Rainbow Resin
Sometimes it feels truly impossible to distinguish the objective shapes of his feelings. Minoth has always known himself to be a person, a Blade, of just such deep feeling, so it shouldn't exactly cause him great perturbation to find the edges between one facet or another, internal or external, perceived or percepted, blurring, blurring, blurred.
But what is it about Addam?
Addam is kind, generous, funny and a little pathetic; well-meaning, self-critical; errs towards people-pleaser rather than people-user (and if someone needs to veer in the other direction, Minoth can); emotes with gusto and genuinity, and knows the value of hard work, or at least the value of that knowledge, in continuous attempt toward humility.
And to top it all off, as appropriate for a prince, he's very handsome.
Yes, distractingly so. Yes, effortlessly so. Yes, classically so.
Minoth would prefer to make a constructive union of these more or less disparate aspects, rather than wasting his energy lamenting the fact that he does, in fact, find Addam so attractive. That is to say, if he is indeed capable of enumerating Addam's other, nominally invisible meritorious qualities, why not accept the obvious? Why not incorporate that observation into his all-admiring-adoring belief system?
But what to do about it?
Rumination is all well and good (which is to say, it's bad), but sometimes you just have to do to get on with it.
Only one problem about flirting with Addam: despite all proclamations to the contrary of awareness, he's famously oblivious.
If flirting is a science, Minoth is screwed, because he's no scientist, and he has a vested fear of turning into one. A scientist, he figures, doesn't do what feels right, but instead prescribes a pattern to follow, and then does so, iteratively improving with each experiment thereafter. An artist...just doesn't think about it so much.
So that's the key, eh? Just don't think about it. Don't decide when to strike, just wait until it feels right.
Turns out, waiting for the perfect opportunity is agonizing.
It's not that Minoth fears losing out to someone else, because Hugo has more or less solidified himself as Addam's actually beloved younger brother (none of them would be appalled if things turned out differently, but brothers in arms they are and will stay), none of the girls are interested in guys, and Jin and Aegaeon aren't really interested in anyone.
Oh, woe to Minoth. He's the only one of his kind cursed with that horrible, embarrassing affliction known as a sexuality.
Excepting Addam...? Well, he can pray. The clues are there, for a lean.
Minoth can envision the two of them together with an ease that frightens him. Speaking openly - to each other - of their trust, exchanging respectful touches, sharing provisions with each other and laughing about it. That vision replaces any coherent thought about the mechanism by which to procure it because Minoth hates being corny. Really, he'd like to come off as attractive, himself.
But it has to be right.
"Now this is what it means to be alive," says Addam. Thinks Minoth, you're sure this is the first time you've seen something so grand?
But it's too self-aggrandizing. Too bold. It'll never work.
"Always happy to put a smile on people's faces," says Addam. Thinks Minoth, and that's only what you can see when they're looking at you!
But it's too antagonistic. Too risky. It'll never work.
"Proves I've got what it takes to work the land," says Addam. Thinks Minoth, I'd like to join you someday - fancy proving something together?
But it's too vague-unshrouded. Too real. It'll never work.
So on, so forth. No comebacks inspired enough to work. No prompts singular enough to make such a response not look out of place.
It all has to fall into place. They have to be right for each other, or they're not.
And obviously the only way to orchestrate such a rightness is to have it be perfect, from the very start. Obviously that's the foundation to all strong, weathering relationships. A meet-cute with rousing, dashing intent, foolproof and fully revised.
But that's the science, isn't it? Not Minoth's approach, not in the least. He'll just keep waiting. Eventually, Addam will drop the divine cue, and Minoth will answer in perfect time without even thinking about it. No science at all, except neural fire.
Minoth never stops to consider that it might be Addam who one day approaches him, heart in-hand, but...well, that's a story for another time.
"Ah, my favorite part."
Addam is heaving open a treasure chest Minoth had unearthed, with Jin's help, now that the Blades have stood back to wipe their brows (Minoth) and brood their exertions (Jin). His shoulders strain with the effort, muscles rippling, et cetera, crafty glow active and burning.
Minoth could go forever just watching Addam do anything, really (though the jury's still out on, say, naked crouching - who knows?) and yet it's moments like these that drive him round. So close. So close! Imagine if they were doing it together. What's stopping him, them?
(Indeed, a story for another time.)
"Looks pretty good from back here, too," Minoth offers, senselessly. Did Addam say anything about looks, or relative positions? Did Addam make a statement that begged others' opinions?
Addam turns, and the shoulder muscles flex and settle. "Your what?"
His what? Minoth hadn't spoken of anything his. Neither had he referred to a loyalty-sworn prince, so...bets?
"You need help, with that?"
Oh, botching, botching, botched. Good thing Jin's removed himself from the site with all haste.
"No..." replies Addam carefully. He's still down on his haunches, but has fully rotated away from the chest, which gleams a vibrant loneliness. What symbolism, yonder dune?
Minoth doesn't say anything. His brain has, perhaps, caught up with him.
"Did you want to say something to me?"
"No," lies Minoth. "I mean, yes."
Addam smiles gently, handsomely. As he always does (no he doesn't).
"How about this?
"My favorite part is you."