Welcome to Dancing on Glass, a Firebolt (Helaena Cresswell/Boletus Edulis Zales) modern Faerûn (no magic) AU Helaena is currently twenty years old and an undergrad student struggling with depression, burnout and low self esteem. She engages in various unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with this. Boletus is twenty-two, and an enlisted soldier in the Cormyrian army, stationed on a base near the mouth of the Chionthar. He, similarly, has more issues than the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette. Content warnings include excessive alcohol consumption, using casual sex as a way to achieve validation, various mental health issues, and Bo’s whole deal (PTSD/anxiety/tiefling angst/moral crises/etc) Keep in mind this is a Laena with no Ros who rarely cooks and is very sad. This unhappy state of affairs is thankfully temporary.

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

alvilda_

Steffi 🍄 [Tavs:Mushroom Mob]

.mushrooming

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

alvilda_

Steffi 🍄 [Tavs:Mushroom Mob]

.mushrooming

🍸

Close

Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

alvilda_

Steffi 🍄 [Tavs:Mushroom Mob]

.mushrooming

🫖

Close

Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

alvilda_

Steffi 🍄 [Tavs:Mushroom Mob]

.mushrooming

🥞

Close

"You bet today's when that changes, mister, I won't stand for this state of affairs," Helaena declares, mock serious. It's not very difficult to find the first (that is, first released, not Phantom Menace, ugh) Star Wars on her parents' Disney+ account and set it playing, Raiders of the Lost Ark for now abandoned partway through. "Please tell me you at least recognize the theme music," she pleads as the familiar scroll of yellow text begins. "You can't be sheltered enough not to recognize some of John Williams' finest work." She's waiting to tell him Harrison Ford is in these movies, too. Hopefully that'll be a pleasant surprise that gets him from skeptical to sold on the franchise.

As a film score connoisseur, he openly scoffs at the very idea that he wouldn’t know one of John Williams’ most famous pieces. “Of course I’ve heard this song! How could I not? One of my friends has this as their ringtone, even! Besides, Williams is one of my favorite film score composers.” Oh, Jovany… he’s probably been texting me, too. Let me live blissfully unaware for just a little longer. He knows his friends will ask questions. They’re probably all gossiping (because men do gossip) about how his night went, if he was “successful”, and theorizing about what specific sex acts he did. Because of course they’ll want details. They (mostly) mean well, but Bo is a private guy. He is not keen on sharing personal details of his sex life with others. Especially not with a bunch of rowdy men. So he continues to be happily ignorant of the fact that he has 69 unread messages on his phone (because of course Sellian, Jovany, and Philo decided to coordinate their efforts to send exactly 69 messages “for the lulz”). “Uh, are you comfortable like this? Sorry I grabbed you earlier,” he says after a totally not-nervous clearing of his throat.

"See, Princess Leia's awesome right from the get go," she argues as the princess' famous space buns come into view. She almost misses his question, then blushes furiously at the realization she'd just sort of... plopped right back onto his chest without asking. Whoops. "Oh, sorry, I, uh, I don't have to use you as a pillow," she apologizes, but doesn't move, not yet. "Would you... Would you rather I move?" She's not above using puppy eyes to get her way, but if he's genuinely uncomfortable, she's not about to push. It's not like the couch doesn't have enough room for them both to be comfortable without her being practically on top of him, it'd just not be quite as, well, nice. It's worrisome how quickly she's becoming comfortable with little intimacies like this. Is she really that touch starved? Yes, the most honest part of herself admits. She really is that desperate for any kind of mortal connection, for anything that feels real at least for a bit. She's so fucking stupid.

“No!” he blurts out, unable to hide that hint of desperation in his voice. “I mean, I’m comfortable if you are. Promise.” Great, could you seem any more desperate? A soldier begging for scraps because his only company has been the same 20 or so men for years. “I mean… we’ve already… slept together, no? Um… so… I don’t mind this sort of closeness.” It’s strange, now that he says it out loud. Why is this so much more awkward than their casual sex? It’s because I like her, I guess. Last night, I was just doing what I thought I was supposed to be doing. But now? I just plain like her, and I feel like a little kid with a crush. My heart won’t stop pounding. He’s also so fucking stupid.

She misses the hint of desperation in his tone, too happy she won't have to move. "Okay," she agrees, pressing a grateful kiss to his cheek. The strangest part is, he seems to mean what he says. Sure, one thing's sex, but this is just... cuddling. Intimacy with no real goal beyond that. It makes more and more sense for her that he wants to pretend. He's too busy, too unsettled for a real relationship, so he's settling for however he can get some of the intimacy and affection he would get from that. The worst part is, she's more than willing to play that part. She wants to play that part, and would for just scraps of the kindness and companionship he's so generously given her in turn. Sure, he's a fantastic lay, but she's always been in it for the scraps of intimacy during or after. For not feeling lonely, for just a few moments. For feeling wanted, desired, even needed. And him making her pancakes makes her feel... almost cherished, in a way no good sex could. She would do so much more than play a part for a man like Boletus.

That simple cheek kiss just made it so much worse. His tail wriggles a bit, but it’s trapped between Helaena’s body and the couch. It’s always telling on its owner, the way it matches how his heart races. Since he’s never seen the first Star Wars movie (don’t confuse him by telling him it’s the 4th one chronologically, this is simply just the first one ever released), he actually pays attention to the screen this time. He’s willing to keep an open mind since Helaena seems to have such a high opinion of these movies. Bo thinks he would be a fool to outright dismiss something someone so intelligent and engaging enjoys. He’s always been attracted to people like that. Huh. His tail flails around comically when Han Solo appears on screen for the first time. “Wait! That’s Harrison Ford!” he exclaims, as if he wasn’t aware he was in this movie. That’s because he wasn’t. Boletus lives in a weird media bubble where only historical fiction movies and pre-90s music exists.

Helaena laughs out loud, bright and genuine. "I knew I had a trump card right there! Yes, he plays one of the main characters. This is the role that got him the gig as Indiana Jones, you know. He's in all three of the original movies." He's just... so sweet. Kind. Adorable, in a way that doesn't seem to fit his large frame and huge, callused hands, but somehow does. She likes him far too much. "And the first of the sequel trilogy, but we don't talk about those. Han's a bit more... scruffy than Indiana, but they're cut from the same cloth." She chuckles at the thought of scruffy-looking nerf herders. Gods, she loves Carrie Fisher.

The rest of the movie is viewed in relative silence, Boletus too engrossed in the plot to really make any meaningful commentary. Even if the spaceship effects look really silly to someone not watching the film through nostalgia-colored glasses, the lower half of his tail wriggles excitedly during the climactic Battle of Yavin. They sort of remind him of fighter jets- one of the things that touches that part of his heart that’s still a little boy. There’s just something about watching planes (and now, spaceships) fly around and shoot at each other that excites him. He hums the little triumphant military marching melody that plays as the cast walk down a long halfway to receive their medals from Princess Leia, and then… WHAM! There’s that leitmotif in the ending credits, a faster paced, happier version of the song that played during the opening credits, representing the feelings of victory after a battle well fought and won and… “… that was so good! I can’t believe I’ve never seen this movie before! No wonder Sellian’s been yelling at me to watch it.” His tail seems no different than a dog’s upon seeing their owner come home after long day of work.

She could probably quote the movie line by line if she tried, so she mostly watches him watch the movie. It’s… really nice, to watch someone enjoy something she loves for the first time. He’s bloody adorable, she thinks, not for the first time, at his unfiltered excitement at the final battle. How is a man that big that cute? She also spends the whole runtime curled up on his chest, his arms wrapped around her in a gentle cuddle. She’s almost scared to move, scared to break the spell, the illusion. It’s so easy to pretend like this that they’re more than just two people who met in a bar. It’s so easy to pretend he cares about her as a person. He doesn’t even know any of the real her. No one would like that person. “So you liked it?” she asks as the credits roll. “I know it’s a bit dated, but… I feel like it holds up reasonably well.” If only George Lucas would stop fucking with it.

“I did!” he answers enthusiastically, wasting no time putting on the next one. “Being dated sort of gives it a charm, anyways. It’s interesting to see what movies did before the heavy use of CGI, you know?” While an ad plays, he looks down at the woman on his chest and starts to stroke the loose hairs out of her face with a gentle smile on his face. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?” Can I just stay here? Bo knows what he’s doing. He’s playing to his strengths. His body is warm and well toned. Who wouldn’t want this? Who wouldn’t want him? People can put up with strange compulsions and boring interests when they get something like this in return. He really did like the 1st/4th Star Wars. He absolutely wants to watch the 2nd/5th one, his tail wriggling to the beat of that unmistakable theme song and text scroll across the screen yet again. But now he can stay. Now he has a reason to hold Helaena all day other than “I just want to, since I don’t know when I’ll be able to do this again.” So his arms stay where they are, wrapped loosely around her back just like his tail is. They don’t stray toward her backside. There’s nothing sexual about his touches. If she wanted sex, he’d give it to her if it meant it could prolong his time in her life. But she doesn’t seem like she does, so he will continue to do what he wants to do. Until he’s eventually told to leave, anyways. When Han Solo shows up again, the tip of his tail wriggles a bit, where it has been mostly still up to this point. He’s clearly Bo’s favorite character. Maybe there’s just something about a guy who is much more compassionate than his initial appearance might suggest.

”I’m very comfortable,” she assures him with a slightly-confused smile. “Thank you.” He really just wants to curl up on her couch and watch Star Wars all day? Yes, they’re good movies, especially Empire, and she can understand the lure of having to know what happens next if he’s legitimately never seen them before. But why would he want to watch them with her? Why would he smile at her like that? Why would he hold her like this, intimately but with no intent beyond closeness and comfort? Why would he brush the hair out of her face like that, a gentle caress with no real purpose? He’s play-acting, she reminds herself. It’s the only thing that makes sense. His life has left him so hungry for touch, for closeness, that he takes any he can get, even from far-from-ideal sources. He doesn’t like me, he just doesn’t have an actual girlfriend to be like this with. So she’ll make herself easy, and available, and convenient, and in return, hope he stays. At least for a bit longer. It says something for how distracted she is by her thoughts that she almost misses one of her favorite exchanges in the whole movie. But she can’t contain her chuckle at Han Solo’s offense and confusion at being called scruffy-looking.

Much like the first movie, the second movie is watched in relative silence, his arms squeezing Helaena’s body slightly any time something cool happens. “Ahh, now I get it…” he mutters to himself, once Darth Vader reveals that he is Luke’s father. “So many people said this line while I was a kid and I never got it. Quite the twist…” There’s a bunch of these movies, right? And she clearly loves them. Thanks the gods for Star Wars… The last thing he wants to do is bore her, because this is his idea of fun. He doesn't like to party, he doesn't like big crowds, and he doesn’t like loud noises. What he does like has earned him snarky comments from various people in his life. His buddies often commented that he must be a time traveler judging by the way he speaks and the things he gravitates towards. These things about him are just a product of being raised by two very old-fashioned people… or maybe he was doomed to turn out this way no matter what. It’s well into the afternoon when the second movie is finished, so it’s time to check in with his human-shaped stuffed animal. “You know, it’s not often a sequel is better than the first,” he starts. “Once again, I’m thoroughly captivated. But-“ His stomach growls, finishing his sentence for him. “… well, two things. One, I need to use the bathroom. Two, I’m pretty hungry. But I would hate to eat more of your food. So would you want me to order you something? I could really go for a burger…” He looks into her eyes, an other-worldly yellow surrounded by jet black sclera, with a somewhat sad, puppy dog sort of look. If only people didn’t need to pee.

There are several scenes in this movie she could quote word for word. She's watched it at least a dozen times. Empire's her favorite. Sue her. Helaena's always been a nerd. There's a reason her ex asked/demanded help with his homework. She's always been more interested in historical figures than the vast majority of her peers. Why would she hang out with girls who have nothing but boy bands on their brain when she could be spending time with Laeral Silverhand or Vajra Safahr? Princess Leia is much better company than her high school cohort. Besides, she's never struggled to entertain herself. She can't help but laugh as she realizes he apparently didn't know about the twist in Star Wars. Maybe he really has been living under a rock. "I'm really glad you enjoyed them. It is a pretty famous example of a sequel actually being better." She could ramble on about Star Wars for hours if he let her, so it's fortunate she's struck dumb by him offering to buy her takeout. And giving her puppy eyes. He has really cute puppy eyes. Almost everything about Bo is really cute. "You didn't eat my food, you made a meal we shared," she counters. "I can pay for takeout, Bo, you got food last night, remember?" Then she blushes, realizing she forgot the first part of his statement. "But, uh, burgers sounds great, we can talk about it when you're done, I'll go grab some water." He might need to pee, but she's thirsty after sitting down for hours the day after drinking a little, and not hydrating enough.

He reluctantly detangles himself from Helaena, making one last argument before retreating to the bathroom. “I’m the one imposing on you, so I should pay for the food. It really is no trouble.” And then he’s gone. When he’s finished, he washes his hands for 30 seconds on the dot, adding that extra 10 seconds to the recommended time just because. His tail swishes like the second hand of a clock. Looking in the mirror, he can already tell his crew cut hairstyle is already growing out. Just like his nails, his hair seems to grow a little too fast for his liking. Maybe I’ll actually go to a barber this time rather than let Sellian cut it. He comes back with a smile, eager to get some food ordered. How else is he going to maintain the tief beef gains without a ridiculous amount of calories? “So, burgers are okay for you?” he asks, taking a seat back on the couch. The remote in his hands already has “Return of the Jedi” pulled up. “Or did you want something else? I’m not all that picky.” As long as it’s not just a bunch of raw fruit? He’ll eat whatever is in front of him happily.

Imposing. He still thinks he’s imposing on her? When she’s the one using him as a pillow, making him cook her breakfast, do her dishes. She’s not sure she’s ever had a more polite house guest. Is he a house guest? Is that what you call a one night stand that invites you out and then sticks around for a movie marathon? What the fuck am I doing? He can’t be gone for more than a few minutes, but it’s plenty of time for her to begin a proper spiral about the man offering to buy her a burger not only not knowing anything but her mask at all, but also the bone-deep certainty he wouldn’t like any of what hid behind it. No one really likes what’s behind her mask. There’s a reason she doesn’t have a lot of friends. Or any friends, really. She didn’t have a choice to keep any of the friends she had in high school, and she hasn’t made any since. “Burgers?” she echoes, a little lost. “Uh, yes, burgers are great, there’s a good place in the neighborhood.” She pulls up their site on her phone, quickly plugging in her usual order. “But I’ll have to insist on paying for my own meal at minimum, Boletus. Or promise to let me pay next time,” she adds as an afterthought. Next time?! Damn bold to assume there’ll be one, especially if I keep leeching off him like this, oh Gods what am I DOING?!

”A man always pays for the meal. I never let your mother pay for a single thing when I was courting her!” ”Lawrence, love. You have always been the perfect gentleman. And Boletus? You’re on your way to being just like him.” He smiles at Helaena’s attempt at a compromise he won’t be conceding to. He does catch that “next time,” raising his brows slightly with smile. “Sure, you can pay next time, Helaena,” he lies. “I’ve got it for right now. It’s my pleasure.” He takes her phone and puts in his own order, tail wagging as he browses the menu. Of course, Bo remembers his credit card information, punching in the numbers without needing to take out his wallet. “And… done! So… where were we?” When he starts the movie, he leans back and resumes the role of Tiefling Pillow, his arm outstretched and tail thumping softly against the couch. It’s strange how badly he had already missed someone pressed against his body. Helaena’s weight seems to quiet his mind that normally buzzes with thoughts and scenes best left forgotten. Would someone else have the same effect? Maybe if they were as nice and smart as Helaena is. He finds her company pleasant. She don’t push him to do anything he’s uncomfortable with. She doesn’t seem to expect a single thing out of him. It’s nice to just exist, he thinks. It’s nice to enjoy small and peaceful moments like this. Because it won’t be long until he’s back on base. Rowdy men. Strict schedule. The looming threat of returning to the front lines. I do it so people like her can live a normal life.

He clearly doesn’t believe there’ll be a next time. That stings a little, but not enough for her to protest further, especially after she realizes he’s getting a double burger and a couple sides on top of fries. How much does this man eat? His clothes are long clean, if a little wrinkled in the case of the shirt, but she’s scared to mention it in case it means he’ll leave. If he doesn’t believe there’ll be a next time, it’s not that likely that date will actually happen. Just enjoy the moment. It’s probably for the best he leaves before he fully realizes the girl he picked up in a bar bears no resemblance to the mess he woke up with, anyway. It’s unlikely she’d be able to keep up the ruse indefinitely. That she’d be able to be interesting enough for him to stick around, for what, just her company? Absurd. “So fair warning,” she begins as the familiar music blares and Return of the Jedi begins. “This is my least favorite of the original three. It’s still good, but it’s no Empire. The beginning sequence is fantastic though.” Gold bikinis aside. Ugh. Still, Jabba’s palace, the pit monster, all the ridiculously aged aliens… she loves it. It’s ridiculous, in the best possible way.

As silly as it looks, Boletus might be weirdly affected by Leia in her little bikini outfit strangling the fuck out of Jabba the Hut. He gasps when another big twist is dropped: Leia is Luke's sister? Darth Vader's real name is Anakin? Why did he join the Dark Side? Maybe he tears up a little when Anakin asks Luke to take off his mask so he can see his son before he passes. But he'll never cry in front of a woman, so those tears are blinked away. There's a knock on the door right in the middle of the Battle of Endor, the "pew pew pew!" of the space ships fully captivating Bo's little boy brain. "Sorry, can you get that?" he asks, tail wagging against the couch cushions. His father would have smacked him on the head for making a lady get up for him like that. But he wouldn't understand that spaceships fighting is really cool... She's seen these movies before. It's fine just this one time.

As familiar as the movies are, it’s honestly been a while since she sat down and saw one from end to end. It’s been even longer since she saw all three back to back. She can’t help but chuckle at the Ewoks, cheer internally as Han finally admits he loves her, too, struggle not to cry as Vader’s mask is removed. Watching the movies through Bo’s eyes makes them magical again. New, and old friends all at once. She almost misses the knock on the door, startling at Bo’s question. Of course she can get that, he’s a guest, and she’s on top of him in a way where she’d have to get up anyway for him to answer the door. “Oh, of course! Want me to pause it for you, or are we eating on the couch?” She should probably grab glasses at least… Hydration’s important! “Be right back,” she assures him, leaning up to peck his cheek for a split second without thinking about it. She’s still kicking herself for it when she accepts the absurd amount of food Bo ordered, enough for a family of four at minimum.

*"No eating in front of the TV, Boletus. Come on, turn it off and join us at the dinner table.*" "We can pause it," he says with just the smallest hint of disappointment. "The movie isn't going anywhere, and... neither am I, really." Unless she kicks me out. But the kiss on his cheek makes him feel like that's not a possibility. If she wanted him gone, she wouldn't be snuggling up to him, sitting through movies she's already seen, agreeing to eat lunch with him... His tail wags triumphantly as he stand to make his way to her dining table. Is this a successful... well, it's not quite a date. Pre-date? Is this the usual order of things? Really awesome sex (multiple times) --> asking her out --> hanging out in her apartment watching movies all day --> actual date? Boletus isn't sure what's really "normal" when it comes to this, but he knows that's he's happy. He just needs to make sure Helaena feels the same way. He's sitting at the table now in the same seat he sat in for breakfast. A creature of habit, he is.

She plops down the takeout bag in front of him, and returns a few moments later with two large glasses of water. Plates? Plates might be a good idea, but she sets the line at eating burgers with a knife and fork. That's insanity. "So is there a secret to eating enough to feed a small army but looking like that or is it just a disgusting amount of exercise?" she teases gently as she sits down and pulls out her own burger from the bag. "If you tell me it's genetics I might cry," she jokes. Her own body is just... soft. No matter what or how much she eats, no matter how much she exercises, it seems to have a stubborn layer of fat almost everywhere, a figure that can, well, generously, be termed generous, or ungenerously termed chubby, even dumpy. Boletus is seemingly made of pure muscle, with only just enough padding she can tell it's functional, not ornamental. He's not some dehydrated, 'roided up body builder. His body has a purpose, and it's only sometimes fucking like it's an athletic discipline. Probably. She's guessing he spends more time on base lifting weights than fraternizing. He doesn't strike her as the sort, really. So what the fuck is he doing with me?

His face is mostly blank as he answers, a mix of emotions flooding his mind at a seemingly innocuous question. "Like, toned? Right..." he begins, not wasting any time sinking sharp teeth into his burger. "Well, the simplest answer is that it's a mix of both. My doctor growing up was a tiefling like me, and he said that my increased body temperature burns through calories much faster than most other races, which means I need to eat more just to function." His thoughts are paused for a moment, the juiciness of the burger, of *meat*, making his tail slap around for a bit. "And I think I mentioned I was adopted last night? Well, I just recently met my biological father. Human man. He's built very much like I am. Lots of muscle. Very tall, taller than me, even. So, more fuel for whole genetics thing." Next, he's shoving fries into his mouth in a way that would make his mother scold him. "But I do work out a lot," he confesses. "When I'm stressed out, moving my body is one of the few things that helps. I often work out for... hmm. Somewhere between 4-6 hours a day?" A day. Every day. No breaks. Well... until now. Because he has no plans of going to the gym or a jog or anything like that today. He would rather be doing what he's doing right now: leisurely spend the day with Helaena. He downs his entire glass of water in just a few large gulps, letting out a satisfied sigh once he's done. "That was a lot of words just to say there's really no secret to looking this way for me," he shrugs. "Genetics combined with hard work, I suppose. He tilts his head a bit. "Why, are you trying to look like me?" he teases. "Because that would be odd. You're perfect the way you are." When he says "perfect", he does not mean that her body is without flaws. He just means that it suits her, like any other type of body would seem wrong. Bo has never given much thought to his physical preferences, hardly acknowledging the fact that he's bisexual. He just likes what he likes.

4-6 hours. Chauntea on a _tricycle_, that’s a lot of exercise. No wonder he looks the way he does. She had caught that he was adopted, but not that his father was both alive, contactable and human. It makes sense he didn’t get his size from strangers, though. Perfect. You’re perfect the way you are. He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion. Like there could be nothing wrong with the way she looks, or no one could ever mind it. Like she’s perfect. The way she is. She tries to hide her furious blush behind her burger, but it’s probably a lost cause. “I, uh, thank you. But no, I was mostly wondering. I think my genetics are of a different persuasion, so I doubt it would be successful even if I tried.” And you’d still have a full foot of height on me. “So higher caloric needs… That sounds like a blessing and a curse both. You probably get hungry really easily, huh? Especially if you’re that active.” And food isn’t exactly cheap, especially in a city like the Gate.

“Mmhmm,” he replies, because of course he’s eating like he has been starving for days, and currently has a giant bite of burger in his mouth. “Food is where the majority of my budget goes, I think? It’s okay though, because I love food as much as I need it. Eating isn’t some big hassle to me, even if I kind of need to do it constantly.” His tail swishes around happily, because he really is just a simple guy at heart. Good food and Helaena is all it takes. Or would anyone else’s company do? It’s only been a day. It’s hard for him to say for sure. All he knows is that’s it’s cute how she’s trying to hide her face behind a burger. Was it because he said she’s perfect the way she is? He comes to the conclusion that he likes this version of Helaena much better than the one at the bar. That Helaena probably would have had something flirty or cheeky to say. Instead, she’s just blushing like a tomato. “Fighting against genetics is a losing battle,” he says lightheartedly, tapping on one of his horns. “No matter how much you wish you could change things.” The road to acceptance is one he’s still walking on.

I love food as much as I need it. [CW: Pretty nasty internalized fatphobia/disordered eating] ||She misses the days she could look at a meal without thinking of what's in it. How much fat, how many calories, how many carbs. You really ought to watch your figure, love. Ooof, that one's a little tight on you, darling, maybe try one size up? He suggested burgers, so she agreed. He made pancakes, so she ate them. She's even enjoying it. Mostly. His words remind her there's a reason she usually only orders from this place on bad days. And how horrible she feels about it after. _Don't be weird. It's just a damn burger._|| "Um, yes, you're probably right. Some things you just can't change, much." No matter how much you wish. No matter how much you try. "I hope their cheeseburgers are still good? I haven't had one in a while, I usually get the chicken." Just a personal preference. ||And less calories.|| With a determined look, she reaches over and grabs a handful of fries from Bo's side of the table, dipped liberally in the mayo. Gods damn it all, she'll worry about it tomorrow. For today, she gets to have fries, and Star Wars, and cute boys calling her pretty. Tomorrow's tomorrow's problem.

“Oh, it’s delicious!” he answers enthusiastically, smiling when Helaena grabs some fries as well. Enjoying food with someone else just makes it taste better. Eating simply for fuel is what he does when he’s active duty. This is his time to eat for fun. “Those are great, too. Whatever seasoning they put on these things… it might be to become a controlled substance because of his addicting it is.” He’s stuck between wanting to finish as fast as possible for he can get back to the movie (they were so close to finishing!) and wanting to slow down just to enjoy this peaceful moment. The peaceful moment wins out, but without the movie to distract him, his mind is already jumping ahead. “I’m staying in a hotel in Heapside,” he starts. “I’ll probably head back later today to grab some things. Um…” He isn’t sure how to ask what he wants to ask. So he just… asks. “Tomorrow is tenthday. You don’t have anything planned, do you? I thought maybe I could take you out on an actual date. Not that sitting on the couch and watching movies isn’t fun and all, but… well. I’m a little old fashioned, I guess. I want to take you out and do… some sort of activity? As a couple…” Clearly he does not ask a lot of people out on dates, as awkward as he is.

I’m staying at a hotel in Heapside. Well there it is, he’s leaving as soon as the movie’s done probably. Unless, what? He’s asking her to come over for another go? Is it pathetic she probably would? Yes. Yes it is. She’s already weighing pros and cons apart from the fact she really wants to see him again when… he asks if he can take her out. Like he actually meant it when asked her on a date. As a couple. She briefly bites down on the meat of her own cheek, and nope, the sharp sting of pain does not reveal she is dreaming or hallucinating. Probably? “You… you meant it when you asked that?” Her voice probably sounds horrifically unsure. Insecure. Desperate. Needy. Clingy. All the things she tries so hard not to be. “I mean, uh, yes, if you’d like to, absolutely. I don’t have classes until Firstday, so, if you’d like… I’m all yours, really.” He could have her for a single watered down cocktail and he knows it. Why bother? Why treat her like she’s worth something, treat her like he would a girl he actually liked? She’s not even successfully pretending anymore. Why isn’t he running screaming? Why does he keep being like this? He wants to pretend. That has to be it. I’m here, and at least somewhat tolerable.

“Of course I meant it!” he gasps. He speaks as if it’s strange that Helaena ever doubted him. Bo never says things he does not mean. It’s not how he was raised. But… Maybe it’s reasonable to doubt what a man says when he’s balls deep. “I mean… yes. I did mean it,” he repeats calmly. All yours? Last night he felt like he was eating out of the palm of her hand. Why do the roles feel… somewhat reversed today? He has the sense that she might do anything he asks of her. The look in her eyes must be how he looked last night, desperate to bask in the company of someone who wanted him, even if only for his body. Thankfully for her, all he has ever wanted was to connect with someone outside of his incredibly small world. Helaena is educated, well-traveled, and pleasant to talk to. She seems to have everything he has ever wanted in life, and he would be a fool to let her go when she’s clearly interested in him. “What kind of things do you like to do?” he asks expectantly. “I feel like we’ve exhausted the movie theater idea. I could take you out to a nicer dinner? Or maybe a museum? A concert if there is anything good in town? I’m an easy guy to please, so… lady’s choice.”

He did mean it. He’s even a little shocked she’d ever doubt it, then, seemingly remembers, well… It wouldn’t be the strangest thing a man’s said while inside her. But now he’s asking what she likes to _do_, as if her input actually _matters_, because he wants to go on date she’ll… enjoy? Gus had rarely asked her opinion on _anything_, and if he did it was a trap so he could be angry if she answered wrong. Small things like what to do or where to go or what to eat? She wasn’t consulted. Lady’s choice. I’m an easy guy to please. He’s letting her choose. “I… hmm. How much have you seen of the city? There’s so many places to go, so much stuff to do… but there’s no point in going somewhere you’ve already been, you know?” The natural history museum. The Jabrhee collection. The national history museum. Oh gods why am I such a nerd? They could go to one, though. Hit up a food cart pod or a streetside cafe after. Walk along the harbor as the sun set. It could be nice. It could be wonderful. It could be a reminder of exactly what she can’t have, because she’s not good enough for anyone to want it with her.

“Not much of it,” he replies with a shrug. “While I’ve been stationed here for the past 6 or so months, I rarely stray far from base on my days off.” He wasn’t lying about what he said earlier. On his days off, he might talk a walk outside to stare out into the Chionthar. Or he might attempt to read a Brandon Sanderson book in one sitting (impossible). Or he’d just go to the local pub and eat. Sometimes he would go out with his friends, of course. But a lot of the time, they were just too loud and rowdy for his liking. Sellian used to try and drag him out to do something, but these days, being alone with him was just too hard. He can see Helaena thinking, her eyes moving back and forth rapidly in a way that’s almost unnoticeable. She must be giving this question a considerable amount of thought. She is so cute. “I’m sure wherever you’d like to go, I haven’t been. And even if I have? Well, I don’t mind, because wherever it was, I was probably alone. Having someone like you with me… I think it would make somewhere revisited feel brand new.” And then he shoves the last bite of his burger into his mouth like some sort of starving beast.

He's too sweet. This will have a price. All good things do. Even if it's a toll exacted by her own mind, there is always a price. "Is it terrible if I want to list half a dozen museums and let you take your pick? I know it's incredibly nerdy, but... Concerts are usually a bit loud for me. There are absolutely other things we could do! There's parks, and the Steeps are lovely to walk through, there's the Sea Tower and the High Hall..." He asked her opinion. She's doing her best to give it. Even if her instinct is to just... go along with whatever he wants. In the hopes it'd make him like her more, in the hopes he wouldn't get tired of her, in the hopes, well... In the hopes he'd at least want to spend time with her, at least a little. At least for a tenday or two. She likes him far too much already. She cares far too much. She's too invested. It's not her fault he's, well, lovely. Girls like her rarely get to be within spitting distance of someone who seems like a genuinely nice person. Kind. Sweet. A little silly. Someone who enjoys good food and retro movie marathons and happens to be both gorgeous and great in bed? The other shoe will drop. She'll either find the flaw that led to him picking up girls in bars instead of having some equally sweet equally gorgeous girlfriend or boyfriend waiting somewhere, or he'll figure out she's, well, her. Maybe he does have that partner back home. That would explain a lot. He wouldn't do that. But she doesn't know him, does she? Not really. How could she?

He's trying very hard not to grin like a dork, ecstatic that her choices match oddly well with what he would have suggested were he somewhere he was more familiar with. Like back home in Suzail. "It wouldn't be terrible at all," he replies with his best attempt at a calm expression, tail swishing happily behind him. "I love museums. I love parks. The bigger and more open the space, the better." Easier to evacuate if something were to happen. "The Sea Tower sounds interesting too. That was one of the places I've been meaning to visit. Just never found the time." A historical naval base? That has Boletus written all over it. If only he wasn't so susceptible to sea sickness... and plane sickness... "So go ahead. You list them, I'll pick one. Whatever I don't pick, we can save for our next date." We have 19 more days, after all. And maybe... more than that. It's not like I don't get days off. Assuming he isn't, you know. Ever deployed.

She can tell he's trying not to seem too eager, and it's sweet enough she can't help but smile at him like a fool. It freezes for a second at the words our next date. He had said 19 days, but... She'd presumed he wouldn't want to fill them with just her company. Why would he? She's just... her. It's not like he couldn't go back to that very same bar and pick up some tall, skinny blonde to spend the rest of his leave with, if he'd prefer. She's nothing special. "Right, Sea Tower," she manages, reaching behind her for a physical notepad and pencil, because sometimes you just need a physical list. "That's definitely on the list." She writes it down, at the top of the page, before listing off the other options she's considered in her cramped, minuscule handwriting. At least one professor has insisted a magnifying glass is necessary to make out what she's trying to write. "If you're interested in historical military installations, the Wyrm's Rock has a lovely museum. It's largely focused on the conflicts the Flaming Fists were involved in over the centuries, but there's a great section on how the fortress has been used at different times. It was Gortash's headquarters, after all." The one and so far only Archduke of Baldur's Gate isn't a very proud moment of her city's history, but it is a deeply interesting one. Even if it had been more than five hundred years before.

Helaena has captured another piece of his heart as soon as she takes out a notepad and writes down the places that he wants to visit. Boletus has always preferred handwritten lists. The small journal he wrote Helaena’s food suggestions in is still sitting on her nightstand after all, since he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had accidentally thrown it into the wash with his pants. It might seem a small and inconsequential thing to fall for, but it’s proof that the woman sitting across from him also wants to keep seeing him. He doesn’t feel like she’s just obliging him in hopes for more of his body, a chore to get through to get to what she really wants. “Oh, you can add Wyrm’s Rock to that list, then. That sounds right up my alley.” Gods, how lame is it that saying the word “list” makes his chest blossom with warmth? His mind is already running into the future, anticipating an entire day spent with her, exploring the city that she calls home. He has to remind himself that today isn’t over yet, either. Could he push his luck and ask to spend the night again after making a pitstop to his hotel to grab a few things? Or would that be just a little too much for a woman he’s only known for a day and a half at this point? It might be too much… but what do I have to lose? Her, I guess. ”If the art of war were nothing but the art of avoiding risks, glory would become the prey of mediocre minds…” “Um, after the movie… I would like to stop by my hotel and grab a few things.” ”… I have made all the calculations; fate will do the rest.” “After that… could I come back and spend another night with you? Or at least grab dinner together? You’re, uh… free to say no. I just thought I’d ask.” Oh, Boletus. How do you think a girl you casually slept with is going to interpret that question?

She happily adds the Wyrm’s Rock to the list. She hasn’t been back since they did a major refurbishment of the gun decks, they’ve recently been fully restored to their 15th century state. Her smile flickers for a moment as he, well, makes it pretty obvious why he’s agreeing to a day of trawling museums at all. He’s just a man. Not a saint. Of course he’s more interested in getting laid than early modern political history. Spending the night… or just dinner. An obvious euphemism for a quick fuck and then getting on his way. It frustrates her that he can’t just out and say it. Yes, it hurts that he cares more about her tits than her personality, but she’s a big girl. She can handle it. It’s not like she’s going to say no. She’s in far too deep for that already. “I’d like that,” she tells him with a slightly-fake grin. “Maybe I could actually cook this time, I can’t keep making you wait on me.” He can have what he wants, and then he can decide if he wants to stick around after. She won’t beg him to. She still has some pride.

He gets the sense that Helaena's demeanor changed the minute he asked for another night, though he can't say for sure. If she didn't want him to stay over, he thought he had given her plenty of opportunity to reject him with no risk of hurting his feelings. It's her space, after all. He doesn't see a reason why she would indulge his request if she didn't want to. Does she just feel bad for me? Either way, he is determined to enjoy the time he has with Helaena. The smile she wore while scribbling in her notepad is one he wants to see again. "Well, I think that's fair since I made breakfast," he tries to rationalize. He would rather make her dinner to return the kindness she has showed him, but he is also wants to taste the cooking he figures must be amazing. "I'll be on dish duty, then." A fair compromise, he thinks. Soon, he gets up to throw away the trash from his meal, washes his hand for exactly 30 seconds, and then return to his seat. He can see that Helaena's meal is only half-eaten, the speed at which he eats faster than most people he's known in life.

”I’m not going to object to that, but only because I loathe doing dishes,” Helaena offers with a smile. It’s still slighter than before he propositioned her as blatantly as his propriety seemingly allows. She tries to return to her meal, but her appetite is lackluster at best despite the objectively pleasant flavors and textures. “Is there anything in particular you’d like? I won’t claim to be a Michelin chef, but I can manage most things you might throw at me, I think.” It could be nice, to cook together. To pretend at normality. Pretend it’s not just a prelude to what he actually wants. Maybe they could grocery shop together, too. Like, well… like a couple. She’s so fucking stupid.

Bo has no problem thinking about his next meal despite the fact that he just got done eating. "Do you have any specialties?" he asks. "It's probably obvious that I like meat-based dishes." He thinks back to his childhood and his mother's cooking. Cormyr's farming industry is incredibly robust, so local ingredients were always affordable and good quality. He had learned to appreciate cooked vegetables along with the meat he was genetically predisposed to prefer. "My mother makes this wonderful pot roast," he muses fondly. "But that might take too long. Hmm... perhaps a roast lamb? Or is that too 'fancy'...?" His mind is like a slideshow of every dish he has ever enjoyed in his entire life... which probably long enough to wrap around Toril twice.

”I don’t think it’s too fancy at all. But pot roast made me think… how do you like beef Esmeltar? It’s beef stewed in red wine with onions and carrots and mushrooms,” she quickly explains. It’s delicious, it’s something she knows she can do well, it’s meat forward, and perhaps most importantly, it takes quite a bit of time to make, both in prep and cook time. “Or we can absolutely do lamb,” she hastens to add. “It was just a thought. I know it’s summer but I always enjoy a good stew.”

“Oh, that sounds right up my alley,” he agrees. “Beef Esmeltar.” His mouth waters, already imagining the scent of it cooking filling the air of her small apartment. He has to wipe his mouth with a napkin. “Do you have everything you need for it, or do we need to go grocery shopping?” he asks, tail swishing behind him. “I don’t mind joining you. Oh, and I can pay for the ingredients.” He glances back at the TV, an idle screensaver taking place of the movie. Eh, it’s not going anywhere.

”I’m not letting you pay, you got dinner last night and now lunch,” Helaena scoffs. “But yes, I’ll need to do a grocery run… Probably to the nice market if we want decent beef and a proper bottle of wine.” It always feels like the height of decadence to put a full bottle of wine in a pot of stew. She loves it, even if it’s not an indulgence she can afford often. Still, the poor man will go bankrupt if he keeps insisting on paying for things. “But you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want, you could always just go to the hotel while I’m shopping,” she reasons. She doesn’t know exactly where he’s staying but if it’s in Heapside it can’t be far. Her flat is near the border to the Steeps, but the postcode is still Heapside. That’s the only reason she can afford it. “Now, you strike me as a mashed potato guy… am I wrong in that?”

“But you’re cooking,” he argues. “I insist on paying. At least half.” That’s a pretty big concession for Boletus to make. “Which means I’ll be coming with you. Oh, but I can take a cab to my hotel and back first, then. I really just need a few changes of clothes… that actually fit me.” His shirt last night was too tight. The clothes he is wearing right now are downright ridiculous on him. This particular shirt will never look the same again. RIP. “The hotel is called Chionthar View. That’s not too far, I don’t think, is it?” He lets out a deep laugh at Helaena’s completely correct assumption. “I could swim in mashed potatoes, maybe even eat my way out of a pool full of them.”

Half is a victory. She’ll take half. “Half it is,” she agrees with a grin as she shoves another handful of fries in her face. Her appetite seems to have returned as the conversation lightened. “So beef Esmeltar, and enough mashed potatoes to swim in,” she confirms. Stew is terrible date food, really, far too heavy, but that doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Maybe he doesn’t realize? “Oh, Bo, the Chionthar View is just down by the river. It’s not far at all, you could easily walk.” It’s a slightly different direction than the bar they’d met in, but no further. “Honestly it’s almost on the way to the market I’ll have to visit. I can show you on my phone, the streets are a bit of a mess in the old town.”

“Oh! I had no idea it was that close.” It’s not like he was really paying much attention on the walk home. “But visit…?” Hoo, boy. “That’s fine…” he begins, looking uncertain. “But my friends, ah… they’re sharing a suite with me. And… how do I put it…” When Helaena was looking for easy, dumb army men on leave to seduce… Sellian and Jovany fit the bill way more than he did. “My friends might be there. You might have seen them at the bar. They’re… a lot?” He’s already planning on what he’ll do when he’s eventually bombarded, preparing himself to put on that “assertive Bo” personality he often has to bring out while on duty. He might as well text them to let them know he’s going to be on his way back soon, so he grabs the cell phone he has not once looked at even since stepping foot into Helaena’s apartment last night… All he can do is sigh at the 69 text messages on his phone. The most recent ones are still displayed on the front screen, which are just a string of eggplant and peach emoji’s and one message reminding him to “wrap that massive dick”. Against his better judgement, he opens his group chat with them to inform that he is swinging by to grab some clothes. Hello, it’s Bo. I’m stopping by within the next half hour to grab a couple of my things. I will be bringing a guest. Please, please do not scare her away. I really like her. -Boletus Zales

There’s a reply on Bo’s phone not even 5 seconds after he hits the send button. HE LIVES! HE LIVES!

HOLY SHIT?? So last night was a success? The legendary Bo weenie finally go to see some action?

And she’s coming over??? Uhhhh don’t go in my room please.

she can come in mine tho hehehe

Jovany, stfu. This is a big moment for Bo. Be a good boy and I’ll give you a reward~

promise, daddy???

Bo promptly puts his phone in do-not-disturb mode. “Sorry about that. I’m just going to ignore my phone for a while. Is it okay if I grab my clothes from the dryer and get changed?”

”Oh, I don’t have to- I didn’t mean-“ She was simply saying it was basically on the way, and was going to suggest she got started shopping or maybe wait outside while he grabbed what he needed, but… it’s not like she’s opposed? It’s not like she doesn’t remember his friends, how tall, dark and maybe a little dim was eyefucking her across the bar, and strawberry blonde all-Cormyran sweetheart all but pushed Bo in her direction. … She probably owes strawberry blonde a thank you. Or maybe a drink, if he wouldn’t take that as a proposition. “Uh, sure, we can go together, why not. It’s just a hotel room.” Bo is… the only Cormyte soldier she’s spoken to not either immediately before or after sleeping with them. At least in a recreational setting, a retired officer teaches a military history course she took as an elective. Most of them aren’t like Bo. Maybe she’ll get lucky and they won’t recognize her as the hussy their buddy picked up at a bar? She doubts it. “And oh, of course, it should be done by now.” It had been done for almost two hours. Bo had missed the beep since it was in the middle of the scene with the sarlacc and Jabba’s pleasure barge. “Help yourself in the bathroom, there should be a spare toothbrush in the top drawer.” She’d long had a habit of filching the tiny toiletries kits handed out in planes and left in the bathrooms of hotels. Someone might as well get use out of it.

Back in Helaena’s little bathroom, he gets dressed in what he was wearing before: his own trousers (with a nice hole for his tail, thank the gods) and Sellian’s slightly too-tight for him button up. At this point, he’s too annoyed to care, leaving the first four buttons undone just to give himself some breathing room. It’s a short walk, she said. It’s fine. He takes the time to brush his teeth, since Helaena offered, and he did just eat a rather greasy meal. After two minutes on the dot of brushing, he’s back out. “Ugh, I cannot wait to be back in my own clothes,” he groans. “This shirt isn’t mine, if that much was obvious. I just didn’t have anything ‘bar appropriate’ according to my friends. Personally, I disagree, but I didn’t have the energy to fight them on it.” The tiefling lives in sweaters and cardigans that seem like something a (albeit stylish) middle aged man might wear, not a 22 year old boy in the military. He doesn't even own a pair of jeans, and only wears sneakers to work out…

He has one more button undone than he did when she pulled him into her bed. She’s changed into simple summer clothes herself, a far cry from what she wore to the bar. Her face is unpainted, her hair mostly allowed to do its thing, the simple cut of the knee length dress more sweet than sexy by any stretch of the imagination. It’s a dress she’s worn to lunch with her grandmother. It is also not bar appropriate. It’s a floral print, for Gods’ sake. “I don’t know, I think it looks pretty good on you,” she muses as she plays with the collar of said too-tight shirt. “Are you ready to go?” Her arms wind around his neck as if she’s about to lean in to kiss him. As if they’re, well, a couple, instead of… Gods, what are they? She still wants to kiss him, so she does, a brief brush of lips that’s almost startlingly nonsexual. She just wanted to. I’m so fucking stupid. He tastes like her toothpaste.

He’s glad he decided to leave his shirt somewhat undone, because that brief, yet effortless kiss just makes his chest feel tight. This is what couples do, right? Pecks on lips done in greeting, or before leaving? Or just because? And by the gods, does Helaena look adorable in her sundress. His eyes fixate on the way the skirt twirls with even the most subtle movements, accentuating just how much her hips seem to sway in a way he never noticed. She was plenty attractive at the bar, but in a way that seemed so… in-your-face. Subtle beauties have always appealed to him more. But whether she’s wearing a skin-tight dress or her current flowy one, Bo seems to be just as affected. So here is his, a blushing mess like he was last night just because of one a small kiss and the casual touch of her arms around his neck. Get it together, Bo. She likes you, you like her. You’ve seen her naked. “Y-yes. I’m ready when you are,” he stutters, making his way to the door.

”Perfect,” she chirps, trying to be as normal about this as she can. She is in no way normal. Still, she manages to shove a few reusable shopping bags in her purse and lock up behind her, offering him a smile as she starts down the stairs. “So hotel first?” she suggests. “So you can be more comfortable, and we don’t have to haul groceries around,” she reasons. He does look uncomfortable in those clothes, the poor man. She hadn’t really noticed the night before, more keen to get him out of them, but still, he deserves to wear something that fits properly instead of her cast-offs. This part of the city is as known to her as the back of her own hand. It’s her home, plain and simple, even if she was raised and went to school a bit further west, in Bloomridge. Were she by herself, she’d probably have grabbed her bike, it’d make hauling groceries easier too, but, well, she’s not by herself. It’s a little strange, but in no way _bad_, to walk these streets with someone else. She could definitely get used to it. Don’t be stupid, Gods I’m so stupid.

“*Yes,*” he answers quickly. “Please. It really won’t take long, I promise.” He will not be letting his friends ambush her. In and out is the plan. As self-conscious as he feels in his shirt, it’s offset by predictably busy streets. He feels he can somewhat easily blend in with the afternoon Ninthday traffic. He's walked these streets alone a handful of times, though he finds it’s infinitely better with company. I wonder if she feels the same way. His tail stays tucked behind Helaena’s legs as they walk. You know, so it doesn’t accidentally hit anyone, right? It's a relatively silent stroll between the two, the hustle and bustle of the city making enough noise on its own. To Bo, it doesn’t feel awkward at all. There’s no pressure to make small talk, ask about this and that. All he has to do is walk forward. It's just so... nice. Eventually, the pair make it his hotel, a multistory building that, like it’s namesake implies, faces the river Chionthar. Bo’s suite is located at the very top, only affordable since it’s split evenly between the three men staying in it. Once he’s at his door, he turns to Helaena. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” he reassures, sounding way too serious for how unserious the situation actually is. Bo is just shy about being perceived in the context of having… a maybe girlfriend? Or is this what the kids call a “talking” stage? It's just all so confusing to a man raised by an extremely old-fashioned military couple.

The trip itself is painless, if the tiniest bit awkward, or perhaps just... new. Still, it's nice not to have to talk. Her natural introversion and tendency to be quiet if she's comfortable is another thing she tends to hide behind her masks, but... Bo isn't initiating a conversation, so he can't mind, can he? His reassurance confuses her, makes her a little nervous. Does it mean he doesn't want her to come in because he's embarrassed of her, or he does want her to but he's trying not to put pressure on her? For once, she decides to be brave. So she asks. "What would you prefer? I'm fine either way, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable." She really would be fine waiting outside. She could accept being a dirty little secret, for whatever reason, something he doesn't want his buddies to know about. Good enough to fuck, not good enough to introduce to his friends or family. What the fuck does she expect from a man she picked up in a bar _the night before_, anyway? Sure, he's taking her to a museum, and she's cooking him dinner, but it's still... it's just a summer fling at most, right? He'll be gone in 19 days, and probably barely even spare her a thought after that. End of story.

"Well, you're free to come in," he starts out a bit nervously. "I just don't want them to... dogpile you, I guess?" He has no idea if Helaena is as shy as he is. She certainly wasn't shy last night at the bar, but he's determined that was mostly a performance on her part. So what is the real Helaena like? Maybe this is his chance to find out. "It would be nice," he decides. "My friends might be a bit rowdy, but they're good guys. For the most part." The sense of camaraderie he feels for them, and the rest of his friends, is one he cherishes more than he realizes.

Oh shit, does she actually want to come in? How had she not actually considered that? "Uh, sure, I'll come in." The mask she wore the night before would handle all three of them without blinking. Go home with at least one, and say goodbye with a sultry wink well before dawn. Just Helaena? Just Helaena's only boyfriend's friends were people she already knew. She never had to be introduced to any of them, she was in classes with almost all of them. Not that Bo's her boyfriend. That'd be silly. That's a term reserved for people who are committed to each other, who know each other, not people who met in a bar less than 24 hours ago. "What are your friends' names? Just so I don't make a complete fool of myself." She tries to break the silence with a small chuckle, but it sounds more nervous than anything. "Sorry, I'm not really- this is a new situation to me." Why did she admit that?

“The brunette’s name is Jovany. He’s the more obnoxious of the two,” he replies with an easy laugh. “And the blonde man… his name is Sellian.” His feelings toward Sellian have dulled over the years, thankfully. These days, the pang in his chest when he sees him lasts for less than a second. Bo has come a long, long way. He stops himself from opening the door at Helaena’s admission. “Oh? Well, that’s okay,” he reassures. “This is new for me, too.” Helaena is the first partner he's ever had that he felt comfortable enough to formally (well, maybe not as formally as he would have liked) ask out on a date. He thinks this could go somewhere, so he thinks his friends ought to meet her, even if it's potentially awkward. So he finally opens the door, where Sellian is sitting alone on the couch like a parent that was getting ready to scold their child for sneaking out. “Sellian…” he greets nervously. “Um, what are you doing? And where’s Jo-“

“Naughty, naughty,” says the blonde with a wag of his finger. “Little Bo peep stayed out all night and most of the day, and just now decided to text his friends? We thought that girl at the bar murdered you!” He looks over to Helaena and starts to laugh. “Just kidding, I knew you two were just having fun. Must have been a success, eh?” he teases, complete with a wink. The man, who is leaner than Bo, but just as tall, approaches Helaena with a hand outstretched. “I’m Bo’s army boyfriend, Sellian. And you?”

He just rolls his eyes. “I’m going to grab some things from my room. You don’t have to indulge him if you don’t want to.” His words sound harsh, but the tone is surprisingly friendly and full of fondness for the man.

”Jovany and Sellian,” she echoes in a mumble, committing the name to memory. So Jovany’s the flirt and Sellian’s drunk-but-well-meaning. She remembers their faces, but now she has names to attach to them. This is new for me, too. She tries to let herself be reassured by those words, even as her horrible brain comes up with a million ways it could be a lie or a half truth. The fact of the matter is she wants to trust Bo. She just… doesn’t, not fully, not yet. She’s too scared to. Still, she’s determined to be brave. Whatever that means. Helaena is a little surprised at the implication she might have murdered a man at least twice her size, but hey, it’s nice to be overestimated for once. The masculine teasing is almost nostalgic. It reminds her of her brother and his friends shooting the shit, or the friendships she watches from the sidelines at school. “Army boyfriend? Goodness, are you exclusive? I’d hate to step on any toes,” she jokes as she shakes Sellian’s hand, her smile almost-genuine but tinged with well-hidden nerves. “I’m Helaena, but almost everyone calls me Laena.” Her smile flickers for a moment as Bo leaves, but he’s only next door and Sellian’s hardly scary, if admittedly very large. What do they feed them in that army?

“I’m willing to share,” he laughs as he returns the handshake. “Especially with a cute girl like you.” He sits back down on the couch, sipping at a half-drunk beer that’s been sitting out all day, so it’s definitely warm. “So, Laena? Hope my Bo peep is treating you well? You can tell me if he’s not, and I’ll beat his ass for you.” He knows Bo is treating her well, of course. He’s known the man since before they enlisted together. No, he’s actually more worried about Helaena mistreating him. Treating him like a toy. Sellian is actually shocked that some flirty chick who was clearly there to pick up men (or women, who knows) is actually still hanging around. Was his dick that good? Maybe he has just misjudged her. He hopes so, because he knows Bo’s heart is as fragile as glass.

She hovers a bit awkwardly before sitting down in an armchair. At least in a hotel she doesn’t have to worry about the cleanliness. Or, well, not as much. “Bo’s been a perfect gentleman, so no need for any ritual retribution taken for my honor. But thank you for offering.” Years of observing from the sidelines has taught her to read motivations. Feelings. Sellian’s question is friendly on the surface, but he’s obviously testing her. Good. That means he cares about Bo. That he’s a true friend. Why does she actually care? Helaena adjusts the hair covering her shoulders a little self consciously, the bite marks there visible if you look for them even through the makeup she applied to cover them. “How long have you known him? Just on this posting, or?”

“Good to hear,” he nods. “That means I don’t need to poison his protein shakes or something.” He’s happy to find that Helaena has some wit, matching his banter with her own very easily. That’s good. He knows Bo needs someone like that to pull him out of that “serious mode” he so often finds himself stuck in. The Edulis’s are nice, but boy are they hard asses. He’s met them many times, and is not surprised in the slightest Bo turned out the way he did. “And we’ve known each other since middle school. I moved to Cormyr from Berdusk shortly after my 12th birthday. I’d actually never meet a tiefling in my life before, so I just yapped at him until he became my friend. He’s a good guy.” As he speaks, he can’t help but notice how different this Helaena seems. She looks a whole new person without all that makeup on… “I guess you’re local here? The Gate’s a nice place. It’s definitely the best place we’ve been stationed at so far.”

”Berdusk? In Elturgard?” She’s a political science major. Of course she knows basic geography. Still, it seems more polite to pose it as a question. “And yes, Gate born and bred. My grandmother was born in Rivington but that’s about as far reaching as the immediate family gets,” she quips, naming one of the major suburbs outside the Gate proper. She hadn’t really considered Elturgard or Cormyr might be significantly less diverse than the Gate, especially outside the major cities. It’s one thing to know the demographic fact Cormyr has few enough tieflings they’re statistically insignificant, not even a category recorded in their censuses, and another to realize Bo might quite possibly be the only tiefling many of his friends back home have met. There were two tieflings in her middle school class. At least a dozen in her year in high school. Similar numbers in her undergrad courses. Tieflings to her aren’t much more unusual than elves, and less so than halflings and dwarves and gnomes. From her somewhat naive perspective, they’re all just people. Othering Bo because he has horns would be as absurd to her as othering her sister’s best friend because he has a darker skin tone.

He can hear bits and pieces of the conversation from his room, trying his best to hold himself back from interrupting the Helaena Grilling Hour. Sellian almost sounds like a parent trying to see if she's worthy of him. That sort of friendly protectiveness was one of the things caused Bo to have feelings towards him in the first place. Tieflings were indeed so rare in Cormyr, that Bo had never met another until enlisting and being stationed off in Calimsham, where they had a sizable refugee population. This meant he was the perfect target of rude or insensitive comments, even from his teachers. And who was always there to stick up for him? The man just outside his door sizing up a girl he likes under the guise of polite conversation.

“Unless there’s another Berdusk out there, then yes,” he answers lightheartedly. “So are you and Bo-“

And out comes the tiefling, wearing a light-knit navy sweater with a white button-up underneath. He’s in a different pair of khaki trousers now, these a bit darker in wash. How daring of him. Overall, he looks a lot more comfortable… and a lot more like a grandpa. “Sorry for the wait,” he apologizes with a slight bow of his head. He walks toward Helaena and places a hand on her shoulder. “I hope my nosy little friend here wasn’t bothering you too much.” Slung over his own shoulder is a modestly sized duffel bag, which contains some pajamas, toiletries, and an outfit for tomorrow’s date. The look of relief on his face from wearing his own clothes and actually being prepared is totally obvious.

He looks far more comfortable in his own clothes, even if they seem a little heavy for the warm weather. Oh well, he can always remove a layer if he needs to. “Don’t be sorry, Sellian was just asking for my full family history and possibly all the information listed in my passport,” she jokes, shooting Sellian an amused smile. She can’t help but blush at the easy touch, a little affectionate, perhaps even possessive. I’m reading too much into things. “We were planning on heading down to the markets in the Steeps to grab some fixings for dinner,” she explains easily, like making stew for a man she just met is completely normal for her. “It’s not too far to walk, and they have a lot of nice shops and restaurants there, and some great butchers and grocers and specialty shops.” The best seafood in the Gate short of going down to the boats yourself, too.

"Oh? Well, run off then, you crazy kids," he says with a laugh. "And don't get into any strange vans, even if they're offering candy or designer handbags at incredible prices." He raises his warm beer to the couple as a sign of approval. Good gods, Bo really lucked out here. Glad I was able to hold Jovany back the other night. Where is Jovany, by the way? Sellian forced him to go out on a beer run, of course. He wasn't about to let him ruin this.

"Right... we'll keep an eye out," he says with a slight eyeroll. "Tell Jovany I said hello." He offers out a hand to Helaena, before he looks like he just forgot to turn the iron off or something. "Oh, darn. I'm going to need to leave my duffel bag here," he sighs. "We could-"

"Hey, I don't mind dropping it off once you guys are done," he offers quickly. "Can't be too far, yeah? Since I know you two walked home together, and the bar isn't far from here..."

"Oh, only if it's no trouble, I wouldn't want to make you run all around Heapside," she worries, her brow furrowed as she considers she's about to give her home address to another giant military man. When she's not in the depths of a depression spiral she has a quite a bit lower risk tolerance. Still, Sellian seems nice, and Bo obviously loves him, and it's not like Bo doesn't know where she lives if not perhaps the whole address written down, so the potential harm is limited, right? Her hand hovers in the air for a moment before taking Bo's, another sign of trust, another "normal couple" thing that'll let her pretend for a little longer. I'm so stupid. "But no, it's not far at all, it's just a few blocks over from the Blushing Mermaid, if you know it." That particular pub is a bit too rowdy for her even when she's making poor decisions. She likes to avoid bar fights when she can. No, her small, comfortable neighborhood bar where the bartender gives her extra lime for her dark n stormies without her asking and she knows every exit route suits her much better.

“Oh! Yeah yeah, I know the place. It’s not far at all, so don’t you worry about me,” he says with a little hand wave. “You two have fun grocery shopping, and I’ll be anxiously awaiting to come to your rescue with your overnight bag afterwards.” He stands to pat both Bo and Helaena on the shoulder as a final send-off. “Was nice meeting you, Laena.”

“Thank you, Sel,” he replies, dropping his bag on the floor by the chair. “I’ll text you later.”

“You’d better! Now go on, git.” He’s actually pushing the “couple” towards the door now, secretly anxious that Jovany will be back any minute to delay this obviously blossoming romance developing before his very eyes. Please let this work out… pleeeeease…

"Lovely to meet you too, Sellian!" Helaena calls on the way out the door, feeling quite adequately rushed out of there. Did the soldier have other plans, perhaps? "So, uh, grocery shopping?" she offers as they walk down the hotel hallways, still hand in hand. It's... nice. Really nice. Turns out it's only better without the rush of alcohol and anticipation in her blood. "I made a list, but... I mean, there's different recipes, you don't have to add parsley root, for example, my dad just always did that." Still, her preferred recipe is very much on the traditional side. Red wine forming the base of a rich, meaty stew of beef, bacon, root vegetables, alliums, mushrooms and herbs, served with bread and/or mashed potatoes. Her mouth waters a little thinking about it, despite it taking hours of work to make.

“I’m leaving whatever ingredients you’d want to use in your very capable hands,” he replies. “I’m merely offering my services as a pack mule.” Carrying a bunch of groceries versus carrying a bunch of gear on a dusty battlefield? It’s no contest. He is indeed still holding her hand, and does so even as they stroll along the still-busy streets. It’s nice, and Helaena doesn’t seem uncomfortable with it. Her hands are so small. “I’m really looking forward to this,” he mentions offhandedly, just looking to finally fill the silence a little. “It’s not often I get to eat something home-cooked, so thank you very much in advance.”

That makes a lot of sense, even if it makes her a little sad. He probably doesn’t get to go home to his parents very often, and army mess halls are notoriously more about function than flavor. “You’re very welcome, Bo. I consider it returning the favor from this morning. Thank you again, for the pancakes.” Thank you for wanting to stick around to making them. Thank you for being the first man I picked up in a bar that didn’t end up making me feel at least a little cheap. Thank you for treating me like a person instead of a means to an end. She wants to believe he is exactly what he seems so badly. A sweet, somewhat lonely soldier boy with more affection and care than he knows what to do with. Perhaps the luckiest break she’s ever had. But she doesn’t get to be that lucky. Does she? “And for indulging me with the Star Wars,” she continues. “We can finish watching it when we get back, there wasn’t that much of it left.”

"I suppose that's a fair trade," he concedes. He made breakfast, paid for lunch, and now she's cooking dinner. Fair and even. No favors owed. "And I wasn't indulging you. Well, maybe I was at first, but I did genuinely like those movies. I'm very excited to finish up the third one!" He swings their hands together a bit, just because he really truly is excited. Inside the market, it's just at busy as it was on the streets, everyone there likely shopping for their Ninthday dinner just like they are. It is so pleasantly normal, it almost makes him want to cry. "So, you probably know this market much better than I do, but I'm happy to help however I can. Er, maybe I can help you reach things on the top shelf?"

”Oh my, packhorse and willing to reach the tall shelves? What a gentleman.” Her voice is light and teasing as she guides him towards the butcher, the good one, because damn it all if this won’t be the best beef Esmeltar she’s ever made. The markets are set up like many small shops in one place, a spice shop here, a chocolatier there, fishmongers, butchers, delis… she loves it. The crowds are a bit much, though, the rush of noise and activity enough she reaches for a small, round case tucked into her purse and quickly putting in two silicone-tipped earplugs, her shoulders relaxing minutely in relief as the noise reduces to a tolerable level. She’d never wear them to a bar, there’s few more obvious signs of an autistic weirdo than wearing earplugs in public, but now, well… she hopes Bo won’t mind, but it’s either that or leaving her more exhausted than she’d prefer to be. At the butcher’s, she orders more beef than she usually eats in a tenday with a straight face and not a moment’s hesitation, even if she winces a little at the price as she swipes her card but dutifully saves the receipt for later.

At first, Bo assumes Helaena is putting in wireless headphones, but he doesn't see her take out her phone, or even a music player. Ear plugs, then? It is loud, but he's used to loud. He simply says nothing, because he doesn't want to add to the noise if it bothers her so much. Plus, she clearly knows what she's doing ordering this and that from the different shops. A local in her habitat. Besides, the silence gives him a chance to really immerse himself. Even on his days off, he never bothered to come to a market like this. If he was getting dinner with his friends, they would be going to a pub. If he was alone, well, he could cook basic meals for himself in the dinky little communal kitchen on base, but always went to the much closer bodega when he needed ingredients. The noise is nice, he decides. It's proof that people are living their lives with a passion and vibrancy that illustrates that they have nothing to worry about. True peace. The bags pilling up on his biceps feel like air to him.