You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave
Gods almighty, Nate had never been so wrong about something in his whole life. Sunjata’s voice wrapping around reality actually made it much, much worse. How... “How... dare you?” His voice doesn’t crack, somehow, but it does tremble with something that can only be described as wholly genuine bafflement. Tears flow freely now, hands lifting to smear them away before they return to Sunjata’s hair, pulling the length back out of his face. Fuck you. Just... fuck. A wet sigh blows directly into the attuned’s face while Nate thinks about what his husband might be thinking about.
It’s not pretty.
But now that it’s real, now that they’ve said it, it settles over Nate, an inevitability. The sudden knowing is almost as reliving as the wash of positivity that pours into him from his husband, a wave he is all too happy to drown himself in. Do you think your stupid little admirers will stop caring once you’re old enough? Against all odds, these are the first words to slip from Nate with any real ease. Then it’ll be just me. Net vir jou. He doesn’t even have the decency to sound anything other than smug about the idea, his hips pressing up against Sunjata.
A spark of something rekindles in Nate’s head, curling his lips and arching his body into Sunjata’s touch wherever it lands. Something that sounds like a moan even works it’s way between their lips as soon as Sunjata insists on the nickname. Why would I argue when you’re right, baby? Distantly, Nate thinks this flip feels sudden, even to him, but he aches for this, and what better reason is there to simply change?
The hand that had plucked the offending hair initial works its way up along Sunjata’s scalp, wrapping firmly around the base of a curled horn and squeezing. There’s something curious in the way Nate tries to drag it back, something that wonders how his husband is going to react.
It’s not pretty.
But now that it’s real, now that they’ve said it, it settles over Nate, an inevitability. The sudden knowing is almost as reliving as the wash of positivity that pours into him from his husband, a wave he is all too happy to drown himself in. Do you think your stupid little admirers will stop caring once you’re old enough? Against all odds, these are the first words to slip from Nate with any real ease. Then it’ll be just me. Net vir jou. He doesn’t even have the decency to sound anything other than smug about the idea, his hips pressing up against Sunjata.
A spark of something rekindles in Nate’s head, curling his lips and arching his body into Sunjata’s touch wherever it lands. Something that sounds like a moan even works it’s way between their lips as soon as Sunjata insists on the nickname. Why would I argue when you’re right, baby? Distantly, Nate thinks this flip feels sudden, even to him, but he aches for this, and what better reason is there to simply change?
The hand that had plucked the offending hair initial works its way up along Sunjata’s scalp, wrapping firmly around the base of a curled horn and squeezing. There’s something curious in the way Nate tries to drag it back, something that wonders how his husband is going to react.
NATE
