animatedsmoke | Shipping

Shipping

Who: Potemkin and Ky Kiske
What: Potemkin has a wingman he never wanted.
When: Xrd-ish
Where: Various

Potemkin is the sort of person to assign some significance to dreams. What better medium is there for man to express his inner thoughts than a form of pure imagery and absurdity? However, the time has come for him to be exposed as a hypocrite, as he is sorely tempted to throw this one out. It took place in a vague location that he couldn't name or describe, but there was warmth, natural sunlight, and at his side the form of a man he respected very much, reclining on him like his body was as non threatening as the arm of a couch. It was pleasant, enough so that Potemkin woke up not dramatically, without shame or disgust. All that was of his reaction was a quiet moment of thinking. He had lain there, awake and in darkness, holding his own subconscious to judgement, if he really believed Ky would accept him like that. Or anyone would, for that matter.

He is perfectly fine never finding out.

"Potemkin, you know the importance of a warrior's heart, am I wrong?"

The Secret Service Agent slash Ambassador's attention is summoned the moment when he is called, in the personal office of the President of Zepp. So far it had been an ordinary day of duty. "Of course, sir. A man has no power worth using if nothing from the heart is at stake."

"And it's not worth it for a man to neglect the matters of his own heart. "

He's not sure where this is heading, but he holds his turn of the conversation, prepped to listen to every word coming from his commander.

"Potemkin, even the cadets who skip physical training can tell that you've come down with something. I, who have looking over you for many years, know these things on sight."

Somehow, despite not yet understanding what he could be referring to, Potemkin can feel dread chill his skin.

"You seem to be hoping that these feelings can be waited out, for months, for years, but I won't stand to watch you wait that long in solitude. Potemkin, you should know I welcome anyone who could offer my understudy companionship."

"Mister President!" Potemkin couldn't keep in a small outburst. Disrespectful, undoubtedly, but it's not like this is something that could possibly be happening. Another impossibility is that, although half his face is covered by his arms bent on the desk, Potemkin can swear that Gabriel is grinning behind those hands.

"Anyone, whether they be a Zeppian or an Illyrian, a serf or a king. But, these things can come with more complications than what is warranted. So I've taken the liberty to write a persuasive missive for you that accentuates your natural charm. No one on this earth could see this and not be convinced to at least check you out. An initial date should do for now."

Running will not help even if he could; Potemkin's legs have been frozen in place. Potemkin is cornered and facing the terrifying question that he doesn't know the man in front of him. Perhaps he never did.

"Sir, I don't think that's necessary - "

"Your input should have been asked for sooner. I had the transmission sent 35 minutes ago."

From the State Office of the Independent State of the Zepp Republic

It has come to my attention that the finest soldier of my personal guard holds affection for you, so great it weighs down the conscience to ignore. You've already been made familiar with his personage based on incidents in the past, but the occasion calls for a reintroduction.

Single, male, not overly antisocial but the quiet type. Requires little upkeep in terms of time or attention, since he is able to occupy himself with work or independent hobbies. Very little experience. He is a late bloomer in that respect, but like the blossoms that are earned from years of nurturing a flowering tree, it is a devotion more rewarding than any other. As someone who has placed the security of my life in his charge, I can state that your happiness will be the only thing on his mind. He is an impeccably neat man and does all his own housekeeping, and has a practical level of cooking.

Any further inquiry can be forwarded to this address.

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To say Ky was surprised to see the message is an understatement. If it had come from anyone else, he would have thought it some sort of unusual prank. But President Gabriel was not the sort of man who would throw a trusted soldier's pride to the wind over something so frivolous. Which meant this was either a genuine message of interest or a message with a hidden meaning. It was rather difficult to tell; it wouldn't be unusual to receive the latter, after all, particularly if the message was one that couldn't be said aloud. Receiving a message of interest would be far more unusual in comparison.

But still. This is from President Gabriel. A decent and honorable man. If he had no choice but to disguise his letter this way, then surely he would use himself rather than his subordinate as the subject.

Well. Either way, Ky's interest is piqued. Wanting to get to the bottom of this, he responds positively and offers to schedule time to meet with the President's dear soldier. A date, a time, a place — preferably someplace private — and Ky would give his word to be there.

It's when Ky responds that Potemkin realizes he has no idea what to do in this situation, or what he ever intended to do. What is absolutely out of the question is ignoring it. He would never. With those conditions then there was really only one inevitable course of action. With a heaviness in pressing each key, he puts down his follow up message, the way he's dragging himself making it come off as very curt. Time: 1200 hours. Location: Zepp Horticultural Gardens. It is easy enough to reserve a chamber for a day.

His commander gave one last bit of parting reassurance. "Potemkin, on my honor, if he breaks your heart, nothing will be able to save him."

Potemkin didn't find that very comforting.

When the day comes, he appears simultaneously dressed down and dressed up compared to his usual. Technically there's nothing out of the territory of what an ordinary person would wear on a normal day, but he probably wouldn't have picked these flat shoes and this collared shirt out of the blue. There is plenty of time to pick out and sit at a delicate lacey patio table, because Potemkin always arrives earlier than what was called for. That may have been a mistake this time. Potemkin has to keep his hand balled up, because if he tugs on his bowtie any further then he's certain he'll rip it off.

How fortunate for Potemkin, then, that Ky has shown up exactly on time. For a man who is constantly seen in uniform, dressing down actually marks more of a special occasion than dressing up would. Make no mistake, he's still wearing a dress shirt and dress pants. (God forbid he be too casual.) But, this time, the addition of a rather comfortable-looking sweater over the dress shirt tones down what might otherwise be an overly formal attire.

His posture is still as straight and proud as possible, though. He still manages to look like he's marching in formation as he approaches Potemkin. And, oh, what a sight the Zeppian soldier makes right now. The man looks surprisingly charming. Ky might not have recognized him if it weren't for the unmistakably large stature.

"Potemkin," he greets with a kind smile. "I hope you weren't waiting for long."

In turn, Potemkin stands and comes up to him with a confident walk, like they had been summoned to talk about a diplomatic issue and not a glorified dating ad.

"There has been no inconvenience, King Kiske. In fact, before you came, I had time to pick out something in advance."

Potemkin had been clenching his fists hard enough to strain the knuckles, but throughout that he had been careful to only touch the tips of his fingers to the palm with one hand, the one holding a bouquet. There within his closed fist he left enough space so that not one flower was bruised. From his side he sweeps and opens his hand in front of Ky - daisies, with white petals and yellow heads. They feel out of place for the season, but this is a greenhouse after all.

"These flowers, because they hold such beauty, reminded me of you, because you are also beautiful."

The symbolism seemed a lot more nuanced before he said it out loud. He doesn't feel urged to take those words back (he meant it all), but he waits for Ky's reaction.

The surprise is evident on Ky's face as he regards the gift. The castle grounds of Illyria are decorated with plenty of roses, but daisies are less common. The thought that Potemkin took the time to pick a bouquet rather than purchase one strikes Ky as a... classically romantic move. Not to mention the words that followed the gifting. He wouldn't have pinned Potemkin as the sort.

Then again, he's quickly figuring out there is more to Potemkin for him to learn about.

It's intriguing and, despite his earlier intent to first treat this akin to a diplomatic meeting before determining Potemkin was sincere, a small smile blossoms on his lips. Ky takes the daisies carefully in his hands, taking care to be just as gentle as the giant man.

"Thank you," he says, voice going soft with gratitude. "These are lovely. You've rendered me speechless with your kindness."

Potemkin's severe presence can feel inescapable sometimes, but his body seems to fall back like a snowbank in the sun under that smile. His shoulders lower a little in relief from a tension he didn't realize he was holding until it was over, and he feels like he can breathe again. He had more at stake in that than he was willing to admit.

And, rejection or not, he really didn't want to see Ky eat an Agni X.

...is this what it's going to feel like forever? Maybe romance is meant for men of stronger wills and better nerves than him, and he should quit while he still can.

But what Ky says is encouraging, and what it promises is enticing enough for him to not give up. He starts to turn in the direction of the fenced path out of this little courtyard, waiting so that Ky can be at his side. "You are welcome. We can start on the walk while we talk more."

"A sound plan," he responds brightly. Ky holds the flowers safely in his hands, promptly moving to fall into position at Potemkin's side. Standing by the larger man is like standing next to a wall; he's a little certain he could be shielded from the sun if he positioned himself properly. Not that he has anything against the sun, but it's interesting to ponder.

He begins walking with Potemkin, pacing himself more slowly than his usual, brisk, purposeful gait in an effort to be more... casual. Hopefully. "Will we be touring through the Gardens today?"

Potemkin notices Ky's deliberate effort to be casual, with a reaction that's between repressed internal screaming and nervous sweat. He's aware that's a sign that he should try that for himself, but it's easier to think than do it. Each step he takes, he tries loosening up from a rank-and-file march (it is comforting to lean on old training habits, but it's hurting him now) to something that might be called strolling without looking too conspicuous about it. A little knee shake snuck here and there.

At least his voice isn't failing him. Potemkin continues in the baritone he's known for. "Correct. The paths are arranged to always provide the visitors a diverse collection, no matter which way they walk through them. I think this is a pleasant way of spending an afternoon." And I hope by the end of it you know at least a little about why I fell for you, but Potemkin leaves that bit unsaid.

"I agree," Ky says pleasantly. "I'm looking forward to our walk. I don't often have an opportunity to visit your nation's gardens, especially like this."

'This' being their current, casual stroll. Of course, as King, he was given a brief tour of the gardens. But that was merely a diplomatic gesture done before settling down to discuss more important matters. It was difficult to take in the beauty of the gardens very well when his mind was preoccupied.

"Do you visit here often?" He asks curiously, making a bit of small talk.

"Unfortunately I have to say no. I am in the same position in you are, despite the geography."

In other words, they're both very busy men. Making things worse, when Potemkin found himself not busy for once, he tended to look for more work to take on. In fact, this is one of the reasons why he considers himself not a good partner for anyone. He would feel too sympathetic to the poor soul who would seek out the time of a man who would rebuff them for duty. Though if anyone would be understanding, then it would be someone with the fate of a whole nation over their head.

If Potemkin came here more recently, he would have remembered that these paths tend to start with a trellis near the beginning. While it is a fine piece, draped with flowering vines, Potemkin is stopped in his tracks in order to calculate how to fit through it.

"I understand what you mean." He truly does. Potemkin is right to assume Ky would know what it meant to sacrifice personal time for duties. The majority of Ky's waking moments are spent addressing everything from field reports to governance, although he does manage to squeeze in a moment to enjoy a cup of tea every now and then. (Though tea can be enjoyed while going through paperwork, which means he's just working again... he's not the best at completely relaxing.)

"There is still much to do in both our nations, but at least progress is being made," he continues, stepping under the lovely trellis the welcomed them into the garden...

...only to pause when he notices Potemkin is no longer next to him. He stops, looks around, wondering why his walking partner has stopped in his tracks. It isn't until the question is on the tip of his tongue when it hits him.

"...oh."

Oh. It's all he can say. He didn't even think about the trellis and Potemkin's size. Is this a common issue for the man? Does he have to stop at every doorway and consider how to enter? Ky wants to help, somehow, but he's at a loss of what to do.

It looks even more ridiculous since the mostly empty wooden structure looks so light Potemkin could lift it and leave it behind him, but that would uproot all the plants. He would have to make repayments to the gardens for their time and work lost, and these flowers aren't cheap. So for all his power the soldier has been done in by style.

"I can handle this," he says under-breath, as he starts to crouch and bend-over as much as he can, while turning so the width of his shoulders isn't facing the trellis. The fact that he has a whole ritual for this probably confirms Ky's thoughts. What's next is to crab-walk sideways, slowly...

Visitors were probably not meant to get that close to the arch, since even when he barely passes through Potemkin gets some flowers dragged with him for his efforts. He stands on same side as Ky, hesitating on whether he should pick them off his clothes (especially on his shoulders it looks like he's been sprinkled with something) or try and forget that just happened.

It's such a unique situation to think about that Ky can't help but stare as Potemkin shuffles through the trellis. This looks like a problem Potemkin is familiar with tackling. It's strange how Ky has never considered it before, honestly. Whether it's due to disinterest or obliviousness doesn't really matter — in the end, it only makes him curious to know more about Potemkin on a more personal level.

When the larger man has made it through, Ky quietly watches him for a moment. There's nothing to be ashamed of, from his standpoint, but Potemkin's hesitation makes him wonder if the man is embarrassed. He decides to alleviate that discomfort as soon as possible.

He steps closer and reaches towards Potemkin's shoulders, extending his hand in an offer to pluck off the remaining flowers. "May I?"

It's not a problem that comes up everyday. The architectural style of the times favors the grandiose at least in most publicly visited locations, and Zepp in particular was mostly built big to fit military vehicles through. It's only in places that tried to insert a bit of grace that this popped up.

The soldier can back up most of what he held pride in, but Potemkin definitely has an overly high opinion of his ability to hide inconvenient feelings (which is how he ended up in this situation in the first place). He actually looks surprised that Ky could notice and is now approaching him like he's been found out.

"Oh. Of course."

Potemkin kneels slightly, so that Ky can reach his shoulders easily. This brings him to eye level with the other man, which is only kept for a second before Potemkin's eyes dart away to a direction vaguely toward the ground. Realizing he's this close to the man gave a jolt of fear akin to the vertigo from looking down a steep cliff.

Ky doesn't notice him avoiding his gaze, focused on the task of plucking petals from Potemkin's shoulders. His fingers move lightly along the cloth, though he can't help the occasional tug when a flower is particularly stubborn. There are a couple rather close to Potemkin's collar as well — hopefully, the other man won't mind the briefest brush of fingers against his neck as he tidies up that area as well.

It is, by far, not Ky's intention to be so teasing. He's rather oblivious to his actions.

"It's almost a shame to remove these, to be honest," Ky says in a low, gentle voice. It's a tone he typically reserves for those close to him. "They suit you very well."

The fleeting touch of Ky's hands on his shoulders makes him feel much closer than any eye contact could achieve. It's for the better that this took him by surprise, had he thought it out entirely he would have declined him earlier, but now that Ky is picking at his clothes he realizes that would have been a mistake. This feels... pleasant. Potemkin's eyes rest, his avoidance now pointless, and his body seems to follow, for even though there is not a single part of him that isn't bound in muscle he puts up as much resistance as a pillow under Ky.

He is so relaxed, he mumbles out, "Hmm, you give kind words so easily."

Isn't that stating the obvious. It's the quality no one could forget to list, that Ky has a goodness which he doesn't hold back under any restriction.

"I can't say that they don't feel nice," he goes on, braving a little closer to his real feelings.

Edited (added 'that') 2016-09-17 04:28 (UTC)

Ky's smile is small, but pure. He feels like they're toeing the line of courtship, but he isn't about to try pushing that assumption just yet. They've just barely begun their path into the gardens.

"I'm pleased to hear that," he says in return. Ky drops his hand once the petals are cleared from Potemkin's shoulders. "As I only speak the truth."

Thankfully, he ends his statement there and refrains from going any further into cheesy (but genuine) declarations. Ky takes a step back towards Potemkin's side, gesturing lightly towards the garden path. "Shall we?"

Fortunately the rest of the greenhouse is lacking in tight fits, and actually is quite spacious. It was necessary to have enough room to fit the displays while providing the illusion of this being the outdoors. The results are a great success, unless one takes a look up at the sky, where one will see the bars of the roof. But until then, it might as well be the open air, with enough sunlight coming through to make for a radiant afternoon.

Potemkin makes a general wave toward the myriad types of flowers. "I went with daisies because I don't know what your favorite flower is. I could learn that about you, for a start." He just thought daisies felt right for Ky when he saw them. This answer could help out for future dates, but that's an unfathomably distant idea to Potemkin.

Edited (changed some words) 2016-10-01 01:28 (UTC)

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Shipping

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/slowly crawls back into here.........

[Hammerpants shuffles into the room]

that made me think of potemkin doing an mc hammer shuffle... this is the greatest mental image

2/2

Turns out he actually can move his legs!

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