victory_road | [Closed]

Claude pauses, genuinely considering the question. Grant would be extremely unhappy if Claude said yes when he didn't mean it, after all. "I think it'll be a long time before talking about it doesn't hurt at all," he says eventually. "But I think I can talk about it anyway. And I want to keep my promise to you."

He pats the bed next to him. "But I'd rather have you over here, if we're going to talk. And then Tempo has a selection of laps to choose from."

"Okay." Grant nods, and follows Claude's suggest to settle by his side, close enough to rest his hand next to Claude's, fingers just resting on his. "If it gets to be too much at any point, just tell me, alright? And if that does happen, I can stay or leave. Whatever will help you most."

Sorry, Grant, but Claude's not maintaining that distance. He's going to lean right against your shoulder. Tempo, meanwhile, sniffs at Grant, then decides to do a thorough exploration of just how squishy and comfortable his lap is. It's more prowling and occasional kneading than settling; Grant's just going to have to live with that for the moment.

"I can't imagine why your leaving would make me feel better," Claude says, watching Tempo absently. "But I can tell you if I can't go on, I guess." He's silent for a moment. "I'm...not really sure I know where to start, though. What do you want to hear about?"

That is no problem at all. As soon as Claude leans against him, Grant moves his hand to rest on Claude's properly, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. He'd go to pet Tempo, too, but he figures he should give him some time to settle in first.

"Mm. Wasn't sure if you'd need time alone if it got overwhelming... but if you won't, I'll keep that in mind."

He thinks for a moment before replying. He has a lot of questions, some of which have only sprung up after Claude initially promised to talk to him later - so he'll start broad, and if it's too broad he'll adjust. "How are you feeling?"

Tempo soon deems Grant appropriately comfy, but when he lays down it's a bit weirdly - he wedges himself in the crook between Grant's and Claude's legs, then starts to purr. Perhaps he's not prepared to abandon Claude entirely right now.

Claude, meanwhile, turns his hand over beneath Grant's to take his hand properly. "I think I only really needed time to myself when it was fresh," he says, after a moment. "When I was still absorbing the shock, I guess. It's as absorbed as it's going to get by now, though."

At the question of how he's feeling, Claude goes quiet for a moment. He's looking down at Tempo, at their hands, everywhere but at Grant. Finally, he speaks.

"Stupid."

Cats... well, Grant figures that's a good compromise. Claude probably needs whatever comfort he can get.

He nods slowly at Claude's confirmation that he's not likely to need more time alone, and then waits patiently for his answer. And... when he gets it, his stomach twists in sympathetic sorrow, and he squeezes Claude's hand gently.

"Oh, sweetheart... was it something he said, or just... the circumstances?"

"It's...everything." Claude closes his eyes. "No matter how I look at it, I messed up somewhere. Either I ruined things somehow the way Jaskier says I did, and I can't even see it in retrospect after everything he told me...or I didn't mess up that badly, if at all, and Jaskier's willing to be that spiteful and throw an entire relationship out the window for petty reasons, but I was fool enough to trust him and give him all the tools he'd need to hurt me. But I don't see where I went wrong with that in retrospect, either. No matter how I look at it, I screwed up, and I can't even see how I did or what I should have done differently.

"But either way...I can't afford to screw up like that. Not in my relationships, or in who I risk trusting. But if I can't even find the mistake, how am I supposed to not repeat it? If I can't even learn something useful from this, then what did I even get out of it, except from hurt? I can't even say I walked away with good memories, because the way it ended tainted them all." He squeezes Grant's hand, but it doesn't seem to be for comfort or communication; it seems almost convulsive, as if the stress of the things he's saying is expressing itself outwardly. "I screwed up somewhere but I can't see it."

It's...kind of heartbreaking, the way Claude talks. Even when Claude allows for the possibility that Jaskier was unworthy of his trust, of having a relationship with him...in his mind, it's his own fault for not perceiving this and taking the appropriate steps. Whether Claude hurt Jaskier, or Jaskier hurt Claude, Claude sees himself as the one who should have prevented it.

It's the mindset of someone who's never been able to appeal to anyone else for help or support or better treatment. The only control Claude has ever had over what happens to him is through his own actions in pursuing or preventing specific outcomes. Claude could either accept being hurt by a world that hated him, or learn how to circumvent the world's efforts to do so via his own clever maneuvering; understandably, he'd chosen the latter option.

So when he's confronted by a situation he doesn't know how he could have maneuvered through better, and been hurt...he must have failed somewhere. He must be missing something critical, must have some crucial flaw in his deeply necessary defenses, and it terrifies him.

Grant listens with his brow furrowed, watching Claude's face all the while. It really is agonizing to hear - Claude's desperation for a concrete answer, the way every ounce of tension in his body and every word from his mouth places the responsibility for the whole thing on himself.

It's a familiar kind of fear; while Grant supposes nothing he's experienced approached the scale of the circumstances that forced Claude to think the way he does, he at least understands that need to find where you went wrong in the aftermath of being hurt, what you have to do to keep it from happening again. A blown-out, trauma-warped exaggeration of the natural instinct to learn the warning signs one needs to protect oneself.

The worst part is, it's a fear Grant isn't sure he can help with in any meaningful way - which he knew was a possibility going into this, but that doesn't make it easier. No, Claude may never know for sure what went wrong. No, he might not be able to keep himself completely safe from this kind of harm in the future. He doesn't know Jaskier well enough to point out any red flags, and he doubts he would have picked up on any that Claude couldn't anyway.

He doesn't know if there's anything he can say that will help here, but he also can't say nothing. So he just... goes to hold Claude's hand between both of his as he speaks.

"I... wish I had a solution for you. I can say that I don't think you screwed up, nor do I think it was foolish to trust someone you'd grown so close to, but I know that won't change how it feels. I think when people act on impulse, like Jaskier seemed to back there... sometimes, there's no reasonable way to expect oneself to anticipate it. Which, I know is... it can be terrifying. I'm so sorry, Claude."

Edited 2021-07-30 01:46 (UTC)

"Hey." Claude leans into him a little. "If I can't figure them out, how can I expect you to solve my problems for me? Just your listening to them - to me - is enough."

He sighs. "I feel like you, probably more than anybody else, can understand this, too. Because one of the reasons I feel stupid is that...I never really had any particular reason to get close to him, or trust him. I mean, we're both charming flirts who are usually good with words, and that made it easy to connect with him and even easier to flirt with him, but...that was really it. Just thinking we were similar people, being interested in him, and enjoying his being interested in me. There wasn't anything deeper until we were already in bed together, and as early as that first night I told him things about the way my former partners treated me that I haven't even told Felix or Sylvain or Dimitri yet. And why? What the hell had he done to justify my trusting him with that?"

He squeezes Grant's hand. "From what you've told me of your exes, you've allowed some people who absolutely didn't deserve it into your life...probably from being desperate for physical intimacy, emotional intimacy, or both. And as a result, you just - weren't as picky as you could've or should've been. And I guess I did the same thing. But knowing that...knowing I showed him trust so early when he hadn't even earned any...it makes me feel like I did mess this up. That I could've played this smarter, and didn't."

"Knowing you, there must have been something making you feel like you could trust him - even if you didn't consciously identify it. Even if you really were desperate for intimacy, it's hard to imagine--"

Wait.

Grant stops mid-sentence, his brows drawing together as his brain catches up to a particular piece of information in there.

"--He knew? That--" He takes a breath, trying to get himself back on track because... okay, this is probably gonna be more helpful to Claude, right-- "There's-- I don't think you messed up."

Difficult to stay on-track when he's rapidly becoming... frankly angrier than he's been in months.

Claude glances up at Grant when he interrupts himself. He's not particularly accustomed to people taking offense for him, but he certainly catches that something is going on here.

"Yeah. I told him the first night we slept together - we wound up talking about how it had been six years or so since I'd had sex, and he acted like that was an unheard-of travesty. And then when he was asking me what I was comfortable with him doing, I wound up explaining how it was that I'd never had a blowjob before." Claude rubs the back of his neck. "I'd never slept with anyone who was interested in pleasuring me, as opposed to just...y'know, getting pleasure from me. So it just kind of naturally came out..." His expression darkens a bit. "And he told me how awful that was, and how he was going to treat me so much better than they did...which he did, I guess. At least in bed. Less so in general."

He exhales. "I mean...honestly, I wouldn't have been nearly as bothered by what he did if he hadn't known about those guys in my past, and how they treated me. If he didn't know, then he might not have any idea I'd take it badly, right? But...I'd told him about them. How they were just using me, and never really cared about me or what I wanted. He'd told me he'd treat me better than them. And then he hooked up with the guy he was in love with, and dropped me publicly after complaining about how insufferable I am the second their relationship got revealed...because, y'know, he'd initially hidden the fact that he'd gotten together with Geralt from me. It didn't even fit with the talk he and I had after all of us got together about whether or not our arrangement would continue - that was private and respectful. But when he was done with me...it was obvious he didn't care how I felt or what I thought anymore. Like I'd never mattered to him at all. Just like the other guys I'd been with. Only he'd tricked me in ways they hadn't, by making me think I had mattered. Frankly, I preferred the open hatred."

He keeps quiet, listens carefully through Claude's explanation. He's good at being quiet and listening, keeping any outbursts at bay.

It is, admittedly, harder than usual right now. Hearing, with what he knows now, about how Jaskier had made such a big deal of how long it had been for Claude, of putting effort into making sure Claude enjoyed it - that kind of behavior, combined with Jaskier's more recent behavior, pings something in the back of his mind, sharp and distrustful and disgusted. At absolute best, one could assume he meant it at the time - but that still just goes to make this new betrayal worse. At worst, if it was a more deliberate setup on his part, the kind of effusive praise and attention meant specifically to pull down someone's boundaries, to win their their trust like some kind of currency--

Grant cuts that thought off before it can go too much further. He can't draw any conclusions about what Jaskier intended at the time. He can't make assumptions.

For now, he'll just be pissed over what he knows.

...An amendment to Grant being quiet while Claude explains. He doesn't say anything until he's done. But it's a bit before then that a sound starts rising from his throat, a deep, rumbling growl that starts so quiet it probably isn't really audible at first.

"Yeah." The single word punctuates that soft, continuous growl. "That kinda crap really is what brings it from obnoxious to-- to disgusting."

"Yeah." Claude glowers at nothing, eyes slightly distant. "When he acted like they were such scum, and fussed over how he was going to treat me better...I thought that meant he was invested in never making me feel the way they did. And definitely that he'd never end up making me feel worse than any of them did. I thought he cared about me, and how I felt, how he made me feel, about treating me well. I mean, some of it he came out and said; some of it was just heavily implied. But then - well, you know how he acted. He acted as though none of that was true, like he hadn't considered any of that stuff at all.

"And he told me that he didn't want, or couldn't have, someone like me - a 'controlling personality' - in his life. That his problem is who I am, more than anything else." Claude shifts slightly against Grant. He doesn't quite curl up on himself; the shift isn't so obvious. But there's a feeling that he wants to make himself smaller, and is forcibly overriding the reaction - a tension, combined with the ducking of his head, that suggests the desire to retreat, to shrink, even if he's not acting on it. Perhaps he finds it too shameful, too seemingly cowardly, to allow himself that. "People have always written me off for the blood in my veins, not who I am."

A hand, resting on his leg, fists itself in the fabric beneath his fingers. "And he attacked me for reminding me of - of nobles. He hates the nobility. He's suffered at their hands before, to the point where he ran away from some responsibilities of his to have freedom and distance from them. He acted like I'm just like the backbiting nobles he's known. Even if that was true, and I know it isn't, it makes me so damn angry. He got to cut and run, ditch his responsibilities, be fancy free, got to leave situations that made him uncomfortable as soon as he was capable of it, no longer be accountable for anything, burn whatever bridges he likes...not just with the nobility, but it feels like maybe that's all he's been doing ever since, like he found one solution that works and never figured out any others. But I've never had those options. The person he's so disgusted with is the person I've had to be, because I put other things before myself. My country, my people, the good I can do in the world if I can achieve my dreams.

"Even if I was anything like he said, it'd be because I had to live in the world he got to run away from, and he holds it against me. I should resent him for his being able to spit on a system he was able to escape, and me for reminding him of it...!" Claude forces himself to stop and breathe for a moment. "...it's even worse, because it feels like the only reason he can make such a stupid comparison, acting like I've ever treated him like some scheming, back-stabbing noble, is because he's had the privilege of being away from court for so long that he's forgotten what it's really like. Another opportunity I haven't had. If all you need to do to be acting like a noble is remember something he said and point out that his own logic also applies to him when it's about something he doesn't want to hear, then it's a lot easier to become a noble than anyone ever realized. There's a lot of things he doesn't want to hear, and a lot of hypocrisies and logical fallacies a person can call him on. If you want your own title, Grant, we could go get you one today."

There's a manic, bitter sort of humor in the last sentence. Claude's almost trembling with a sense of - outrage? Injustice? He's not sure. It's all so blindingly, frustratingly, ridiculously stupid the more he thinks of it all.

Subtle though it might be, Grant notices that shift in posture, the way Claude keeps himself from moving any further. So, the moment Claude finishes talking, his voice shaking, Grant moves in turn - and he doesn't hold off from what he actually wants to do; he lets go of Claude's hand, for the sole purpose of putting his arms around him and pulling him in close, one hand cradling the back of his head.

He notices the sound he's been making as he does it, and does his best to tone it down - part of him still worries that being pulled around by an actively growling werewolf wouldn't be all that comforting. But Claude can still probably feel it as Grant wraps himself around him, as if his bulk could shield him from the world.

"He's full of it," Grant grumbles in agreement. "Sounds to me like a stupid fuckin' kid scrambling to justify himself."

He huffs quietly. "'Course, given that he can't be much younger than you, he's not even a kid. But he's sure acting like one, treating everything that bothers him like some kind of attack."

The growl doesn't disturb Claude at all; he trusts Grant, for one thing, and for another he recognizes that in this context it's definitely not directed at him in any case. He tucks himself readily into Grant's arms with a sigh, trying to let the warm comfort of Grant's body leech the tension and anger out of him.

At Grant's remark about Jaskier's age, Claude can't help a small chuckle - just at the general deceptiveness of Jaskier's appearance. It doesn't quite occur to him what Grant's reaction might be when he responds. "Oh, he's much older than me. He should be...41 now, since he's had a birthday since he first told me his age."

Grant isn't just going to hit the roof; he's going to go through it. And Claude has no idea, because he's personally never assigned much significance to Jaskier's age at all.

"He's--" There's... a brief pause. Grant keeps holding Claude close, the need to comfort him overriding the impulse to just. Lean back and see if he can tell if Claude is serious.

He's pretty sure he's serious.

When he does speak again, Grant... doesn't sound very amused. He's sure to find it sort of darkly funny later, considering the thought of a man almost a decade older than Grant himself acting in a way that strikes Grant as so juvenile, but right now there's just another surge of frustration rising in his chest.

"Well, so much for whatever goddamn pinch of leniency youthful inexperience could get him. Must be nice to be so fucking carefree, you don't see the problem with ditching a guy barely over half your age the moment--" He grinds his teeth together, cutting himself off. Claude doesn't need attention drawn again to the timing of Jaskier's decision. "Jesus Christ."

The ferocity of Grant's anger takes Claude by surprise; he thinks this might be the angriest he's ever seen his lover. On the one hand...it's rather flattering, to see how upset Grant is on his behalf. On the other hand, though - Claude hates seeing Grant so upset.

He reaches up, sliding his fingers into that luxurious hair of Grant's as he guides the man's face down to look at him. "It's okay, Grant," he says softly. "Or, well...it's not, we both know it's not, but you're more important to me than he is. So I don't want you this bothered over someone who's not worth it." He smiles, faintly. "Or over me, for that matter. You being your sweet self helps me a hundred times more than any amount of anger at him."

He pauses. "Although we could both fantasize for a few minutes about you roundhousing him as a form of healthy mental exercise." He smiles up at Grant. "You know it's not the anger that bothers me, right? It's just...seeing you so upset, when I never want you to have to be."

He feels this is worth specifying. He knows Grant's worries about appearing aggressive, and on a completely separate level, Claude is intensely gratified and flattered that Grant trusts him enough to let himself be so angry around him. To not stifle those reactions because of worries about how Claude will perceive him. So Claude wants to be very clear that it's a desire to soothe Grant's distress that's motivating him here, rather than Claude wanting to stifle that aggression that Grant so rarely allows himself to express(or encouraging Grant to stifle it himself).

For all that he'd bristled at what he was finding out about Jaskier, Grant deflates just as quickly, almost as soon as Claude touches him, as if just getting angry for those few moments exhausted him. There's always the chance it will flare up again, but for now he can lean into Claude's touch and try to calm down.

Which feels a little ridiculous. Claude shouldn't have to be the one comforting him right now.

"Right... yeah. Just... hate it. You shouldn't have to be upset, either." He settles a hand over Claude's, turns his head to kiss his boyfriend's palm before mumbling against it. "And-- I would rather do anything I can to help than waste time getting angry."

"I know." Claude smiles at that kiss to his hand, slightly moving it against Grant's own hand and his lips in what he hopes qualifies as an encouraging gesture. (There's only so much movement of any kind he can manage with one partially restrained hand, and it's not exactly like those movements can be eloquent, but he likes what's happening here and is okay with lots more of it.) "And honestly...I haven't had many people get upset on my behalf in my life. Definitely not like that. I won't pretend it didn't feel good.

"But for something to get a guy like you, who's so careful about controlling himself, that worked up...I can't help but worry. It must've been pretty extreme." There's a hint of a questioning look in his eyes as he studies Grant; he gets the feeling there's a reason it got to Grant that deeply. After all, Jaskier's age is a rather less significant fact than his actions, which Grant was already aware of. So Claude suspects there's something deeper at play here that he doesn't know about.

Grant smiles weakly, rubbing his thumb over Claude's knuckles. "Well... glad to provide that, at least." Genuinely, if his outburst could somehow provide any kind of comfort, he's very glad to hear it.

But now he has to stop and consider... how to explain. And, as he considers that, embarrassment warms his skin slightly under Claude's hand. "It's... actually sort of stupid, I guess."

Unfortunately, he's probably gonna have to talk more clearly for this, so he reluctantly turns his head again so his mouth isn't right against Claude's palm - though his hand stays right where it is. "Where I'm from... obviously, someone doing what Jaskier did to you is horrible, no matter what. But, when there's a difference in age that large... the thing is, it's generally thought that someone significantly older than their sexual partner has some kind of advantage over said partner; even if the younger person has been through a lot, the older one has... lived more life, if that makes sense. It'll also often be assumed that the older person has more sexual experience, though that's obviously not always true.

"That's not to say, of course, that it's considered universally wrong for someone Jaskier's age to be involved with someone your age; obviously you're still an adult, and you can make your own decisions. But... it's not unheard of for older people to target younger ones for sexual relationships, sometimes with intent to exploit that potential imbalance. Now, that's... not to say I think that was Jaskier's intent. But, uh..."

He hesitates, brow furrowing slightly as he adjusts his hand to fully hold Claude's. "...I dunno if this is making sense. But I know you remember how hesitant I was to get involved with you guys. Back home, when it came to everything I just talked about... basically, with who and what I am, I would have been under more scrutiny than most. It would have almost been expected that I'd exploit you. That I'd... basically do, with premeditation, what Jaskier seems to have done on impulse. So... it just pisses me off to see someone older than myself acting so carelessly about these things, even if I know the standards and expectations with regards to age are doubtless different where he's from, just like where you're from."

"It's not stupid," Claude contradicts, even before Grant gives him the explanation. "It means something to you, and that's enough."

He listens, quiet and intent, to Grant's explanation, and his expression softens as he does. "Of course that'd bother you," he murmurs, once Grant finishes speaking. "You've been holding yourself to such strict standards of behavior, trying to be so careful of others even when you know you've got the best of intentions...and then Jaskier just comes along, clearly never having stressed about that sort of thing a day in his life, takes no precautions or particular care as a result, and hurts someone in exactly the same way people from your world would hold you in suspicion of doing if it had been you. And worse, he doesn't just pull that with a stranger - he pulls it with one of your own boyfriends, who you trusted him with. None of that is stupid, Grant. You've got every right to be angry."

Claude rests his head against Grant's shoulder, looking up at him as his thumb gently strokes Grant's cheek. "Although I don't think he's worth it. You're a better man than he is. You would've been careful with me in ways he never would have been, no matter what kind of mindsets people from your world have or how they look at relationships with age gaps. And it's not like anyone seems to think much of how he treated me, so...even if he'd had those standards applied to him, too, I don't think how it looks to anyone else would have made him act any better. The only things that could have changed how he acted were if he was someone different...or if I was, I guess."

Because Claude can't shake that knowledge. Jaskier has loyalty, and compassion, and love, and thoughtfulness, and a capacity for carefulness, and tolerance for not just minor foibles and annoyances but major personality flaws and vicious falling outs. Jaskier is perfectly capable of treating someone important to him far better than he'd treated Claude. He'd just decided Claude wasn't worth a fraction of any of that. Certainly, who Jaskier is has a large influence on that decision...but Claude can't help thinking of the fact that, at some point, Geralt was new to Jaskier, too. And yet Geralt had brought out the very best in Jaskier over the course of their acquaintance, enough for it to become such a long one. If Claude had appealed to Jaskier the way Geralt had, couldn't he have done similarly?

Claude can't feel it's too much of a loss, all things considered - someone who'd treat people the way Jaskier treated him when someone didn't hit the exact right notes with them isn't the catch they think they are. But in a way, that just makes it all the more insulting that someone like Jaskier could find Claude so wanting.

Claude's summary, and the quiet affirmations that go with it, are at least enough to get Grant to relax a little against him, even if that frustration with Jaskier is still buried in his chest.

...And starts burning all over again at Claude's last sentence. He twists to kiss Claude's forehead - seems like a better use of his mouth than just letting his lips press together in annoyance the way his face is trying to do.

The worst part is, that's not something he can refute. That Jaskier doesn't act this way with everyone is just true; Grant might not know him well, but he knows that much. "I know it's kind of trite to say he just doesn't deserve you - but he doesn't."

That makes Claude smile a bit, despite everything. "If he ever did," he remarks, "he certainly doesn't anymore." He shifts to wind his arms around Grant's neck, pulling him down to rest their foreheads together, eyes gazing warmly into the single one of Grant's. "But you do."

[Closed]

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