summerdude | I Lose All Sense Of Reason [open post]

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I Lose All Sense Of Reason [open post]

Magnus is walking down the front steps of the Mansion, freshly-loaded bag of food in tow, ruminating on a few of his most recent and devastatingly embarrassing conversations, when he hears footsteps behind him.

Well. He did tell Galahad he'd ask everyone. Might as well start now. "Can you explain the birds and the bees -- I mean, sex -- to me?" he demands, even before he sees who it is.

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"Go on."

"Oh, you know. Obsessed with the Norse gods and the afterlife even though he had no personal connection to them besides, like, his sister; big fan of trying to sacrifice his nephew for personal gain wherever he could... spurned his living family for his dead when given the chance." Magnus shrugs. "The ush."

"Of course, the uzh." His gaze is a touch more tender, but the matter of fact way that Magnus relays his history makes Sagramore think he'd prefer not to have much made of it. "He sounds less like an edgelord and more like an asshole, if I'm honest."

"Oh, he was definitely both," Magnus says. "If I could, I'd show you a picture of his study before we turned his house into the Chase Space, and you'd be like 'Wow! What a fucking edgelord this guy must be!'"

"You're well rid of him, then."

Magnus isn't so sure about all that, but he also doesn't really want to get into it. Still, he squints at Sagramore suspiciously for a moment. Oh, he knows Sagramore's a lot older than he is, even with the lack-of-aging thing factored in, but mostly until this point he's been thinking about Sagramore as friend-shaped. Which he is! But Magnus has a sneaking suspicion that Sagramore might also be an adult-shaped adult. It's weird that there's such a concentration of them here... at least three? Huh.

"Edgelords aside," he says, "I think you know a lot more about poetry than I do. Any recommendations? In Valhalla they really just leaned into the skaldic stuff."

If Sagramore knew what Magnus was thinking he would be extraordinarily touched. As it is, he takes out the other two books in his pack. "I prefer a poem without a narrative as such, so less like the Skaldic poems, to be honest. I like something that's evocative of a moment, or an experience. If you like, you can borrow these books."

"I would like," Magnus says, enthusiastically. "You don't mind?"

"No, not at all, I brought them on the chance you'd want to."

"I would." Magnus is a little overwhelmed, actually, between this Sagramore being an adult-shaped-adult revelation and the entire sequence of their conversation. He looks over at the guy. "Can I give you a hug?"

He looks surprised for a split-second, and then his expression turns warm, and he slows his bouncing to a stop. "Absolutely. Come here."

So Magnus makes his way across the trampoline. He's getting a sense of who can and who can't withstand the full force of his hugs, here, so when he throws his arms around Sagramore's middle he only gives him about 25% of his strength.

Sagramore would protest that he could stand more, but with the lack of balance the trampoline causes it's probably best that Magnus dials it back. Regardless, he wraps his arms around Magnus' shoulders and pulls him into a solid hug.

"Thanks, dude," Magnus says, after a minute, moving back. "Wow, you're like, as tall as Hanguang-jun, huh?"

"I'm tall," with a laugh. "Not quite as tall as he is, but only by a few centimeters."

"Still pretty close," Magnus says, nodding.

"Are my hugs as good?"

"I'm pretty new to liking hugs," Magnus admits. "I don't even know where to start comparing."

"That's fine. It's not a competition," says the man who would have absolutely teased Lan Wangji if Magnus had given him the ammunition.

"Let me try again on solid ground," Magnus says, thoughtfully, bouncing over to the edge of the trampoline and hopping off. As always, it takes him a second to adjust to the lack of give, standing on the ground.

He laughs. "Very well," following suit; when he lands on the ground he sighs. "Ah, fully mortal again. Come here, have another."

This time, Magnus gives him about 50% of his full strength. Sagramore feels nice to hug, that's for sure!

The main barrier to him giving a perfect hug is that he's too thin, and there's not much squish to his body; if it weren't for that, he'd be pretty good. He does embrace back warmly -- he has no shortage of warmth.

Oh, so it turns out Sagramore's build is a lot like Magnus's! Except he's miles taller. Magnus died before he could finish all his growth spurts.

"I rate your hugs a 10 out of 10," he tells Sagramore, eventually; he's not bothered by the lack of squish.

"It is an honor to be evaluated and found pleasing," Sagramore answers, the extravagance of the statement tempered by the fact that he means it.

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summerdude - 2024-01-17 01:07 (UTC) - Expand

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