five times lennie scowled + one time they didn't: pt. two

With that wild, dark hair and those greenish-brown eyes that caught the light, Tom and David must have made a beautiful, if contrasting, picture together. David's eyes were pale blue, his hair a deep gold—

five times lennie scowled + one time they didn't: pt. two
Photo by Mike Cho / Unsplash

or, lennie contemplates envy

This one is also after Unfair Winds concludes. No spoilers, really, unless you count brief references to Lennie's stepfather and (ghost) Alastair, or the way Theo's skin goes missing in Like Silk Breathing...

Truly a cut scene in more ways than one.

/end dad joke x


Truly, it was a lot of blood for such a comparatively small cut.

Hands always bleed so much, though, thought Lennie, who was no stranger to altercations and minor stabbings. They'd never been stabbed; they were too fast to catch. But they'd witnessed a few in their time, and like almost any person on God's green earth, they'd cut their hands in some accident or another.

"David, how is it you can talk to the dead and still, a little bit of blood drives you to... no. No, you don't."

David's eyes crossed just slightly as his skin went a little ashen, and Lennie guided him to sit in the softest, closest chair. A green paisley wingback, it was positioned near the unlit fireplace. Normally, it was occupied. The Shuck's taproom was quiet now, but it might not be for long. Summer was well and truly upon them.

"What happened?" Tom Apollyon's quiet voice preceded him, and he came into Lennie's sight quickly enough, bearing a small pile of clean rags used to wipe down the bar.

"He'll be all right," said Lennie. He'd been foolish and grabbed a pair of bookbinder scissors at the wrong end, which was a mistake anyone could make. The trouble was, blood made David go faint, and he couldn't take things out of packed boxes if he was bleeding. Or if he'd fainted.

So far, in the months they'd resided together, Lennie noted the tendency after David had a nosebleed at home, then again when Benson suffered a cut from a letter opener here at The Shuck. Twice was enough: both times roused the same pallid skin and shallow breathing.

This is the same man who once imagined he could murder your stepfather. Seeing as David had not succeeded in his more ruthless plans, it felt rather pointless to ask if he'd considered only bloodless ways of killing.

They sighed and looked at Tom, whose expression seemed serene enough in the face of David's small plight. Then, it was possible Tom understood how much David disliked the sight of blood. They'd known each other since childhood.

"He reached for those over there, without looking," Lennie nodded to the offensive scissors on a table to David's left, "and got them on the sharp part."

"I should have looked," said David weakly.

It was all Lennie could do not to chuckle at his weak tone, for he actually had fortitude in abundance.

No one would know at this moment. Here he was, sounding as though he'd been felled in battle.

"Well, whatever you do, don't look at your hand," Lennie said. They shouldn't have said it, because David did look directly at his hand, which was dripping thin rivulets of blood as he held it below his heart.

A beginner's mistake.

Lennie grabbed David's wrist and brought his hand up, resting it gently on the armrest, careful of the fabric. The chair was stained in places, but there was no need to add to them. "Tom?" they asked.

"Just a moment," he replied, now kneeling behind the bar, where a number of things were kept for small or on-the-job injuries. Fights were uncommon in The Shuck because the landlords—Tom and his uncle, Paul—were known not to tolerate them, and recent rumors said the pub seemed to have a new specter. It did, of course, but that specter was far more interested in Paul than anybody's petty bickering or threats of glassing.

Without another word, Tom came to them both and started tending to David's hand. Lennie wasn't displeased; it let them carry on petting David's wrist.

"You know," said David, eyeing the top of Tom's hatless head with a vague frown, "I'm still amazed you do kind things for me."

Quiet, Lennie knew it was best to let the two of them talk of such things. Last winter had been, by all accounts, taxing for Tom and Theo due to David's rather temperamental grasp on romance. Some of the strife happened because of Theo's reticence to leave David, and a little must have been related to David and Tom's liaisons when they'd been younger men.

But a large part couldn't have been anything but David's stubbornness. His pettiness, even. Though a wonderful and quite misunderstood fellow, David was sometimes the architect of his own misery, as he had been when he accidentally took and hid Theo's skin.

It hadn't been malicious. Theo himself always stressed that, and if a selkie could forgive David for such a thing, Lennie saw no reason why anybody else should hold grudges. Tom had taken a little longer to move on. But then, he and David had something of a past.

It felt fair to Lennie that Tom might be less understanding of the man who'd once broken his heart, pressed by a father who was nothing but cold.

Lennie adored David, but was not silly enough to believe he was flawless. They were sad that David had been so frightened and poorly conditioned by Mr. Mills, but they could still allow for Tom's wariness.

"I'm surprised, as well," said Tom, carefully bandaging the offending cut along the base of David's fingers. He glanced up at David and smiled, never pausing in his work while he did. As a former fisherman and dock worker, Lennie imagined he'd often tended to small mishaps like this. Bigger ones, probably. "Sometimes."

It seemed David was just as impacted by the smile as Lennie, for he gulped and said, "That's not unfair, old chap. I was dreadful, for a while."

Though they hadn't addressed the subject with David, for they were unsure how he'd take it, they'd developed a little tendre for Tom. In short, Lennie could see why David had fallen for him, now. Initially, when they'd first met him, they'd been intimidated by the younger Apollyon.

They'd felt they could never compete with him. But these days, they understood it wasn't a competition. Tom had welcomed Lennie and protected them as much as his uncle had. As much as David had.

Beyond that, David and Tom in the same room together could merit the same results as forcing a grizzled mouser and a pampered lapdog to share a bed. The cat might scratch; the dog might bark. Both might skew to either side of the bed. It just depended upon their moods.

Lennie rather enjoyed it, truth all told, and they were beginning to suspect David did himself. In small doses. As long as he had his own space where he could retreat.

Lennie knew Tom could be gruff and abrupt, and he felt so deeply for Theo that it was written on him—if anything was a competition, it was diverting his attention from his selkie. But Tom was rather mesmeric.

It was a relief not to be terribly envious. They rarely were, so when it had surfaced, it was uncomfortable. Far better to be intrigued.

Why, with that wild, dark hair and those greenish-brown eyes that caught the light, Tom and David must have made a beautiful, if contrasting, picture together. David's eyes were pale blue, his hair a deep gold—

"I'd be careful what you do with that hand."

It took a moment for Lennie to realize what Tom was saying to David. "Surely it's not so bad as all that," they said.

"No, not at all," said Tom. "It's quite shallow. No stitches needed."

"Stitches?" said David, and Lennie feared he might faint all over again.

Tom began to pack away all the little implements and supplies he'd brought out. Shaking his head, he said, "I won't be sewing you up. But it's right under the bit where the hand joins the fingers, so it'll take ages to heal if you don't mind it."

"Heavens," said David. "I'm not a child."

"Hands move so much," said Tom. "It's less that I think you're a child, though you can be quite childish, and more that I know you're a right-handed man." He didn't wink, but his voice held one. "Do your beloved a favor and don't make yourself bleed. You'll only faint, and then Lennie will have to drag you somewhere out of the way until you come to."

Lennie had known Tom just long enough to recognize his more flirtatious intonations. They scowled minutely, suddenly feeling it was a little different for Tom to flirt with David. They could admire him all they wished.

David flushed and only said, "Right." Apparently, he was not oblivious to Tom's flirtation, either.