Strange Days

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

Nate had said, in what feels like another lifetime now, that Sunjata wasn't going to be able to get rid of him, no matter how much he complained. This isn't complaining, isn't what Nate had imagined when he'd said those words, made that tongue in cheek promise. He hadn't imagined he would be so desperate, hadn't imagined it would feel so familiar, that it would dig at scars he'd thought were long healed, or at least ignored. The other man steps away, and it twists in Nate's chest, nearly as much as the tone. Flat, resigned.

He wants to summon up some of his anger again, wants to summon something other than his own sadness, his own yawning chasm of hollow numbness. All he grasps at is is ash and smoke, whatever there is usually to hide behind gone. The only consolation, hollow as it might be, is that Sunjata has stopped moving away, hasn't taken another step. Doesn't move away, as Nate squeezes his hand, which manages to spark some hope, urges Nate to keep trying.

"Shit falls apart around you. You don't fucking cause any of it." It's a tragedy, a shame, heartbreaking, but it's not Sunjata's fault. None of it. "You shouldn't be... punished, for trying to be close to people. For wanting to be close to things. For having people want to be close to you." His other hand comes up to wrap around the one he's holding again, to squeeze, to try and hold the other man still, keep him from taking another step.

Nate can feel the tremble in his jaw, the burn in his eyes when Sunjata looks at him again. The click when he bites down against it is audible, and at this point he isn't really sure why he keeps trying to hold things back. One of them has to, has to be the voice of reason, and it's new, it's hard, but the loss is more than Nate thinks he can take. But gods, does he want to be on the other side of this, to be contrary, and overwhelmed, and breaking. It's so much more comfortable. "So what? Are you not going to try anymore? You're gonna sit back and let yourself be what other people want you to be?"

Maea coming up again seems to do something strange to Nate's face, a shiver, a shudder running through him as he tries again to suppress it. "Are you going to push me away? Tell me to leave you alone?" It shouldn't sound so challenging, but it does, and he leans into it. "Say it. Tell me to fuck off. Tell me you're afraid, or whatever it is. Lose me too."

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

He both hears and doesn’t hear Nate. Not as the words that leave his lips suggest that he doesn’t deserve everything that comes for him. He knows he does, knows deep down that it’s some sort of fucked up karma that he’s gathered though he doesn’t know how. Is it from Lusea’s death? Is it from simply being born the way he was? Was it the fact he had to kill so many other innocent kids when he turned seventeen?

Either way, he recalls when he told Maea that this next coming year would be a shitfest. And he was right.

So when Nate tells him that he shouldn’t be punished for trying to get close to people, there’s almost a shudder to his gaze as Nate wraps his hand around the hand already clutched by the Ascended to keep him still. “Maybe I shouldn’t be. But I am.” It’s a weak response, but its all he can see anymore. All of it. The unfairness of it, unknowing how to keep them near without that deep rooted fear that appears when he gets antsy and too far out of himself, all reasonability gone in an instant.

Of course, as Sunjata continues, things get worse – and Nate finds those buttons to press, ones like so many had pressed before that shift him somewhat closer toward that Korofi version of himself that he fucking hates so much. But he can’t help it, not how internally distraught he’s become. The words that leave Nate’s lips feel far more like accusations, and muscles feather in his jaw, gaze narrowing, partial shifts of his prey forms appearing in an attempt to get out.

Perhaps a hint of the fear that settles deep within him?

Those horns appear as they were usually prone to do, feathers shifting to cover along his arms, long feathers slipping out from his forearms at the challenge granted. His mind might be swimming, but the movements are mechanical, hidden and trained deep within his mind. Jaw clenching as he moves, far swifter than to be expected given the physical state he’s in, slipping his hand out from both of Nate’s to push him those few steps back until the Ascended’s back pins against the wall, one hand still braced against the Ascended’s chest. “I am afraid Nate.” He hisses, trying to restrain what semblance he has. Perhaps Nate might notice that hint of authority within his words and movements he’d been trained to do. “I’m afraid that I could’ve fucking lost you too today if they didn’t get the lava to redirect. I’m afraid that the next time some shitty thing happens that you, Melita, Weaver, and Hotaru might fucking get hurt.” A sharp inhale of breath to that as he shakes his head.

“And I can’t do this anymore.”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

But I am. Nate want's to sneer the words back in his face, frustration finally coming to a head, something finally surfacing out of the muddle of his chest. And again, a part of it is insult, is hurt, is personal, and it makes it all so much worse. "But you are? All of this is punishment? Fuck off with that. Things hurt, and you get more than your fair share, but is it really worth losing everything to avoid it? Is it worth not being close to anyone again?" It couldn't be easy to teeter so close on the idea, to think that giving up would be preferable to connections again, but Nate doesn't care about that. Doesn't care about anything more than the insult that living without him would be better than any time with him.

It's unexpected when Sunjata snaps, when the wrong button is touched, when Nate's back is suddenly against the wall. Shocks the words out of his mouth, lips turning in a snarl immediately. Instinct keeps him still though, memories upon memories of being stopped, searched, of what happened to people who caused trouble. It's just long enough to hear the words the other man says, more spirited, more forceful than anything so far, and all that does is irritate Nate more.

What's Sunjata going to do to him anyway? "I could have fucking lost you too, moron!" A hand twists out of the hold he's in, reaching up to grab at a shoulder, at a horn, trying to pull some of the pressure off him. "I could lose you anytime you go and do some stupid shit! Anytime you fucking go off! And I fucking deal with it!" There's no breath, no inhale, but there is a pause as he tries to see if anything is sinking in. If anything is getting through. "I don't want to fucking lose you. I don't want to lose anyone! But it happens."

The hand wrapped around the horn moves side to side, no longer trying to relieve pressure, but trying to shake some sense into the attuned. "You think the people who love you don't feel the same thing? God, I..." Nate growls, shaking his head and pressing up against the arm holding him down. "I fucking..." He swallows, like he can't quite get the word out, like it hurts to do. "I fucking love you, and I could lose you anytime, and I'm not trying to fuck off like you are." Nate voice is hoarse, quieter than it's been the entire time, like something had broken, like he can't hold everything in himself anymore.

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

Fuck off with that? Really? He wants to snort, to snap, to ignore everything that Nate has to say because deep down yes, he thinks. It would be better to do exactly that. But he lets it die as he pushes Nate against the wall, pinning him there with his arm, spotting the snarl and somewhere deep down he’s relishing in it – swallowing down whatever retort he has slipping on the tip of his tongue. But Nate’s reaching up, a growl and a hiss slipping from the Ascended that only spurs Sunjata on.

Somehow, it’s surprising to him to hear that Nate also has that fear, reaching up to pull at his horn which causes Sunjata to attempt a small shove back – unsuccessful in the way that Nate has his hand wrapped around the horn. After all, it’s not like Sunjata can hurt him in any other way than emotionally, really. And so his jaw clenches, head shaking a small amount with the movement as he tries to get through it, aiming an attempt to ignore Nate the best he can.

Nate presses up against him, and Sunjata pushes back down – pinning the best he can, arm slipping from Nate’s front to where Sunjata’s body hovers above, arms braced on either side of the Ascended around the middle so he can’t simply just slip out. “Last time I checked, I could get burned by fire and not fucking explode.” He growls back, until of course… Of course, Nate has to admit that he’s being far more reasonable. That he doesn’t want to lose him, an echo of those before him and Sunjata feels those fractures in his chest growing and sparking, and he shivers beneath the tone.

And he shuts down, internally, gaze losing all of its sharpness, its narrowness, making room for the sorrow that breaks through, the pain that flickers across his face. The idea that he'd be okay with becoming just like Nate's brother, said aloud to the Ascended's face cuts deep. And he feels like such a dick for it. Everything he's said tonight. “I’m..” He doesn’t know what to say, head hanging slightly as he shakes it, exhaling slowly, mind swimming once more. “I’m sorry.”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

Nate's hates this, hates being held down, hates this part of Sunjata, hates that they're having a fucking argument instead of trying to make things better. Instead of trying to deal with things. All he feels is pressure, and he hates that too, hates that this doesn't hurt his body more than his heart, because at least that would be something else to focus on, something he could use to drown it all out. Every move he makes is fought against, arms shifting around him to keep him in place, and Nate bares his teeth at that, tugs more on the horn in a frustrated rebellion.

There's more fire on his tongue at the growled response, more frustration bubbling up over sorrow, and something close to panic now, though Nate would never let go of himself to quite that extent, it doesn't mean it doesn't simmer, doesn't try. The only thing that keeps him from going off again is the shift in Sunjata, the way he slumps suddenly. Nate honestly isn't sure what it is, what words finally broke through, but he nearly slumps himself, relieved at last.

Slowly, the hand releases from around Sunjata's horn, wraps around the attuneds shoulder instead, to pull him in close against Nate. "You should be fucking sorry." He murmurs, other arm coming up to make the embrace a proper hug, pull it away from the oppressive, the authoritarian. "I'm sorry too. I... I told you, I'm fucking bad at this. But if I have to be a dick to not lose you, I will." At this point, Nate feels like he's out of his head, a step to the left of himself, now that there's room to breathe between them he doesn't know what to do.

The wall at least is sturdy, when neither of them is, and Nate can lean back against it, pull the attuned down with him as he slides to the floor. "Sunjata, I'm not letting you go. Okay? I'm not." As if to demonstrate his arms grow tighter, fingers moving to curl through the other man's hair. "I've got you."

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

He’s used to this, honestly, the way that he might have someone pinned – prepared to attack or strike at teeth bared at him, slurs and shouts at him. But whatever he does next, the breakthrough that reaches Sunjata internally shuts him down, and he burns and breaks with it, those fractures yawning and growing wider within him as he slumps, forward a small amount – giving in and shivering beneatht he murmur and the touch as the Ascended pulls him closer.

His hands drop from where they brace against the wall, into the proper hug that Nate tries to give him, and Sunjata buries his face into the Ascended’s shoulder, eyes shutting tight, breath picked up in the frustration and anger that seems to seethe and roll off of him in waves. He shudders as Nate slides down the wall and Sunjata’s legs can’t quite hold up his weight anymore, and he sinks down with him, the tightness of Nate’s arms around him acting like glue.

“Okay.” He says quietly, hollow, hoarse, pressing his face further into Nate’s neck as if he can hide away from the weakness shown, the way he can so easily break. He’s already apologized, doesn’t want to say it again. Instead, he tries to keep the feelings within, afraid of letting them spill, trembling slightly in Nate’s touch, hating every second about it, jaw clenched tight to keep from letting things slip.

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

It shouldn't be so easy to pull Sunjata in, the shift should not have happened so fast, so suddenly, and Nate tries to brace himself for what's coming next, whatever hell they have to slog through. Though there is a part of Nate that's glad it wasn't a fight to pull the other man close, to get him down onto the ground. He might not feel pain but that doesn't mean he can throw himself against barbs forever.

The shaking breaks his heart though, along with the face pressing into his neck. Trying to hide. It brings back different memories, no better than before really, and it makes Nate shift, try to pull more of the other man against him, onto his lap. "Okay." He repeats softly, lips pressed against whatever part of Sunjata's face isn't hidden away. There's a tremble in his voice now, and he doesn't have the strength to hold it back anymore, doesn't have it in him to hold himself up as well. His mind's been trying to collapse this whole time, has only stayed together for the other, and now that the crisis feels like it's passed?

Nate doesn't tremble, doesn't try to hide. He can't. All that's left is for the mire in his chest to force itself out some other way, the shimmering in his eyes finally pushing past the dam he'd had up. It doesn't even feel cathartic, just adds to the feeling of panic, of terror. He shouldn't be alive, neither of them should, not really, but they are, and he has no idea what to do, beyond pressing his face harder against the other man, not bothering to hide the cool fluid dripping down his cheeks. Instead, he tries to force more words out, like an idiot, unable to hold his tongue. "You're fucking... you're important to me. I want... I don't know, Jata, I don't, but... whatever I do want, I want it with you."

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

The repeated okay has Sunjata still trembling, shaking, breaking within the arms of Nate. He’s welcome to pull and push and press against Sunjata in whichever way he can. He ends up in the Ascended’s lap, feeling so small and broken and fragile and it rebels against that internal part of him, the one that had been raised to refrain from his weakness, beaten when he’d acted out or shown it, beaten when he’d fallen into those traps of self destruction.

Until he turned seventeen, that is. And then his father was content to let him burn and meld and deal with his problems hidden from the public eye – to pretend that it didn’t exist when it most certainly did. When he’d prepared that mask to hide behind, to get out his aggression in the work that he did for his father on the front lines, enforcing and plotting a way around it behind closed doors.

Until… That day when he’d nearly stepped off the ledge of a building when he couldn’t find a way out of it.

And he shakes and trembles with those thoughts, while Nate… Nate doesn’t. But he does do something else that causes Sunjata to realize just how much he’s fucked up. There’s a sharp inhale when he can feel the fluid slip through the fabric of his ashen shirt, and he manages to break through the trembling of his hands and arms to squeeze Nate tighter when he speaks, some sort of… Closeness he hadn’t expected with the Ascended but happy to take. Because Nate hadn’t let him push him away, hadn’t bowed to that shift in him that was far more police-like that Sunjata had only eluded to.

He hadn’t shied away. And really? Really that says a lot to him. His voice trembles just as his arms do, listening to the admission and sucking in a sharp inhale. “I know.” He says, even though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Honestly, when it came to part of the reason Sunjata had needed that break, it had started because of the man that holds him, that breaks with him, that he’s hurt, and it causes some sort of realization within him. “I’m sorry Nate. I’m sorry.” He utters, shaking voice leaving his throat and far heavier in his accent.

He does something different than he typically does when he shuts down, because nobody else had broken down with him in such a way as this… And he lifts his head away, brushing a stubbled cheek against the Ascended’s as he tries to find those swimming electric steels – his own storms shadowed and shattered and rimmed with red, one hand lifting to Nate’s raven hair. “You’re important to me too, okay? I’m just.. I.” He wants to bite his tongue, but he can’t. “I do this, a lot.” He’s reached that edge to step over multiple times in his life. “ I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

Feeling arms squeeze him back does nothing but increase the flow of tears, forcing out more emotion than Nate has ever let another person see in his life. Well... that's not true, not really, but the only other people who would have seen this are long dead, in another world. He doesn't expect the response, but he does close his eyes when it comes, the words, the apology hurting more than it should. "No you... you don't have to say sorry, I..." But the words are cut off, swallowed down with a clumsy tongue, because Sunjata is moving, and whatever he needs is more important to Nate in this moment than whatever he needs to say.

The words were already unexpected, but the eye contact, the press of a cheek against him is almost too much. It's obvious, in the way his jaw shakes, the way he swallows against nothing, that he's fighting to not pull away now. He's pushed his way through so much else, he can force himself to be vulnerable with Sunjata. Can force himself to actually lean into his trust. And it shouldn't feel so much like looking into a mirror, but it almost hurts more to see all the hurt he's feeling reflected on the other man's face. It's not a surprise, it's just hard to be literally face to face with it.

More than anything else, he appreciates the difficulty Sunjata is having, the struggle to get the words out, and he holds his tongue until he's sure the other man has said what he needs to, leaning back into the hand in his hair. "I get it. I... fuck, believe me, I do." There's a laugh so dry and humourless it seems like it hurt Nate to get it out, and a hand shift to cup Sunjata's jaw, brushing against his face like Nate isn't sure how to touch something so important. "I'll... I'll talk you back from the edge whenever you need. And..."

He has to pause again, has to try and swallow down everything, so he can get his words straight, so he can make sure he's saying what he wants to. "I meant... every single thing I said. Okay? Everything." Even the kind of shitty things, though Nate doesn't think the attuned will hold it against him. "I want to support you, and... I..." He stops to swallow again, to press his forehead against the other man. He could stop here, he thinks. Could keep some things clenched behind his teeth, in his fist and never let them out. "I love you, Sunjata. I do." It's not a time for confessions, but it's clicked in his head, and he has to say it before he can't.

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

He’s quiet, shaking but quiet, when he moves to try and get Nate’s attention, listening intently for whatever the Ascended has to say. And it shutters his head within him, thundering against his ribcage with the pressure applied from the feeling he gets when he sees Nate’s electric blues, almost dimmed, swimming in a range of emotions and feelings that Sunjata can’t help but to feel reciprocated along his own hard lines of his face.

The laugh that he receives from Nate as the man tilts his head back into his hand, only has Sunjata clutching him closer – feeling that emptiness within, that great divide, that yawning expanse of nothing but a void of black and pit of despair. His nostrils flare as Nate’s hand lifts to cup his jaw, and his gaze shutters closed briefly, tilting his head into the touch as if telling him it’s okay. An exhale slow and shaky, attempting to keep it under wraps, before his gaze flickers open, a tear slipping from the edge of his eye as the muscles beneath Nate’s hand flex with some hidden shame of having it happen.

Still, he remains silent, giving Nate the time to go through the throws of his own emotions, letting the Ascended fight through the block in his throat just as Sunjata tries to swallow his down. And it fucking hurts to do so, leaving his throat raw and hoarse and feeling as though it’s closing up. He half wants to tell Nate that he’s going to need a lot of those talk backs, of those words shouted and argued against him when he becomes too stubborn and too lost to listen.

But it only gets worse from here… At least for Sunjata. His gaze opens to meet Nate’s as soon as their foreheads are touching, Sunjata’s trembling breaths raking across the Ascended as his hand begins to twist in Nate’s dark hair as if it’s some sort of contact, some connection that can’t be so easily shrugged off or taken away. But this confession? The confession gets him to still completely – unsure whether or not to try and clarify of which kind of love Nate means.

Because that makes all the difference doesn’t it?

So his gaze shutters shut again, taking a few moments to inhale deeply. “How?”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

Being pulled so close only calls back to an easier talk, a different time, but it has Nate's fingers scrabbling against Sunjata's back, trying to somehow pull him closer. At this point, it's as much for Nate himself as it is for the other man, a wordless expression of need in the face of his own fragmenting. Fingers tremble, for the first time, when they're leaned into, a thumb immediately moving to wipe away the tear that falls, Nate understanding the shame, the urge to give in to it. It's where he'd be right now, if it wasn't for everything else, every other emotion crashing down on his exhausted psyche.

Regret though, rears its head no matter what else he's feeling, no matter how much else wears upon him. And it rears quickly, as soon as he feels the stillness in the other man, the stiffening in response to his words. A stillness that Nate matches, that he can do so much better than the other man, that seems to have so much less weight because of it. This is his default state, isn't it? Fucking up and frozen in the face of it.

There is a chance, as the question comes, as Sunjata's eyes close, and Nate doesn't know how to respond. Doesn't have a fucking clue. He'd said he was selfish, but he's a coward too, and pushing too far is how he loses things. "I..." His voice is a croak, air pressed through a dry, closing throat. "I don't know. I want to... go through this shit with you. Help you with it." His voice doesn't improve, but he can't feel the way it rips through him, so does it really matter? "I want to have you... do the same for me. I want to fucking just... be able to hold you through these things." And again, his hands tighten, fingers twisting into ash stained clothes and against filthy skin. It takes another long moment before Nate continues, like he's savouring their closeness. "However you want me to." The words are somehow more strained than what preceded them, somehow harder to get out.

It's not a backpedal, not quite, but it's also not really an answer. And before any kind of response comes, Nate is trying to shift, to close things off. Not quite pulling away, but letting the hand on Sunjata's face slip, letting his eyes close so he doesn't have to watch the response roll over the attuned's face. Selfish, and cowardly, and full of shame for the both of them.

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

Nate does do better at the stillness, and somehow Sunjata wonders as he focuses on the sharp lines of Nate’s face, the blues of his eyes, the emotions swimming beneath them, how he hadn’t quite noticed it before. How he hadn’t noticed the way the fire in the fireplace flickers along the Ascended’s pale skin and flickering along the pearlescent hue of the tears that have fallen and track along his face regardless of how Nate wipes away his own. He’s not sure what to do, not sure what he can do as Nate responds and Sunjata feels this strange need to hold his breath, to continue to try and gasp for breath to try and swallow down that tightness of his throat.

He feels Nate’s hands roam, twisting into ashen clothes and streaking grey and black along bronze and black tattooed skin, but Sunjata can’t help but to let that heavy look cross over his face. Somewhere deep within he’s tired of these confessions, tired of explaining how difficult it is for him to admit to them and give into them when he couldn’t even get over his past. That he’d always end up keeping one foot in the past and one foot forward, regardless of how much he tried to change it.

Perhaps he wasn’t worth changing.

But one thing, the one thing he knows from Nate… He knows the Ascended doesn’t have that goal, doesn’t want to change how he does things, how he is at his core. And perhaps it makes this easier, perhaps it breaks through and the fact that all along in the rest of his drama and chaos that he was simply just waiting for something like this.

He doesn’t expect Nate’s gaze to drop, to drift with his not-answer. And Sunjata’s quick to change it, fingers tightening in raven hair, trying to keep Nate from pulling away while his other hand reaches for the Ascended’s own jaw and cheek, a calloused thumb stroking along the tracks of oily Ascended fluid and not caring if it mixes and melds into a dark hue along their ashen clothes and bodies. “Nate…” He rumbles, voice even more accented somehow.

“I want that. I… Need that, especially right now.” If only to prevent himself from somehow going and drowning out his problems with the multitude of alcohol and cigarettes that wouldn’t help the wheezing and tightness of his lungs. “But I can’t say it back, I can’t. Not for a while, maybe not ever. I don’t… I don’t know.” He stumbles, stutters, trying to pull Nate’s head up to look at him and near his face near the Ascendeds, nose to nose, searching.

“Even though I try to push you away, please don't go. Please stay.” With him, with whatever other bullshit comes his way. Try to make him realize that it's not all his fault at the end of the day regardless of how much he's going to try and make it out to be.

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

Despite his efforts, Nate never gets the chance to drop his gaze, never really get the chance to drop his hand. As soon as the pressure against his head starts, his eyes snap open again, staring into the storm and waiting to be struck down. Facing it like he should have in the first place. Instead of a denial, a recoil though, there's a hand at his jaw, a thumb on his cheek, wiping away fluid tears. Never before has Nate regretted his ascension so much, has he wanted to feel something in it's full so keenly.

Hearing his own name has never provoked such an intense reaction in Nate before, has never sent him to such dizzying heights or pitch black lows, and especially not in one, singular moment. And he's always had an idea of whats coming, what's going to follow, but he's lost now, in the dark. The stillness can't be maintained, not really, not with the way he has to fight himself to keep from pulling away, the way his jaw feathers under the hand on it.

The stillness doesn't quite come back, but Nate stops fighting with himself. Stops, and focuses entirely on the words, on what they mean. Wait's for the but, for it to extinguish the stupid, reckless coil of.. fuck, he's not calling it hope. He's not willing to put that weight onto the other man, not even in his own head, his own thoughts. But, it's not what he expects. And Nate has to pause, his mind working while his head is moved, while they shift closer. "I... I don't care about that. I don't need it." And he doesn't, not as long as he can hold the other man, as long as he knows what it is they're doing.

His hands get greedy again, fingers spreading along Sunjata's jaw, along his back. They pull him closer, press their faces together, their bodies together, as much as they can, though he wants more. "I already told you. I'm not fucking going anywhere Sunjata." There's a huff, closer to a laugh than whatever the last humourless sound to escape Nate was. "Especially not now. You're not getting rid of me ever."

Blue eyes search storms, and never has a description been so apt. Not the steel of a weapon, or the destruction of a flood, but a storm, the sky, swirling and changing and growing. Fingers curl over cheekbones, stroking a line through ash and revealing the skin beneath, though the intent is more to touch than to clean. "Can I..." Asking permission is new, especially with Sunjata, but this is different, it means something different to Nate, and he has to, just the first time. "Can I kiss you?"

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

He can feel Nate’s jaw feather beneath his touch – so keenly aware with all his senses intact, with all the shifts beneath his skin that align him in such a way that he feels so incredibly deeply in comparison to the dull sensation that Nate receives. But he tries all the same, to give that same soothing touch, the same brush of gentleness that Nate still manages to offer despite not really needing to. Even as he stumbles over what he wants to say, what he’s trying to say, Nate understands as the man stills.

Some sort of relief wells within him at the fact that Nate doesn’t need those things, though he shouldn’t be surprised. Somehow, he’d thought it was something that everyone else required from him, needed from him to know it was real despite whatever feeling he brought up. This felt… Different. A good kind of different despite the vast void yawning within and around him. The only good feeling as of late with a life that had grown so… Dark, bloodthirsty with the daggers that had clattered onto one of the tables in the room.

He doesn’t care where, doesn’t even think about Safrin as a tattooed arm whirled with waves and her own galaxies come around to hold the Ascended closer as Nate does the same, maneuvering his jaw ever so slightly, feeling the light huff that leaves Nate at the comment. Some sort of hollow hum leaving his throat, hoarse and quiet in agreement. “Something something, you’ll regret it at some point, something something, probably.” He replies hoarsely with dry humor, his throat dry and tight – a recollection of a night quite a long time ago now at this point it feels like.

Their eyes search one another’s, Sunjata’s fingers curling and tangling in Nate’s hair a bit more, as he angles himself to face the Ascended a bit more fully, hands shifting from hair to cheeks in some sort of mirror image of where Nate drags his own fingers along freckled cheeks. The question is a surprise, a welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. And without an answer that’s audible, Sunjata’s fingers slip back into the raven hair as an anchor of sorts on his drifting sea, a deep and nearly tentative inhale shuddering through him as he replies in the best way he knows how.

His head tilts forward toward Nate, aiming for lips to crash upon lips.

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed