I come from the water

i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all

"Well aren't I lucky then?" He purrs back, ignoring the mountains of unsaid words to grip onto the easy, the teasing. There is a deep glimmer of appreciation, of understanding in his eyes though, locked on Sunjata as they are. Even if they day doesn't follow the tease, and it won't, it can't, not with Nate twisted up like he is, not with Sunjata injured like he is, there's still a promise that it will be spent together. Maybe long enough for words to get dragged out of him, but more than likely just long enough for him to shove everything back down as deeply and tightly as he can, so he can play at being perfectly fine for a while longer.

Nate drops his fork as the attuned nearly chokes on his coffee, the hand that had once held it lifting to cover his mouth, the laugh that coughs out of him, and the other stretching out to pat at Sunjata's shoulder, just to make sure he's okay. Breakfast has gone well so far, and while it would be unfortunately appropriate to have a fiasco like death by coffee happen to them, that doesn't mean Nate want's it to pass. He waits until steel eyes turn back to him to drop the hand at his mouth, his own grin just as crooked. "I'll make sure you do it right." A tease back, because if there's one thing Nate knows, it that he has nothing to teach Sunjata about knives, but it doesn't stop an imagine forming in his mind, standing just behind the other man, chin on his shoulder, hands on his hands, chopping something for another morning like this, another perfect slice of breakfast.

If they make it to another morning like this. Some insidious voice within him whispers. There are a dozen things on the horizon that could rip it apart, that could do anything to them, and all at once every what if threatens to crash over him like a tidal wave. Nate ignores the thoughts, the voice, as best as he can, and lets his hand drop to grab the one resting on his legs, squeezing it as he takes his own sip of coffee, as his bowl is pilfered from, just as he expected. There's a long suffering sigh, a dramatic roll of blue eyes, the mug set down so he can set his bowl in front of Sunjata instead.

His little bubble of safety, of not thinking about it is coming to an end though, and out of habit, out of a deeply ingrained defence mechanism, he casts out for another small crisis to use to ignore his big crisis, another distraction, a new bubble of just let me do this. "How's your gut been? It looks... bad, today." Comes the casual as can be cast, after another sip of coffee.

NATE

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

He doesn’t know who’s the luckiest between the two of them. If anything, Sunjata thinks he perhaps is luckier to have Nate, to have this, afraid of seeing just how far he could go in the wrong direction before everything blew apart again. A volcanic eruption, a shift into becoming so much like his fucking father that he hated who he was whenever the thoughts drifted that way, a momentary lapse before having Nate pinned against the wall while the Ascended insisted he’d stay through it all.

Did he regret it? Not knowing what he was agreeing to? Had Sunjata failed Nate in that way, of only being one step away from disaster with one foot in the grave ever since they met?

Had he failed Nate by not noticing the way things were edged rough until this morning when it was too evident to miss? He really needed to become more attentive, more acknowledging. Nate cares about him so fucking much, and Sunjata cares too — but has he kept that last lingering piece of a mask up that kept Nate out? From letting him be able to talk about his concerns? Another thought of when he’d returned from being stabbed, of the panic that had been swallowed down, the attempts to pretend like everything was okay.

It really wasn’t, was it?

“I can’t wait.” He offers, falling into the ease of it to mask the shift in his gut. The truth to that strong enough in the look he gives toward Nate, in the returned squeeze to the hand that finds his. The question of his gut has him looking up from finishing the rest of Nate’s plate before he finds it in him to respond. “Sore.” He answers honestly, but the smile he sends Nate’s way tells him not to worry about it. “Haai almost smacked me with her paw this morning but she didn’t. It’s just inflamed I think from that and my freak out upstairs.” He offers, another bit of honest truth.

And when he finishes his coffee, he shifts a bit to slide out of the seat, out from beneath Nate’s comfortable weight of his leg to stand. Though his hand stays in the Ascended’s as he stacks the bowls and cutlery with his other hand, a light tug given to Nate to follow him. “I’ll do the dishes since you cooked.” He hums, leaning over to press a kiss to Nate’s temple, a quiet suggestion goes unsaid that they could talk about what was wrong while he had the water running, something else to focus on as well.

SUNJATA

i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all

It takes two to repress, two to not talk, and if anything, Nate blames himself for how deep down this hole he's slipped, his own urge to not let go of anything, to not let anything bad escape. All he knows is how to not trust, how to not let anyone else in, and even this, even with Sunjata, there's that last door that he lost the key to a long time ago, that he's barricaded closed from both sides. Something's been knocking for a long time though, an endless pounding, like ocean waves, seeping in a little more the longer it's closed. Nate doesn't know if he can open it at all anymore, without drowning, and he's so afraid that when it happens, he won't be the only one swept away.

As far as he's concerned, Nate is the only one who's had any kind of failure, and at the end of the day it's up to him to keep the pieces held together. It's not healthy, maybe, but it's the only thing he's ever known to do.

"I can't either." Nate murmurs, more into his coffee than into the room, a smile crinkling his eyes and his hand squeezing, too hard for the easy mood they're playing at. But he gets the comfortable silence he'd wanted, while Sunjata finishes the rest of his bowl, until Nate breaks it himself, asking after things he knows won't help his spiral (might as well call a spade a spade at this point, though it doesn't have the same explosive potential of the other mans). A brow lifts in response to the answer he gets, not budging at the grin, the reassurance. And he winces as an actual explanation comes, not at all reassuring. "I guess... it could have been worse. Er... bad, for real." It's not the response he want's to give, not the worry, the gentle hands, the more clinical look over the stitches, but it's what he's going to limit himself to, for the moment. He nods instead, lifts the mug back up to his lips and sits like that, his thumb threatening to wear a mark in the back of Sunjata's hand.

His leg moves faster than the rest of him does, dropping away from the attuned's lap as the dishes are collected, Nate's gaze only rising as a kiss is pressed to his head, as his hand is squeezed. He’s just as slow to actually rise to his feet, but there’s no force that could keep him from following after Sunjata, towards the kitchen, the sink. ”Sounds like a fair deal.” He laughs, finishing off the rest of his coffee and adding his mug to the pile.

It’s only after Sunjata starts the dishes that he realizes the con. There’s nothing to do with his hands, no distraction, and they’ve effectively left the peace he’d bargained. There’s a moment of tiny, restless motions, a half assed attempt at wiping the counter, putting away leftover ingredients. Nate’s back beside the sink, beside Sunjata, after a moment, lifting himself up onto the counter in a quick, smooth movement.

Hands reach out, fingers tracing along Sunjata’s face, definitely being a bother, though he can’t quite bring himself to care. ”Hey, Jata?” The words come out before Nate’s sure what he’s going to actually say, silence stretching out, even if the other man turns to him. ”You... I worry about you.”

NATE

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

In all honesty, now is probably the best time for a conversation like this. Where Sunjata’s levelheaded, sore but not broken, and it makes all the difference. But he falls into the comfort, if only for a time, to help alleviate how Nate wants to go about it. He’d said later and Sunjata will abide by that. So instead, he focuses on the question Nate poses, a different version of ‘not yet’ that has Sunjata almost tempted to ask further.

It’s too early in the morning, however, and so he takes it as it is. “I cursed her out pretty well.” He offers with a small smile – knowing that wasn’t a good enough answer, but not having a better one either. He could try to keep the griffin from sleeping in the bed, but that sounded almost as much of a nightmare as everything else was slowly becoming. A little battle here and there was easy, at least, but when it became a mountain Sunjata often realized how shit of a climber he was.

But he’s standing now, pulling Nate along as he offers the fair deal – and Nate’s right in the assumption that it was some sort of crafted trap to get Nate to talk. Because if he took care of the dishes, nothing else would be there to distract him from saying what he needed to. The water starts, heating up relatively well as he rinses the dishes before grabbing a sponge and some of the soap, working to clean dish after dish, slowly to get more time for Nate to speak.

And speak he does, once he’s done fiddling with everything else that’s been left out. He sits up on the counter while Sunjata works, and the attuned leans into the light touches along his face even if sometimes it blocked his line of sight to the dishes he was trying to get clean. “Hmm?” He hums, steel gaze lifting to look up at Nate from the way he sits taller than he is standing when he’s on the counter like that.

Really, it is sort of what he fears – his gaze drops back to the dishes though he remains in Nate’s touch, nuzzling his cheek in a bit as he focuses on the dishes again. “I know.” He admits quietly – because they hadn’t really talked about what had happened when he came home bleeding out. “I’m sorry.” Another quiet offer, but he knows that’s not all – but it’s not his spiral to make. He means every word, tries to pour every thought that he’s fine for this conversation.

He sets the bowl he’s been working on in the rack to dry next to the other, before he’s turning the water off and wiping his hands on a towel. There’s still a bit more of the dishes to do, but this requires his full attention, and so he turns off the water and slips away to fit himself in front of Nate and between his legs, snaking his hands up Nate’s thighs to his hips where he can look up at the Ascended and focus entirely on him. “What else?” ’Talk to me. What can I do? What should I do?’

SUNJATA

i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all

"Before or after she escaped outside?" Nate asks softly, wry grin aimed towards Sunjata, his brow up with the tease. But he blinks, some wheel finally turning, and lets his gaze drift, almost absently, towards the window he'd thrown open, that Pemota had drifted through. Oh. Oops. "I... think that might have been my fault. A little bit." In a roundabout way, but with enough curves Nate could bury himself in so much guilt he'd never see the light of day again, and he's not really in the mindset to keep away from those curves.

As much as it's worked against him, there's a part of Nate, some objective, sensible part, still put together enough to have thought, that's impressed by the hustle, how easily he was backed up against a wall. He hates it, obviously, suddenly understands exactly the feeling that had gripped Sunjata all that time ago, the lashing out, arm on his chest, but for all Nate is quick to anger, quick to threats and intimidation, he's slow to actually get physical, made doubly so by the fact that it's Sunjata, and doubly again by the fact that he's already injured.

If nothing else though, it does force something out of him.

His shoulders slump a little, more in relief that anything else, and his fingers fall still on Sunjata's face. It wasn't exactly that it was a point of contention, of course the other man knew Nate worried about him, it wasn't even a question, but it gave him some kind of base to work from, something to build on. Of course, as soon as he had a foundation, as soon as Nate started planning his next move, he was rocked, the quiet I'm sorry sending his jaw working, his eyes flicking to some distant corner of the room. Because that's not what he wants, not what he means at all. The worry isn't the burden, it's part of who he is. It's what comes from the worry, what comes when he's alone, and he doesn't know how to explain that, without setting it back onto Sunjata's shoulders. There's a low sigh, and then his hands dropping away, twisting together, just for some motion.

Nate knows it comes from a good place, a caring place, but Sunjata coming close, coming to focus on him does not help. He feels small enough, trying to do this, that he doesn't need the extra reduction of being seen while he does it. Hands rise up, and Nate is surprised at the stillness of them, the mechanical motion of them rising to cup Sunjata's face. "Don't look... don't look at me." The other man's is pulled in hard against his chest, Nate's chin coming to rest atop his head, Nate's arms wrapping around his shoulders. "I can talk, or you can see me." It's all he can offer as explanation, but he's not exactly forthcoming with his words after it.

Instead, fingers curl in the short hair around Sunjata's ear, and Nate heaves out a sigh far longer than any person should be able to. This is... stupid. He's stupid. He's being dramatic, and ridiculous, and as much as he wants to just put a line in the sand and not step past it, he can't stop himself. It's infuriating. "I... could keep you safe, so I wouldn't worry." He says, instead of anything else, still trying to be roundabout, to talk around what he wants. "You don't need that though." In fact, I know you'd hate it. And a shrug, felt easily, like he's not sure what to say next, when he knows, he knows he hasn't even really said anything.

NATE

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

“Both.” He offers easily, but when Nate admits that it was his fault Sunjata’s immediately shaking his head. “It wasn’t.” He was asleep anyway, anything could’ve woken the griffin up and she could’ve taken any chance she could to give him quite a rude wake up call. But that’s beside the point, and the point of it all is that he can tell Nate’s worried, that there’s something eating at him, and the last thing Sunjata wants is to try and continue to drop more and more onto his shoulders – for someone who was left alone with his thoughts more often than not without the ability to sleep.

But he’s leaning into the touch, offering what he can before he places the plates and what not up to dry, moving to push his way into Nate’s space – not sure if it’s what the Ascended wants, but it’s what Sunjata thinks  might help – perhaps because of his strict hands off upbringing he’s had that he makes up for it now when things are tough – perhaps just because he wants to. When Nate doesn’t push him away, he considers it a slight win at the very least.

Hands rise up to cup his face, and Sunjata follows the motions – doing whatever it is Nate wants. The quiet request is granted, Sunjata leaning in and wrapping his arms around Nate’s lower back and pressing his cheek to the other man’s chest, feeling the weight of Nate’s head as his chin comes to rest atop the attuned’s head. “Alright.” An agreement, Sunjata remaining within the embrace, closing his eyes, letting his ears pick up the work.

There could be room for joking, but the air doesn’t seem to suggest that it’s a good idea, so he swallows down any quips that come easy to him in order to focus. And it’s not really an answer – a sort of… not answer to any of the questions swirling in his head. But he squeezes Nate gently, his head remaining against Nate’s, unable to hear any form of a heartbeat but it doesn’t matter, not to him when he can still hold onto Nate as a tether and hope that he’s some sort of tether back. “I know you could.” But already it sparks so many other questions lingering. Fire, easily wiping out really one of the only people Sunjata has anymore. And he sighs into the embrace, feeling the slight shrug that has Sunjata’s concern only growing a bit more.

“Let me help.” He says softly, a bit of a pleading tone – unsure what to do with the not answer. ’Let me help, let’s work this out, please don’t leave.’ His left hand partially shifts to those claws, to run and drag along Nate’s back to give him some sort of pressure of comfort added to the tight embrace, a sign that he’s listening and trying to make it as easy as he can. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it. It's okay.” The air is different now, it’s not that heavy weight of everything piled up on top of him like it had been after the volcano. He was in an okay-bordering on good- mental space right now, and it’s something they need to talk about and work out. And he wants to.

SUNJATA

i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all

There's no complaint, no resistance as Sunjata is pulled in close, his face hidden. Nate's eyes close, slowly, and he has a moment, a childish flare of temper. His eyes should be burning. This, whatever it was, whatever it is, because God's know it's still swirling in his chest, gnawing at his mind, could be dealt with easily. If he could feel. If he could distract himself. It was unfair. And the whole twist has another low hum of negativity washing over him from outside, a needling in his mind that gets more insistent as his anger surrounding his ascension grows.

It's unrelated, as much as any of his issues are unrelated to his ascension, his mind trying to pull him in a different direction, to focus him somewhere else so he doesn't have to face whatever this is. Guilt brings him back, like it usually does, the pleading tone in Sunjata's voice, and the pressure of claws. He's trying so hard, and Nate doesn't even know how to meet him in the middle, doesn't know what to put words to and what to let slip by, for the moment.

Whatever you want to say. It's an offer that seems to good to be true, that he doesn't want to trust, that he has to convince himself to trust, because it's Sunjata, and he wants to, he does trust the attuned. "I..." One thing at a time, so what comes first? "I need to be needed. I'd like to... I want to be needed, by uh, by you. But..." And here his voice trembles, not cracking, but coming closer than it should, than he has any right to. "You don't really need me. Fuck, I mean..." What does he mean? What the fuck is he trying to say? "You're... you come from a place that I'd be dead in. Yea? I don't... I'm not..."

Nate falls silent for a long moment, clenching his jaw so tightly he can hear his teeth groan with the pressure of it, that he's sure he's shaking with it, just a little. It's another thing that doesn't actually help, but that forces him to think. "I don't fucking know." There's the edge of a laugh that comes with it, something hysterical. "I want you to be safe. I know you can... take care of yourself. But I... I still want to..." His arms grow tighter, pull Sunjata in closer, as much a trailing off as it is an example.

NATE

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

He is trying hard,  but whether or not Nate meets in the middle doesn’t matter to him. He just wants the Ascended to feel better, to get whatever it is that weighs him down to get off his chest – a burden they both can carry. Together. Because that’s what this was now, wasn’t it? He’s still not sure what exactly their confession and tradition made them, because there wasn’t an actual wedding involved, nor was there an amount of commitment added to it. But it felt right, it feels right, and Sunjata really can’t imagine it any other way.

So he tries, so hard, to be that pillar Nate needs to relieve the pressure, keeping his eyes shut, listening to the vibration of Nate’s voice leave his chest as he’s held in close, Sunjata’s own claws dragging in soothing strokes along Nate’s back and spine to try and make it just that much easier. And he listens. “I do need you.” He says softly, perhaps a bit muffled in the embrace, but still there nonetheless. Whether or not he was strong on his own wasn’t something Sunjata thought of, because when left to his own devices for too long he does drink to blind away the pain. And when even that became too much? The vivid memory of standing before a building’s ledge on a roof top comes into view. The very same when he was just Accepted, standing at the side of the bone bridge when he was too blighted and fucked up to care anymore.

There’s a tighter squeeze. “Not necessarily.” He offers in the fact that Nate would be dead back in Korofi. It all depended on where he was from, what part. Sunjata’s life had been fucking hard and murderous from the start because nobility chose blood and death as some sort of sports game. But he nuzzles his head into Nate’s chest a bit more, ignoring any pain that might be felt in the adjustment where his stitches are, to give him his full attention. “You do, Nate.” He begins, refraining from looking up at him despite how much he wants to.

“I get… Really bad lows when things don’t go right.” His jaw clenches, because it’s also hard to talk about. “But ever since the volcano, I haven’t had a single one. You’ve helped me through all of it, even when I’m being quite an asshole.” There’s a small strained hum of a laugh that leaves him with that. “How can I show it to you more?” He asks, wanting some sort of middle ground they both can work on. Something he can try to do to make it easier for Nate.

SUNJATA

i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all

Nate is quiet, for a short moment, though it feels longer, maybe just to him. He knows, knows, without the shadow of a doubt, that Sunjata needs him. That they're tied together, by choice, by circumstance, by something beyond themselves it feels like some days. It's the kind of feeling that Nate can't even think about too much, because it's so big, so deep, that he doesn't actually know how. But it's not enough to stop this. It's not enough to know, because whatever has bubbled up is beyond it, is senseless and cloying and ridiculous.

The simple, stark response he gets when he says he'd be dead in Korofi makes him actually pause for a second, breaks through his struggling, through everything, and has a cough of a laugh leaving him. It's not a point he's going to argue, but if he wouldn't be dead, he's sure he'd be good as. Problems with authority, with keeping his head down, with being subtle, about the things he needed to be.

His head tips, cheek resting against the other mans crown now, listening to the words that leave him, how they seem to be just as forced out, but so much more helpful than Nate's have been so far. And it does, in some small way, for some short moment, help. "I didn't... I knew that, but I didn't notice that... it hasn't happened since." So much else has happened, and, for most of it, it's been so much happier, so much easier. A low hum leaves him, as he thinks about the words, casts his mind back to everything that had happened between them, from the volcano to now. Moments he can pick out as getting close, but nothing breaking apart, threatening to leap off ledges, since his initial confession, that first time, when he'd refused to leave.

"I don't know." Nate admits softly, one of his hands swiping down, along Sunjata's spine, still trying to offer comfort, to make up for the fact that it was him breaking down this time, that he was fracturing. "When... you came home, that night, and I stitched you up, all I could..." A pause, so he can swallow, force his voice into something neutral again, instead of the tight, shaking thing it had become. "I just thought about what I'd do if I lost you. If I did everything I could, did it all right, and it wasn't enough still. And there's this... this part of me, that thinks if I could keep you... here, or... somewhere else, somewhere with me, all the time, it'd be fine. And thats..." Another little, hysterical giggle, his voice actually cracking here. "That's fucking crazy. Right?"

NATE

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

In all honesty, he hasn’t had any lows like that. He’s been levelheaded just enough that things seemed to be going in the right direction – but danger always lurked, was always around the corner for the both of them, and Sunjata isn’t sure where exactly that leaves them when it comes to feelings like this. He nuzzles in closer, however, one hand raising to Nate’s hair to tangle in the dark long hair, pressing against Nate’s neck with it to offer that extra semblance of comfort where he can because he knows the Ascended can’t feel the gentle and tenderness he wants to give.

It’s more effort, but it’s worth it.

But his question is aired, how to help, what he can do – and he should expect it to travel back to the night he’d staggered in. And it was… Terrible, as much pain as it caused him, he could only assume it caused it more in Nate. And he finds himself so incredibly sorry for it, but unable to form the words for it – unsure if it might happen again.

And ah, ah. That’s where it comes from. There’s a moment of realization in the way Nate speaks, some correlation he can make at this very moment of Sunjata laying there, getting stitched up, if something didn’t work out, and he bled out – how similar and terrifying it must have been for Nate, dredging up some of those swallowed down memories of his brother. And it makes so much sense.

So he hugs Nate a bit tighter, against the protesting stitching that’s already inflamed, letting him finish without interrupting, hearing the crack in the voice and trying to offer some sort of normalcy. “It’s not.” He offers quietly, his accent a bit thicker as he opens his eyes and squints against the light that filters in through the window, to focus on the drying rack of dishes beside them. “I get it. I think that when Haai goes crazy and spouts fire like she does sometimes around you. I get like that when I wonder whether or not you’ll be out in the sun too long.” A deep inhale of a breath before it’s a soft exhale.

His head shifts a small amount, turning in a bit more toward Nate, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and tilting his head to rest his forehead against the column of the Ascended’s neck, fingers stroking through raven hair. “I’ll be okay, Nate. I’ll always come back home to you. I just… I can’t guarantee it’ll all be in one piece. And I’m sorry for that.” He offers softly, tilting his head up and closing his eyes again to press his lips to Nate’s neck. “But I’ll always be with you.” He hums against Nate’s skin, the thought of the scar across Nate’s hand coming to mind, of confessions made, of everything else. He was there, even if he wasn’t physically.

SUNJATA

i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all

At least one of them has grasped the reason for how affected he is, how deeply these tracks run. Nate himself hasn't realized yet that it's scars over scars, the undercurrent of hurt so close to the surface it's grabbing at his ankles. There are hands in his hair though, and a pressure on his neck, claws on his back, holding him on his feet, keeping him present, when it would be so easy to sink. Or maybe it's something more like the implacable guilt that swirls within his gut, for needing the support at all, for still wanting to sink despite all the work Sunjata is doing.

It brings more comfort to Nate than he could possibly express when Sunjata offers him the simple reassurance that the feeling isn't too much. Might be overwhelming, terribly seductive, but it wasn't abnormal. And he thinks about how loosely he takes his own life for granted, how many small things could end in disaster, in chaos, in the end of him. And a part of him starts to slowly settle, to calm down, leaving room for deeper worries to seep in, slowly rising out of the discontented and sick swirl of his chest to the back of his mind, waiting for the slightest provocation.

"I know... I know..." It's all Nate can get out, a quiet murmur, a mantra, in response to the reassurance, the apology. He doesn't understand why Sunjata is apologizing, when this is a him problem. But he knows the other man will stick to his word, will come home. And Nate will be there to put whatever pieces there are back together. Wherever home is, whether they stay here forever, or roam wide and far. They had agreed that much, whatever every other bond and tradition meant or didn't mean.

Always sparks something else, drags up something deeper, because it's not like this is something Nate can turn off. Not when it had taken so much to get him going. Nate starts to slip, literally, off the counter, shifting as much as he needs to to keep his face hidden, pressed against Sunjata's neck. His arms tighten as he falls still again, left hand clenched so hard around a scar that should still be a wound that he's shaking. Always for Nate meant forever, if he played his cards right. If he was lucky. Even if Sunjata was lucky, he didn't get forever. "You can't say that."

NATE

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

They’re both reckless in certain ways. It was just the fact that Sunjata could feel pain, could be taken down so easily that he understands where Nate comes from. But had the other man never Ascended, wouldn’t they be in the same boat? The same dangerous boat of being one foot in a grave and one foot ready to traverse the ground as quickly as humanly possible? They’ll never know, and Sunjata doesn’t need to know.

All he knows is that he’s sorry, that he’s become more reckless (or had he always been this way? Simply made worse with a new fancy job title and a thing to focus on?). He tries to reassure Nate regardless, the quiet mantra of ‘I know’ repeated back to him. And before long, Nate’s slipping from the countertop into him, keeping his face hidden and Sunjata keeps his own away from Nate’s. His head tilts to rest along Nate’s cheek as he burrows into the attuned’s neck. And his arms wrap tighter around him, inhaling Nate’s scent and committing it to memory – a current mix of smoke and coffee that’s both comfortable and so much like him right now.

But Nate’s quiet comment has Sunjata not quite realizing what’s happening. “Why can’t I?” He asks, quietly, before some sort of realization dawns on him and he stills. And then he has to think about his words, to think about what he’s trying to say. So he buries his head hard into Nate’s, pressing Nate closer to him with one hand cradling the back of the Ascended’s head. “I’ll be here, Nate. Always.” A quiet resolve coming over him.

He could spiral about that too, but he doesn’t. Instead, there’s almost a dark hidden rage with the idea of it, some kind of harder resolve that replaces any anxiety or worries he might have. “Immortality and gods be damned.” He utters quietly, a fierceness to his tone that hasn’t been there in years. “I’ll be here with you, you hear me?” They’ll make it work. Whether it’s trying to beg Safrin to fix Nate back into himself, if it’s even possible. Whether it’s begging Safrin to give him more time. He’ll do it.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He says quietly, a recollection to one of their first conversations when they’d gotten wrapped up into each other. “tot die einde.”

SUNJATA

i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all

There is so much of Nate that is so grateful for everything he has in the other man. For the easy, quiet way he just moves, shifting as Nate does, their eyes still not meeting, the ascended scraped far too raw for it still, so much so that his own thoughts feel like too much, like sandpaper scraping across the surface. The pain doesn't stop them, though they're senseless, nigh incomprehensible, drops of water in a hot pan, flashing, dancing, and fading.

Realistically, there's no difference between this time and the last, except for the positions, the roles reversed. It should be easy to let tears fall, between the hand on his head, the closeness, the fact he he's the one breaking this time, but Nate can't (won't?) let them. Can't dip that much into weakness, can't slip that much. But it has been a long time since he's had someone to hold him in the dark, someone who wouldn't let go. It's been a long time since he's had someone care for him exactly as much as he cares for them. And he doesn't know, exactly, how to deal with it, except to try and make up for it, for the fact that it's him on this side of it.

There's a steel in Sunjata's voice, clipping off his teeth and sparking something in Nate (would it be bad luck to say fire?), his shaking slowing, fingers spreading wide on the other mans back. "I hear you." He replies back, after a moment spent to find his voice, something more steady in it than there had been for a while. And, more importantly, he believes Sunjata, believes that the other man will move heaven and earth if he needs to, knows that he'll be right there, along for the ride or leading the charge, or whatever is needed to keep them together.

"I... haven't been so afraid of letting go of something, someone, in..." Nate shakes his head, pulls back, his hands dragging along Sunjata's back, his shoulders, creeping up along his jaw. They settle there a moment, blue eyes still facing down, those extra few inches the attuned has on him thanked and not cursed, for maybe the first time. "Tot die einde." He whispers back, hands rising to cover stormy eyes, Nate not quite ready to face those depths, but wanting, needing, to press a kiss against the other man.

He doesn't know if anything is resolved, doesn't know if it really can be. Sunjata will get injured, he'll get injured, and they'll more than likely find themselves in this dance, again, and again. It doesn't feel resolved. But he does feel lighter, just a little bit. Enough that, if the other man tried even a little bit, Nate's hands would move, show the stress drawn long over his features, the furrow between his brows.

NATE

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

He feels Nate calm beneath his embrace and his steeled words, the edge of the resolve cracking through as he intends it to. But he stays the same, not having his own spiral (he’s sure there will come a time where the rolls are reversed yet again) but for the time being? He’s levelheaded, calm, wants nothing more than to comfort his lover with everything he has and all he is.

He feels Nate shake his head, feels the hands that trail along his body, until Nate’s hand cups his jaw, but Sunjata keeps his eyes closed for him, keeps that extra distance until the Ascended gives him the okay. But his hands tighten in that raven hair of the doctors, pulling the hair a small amount through his fingers. “A while.” Sunjata replies softly, a bit more hoarsely as he bites down the resolve from before.

But Nate’s repeating their makeshift tradition, the Ascended’s hand rising to cover his eyes in a makeshift blindfold that he keeps closed regardless, and he lowers his head to press into the kiss. And even when Nate’s hand eventually leaves, opening up for a vulnerable look, Sunjata doesn’t indulge. Instead, he bumps his head into Nate’s ever so slightly, pressing a kiss to the furrowed brow, seeing through where he places his lips on the other man’s face until he’s trailing along a slightly fuzzed jaw to Nate’s ear. “I love you.” He breathes, dipping his head to Nate’s neck, pressing softer kisses to the soft space beneath the Ascended’s ear.

“And I’m yours. All of me, including the shitty parts.” There’s a light smile that crosses his face with it, soft and gentle as he presses a bit harder of a kiss once again. Perhaps opening up and admitting the shittier parts of him might help get Nate to relax even further. But all he can do is hope.

SUNJATA