The Courtyard [closed]

Hard to believe it was December with such a warm sun beating down on the nape of his neck and shoulders. He sat hunched on a bench in the courtyard, his body bent over a pristine notebook in his lap, a shitty crayon drawing of the Shoestring Acacia that weeped close to the basketball court smudged messily on the page. Drawing was not a strong point but it was almost fun. Definitely challenging.

The back of his hand swiped across his brow, taking sweat and dirt with it that were deposited again on the fabric of the standard issue, mint colored scrub pants he wore. A waxy red MP was signed at the bottom of the render before he leaned back and stretched his arms overhead. The sun hit his face and neck, illuminating the nasty scars that lived nestled under his jaw. Typically he tried his best to hide them or not draw attention to them, but out here in the open with nobody around he felt more free to simply be who he was. He was certainly a child of the outdoors. His body slumped down on the bench as he closed his eyes and soaked up as much UV light as he could, feeling rather accomplished in the early afternoon.

It was way too hot to be this late in the year, and I was pretty sure everyone was feeling it. It almost seemed like there were less and less people outside, more hiding in the air-conditioned rooms and being, in general, pretty antisocial. It had been way too long since I had been out and about, though, so now that I was here I was going to make use of the time outdoors.

I shielded my eyes and looked around, about to head toward the basketball courts before I noticed someone... drawing? I thought I was the only person that was up to art here. Hm. I walked over and behind the other, glancing at the page and then up at the tree he was doodling.

"... Would you rather have a pencil?" I asked, brow quirked. It was easier to draw with a pencil than with crayons any day, and I had a spare as I'd asked for extra.

Matthew's back stiffened, his shoulders squared and his eyes flew up all in the same instant. He'd been too preoccupied to notice the other slipping up behind him. That was dangerous. Not just for him but also for his visitor. His face swiveled around slowly taking careful measurements of the other that started at his feet and made it all the way up to the face.

Asian. His lips pursed ever so slightly in disapproval before his dimples deepened and his eyes nearly disappeared with a smile. A pencil huh? That might be good to stash away. His violent nature had been the reason Dr. Gives Light only gave him blunt crayons but the newcomer didn't need to know that.

"Hey. A pencil would be great," he expressed, shifting on the bench to make room in case the other male wanted to sit.

I knew that posture. Maybe sneaking up behind had been a mistake. Still it seemed like he relaxed a bit after a moment so I was just hoping it would stay that way. I narrowed my eyes just a bit before pulling the pencil out of my pocket, handing it - albeit hesitantly - to the man in front of me.

"My name is Jiho," I said, offering a smile to him but remaining standing. I didn't feel like sitting now - I just kind of felt preoccupied, so I wanted to keep myself up. Absently I looked back down at the paper, lips pursed.

"Are you just practicing?" I asked, pushing my hair back. "You want pointers?"

I would give this one a chance - until I knew for sure if he was sane or not, I'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

He might have taken that pencil a little too greedily. It was more blunt than he would have liked it but he could make due with it; it'd still slide easily into the soft tissue of an eyeball. He smiled again and nodded his thanks, hopefully his natural charm would overpower his current eerie behavior. Matthew's issued scrubs didn't have any pockets so he simply held the pencil tightly without any inclination of actually using it on his scribble.

Blue eyes flicked to his weeping tree before settling back on... Jiho. Jiho... what kind of name was that? Was he a ninja or something? "I'm Matthew, nice to meet you." Sort of. He wouldn't offer his hand but spoke in a friendly manner. "Not really practicing, I guess. I have no talent for this but I think I'm supposed to be drawing my feelings or some shit. It takes up time out of my day and they'll let me stay outside for a while so why not?" He chuckled a bit, scrubbing at the back of his neck.

"I think you'd have your work cut out for you. I'm not sure any amount of helpful hints could make me draw better."

Let him stay outside for a while? What was that supposed to mean? The way he was acting struck me as odd, even the way he was just holding the pencil was... just odd. Maybe I shouldn't have given him that... But it would be a shame to deprive someone of something I already handed over, and judging by some of the people locked in this place, taking it back might do more harm than good.

Matthew was a nice, easy name. I could remember Matthew. I looked him over for a quick moment, making sure I could keep face to name before shaking my head at him. "You underestimate my abilities," I joked, pointing at the arch of the branches. "The way you drew them is so rigid it makes it look lifeless. Gotta flow with the wind, give it a little movement." Once again I glanced at him, smirking a bit. "They made me 'draw out my feelings', too. I understand."

Chuckling softly, I decided against asking why the other man was here. Unlike Kyo, my trust didn't immediately fall into place with Matthew.

"Lifeless? The trees are fucking bare... of course they're lifeless," his brows furrowed a bit, not quite understanding what the other way implying. He re-traced a few branches but certainly didn't get it.

As for the reasons they ended up in this place, Matthew didn't have a problem asking. "What kind of feelings landed you here then?" he uttered while handing over his paper and a crayon, offering Jiho to demonstrate what he was saying. The pencil would stay with him, though, that was his now.

Assuming Jiho were up to the task and would be preoccupied, Matthew took the next few moments to make some assumptions about his company. He took in the dyed blonde hair - either to look cool or to look white. Either reason irked him a bit. He could tell they were very close in height but Matthew definitely outweighed him, his shoulders were broader, his muscles thicker. He shouldn't have to worry too much in a fistfight. Jiho's hands were also watched, the way he held the crayon was of particular interest. Unfortunately those hands told him nothing.

A pink tongue swiped across his lips, "How long have you been here?"

"There's a big difference between bare and lifeless," I mumbled, frowning at the crayon but taking it anyway. I glanced up, taking the lines of the tree in before sketching out the edges of the branches and some of the bark. The tree might be bare but it certainly wasn't dead.

I heard his question and sighed, brow twitching in slight irritation as I answered this question yet again. "I kicked some guy's ass because he was being an asshole and might have beat a cop on the way out, I guess. I don't really remember. He had it coming," I replied, shaking my head. I still didn't feel bad about the whole ordeal. Throughout the whole explanation I kept drawing, shoulders slouched casually as I sketched.

It was when I felt eyes on me that I looked up, catching the other man licking his lips and glancing down for a second. Distractions, I swear to god. Clearing my throat, I looked up from his mouth when he spoke and shrugged.

"A few weeks, I guess?" I answered, handing him the notebook and showing him the doodle. I was proud of it for doing it in such a short amount of time - art was probably the one thing I took seriously.

"You kicked some guy's ass and don't remember? What a terrible problem. I, personally like to remember my victories." Matthew smiled brightly, his grin lopsided and handsome. He took the notebook back and nonchalantly wiped off the area Jiho had touched his the hem of his shirt. The specific crayon Jiho used was also discarded onto the ground, but the actual doodle was held in high regard. Matthew whistled his approval.

"So you're new too, huh? Well, maybe I can coax you into always doing my homework for me?" Taking another crayon he unapologetically forged his own name to Jiho's work with a toothy grin. There was no need to ask if it was alright, surely his new acquaintance wouldn't mind.

"I... generally don't remember," I mumbled, distracted for a moment by the other's wiping of the page. I quirked a brow, lips pursed. Personally, I didn't know what this guy could do, or if he was just a germaphobe or... There was something off and I didn't know what it was yet. I'd figure it out.

For all his charms and frankly good looks, there was just something I couldn't get passed, and I needed to figure out what it was.

"Yeah, I'm new," I replied, watching as he signed his own name and narrowing my eyes. That was something I wasn't a fan of, but I was on my best behavior and decided not to mention it, instead smiling back and shrugging."It'd take a lot to coax me into doing your work for you. But I guess I can give out one freebie," I said, gesturing to the page.

Well, he'd asked so I guess I could. "And you? Why are you here?" I questioned, leaning on the back of the bench and still keeping my eyes on the man in front of me.

He maneuvered on the bench. He didn't like Jiho behind him so he had to shuffle around until he was sideways and could watch the boy's movements. He didn't remember his violence? Black outs. That had to be it. He nodded his head knowingly like an old sage, empathetic to that horrible feeling of not being in control.

Enough of that. Matthew snapped the book shut with one hand and grinned. He wouldn't tell the truth. Half of him screamed to tell the Banana to mind his own, but the kid had opened up to him so he deserved some courtesy at least. "Actually, I'm on suicide watch..." He sheepishly raised his chin to draw attention to his scars. That had to be believable, nobody had to know of his violent behavior other than the doctors. Of course this meant that he absolutely had to behave and he honestly intended to.

He offered a shy smile that seemed to once again thank Jiho for the pencil.

The book snapping shut shot me right back into reality and I blinked, watching as he shifted around. Looks like he wasn't exactly trusting me either, which I was mostly okay with. The feeling was mutual, and it wasn't going away.

When he spoke again, though, I shot a hesitant glance to the other's scars. Suicide watch? And that smile... I had a feeling that maybe I was working my way into a corner with this one.

"Suicide?" I asked, eyes narrowed to slits. "... What part of the building are you in?"

I wanted to ask if he was telling the truth, too, but I decided against that part. I was used to bending the truth, and something seemed wrong. Maybe I should take that pencil back...

Too nosy! Matthew licked his lips once more. It had only been a couple days since his move from the crisis unit anyway, that information should work. "Crisis unit, room 103. To be honest that's probably why we haven't met before... See Aaron over there? He's watching me." Matthew gestured to the orderly on duty next to the fence. He had no idea what his name really was, only that he'd been standing out here for the last hour actually watching him as well as the others that meandered around. He smiled and waved to the orderly who caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, looked around for a moment and reluctantly waved back. What a good man.

"You don't have to worry though... Should anything happen I'll make sure they can't trace the pencil back to you." Dark blue eyes searched the boy wondering how he might react. Lying wasn't very nice, Matthew knew this, but it was better than exposing his real self, especially if he was planning of getting out of this place.

Fuck, the crisis unit? This was turning into a worse and worse situation. I was about to just book it from the entire conversation and head back to my room until he gestured to the orderly. I glanced over, looking the man up and down and nibbling the inside of my lip almost anxiously. The way he responded wasn't exactly normal, a little hesitant, but he might have just been distracted. Right? That was a possibility.

I was just trying to be optimistic. But the next sentence out of his mouth made me worry even more and I might have visibly fidgeted a bit, cracking my knuckles for a break in the silence and nodding.

"Y-yeah... Thanks," I replied, gaze flicking up and down Matthew and sizing him up silently. I didn't want a confrontation, and I was trying to stay away from them, to control myself and keep calm.

What else was I supposed to say? Without making anything horribly awkward, that is...

Well there you go, Matthew! His silver tongue securing yet another soul that would probably leave him alone from now on. He didn't want enemies but the last thing he actually needed was mental friends. Be sweet and cozy up to the doctors (especially the girls) and be too much of a risk for other patients to hang around. It was a good plan. He'd gotten burned in his previous hospital before transferring to Acropolis, so he learned from his mistakes. Caring was fine, attachment was not. If he could scare everyone away it would be in everyone's best interest. Still... Jiho could actually be useful to have around. And well, he was nice, especially for a gook.

Matthew sighed audibly with a forlorn puppy dog expression painted across his face. "I made you uncomfortable." It wasn't a question or an apology, just a stated fact. "I understand if you want to leave. Thanks for the lesson and for letting me cheat," He waved the book lightly and smiled that same dimple causing smile again. Oh, how those ocean blue eyes looked so vulnerable.

Uncomfortable was kind of an understatement.

I shook my head, however, waving it off. "It's cool, no problem. Once." I held up one finger as I spoke, chuckling softly. "No more cheating." Hopefully no more lying as well, but for now... Eh, he seemed almost sincere. Almost.

Now what was I supposed to do? Other than... continue being awkward, I supposed.

"I'm always around for art pointers, though." I nodded, smiling down at him and shrugging.

No more cheating? How awful! Matthew puckered an exaggerated frown but it didn't last long as it slipped into a rueful grin. Was this blonde Asian playing with him? He nodded in understanding, though he was certain he could work something out. Perhaps Jiho wouldn't mind doing his homework if it meant he wouldn't get a thumb pressed into his windpipe or a knee to the groin. Honestly he didn't want to do anything that'd earn him more time here, so threats themselves might work. He'd have to try it if the boy insisted.

Matthew patted the bench beside him again. "You're creeping me out back there. Sit." Casually he broke the pencil Jiho gave him into two pieces and then stuffed both of those deep into the crayon box. He knew Mr. Orderly from across the yard wouldn't let him keep it unless he smuggled it back inside. He also offered up no explanations to his company for his actions.

"Where'd you learn to draw?" Conversation. Time to extort some details, some bits of information both about this place (for Jiho had been in the open units, able to explore, while he'd been shackled to a stiff bed away from all signs of life), and about Jiho himself that could be used in the future.

Was I going to sit down?

I thought for a moment before sighing and stepping around the bench to sit down, pulling one leg up onto the seat and curling my arm around it. I mentally winced when he snapped the pencil, lips pursed rather tightly. Thank god that had just been a spare - people doing things like that really got to me, and it probably showed on my face. I wanted to ask what he'd been thinking but then I was getting questioned and I looked up from the crayon box, meeting the other man's eyes.

"Hm? I've been drawing since... Well, for years, I guess. I just picked it up one day." I hadn't really ever gotten any training besides the normal art classes in school. I'd just started one day while I was bored and decided I really liked it. "I started, kept practicing, then discovered tattoos and started drawing more." Chuckling, I shrugged a bit. "I've just always found the arts interesting, I guess."

And I didn't go around breaking my art supplies. That was probably a good way to start.

"Tattoos, huh?" That seemed to arouse his attention. "You just like the art or do you ink other people?" The way Matthew started stashing his things away seemed as if he was getting ready to leave, however he sunk further down into the bench, trying to make himself comfortable, which he had to admit was difficult to do on wooden slabs. He sat sideways so his body was completely facing Jiho, he had meant for it to be a bit intimidating, but he also threw his arm over the back of the bench in an open and friendly gesture.

Matthew didn't have any tattoos himself but the idea was fascinating, particularly the part with the needles. Depositing ink permanently just under the skin was seductive. Just thinking about it caused Matthew's eyes to burn with salaciousness. Jiho's appraisal could possibly spike if he had the knowledge on how to use the irons. Even more so if he could fashion some kind of contraband to use inside these walls.

I glanced over at the other, eyes narrowed. He didn't look like the type to be interested in tattoos, but I had been wrong before. And when he turned to me I leaned back against the bench, even turning a bit to look at him better. Who was I to judge when it came to tattoos - as far as I cared, everyone could get some and it wouldn't detract from a single feature.

"I've always loved the style, and I've designed some. I have practiced a bit before, but I'm nowhere near perfect. I designed some of mine, some for some friends..." More like some for some gang members that had practically begged me to draw for them. That was fine, as it was more practice for me. "Why? Interested in getting some?" I added, head cocked and a light smirk on my lips.

"You could say that," Matthew grinned. It wasn't false, but it wasn't completely true. Light eyes quickly darted over Jiho once more. He had tattoos? Were any visible? He hadn't necessarily been looking for them just a few minutes ago when they first met.

"Where are they?" Without hesitation, Matthew carelessly plucked the hem of Jiho's shirt and if allowed would lift it casually, exposing the other man's belly underneath. It was that same kind of contact that he had no problems dishing out but would never tolerate should the roles be reversed. An obvious double standard but Matthew had the braun to back it up.

"Take off your shirt." It was like an order rather than a request. Although Matthew's intentions were completely non-sexual, this was unmistakable harassment. Jiho might not have a choice, however.

I glanced down when the other man started toying with my shirt though I didn't stop him, a bit too in shock to respond. I usually would have told him no, but it was a sudden movement and I pursed my lips tightly together, blinking a few times.

"I... have some everywhere. Mostly on my torso, and one on my arm... A couple on my legs and... Excuse me?" I asked, his words cutting off mine. He was asking me to... What now?

Usually I was alright with stripping off my shirt, but... this was just like I was being forced to and I wasn't a fan of that. Brow quirked, I recoiled a bit and narrowed my eyes.

"I... I'd rather not," I mumbled in response, about to book it to the nearest exit of the courtyard. Did he think he could order me around? Because that wasn't going to happen. I was all about showing off ink, but I was going to do it at my own pace.

Matthew tilted his head, the corners of his mouth curled for just a bare moment. "Take off your shirt," He reiterated sternly, more aggressive. "What are you, shy? Look," he gestured with his hands, "that girl over there? She's doped up on some kind of shit they've given her, her eyes are glazed over and she's drooling." She don't give a shit about your tic-tac nipples. he wanted to add but refrained. "And the guy running the track? He's too busy counting every step while working through his ABCs backwards on repeat." That probably wasn't true; Matthew didn't know the man.

"And if you're worried about the orderlies, they've all already seen your yellow ass countless times in the shower." He smiled and laughed, glossing over the subtle racial jab. "It's your artwork, man. I want to see it."

I followed every motion of his hands, looking at the people he was gesturing to and narrowing my eyes pretty noticeably at the jab. Yes, I heard it, and I wasn't fond of it either. I grasped that he wanted to see it, but that was low. And it was something that I didn't take lightly.

And I wasn't shy, I was irritated.

"I'd appreciate toning down the race talk," I muttered, not even really moving for a moment before I sighed. "Be happy I like showing off my tattoos," I added, actually slipping out of the shirt. Mostly. I kept it looped around my neck, just so I could get back into it later.

My torso was littered in words and portraits, art in black and white, which I preferred. And I was happy with them. But this show and tell wasn't going to last for very long.

A sharp tsk like sound rasped from his throat, like reprimanding an animal or a small child. No need to get all huffy. Dark blue eyes watched intently as the boy removed his shirt. He grinned as the material looped around his throat and stayed there. Tempting. His thoughts darkened. All it would take was a swift, hard tug of the back that would tighten the neckband hard into the trachea.

It wouldn't be worth it, though, he decided. The rub wouldn't be near enough to do any real damage and would only earn him another trip to the C.U. without anything to show for it.

His eyes barely skimmed over the tattoos, like all the life had suddenly drained out of him.

"Not bad, I guess," he murmured, chewing on his bottom lip.