Affectionate Comfort Mashup Meme take 2

[lucifine]

The Affectionate Comfort Mashup Meme
or: an excuse for physical affection threads



Basically, mix and match as you like or do whatever the hell you want.

Post your name and canon and preferences and go the fuck at it.

Want even wilder ideas? Try this fun hurt comfort plot generator.

HURT COMFORT PROMPTS

1. INJURY. You've been injured. Broken bones or bleeding out or maybe just a tiny little papercut. The choice is yours.
2. SICKNESS. You're sick and laid up in bed, at home or in a hospital. The severity is up to you.
3. FEAR/ANXIETY. Something is happening and you're scared beyond belief.
4. LOSS OF SENSES. Sight, touch, taste, hearing, smell, etc. You've lost some important sense or ability and now you're left to deal with it.
5. DESPAIR. Nothing is good or right anymore and you can't shake the depression. Maybe that friend of yours can help though...
6. BREAKUP. You've been dumped. You need someone to comfort you, possibly by the one who dumped you.
7. MAKE UP. Fight or break up, it's time to makeup.
8. RESCUED. You've just been held captive and/or tortured for however long and finally, someone has come to the rescue.
9. BAD ROMANCE. Fight, cheated on, abused, whatever the case is, someone else can clearly see you need comfort from someone who isn't your terrible lover tonight.
10. LOSS. You've experience a loss of some kind and need help getting through it.
11. INSANITY. You're seeing things that aren't really there, hearing voices, or you're just convinced you're at your wit's end finally and you're going to crack. Maybe someone can give you a helping hand.
12. TIRED. You've had a heard life recently and you're just worn too thin to really care anymore. There's no fight left in you anymore. Can someone help change your mind?
13. ADDICTION. Drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, or any other type of addiction has got you in its grasp. First time or relapse. Will someone be able to save you?
14. INSOMNIA. You can't sleep anymore, no matter how hard you try. Maybe someone can give you company.
15. NIGHTMARES. Or, on the other end of the spectrum, you can't sleep without gruesome, horrible nightmares. Either someone is stuck in your dream with you, witnessing it or they're just waking you up, soothing you out of it.
16. BLACKMAIL. You've been caught doing something you shouldn't and you were blackmailed because of it
17. SEPARATION. You're going to be separated for awhile or were separated for a long time. Either make up for lost time or try to spend every last moment together.
18. VIOLATED. You've been violated in some way. Can include sexual overtones or not. Can someone help you through it?
19. STRANDED. You've been stranded somewhere remote, with no help of anyone finding you for awhile. Can you survive this together?
20. SINS. You're feeling the weight of your sins and guilt clearer than ever. Can someone give you absolution or lessen the ache any?
21. SECRET. It's difficult having to keep that secret of yours, be it a relationship or something you just don't want to share with anybody else. Maybe it's okay to talk about it now though...
22. ADDITION. Babies should be joyous things unless you're in a situation where you know you won't be able to care for them. Either you've adopted or found out you're pregnant.
23. AMNESIA. What it says on the tin. Why do these come with such detailed responses?

AFFECTIONATE PHYSICAL CONTACT PROMPTS

one; hugging. you just want to give your loved one a warm embrace. be it out of happiness, to comfort them while they're down, or just to give them something warm to latch onto, you just want to wrap your arms around them.

two; kissing. whether it's a peck on the cheek or a deep kiss, a kiss good-bye or a romantic kiss, you find yourself compelled to kiss the other person! be as tender or as passionate as you so choose.

three; holding hands. it's a simple gesture, really -- to reach out and take someone's hand. but that one simple gesture can convey any number of sentiments. what the sentiment is, is up to you, but you find yourself reaching out to take your significant other's hand.

four; carrying. is your loved one hurt and needs a lift? do they want a piggyback ride? or do you just want to spare them the effort of walking? whatever the reason, you're now itching to pick up your partner and carry them to their destination.

five; i love you. you've said it before or maybe you haven't but now you have to say it again or for the first time.

six; dancing. kick up the music, because it's time to dance! but no lone dancing allowed -- you need to have a partner! you can do whatever dance strikes your fancy. personally, i recommend the slow dance, but you can do whatever you want!

seven; massaging. did your significant other have a rough day? did they get hurt? or do you just feel like doing something really nice for them? whatever it is, you're giving them a nice massage now. they'll feel wonderful in no time!

eight; flirting. the easiest way to break the ice or maybe you're just an overly flirty person.

nine; cuddling. sometimes there's just no better feeling than curling up next to each other on a warm sofa. hold each other, lie next to each other, fall asleep on each other -- it's all good here.

ten; wild card! reroll, pick an option, or come up with something else!

Comments

[humblecowboy]

You were a special case. Still are.

[And then, with all the candor of a man who has recently remembered a relevant word, he adds—]

Probationary.

Besides. You a fan of having dinner, or what?

[In the end it's a battle Spike is well aware he is going to lose— but he can't let it look like he's okay with that, no, that will give everyone the impression he cares.]

[bolderfell]

[Therion doesn't let up his study of Spike's face.]

...I can make dinner happen either way.

[Potentially, even in a way that won't trigger an entire ex-cop morality crisis in Jet.

The thing about whatever's happening right now is that Spike's an inherently better liar than Therion. That's true even outside of the stupid medium of words, none of which mean much to Therion anymore. Spike can lie with his tone and body language in ways even Therion, suspicious and kinetically-oriented as he is, misses. What Spike is thinking and feeling are completely opaque right now.

What he's noticed, however, is that Spike has avoided looking at him while he pretends to be oh so casual. That bothers him. Spike is pretending, redirecting his attention, which means that this is actually a Big Deal.

Therion knows why it would be for him, personally. It wasn't so long ago he was the one cramped into a hidey-hole with his back to another boy's chest, trying to pinpoint the sounds of danger over their wildly pounding hearts. For Spike...

Well, what do any of them know about Spike? The main thing Therion knows is that the more he talks, the more material he gives Spike to dodge and build cover.

So he doesn't say anything else. He just waits to see what Spike decides to fill the silence with.]

[humblecowboy]

Oh yeah?

And how do you do that, exactly?

[Spike asks, tilting his head and rearranging in his seat to face Therion with an attitude that borderline condescends in its challenging. He doesn't wait for Therion to answer, obviously struck by a point.]

Grabbing the woos off some grandma who's put together the last of hers for a birthday gift? Hoping the person you catch is rich enough to sustain themselves without the thousand you found hanging out of their sleeve?

Or did one of us start doing honest work without telling me?

[bolderfell]

I didn't say it was honest. I said it was dinner.

[Therion doesn't rise to Spike's challenge, his voice even and too low to carry beyond their conversation.]

Doesn't have to hinge on the kid. That's all I'm saying.

[humblecowboy]

Hinges on using somebody.

[A sigh, and then a moment of defeat;]

But it probably won't be him, no.

[bolderfell]

[Therion nods, letting the silence stretch once more. This time it's more about giving Spike some space than dragging another admission out of him.]

...You okay?

[humblecowboy]

[Spike turns his head immediately to look at Therion head on for the first real time the whole conversation. His eyes alert suggest surprise, but his jaw ajar and half cocked to the side suggest some kind of irritation.]

Huh?

[And then, he lies.]

I'm fine. I'm just— hungry.

[He always gets away with that one.]

[bolderfell]

[It's actually not a look he isn't used to seeing. Well, maybe not the way Spike wears it exactly; somehow, that's very him and no one else. But for something raw to sit just out of his reach, for a veneer of innocence to sit over defensiveness over something probably worth cutting him over...

Well. It's familiar enough. Therion takes it in, blinking once, and then inclines his head just a hair.]

All right.

[He gets up then and walks silently to the galley. After a moment, the distinctive sound of chopping something that isn't meat comes through. Both of them have probably had to learn to hear the difference.]

[humblecowboy]

[...

Most of his life, Spike has been able to force himself to ignore the different sounds of people doing things that aren't his business. But then, when you start to care about someone, their business starts to become yours.

Gross.

Despite that, Spike still finds himself leaning on one of the walls of the galley, watching Therion.]

What're you up to?

[bolderfell]

[By way of answer, Therion simply pops an apple slice into his mouth, pushes the other slices on a plate and a jar of peanut butter into Spike's chest, and walks back to where they'd been, crunching all the way.]

Numthin'.

[Look at that, a prezzie from Therion.]

[humblecowboy]

[Spike stops, staring at the snack in his hand, then looks up at the ceiling. He's been got, he's been had, stupid white haired boys reaching into his heart and reminding him hello, you have one, and you have to use it for more than just your fantasies of lost self-worth. Spike saunters back over, setting the snack down and sitting with Therion, and after a quiet moment of contemplative crunching on an apple slice, Spike prompts; ]

You think your new friend down there's hungry, too?

[bolderfell]

Probably.

[This time, Therion sits in more of a ball, legs drawn up, arms tucked inside his hoodie. Jet's not here to tell him not to put his feet on the furniture, and what Jet doesn't know won't hurt him. Where Spike might be able to fake nonchalance, Therion just closes his eyes. Easier that way.]

I always was, at that age.

[humblecowboy]

Yeah. Me too.

[Spike bounces his brows, pops another slice of apple in his mouth.]

...Jet probably won't mind, if you wanna bring him something.

And if he does, you can tell him I put you up to it.

[bolderfell]

[A soft huff.]

Jet will want to do it himself. It'll be better for the kid if only one of us big lugs is acting friendly. Besides, he bit me.

[On the hand. Therion needs his hands.]

You haven't bitten me yet. Feeding you is enough.

[humblecowboy]

[Spike can't help but lose his composure, snickering to himself. He did bite him.]

Well, lucky for you I have no desire to consume human flesh. Your hands are safe.

[For now, and for the future. He hopes.]

[bolderfell]

Hmm.

[As if either taking that promise to heart or testing it, Therion frees one hand (the unbitten one) to sneak another apple slice. He scoops a glob of peanut butter directly out of the jar with it and only then pops it into his face. Nomp.

The movement leaves him closer to Spike than before.]

I don't make good eating, anyway. Too bony. And full of knives.

[None of which he used on the boy, but, y'know. Maybe if he'd kept trying to chew on him.]

[humblecowboy]

[Spike closes his eyes, turns his head slowly to face Therion properly, and lets his jaw hang agape. Oh, he did not.

Spike scrapes the peanut butter off his face with the pad of his thumb, moving immediately to deposit it back on his offender's own face. He hovers above his seat, leaning over in his attempt and threatening;]

Hold on, let's see if this doesn't make you taste better—!

[bolderfell]

[Uh-oh, he's in danger. Therion initially jerks back and draws his legs up more, ready to kick if he needs to. But in a split-second change of plans, he looks Spike right in the eyes, darts forward, and licks the peanut butter right off his thumb. Not even in a really sexy way, just. VLORP, no more peanut butter.

Wild dogs, man. City strays. Waste not, want not.]

[humblecowboy]

[Spike makes an indescribable noise of disgust, but in no way backs down. Instead, he smears his now spit-lined thumb on Therion's face, his own cartoonishly offended in expression, and gripes—]

Auugh, take it back—

[bolderfell]

No.

[If Therion really wanted to get away, they both know he could--and would. He'd pull a knife, Spike would back off, glares and posturing would be traded according to their differing rates of exchange, and then they'd settle and things would go back to normal.

Instead, Therion wipes his cheek on his hoodie and balls up tighter, defending himself with only his crossed arms and his sleeves and--

Laughing. Quietly, but yeah. Laughing.]

[humblecowboy]

[It's a sound that demands pause, that demands hesitation and a smile in response, that Spike will likely only give too much thought too long after the moment's paused, but Spike hears it. A laugh, out of Therion. How rare and precious.

With his cheek successfully smeared even if it's been wiped, Spike gives Therion a playful shove finally and ruffles his hair, letting him free.]

Yeah, we'll see if you try that again.

[but his threat is empty, his voice warm.]

[bolderfell]

[For the subtlest of half-seconds, Therion's body follows Spike's, leaning after the warmth of his hand as though after a middling magnetic charge. He right himself without calling attention to it, turns the movement into straightening up and smoothing his hair back down. Still in the playful spirit of the moment, he drawls:]

Right. Sure showed me.

[With his arms still crossed defensively, it's hard--not impossible, but hard--to make out how his lower, farther hand slips into a trick seam in his hoodie. There's a pocket there just large enough to hide a keyring or a wallet, if Spike hasn't been careful.

(Or maybe Therion hasn't lifted anything off Spike and just wants to tease him if he checks.)]

[humblecowboy]

[Spike seems to notice— perhaps even lets Therion watch him observe over his nose, look up at Therion's eyes and question. But as soon as he asks that question with his eyes, she seems to decide— no, he won't ask it, after all. Instead, he leans back into his own seat with a smile, still turned toward Therion, body language open and loose.]

And I'll show you again, too. Try me.

[But despite his playful threats, he's not giving off much a vibe of threatening or even moving much at all. He's content to let Therion play his little trick— or perhaps actively choosing to give Therion an inch of trust. A little experimental challenge— what will you do if you think I don't notice? what happens if I don't accuse?]

1/2

[bolderfell]

[Oh.

Well. That's.

...]

2/2

[bolderfell]

[Not something with which Therion knows what to do, apparently. Uncertainty softens the corners of his eyes, the customary tautness of his shoulders, as he takes in this unexpected non-reaction. He puffs a breath through his nose, then, and deliberately sinks further into his seat.]

I try to learn my lessons the first time, thanks.

[Whatever he's taken--if he's truly taken anything--remains in that hidden pocket, his for the keeping. With his eyes closed again, he could be sulking the sulk of the defeated, but an echo of that laugh of his still lingers around the edges.

If this is what an inch of Spike's trust looks like, Therion's choosing neither to stick a knife in it nor pry it wider open. He's letting it be, unmolested--untouched by anything even as light as his gaze.]

Hey. Eat your apple or I will.