i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all
His hearing might be good, but they aren’t good enough to hear the commotion upstairs, how dangerously close it had come to one of his what ifs coming true. Nate still knows Sunjata is awake though, because he suddenly feels something that isn’t a low buzz of resentment from Pemota, and since she’s outside, it can only be Haai. In all his time spent in Sunjata’s bed, he has only seen Haai rise without waking the other man once.
Nate pauses his consideration of ingredients to actually light the stove, get a pot of water heating. If he times it right, it should be hot by the time Sunjata made his way downstairs. It feels like he’s doing something, if nothing else. The sound of steps creams down towards him, and he puts away all but a few things, a less random selection now, eggs, a collection of vegetables, as well as some meat and cornmeal. A decision made, just as arms wrap around him, shut everything else out for a moment. Nate’s hand comes up to hold Sunjata head, fingers threading through short hair. ”Morning.” He hums back, as the other man pulls away, looking for coffee, and Nate’s hands fall back to his task.
”You hungry?” Nate asks, something in his tone silently saying you better be, as he picks up a knife and starts cutting things. Potatoes find their way into a pan first, along with a healthy amount of butter. Onions, garlic, and peppers join it shortly, along with pinches of spices that Nate can only hope are similar to what he needs. ”Don’t use all the water. I’ll need some.”
There’s something stiff in his tone, and despite his best efforts Nate can’t quite shed it, can’t force things to sound completely normal. He does what he can to not linger on it, to keep moving, like maybe if he does, he can get past it.
Nate pauses his consideration of ingredients to actually light the stove, get a pot of water heating. If he times it right, it should be hot by the time Sunjata made his way downstairs. It feels like he’s doing something, if nothing else. The sound of steps creams down towards him, and he puts away all but a few things, a less random selection now, eggs, a collection of vegetables, as well as some meat and cornmeal. A decision made, just as arms wrap around him, shut everything else out for a moment. Nate’s hand comes up to hold Sunjata head, fingers threading through short hair. ”Morning.” He hums back, as the other man pulls away, looking for coffee, and Nate’s hands fall back to his task.
”You hungry?” Nate asks, something in his tone silently saying you better be, as he picks up a knife and starts cutting things. Potatoes find their way into a pan first, along with a healthy amount of butter. Onions, garlic, and peppers join it shortly, along with pinches of spices that Nate can only hope are similar to what he needs. ”Don’t use all the water. I’ll need some.”
There’s something stiff in his tone, and despite his best efforts Nate can’t quite shed it, can’t force things to sound completely normal. He does what he can to not linger on it, to keep moving, like maybe if he does, he can get past it.
NATE
