[The words weren't important -- the absurd cutesiness of an introduction when so much of the complexity in this issue lay in how they already knew each other fell mostly on deaf freaky weird lizard-ears.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. A few words were important. The way Bulba had thanked him for actually coming, for example, spoke just as loudly to Char as the way he moved protectively between Vinnie and Char. He wasn't sure that there was a single gesture that either of them could have made that would make a point quite as profoundly as the way Vinnie lowered his head.
From the very start, Char had been convinced of one thing: Bulba was putting his faith in him, and that was unspeakably important. He knew perfectly well how dangerous he was. He was sure that their friendship hadn't just been a secret because it was some kind of Saurs Only Club -- it was a secret because of what he might do if he knew. Three years might have been more than enough time to allow a bruise to fade, but Char never allowed himself to forget that he was the one who'd left it.
It would be a lie to say that rivalry had ever stopped mattering to him, though. Even now, his fingers were itching to curl themselves into fists, utterly unsatisfied that this show of submissiveness was for Bulba, not for anything Char had done to earn it. It suddenly felt like an alarming amount of their rivalry had been the same, coloured more by Vinnie's feelings toward Bulba than anything else, and the thought brought anger with it. Vinnie couldn't be blamed for feeling like he was on the verge of a fight: Char was protective of his little brother to begin with, but it took an extra bit of effort to swallow the urge to haul Vinnie's head back upright by both his ears. The lonely-natured part of him tended to hate change, especially when it meant letting go.
But that's how it had to be, wasn't it? The fact that Char was Char and Vinnie was Vinnie absolutely could not be allowed to matter here. He would not harm a single hair on Bulba's boyfriend's head, full stop. No matter how much their rivalry meant, no matter how stubbornly he had poked and prodded and breathed on its embers over the years, nothing took greater priority than making sure that for once, Bulba's trust in him had not been ill-placed. If this was what made his little brother happy, then that was what his little brother would have.
He put his hands in his pockets, so they wouldn't cross or tense into fists or do anything else uninviting. Char couldn't look either one in the eye, so he looked off to the side, his mouth offering a strange, quivering little quirk that... might have been a smile? It was a faint, halfhearted affair that lent more support to the idea that Char had forgotten what a real smile was than to the idea that he was delighted to welcome Vinnie into the fold, but it was there nonetheless.]
If you like him, that's all I need.
[The words felt stiff and artificial. The idea of Vinnie fooling around with Char's baby brother did more to hinder than to help, but Char had not liked Vinnie before this. He wanted desperately to not be the problem. He would have tossed anything away in a heartbeat if Bulba's happiness was hanging in the balance. That faith that Bulba offered him never should have had so much nervousness behind it, and it was Char's fault entirely that it did. The fact that it was still offered so wholeheartedly in spite of that, however, just made him want all the more to be able to lift away all that uncertainty and fear.
But he couldn't welcome Vinnie in and mean it sincerely. He wanted to. He absolutely did not have the right to make this hard. The attempt he did give was a little hollow-feeling, but nobody had been lit on fire, right? At the very least, he was trying.]
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Well, that wasn't entirely true. A few words were important. The way Bulba had thanked him for actually coming, for example, spoke just as loudly to Char as the way he moved protectively between Vinnie and Char. He wasn't sure that there was a single gesture that either of them could have made that would make a point quite as profoundly as the way Vinnie lowered his head.
From the very start, Char had been convinced of one thing: Bulba was putting his faith in him, and that was unspeakably important. He knew perfectly well how dangerous he was. He was sure that their friendship hadn't just been a secret because it was some kind of Saurs Only Club -- it was a secret because of what he might do if he knew. Three years might have been more than enough time to allow a bruise to fade, but Char never allowed himself to forget that he was the one who'd left it.
It would be a lie to say that rivalry had ever stopped mattering to him, though. Even now, his fingers were itching to curl themselves into fists, utterly unsatisfied that this show of submissiveness was for Bulba, not for anything Char had done to earn it. It suddenly felt like an alarming amount of their rivalry had been the same, coloured more by Vinnie's feelings toward Bulba than anything else, and the thought brought anger with it. Vinnie couldn't be blamed for feeling like he was on the verge of a fight: Char was protective of his little brother to begin with, but it took an extra bit of effort to swallow the urge to haul Vinnie's head back upright by both his ears. The lonely-natured part of him tended to hate change, especially when it meant letting go.
But that's how it had to be, wasn't it? The fact that Char was Char and Vinnie was Vinnie absolutely could not be allowed to matter here. He would not harm a single hair on Bulba's boyfriend's head, full stop. No matter how much their rivalry meant, no matter how stubbornly he had poked and prodded and breathed on its embers over the years, nothing took greater priority than making sure that for once, Bulba's trust in him had not been ill-placed. If this was what made his little brother happy, then that was what his little brother would have.
He put his hands in his pockets, so they wouldn't cross or tense into fists or do anything else uninviting. Char couldn't look either one in the eye, so he looked off to the side, his mouth offering a strange, quivering little quirk that... might have been a smile? It was a faint, halfhearted affair that lent more support to the idea that Char had forgotten what a real smile was than to the idea that he was delighted to welcome Vinnie into the fold, but it was there nonetheless.]
If you like him, that's all I need.
[The words felt stiff and artificial. The idea of Vinnie fooling around with Char's baby brother did more to hinder than to help, but Char had not liked Vinnie before this. He wanted desperately to not be the problem. He would have tossed anything away in a heartbeat if Bulba's happiness was hanging in the balance. That faith that Bulba offered him never should have had so much nervousness behind it, and it was Char's fault entirely that it did. The fact that it was still offered so wholeheartedly in spite of that, however, just made him want all the more to be able to lift away all that uncertainty and fear.
But he couldn't welcome Vinnie in and mean it sincerely. He wanted to. He absolutely did not have the right to make this hard. The attempt he did give was a little hollow-feeling, but nobody had been lit on fire, right? At the very least, he was trying.]