There's a fond warmth in Arthur's chest at the sight of John burying his face under Sheehan's chin, purring like a damn car engine, that John will be able to feel as a quiet, steady chord progression.
When Sheehan goes for the bottle, though, Arthur puts his hand on his, trapping the bottle for a moment.
"Were you going to tell me what happened with John, before?" And his voice is only soft compassion. "I know you didn't mean to. That you were stressed and got startled."
He pauses, looking to John and then back at Arthur. "I assumed John had told you. To spare me having to say it," he admits, immediately choking on the words.
His arm shifts on Sheehan's shoulder to comb softly through his hair. "He did, and I am glad for it. But that just means I know John is alright. We're both worried about you. I don't even know how long it's been since you've used a gun, but- regardless. It's still terrifying, to shoot someone you care about."
"A convincing argument if ever there was one," he mumbles.
And he takes one of Sheehan's hands himself to gently massage again.
"Parker made me get a gun license, you know," he says, with quiet and inordinate fondness. "When he finally convinced me to join the business officially. Said it was a vital tool of the trade." He lowers his voice a little for it, channeling the Boston accent, and he can't help but chuckle. "I'd learned how to use a dummy rifle in the Brigade, of course, but, er. Well, my first time actually using it, I locked up - if Parker hadn't nearly broken my knee getting me to duck I'd probably be short a few things north of my chin."
Sheehan laughs because holy shit that accent is terrible, but also the thought of Arthur struggling with the gun makes him smile.
"I was a crack shot at basic," he explains, relaxing with the cat in one hand and Arthur massaging the other. "But when it came to actually using it against someone - hated it. Like I said, the only time I fired at someone up close was - we were in the desert. It was hot, so fucking hot that the boys were dropping like flies.
"And they rushed us. I fired nearly point blank, and the heat made the hit so clean that it went straight through him. I swear I saw him turn around and watch the bullet go through the other side."
"Heat, and- and stress and panic do things to our minds," he says softly. Bringing Sheehan's hand up to kiss his knuckles - while his other hand rubs John's ear, so he doesn't feel left out. "But taking a life is... I don't think it ever stops being difficult. And the fact that it's shaken you so thoroughly speaks volumes of your good character."
"You don't have to reassure me, but I appreciate it all the same," he says to both of them. "No, John. Nothing you did made it worse. I made it worse in my head."
He takes a hand from John, just to go for the bottle again. No more ruining his good time.
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Re: After the flood!
When Sheehan goes for the bottle, though, Arthur puts his hand on his, trapping the bottle for a moment.
"Were you going to tell me what happened with John, before?" And his voice is only soft compassion. "I know you didn't mean to. That you were stressed and got startled."
Re: After the flood!
Re: After the flood!
John's still in place, still purring, rubbing his face against Sheehan's jaw.
Re: After the flood!
Re: After the flood!
"It's always - that. I'd only shot one person up close before I came here."
Re: After the flood!
Do you want to talk about it?
Re: After the flood!
Re: After the flood!
"I'm alright. There isn't anything to say about it. I am not good with a gun. Never have been."
Re: After the flood!
Here.
And Sheehan will feel a couple more spells filter in. One to resist being hurt... and another to move quickly.
Re: After the flood!
And he takes one of Sheehan's hands himself to gently massage again.
"Parker made me get a gun license, you know," he says, with quiet and inordinate fondness. "When he finally convinced me to join the business officially. Said it was a vital tool of the trade." He lowers his voice a little for it, channeling the Boston accent, and he can't help but chuckle. "I'd learned how to use a dummy rifle in the Brigade, of course, but, er. Well, my first time actually using it, I locked up - if Parker hadn't nearly broken my knee getting me to duck I'd probably be short a few things north of my chin."
Re: After the flood!
"I was a crack shot at basic," he explains, relaxing with the cat in one hand and Arthur massaging the other. "But when it came to actually using it against someone - hated it. Like I said, the only time I fired at someone up close was - we were in the desert. It was hot, so fucking hot that the boys were dropping like flies.
"And they rushed us. I fired nearly point blank, and the heat made the hit so clean that it went straight through him. I swear I saw him turn around and watch the bullet go through the other side."
Re: After the flood!
Re: After the flood!
Re: After the flood!
He takes a hand from John, just to go for the bottle again. No more ruining his good time.
Re: After the flood!
We'll have to dance again next time.
Only to Sheehan.