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[ 19O72O16 — New York, U.S.A. ]
"What do you want to eat tomorrow for breakfast?" Iolaus asks.
His Greek accent is well imprinted in his way to speak and pronunciation, though it's melodic and absolutely pleasant to hear and he manages to talk fluently anyway. And if he doesn't know some words Iolaus is able to make people understand him with his hands. Luke noticed it the first time the blond has appeared in the enchanted circle accidentally created by Clary and Simon — the way he speaks with clear voice, easy-going gestures and expressive features.
Tonight there will be full moon, though, and when this time comes the days before are absolute hell for the werewolf. His body feels aching and unbalanced, his senses a bit more sharpened than usual and his moods swing and change quite easily. This makes Luke grumpy and rough, sometimes, even if his personality helps him keep eventual snaps low often enough. He has explained it to Iolaus in order not to discourage his being so noisy and easy-going. It gives the house so much light — it seems — that Luke has gotten used to it.
For his part the guy hasn't given him any problem at all and has proved to be indeed surprisingly mature, explaining they have werewolves where he comes from, that he's kind of used to them and fascinated as well. This last detail hasn't come as a surprise since Iolaus seems to be fascinated by the world itself; so is Luke, even if in a more quiet way.
"Anything will do." he replies, eyeing the little young man.
Iolaus's hanging around with tight trousers, sneakers and an open, short sleeved shirt — he's so used to the clothes he used to wear in Greece he can't really stand wearing long sleeves and so on. He does love jeans and flannel shirts and trousers, though. He really can't sit still for more than a few minutes, Luke noticed, and if he's not complaining about their not being outside is only because of the older man's conditions.
It doesn't seem to be a problem, even if Luke feels a bit guilty. In his defence, he has tried to keep Iolaus away from him — with his: you're twelve years younger than me, we don't belong to the same era, I'm too dangerous, you could get hurt and I don't want you to etc.
He really has.
But that little jerk is way too stubborn, so much that he comes out with those silly questions and doesn't take the cut short answers he gets as a sign Luke is not keen on conversations right now. Instead, he shrugs and adds that: "Clary told me about... ehm... what was its name again?"
He frowns, tries to remember it and makes a rounded shape with his index fingers.
"You know, the Italian thing we ate some days ago, with tomatoes and mozzarella."
"Pizza." Luke says, not leaving the page he's been reading for the last two minutes now. Will he ever succeed in turning it with Iolaus' voice echoing in his ears?
"Yes, that one!" he hears the blond guy say with satisfaction and excitement, and he can feel the dimples flashing on his cheeks just like he feels the wave of warmth that fills his chest in that very moment. "Is it something you eat for breakfast?"
Luke raises an eyebrow and looks up at Iolaus. He's now sitting by his side with The Lord of the Rings on his lap. Luke will have told him a dozen times that book is way too difficult even for those whose mother language is English, but apparently Iolaus' understanding skills are controversial enough for him to find Tolkien's literaly language way more understandable than the teenagers' American English. The brunet finds himself unable to utterly differ.
He doesn't even question himself where those curiosities come from. He doesn't do it anymore now. He just shakes his head with a kind of apologetic, tired smile.
"I don't think so, Iolaus. "
"Ugh, pity, I liked it." Iolaus says, looking a bit disappointed. Which is, to Luke's surprise, no news: this guy eats an incredible amount of food for being as tiny as he is. On the other hand, though, his energy will have to come from somewhere.
Iolaus waits a few moments before he turns from page three-hundred ninety-four to Luke. He looks hopeful as he asks: "Can we have it for lunch, then? It will cheer you up! Or at least I think so — I felt happy after eating it, so I guess it will work this way for you as well. You are much more..." he frowns and licks his bottom lip. "When you are happy, I mean. I don't know, I kind of like it better."
Now this makes Iolaus get a puzzled glare. Puzzled in the good sense of the word: he was just hoping to see that tiny grateful sparkle appearing in Luke's dark eyes. It makes him look more healthy than he can do now.
"Yeah, of course we can if you want." Luke nods. Then he sits a bit closer to Iolaus, glaring at him seriously. "Listen, Iolaus, you know tonight you'll have to stay here on your own."
"I do." Iolaus slowly replies.
"Will you be fine? And by this I mean: will you avoid trying to come after me and put yourself in danger?"
Iolaus makes a grimace that, on his face, looks a bit childish. As if he is about to say that, Gods, again? — but he doesn't say anything like this.
"Will we eat pizza together if I do as you want me to?"
"We will." Luke promises.
"Then it's fine." the blond nods, with a mischievous look in his blue eyes. "We still have a bit of time before you have to go. Come here?"
Luke chuckles and closes his book, takes Iolaus' one as well and put them away. Then he gently snuggles in the blond waiting arms, lifts him with ease and put him on his lap. Which earns him a protest.
"Hey, it is me who should spoil you now!"
"You will reckon this way is more comfortable given our sizes, darling." And as a matter of fact, Luke's Aplha wolf instincts are quite willing for him to be the one who holds close his mate and not the other way around. "Am I not right?"
"I am not that small." Iolaus pouts — he actually pouts! "But alright. Just because tonight is going to be rough for you and you are good at cuddling."
Iolaus snuggles close with neither shame nor reservation because, yeah, Luke is more than just good at cuddling: he is warm, reassuring, feels safe and loving and lovable as well. And even though he may feel weak in this moment he is not.
And if he takes him to let Luke hold him when it should be otherwise — Iolaus thinks — then it's fine. He likes warmth anyway.