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The afternoon began with what Taako referred to as, quote, “the chillest fuckin’ chill sesh your cold-and-clammy ass will ever have the pleasure of attending, handsome”. Just the two of them, a hefty bowl of popcorn, a decently comfy sofa, and an arcanic transmission of the Neverwinter Battlefest. It’s… not what Kravitz is used to, to say the least, but he supposes he can get behind it. Really, time alone with Taako and zero pressure or commitment is… kind of ideal.
It’s probably an hour in when Angus joins them, an addition Taako regards with mostly-false irritation and that Kravitz, to be honest, doesn’t particularly mind. Sure, they’d intended this to be… well, more of a “date night” situation, but Angus is good company and Kravitz really can’t bring himself to turn the kid away regardless.
(Taako, on the surface, has far fewer reservations about shoving the boy out on his ass for interrupting them, but Kravitz knows his boyfriend better than that. Angus could ask for just about anything and his mentor would probably give it to him, lovingly gift-wrapped, putting on airs that this was just a convenient coincidence that served only to benefit him in the end.)
So they settle in, Taako in Kravitz’s lap, Angus in Taako’s, and the bowl of popcorn in Angus’; a little nesting doll of cosiness and snacks and scattered, enthusiastic wrestling commentary from the two wizards. It’s a little surprising that Taako is such a fan of the sport, and Kravitz casually comments as such, earning a withering look that makes it quite clear this is top-secret information he’s become privy to.
Twenty minutes later, the door of the dorm swings noisily open, and the rest of Trés Horny Boys enter, Magnus and Merle engaged in some sort of loud, embittered discussion. (Kravitz would only learn later that the topic was, apparently, “do you think you could train a dog to use a sword?”.) Magnus - perhaps not surprisingly - is almost immediately distracted by the sounds of battle, catapulting himself onto the couch (and very nearly straight into Kravitz), pointedly ignoring Taako’s indignant complaints as the fighter helps himself to the popcorn. Merle lingers and grumbles to himself in the kitchen for another few minutes, then plants himself on Kravitz’s other side with a beer in hand.
Ok, great. So, rather than a quiet afternoon of just him and Taako doing a whole lot of nothing, Kravitz is pinned into the couch on all sides by an intensely precocious small child, and two people who would probably cheerfully attempt to murder him if Taako didn’t care about him so damn much. Fantastic. Not stressful at all.
Taako grumbles something about Magnus eating all the popcorn and how “ch’a boy’s gotta do everything around here,” then blinks out of the space between Kravitz and Angus, retreating into the kitchen to replenish their snack supply. So, Kravitz is now pinned on all sides and has been deprived of Taako. Perfect. Fantastic. He’s totally fine with this. He’s definitely not about to lose hold of his corporeal form from sheer anxiety.
“I’m inviting Carey and Killian over,” Magnus loudly declares, pulling out his stone of farspeech and disregarding Taako’s squawk of protest.
Kravitz idly wonders if anyone else can hear the frantic screams he’s been emitting in his head.
Flash forward another twenty minutes, and the previously-empty room is, frankly, packed. Carey and Killian had not only heartily accepted Magnus’ invitation, but also passed it along to Noelle and Avi. (Avi, at the very least, had the decency to arrive with pizza and a liter of soda.) Shortly after their arrival, Merle had hoisted himself off the couch, loudly declared, “Well if Magnus can invite people over, so can I!”, and soon after Lucretia, Davenport, and Barry had joined them as well.
Kravitz, despite stammered offers to move and (what he felt was) an increasingly evident panic in his eyes, is trapped in the center of the crowded couch. Magnus and Killian are to his left, Carey in the latter’s lap, and Magnus has inexplicably found it acceptable to throw an arm over Kravitz’s shoulders like they’re old buddies. (In another situation he might have at least appreciated the apparent display of friendship, but given how rowdy Magnus has become over the course of the Battlefest, right now he’s mostly just terrified he’ll be pulled into a headlock at any given moment.) Merle remains at his right, now on his third beer and nearly clocking Kravitz more than once with his wild gesticulations, with Davenport beside him and Lucretia perched on the arm of the couch, politely asking questions about the nature of Battlefest. Even beyond the physical confines of the couch, he’s pinned - Avi and Barry are sprawled out on the floor in front of him, and behind him, Noelle looms in her robotic body, the lingering traces of her spirit within causing an uncomfortable pins-and-needles feeling at the base of his neck.
The one saving grace of this whole situation is that Taako is back in Kravitz’s lap - after too fucking long, frankly, having been drafted into fetching food and drinks for the increasingly large party, but back nevertheless. The weight of his body, the living warmth radiating off of him, the smell of floral shampoo in his long hair… all of it does wonders to make Kravitz feel calm and centered and safe, even as the crowd leaves his flight instincts cranked to maximum.
Somewhere in the middle of things, Taako leans back so his head rests on Kravitz’s shoulder (however much of it isn’t currently held in a death grip by Magnus), turning so his lips barely brush his ear. “Hey,” he whispers, warm and gentle; Kravitz is honestly surprised he can hear him through the din of the transmission and the food and the chatter. “You all good?”
The reaper blinks, turning just enough that he can see Taako’s face, surprised to find the wizard looking uncharacteristically serious. “I’ll make ‘em all leave, I don’t give a shit,” he murmurs, and Kravitz knows him well enough by now to realize he’s not even in the neighborhood of bluffing. “Or make up some excuse so you can get out. Just say the word.”
He considers a long moment, processing the offer, the energy of the room, and his own terrified, persistent longing to get the fuck out. Then he considers the comforting feeling of Taako’s body against his, Magnus’ overly-friendly-but-still-friendly arm around his shoulders, and the fact that, well, all of Taako’s dearest friends (much as the elf would deny even remotely liking any of them) were apparently comfortable enough with him to just… spontaneously hang out with the grim reaper without fuss or fanfare.
He takes a long, slow breath, unnecessary as it is. “I’m fine. Really,” he whispers back, urging a slight smile onto his face. “I want to stay.”
Taako’s gaze lingers silently, brow slightly furrowed - trying to figure out, Kravitz eventually realizes, just how much of his response is mere politeness. After a minute he relents, expression softening, and subtly nods, squeezing the reaper’s arm and pressing a chaste kiss to his jawline. Then he sits back up and acts like nothing happened, continuing his false air of detachment while Angus titters excitedly about some fighter or another.
Kravitz inhales deeply again, rests his hands on Taako’s hips, and tries to tune out the lingering internal screams.
“That,” Taako all but shouts, slamming an armful of empty popcorn bowls onto the counter, “was a load of fucking bullshit.”
Kravitz can’t help but wheeze with laughter, taken as always by his boyfriend’s melodrama. “Are you referring to the impromptu party or the match? Because, honestly, I don’t think bullshit is quite the right word for either of those.”
The elf throws him a look and stands himself fully upright, ears flicking backwards. “First of all, that Jeff Angel is nothing but a pretty face with no fucking personality, and the fact that the ref didn’t call him on half that shit was blatant fucking favoritism,” he snaps, and Kravitz has to busy himself with collecting beer bottles to keep from cracking up at the sheer seriousness in his tone. “And secondly, yes I mean the fucking party, dumbass! Fuckin’- all of them barging on in here when I’m clearly trying to enjoy a nice quiet evening with the boy toy- and, you! That’s the other thing--!”
By the time Kravitz is able to register oh wait, shit, he means me and glance back up, Taako has crossed the room and gotten right up in his face, features scrunched up with irritation. “I- sorry, what-?” The reaper fumbles, instinctively taking a step back. “I don’t- I’m not sure what I did that-??”
Taako interrupts by jabbing a finger into his chest, glaring up at him through thick lashes. “You have got to fucking talk to me in these situations, hombre. I know I seem like a miracle worker, and in most cases I am, but like- I can’t read your mind, buddy. I don’t know, like, how much is just standard reaper-man awkwardness and how much is you straight up not being able to do this, you feel?”
“...Oh.” There’s a vague, uncomfortable fluttering of guilt in his chest, and he averts his eyes, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. “Oh. Uhm.”
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, none of that.” A slender hand curls under his chin, and Taako gently tilts his head back up until their eyes meet again, the elf’s expression now significantly more tender. “I don’t- I just need you to tell me when it’s too much, okay? That’s all. And- and like, be real about when it is too much, like- no fucking yourself up because you don’t wanna be rude or disappoint me or some stupid bullshit like that. I-” and he falters a moment, hand tensing ever so slightly against Kravitz’s cool skin. “I- care about you, dumbass. I care about you and I wanna make sure that- that whatever we’re doing together that it’s- that you’re always cool with what’s going on. Okay?”
He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, guilt washing away as quickly as it had built, and he steps forward to gently draw his arms around the elf. “Yeah. Yeah, I- okay,” he smiles, letting the warmth of Taako’s skin pull all remaining anxiety from his chest. “I can- I can do that. I didn’t mean to worry you today, I honestly did enjoy- well, I mean, not all of it, obviously, that was way too many people in one room for me and Magnus was really manhandling me all night but- but I meant it when I said it was fine. I really did. And I- and I will tell you when things aren’t fine. I promise. And I- I appreciate it. That you, uh- just-” Words fail him at that point, so he settles for a nervous chuckle, drawing Taako into a close hug, and finishing with simply, “Th-thank you.”
A snort of laughter bubbles up from the elf, and he wraps his own arms around Kravitz without hesitation, going up on tiptoe so he can press their lips together. “You know it, bubula,” he grins, cradling the reaper’s face, and despite the lightness of his tone there’s so much adoration in his eyes that Kravitz nearly swoons.
He realizes, for what must be the millionth time, that he is absolutely in love with this man.
“So, uh,” Taako interrupts, lazily twisting one of Kravitz’s dreadlocks around his finger, eyes rolling skywards in thought. “Everyone’s outta our hair now, sooo… what say you and I retire to my room to continue our regularly scheduled chill sesh? Let Maggie ‘n Merle deal with this mess? Seems like the least they can do after interrupting our night like that.”
Kravitz can’t help but laugh, drawing Taako impossibly closer, soaking up every last bit of living heat he’s able. “Sounds like a plan to me, love.”
“Rad,” the elf grins, and Kravitz doesn’t miss how his face lights up at the pet name. Another peck to the lips, and Taako disentangles himself from the reaper’s hold, grabbing his hand and leading him away.
Not exactly the afternoon he’d had in mind, but Kravitz decided he wouldn’t have it any other way.