He is not obligated to take it. It is his choice, not yours.
[ At least he's not yelling anymore, even if he is seeing red. No. The next time he speaks, he's gone very, very quiet. ]
I remember, Washington, what it is to be told how lucky you are to have someone. How grateful you should feel that someone hold interest in you. I know how much I grew to resent it, and to resent how I felt.
[It always comes back to Felix, doesn't it. One death for that man was not nearly enough.]
[His tone is as calm as he can make it, because at least one of them needs that calm.]
You realize there's a huge difference between calling someone out on their bullshit and putting them on a leash. This conversation is nowhere near the latter option. You are nowhere near the latter option.
But, it's good that you recognize it. [Credit where credit is due.]
I'm not planning on telling him that he should be fucking grateful that you like him, and I doubt you are either. I plan on telling him he's making a shitty decision for shitty reasons, because as his friend, it's my responsibility to call him out when he does dumb things. That's what friends do.
[Egg on the shitty decisions that are small and hilarious, try to prevent the ones that are life-altering.]
[ Some of that anger simmers and dissipates, and he falls silent for a time, listening to Wash as he speaks. He only knows what he's lived, and it's not the best example to go by, granted.
But the fear is there. He could hurt York, quite severely, and worst of all without intending to. ]
Would it be so terrible if we remained friends? If he could be unafraid for a time.
How long do you think that'll last? You're attracted to each other, you both know the feelings are mutual, and you're already very touchy-feely.
...which I'm pretty sure is mostly York's fault, but still. Better to cement it now, with mutual understanding, than pine for each other and fall in bed together the first time you both get drunk.
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[ At least he's not yelling anymore, even if he is seeing red. No. The next time he speaks, he's gone very, very quiet. ]
I remember, Washington, what it is to be told how lucky you are to have someone. How grateful you should feel that someone hold interest in you. I know how much I grew to resent it, and to resent how I felt.
[ We need each other. ]
I will not be that to him. Do you understand me?
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[His tone is as calm as he can make it, because at least one of them needs that calm.]
You realize there's a huge difference between calling someone out on their bullshit and putting them on a leash. This conversation is nowhere near the latter option. You are nowhere near the latter option.
But, it's good that you recognize it. [Credit where credit is due.]
I'm not planning on telling him that he should be fucking grateful that you like him, and I doubt you are either. I plan on telling him he's making a shitty decision for shitty reasons, because as his friend, it's my responsibility to call him out when he does dumb things. That's what friends do.
[Egg on the shitty decisions that are small and hilarious, try to prevent the ones that are life-altering.]
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But the fear is there. He could hurt York, quite severely, and worst of all without intending to. ]
Would it be so terrible if we remained friends? If he could be unafraid for a time.
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...which I'm pretty sure is mostly York's fault, but still. Better to cement it now, with mutual understanding, than pine for each other and fall in bed together the first time you both get drunk.
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[ Not entirely without incident, but. Alright. Wash has a decent point there.
There's the sound of Locus shifting, in lieu of talk. Thinking. ]
I can be here if he decides otherwise. Anything more and...
[ There are lines. Boundaries. He's learning. ]
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[He's pretty audibly joking - time shenanigans don't really count.]
[But Locus' next words are serious, and he takes them as such.]
Got it.
This is why it's my job to yell at him when he's being an idiot. It'll be yours once you master the fine art of telling York he's a jackass.
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Only he could be the judge of that.