Koumyou moves to sit up, reaching over to hold that hand with both of his, rubbing it between them.
"You're not being stupid, you're--" a glance at Yondu, because Koumyou doesn't know how much of Devero's background is okay to allude to-- "traumatized."
That should be safe. Surely, Yondu doesn't think Koumyou's with someone who isn't damaged in some terrible way.
Now that Koumyou's moved he just shifts that other arm and does what he did for Soldat, what he did for Crowley, and brushes Devero's hair away from his ear with surprisingly gentle (if calloused) blue fingers.
"You don't gotta pretend to be all hard around me. That just messes ya up even worse." He knows why he's just walked away from some conversations.
Yondu absolutely thinks Koumyou would fuck and be friends with some fucked up people. But he doesn't necessarily consider that to be a bad thing.
Devero stills when he feels fingers on his ear that are too rough to be Koumyou's, seeming to freeze entirely for a moment. See, here's a thing about Devero, a legitimate and honest thing that his abuser had seized and corrupted: he craves intimacy.
The reason he'd slept around so casually in the Guard was not only in pursuit of that fun high of good sex, but just as much for the affection and cuddling before and after. That covered the physical intimacy. And he'd gotten much of the emotional intimacy he craved from his squad, his sibs-in-arms who he could rely on and trust in emotionally. Especially once he'd been accepted as a Scorpion, Scorpions were tight. While he would have liked a romantic relationship too-- he'd pursued a couple, even, though they never panned out-- his needs were met.
Then had come his discharge, and Valdana. Valdana, who'd used his joy in sex and his need to feel close to someone to reel him in, playing out just enough affection to make sure she had him good and hooked. Slowly she'd reeled him in, until he was close enough for her to use the line that bound them to lash him at her feet and start contorting him into the shape she wanted him to take. Her affection had become entirely performative, entirely transactional; the little emotional intimacy they shared evaporated.
And then she'd made sure he was isolated from his friends and coworkers.
The Devero who had boarded the train was touched-starved, affection-starved, intimacy-starved, and though he's come a long way since then, well. He still craves intimacy.
He turns his head out of the pillow so he can peer at Yondu and Koumyou beyond him with one eye. "I-- I'm--" He has to take a deep breath. Just say it. Just fucking say it, Devero. "Polyam doesn't-- cover it, I'm a-- just a fucking slut--" And his heart twists, identifying himself that way.
Back into the pillow he goes, a tremor shaking him.
Koumyou's in a rough spot, here, because he can only respond so specifically without airing Devero's business. But he has to respond, there's literally no way he could not.
He squeezes the hand caught in both of his, and then lifts it while leaning down over Yondu to give the back of that hand a kiss.
"That just... sounds like something she used as a tool to hurt you with," Koumyou says gently, "You've told me a few times your libido is 'too much', but I don't think it is. I think it's just something she found convenient to leverage against you. Think about how key that idea is to her control of you, and you'll see it."
"I don't know what happened to ya, but I don't know what's bad about that. I just said that I slept around. It can be good money. My boy sure as hell did. That ain't bad by a reach." That's what he can offer from what he sees.
In his eyes, the world is full of hands out to grab and squeeze the last of whatever's good out of you. Maybe it's a little shameful to try and sap up something sweeter and kinder, but you know it's better than being dried out from having someone wring the last of what's good in ya out over and over again. His history, though, like Koumyou's, is more heavily steeped in violence.
Of course, Yondu's reasons were to fill a void. It was only shaming in that he couldn't manage the kind of relationship he wanted, but sleeping around? He saw nothing wrong about it so long as you were smart about it. (Or even if you were stupid about it but weren't a bastard in the process).
He brushes his thumb along the curve of his ear, Devero's vision blocked briefly by blue wrist as he mouths an 'Do I need to move?' He doesn't say it out loud, just gives the cartilage a couple of passes before brushing his fingers through actual strands again.
Devero's fingers curl desperately in Koumyou's, clinging to his hands like they're an anchor.
After so long, it's hard to consider his libido anything other than a liability. He wants to argue with Koumyou, to rebut, but he can feel that instinct coming from the wounded animal part of himself and he bites his tongue on it. Instead he listens, and what he hears is Koumyou neatly identifying from whom these convictions came in the first place and Yondu's easy assertion that there's nothing wrong with sleeping around.
He doesn't actually want to think about this right now. Its still too close and too raw, it's power over him too great. But what they're saying speaks to that younger Devero who'd shared around his intimacy so easily, and had never been able to entirely force himself to believe what Madame said later about him being a predator.
Right now, he doesn't feel like a predator, even as he curls up a little against Yondu, tucking his head in the hollow of the man's shoulder. Needy. Pathetic. Emotional vampire. He bites his lip and shakes his head minutely. "Please don't stop," he whispers, barely audible.
"She always said I was dangerous," he says, louder but still subdued. "I never-- I never wanted to violate someone's consent. I just wanted..." To feel seen? To feel needed? To feel loved, even if only for an hour or two. "...to have fun."
And his voice gets small again, if not quite whisper-small, when he adds for Yondu's edification, "I was-- in a-- b-bad relationship, back home."
Koumyou makes a snap decision, just then. He manages to climb up and over the other two without letting go of Devero's hand -- he's very nimble, when he wants to be. He tells Yondu, "Scoot over, please."
Time to re-arrange things a bit.
As the other man scoots, he'll find Devero's moving with him, several tendrils of the sutra simply sliding under the big guy and moving him over. Koumyou climbs back onto the bed as room opens up, still holding Devero's hand through-out. The extra tendrils of the sutra vanish back into thin air, as usual.
Yondu's got the hair-petting covered, so Koumyou just drapes himself against Dev's back, a solid anchor in the storm, and squeezes his hand again.
"Devero," he speaks gently, but also firmly at the same time, using the authority of his priestly training for once, "You have never struck me as someone who would violate consent, not ever. And... even I know what that kind of person is like."
He may have been untouched before Devero, but that doesn't mean he hasn't dealt with that kind of person. Like, say, Ukoku, who was always about half a moment away from deciding to try to drug Koumyou and have at it...
Gentler, he adds, "...I don't think there was any part of you she didn't weaponize against you. Even... your attachment to Babysitter. She probably only allowed that because if you left her, you'd have to leave it, too. It's like... like an illusion, she completely twisted your whole existence to suit her, including how you see yourself."
He knows that, despite earlier awkwardness between him and Devero, that Devero is truly a good guy. From a world with lofty ideals, but a good man. No doubt about it. And that's what makes the sudden moment that he goes from lamenting being some fashion of hussy to curling into him and lamenting violating someone's consent a moment for him to realize he's missing significant context. Because him actually doing that seems wildly out of character.
But Koumyou responds positively to Yondu's question and he starts to move, trying not to dislodge Devero too much. Only he doesn't dislodge him, there's a torrent of squigglies keeping him close and this was not a thing he was prepared for. But apparently this is normal and he should not dive out of the bed like a paratrooper.
For this moment, for his obscene display of non-reaction to a lot of discord, he deserves a medal.
That said, he's now the one up against the wall and then he finds the arm that had been around Devero's shoulders pressed between two warm bodies. "Sounds like she was a doozy." Honestly, its moments like that he's almost happy that people usually only take a mild interest in him.
He does remember Koumyou insisting that he wanted someone dead. He figures this must be the one he mentioned. "Y'know, all this sounds like what my worst owners used to do." He's still oversensitive to it, to a point. Knowing things you consider good about you weaponized against you. Hearing that without strict obedience and guidance you're a problem for everything around you.
"I ever tell you the story about the Skrull I met when I was little?" The question is for either of them, even as he's tipping his head to rest his stubbly chin against Devero's temple.
Devero stirs a little as they all start to shift, flinching instinctively when he feels himself being scooped up by-- oh. The sutra. What else? He lets it scoot him along and tucks himself right back into place against Yondu when the tendrils dissolve.
A breath too shaky to really be a sigh passes his parted lips when he feels Koumyou's wiry solidity against his back. He's able to relax again-- nope never mind now he's thinking about his machine-self and all the times Valdana had insinuated that she'd turn him out of Techstead if he didn't do what she wanted. Koumyou's so right about that, that Devero can't argue. He just nods along miserably.
He doesn't even try to argue that Valdana wasn't his owner. He'd worn her collar, hadn't he? Sure, that was only supposed to be for scenes, but-- but Koumyou's right. He'd been wrapped all the way around her finger, inside their relationship and out.
He fists the hand Koumyou's not holding against his throat, knuckles against a leather band not currently there.
"I... I don't think so," he murmurs in response to Yondu's question. A distraction? He'll take it!
It's not entirely warm body against the back of Yondu's arm; the bamboo breastplate worn over the Sanzo's chest is cool and smooth. And unlike the sutra, it doesn't move on its own.
Koumyou stays like this for a few moments, and then decides to sit up, scooting to put his back to the wall, his hip and leg still firmly against Devero's back -- and Yondu's poor arm.
"I don't think so either," Koumyou echoes, pulling the hand he has up to Dev's shoulder so he can start massaging it between both of his own. Actual massage, seiho, trying to physically wring some of the tension out of the other human.
He can feel Koumyou move around a bit, wondering if he's positioning himself to watch over Devero but doesn't ask it out loud, since he can tell something in him just shattered out of nowhere because of that question.
"When I's younger... say about three or four so? I dunno. Real early memory an' time from back then, I didn't have a good handle on. I was a message runner for one of my owners." Enemy troups were less likely to shoot an alien kid scrambling between places. Especially one that young. And Yondu couldn't really read back then. "One day I'm bringin' somethin' back to camp, an' there's this posh mobile set up the Lord owns there.
"He's got this comfort slave he's been keepin' with him. She's a Skrull. Means she can change forms to near anything if they got a talent for it and she did. She's pretty whipped by this point, won't argue, do whatever he'll say. Doesn't want things for herself. We only ever saw her bein' quiet around 'im an' he didn't let people interact with her much. But I go in to drop off this message, and she sees me, an' I see her light up. Been forever since she's talked to a kid I think. He's not there right then, so she talks to me a little bit. Asks how long it's been since I seen another Centaurian. Asks a few things. Then turns into one. Prettiest Centaurian woman you could imagine." Not that they could, probably. "Even whistles me a tune, an' she had the sound down pat.
"Whole thing had me feelin' pretty good. Until the Lord came in. Takes one look at her an' says somethin' along the lines of 'never had a Centaurian before'. Takes the message from me and sends me away."
The moral of this story has usually been, 'don't be too kind, it'll just get you fucked,' for him. But in this case, it's something else.
"I was a kid, but I knew somethin' was wrong. Also I couldn't do nothin' about it, not that little. At that point all I was good at is bein' skinny, runnin', an' hiding' places. Hell, I couldn't do nothin' about my station for a full twenty years. So I just did as I's told. But I still remember ever'thin' good about her, even now. I don't know how she saw herself, figure it was like all of us. Where we stopped seein' ourselves as people. But I just saw somethin' downright gorgeous, inside an' out.
"Pretty sure there were people that musta looked at you like that. You keep seein' yourself as some desperate kinda thing. But the way you're lookin' at yourself? Ever'body knows better than to agree with ya. Maybe people weren't in a position to help stop it, an' we ain't in one after the fact. But the very least we do is think more of ya than what ya do yourself."
Did Yondu ever come around to thinking of himself as a person? Yeah. The lack of identity sneaks up on him frequently, but it takes a person to make the shit decisions he made with his freedom.
That was a lot of words, though, and all of them said to some point at the wall rather than looking at anyone, and his raspy voice, rough throat vibrating near Devero's face as he told the whole thing.
Just as something in him had fractured when he finally let himself admit that he'd belonged to Valdana outside of their 'play' as much as in it, some of those fragments shift again as Yondu tells his story.
Over the past few years, as Valdana's use of him had become so obviously transactional, Devero had defaulted to assuming that everyone else was in on it. How could they be anything but? How could they look at him and see anything but what Valdana told him was so self-evident about himself, the predatory animal on the verge of losing control at all times? How could they consider him anything but an animal leashed and trained, a plaything carefully shaped by Valdana's guidance, an object given over for their gratification and nothing more?
There had been associates of his Madame's who were in on it-- the real 'it', not the BDSM playacting that disguised the abuse-- folks who saw him the same way she did and used him accordingly. But as Yondu tells them about the kind woman who'd changed into a Centaurian and whistled for a child, Devero recalls other encounters in a different light. He remembers shy smiles and sweet words and gentle hands, laying with people he might even might have chosen of his own volition, people who then greeted him later with warmth and affection that-- could it have been genuine?
Could some of those partners she'd chosen for him have seen him for himself? As a person participating of his own volition, rather than-- than as Madame Valdana's comfort slave?
And here, now, where it matters more than people he may never see again-- his self-image here is so fragile, so threatened by the cognitive dissonance of knowing that people here respect and value him and knowing that he's one slip of self-control away from showing the whole train that he's an untrustworthy sex-mad animal. He's had no choice but to believe the latter for so damn long that he--
He....
He doesn't know what to say. But the way his hand in Koumyou's remains tense despite the priest's skilled fingers working it speaks for him, as does the way he all but burrows against Yondu as the other man finishes the telling of it.
"Thank you," he manages finally, voice tight. For the story? For the perspective? For saying he thinks more of Devero than Devero does of himself?
Koumyou is quiet through this, still massaging Devero's tense hand in his, looking over at Yondu as he speaks and then down at Devero.
Softly, he adds his two cents, "You're more than what she tried to make you, Devero."
And it's not just Koumyou's bias talking; Yondu also sees it. There are plenty of other people on the train who see it, too, among those who have left and those who remain.
Yeah, he did just kind of do that, didn't he? Say that Devero was more than what he thought of himself. But currently there's a room full of people like that and not a one of them would likely admit it. Such is their curse, even from such wildly differing but equally shitty backgrounds. Relatable mostly in that important others deemed them expendable.
He has Devero half on him and it's warm and comfortable, and he squirms just a bit under him to make sure his limbs are situated in the most fitting places. Yondu gives Koumyou a curious look, like he's asking if this is alright as he combs his fingers through the younger man's hair and holds him a little tighter with the arm that's around him. If the Sanzo wants to take care of him himself, he can find a way to scooch out.
Devero pulls back a little as Yondu repositions himself, but as soon as the older man settles he tucks right back in. He's so, so desperate for the comfort; the fact that it comes from someone he admires is icing on the cake.
His partner's leg bracing his back is comforting too, and Devero understands that the massage is supposed to be as well-- he should probably be grateful for any attention he's getting, just enjoy it while it's offered, before either man realizes they've got better things to do then lay around and pat an emotional vampire of a--
Stop it, he tells himself, and is a little startled by the strength of that mental admonishment.
Unaware of Yondu trying to eye-chat Koumyou, he tangles the priest's fingers with his own and tugs. "L-lay back down?" he asks, his audible voice much more tremulous than his mental one a moment ago. He sounds plaintive and exhausted and so fucking needy and damn it if he doesn't flinch a little as if he expects to be taken to task for daring to make a request.
This is Koumyou, for fuck's sake, who's known that he's more than what she let him be since the first time they met! But Devero flinches anyway, and kind of hates himself for it.
"Okay," Koumyou squeezes Dev's fingers, then takes a moment to take the sutra off with his free hand, tucking the scroll it instantly turns into into his sleeve. Then the ceremonial bamboo breastplate comes off over his head, vanishing into the ARMs band.
He returns Yondu's weird look with a raised eyebrow, then scoots back down into the pile, pressing his wiry frame against Devero's back and Yondu's poor, trapped arm.
Then, because he's Koumyou and every serious moment needs jokes--
"So... you're finally getting to sleep with me, Yondu."
He can see what Koumyou is doing there. While Yondu's never been great at burying his sadness in humor (his usual go-to was anger) he can tell what it is. Sanding down the hard edges on something heavy so it doesn't hurt as much to lift it, where as Yondu's method is more for muscling through.
He snorts softly. "A present from Dev to you, I reckon." After all, he's the one who brought him.
Oh, how he relaxes when Koumyou's body tucks in behind his. He actually releases his hold on the collar he's not wearing to seize Koumyou's hand and drag the priest's arm around himself. Koumyou holding him from one side, Yondu from the other-- he releases a shaky breath and just sort of goes boneless between them.
His chuckle, when it drifts out from between the two older men, almost sounds normal for him. "Go for it," he murmurs. Sorry Koumyou, this is what you get for dating a hussy: encouragement. "I sure wouldn't mind.
"Maybe not while I'm right here, though," he adds, his voice going a little dry. "Not unless you want me involved too." Doesn't much sound like he'd object to that, though, given how warm and content his next huff of laughter is.
"Next time put a bow on him, Dev-chan," Koumyou says sleepily. Of the three of them, he's the one that is only joking.
Anything else, well. He and Dev should probably chat about that someday. He remains oblivious regardless. Devero's interest in Koumyou was a fluke, that's all.
"One of those big ones like they put on cars in the magazines."
Excuse you, Koumyou. He was just going along with the joke. Until that second comment happened from Dev and he might have reacted a little but only a little and he's hoping that it was ignored under that people pile going on.
"Hell yeah it'd take a biggun'." He yawns and shifts so his scarred cheek is leaning against Devero's forehead and his damn fin is safely out of anyone's way. This position is relatively comfortable.
Devero, of course, is absolutely not joking, but he can tell that neither of the other two is taking it seriously. So he just chuckles again, and this time plays along; "I'll have to order one next platform, then. Make it really really clear next time."
He peeks cross-eyed up at Yondu and smiles as the other man shifts in that much closer. He hasn't felt so comfortable in ages, and it's probably not going to take more than a moment or two of silence before he drifts off to sleep between the other two...
He mouths a soft 'yeah', without voicing it, and moves his hand from Devero's head as gently as possible to pat Koumyou's. An awkward reach to do it, but he does.
Then her rests his hand on Dev's shoulder. Easy to snooze from there.
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"You're not being stupid, you're--" a glance at Yondu, because Koumyou doesn't know how much of Devero's background is okay to allude to-- "traumatized."
That should be safe. Surely, Yondu doesn't think Koumyou's with someone who isn't damaged in some terrible way.
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"You don't gotta pretend to be all hard around me. That just messes ya up even worse." He knows why he's just walked away from some conversations.
Yondu absolutely thinks Koumyou would fuck and be friends with some fucked up people. But he doesn't necessarily consider that to be a bad thing.
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The reason he'd slept around so casually in the Guard was not only in pursuit of that fun high of good sex, but just as much for the affection and cuddling before and after. That covered the physical intimacy. And he'd gotten much of the emotional intimacy he craved from his squad, his sibs-in-arms who he could rely on and trust in emotionally. Especially once he'd been accepted as a Scorpion, Scorpions were tight. While he would have liked a romantic relationship too-- he'd pursued a couple, even, though they never panned out-- his needs were met.
Then had come his discharge, and Valdana. Valdana, who'd used his joy in sex and his need to feel close to someone to reel him in, playing out just enough affection to make sure she had him good and hooked. Slowly she'd reeled him in, until he was close enough for her to use the line that bound them to lash him at her feet and start contorting him into the shape she wanted him to take. Her affection had become entirely performative, entirely transactional; the little emotional intimacy they shared evaporated.
And then she'd made sure he was isolated from his friends and coworkers.
The Devero who had boarded the train was touched-starved, affection-starved, intimacy-starved, and though he's come a long way since then, well. He still craves intimacy.
He turns his head out of the pillow so he can peer at Yondu and Koumyou beyond him with one eye. "I-- I'm--" He has to take a deep breath. Just say it. Just fucking say it, Devero. "Polyam doesn't-- cover it, I'm a-- just a fucking slut--" And his heart twists, identifying himself that way.
Back into the pillow he goes, a tremor shaking him.
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He squeezes the hand caught in both of his, and then lifts it while leaning down over Yondu to give the back of that hand a kiss.
"That just... sounds like something she used as a tool to hurt you with," Koumyou says gently, "You've told me a few times your libido is 'too much', but I don't think it is. I think it's just something she found convenient to leverage against you. Think about how key that idea is to her control of you, and you'll see it."
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In his eyes, the world is full of hands out to grab and squeeze the last of whatever's good out of you. Maybe it's a little shameful to try and sap up something sweeter and kinder, but you know it's better than being dried out from having someone wring the last of what's good in ya out over and over again. His history, though, like Koumyou's, is more heavily steeped in violence.
Of course, Yondu's reasons were to fill a void. It was only shaming in that he couldn't manage the kind of relationship he wanted, but sleeping around? He saw nothing wrong about it so long as you were smart about it. (Or even if you were stupid about it but weren't a bastard in the process).
He brushes his thumb along the curve of his ear, Devero's vision blocked briefly by blue wrist as he mouths an 'Do I need to move?' He doesn't say it out loud, just gives the cartilage a couple of passes before brushing his fingers through actual strands again.
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After so long, it's hard to consider his libido anything other than a liability. He wants to argue with Koumyou, to rebut, but he can feel that instinct coming from the wounded animal part of himself and he bites his tongue on it. Instead he listens, and what he hears is Koumyou neatly identifying from whom these convictions came in the first place and Yondu's easy assertion that there's nothing wrong with sleeping around.
He doesn't actually want to think about this right now. Its still too close and too raw, it's power over him too great. But what they're saying speaks to that younger Devero who'd shared around his intimacy so easily, and had never been able to entirely force himself to believe what Madame said later about him being a predator.
Right now, he doesn't feel like a predator, even as he curls up a little against Yondu, tucking his head in the hollow of the man's shoulder. Needy. Pathetic. Emotional vampire. He bites his lip and shakes his head minutely. "Please don't stop," he whispers, barely audible.
"She always said I was dangerous," he says, louder but still subdued. "I never-- I never wanted to violate someone's consent. I just wanted..." To feel seen? To feel needed? To feel loved, even if only for an hour or two. "...to have fun."
And his voice gets small again, if not quite whisper-small, when he adds for Yondu's edification, "I was-- in a-- b-bad relationship, back home."
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Time to re-arrange things a bit.
As the other man scoots, he'll find Devero's moving with him, several tendrils of the sutra simply sliding under the big guy and moving him over. Koumyou climbs back onto the bed as room opens up, still holding Devero's hand through-out. The extra tendrils of the sutra vanish back into thin air, as usual.
Yondu's got the hair-petting covered, so Koumyou just drapes himself against Dev's back, a solid anchor in the storm, and squeezes his hand again.
"Devero," he speaks gently, but also firmly at the same time, using the authority of his priestly training for once, "You have never struck me as someone who would violate consent, not ever. And... even I know what that kind of person is like."
He may have been untouched before Devero, but that doesn't mean he hasn't dealt with that kind of person. Like, say, Ukoku, who was always about half a moment away from deciding to try to drug Koumyou and have at it...
Gentler, he adds, "...I don't think there was any part of you she didn't weaponize against you. Even... your attachment to Babysitter. She probably only allowed that because if you left her, you'd have to leave it, too. It's like... like an illusion, she completely twisted your whole existence to suit her, including how you see yourself."
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But Koumyou responds positively to Yondu's question and he starts to move, trying not to dislodge Devero too much. Only he doesn't dislodge him, there's a torrent of squigglies keeping him close and this was not a thing he was prepared for. But apparently this is normal and he should not dive out of the bed like a paratrooper.
For this moment, for his obscene display of non-reaction to a lot of discord, he deserves a medal.
That said, he's now the one up against the wall and then he finds the arm that had been around Devero's shoulders pressed between two warm bodies. "Sounds like she was a doozy." Honestly, its moments like that he's almost happy that people usually only take a mild interest in him.
He does remember Koumyou insisting that he wanted someone dead. He figures this must be the one he mentioned. "Y'know, all this sounds like what my worst owners used to do." He's still oversensitive to it, to a point. Knowing things you consider good about you weaponized against you. Hearing that without strict obedience and guidance you're a problem for everything around you.
"I ever tell you the story about the Skrull I met when I was little?" The question is for either of them, even as he's tipping his head to rest his stubbly chin against Devero's temple.
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A breath too shaky to really be a sigh passes his parted lips when he feels Koumyou's wiry solidity against his back. He's able to relax again-- nope never mind now he's thinking about his machine-self and all the times Valdana had insinuated that she'd turn him out of Techstead if he didn't do what she wanted. Koumyou's so right about that, that Devero can't argue. He just nods along miserably.
He doesn't even try to argue that Valdana wasn't his owner. He'd worn her collar, hadn't he? Sure, that was only supposed to be for scenes, but-- but Koumyou's right. He'd been wrapped all the way around her finger, inside their relationship and out.
He fists the hand Koumyou's not holding against his throat, knuckles against a leather band not currently there.
"I... I don't think so," he murmurs in response to Yondu's question. A distraction? He'll take it!
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Koumyou stays like this for a few moments, and then decides to sit up, scooting to put his back to the wall, his hip and leg still firmly against Devero's back -- and Yondu's poor arm.
"I don't think so either," Koumyou echoes, pulling the hand he has up to Dev's shoulder so he can start massaging it between both of his own. Actual massage, seiho, trying to physically wring some of the tension out of the other human.
CW: recounting story with implied assault
"When I's younger... say about three or four so? I dunno. Real early memory an' time from back then, I didn't have a good handle on. I was a message runner for one of my owners." Enemy troups were less likely to shoot an alien kid scrambling between places. Especially one that young. And Yondu couldn't really read back then. "One day I'm bringin' somethin' back to camp, an' there's this posh mobile set up the Lord owns there.
"He's got this comfort slave he's been keepin' with him. She's a Skrull. Means she can change forms to near anything if they got a talent for it and she did. She's pretty whipped by this point, won't argue, do whatever he'll say. Doesn't want things for herself. We only ever saw her bein' quiet around 'im an' he didn't let people interact with her much. But I go in to drop off this message, and she sees me, an' I see her light up. Been forever since she's talked to a kid I think. He's not there right then, so she talks to me a little bit. Asks how long it's been since I seen another Centaurian. Asks a few things. Then turns into one. Prettiest Centaurian woman you could imagine." Not that they could, probably. "Even whistles me a tune, an' she had the sound down pat.
"Whole thing had me feelin' pretty good. Until the Lord came in. Takes one look at her an' says somethin' along the lines of 'never had a Centaurian before'. Takes the message from me and sends me away."
The moral of this story has usually been, 'don't be too kind, it'll just get you fucked,' for him. But in this case, it's something else.
"I was a kid, but I knew somethin' was wrong. Also I couldn't do nothin' about it, not that little. At that point all I was good at is bein' skinny, runnin', an' hiding' places. Hell, I couldn't do nothin' about my station for a full twenty years. So I just did as I's told. But I still remember ever'thin' good about her, even now. I don't know how she saw herself, figure it was like all of us. Where we stopped seein' ourselves as people. But I just saw somethin' downright gorgeous, inside an' out.
"Pretty sure there were people that musta looked at you like that. You keep seein' yourself as some desperate kinda thing. But the way you're lookin' at yourself? Ever'body knows better than to agree with ya. Maybe people weren't in a position to help stop it, an' we ain't in one after the fact. But the very least we do is think more of ya than what ya do yourself."
Did Yondu ever come around to thinking of himself as a person? Yeah. The lack of identity sneaks up on him frequently, but it takes a person to make the shit decisions he made with his freedom.
That was a lot of words, though, and all of them said to some point at the wall rather than looking at anyone, and his raspy voice, rough throat vibrating near Devero's face as he told the whole thing.
cw: sexual trafficking
Over the past few years, as Valdana's use of him had become so obviously transactional, Devero had defaulted to assuming that everyone else was in on it. How could they be anything but? How could they look at him and see anything but what Valdana told him was so self-evident about himself, the predatory animal on the verge of losing control at all times? How could they consider him anything but an animal leashed and trained, a plaything carefully shaped by Valdana's guidance, an object given over for their gratification and nothing more?
There had been associates of his Madame's who were in on it-- the real 'it', not the BDSM playacting that disguised the abuse-- folks who saw him the same way she did and used him accordingly. But as Yondu tells them about the kind woman who'd changed into a Centaurian and whistled for a child, Devero recalls other encounters in a different light. He remembers shy smiles and sweet words and gentle hands, laying with people he might even might have chosen of his own volition, people who then greeted him later with warmth and affection that-- could it have been genuine?
Could some of those partners she'd chosen for him have seen him for himself? As a person participating of his own volition, rather than-- than as Madame Valdana's comfort slave?
And here, now, where it matters more than people he may never see again-- his self-image here is so fragile, so threatened by the cognitive dissonance of knowing that people here respect and value him and knowing that he's one slip of self-control away from showing the whole train that he's an untrustworthy sex-mad animal. He's had no choice but to believe the latter for so damn long that he--
He....
He doesn't know what to say. But the way his hand in Koumyou's remains tense despite the priest's skilled fingers working it speaks for him, as does the way he all but burrows against Yondu as the other man finishes the telling of it.
"Thank you," he manages finally, voice tight. For the story? For the perspective? For saying he thinks more of Devero than Devero does of himself?
Yes.
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Softly, he adds his two cents, "You're more than what she tried to make you, Devero."
And it's not just Koumyou's bias talking; Yondu also sees it. There are plenty of other people on the train who see it, too, among those who have left and those who remain.
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He has Devero half on him and it's warm and comfortable, and he squirms just a bit under him to make sure his limbs are situated in the most fitting places. Yondu gives Koumyou a curious look, like he's asking if this is alright as he combs his fingers through the younger man's hair and holds him a little tighter with the arm that's around him. If the Sanzo wants to take care of him himself, he can find a way to scooch out.
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His partner's leg bracing his back is comforting too, and Devero understands that the massage is supposed to be as well-- he should probably be grateful for any attention he's getting, just enjoy it while it's offered, before either man realizes they've got better things to do then lay around and pat an emotional vampire of a--
Stop it, he tells himself, and is a little startled by the strength of that mental admonishment.
Unaware of Yondu trying to eye-chat Koumyou, he tangles the priest's fingers with his own and tugs. "L-lay back down?" he asks, his audible voice much more tremulous than his mental one a moment ago. He sounds plaintive and exhausted and so fucking needy and damn it if he doesn't flinch a little as if he expects to be taken to task for daring to make a request.
This is Koumyou, for fuck's sake, who's known that he's more than what she let him be since the first time they met! But Devero flinches anyway, and kind of hates himself for it.
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He returns Yondu's weird look with a raised eyebrow, then scoots back down into the pile, pressing his wiry frame against Devero's back and Yondu's poor, trapped arm.
Then, because he's Koumyou and every serious moment needs jokes--
"So... you're finally getting to sleep with me, Yondu."
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He snorts softly. "A present from Dev to you, I reckon." After all, he's the one who brought him.
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His chuckle, when it drifts out from between the two older men, almost sounds normal for him. "Go for it," he murmurs. Sorry Koumyou, this is what you get for dating a hussy: encouragement. "I sure wouldn't mind.
"Maybe not while I'm right here, though," he adds, his voice going a little dry. "Not unless you want me involved too." Doesn't much sound like he'd object to that, though, given how warm and content his next huff of laughter is.
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Anything else, well. He and Dev should probably chat about that someday. He remains oblivious regardless. Devero's interest in Koumyou was a fluke, that's all.
"One of those big ones like they put on cars in the magazines."
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"Hell yeah it'd take a biggun'." He yawns and shifts so his scarred cheek is leaning against Devero's forehead and his damn fin is safely out of anyone's way. This position is relatively comfortable.
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He peeks cross-eyed up at Yondu and smiles as the other man shifts in that much closer. He hasn't felt so comfortable in ages, and it's probably not going to take more than a moment or two of silence before he drifts off to sleep between the other two...
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Then her rests his hand on Dev's shoulder. Easy to snooze from there.