Work Text:
"Where do you think we keep love?" Venus asks.
Neptune raises an eyebrow, her hand loosely around the neck of the nearly-empty bottle. "We"re not playing truth or dare anymore. Did tasting booze for the first time fry your brain or something?" She smirks. "Oh god, Venus, did I actually manage to break you? I"ve been trying all week you know."
"Uh, no, I don"t...think so?" Venus smiles, sort of sympathetic and sort of pitying. Neptune has the distinct feeling she wants to smack that look right off that pretty face. "I mean...never mind, it"s kinda stupid."
"I"m interested," Jupiter offers. She scoots a little closer, blinking fast as if that would clear the alcohol from behind her eyes. "Keeping love. Like, a thing? Is love a thing you keep?"
Neptune raises the bottle to her lips. "In a bag, in a box," she mutters, almost a song, humming into the glass. Then she sips, and both melody and expression twist into disgust. "Fuck. Still vile. I"m going to murder whoever invented the concept of acquired taste."
"I guess, it"s just an impression I got." Venus is cross-legged, as always, but there"s something more...honest about it. Less formal, less pretending-to-be-good. "My mom talked about love like it was something...physical, I guess. Like you had it or you didn"t. And Group South, a couple days ago, asked me about–"
"Oh my god, Venus," Neptune groaned. "You know they were fucking with you, right?" She shuddered, and it"s not clear whether it"s because of the conversation, the alcohol, or the overly cool night air. "Thank fuck you didn"t actually tell them you were crushing on anyone. They would have destroyed you."
For a moment, Jupiter looks like she wants to add something, but she keeps her mouth shut. Fingers around her hairband, and she snaps it. It"s sharp, and real, and it keeps her where she needs to be. Who she needs to be.
"I know." Pursed lips, like Venus is trying to decide between offense or shame. "But it just got me thinking, I guess, how I would know if I did love someone? If it"s something you feel, somewhere, then I should know, right? So..." Venus shrugs. "Like I said, kinda dumb."
"Wouldn"t that just be the heart though?" Jupiter asks. "I mean, that"s what people would say. If I asked my mom, she"d say the heart, I think."
"What about your dad?" Neptune smirks. "The cool one. I"d trust his judgement a lot more on the subject."
Jupiter bites her tongue and the hairband bites her wrist. Snap. "My dad doesn"t like talking about this sort of stuff. I guess he"s worried he"ll...rub off on me? Or make my mom mad, or something."
For once, Neptune is silent. She raises the bottle, cringes, and puts it down on the floor in front of her without drinking. "It"s the mouth."
Four eyes turn towards her.
Neptune scoffs. "It"s obvious, right?" She reaches up and taps her lips. "You kiss with the mouth. Say "I love you" with the mouth. That"s where you keep love. Where it lives, in this dumbass metaphor that you"ve somehow convinced me to buy into."
"Do you have to say it to make it real?" Venus asks, and it"s an honest question.
Jupiter flushes instantly, and Neptune turns her head to hide what must have been a similar expression of embarrassment. Unfortunately, that results in her looking right towards the closet, so she turns back to glare at her inquirer. "Venus, are you trying to convince me you"re the foremost authority on love? Because you"ve been in so many relationships, I"m sure. Do you really think you should be picking apart my answers on the subject of romance?"
Venus blanches, hands up in surrender. "No, no, uh, sorry. I was just curious, I wanted...um, sorry."
"It"s fine," Neptune grumbles, and it almost sounds like an apology. "Whatever. You"re way too easy. Yes, you need to say you love someone, or else it doesn"t count. When you want to say it, that"s when you know. Happy?"
Venus just shrugs.
"Jupiter," Neptune says, deadpan, "save me from this conversation. It"s inane to the point of brain-rot."
Jupiter laughs. "Yeah, okay. Uh, sure." She tries to think of something to change the subject, but nothing comes to mind. Nothing but the obvious. "I guess...should I weigh in too? On where we keep love?"
"Yes please," Venus says, a little too fast.
Neptune just waves a hand, and coughs into her arm.
Jupiter rolls the answer around her head. She has it, she knows it complete, but it still seems wrong. It sounds wrong, echoing in that space between her eardrums. But it feels right, doesn"t it? "I think we love from our hands. Like, I feel like love might feel like...tingly, maybe? Like that itch when you really want to hold someone"s hand. Or when you can"t help but fidget." She"s fidgeting right now, fingers wiggling against each other; and the irony is not lost on her.
"Have you felt like that before?" Venus asks, and there"s almost an awe in it. Or a gratitude. Something light, and lovely.
Jupiter tries to smile back, but it comes out wrong, skewed, and she feels herself shying away from her friend"s enthusiasm. "Hasn"t everyone?" It"s a weak deflection, and she knows it.
Venus looks disappointed, and that stings far sharper than Jupiter"s anxieties. "Hm."
"Don"t "hm" us," Neptune says, staring at Venus. "You"ve got something to say, say it."
"Oh," Venus says, "sorry, sorry. I was...I mean, I do, I was just thinking." A hand up through fluffy blonde hair, one nervous tic among many – fingers catch against a bit of something tangled there, and Venus pulls it out. A tiny feather, pale and thin. Venus shivers, and flicks it away. "I think maybe different people feel love in different places? You two do, at least, and maybe everyone just has somewhere different."
"Do you think you know where yours might be?" Jupiter asks. "If you had to guess, at least. I mean, if you don"t already know." She scrunches up her face. "I should stop talking."
Neptune snorts. "Please never stop Jupiter, you and Venus are the only two motherfuckers here who could handle me and I need to hear your voices at all times or I will turn into a crazy axe murdering psycho."
That draws a chuckle from Venus, and Jupiter laughs too.
"But seriously," Neptune continues, "share with the class, Venus. You can"t just spring that revelation on us like that and not follow it up." She reaches across the distance, resting her weight on her hand for a moment, and pokes Venus in the nose. "Spill."
Venus swallows hard, cheeks red. "Uh." Green gaze darts away. "I mean, I think – for me – I probably love from my eyes?" Venus winces. "That sounds dumb."
"Yep." Neptune leans back, picks up the bottle and swishes the contents around. "Tell us anyway."
"It"s like...I think I love...seeing people." Venus stares at the floor between the three, the safest place, the least sinful. "Like watching the little things they do. People kind of show all the best parts of themselves, when they"re happy. I think, when I just want to look at someone, that"s when I"ll know." Quiet, for a moment. "I think being seen might be the most wonderful thing."
Jupiter smiles, softly. "We see you, right now. Nothing stopping us from that."
And Venus smiles back, and there"s a lie in it. "Guess that means you love me."