Hm. So it is true.

It hadn't been the plan, no. Not at first. He'd simply noted his partner's fondness for the species and figured the golden one he'd heard tale of in the Safari Zone would make a sweet addition to the school. Not unlike presenting a lover with a trophy from a hunt.

He'd thought, then, to read up on Luvdisc so he might impress Temp with some inane fact about the species.

And then he'd seen the little note, tucked away in an innocuous paragraph.

In some parts of Hoennian culture...

Including this one, Tulio confirms, and Gavin summons the full strength of his willpower not to look away from the man's scrutiny. His expression reads not unkind, not disapproving.

"I'm planning to give him a Luvdisc." Gavin's neck is prickling. "However he decides to take it is entirely up to him. It could be a nice addition to his school... or more than that, if that's what he wants. I..." A pause, a deep flush to his cheeks as he struggles to put his thoughts into words. "He'll know what it means."

For Temp had seen his dreams, warped by the Soiree's mists.

It was less of a question, and more of a surrender. Yours.

Tempest Quinn

"He'll think it was a marriage proposal." Tulio is not unkind or against his son tying the knot. He could care less it's with another man, too. Their culture did not see those differences as others did. He did have an inkling of worry that Cillian Quinn would give his son a proposal and then claim it wasn't.

"I never thought he would get married." And Tulio isn't sure what he wants to do with Gavin right now. Probably give him a hug. "He's never been... well, he was with that... Alexei Ivanov I think his name is. Good man. Then one day my boy says they broke up and won't tell me why. I gave up hoping after that."

This time, Tulio sniffles. His face scrunches up but his eyes only get misty.

"Come here, lad. Give me a hug." And he opens his arms in offering. Welcome to the family.

Gavin's lip twitches as he realizes the miscommunication.

"Then that's what it'll be."

But for Gavin, it was more than that. It was a way of letting Temp know that whenever he was ready, Gavin would be there to meet him halfway. They didn't have to get married this year, or the next, or even ten years from now. But if Temp wanted to tie the knot tomorrow, then that's just what they'd do.

"For me as well," he admits, "there was someone... before. That's what it'll mean. That I've let that go. That — that if it's what he wants, then it's what I want, too." A pause, then, "I know why they split." Rocket. He won't share that which was told in confidence, not even to Temp's own father, but, "I can promise it'll never be a problem with us."

Us.

Tulio's simple acceptance is so warm that Gavin almost doesn't know what to do.

So he settles for compliance, and offers the older man a crushing hug.

"I'll take good care of him. You have my word."

Tempest Quinn

The crushing hug is good. Tulio squeezes back with everything in him. Cillian Quinn will feel every load of fish he's hauled ashore over the years squeezed into him. A few pats on the back, hardy.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, son." Muttered for Gavin to hear. A promise of his own. Not lad anymore but son. It might also be a boost in confidence; Tulio was sure of Temp's answer even before the question was posed.

Another moment and he pulled away, whistling low as he glanced at the cooking food between them.

"Whoops. Almost let this burn!" The coconut milk and sugar mix was bubbling and hot, having turned into a thick glaze. The coconut flesh was tossed in and stirred up. "All done! Just put it in a container and let it harder up. He'll eat these till he pops if you let him."

The fish, too, was boiling. A quick stir and Tulio tossed in a few basic spices, salt and white pepper, before sliding over some hardy root vegetables to Gavin. "Slice those and drop them in." They were almost done.

Son.

It's Gavin's turn to get misty-eyed, throat closing around any words he might've found. For a moment he's so overwhelmed that he nearly forgets to breathe — and then, blessedly, the moment is past and they're back to worrying over the coconuts.

Vegetables are sliced with quick, steady hands. There's a small scar on Gavin's index finger that had not come from chopping food.

He breaks the silence only after the slicing is done.

"You know who I am?"

It had never been an explicit discussion between them, but...

Tempest Quinn

The soup bubbles between them in a steady rhythm. Tulio plucks a cigarette, hand rolled, from a small tin in his shirt. The end is bitten off before a match lit. If Cillian Quinn wants, Tulio will share the light. Either way, the heady smell of fresh tobacco fills the small space. Princess makes a displeased noise from where she had settled and scurries back into the water.

A long drag and smoke wisps out of Tulio's nose.

"Aye. I've got ideas." While not a fun conversation, he appreciated Gavin's willingness to face it head on. "I know a God when I see one, even if she ain't one of ours." Not an insult or slight. No Legends were worshipped as high as the Moon, even if they all had their place. Any sea deity has passing myths.

"Always knew my boy had the same tastes as me. I raised him, after all." The tense atmosphere is lightened, a little, by the joke and toothy grin.

The familiar scent of tobacco floods his nostrils, soothes his nerves.

He knows. Good.

Any hope of hiding his secrets indefinitely had been dashed when he'd made the reckless decision to bring his patron's wrath to the pirates who'd threatened Pacifidlog. Whether Tulio had already known or not, he'd have found out eventually. Better than it came from Gavin now, and better that it didn't come as a shock. He'd expected that the older man might withdraw his acceptance.

But Tulio doesn't, as the truth settles between him. He jests, and Gavin smiles.

Does he know that Temp is, too?

But that isn't his truth to divulge, so he says nothing of it.

"If ever you want the truth of something, you need only ask." A slight hesitation, and then, "My real name is Cillian. There's not many that know, but... he does, and I'd rather not make him lie to his own blood."

He feels exposed, with his secret aired. Why did I tell him that?

Because it's Cillian Quinn who craves that warmth, that acceptance, the way Tulio had called him son and meant it more than Thomas Quinn had ever done.

Tempest Quinn

A hum and nod of understanding.

"Thank ya' for trusting me with that." Tulio is talking to Cillian Quinn but bittersweet memories flood his mind. When Gavin leaves, he'll have a lot to think about. "I'll call you what you like. Might be best not to tell the children. They'll be devastated to change from 'Gavva-Gavva' already." After Gavin had impressed the kids with his knives, fossil pokemon, and love of Temp they had decided he was worthy of their respect.

"So long as you keep my son happy you're always welcome here." A long drag on his cigarette. Tulio has smoke coil from his lips when he speaks again, this one with a slight frown. "You've done more for us since you've been with my boy than the League has since they instated rule in Hoenn, besides."

And Tulio says it over the deep scars of his culture. People might have been Hoenn born but this small village was Hoenn Native. They were too few and the blood too thin, now. A people scattered in the name of progress and forgotten except when it was convenient. The history of Fortree was already erased, Lavaridge and it's sacred mountain paths turned into a tourist trap. Stepping stones for those with more money and power.

"Cillian," he says, "but only between the three of us."

The pair of them and Temp, of course. He does smile at the mention of the children, quick but soft and genuine. He'd never felt so accepted as he did in Pacifidlog; if he'd grown up in their midst, would he have ever joined Rocket?

For a long moment, Tulio's words on the League settle between them.

Gavin accepts them with a dip of his head.

"I'll do what I can. You know how to reach me, if there's trouble."

Pacifidlog might fall outside of Rocket's interests — too small to be of any consequence — but they were Temp's family. His, now; regardless of how his lover answered the question waiting to be posed. So long as they remained together, they were more like family than most of Gavin's own had ever been.

Tempest Quinn