Just like that, it all made sense. Something was 'wrong' with Aoba. Why else would he be so casual and even...even intimate with Declan? How long had he been having a problem? Was the discussion of friendship only a result of this shift in personalty? Pale eyes shifted away slowly, one of Declan's hands sliding away from Aoba's waist to reach up and clasp the hand scraping at his nape, gently pulling it away.
"Please stop," he sighed softly, looking back to the other man, expression hurt, though he was doing a good job of veiling it. Not too hard when the greater emotion was genuine concern.
"I don't...I don't mind, but it isn't right. If you're not well, or just...not yourself, completely, then this isn't appropriate. I don't want that. Taking advantage of people...that isn't good," he almost scolded, though he was saying it as much to himself as to Aoba. To his mind, what Ren was saying was akin to the time Mac got raging drunk somehow, and proceeded to spill all of his woes to a very distressed and helpless Declan who had to thoroughly pummel a man and firmly redirect a woman, both of whom tried to take advantage of the sobbing Guardian throwing himself at anyone willing to lend an ear. Maybe not the same, but the best similar situation he could equate it too in his limited life experience.
"I don't want to force him to do something, Ren. It's not hurting him or anyone else, is it? Are you?" he asked, looking up apologetically, not meaning to talk about Aoba as though he weren't there. It was his body, after all.
"Should you rest? Do you want me to get your medicine?" Best to try a gentler approach for the moment. He was willing to talk, at least.
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Just like that, it all made sense. Something was 'wrong' with Aoba. Why else would he be so casual and even...even intimate with Declan? How long had he been having a problem? Was the discussion of friendship only a result of this shift in personalty? Pale eyes shifted away slowly, one of Declan's hands sliding away from Aoba's waist to reach up and clasp the hand scraping at his nape, gently pulling it away.
"Please stop," he sighed softly, looking back to the other man, expression hurt, though he was doing a good job of veiling it. Not too hard when the greater emotion was genuine concern.
"I don't...I don't mind, but it isn't right. If you're not well, or just...not yourself, completely, then this isn't appropriate. I don't want that. Taking advantage of people...that isn't good," he almost scolded, though he was saying it as much to himself as to Aoba. To his mind, what Ren was saying was akin to the time Mac got raging drunk somehow, and proceeded to spill all of his woes to a very distressed and helpless Declan who had to thoroughly pummel a man and firmly redirect a woman, both of whom tried to take advantage of the sobbing Guardian throwing himself at anyone willing to lend an ear. Maybe not the same, but the best similar situation he could equate it too in his limited life experience.
"I don't want to force him to do something, Ren. It's not hurting him or anyone else, is it? Are you?" he asked, looking up apologetically, not meaning to talk about Aoba as though he weren't there. It was his body, after all.
"Should you rest? Do you want me to get your medicine?" Best to try a gentler approach for the moment. He was willing to talk, at least.