redshiftlogs | [openish] where do you go with your broken heart in tow?

And if Ben isn't thinking about Them... Cole's not going to mention Them and remind him.

"Will the book get... wilty?" He knows Dorian yelled a lot about being careful of the books, careful of wet and heat and cold and everything that wasn't the library shelves, kept at a controlled temperature.

"But I'd like that. This. All of it. I like being with you, it makes me happy like nothing has in a long time."

It takes Ben a moment to catch up; but of course, Cole is doing what Cole does, and responding not really to the question he'd asked aloud, but to the deeper desires behind it, to the more sprawling view he'd had of them spending time together. And of course it had all been blurred together in his mind, the coming here and the reading aloud and all of it, that Cole had imagined those things happening at the same time.

Ben laughs, softly - no hint of malice in it, just joy.

"I think it'd probably be a bad idea to bring any books in here. But then again. There's lots of books in the library that are already pretty wilty. Hard to imagine them getting much worse."

But then his breath is catching because Cole is saying he likes being with him, that it makes him happy. And that matters to Ben. That Cole isn't just saying he would come again because it would make Ben happy. But that he's getting something out of it, too. That Ben is making his life a little better, just by being in it.

Ben has no frame of reference for this feeling. For that joy so sharp it almost feels like fear, elation and nerves and bright bubbling restless fullness.

"Yeah... yeah, me too."

The words are so pale and insubstantial and insufficient, compared to what's inside him, but luckily, Cole will know.

It's all so much and he can't seem to stop smiling, and Ben has to dunk his head under the water again, pushing his hair back when he emerges once again. He can hardly believe he felt so miserable just recently, that he'd let a silly dream get him upset, when really... he doesn't think his life has ever been better than this. When has he ever felt so hopeful about the future? When has he ever trusted anyone this much?

"I think we should check out the other parts of the spa, what do you say?"

Cole hums, thinking about some of the books. Some of them are in a pretty beaten condition, steam probably won't do much to hurt them, and being read and handled is better than being left behind.

He straightens up from the water, coming to sit on the edge for a moment, hair slicked back from the water and watches Ben, because yeah, he knows. he knows the feeling and intents that come with simple words. Simple, not insufficient.

"If you want to. I want to be able to get back into the warm after. I like the hot water. Are showers hot like this too?"

"Sure! Absolutely."

Ben is only too happy to agree to come back to the hot spring after, delighted that Cole likes the hot water so much. Although apparently, Cole is under the impression, perhaps, that this is the only part of the spa with hot water? Ben is quick to explain:

"Showers can be as hot as this, or hotter, or colder - you can adjust the temperature of the water whenever you want. And I'm sure the rest of the spa is going to have hot water, too. Well, the sauna part is steam, but that's probably nice, too."

Ben's never actually been in a sauna, himself. Hence why he thought he might go try it with Cole, now.

Though:

"I think there are showers, attached to the different sections... we can go to one of those, first, if you wanted to try one...?"

It really is strange and hilarious, that Cole has never even had a hot shower before. The hot spring is fun, and all, but what would he think about that - the water raining down on him from above, being able to adjust the heat however he wanted...?

"... how can you adjust the heat? Oh... mix of cold and hot, like the mixing of fresh and salt, I think I understand a bit." Ben's knowledge, interposed on his own understanding.

Cole rubs his face, hands coming away a little grimy. "I want to try all of it, but I don't know what all of it is, so you should choose the order." He nods firmly. Decision made.

Ben takes note of the way Cole's hand comes away from his face grimy; it hasn't escaped his notice that Cole is in general a fairly grimy person. He'd never questioned it much because he'd never seen Cole any other way. It's fairly important to Ben, after all, that he not be like those people Cole has mentioned having in his life, who wanted to change him. Ben really does like Cole just how he is. If that means a little uncleanliness, well, it wasn't harming anyone, and Cole himself didn't seem to mind.

Now, though, that he'd heard Cole's description of what washing had been like (at least for the human Cole) - cold and painful and probably a bit humiliating as well - and he also has heard how much Cole likes hot water, he thinks that maybe it's just a case where Cole hasn't really ever had the opportunity to like getting clean.

So, when Cole puts it into Ben's hands to decide first, it's easy enough, making the call. Shower first, then the Turkish bath (and who even knows what that's gonna be like), then the sauna, then back here if that's still what Cole wants.

Ben gets out of the water, grabs one of those fluffy towels and pats himself down just enough that he won't be dripping before he wraps it around his waist. He knows, logically, the chances anyone else will appear in the spa tonight are next to nothing, that Cole would almost certainly warn him if someone was coming, but even so... he can't really bring himself to walk around naked. As soon as Cole is out, as well, Ben tosses the other towel to him, with a small grin.

Once Cole seems ready, Ben leads the way back towards the area adjacent to the hot springs for showering off. He supposes they were meant to go there, first? He's not really sure, whatever, they're playing fast and loose with all the rules here, tonight. As they're going, he wonders how to ask what he wants to ask.

"People in Thedas... how do they typically take care of their hair?"

I.e. is Ben going to have to explain shampoo? He has a feeling he might need to do that.

Cole didn't bathe because most of his experiences were deeply traumatising and unpleasant. Human Cole had little in the way of comforts and no luxuries and spirit Cole had had no better time of it. The decontamination showers were his most recent experience.

He follows Ben, catching the towel and watching what Ben did to learn how to use it. Towels were another luxury that weren't available to Cole in any stage of life.

"I don't know," Cole admits. He doesn't wrap the towel around him, he more holds it in front of himself and trails along, wiping his arms after a moment. "Dorian had lots of bottles with things that had herbal smells. Varric had bars of soap and light, bubbly stones."

Ben's going to need to explain shampoo.

It's interesting to Ben - there was a time when the way Cole was watching him would've made him uncomfortable. Being watched, as all those hidden cameras had so vividly reminded him, is kind of a Thing, for him. But he doesn't mind it, now. Not in this context, not when it's Cole. Because Ben knows that he's just observing, picking up cues what to do, himself. He's not evaluating. Looking for weaknesses or flaws.

"Bubbly stones? Huh."

Who knows what that might be? Allison might know. Probably the hit trend in Hollywood, honestly. But that's a tangent for another time.

Ben takes his time, once they reach the shower area, looking over the options for shampoo and other things. A hint of awkwardness has crept into the back of his mind, as he's staring at the shelf of varied hair care products. Should he... offer to wash Cole's hair for him? To demonstrate how by washing his own, first? Or take a shower in one of those communal ones next to him, showing him as he goes?

It's less that any of the options sound bad at all, or even that he thinks Cole will object to any of them. But somewhere in his mind, it's occurring to him that all of this might sound... weird, if anyone heard about it. Not quite entirely normal, in the way that the two of them just going into the hot spring together was. He doesn't know why it's different, when it's a shower, but... it is, somehow.

The moment of hesitation is brief, however. As soon as Ben identifies that feeling of shy unease and self-consciousness, he shoves it aside. How stupid is all that? Isn't he past that, that wanting to be normal? He's never been normal and he never will be, and Cole deserves to have somebody show him it doesn't have to be awful, getting clean.

He makes his selections almost at random, grabbing down a loofah, some body wash in a little bottle, similarly single-use size containers of shampoo and conditioner, hands them all to Cole in a heap before grabbing the same for himself. His heart is still beating so quickly, his face hot. He knows, Cole will have picked up on at least some of the emotional undercurrent of that, but he pushes on through.

"I can show you what to do. Showers are- showers are really good, and I think you're going to like them a lot."

"Mm. Pew-meece?" Recalling the word from memory takes effort, especially with no one there to pull it from.

And his watching is benign. He just wants to do things right, he's learning from what Ben does, by observation.

"We don't have to, if you feel strange about it," Cole offers. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. It should be nice, feel comfortable." He lingers back a little bit, rocking on his feet.

"Oh! Pumice! Yeah, that's definitely a thing."

Has Ben got any idea exactly what it's for? No. But he definitely knows it's some kind of bathing rock people use. His general rule is that if Klaus didn't talk about it or shoplift it regularly, he's probably not all that familiar with it. Maybe not exactly the best cleanliness mentor, here.

But Cole's reassurance that he doesn't need to do this only strengthens Ben's resolve. He shakes his head, squaring his shoulders. It's much easier, letting go of that vague, imagined disapproval or curiosity from nameless other people, when confronted with Cole's immediate and real hesitation right in front of him.

"No, I want to. I was just-" Ben has got no words for that unexpected knot of self-consciousness he'd tripped over, though. For whatever vague stirrings in the back of his mind made him think there might be some sort of imaginary line they were close to crossing. So he shakes his head, "Doesn't matter. I want to."

He heads towards those communal showers, confident that any of his lingering unease will go away once he's actually doing the thing, not just thinking about it - the same way his temporary unease with the hot spring had gone away. And indeed, as soon as the two of them are standing in front of the taps, and Ben's explaining, the self-consciousness begins to subside beneath eagerness to help.

"So, you've got this tap for hot and this one for cold, you just turn them on and adjust them around until it's the temperature you like."

And he shows Cole, taking off his towel and hanging it on the nearby wall hook, standing out of the way of the spray and testing it with his hand until it's the right amount of hot without being boiling. Then he steps under the spray, spluttering a little in surprise at the water pressure and then laughing at himself, at this whole ridiculous situation. But it's a good kind of laughter.

It's easier, after that, with the background din of the spray, to walk Cole through it, the basic steps of lathering up the loofah with the soap and getting himself clean. Still strange, to think that such a basic comfort had been denied to Cole all those years. Ben takes his time with it, hoping to show by example it doesn't have to be something hard and quick and unpleasant. He doesn't look at Cole, though, except a lightning-quick glance now and then to make sure he was doing alright. Even if Cole wouldn't mind, it just feels... intrusive. Like he would be taking advantage of something.

"This stuff actually smells great, I'm totally stealing a couple of bottles of this when we go."

Edited 2019-11-29 08:22 (UTC)

"You think that other people might think strangely of it if they knew. but they won't. I can keep secrets, if this is a secret. And I don't really see a reason to share it, anyway. This is our time, not theirs."

Cole's agreeing; what others think doesn't matter. What Ben's comfortable with is what matters.

Again, Cole copies. He hangs up his towel, plays with the water temperature and then steps under it and back out, shaking his head and sneezing. "It's not like rain at all! It's... forceful. With intent." His hand comes up to skin over the showerhead and then looks back at Ben, watching way he lathers up and then copies him again.

There's another sneeze when he promptly brings it to his face to sniff; bubbles go everywhere at the sneeze and then Cole laughs, foam covering his hands and nose.

He wonders - is this a secret? Should it be? In Ben's life up until now, secrets were never about good things that made him happy. Secrets were awful lumps of unspoken words that sat in his throat, growing and growing until they blocked anything at all from coming out. He is sure he must have, at some point, but Ben can't remember the last time he had a good secret. A delicious one.

It would be different, if Cole hadn't offered so freely. Ben knows how honest Cole often is - it's one of the things he really appreciates and is drawn to about him. So asking him unprompted to go against that, just so Ben could avoid some awkwardness? He wouldn't be able to do it. But Cole had volunteered. And his pale eyes, when Ben meets them, look sincere, unbothered.

Tentatively, Ben nods. If Cole is sure. If it won't hurt him, to keep this private, just their time, not for anyone else...

"I think they've got showers like that." Ben is talking a bit louder to be heard over the water, and he can feel the tension going out of him at that familiar pressure, the comfortable routine of standing under the spray, "Where it just drips down more like rain. I think it's supposed to be really fancy?"

To Ben, it just sounds unpleasant and at best, tedious. If he wanted to be rained on he would just go out in the rain...

When Cole sneezes that second time, Ben has to look over, then. As soon as he sees Cole with foam all over his nose and the bottom of his face and his hands, he laughs, the kind of laughter you can feel in your stomach, doubling over, one hand set against the wall to support himself. It's just... so cute. There's no other word for it.

"Oh my god, that... was priceless...!"

It takes him a few moments to recover, still bursting into random little giggles now and then. There went the last of his nerves and reservation - how easily, Cole helps him to shed all that. Ben is careful to show Cole how to scrub properly - not to the point where it hurts, but enough to get the not inconsiderable amount of grime off him, even his back and under his fingernails.

Once Cole is ready, Ben says:

"Right so shampoo is like... special soap for your hair, you're going to put it in your hands and rub it in, and it'll later up. But try not to get it in your eyes, or it'll sting... probably."

It's hard to anticipate the ways in which Cole's body will deviate from a human's, because he's a spirit. He had sneezed, because of the bodywash - but it's not like he eats or sleeps or needs to breathe, so it's all sort of up in the air. But just in case it would sting, Ben wants to avoid that eventuality.

And, as before, he goes ahead and demonstrates first, shampooing his hair thoroughly before glancing over to check Cole's doing the same.

Maybe it's silly, to be feeling so happy over all this. Maybe people would laugh or raise their eyebrows if they knew. But Ben is happy, so... fuck it.

Cole is compulsively honest. This is not to say he doesn't keep secrets. He does. he keeps them close to his chest, next to his heart where they can't be spilled and shared. He understands there are things that other people don't need to know, because it will hurt, because it will harm.

This isn't that sort of secret. This is a secret that blooms best nursed between them, sheltered from cutting opinion and sharp words.

Cole laughs when Ben does and he works at scrubbing himself over, not too hard, to the skin pinks a little, but not reddens. And the ingrained grime of weeks living in Anchor lifts out eventually and the dark lines under Cole's nail lighten, but there's a degree of it that's staining and some that's just permanent bruising, painless but left from the memory of Cole's last days in that cell.

And then comes hair washing.

The motions aren't natural to Cole, but he works at it. He uses a bit too much shampoo and had foam and bubbles everywhere and the amount of dirt coming out take two or three go throughs with shampoo but they get there. Eventually, Cole is rinsing himself off and he's clean in a way that even decontamination can't manage. That might make you safe, but getting clean is something else entirely.

Ben is patient throughout, showing Cole that there is no rush, that he can keep adding shampoo and rinsing his hair until it's no longer needed. A little ripple of guilt goes through Ben that he hadn't done this sooner, underneath the happiness. There is so much dirt in Cole's hair and even if Cole had never seemed bothered by it, he must have been, mustn't he? He just didn't know that it could be any better. Why hadn't Ben thought to offer this, sooner? What other oversights is he making - ways he could be helping Cole, making his life more comfortable, happier, better...?

He isn't even fully conscious of these thoughts as, finally, he shuts off the shower, and pulls the conditioner out next. Ben shows Cole - careful to be clear on the amount, this time - how to spread a little bit of conditioner into his hair. He'd grabbed the kind that could be left in without rinsing, and hands the bottle to Cole when he's gotten a bit for himself.

As Ben is mixing in the conditioner to is own hair he is thinking about how much longer it is. It's one of those subtler things about being alive that he'd forgotten about, over all those years. Day by day, the tiny changes, showing that he was living, growing. He should maybe get it cut. He's kind of liking having a tiny bit more length on it, though.

"Does your hair grow?"

There's no judgment behind the question. If yes, it's something they have in common. If no, it's another thing that makes Cole so uniquely Cole. Ben is merely curious.

Cole feels the thoughts, but he lets them pass unremarked upon. He doesn't want to make Ben focus on the guilt, not when it's not worth being guilty over. It simply didn't matter enough to Cole to dig into the guilt.

"Do I wash this out like the shampoo? Only..." He's getting hints of something else, lingering feeling, not more water. "And... no. I don't think so. It's never changed before. Should it?"

"No, this specific one you leave in. That's why you only need to use a little bit. To make your hair feel nice once it's dry."

Ben is going to have to ask Allison for other recommendations, things he might share with Cole (though he won't frame them in that way to her). She probably knows what pumice is for, after all. If anybody would, she would.

Cole's answer about his hair makes it sound as if it's a topic he's never really considered. Which means no one has asked before, most likely. Which Ben knows isn't necessarily a bad thing. People in Thedas probably just grasp the situation better than him naturally, because of their familiarity with spirits. Still... there are so many things about himself that Cole doesn't seem to have ever thought of one way or another, before. Ben feels a little spark of curiosity at that.

"I wouldn't say should. It would grow if you were a human, but you're not, and I don't know much about spirits, except the stuff you've told me, so I just wasn't sure one way or another."

He gives a rolling shrug, as he pulls his towel from that hook and starts to dry himself. He isn't too thorough about it, since he still wants to check out the other areas. But at the forefront of his mind now is this question of what Cole does or doesn't know about himself. The various divergences between him and a mortal, a human.

"Mine never changed, when I was a ghost. So... I kind of like noticing it changing, now."

Which isn't to say there's anything wrong with Cole's not changing. It's just... Cole is one of the few people Ben can really talk to about this kind of thing. Everyone else gets so sad and weird when he talks about the time he spent being dead, and Ben understands why. In a way it's really touching. But it does make it hard to talk about it, even to bring up something as small and harmless as this.

He reaches up and musses his newly-conditioned hair, leaving it in a complete catastrophe on top of his head, grinning broadly. After all those years of his hair being fixed, intangible, not something he could feel with his hands or muss up... it is a good feeling.

Cole hums, thinking about it. He's never really considered his hair. Dorian once asked him why he bled, if it was because he thought he should. In return, Cole had asked Dorian if that was why he bled when he was cut. Dorian was all loud magic and peacock aura, drowning out much of what was around him with his power and aches.

"Most spirits don't come into the real world. And none of them look like humans when they do. I suppose because we don't change how you see us unless our self changes, my hair doesn't change."

He looks at Ben, smiling at the wet spikes going everywhere.

"I guess that makes sense."

It matches with other things that Cole has said, too, about there being no difference for him between his inside and his outside. Apparently that not only means he isn't embarrassed by nudity, but that internal changes or expectations would be reflected on his body. It's sort of an odd idea to get his head around, but Ben's always lived at some distance from his own body. Skeptical of it, untrusting of it, half-convinced that its whims and needs were in some way tied with the evil that Reginald had always taught him dwelled on the other side of the portal.

"Well, you don't have to worry about changing or not changing for me."

The way Cole had asked Should it had reminded Ben of a past conversation, where Cole had said that no one had ever told him before they liked him just the way he is, without wanting to shape him in some way, change him, make him more human, or more spirit, or less... himself. Ben had said it, then, but wants to reinforce it, now.

"I like you, however."

He leaves his hair in that rumpled mess, nodding his head in the direction of the door and asking:

"Sauna, next?"

Ben's not really sure if he will like a room that's just full of steam, but the idea of trying it out with Cole is extremely pleasant.

Ben has actually seen it, even if he's unaware of it. Now, Cole is flushed and pink, less gaunt and more alive than he often seemed when they first met. He doesn't have that cold, translucent look to his skin, shadowed and hollow and bony.

Cole beams at the words, awkwardly lurching toward Ben and hugging him, totally unashamed of the fact they're both naked and wet when he does so.

Because this means so much more to him than anything else has. Ben doesn't want him to change at all.

Whatever change had happened in Cole had been too gradual to catch Ben's eye - not to mention the fact that it happened alongside the gradual process of Ben getting to know him better, to trust him, to like him, to look forward to seeing him. His feelings towards Cole had developed and changed, and so had the way he sees Cole - it just doesn't occur to him that all of it might not have entirely been in his own mind and perception.

That smile of Cole's is just so radiant. The sudden movement towards him and the impulsive hug are a surprise, and Ben's not quite as entirely nonchalant as Cole about the whole thing. It's all such a tangle in him - surprise, self-consciousness, guilt, happiness, relief, gratitude, friendship, affection - but there is far more positive than negative, and after the first few moments, his shock and reflexive feeling that this is something he ought to feel guilty about fade, leaving only the warm glow of joy that he could make Cole this happy.

Some part of Ben berates him that he shouldn't congratulate himself too much, that all he's offering Cole is basic decency and friendship. Just because no one has given it to him before...

But that little voice is very little, and Cole is smiling so wide, and Ben can really see the happiness in his eyes without the hair there to block it. It's such a sharp, crystallized thing inside him right then, how he feels about Cole. How much pleasure it gives him making him happy. How nothing in the world seems to ever feel better than this.

If things were a little different, ~~if he weren't such an idiot~~, Ben might put a name to those feelings, contextualize them in a way that would cast all of this, the whole night, in a very different light. But it doesn't even occur to him, consciously, to wonder if maybe all these incredibly intense feelings are a bit more intense than just friendship. Ben is too happy to analyze it, and he's long since made the assumption that some things - crushes and romance and attraction and all of that - just aren't going to be a part of his existence. The reasons for that are as many as they are interwoven and unspoken and complicated.

So it doesn't click into place for him. Not yet, anyway.

Edited 2019-12-05 02:23 (UTC)

And Cole, who knows what people feel and how they feel it and what it means... Cole doesn't know this feeling. He's not felt it, as Cole, as Compassion, not like this, it's complex and messy and involves things that he doesn't know, that are outside of what all of him has.

Instead, Cole tucks his head down and into the crook of Ben's neck, as though he wasn't taller than Ben, and cuddles closer, wanting to soak in the warm inside and outside. For both of them.

Ben's going to initiate ending the cuddle. Cole won't. Can't.

For a few moments, Ben isn't really thinking or worrying about anything at all. He's merely stunned to be the recipient of such an obvious display of trust and affection. And it means so much more, coming from Cole, who has been through so much, who has every reason to be wary of people. But Cole is choosing to be close to him despite all that, and despite the fact that he can really see Ben for who he is. With everyone else, there is always that fear - that he has fooled them in some way into thinking he is deserving or whole or normal or good. But there is no deceiving Cole. From the very first time they'd met, he'd seen into the darkest corners of Ben. And he hadn't run away.

And he isn't running away, now. In fact he's doing quite the opposite, pressing in close, without self-consciousness or shame or any fear of Ben. None at all.

When Ben was first getting to know Cole, trying to wrap his head around the idea of a spirit that had become a young man, he'd wondered how real Cole's body was. Those questions had only deepened when he found out that Cole didn't need to eat or sleep. Ben knows that Cole isn't human. He doesn't mind. He's always wondered if he counts as entirely human, himself. But right now, as far as Ben can feel, there's not that much difference at all between their bodies. Ben can feel Cole's face tucked against his neck, and without really thinking about it, he lifts a hand to brush back Cole's wet hair. It's so pleasant, being close like this. Cole is still so warm from the shower...

Then, without much warning, all that relaxed happiness shifts inside Ben. There's a sudden twist of realization and alarm in his gut, as he realizes that his stupid human body with its stupid human hormones is getting a little too comfortable with having Cole pressed so close to him like this. He takes a step back at once, putting distance between them, exhaling a suddenly shaky breath. Pulling away like this is a reflex, like touching a hot stove - the moment he notices that response in himself, he withdraws. Because Cole had been hugging him like that, trusting him, and Ben is so happy that Cole trusts him. He won't do anything to take advantage or betray that or taint it.

Because this is a reflex that had been ingrained in him long before he ever met Cole or came to this place. Ben is long accustomed to thinking of his body as something untrustworthy and dangerous, to be kept in check. And as much progress as he's made, since coming here - a lot of it thanks to Cole - this is an area where he has made none, yet. Where he hasn't even thought to try.

"Sorry."

Ben can't even use his usual trick of trying to project how he is feeling, when the words won't come, because it's so mixed-up in his head and he doesn't know where to begin. A few things he is certain of, though, and he latches onto those. How happy it made him to be embraced like that. How glad he is to be Cole's friend. How much he meant what he said, that had prompted that burst of affection.

He reaches for the towel hanging from the wall and wraps it firmly around his hips, twists it into place a little more harshly than he needs to. It pinches, but his body is the enemy and deserves it. Ben lets out another slow breath, does his best to shove all that mess he'd unearthed way far back down.

"Okay. Sauna."

There are things Cole doesn't understand and things he can't pick up clearly.

What he's getting right now is the clear sense that Ben is sorry, though he doesn't understand what for, not really, and that he hates his own body (he already knew that) and he's angry at it for being the enemy (it isn't, but they're working on that). he doesn't think it's anything to do with him and is entirely to do with Ben and Reginald and the toxic relationship that was fostered between the pair of them and with Them.

He's a little disappointed that the hug has ended, and the hair brushing, that was nice, but Ben needs space because he's starting to feel like he's trapped in his body like a cell, hostile and confusing.

"Shh." Cole lays a hand on Ben's side briefly, then gives a very gentle poke at his stomach. "You don't need to be angry. Bodies are bodies. And They're very relaxed right now."

He gets his own towel and copies Ben again

Ben opens his mouth to protest that he's not angry... but of course, Cole's right. He is angry at himself, and confused, and uneasy. Yes, bodies are just bodies. But he hasn't reconsidered his relationship to his, extensively, and the thought of doing so is honestly a bit terrifying. So he reacts in the way that's become automatic, clamming up, slamming the doors shut on any thoughts that are too radical or dangerous, shoving it all as deep beneath the surface as he can and desperately searching for a distraction.

It won't stay buried forever. He's run aground against something big, with this. Some part of Ben knows he's not going to be able to stop himself from thinking about this again in the future. But for now, what he wants, what he needs, is to just - move to the side of it. Put distance in his mind, the way he'd put distance in between their bodies.

There is some relief, at least, in knowing that They are unbothered, and aren't riled up in any other way.

Ben resolutely holds his head high and tries to focus on lots of neutral, sauna-related thoughts. It doesn't work, for the most part, but at least that immediate squirming feeing of guilt eases more and more, as time passes. The two of them make their way to the sauna, and there is a little set of rules and procedures posted helpfully by the door. Ben pauses to read it, then explains:

"So we're... supposed to dump water on those hot coals, and the room gets steamy and we just sit around in it, I guess."

It sounds not really as fun as splashing around in a hot spring, but Ben tries it nonetheless, getting a scoop of water with the dipper and ladling it onto the hot stones, laughing softly at the sound they make. Then, he finds a spot for himself on one of the benches, looking over at Cole, wanting him to sit beside him. When he does sit, Ben lets his head fall to the side onto Cole's shoulder.

The sauna... well, Cole doesn't get it. He hasn't be anywhere so hot and humid, but he has memories from others of rainforests and sticky, damp air that smothered the breathing.

He didn't get the appeal.

He sits next to Ben, smiling faintly at the head on his shoulder but he soon starts running his fingertips over the bench, seeking out information and sensation. "Seeping, sinking, sweltering, seeking stiffness and swelling and soothing. Is that why people like this?"

Cole is getting a little damp from the water in the air but he doesn't sweat. Doesn't feel heat like a living creature would.

[openish] where do you go with your broken heart in tow?

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