Work Text:
He always hated these damn things.
Teteponie was a drab place with drab people to match. Everything was utterly efficient with no care for appearance. Offices were tall, dark buildings with no texture. Windows had no sills. It was near impossible to tell one place apart from another if you didn't have a guide, seeing as it was all the same material and colour. The weather was average, the sky was always some gloomy grey, and he couldn't recall the last smile he'd seen. Of course, the parties were matching. Talk was sparse---save for a handshake and request.
There was no need for niceties in Teteponie, and in suit, no appearance of them. Everyone was utterly blank. Blunt, as well. It drove Suit up the wall each time he had to show up. His goal was to be in and out as soon as possible, but unfortunately, it was more lively than usual. Great! He'd gotten just what he asked for. And he hated it. Christ, it was like these people never laughed before!
Each second in there was grating on his ears. A few older Teteponians had greeted him; still gross as ever. Trying to choose between looking at their false eyes or antennae eyes was nauseating. Their... "hair" fell to the floor as they'd guide him to the bar or a new face, and he was very much expected to avoid it, or he'd be shunned and lose his greatest suppliers. The few younger faces were trying far too hard to get on his good side, and instead souring his mood further. They'd implore him about his day, he'd give something sparse, the conversation would fade, they'd try again with another topic... Not one could get the hint. He gave one a piece of advice: if someone doesn't ask it back, they don't wanna hear it. Contrary to what he'd expected the first few times he came, being so straightforward wasn't any weight off his shoulders. Maybe a drink would shake it.
The bar was nice, he had to admit. It was the one redeeming part of Teteponie, they had something that worked on Infectors. Infected? He shook the thought off. It didn't matter. He twirled his 5th or 6th glass, aimlessly staring at the way the light refracted through the thicker glass on the bottom. Each time someone nudged him for conversation, he'd have to drag himself to the present. He let his face drop, blanker than they were. His tired eyes would leave an impression of absence. He'd try, half-assed, to stay, but would ultimately drift back to that state of lost thought. Each one was passing and forgotten just as quick as it came. The time seemed to go somehow slower once he locked his mind off. As it continued longer than he thought it would, some thoughts seemed to manifest. Now completely blank, he'd stare off into the crowd during the sparse conversations. Something had caught his eye, though. He thought he was seeing things. Hearing, too. Maybe his work ethic finally caught up to him.
He couldn't quite place the voice, not completely, but the sight was unmistakable. It certainly wasn't unusual to see Lineans in Teteponie---the miserable bastards that gave everyone here a run for their miserable money---but the colours and contours caught his eye. Almost cloud-like, with darker bits sprinkled in. Blue if he squinted through the dim lights.
He got up in the other direction as quickly as possible, and said some short passing to the nearest person with authority. Just a quick smoke in the stairwell was all. To get his mind running right again.
The wind wouldn't let up as he fiddled with the lighter. He tried to rationalize said wind--- it was always like that in Teteponie. There's so many bodies of water, it's windy all over. Never at storm levels, sure, but maybe it was just a bad night. If that party was anything to go off of, it was one hell of a bad night. Someone must've slipped something into his drink, or decided to play some practical joke, or it was a perfectly regular coincidence. He flicked at the spark wheel of the near empty lighter a few more times, holding his hand in front of it to block the wind. It was just some coincidence.
His light finally stayed. Smoke slowly billowed off the cigarette and into the unpredictable wind, stable and shaky, fast and slow. He took a drag. He stared at the sky as he leaned back on the stairs, propping his arms onto his bent knees. Looked like it was clearing up finally. The skies out here were better than the ones on earth, there were so many more stars. Continuing to stare, the thoughts holding him down drifted off with the clouds. One passed him by on the stairwell.
It was undeniable. He couldn't stop himself from calling out---though he was certain the man died through his own mistake. He'd watched it, just as he watched a tall, blue-suited, white-cloud haired Linean pass him by. His own voice surprised himself just as much as the other.
"Dyaus...?"
The man stopped. Time seemed to stop with him on that final step of the stairwell. No ships passed, no people, and the sky was clearer than ever before. As his linework turned, his eyes bore into Suit's. "Daffodil." He fully turned, now making his way back up to Suit with a grin. "Close guess though, huh?" He stuck out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
Suit stared for a moment, eyes wide. He looked at the hand and the face holding it out---the only difference from his expectation being the eyes and facial hair. He chuckled a bit. He took Daffodil's hand, shaking it slowly and lightly, taking note of how Daffodil let him lead yet still held a firm hand. "Sorry for that, Mr...?"
"Vale."
Suit's smile grew. The wind picked up a bit. "Vale... Mr. Vale, I really must apologize for my demeanour."
"An honest mistake is nothing to apologize for, Sir." He punctuated the statement with a hand on Suit's shoulder. Strong, but comfortable. Familiar. A pleasant breeze accompanied it, brushing back the few strands he'd let fall during his drinks. He stammered a bit, struggling to get out a 'thanks' through what felt like all the alcohol hitting him at once. His face felt warm.
Vale stayed for a while by Suit's request. Their conversation was far more intriguing than anything happening inside, though Suit would still find himself drifting off at times. Not out of lack of interest, far from it, in fact. He'd find his gaze lingering on the folds of the other man's outfit, how he'd gesture with his hands, his hands... how he'd wait before his next word with a smirk when Suit's attention would stray. He couldn't quite recall the last time he felt this way. Maybe two decades? It didn't worry him much, and when it did, he'd be swept up by another of Vale's remarks. His voice was low and quiet, forcing Suit to lean in as he talked. He'd control his volume decisively, reeling him to and back with meaning. He'd stabilize Suit's drunken sway when need-be. He'd prop his arm on the step behind them and look into his eyes as he spoke with such intent that Suit almost believed he'd see into his mind.
Their conversation was mostly of work. Vale would lament about his job as a weatherman, how his feats in life were being misused. He'd tried and applied for the Intergalactic Peace Keeping Committee, but with how things were looking, it must have gotten lost in the mail. A shame, he'd repine, because it would be much more fulfilling work. Suit would reply dismissive but desperate, admitting it wasn't always the greatest, but a secretary position had been wide-open for some time now. It wasn't easy work, lots of talking, but to him Vale seemed like quite the talker. There were plenty of small, sly compliments hidden throughout their talk, no matter the topic. Teteponie---at least, this stairwell---seemed far less miserable than usual. Normally talking to someone at these parties came with a fake smile to match the fake enjoyment, but there was nothing fake with Suit in the moment.
The rain began to start up again. Suit, with his guard utterly down, complained. Just as he did, it went away. He stared at Vale.
"Well, that'll have to be my final act for the night," he remarked, standing up. "Our talk was a delight. When will I see you again, Mr...?"
"Please, Vale," Suit began, taking Daffodil's hand in his own. "We're friends."
He brought the hand up to his mouth, and placed a kiss.
"Call me John."
It seemed to finally rupture Vale's confidence. It was cute, Suit thought. Vale quickly composed himself, formed a better goodbye, and walked off. Suit went back in and asked the same Teteponian he'd warned of his break about Vale. They looked confused for a moment, but perked up, and their speech dripped with malice. Oh, yes, the Messenger? Fah, his Ialden niceties got him nowhere tonight. He left early. I pray you didn't encounter him.
Suit told them the gist of what had happened in that stairwell, leaving out the loudest factor. He left it at the fact of his hiring. The alien made no effort to hide their confused expression, but shrugged it off. They wished him goodnight. He headed back to where he'd parked. Turning the ignition, his hands simply rested and relaxed on the steering wheel as he stared into the sky again. It was windy. He felt this was the one Teteponie party he walked out of without seething with rage.
And somewhere, in a damp Teteponie alleyway, Daffodil Vale was hitting his head while waiting for Collette.