[ This isn't the place for desert blooms or soft things. Maybe back home, where the canals help everything to flourish. But not here. The dorm's climate is too arid, too unforgiving, for soft things like that to survive. Perhaps that's part of why Kalim is so at odds with everything here; too nurturing and forgiving for a place like Night Raven, and yet he remains, because--
Well. He's only ever wanted to be at Jamil's side. Desperate to stay close to him, even when they were children. He only recently realized why that was such a devastating thing.
All told, it's not far from the dorm. Not as far as the oasis, at least, but far enough that they won't be discovered. Carpet drifts to a stop beside the columns, and Kalim hops off, holding out his hand again to assist Jamil. Distractedly so, though; Kalim is gaping up at the moon, a sharp cut of a crescent over the nearby dune. ]
Wow! It's really beautiful here at night. Haha!
[ Then, when he turns to look up at the columns: ]
What do you think this place used to be? It's not on any of the dorm maps. Then again, the oasis isn't either, but--
[The part of him that noted that it was probably really weird that he was so used to being dragged around by Kalim had died something like...nine years ago. Approximately.
So, Kalim offers him his hand and Jamil takes it and climbs off of Carpet.
What did this place used to be...]
I never really thought about it. [He said, clearly now thinking about it.] Was it ever anything?
[What the hey, now he is thinking about it.] It may have been simply something someone thought might be nice to have. [Pre-ruined ruins and all. For atmosphere.]
[ Kalim can see the mental pathways he would usually travel. Scold Jamil about a lack of imagination, cajole him with a stream-of-consciousness myriad of theories about the ruins' prior usage. And each theory would be more inane than the last, until he could goad Jamil into cracking the faintest smile, and the world would be right, if only because Kalim managed to melt that ice for a fraction of a second.
Instead, he hums, and nods, and shrugs through his grin. ]
You're probably right.
[ Carpet meanders through the air while Kalim picks his way up to (what he assumes is) the stage. ]
[What the hey, now he's really thinking about the ruins. He turns, eyeing the ruins with a contemplating gaze, thinking about...why are they here?]
I have a few ideas.
[Because of course Kalim didn't get as far as what the fire show was going to be, and Jamil sighs, and if that sigh almost sounds like a fond huff that's just the fickle desert tradewinds throwing off noises.]
I saw a video of a dance that could be considered a fire show. The dancers had fans and- showing you would be easier.
[He pulls out his phone, joining Kalim on the stage. Please excuse the technical difficulties as he tries to get a signal. Reception can kind of suck in the Scarabian desert.
While they wait for it to load, though:]
Whomever put these ruins here might have had something from home in mind when they made them. So, even if these ruins came...well, ruined, they might have an original and the original might have had a purpose.
[Because Kalim dropping it bothered him, okay? And there's nothing else to do while waiting for things to load.]
Weren't a lot of the ruins back home just tombs? What if there's a secret passageway somewhere? Like we have to find the right floor tile to trigger the trap door to the staircase, and we'll find a genie lamp if we follow it down far enough! But if we hit the wrong floor tile, it'll trigger a trap and we'll narrowly avoid plunging to our deaths when Carpet darts out last second to save the day...
[ Kalim is hopping onto likely-looking floor tiles anyway. ]
You have terrible reception out here.
[ While they're pointing out the obvious, might as well throw that one out there. Why is Kalim pulling his own phone out to check his reception? They're on the same plan, it's not like his signal will magically be better. ]
Wow, this really is the middle of nowhere, huh? Do you think you're going to have any luck loading that?
[ That is an extraordinarily polite way of expressing doubt, in case Jamil was having any difficulty reading it as such. ]
Why don't you show me instead? We've both done enough dance and choreo! I'll pick it up in no time!
[And there it was, just for a second, a slight twitch of Jamil's lips as he listens to Kalim...and then it was tempered to a thoughtful frown. And then it became an actual frown. Not angry, just thoughtful, because if this was a replication of a tomb (plausible...likely, even, as Kalim was right: a lot of the ruins were tombs and this looked like much the same as those tombs) from the Scalding Sands, how far did the replication go?
Or to put it another way, if this was a fake tomb, were there...fake bones buried deep within this fake tomb?]
...
[Yeah, okay, he's not going to think about that.]
Me showing you would require me knowing how to do the dance in the first place. I only watched a video a few times.
[He says, while putting away his phone and looking around for- ah. Well. Sticks aren't exactly the most glamorous replacement for fans on fire, but they're in the middle of nowhere and don't have much besides their magical pens, and their dorm uniforms, and Carpet to work with.]
The idea is that we'd be dancing while holding something on fire. I've seen dancers with fans, knives, or a version in which the dancers hold a-
[Fuck, he's blanking on the name of the...things. Fire thing on fire attached to chain that person holds things.]
Lanterns on fire, I suppose, connected by chains - the dancer holds the chain and spins the lantern around them. [Not knowing the name of it is going to bother him, because he's supposed to provide excellence and yet here he is, badly describing the thing.] You know the thing I'm talking about, correct? Well, it probably doesn't matter if you don't, as fans would be the easiest for us to manage given the circumstances.
[ Kalim's many siblings have just as many hobbies. He can only summon the term from his recollection by virtue of how often he'd whacked himself in the face when his sister tried to teach him. Thankfully, the things weren't on fire at the time, or he might be a tad less good-natured about it. Maybe. His penchant for forgiveness is seemingly limitless. ]
Let's not do the poi one. But flaming swords sounds fun! We don't even need a video for that. We can just choreograph it ourselves and set the swords on fire when we've got it worked out.
I'm excited! I didn't think we'd get to dance together tonight! This was a great idea, Jamil!
[...there was a great deal wrong with what Kalim had just said, so much wrong, so many wrong things, a mountain of wrong things. Jamil didn't even know where to begin with Kalim's ocean of wrong things that he had just said.]
Of course. Did you really think I would come out into the middle of the desert with you if I couldn't think of a way for us to dance together?
[All of this was said with the airy self confidence of a boy who didn't accidentally reveal that he might have maybe kind of wanted to possibly dance with Kalim and explicitly went out into the middle of nowhere with him just to maybe be alone with him for a while, and also with the breezy self confidence of a boy who wasn't turning away to find more sticks to use as 'swords' so Kalim couldn't see the ever so slight blush which may or may not exist on his face. But Jamil could feel it. Even if he wasn't actually flushed, he could feel himself wanting to blush, and Schrodinger's Blush was worse than actually knowing he was blushing.
So, instead, a distraction.]
If this is a replica of a tomb, how much do you think they took the time to copy?
He'd probably have an answer for Jamil's second question, if the first hadn't shorted out his brain altogether. It's not what Jamil meant, he knows. It can't be. But he's making it sound like the sole purpose of this outing was -- truly -- to dance with one another. And as soon as the suggestion is made, Kalim is envisioning it; spinning one another around his stage, kicking up sand in their path like a pair of dervishes, changing the lead every other turn, and drawing closer, closer, closer--
Replica of a tomb. Right. Get it together, Kalim! ]
I must've stepped on at least half these tiles, and I haven't triggered a trap or a door. So probably not much! Unless the entrance is somewhere else? Mm... Where do they usually put tomb doors?
[...okay, Jamil feels composed, he feels like he can face Kalim without feeling the visceral need to slither into the nearest shadows and hide, he found a decent sized stick that could be a decent enough sword (at least for the sake of choreography), and Kalim bit upon the subject change and they could segue away from why they're in this desert together.]
Not really?
[He turns, and offers the large stick for Kalim's consideration. Decently sword-like? No? The balance is wrong but they still need things of the right length to practice with.]
I think we've been to a tomb once or twice, but it isn't as if there was any reason for us to linger near one. As kids, there were always better places for us to play.
[ There must have been other ruins they played around as well, but there was never much reason for them to leave the house outside of special occasions. It truly would have been few and far between; even less reason for Kalim to remember them. (And it's natural to second-guess gaps in his own recollection after the ordeal over winter break, but the less said of that, the better.)
Kalim takes the stick and turns it over in his hand a few times, gauging the weight. It doesn't feel like a sword at all. They've practiced sword fighting, mostly out of formality, and even their wooden practice swords were more expertly balanced than this. But beggars can't be choosy. ]
Are we actually sparring with the swords, or are they more like props?
[He hadn't actually gotten that far in figuring out this hypothetical fire show sword dance, and choreography would be a challenge, and if they wanted to dance to music they'd have to use whatever songs they had downloaded to their respective phones and hope for the best.
Still, there was only one answer to that.]
Props.
[Obviously, and in case Kalim didn't get why?]
They'll be on fire, otherwise this won't be much of a fire show. I'm not letting you hit me with anything on fire, nor am I going to try hitting you with something on fire while hoping you dodge like we practiced.
But Mirah told me that if you're practicing good fire safety, it won't matter too too much if the flame touches you for a moment. So don't worry too much! Plus, if one of us catches fire, I can put us out.
[ But an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of whatever, so Kalim twirls his stick at his side -- wide circles with a twist of his wrist -- while he mentally paces out some choreo. ]
[The choices are limited. His signal's shit and he doesn't have a lot of playlists downloaded to his phone. He tries a few songs. There's a bit of what sounds like hip-hop, a bit of angry death metal maybe...? Jamil's eyes widened and his nose wrinkled as he saw, of all things, the Twisted Wonderland's equivalent to Taylor Swift's latest hit on his phone. He doesn't play that. He just is going to wonder who's responsible for that. Najma? Ace trying to pull some kind of esoteric prank?
He settles on some inoffensive Bollywoodesque dance music with an inoffensive beat, something neutral that...doesn't say much about who Jamil is as a person, something easy to choreograph to, and easy to switch out.]
Oh! I like this one! I memorized the dance for this scene!
[ Inoffensive, sure, if one neglects to consider the context of the film scene it's taken from. It was a popular film a few years ago in the Sands, and this was the climax. The leading man confesses his love to the heroine in the middle of a crowded shopping plaza, so of course it inspired a slew of flash mobs, and the choreo was easy enough to follow.
For a moment, Kalim forgets about the fire show (and the stick in his hand). ]
Do you remember all those Magicam clips of people dancing to it in the Camel Bazaar?
[ Kalim shuffles through the first few steps of the choreo. ]
And then it was like--
[ Kalim sidles up to slip an arm around Jamil's waist. Absolutely not intentional; he's only emulating the film. Ahem. ]
Of course I remember. I got caught up in one of those mobs.
[And not by choice. He was just there, it happened, he got swept up into it.
Jamil also might be continuing the choreo, dancing the heroine's part, because, unfortunately, his relationship to Kalim is such that Kalim could start dancing a tango, a square dance, a waltz, and he's compelled to dance with him. This is more of the same.
...don't ask him how he knows the part or why he's going along with it in general or why he's not flipping the script or why he's not forcing them into something else just yet. The second Kalim falters, he will. Until then, they're dancing this stupid scene the whole way through.]
I once had a nightmare about this scene. Or, rather, the flash mobs that came about because of this scene. We were in the Camel Bazaar, shopping for some fruit. The vendors started dancing, then, the tourists started dancing, one thing led to another, and I had to take you and dive into one of the canals to escape. Downright silly.
If that really had happened you'd just get them all to dance with you, one way or another.
[ Kalim laughs. Full, warm, stretching the entire breadth of the ruins and out into the night air. He laughs in that unfettered way that he can only manage with Jamil, grinning so widely he can barely see, and winds Jamil closer through the first turn in the dance. ]
Everyone would have to join in! There'd be no escape for anyone, not even you.
[ It doesn't sound like a threat. Not when Kalim has his hand on Jamil's lower back through a twirl, and certainly not when he leans into a small dip. One they quickly come out of in favor of a shuffle.
It's easy to focus on the choreography, easier still to laugh about what Jamil calls a nightmare and Kalim calls a dream. Better than focusing on how sweetly the warmth blooms in his chest when they touch, or how expertly they move around each other -- with each other -- the boon of a lifetime of dancing hand in hand and knowing one another like no one else ever will. Dancing comes to them as naturally as breathing, and it's the one time when everything feels right, no matter what else is transpiring outside of whatever they've chosen as their dancefloor. ]
We should do this every night! We used to. Why don't we anymore?
[There were a lot of answers he could give to that question. Some bitter. Some tired. Some that would deflate the mood like a needle to a balloon, swift and effective, he had plenty of those, sour answers that pointed out their respective stations in life, their positions.
But...Kalim knew those now, at least he hoped. Kalim seemed to know. There was no reason to rub his nose in those truths unless he wanted to be cruel, and, as Kalim had yet to falter, Jamil didn't feel like being cruel. No. As long as Kalim was steadfast and moved with conviction, he'd be steadfast with him.
Jamil felt like being honest.
So, he rolled around the question in his head as they danced like they knew each other, truly understood each other, Kalim's hand right where it was supposed to be when the music demanded it, Jamil twisting to meet Kalim's footsteps, and finally came at the most basic, elemental, blunt truth, something even Kalim couldn't deny.]
We get a lot of homework.
[And other types of work too, but mostly the homework and surprise exams are a big deal, and those cut into dancing hours.
What.
Look, it's the most elemental, undeniable truth that won't destroy the mood, okay.]
[ It is true, and that's precisely why Kalim bursts into laughter. ]
Is that why! What a tricky way to get me to study.
[ The song winds down to the finale, a few dramatic turns, arms wound tighter and tighter around one another while Kalim's hands slide up to Jamil's shoulders. This scene won some kind of teen choice award for best kiss, and Kalim does remember that. Vaguely. But it's nestled so comfortably in the back of his mind, it doesn't even occur to him until their foreheads are pressed together, and then--
Then the song ends. And Kalim is frozen, so close he can taste Jamil's breath on his lips. It's a razor's edge, this thread of tension thrumming between them; the slightest shift could cut them to the quick, or else send them falling. For the life of him, Kalim can't imagine which he'd rather. ]
[They dance, a few dramatic turns, arms moving tighter and tighter around each other, the world and the music further and further away from Jamil's notice. The only thing he notices is, as always, Kalim. If Kalim was the sun he would be his moon. If Kalim was the moon, he'd be the ocean, his restless tides at the mercy of Kalim's whims. If Jamil tried to fly away (and he knew that he had, and that he would, again and again) he'd still find himself always returning to Kalim's side at the end. Again and again.
They danced, they drew closer and closer together, Kalim's hands sliding up to his shoulders, foreheads pressed together, he could almost taste Kalim's breath on his lips, and then-
And then Kalim faltered, in the end.
Jamil smiles, one of those merciless ones that- no, not like that. Not cruel, not exactly, but Kalim faltered, which meant that it was his turn to take the lead and make Kalim fight for it.]
You didn't forget how this dance ended, did you?
[Here he is, ignoring the question about choreography.]
[ But Jamil has to be the one to do it. Jamil has to initiate. It still feels wrong otherwise, like Kalim is taking advantage of something that Jamil never wanted in the first place. Again.
There are no crickets in the Scalding Sands. At night, it's startlingly quiet; only whistling wind and a gentle rustle of the shifting sand. Quiet. Serene, in a way. But that's why this silence between them seems to stretch on for ages. And here, again, Kalim is confronted by an unfortunate truth about himself:
He's not fearless. He's not careless. What he fears and cares about -- above all else -- is never doing anything to drive Jamil away again. And yet here's the sinking suspicion that he's building a wall between them through inaction instead.
Kalim's hands are soft, smooth as the silks that clothe him, and when he reaches up to stroke Jamil's cheek -- fingertips playing across his cheek bone, thumbpad brushing over his lips -- Jamil might catch the faint scent of jasmine between them. ]
[Kalim is smooth and soft and inviting, as his fingertips brush his lips Jamil inhales - sharp, crisp, it feels like a shout for how quiet the desert is around them - and there's a part of him that wants nothing more than to take the moment and dive into it. But, at the same time, it doesn't feel like it's his moment, it's Kalim's moment, extended.
Jamil smells jasmine. He brushes a bit of hair from Kalim's forehead - it isn't as if he has much of anything to brush away, it's touching for the sake of touching. The night is still, and they've never done anything right, ever, not unless-
-and he takes Kalim's hand and pulls him into another dance, a simple box-step waltz, at least at first, him counting out the steps until Kalim knows well enough to follow as there's no music, just instinct and Jamil's voice, counting-]
One, two three, one, two, three-
[And once he's confident in Kalim following his lead.]
I think you forgot. I only remembered because Najma was excited when it that one award. Some teen's choice award?
[ Kalim doesn't falter though. He's every bit as willing to follow as he is to lead, and just as adept. Leading, following; they each fall into step just as well, as long as they're dancing with one another. It never seems to come as naturally with anyone else. And given that Jamil snatched the lead up as quickly as Kalim dropped it? That says something too. Something about balance, two halves of a whole, completeness...
There's no attempt made to make headway toward their actual objective, and Jamil doesn't seem to care. Which is good. Unusual, but good. Kalim can't quite wrap his head around why that may be, because assuming that Jamil simply wants to dance with him is too good to be true.
So it's easier to focus on the rhythm, on Jamil's voice. One-two, three. Easier to focus on his the arm around his waist and the hand in his hand. Easier to believe this is practice. One-two, three. Because that's all it's ever been to Jamil, isn't it? Not leisure. Not pleasure.
Kalim doesn't try to take back the lead. But he adjusts his footwork to wind them closer. Waltzing is too far a distance when they'd been a breath away from kissing only moments ago, and Kalim can't bear it. ]
[Oh, Jamil says, in a sharper, more...interested way, in the same way that a predator might be interested in noticing that his prey had just let down his guard and seemed to be in no hurry to raise it again. That sort of interest. If he was a beastman, something canine or feline, perhaps, his ears would be pricked forward, interested, focused.
Jamil's a human, not a beastman: his ears remained where they were. He just politely waltzed, letting Kalim pull closer, leading them through turns as they danced.]
Maybe you're right. [Hmm. Look at him thoughtfully thinking about this, hmmmmm.] That said, I don't particularly remember the specifics; I remember the dance, and I remember some of the songs, and I remember Najma talking to me about the movie. If you want us to do better, Kalim, you'll have to refresh me on what happened. What was their kiss like?
[ That's the thing about cinematic kisses. They're for entertainment. They lack sincerity. ]
But the actors had good chemistry. Their characters were written really well, so you were rooting for them the entire film. So I think it was more about that, you know? It was the payoff of a really satisfying lead-up.
[ One-two, three. Maybe they'd already outlived the climax of their story, though. This has all been so alien since Jamil's overblot. Hot and cold, shades of grey that never existed before. Kalim is familiar with some parts, and others are strange to him. One-two, three.
Case in point, Kalim can't wrap his head around why Jamil is asking. Sometimes he just can't read between the lines. What was their kiss like? Why does he want to know? ]
But at the end of the song, he lifted her up. He was holding her legs so that her head was a little higher than his, and then she leaned down to kiss him while he still held her. And there were flower petals everywhere.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(( @viziernary ))
Isn't it?
[ This isn't the place for desert blooms or soft things. Maybe back home, where the canals help everything to flourish. But not here. The dorm's climate is too arid, too unforgiving, for soft things like that to survive. Perhaps that's part of why Kalim is so at odds with everything here; too nurturing and forgiving for a place like Night Raven, and yet he remains, because--
Well. He's only ever wanted to be at Jamil's side. Desperate to stay close to him, even when they were children. He only recently realized why that was such a devastating thing.
All told, it's not far from the dorm. Not as far as the oasis, at least, but far enough that they won't be discovered. Carpet drifts to a stop beside the columns, and Kalim hops off, holding out his hand again to assist Jamil. Distractedly so, though; Kalim is gaping up at the moon, a sharp cut of a crescent over the nearby dune. ]
Wow! It's really beautiful here at night. Haha!
[ Then, when he turns to look up at the columns: ]
What do you think this place used to be? It's not on any of the dorm maps. Then again, the oasis isn't either, but--
no subject
So, Kalim offers him his hand and Jamil takes it and climbs off of Carpet.
What did this place used to be...]
I never really thought about it. [He said, clearly now thinking about it.] Was it ever anything?
[What the hey, now he is thinking about it.] It may have been simply something someone thought might be nice to have. [Pre-ruined ruins and all. For atmosphere.]
no subject
Instead, he hums, and nods, and shrugs through his grin. ]
You're probably right.
[ Carpet meanders through the air while Kalim picks his way up to (what he assumes is) the stage. ]
So! How do we do a fire show?
no subject
I have a few ideas.
[Because of course Kalim didn't get as far as what the fire show was going to be, and Jamil sighs, and if that sigh almost sounds like a fond huff that's just the fickle desert tradewinds throwing off noises.]
I saw a video of a dance that could be considered a fire show. The dancers had fans and- showing you would be easier.
[He pulls out his phone, joining Kalim on the stage. Please excuse the technical difficulties as he tries to get a signal. Reception can kind of suck in the Scarabian desert.
While they wait for it to load, though:]
Whomever put these ruins here might have had something from home in mind when they made them. So, even if these ruins came...well, ruined, they might have an original and the original might have had a purpose.
[Because Kalim dropping it bothered him, okay? And there's nothing else to do while waiting for things to load.]
no subject
[ Kalim is hopping onto likely-looking floor tiles anyway. ]
You have terrible reception out here.
[ While they're pointing out the obvious, might as well throw that one out there. Why is Kalim pulling his own phone out to check his reception? They're on the same plan, it's not like his signal will magically be better. ]
Wow, this really is the middle of nowhere, huh? Do you think you're going to have any luck loading that?
[ That is an extraordinarily polite way of expressing doubt, in case Jamil was having any difficulty reading it as such. ]
Why don't you show me instead? We've both done enough dance and choreo! I'll pick it up in no time!
no subject
Or to put it another way, if this was a fake tomb, were there...fake bones buried deep within this fake tomb?]
...
[Yeah, okay, he's not going to think about that.]
Me showing you would require me knowing how to do the dance in the first place. I only watched a video a few times.
[He says, while putting away his phone and looking around for- ah. Well. Sticks aren't exactly the most glamorous replacement for fans on fire, but they're in the middle of nowhere and don't have much besides their magical pens, and their dorm uniforms, and Carpet to work with.]
The idea is that we'd be dancing while holding something on fire. I've seen dancers with fans, knives, or a version in which the dancers hold a-
[Fuck, he's blanking on the name of the...things. Fire thing on fire attached to chain that person holds things.]
Lanterns on fire, I suppose, connected by chains - the dancer holds the chain and spins the lantern around them. [Not knowing the name of it is going to bother him, because he's supposed to provide excellence and yet here he is, badly describing the thing.] You know the thing I'm talking about, correct? Well, it probably doesn't matter if you don't, as fans would be the easiest for us to manage given the circumstances.
no subject
[ Kalim's many siblings have just as many hobbies. He can only summon the term from his recollection by virtue of how often he'd whacked himself in the face when his sister tried to teach him. Thankfully, the things weren't on fire at the time, or he might be a tad less good-natured about it. Maybe. His penchant for forgiveness is seemingly limitless. ]
Let's not do the poi one. But flaming swords sounds fun! We don't even need a video for that. We can just choreograph it ourselves and set the swords on fire when we've got it worked out.
I'm excited! I didn't think we'd get to dance together tonight! This was a great idea, Jamil!
no subject
Of course. Did you really think I would come out into the middle of the desert with you if I couldn't think of a way for us to dance together?
[All of this was said with the airy self confidence of a boy who didn't accidentally reveal that he might have maybe kind of wanted to possibly dance with Kalim and explicitly went out into the middle of nowhere with him just to maybe be alone with him for a while, and also with the breezy self confidence of a boy who wasn't turning away to find more sticks to use as 'swords' so Kalim couldn't see the ever so slight blush which may or may not exist on his face. But Jamil could feel it. Even if he wasn't actually flushed, he could feel himself wanting to blush, and Schrodinger's Blush was worse than actually knowing he was blushing.
So, instead, a distraction.]
If this is a replica of a tomb, how much do you think they took the time to copy?
no subject
He'd probably have an answer for Jamil's second question, if the first hadn't shorted out his brain altogether. It's not what Jamil meant, he knows. It can't be. But he's making it sound like the sole purpose of this outing was -- truly -- to dance with one another. And as soon as the suggestion is made, Kalim is envisioning it; spinning one another around his stage, kicking up sand in their path like a pair of dervishes, changing the lead every other turn, and drawing closer, closer, closer--
Replica of a tomb. Right. Get it together, Kalim! ]
I must've stepped on at least half these tiles, and I haven't triggered a trap or a door. So probably not much! Unless the entrance is somewhere else? Mm... Where do they usually put tomb doors?
[ Kalim squints up at the stars. ]
Jamil, have we ever even been to a tomb?
no subject
Not really?
[He turns, and offers the large stick for Kalim's consideration. Decently sword-like? No? The balance is wrong but they still need things of the right length to practice with.]
I think we've been to a tomb once or twice, but it isn't as if there was any reason for us to linger near one. As kids, there were always better places for us to play.
no subject
[ There must have been other ruins they played around as well, but there was never much reason for them to leave the house outside of special occasions. It truly would have been few and far between; even less reason for Kalim to remember them. (And it's natural to second-guess gaps in his own recollection after the ordeal over winter break, but the less said of that, the better.)
Kalim takes the stick and turns it over in his hand a few times, gauging the weight. It doesn't feel like a sword at all. They've practiced sword fighting, mostly out of formality, and even their wooden practice swords were more expertly balanced than this. But beggars can't be choosy. ]
Are we actually sparring with the swords, or are they more like props?
no subject
Still, there was only one answer to that.]
Props.
[Obviously, and in case Kalim didn't get why?]
They'll be on fire, otherwise this won't be much of a fire show. I'm not letting you hit me with anything on fire, nor am I going to try hitting you with something on fire while hoping you dodge like we practiced.
no subject
[ And yet-- ]
But Mirah told me that if you're practicing good fire safety, it won't matter too too much if the flame touches you for a moment. So don't worry too much! Plus, if one of us catches fire, I can put us out.
[ But an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of whatever, so Kalim twirls his stick at his side -- wide circles with a twist of his wrist -- while he mentally paces out some choreo. ]
We need music! You pick something, please.
no subject
He settles on some inoffensive Bollywoodesque dance music with an inoffensive beat, something neutral that...doesn't say much about who Jamil is as a person, something easy to choreograph to, and easy to switch out.]
There. [Nice and neutral and plain. Average.]
no subject
[ Inoffensive, sure, if one neglects to consider the context of the film scene it's taken from. It was a popular film a few years ago in the Sands, and this was the climax. The leading man confesses his love to the heroine in the middle of a crowded shopping plaza, so of course it inspired a slew of flash mobs, and the choreo was easy enough to follow.
For a moment, Kalim forgets about the fire show (and the stick in his hand). ]
Do you remember all those Magicam clips of people dancing to it in the Camel Bazaar?
[ Kalim shuffles through the first few steps of the choreo. ]
And then it was like--
[ Kalim sidles up to slip an arm around Jamil's waist. Absolutely not intentional; he's only emulating the film. Ahem. ]
Right?
no subject
[And not by choice. He was just there, it happened, he got swept up into it.
Jamil also might be continuing the choreo, dancing the heroine's part, because, unfortunately, his relationship to Kalim is such that Kalim could start dancing a tango, a square dance, a waltz, and he's compelled to dance with him. This is more of the same.
...don't ask him how he knows the part or why he's going along with it in general or why he's not flipping the script or why he's not forcing them into something else just yet. The second Kalim falters, he will. Until then, they're dancing this stupid scene the whole way through.]
I once had a nightmare about this scene. Or, rather, the flash mobs that came about because of this scene. We were in the Camel Bazaar, shopping for some fruit. The vendors started dancing, then, the tourists started dancing, one thing led to another, and I had to take you and dive into one of the canals to escape. Downright silly.
If that really had happened you'd just get them all to dance with you, one way or another.
no subject
Everyone would have to join in! There'd be no escape for anyone, not even you.
[ It doesn't sound like a threat. Not when Kalim has his hand on Jamil's lower back through a twirl, and certainly not when he leans into a small dip. One they quickly come out of in favor of a shuffle.
It's easy to focus on the choreography, easier still to laugh about what Jamil calls a nightmare and Kalim calls a dream. Better than focusing on how sweetly the warmth blooms in his chest when they touch, or how expertly they move around each other -- with each other -- the boon of a lifetime of dancing hand in hand and knowing one another like no one else ever will. Dancing comes to them as naturally as breathing, and it's the one time when everything feels right, no matter what else is transpiring outside of whatever they've chosen as their dancefloor. ]
We should do this every night! We used to. Why don't we anymore?
no subject
But...Kalim knew those now, at least he hoped. Kalim seemed to know. There was no reason to rub his nose in those truths unless he wanted to be cruel, and, as Kalim had yet to falter, Jamil didn't feel like being cruel. No. As long as Kalim was steadfast and moved with conviction, he'd be steadfast with him.
Jamil felt like being honest.
So, he rolled around the question in his head as they danced like they knew each other, truly understood each other, Kalim's hand right where it was supposed to be when the music demanded it, Jamil twisting to meet Kalim's footsteps, and finally came at the most basic, elemental, blunt truth, something even Kalim couldn't deny.]
We get a lot of homework.
[And other types of work too, but mostly the homework and surprise exams are a big deal, and those cut into dancing hours.
What.
Look, it's the most elemental, undeniable truth that won't destroy the mood, okay.]
no subject
Is that why! What a tricky way to get me to study.
[ The song winds down to the finale, a few dramatic turns, arms wound tighter and tighter around one another while Kalim's hands slide up to Jamil's shoulders. This scene won some kind of teen choice award for best kiss, and Kalim does remember that. Vaguely. But it's nestled so comfortably in the back of his mind, it doesn't even occur to him until their foreheads are pressed together, and then--
Then the song ends. And Kalim is frozen, so close he can taste Jamil's breath on his lips. It's a razor's edge, this thread of tension thrumming between them; the slightest shift could cut them to the quick, or else send them falling. For the life of him, Kalim can't imagine which he'd rather. ]
We didn't choreograph anything at all, did we?
no subject
They danced, they drew closer and closer together, Kalim's hands sliding up to his shoulders, foreheads pressed together, he could almost taste Kalim's breath on his lips, and then-
And then Kalim faltered, in the end.
Jamil smiles, one of those merciless ones that- no, not like that. Not cruel, not exactly, but Kalim faltered, which meant that it was his turn to take the lead and make Kalim fight for it.]
You didn't forget how this dance ended, did you?
[Here he is, ignoring the question about choreography.]
I didn't.
no subject
[ But Jamil has to be the one to do it. Jamil has to initiate. It still feels wrong otherwise, like Kalim is taking advantage of something that Jamil never wanted in the first place. Again.
There are no crickets in the Scalding Sands. At night, it's startlingly quiet; only whistling wind and a gentle rustle of the shifting sand. Quiet. Serene, in a way. But that's why this silence between them seems to stretch on for ages. And here, again, Kalim is confronted by an unfortunate truth about himself:
He's not fearless. He's not careless. What he fears and cares about -- above all else -- is never doing anything to drive Jamil away again. And yet here's the sinking suspicion that he's building a wall between them through inaction instead.
Kalim's hands are soft, smooth as the silks that clothe him, and when he reaches up to stroke Jamil's cheek -- fingertips playing across his cheek bone, thumbpad brushing over his lips -- Jamil might catch the faint scent of jasmine between them. ]
Maybe you'd better finish it off.
no subject
Jamil smells jasmine. He brushes a bit of hair from Kalim's forehead - it isn't as if he has much of anything to brush away, it's touching for the sake of touching. The night is still, and they've never done anything right, ever, not unless-
-and he takes Kalim's hand and pulls him into another dance, a simple box-step waltz, at least at first, him counting out the steps until Kalim knows well enough to follow as there's no music, just instinct and Jamil's voice, counting-]
One, two three, one, two, three-
[And once he's confident in Kalim following his lead.]
I think you forgot. I only remembered because Najma was excited when it that one award. Some teen's choice award?
no subject
[ Kalim doesn't falter though. He's every bit as willing to follow as he is to lead, and just as adept. Leading, following; they each fall into step just as well, as long as they're dancing with one another. It never seems to come as naturally with anyone else. And given that Jamil snatched the lead up as quickly as Kalim dropped it? That says something too. Something about balance, two halves of a whole, completeness...
There's no attempt made to make headway toward their actual objective, and Jamil doesn't seem to care. Which is good. Unusual, but good. Kalim can't quite wrap his head around why that may be, because assuming that Jamil simply wants to dance with him is too good to be true.
So it's easier to focus on the rhythm, on Jamil's voice. One-two, three. Easier to focus on his the arm around his waist and the hand in his hand. Easier to believe this is practice. One-two, three. Because that's all it's ever been to Jamil, isn't it? Not leisure. Not pleasure.
Kalim doesn't try to take back the lead. But he adjusts his footwork to wind them closer. Waltzing is too far a distance when they'd been a breath away from kissing only moments ago, and Kalim can't bear it. ]
I bet we could give them a run for their money.
no subject
[Oh, Jamil says, in a sharper, more...interested way, in the same way that a predator might be interested in noticing that his prey had just let down his guard and seemed to be in no hurry to raise it again. That sort of interest. If he was a beastman, something canine or feline, perhaps, his ears would be pricked forward, interested, focused.
Jamil's a human, not a beastman: his ears remained where they were. He just politely waltzed, letting Kalim pull closer, leading them through turns as they danced.]
Maybe you're right. [Hmm. Look at him thoughtfully thinking about this, hmmmmm.] That said, I don't particularly remember the specifics; I remember the dance, and I remember some of the songs, and I remember Najma talking to me about the movie. If you want us to do better, Kalim, you'll have to refresh me on what happened. What was their kiss like?
no subject
[ That's the thing about cinematic kisses. They're for entertainment. They lack sincerity. ]
But the actors had good chemistry. Their characters were written really well, so you were rooting for them the entire film. So I think it was more about that, you know? It was the payoff of a really satisfying lead-up.
[ One-two, three. Maybe they'd already outlived the climax of their story, though. This has all been so alien since Jamil's overblot. Hot and cold, shades of grey that never existed before. Kalim is familiar with some parts, and others are strange to him. One-two, three.
Case in point, Kalim can't wrap his head around why Jamil is asking. Sometimes he just can't read between the lines. What was their kiss like? Why does he want to know? ]
But at the end of the song, he lifted her up. He was holding her legs so that her head was a little higher than his, and then she leaned down to kiss him while he still held her. And there were flower petals everywhere.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)