about Noctis' firm boundaries, and certainly not when their entanglement is only semi-public.
What the fuck does he do with this? Respond? Get angry? Express interest while remaining cool and aloof? Ignore it entirely and text a complimentary aside to Cain, who looks like a Greek God?
... Briefly admires The Picture again before owning up to his part of the chaos. )
Hi
Okay
So
This is probably the most embarrassing way to say this but this was for me
Highly unintentional
I am so sorry you had to see this
2/4
Disgusting
That's not what I'm implying because it's not I just think there was a miscommunication/misfire that wasn't actually planned
Please disregard
3/4
Like I can just delete all of these messages
Totally my bad for not renaming the group chat to something extremely recognizable
Thank you
4/4
ππ»
1/2
He has the chat open in front of him when Jonas's messages start rolling in, immediately intending to assuage the situation β but Cain's eyes keep sticking on that one message, darknight: Why, like he's waiting for something else to come. There's a brief, cold feeling in the pit of his stomach he can't really identify in the moment, but he knows he's felt it before. Maybe it's dread, because whatever tenuous neutrality he's reached with Noctis is surely over and done with now. Backward several steps to the start. And Jonas, too, for all of his rambling β he's probably disappointed. Pissed, even if he's not showing it here in the group chat.
It's not like he's embarrassed by The Picture. If there's anything he has confidence in, it would be his body. In the strictly physical sense, it's kept him alive β whether through fighting or sex or all other demands he's made of it. But this isn't what he wanted to do.
God, he fucks everything up sooner or later.]
2/2
look, i deleted it
won't happen again.
[Hope whoever wanted to save The Picture have already done so, because scrolling up they'll find it to be true: Message deleted right there where his glorious abs used to be.]
no subject
And Cain isn't far behind.
So they're closer than he thought. Does that matter? They're friends, and it's not his job to worry about if Jonas is seriously in a good position for more β or even if Cain is, given their respective recent histories. It just makes their time together with all three of them feel... different, which is as unfair as it is unavoidable. ]
Relax
It was an accident, got it. So take it to dms
Later
1/2
That's the whole point of a misfire
But okay
2/2
You said it's an accident, it's an accident
We're good
I'll text you later, okay?
No huge issue at all dw
ππ»ππ»ππ»ππ»ππ»
no subject