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English
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Published:
2017-09-05
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2,513
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1/1
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when things were good

Summary:

"Are you avoiding the question, friend?"

Dedan brings the little bird in towards his face, chuffing as Japhet butts the top of his downy head against his chin. "Never," he says. "Like you'd drop it if I tried, you little pest."

"'Pest', he says!"

"Yeah, I says. What're you gonna do about it, pipsqueak? Gimme a pinch?" The talon on Dedan's thumb prods Japhet's fragile chest, eliciting a noise.

"Oh, a pinch I might give you. Invoke my ire and I might stomp on your toes, Tall Mister."

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The first time both Dedan and Enoch were introduced to Japhet's actual size and glory, only one out of the two of them had been thrilled. That being Enoch, relieved beyond words that he could finally lay a hand on his dear friend without so much anxiety that he might harm the songbird. Without meaning, or course. Dedan, on the other hand, had prattled on and on that it had to be cruel irony, for the Tall Mister to wind up the littlest in this gaggle of oddities. Still, he'd outright refused when Japhet dangled the idea of propositioning their darling boy for a new nickname over that hot head of his. Dedan was still a sight taller than their boy, he'd argued.

Their boy never grew, and the nicknames stayed. Long after the four of them had reluctantly parted ways, even, spoken in privacy with reverence, affection.

"Tall Mister," Japhet coos, just a songbird perched on a desk with a stack of papers tucked beneath him. If Dedan spares him a look, it's beyond impossible to tell, even for Japhet. Those eyes of his are so peculiar. But he knows he has his friend's attention when the old windbag sighs in acknowledgement. "You really must give this all a rest. Your work is invaluable, you don't need me to tell you this -" A paper draws near, and Japhet obligingly hops up and out of the way for it to be added to the pile. " - but love, we miss you so. Enoch's not been able to eat from fear that you've abandoned us. Are pen and ink so much more attractive than the company of your friends?"

"Bah. He's eating fine," Dedan snips with a snort, Japhet tittering in kind. "It'd do him some good, dropping a pound or two. Hell, maybe a hundred."

"Oh, but he's so handsome the way he is, Dedan."

"Make it sound like I'm insulting him, why don't you. All I mean is that he might not have such a strained relationship with doorways and innocuous pits in the ground if he weren't such a hefty customer."

Grumbling, the beast of a man sets his pen down finally for the first time this hour. When a clawed finger is offered to him, Japhet hops onto it, tweeting, coiling his tail around the rest of his friend's hand. Even in this petite form, the cat-like tail remains. It makes for a fine counterbalance, though it also makes snatching him up irritatingly easy.

"Are you avoiding the question, friend?"

Dedan brings the little bird in towards his face, chuffing as Japhet butts the top of his downy head against his chin. "Never," he says. "Like you'd drop it if I tried, you little pest."

"'Pest', he says!"

"Yeah, I says. What're you gonna do about it, pipsqueak? Gimme a pinch?" The talon on Dedan's thumb prods Japhet's fragile chest, eliciting a noise.

"Oh, a pinch I might give you. Invoke my ire and I might stomp on your toes, Tall Mister."

"Put that birdbrain of yours to work, Bird. You think I would honestly rather be sitting right here, on my ass, filling out request forms instead of being pestered by the both of you?" Flat, imposing teeth touch to the crown of Japhet's head, as close to a kiss as Dedan could give. In turn, Japhet nuzzles the top of his beak against the closed maw. It's strange, and not a particularly nice sensation, either. But it's their way.

"No," Japhet decides easily.

"Bingo. But with you reprobates cavorting about like a couple jolly fools, someone's got to do his job. And as it just so happens, that someone is me."

"And you are so good at your job, Dedan," Compliments win favors, Japhet knows, squinting in amusement at the proud sniff Dedan gives. "It would stand to reason, then, that more than either of us, you deserve a respite. A break, a vacation, a rendezvous? Perhaps, with your dear friends, Enoch and I."

For a long moment, Dedan rolls the suggestion around in his head. It wouldn't be playing hooky, exactly. He's a grown man and this Zone belongs to him and him alone. His workers are competent enough that a few hours of his absence would hardly be noticed, much less anything to cause a sweeping panic over. His chair creaks noisily as he leans back, away from his desk, hardly noticing when Japhet takes off with a frantic beat of those tiny wings to, instead, plant himself on a broad shoulder.

The way the songbird butts and shoves against him, it's crystal clear the little bugger's trying to schmooze. And if it isn't working. Dedan pretends inwardly that it's purely because he knows he damn well deserves the break, and not because his mottled, misshapen heart swells with affection. He strokes the top of Japhet's puny head with the pad of his index finger.

"Fine. You win. But I have a head to think the two of you chuckleheads have something planned, if you're being this pushy." He would eye Japhet suspiciously, if he could, but this close he can only see a tiny bit of the bird wedged against his neck.

"Planned, no," Japhet informs him with a pleased coo. Like the bird that got the worm, hook line and sinker. "But both Enoch and I have managed to escape our duties for the day, and thought there would be no better time than this to insist on your company. Of course, we knew you would agree -" He hops from Dedan's shoulder, ignoring his friend's squawk of protest when he's battered with tiny wings. Landing on the surprisingly tidy desk, it's another short hop down to the floor - shortened even further by the way his minuscule self bursts into a plume of flames and feathers that leaves a massive, glorious firebird in its wake. He lands with twin "thump"s on both his hooves. " - the offer is simply too tempting, yes. Too alluring for a creature such as yourself."

"The hell's that supposed to mean."

Chuckling, Japhet's great head bows down into Dedan's space. "Please, Dedan. You couldn't possibly be under the assumption that I of all birds am not keen to your deepest, darkest secret. That being that you are, in fact... fond of the occasional cuddle. As it were."

"Yeah, well," Dedan mutters lamely, unable to resist lifting a hand to comb his claws through his friend's beautiful (in Japhet's "humble" opinion) feathers. Might as well, if the overgrown turkey's going to cram himself in Dedan's personal space. "Who isn't. You're one of two buffoons propositioning me for, "as it were", the occasional cuddle."

"So I am."

Japhet allows the petting for a few moments more before he gently nudges Dedan's hand away with his beak. Thankfully, his friend takes that as his cue to grumble and groan in the way he does, draaaagging his long-limbed self from his seat and fussily fixing his coat - as per the norm, he fails to button it shut. It's a lost cause to nag him about it, so Japhet doesn't.

"Enoch's awaiting our arrival in Bismark," Japhet chirps, hunkering down onto the floor with a bit of adjustment on his hooves. He's quite the heavy creature, graceful though he manages to be. Dedan scoffs, muttering something about the both of them being so "insufferably certain" that they'd play him like a fiddle. Humming, Japhet motions with his beak, indicating towards his back. The fact that he is so much larger than the Tall Mister has, over the years, proved to come in handy on numerous occasions. None of which Dedan is willing to acknowledge aloud, preferring to silently grump as he's currently doing, alongside settling himself onto Japhet's back. It's like riding a Pedalo, Japhet had told him once. A pedalo who likes the sound of his own voice a whole lot, Dedan had teased back. Japhet had gotten too much of a laugh out of the comment to be irritated. "As always, please hold on. The plastic is less than placid today, I've heard. Be a shame to lose you to it, should you fall."

"It's plastic, it's always placid."

"Then I've been told a lie."

Swinging himself to his hooves, Japhet navigates his - their - way out of the peculiar office with practiced ease. The moment there's no long a roof overhead, he takes off, a bumpy start that transitions quickly into a smooth flight from thereon, save the seldom flap of those mighty wings that jostles Japhet's beloved cargo a tiny bit. It's a far shorter trip than it would've been by train, followed by foot, and Bismark's grand library makes for a perfect landing pad once they breach their ways into Zone 2. A fretful croon croaks out of Japhet just as he's landing, his wings still fanned out at his sides and his head swiveling around to check and see if Dedan's survived the trip. Of course, he has, and though he's a little shaken, a little stirred, he's able to climb right back off Japhet's back with only a little prodding from a worrisome beak.

He bats halfheartedly at the beak when it hangs in his face, his teeth grinding to choke down a flush when the massive bird takes that as an invitation to nuzzle into his palm. Bah.

If Enoch weren't waiting still down in the bowels of the library, Japhet would have loved to stay on the roof for a bit more flagrant flirting. But he is, and a butt of his forehead to Dedan's chin sends them on their ways down into the labyrinthine building.

"Enoch, love," Japhet warbles as he forces his mass through a tricky doorway, each individual feather of his rising and then settling in delight at the sight of his behemoth of a friend parked at the opposite end of the room. Enoch's attention leaves the comically tiny piece of literature he'd been biding his time with, a smile laced with fondness spreading across his round face. He beckons the firebird with a gloved hand.

"Japhet, my friend," Enoch greets back to him, tilting his head to catch Dedan ducking into the room behind their avian companion. "And you as well, Dedan. I'm so glad Japhet was able to convince you to join us. I was half certain you'd decline."

"Hardly certain at all, if you're only half certain," Japhet teases.

"Hush."

"Convince me, nothing. He tried guilting me," Dedan clicks his teeth, jerking a thumb towards Japhet. The bird huffs and shoos the hand with a wing, Dedan settling for folding his arms across his chest instead. They both make their ways over to join Enoch - Dedan takes an actual chair, being the most "reasonably" sized of the three of them. Enoch's seated on the floor, and Japhet tucks his enormous feathery rear into a makeshift nest he'd fashioned out of pillows and sheets. "Telling me you weren't eating. Couldn't have that."

Rumbling, Enoch sets his book aside. "Oh, but Dedan, he was telling the truth. I could count the meals I've had today on one hand, not two. Quite the cause for alarm, don't you think?"

The three of them bubble with laughter, at that.

It takes less than an hour before they all abandon the polite distance they'd placed between one another to start.

Japhet's favorite place to nest is Enoch's lap, resting his long neck against the warm curve of his vast stomach while Dedan relaxes on the firebird's downy back all over again. It's a bit like a game of stacking blocks, fitting them all together with their odd angles and even odder sizes. But they've had years to grow accustomed to it. Enoch thumbs Japhet's chest and the lovely little plume of feathers springing from its center, his other massive hand covering the lazing Dedan like a meaty blanket, occasionally giving his nude chest a pet as well. Wouldn't want the leather-skinned grouch to feel left out.

But even that much distance starts to be too much, and Japhet hoists himself (and Dedan) up onto Enoch's gut itself. A fat, comforting arm secures the great bird to him, Japhet tweeting, crooning with wordless affection.

It's a sad truth that there's no conceivable way for any of the three of them to kiss by conventional means. Neither Dedan nor Japhet have any lips to speak of. Enoch's the only human out of the three of them, and he's a mountain of one at that. Secretly, (or maybe not-so) Enoch takes great pleasure in being the only one actually capable of doting on his beloveds in that specific way.

He guides Japhet's head in to lay sickeningly tender kisses between those beady eyes, humming in acknowledgement of the flustered peeps his friend makes as he, hm-hm, pecks along the top of his beak. Thick fingers tickle the feathers lining Japhet's chin, eliciting even more darling sounds from the usually prideful firebird.

"Darling," Enoch croons.

"My love," Japhet calls back. Reluctantly, he draws his head away from Enoch's affectionate display - for a good cause. His forehead rubs into Dedan's, smearing the non-existent remnants of Enoch kisses all over the surly man. "And you, as well, Tall Mister."

Dedan grunts, catching Japhet's chin in a hand. "Bird," he rumbles, tone dripping with affection his warped face could never hope to convey. Adjusting his legs, Dedan lightly prods his knee into Enoch's gut. The giant gently squeezes the hand still covering him around him in return. "Yeah, you too, Big Mister."

They can and will go on like this for hours, if they let themselves. Talking in doting circles like a couple fools.

Today, thankfully, Enoch nips the madness in the bud before it can get out of hand and hoof, only smiling down at his two dearest friends in reply.

"Tomorrow is another day," someone says, eventually. It's Japhet, head pillowed against Enoch's tie, a wing and his tail spread over the hand blanketing Dedan. Below the layers of flesh and feathers, both Japhet and Enoch hear Dedan give a grumble of discontent. As if he could argue that fact, if he was cross about it enough. All three of them are busy men in their own rights, and it's grown increasingly more difficult over the years to manage time for all of them to be together like this at once.

"Yes," Both of Enoch's hands move as he talks, thumbs petting the underside of Japhet's beak and Dedan's jaw. "But today was a good day. And there will be more good days."

They agree.

A few hours from now, they'll need to part ways again and settle for the rare occasion where two of them will find each other, share a few affectionate words and maybe a cuddle before drifting apart again. Who knows how long this burgeoning world of theirs will keep them apart again this time. It's so hard to tell.

But for now, they're together, and everything is good. The memory will have to hold them over.

Notes:

japhet is fun to write but also he sounds like a sentient thesaurus