i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all
Good. It’s not clear what he’s responding to, the fact that they’re moving together or the fact that he’s Sunjata’s, but the words carry too much emotion in them to be said out loud. Emotion, and a sharp greedy sense of possession, strong fingers squeezing at the blanket, seeking out holes and thin patches until a warning burn stops Nate still.
A warm laugh leaves Nate, the ascended shifting automatically to brush his lips along his husbands cheek. He remembers at the last second though, and tries to send the same feeling over with the words that purr from him. ”Well I’m glad you didn’t eat any turtles on our first real date.” It would have put somewhat of a damper on the memory, even if the thought makes him laugh more now. Tilting his head so his one good eye can lock on steel ones. ”I should’ve kept you.” Slowly, his gaze drops, following the hidden line of shoulders, arms, down to Sunjata’s wrist, that first scar. ”Should’ve done a few things different.”
His gaze doesn’t rise again, not as his hand does, covering the tremble in Nate’s jaw. He wants to apologize, in some way, though he’s not quite sure what for. ”I love you.” He says instead, the words quiet, but carrying a weight that rushes out through the bond, reaching for Sunjata. I love you so much. For a moment, Nate forgets about the box, about the curse on him, his hand rising to cup the attuned’s face, shaking against the burn while Nate leans in to press a quick, desperate kiss to Sunjata’s lips.
It’s not nearly enough to satisfy him. It’s more than enough to hurt him. And it’s exactly what he needs.
Pulling away with a tremble, his fist closing again in blankets, Nate licks his lips like it will soothe the burn and smiles, finally looking back down at the box, at the delicate flowers in Sunjata’s grip. Of course he remembers, if only by the colours, the shapes. ”Whe-“ Stiffness makes the word near unintelligible, but there’s always their backup. When did you grab this? How did you even remember? Nate shares as much of the memory as he can of their wedding, flashes and streaks of colour, blue skies and blue ocean and pale sand, pops of brightness from the flowers, and the shimmery, perfect image of his husbands smiling face.
A warm laugh leaves Nate, the ascended shifting automatically to brush his lips along his husbands cheek. He remembers at the last second though, and tries to send the same feeling over with the words that purr from him. ”Well I’m glad you didn’t eat any turtles on our first real date.” It would have put somewhat of a damper on the memory, even if the thought makes him laugh more now. Tilting his head so his one good eye can lock on steel ones. ”I should’ve kept you.” Slowly, his gaze drops, following the hidden line of shoulders, arms, down to Sunjata’s wrist, that first scar. ”Should’ve done a few things different.”
His gaze doesn’t rise again, not as his hand does, covering the tremble in Nate’s jaw. He wants to apologize, in some way, though he’s not quite sure what for. ”I love you.” He says instead, the words quiet, but carrying a weight that rushes out through the bond, reaching for Sunjata. I love you so much. For a moment, Nate forgets about the box, about the curse on him, his hand rising to cup the attuned’s face, shaking against the burn while Nate leans in to press a quick, desperate kiss to Sunjata’s lips.
It’s not nearly enough to satisfy him. It’s more than enough to hurt him. And it’s exactly what he needs.
Pulling away with a tremble, his fist closing again in blankets, Nate licks his lips like it will soothe the burn and smiles, finally looking back down at the box, at the delicate flowers in Sunjata’s grip. Of course he remembers, if only by the colours, the shapes. ”Whe-“ Stiffness makes the word near unintelligible, but there’s always their backup. When did you grab this? How did you even remember? Nate shares as much of the memory as he can of their wedding, flashes and streaks of colour, blue skies and blue ocean and pale sand, pops of brightness from the flowers, and the shimmery, perfect image of his husbands smiling face.
NATE
