90s sadness and gay???

[dtective]

[By this point, Leon has lost track of how long he's been searching for Count D. It became an obsession that only grew with time, and now he couldn't keep to one spot anymore. Not while D was still out there. Across cities, across countries, he probably looked insane to everyone around him. But they didn't know the half of it! Sometimes even Leon wasn't sure he understood what he was doing.

Right now wasn't the time to doubt himself, though. He'd hoped that this lead would get him even an inch closer to his goal, but he hadn't counted on spotting him in the streets. It had to be him. He'd seen him turn and look at him, and those eyes—]

Wait! Stop right there!

[He doesn't hold back, shoving his way through the crowded streets and keeping his eyes locked on him. It doesn't work, because of course it doesn't, and his steps slow in his confusion. His heart is beating way too fast, his stomach sinks, and for a moment he's sure he's lost his one chance.

But something catches the corner of his eye, and his instinct tells him to turn. He reaches out, grabbing the first wrist he can and meeting D's eyes with his own.]

...Found you.

Comments

[dtective]

[Leon has been here panicking and explaining away gay feelings, but that's fine. He has some sort of backpack, probably, which he pulls over from the couch and looks through now, counting.]

Two outfits, right now. [He can't always pack everything when he's rushing after D.] But I'm wearing jeans, so those are good for like a week or two without washing.

[Leon...]

[pruning]

[That's disgusting? D looks down at Leon's legs like he already wants to do his laundry... ew. What a brilliant distraction from gay thoughts.]

I will buy you another pair of jeans.

[dtective]

I can buy my own jeans.

[A long pause as he eats a piece of fruit.] After I get a job.

[pruning]

[Reaching for a piece of toast...]

You don't speak Italian.

[dtective]

[His whole plan is ruined.]

I'll learn it! I know some already! How hard can it be?

[pruning]

[RIP Leon]

...I'll buy you some workbooks.

[dtective]

There has to be something I can do in the meantime...

[He is going to lose his mind if all he can do is struggle to learn Italian right now.]

[pruning]

Oh, dear. I'll have to put you to work doing chores.

[Terrible.]

[dtective]

[Have you seen how he lives, can he even be trusted with chores??]

No thank you. I need to be doing something useful. Is it legal to own a gun in Italy? [Leon???]

[pruning]

Do you have a gun still? [LEON???]

What useful things are you going to do waving a gun around like a maniac?

[dtective]

No, but if I pick one up somehow, maybe I could be a bodyguard! There's gotta be some guy who needs protection that speaks English.

[These guidelines...] Whatever, I'll figure something out.

[pruning]

[Um, like him?? What happened to keeping him safe from getting killed? Even if it would basically just be D buying him stuff, in that arrangement... hmph!]

For now, I will buy you a pair of jeans. You can't wear the same ones until you find a job.

[dtective]

[Okay, he'll be a bodyguard in exchange for rent. Where's the contract, D, bring it out!!]

Okay. I'm not going to stop you from giving me free clothes. [Score, he guesses.]

[pruning]

[Don't sign a contract, the terms will be horrible...]

You— [did he forget that he JUST COMPLAINED about this?? Leon??] In that case, I do hope you're ready to finally stop wearing those terrible t-shirts every day.

[dtective]

[Shut up, after he realized the struggle is too real, he's willing to sacrifice pride for free pants.]

What's wrong with my t-shirts?

[pruning]

Plenty. [Gaze... they're awful, sorry.] What is so wrong with a nice dress shirt? Even a polo.

[dtective]

Why would I wear stuff like that all the time? It's too stuffy! Besides, I don't want to hear it from a guy who only wears dresses.

[pruning]

They aren't dresses, and you look homeless. [So there.] I am buying you at least one decent shirt.

[dtective]

I'm not wearing anything embarrassing.

[That's all he's saying!! As if he doesn't, every day.]

[pruning]

It isn't embarrassing to look nice.

[This guy... why is he so attached to this moron?? Sigh.]

The tea is going to get cold.

[dtective]

I already look nice.

[Leave him alone?? He gives D a long look daring him to speak against that before he leans to pick up a cup of tea. Fine, sheesh. He was distracted.]

[pruning]

Usually you do. [But right now, the homelessness... D also busies himself with the tea, just to have a convenient thing to pause over while he thinks about this.]

Your haircut is almost fetching.

[dtective]

Shut up!

[Don't call him almost fetching, he doesn't know if he wants to hear fetching by itself or none of that at all!! Asshole. He sips at his tea.] It's easier like this.

[It's good if it looks good, he guesses...]

[pruning]

[Yeah that's right, the gay panic shut ups are what he lives for. Now he can be comfortably amused again instead of trying valiantly not to panic.]

Goodness, it was a compliment! I like it, is that better?

[dtective]

I don't care what you think.

[That is such a lie he can't even say it clearly, not to mention he won't look at D when he says it. Shut up shut up... Leave his gay panic alone.] But that's better than saying it's almost fetching. For a guy so big on manners, you sure are rude.

[Now he looks at D.] But you look exactly the same. Is that part of your whole... family thing, too? You all gotta have the same haircut?