okteiviakom | The Deck of the Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Thursday Evening

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The Deck of the Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Thursday Evening

Yesterday hadn't been great. Much like Lucifer, Octavia had come back to the Rouge for the night, but mostly because not doing so unannounced was something she was trying not to do, while doing so announced had felt like it would invite too many questions and make it all into far bigger of a deal than it had to be.

So she'd dragged her drunk self home. And in the morning, had made her hungover self stay with them all through breakfast. And then when the time had come for Duke to head into work, she'd taken off. Disappeared into the preserve, because if there was a place that could fix at least some of what she'd been feeling this week, it was there.

No comments on whether it had worked at all. But she was back, now. Sitting on one of the crates on the deck of the ship, holding a bottle of beer that she'd picked up from the Samsara, along with the sweater she'd stolen from Duke back when she'd moved back onto her own boat.

She hadn't gone below decks, yet. Hadn't announced her arrival, if anyone else was even in.

It was quiet, in the port. And she just wanted to listen to this silence for at least a few moments longer.

[ooc: Opennn.]

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Octavia wasn't pouting. But wasn't entirely not pouting?

Look, something was up with her bottom lip as she kept looking up at Duke. "Come on, jaka."

Duke rocked slightly on his feet, his hands fisting and reopening at his sides. Even he couldn't say exactly why he was hesitating.

(Except that sitting in Lucifer's lap would make him feel small, protected. Except that the nest was where they'd wrapped themselves around him when he didn't have any defenses left. Except that he'd worked so hard in the last few days to put his walls back up that he was terrified of them coming down again.)

"Should probably clean all that up at some point," he said, looking away.

If he went to them now, those walls were going to come down hard and he wasn't sure he could put them back up again after.

The last of the playfulness seeped out of Lucifer's expression, replaced largely by confusion. "Maybe later," he said, "There's hardly any rush, is there?"

Octavia had been so ready to keep on cajoling - and then Duke went and said that, and all the softness drained from her face as she stared at him.

"Should probably move back to the Samsara already, anyway," she said, her voice flat and dry as she moved to try and get up from Lucifer's lap.

This ridiculous nest was - had been - her safe spot, but if Duke was talking about it like it was just a mess to clean up...

. . . Well shit.

Their reactions hurt, in a way Duke didn’t know how to verbalize. He stayed glued to his spot, head still turned away, hands still fisting and opening at his sides. He opened his mouth once then let it shut. His eyes burned.

He was ruining this. Again. Why hadn’t he just played along?

"Octavia," Lucifer said, preoccupied first by tugging her back into his lap.

Gently. She could get out of his grip if she really wanted to.

"Duke?" was the next thing out of his mouth. Names it was, then.

Octavia didn't actually want to, was the thing. So she let him tug her in, let him keep her there. It was the first step out of the first-impulse reaction.

Her eyes were on Duke's hands, now.

"I --" Duke said. He still wasn't looking at them. He shoved the heel of his hand roughly at his eye, trying to smear away any evidence of tears.

This was stupid. Why the fuck was he crying? They were just messing around on his boat.

(He wondered how often they'd done that while he was missing. Nathan had messed around with Sarah while he was dealing with Roy -- that was the only time he could have fathered the Colorado Kid. How many times had his loved ones found comfort in each other while he was being knocked out and tied up and generally knocked around by the world?)

"I need a drink."

He finally shoved into motion, stepping around the nest towards his liquor cabinet. Had Lucifer refilled it, yet?

Not entirely, but the drip-feed of bottles over the past week had certainly built up some small collection.

Lucifer threw Octavia a worried glance.

Maybe he should have gotten up. "I brought in some bourbon this afternoon," he said, muted.

Octavia was still staring after Duke. But her expression was starting to tilt towards worried now, too.

Maybe she should've gotten up after all.

Duke grabbed the first bottle at hand from the cabinet without really looking at it, took a swig without really tasting it.

"Thanks."

He still wasn't looking at them.

Lucifer sighed and shot Octavia another, more apologetic, look.

Then he shifted and tried to get up from under her.

As Octavia moved off his lap, not really looking at him, something felt cold. Not... physically.

Just did.

Sitting on just the blankets now, she ran her hand through her hair. Tried to summon up the energy to not leave this up to Lucifer.

Oh good. Now he was ruining their fun.

Pull yourself together, man.

“Don’t let me stop you two.”

"Do you really expect that line to work at this point?" Lucifer asked, approaching him.

Very carefully reaching out for his shoulder.

There hadn't been time for any fun to even begin.

Octavia rose to her feet, slowly and quietly.

Duke's shoulder jerked, half-flinch, half-barely contained urge to shrug him off. He wanted them to hold him. To make him feel safe. He didn't know why he was resisting so hard.

(Because he needed his walls. His walls had been all he'd had for so long.)

He ended up frozen again, holding so carefully still, bottle halfway to his mouth.

"Can take care of myself."

He said it as much to himself as to them.

"Well, obviously you can, you are a whole grown adult human," Lucifer said, thoughts darting briefly to someone else flinching at his touch, and-- dropped his hand. "But you don't actually have to."

"Didn't have to be about that to begin with," Octavia muttered. Mostly to herself.

The tiny hurt part of her was still trying to urge her to just go. The rest of her knew better, for once.

And ached for other reasons.

If she left now, it . . . would be bad. Yes.

Duke jerked again when Lucifer let go, and let out a shuddering breath.

"I don't actually know how to do this," he said apologetically.

"That much is obvious," Lucifer said, leaning against the counter in a naked attempt to get a look at Duke's face. Thought about what to say.

Ugh, why were these conversations always so difficult? What would the good doctor say?

"Look, you're clearly going through something right now," he said, "You can talk to us about it, or just join us in make-out tussling on the blankets, or-- I don't know, literally anything that isn't clearly going through something while aggressively telling us you're not, because that's the least helpful thing you could possibly do."

He reached for the bottle Duke had grabbed. "Neither of us are here primarily out of a fondness for boats," he said. "Frankly, there are less sway-y places for Octavia and I to snog."

Octavia considered Lucifer's abandoned bottle of whiskey by the nest. She chose not to reach for it, though.

She was watching them now, quietly.

And moved slowly closer.

"How --" Duke started, and stopped again when the word came out choked. He turned, gesturing to the nest. "-- You two --" His eyes were burning again. "-- A-and I'm --"

"Are extremely attractive people with severe emotional damage, yes, I know," Lucifer said. He took a swig from the bottle. "All three of us."

"Agreed," Octavia rasped, as she came to a stop right by them.

She didn't reach for either of them, though. Not yet, anyway.

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