[ Mako knows that, he knows Mako does. Mako didn't like him before, either. Wu didn't like himself, really at all. He didn't think much of himself, and that was really the problem, with all of it.
[ Mako mutters, his shoulders and his jaw going tight all at once, like he's ready for a blow. It smells like ginger and garlic and the scent is an attack, curling into his nose, like the kitchen from home. His mom would make this sauce for hours, enough to last them nearly the year once the holidays were over. In retrospect, it was when they made most of their money, so they must have bought a lot of food all at once, preserved it for the leaner times. Mako never got to ask. Would he have taken over if he'd grown up with them? Learned to run a business instead of Triple Threat numbers?
Would he have stayed with Beifong if he'd stayed home, worked his way up to chief? Would he and Wu have been anything long-term, would he have stayed hard and strong and unbreakable, not the soft thing he is now? ]
[ That hurts, and Wu knows this isn't about him, but it still hurts. It hurts because Mako has been distant for weeks, because Mako is letting himself get hurt by his own neglect, because Wu hasn't done enough, hasn't help him, thought that Mako could sort this out for himself when clearly he can't, clearly he needs help and Wu said he would help and he let it get this bad, and Mako
Mako thinks that Wu doesn't know him. But Wu feels a certainty in his gut that he does. He knows who Mako is. He knows the core of him, even if everything else is changing. Even if Mako is growing, he's still Mako, he's still the brave, strong, handsome, thoughtful, hard working man that Wu met all those years ago, who he fell in love with without really meaning to, who he can't imagine his life without. ]
Yes, I do.
[ His voice is soft, barely audible, when he says it. He doesn't move away, stroking Mako's cheek. ]
Maybe not all of you, maybe not, not who you're going to become, but I know you. I love you. Yes, you're different, but you're still you.
It's almost a relief to hear outside his own head. Mako knows he's changing, knows that things are shifting inside him as fast as the ground beneath his feet. He doesn't know what to do with those changes, where to put them, whether to keep them. He's opening up, and that's terrifying: every step he takes into a world where he tells people the things he's feeling is one that exposes him just a little more to getting hurt and turning jaded and sad like the people who have been here for a long time. He thought he was the kind of person who could just accept the present, who wasn't sentimental enough to hold onto the pointless past but here he is, trying to grasp at the straws of it.
What does it mean, his mind keeps asking. Is it okay? Am I okay?
It isn't a new question. ]
I don't know if that's true. I just... I don't know.
That's okay. [ Wu says it quietly, staying close, watching him with soft eyes. His annoyance is gone, now, replaced by just wanting Mako to be okay, wanting him to be able to sleep and go about his day without the threat of burning up into nothing ] You don't have to know. And before you say anything-- I know you hate that. I know you hate not knowing stuff, but it's really okay. We can figure it out, it just, it's not going to happen all at once.
[ He knows that, because it happened to him, too. He was so unsure of himself, so scared that he was different, tried so hard to shape who he wanted to be, only to become someone else entirely. It's terrifying, but he can help Mako, he thinks. He can help him.
[ To bed. It takes a moment for the words to filter through the fog. The air thick and strange and unfamiliar, and Mako shifts slightly, glancing around at the mess. ]
[ Mako almost protests. He resists for a moment, making Wu pull harder, sure that if he leaves he's never going to get the recipe at all and that they're just going to wake up to a horrible mess, but it's like Wu's words flip a switch in him. Exhaustion washes over him in a cold wave a moment later, and Mako lets out a slow breath and relents, letting himself be pulled away from ginger and soy sauce and tamarind, up toward their room. ]
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no subject
[ Mako knows that, he knows Mako does. Mako didn't like him before, either. Wu didn't like himself, really at all. He didn't think much of himself, and that was really the problem, with all of it.
He gently brushes Mako's cheek ]
I like who you are.
no subject
[ Mako mutters, his shoulders and his jaw going tight all at once, like he's ready for a blow. It smells like ginger and garlic and the scent is an attack, curling into his nose, like the kitchen from home. His mom would make this sauce for hours, enough to last them nearly the year once the holidays were over. In retrospect, it was when they made most of their money, so they must have bought a lot of food all at once, preserved it for the leaner times. Mako never got to ask. Would he have taken over if he'd grown up with them? Learned to run a business instead of Triple Threat numbers?
Would he have stayed with Beifong if he'd stayed home, worked his way up to chief? Would he and Wu have been anything long-term, would he have stayed hard and strong and unbreakable, not the soft thing he is now? ]
no subject
Mako thinks that Wu doesn't know him. But Wu feels a certainty in his gut that he does. He knows who Mako is. He knows the core of him, even if everything else is changing. Even if Mako is growing, he's still Mako, he's still the brave, strong, handsome, thoughtful, hard working man that Wu met all those years ago, who he fell in love with without really meaning to, who he can't imagine his life without. ]
Yes, I do.
[ His voice is soft, barely audible, when he says it. He doesn't move away, stroking Mako's cheek. ]
Maybe not all of you, maybe not, not who you're going to become, but I know you. I love you. Yes, you're different, but you're still you.
no subject
It's almost a relief to hear outside his own head. Mako knows he's changing, knows that things are shifting inside him as fast as the ground beneath his feet. He doesn't know what to do with those changes, where to put them, whether to keep them. He's opening up, and that's terrifying: every step he takes into a world where he tells people the things he's feeling is one that exposes him just a little more to getting hurt and turning jaded and sad like the people who have been here for a long time. He thought he was the kind of person who could just accept the present, who wasn't sentimental enough to hold onto the pointless past but here he is, trying to grasp at the straws of it.
What does it mean, his mind keeps asking. Is it okay? Am I okay?
It isn't a new question. ]
I don't know if that's true. I just... I don't know.
no subject
[ He knows that, because it happened to him, too. He was so unsure of himself, so scared that he was different, tried so hard to shape who he wanted to be, only to become someone else entirely. It's terrifying, but he can help Mako, he thinks. He can help him.
Carefully, he leans in to kiss Mako's cheek ]
Can you come to bed?
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I should... clean up. First.
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We can clean in the morning. Okay? You need some sleep, then we can, we can talk more.
[ He really just wants Mako to rest, to have some distance from his sauce project, before they have to tackle anything more ]
no subject