mr_gaeta | [Room 372]

[Room 372]

[Shortly after this.]

Soup seems like a good idea tonight. It's warm, and comforting, and doesn't need a hell of a lot of work to turn out well.

Gaeta dumps all the ingredients into the biggest pot he owns, dropping it on the stove's back burner to let it simmer for a couple hours. Gogo hasn't strayed far from his side since they left the bar; when Gaeta gives up and opts to sit on the kitchen floor, rather than take a proper seat at the table, the dodo scoots closer with all seeming intention to climb into his lap.

"No," he murmurs, pushing him back a little. "Stay there."

Gogo cocks his head, as if considering the request, then thumps down next to him and sets his beak on Gaeta's shoulder. Gaeta has to crane his chin back to make room for Gogo's head; with a defeated sigh, he draws an arm around the bird to ground himself a little further.

He can breathe. The anger hasn't ebbed back as far as he thought -- a meal that doesn't require much work means he can spend more time replaying the conversation in his head -- but the tension isn't as bad. Even if his palm hurts like all frak, he didn't do anything worse than sling a few insults Javert's way.

Gaeta still wouldn't mind staying on the floor a little while longer.

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There's something on the Admiral's mind. He's not sure what it is; he's not sure if anyone is, except maybe Tigh or Roslin, and there's no way he's asking them.

(Even though he does still have to try to find a way to talk to the President, daunting as that may be.)

It's more of a relief than he likes to admit to leave Galactica behind for a few hours. Hoshi's whistling a little, under his breath, as he unlocks the door to Felix's quarters at the bar and steps inside.

"I'm back," he calls, closing the door behind him. "Anyone here?"

Gaeta lifts his head, brightening unconsciously. "Hey," he calls. "We're in the kitchen."

Gogo's peering in the direction of the door, but right now, Nestmate takes priority over Friend of Nestmate. (Plus, Nestmate still hasn't given him those marshmallows he promised earlier.)

"So I see," he replies, walking toward the kitchen with every expectation of finding Felix standing in front of the stove in the little efficiency --

-- only to stop where he is, blinking in surprise at the sight of the other man sitting on the floor.

"Practicing nesting, are we?"

His smile goes a bit more wry. "Seemed like the thing to do."

Gaeta holds out a hand.

"Want to join us?"

"Sure."

He takes Felix's hand, lacing his fingers with the other man's, and lowers himself to the floor.

"Gogo have a rough day, or something?" he asks, searching Felix's face.

"...Not him, so much," hedges Gaeta. "And it wasn't that bad."

Gods know he's had a lot worse; they both have. Next to what he and Louis have endured, a drunk patron acting like an asshole ranks pretty low.

Still.

"Mm."

He reaches out with his free hand to ruffle Gogo's feathers, all the same.

"Want to tell me about it?"

Gogo makes a contented, throaty noise as he pushes his head against Louis' palm.

"Just this guy getting in my face for no reason." Gaeta sighs. "It...threw me a little."

"So I gather." Gently said, but after all, it's not every day that he comes back to Milliways to find Felix slumped on the floor.

"Must have been a real jerk to have gotten under your skin like this."

He huffs a laugh. "To say the least."

Shifting just enough to get Gogo to change position, he scoots close enough to lean his head on Louis' shoulder.

"First time I met him a while back, he insinuated some things like...everything bad that happens to you happens because you sinned, somehow. He's very religious," he adds dryly. "So I asked him what kind of sin would qualify you to have your whole civilization destroyed. So tonight, that got warped into him thinking I destroyed the Colonies."

Beat.

"And he's weirdly fixated on our relationship for some reason."

He puts his arm around Felix and draws him a little closer.

"I can't say that I've even heard of any of the Gemenese thinking that kind of thing, and you know how devout some of them can be. This guy sounds a little dense to me."

Hoshi turns his head and kisses Felix's hair.

"Fixated on our relationship? Maybe he's lonely," he muses. "Or envious, and trying to get your attention the wrong way, kind of like a kid pulling someone's hair when he's got a crush?"

Gaeta chokes in surprise, burying his face against Louis to stifle whatever strangled noise wants to come out.

"Um," he manages after a second, muffled. "No, I'm, ah...I'm pretty sure it's not that, sweetheart."

Like. At all.

"No?"

He pulls back just enough to peer down at Felix.

Still muffled by Louis' shoulder: "Not even close."

It's less like hair pulling and more like trying to knife someone in a back alley, as far as Gaeta can tell.

"Okay," he concedes.

It's Felix who's met the guy, after all.

"Maybe jealous of something about us, then. Something he doesn't have in his own life."

Gaeta looks up at the okay, but before Louis even finishes, he shakes his head.

"Sounded to me like he was pretty glad not to have it in his life," he says. Briefly, he presses his lips together in thought. "Have you...met anyone here who's been offended by the idea of two men sleeping together?"

Hoshi blinks.

"Uh, no."

A beat.

"Offended?"

"For religious reasons." Dry. "Again. It's weird, I just -- "

That's the only descriptor he can grasp: weird. Strange. Absurd in a way that, for whatever reason, feels like it goes far beyond Milliways' usual absurdity.

With another sigh, "I don't get it. He wouldn't explain beyond quoting his religious text at me."

"He was preaching at you?"

Another piece falls into place, and Hoshi frowns suddenly.

"Wait, that's not -- you're not saying that he was blaming us being together for the war?"

"No." Swiftly. "Gods no. It was more..."

He cycles his free hand, grasping for the idea. (It's the hand bearing fingernail marks on the palm, still visible, starting to bruise.)

"Another insult on top of a few more he'd already said. Or another crime on the list, maybe."

"And he unloaded all of it on you."

His expression is beginning to harden, even as he reaches for Felix's injured hand.

Gaeta lets him catch his hand without complaint. The wince he stifles comes more from Louis noticing the marks than any true pain.

"He was drunk," he tries to argue. "And frankly, the guy's an asshole even when he's sober. It wasn't that bad -- "

"Bad enough," he disagrees, and presses a gentle kiss to Felix's injured palm.

"I'm sorry, baby."

He shakes his head. Softer, "It's not anything."

Gaeta isn't quite aware of how he sounds: trying to convince Louis, but trying to convince himself as well.

Hoshi is, however, and it only adds to his growing determination.

"Mm. What was his name?"

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