Honestly, Francis cares more about Dodger's well-being than he does his own. It was at least part of why he was here. Or well, maybe it was just that he'd been hoping to avoid another temper-tantrum explosion like with Jason. The idea that Dodger might have told Francis about Ivar without mentioning that Ivar thought they were exclusive hadn't occurred to him, which left him here trying to defuse Dodger's mess which was the exact opposite of what he'd wanted.
He catches Ivar's hands, but it's not an aggressive gesture. He doesn't try to take the knife from him, or restrain him, he just lightly holds his hands despite the blade. And he doesn't shy away from his temper, the anger doesn't deflate the blonde.
"It's not like that. I'm-- his roommate," he says. And it doesn't taste like a lie; it carries the weight of words pulled from Dodger's tongue as the blonde shakes his head. Of course, there's still the red collar around his throat, and Fran cares, deeply. And he knows that Dodger cares on some level, that he means the things that he says- but he doesn't realize how much so. He thinks he's at the bottom of Dodger's affections.
"And I don't think you would have touched me if you thought you two were entirely exclusive," he points out, but it's gentle, not accusatory. Leaning into his space a little, trying to take his anger, as much of it as he can at least, fingers stroking soothing touches over his hands. He's usually good at it, but he has a bit more warning than this usually, knows the context better.
But the idea of Ivar hurting Dodger and especially doing it because of him makes his heart twist. And there's a spark of something defensive he shoves down for the moment before it can get away from him. He needs to fix this, to at least dial things down to the low simmer they'd been at before he'd put words to it.
"I won't claim to know how things are between you two... but I don't think he sees you as a fool. He was talking about how capable you are." He looks up at Ivar and his lips curl into a slightly wry sort of smile. "I was just worried I might mess things up."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-05-30 10:13 am (UTC)He catches Ivar's hands, but it's not an aggressive gesture. He doesn't try to take the knife from him, or restrain him, he just lightly holds his hands despite the blade. And he doesn't shy away from his temper, the anger doesn't deflate the blonde.
"It's not like that. I'm-- his roommate," he says. And it doesn't taste like a lie; it carries the weight of words pulled from Dodger's tongue as the blonde shakes his head. Of course, there's still the red collar around his throat, and Fran cares, deeply. And he knows that Dodger cares on some level, that he means the things that he says- but he doesn't realize how much so. He thinks he's at the bottom of Dodger's affections.
"And I don't think you would have touched me if you thought you two were entirely exclusive," he points out, but it's gentle, not accusatory. Leaning into his space a little, trying to take his anger, as much of it as he can at least, fingers stroking soothing touches over his hands. He's usually good at it, but he has a bit more warning than this usually, knows the context better.
But the idea of Ivar hurting Dodger and especially doing it because of him makes his heart twist. And there's a spark of something defensive he shoves down for the moment before it can get away from him. He needs to fix this, to at least dial things down to the low simmer they'd been at before he'd put words to it.
"I won't claim to know how things are between you two... but I don't think he sees you as a fool. He was talking about how capable you are." He looks up at Ivar and his lips curl into a slightly wry sort of smile. "I was just worried I might mess things up."