i don't know where home is, but i suppose it's anywhere i go that's any good at all
"Jata, if you don't say something stupid, you're not feeling it." There are stories he could share of the stupid things he'd done, stupid stories and ideas that made absolutely no sense sober. "It kind of is a fucked up smoke." Nate laughs as he holds it out. "Back when me and Bart were uh... fuck, around fifteen? There was this old guy who lived a few doors down from us who always gave us shit for smelling like jazz cigarettes. Tried to call the cops on us once." Even now, it brings a grin, a boyish lightness to his face that does not and will not accompany most other memories, but he's just dipping his toes in for now.
Regardless of how it had come out, the if you can had been meant as a warning, one that goes unfortunately unheeded, Sunjata coughing and sputtering after only a moment. Nate tries to hold in a laugh, and fails spectacularly, but he still reaches out to take the joint from the other man, his other hand patting the attuned's back. "Guess ya couldn't." Comes the sly tease, his own accent stronger as this starts to feel more and more like where he'd come from, trap houses and shitty living rooms. "It burns a little different than a smoke, you gotta watch out."
While he waits for Sunjata to recover, Nate lifts the joint to his own lips, pulling on it smoothly and holding, a feat made far less impressive by the fact that he can't be affected, doesn't need to breathe. "C'mere." He purrs, reaching out to pull the attuned in close, a deep kiss pressed against him, teeth, then tongue, then a breath, the smoke a little smoother like this, without the direct burn. When he pulls back, he doesn't go far, his arm still around Sunjata's shoulders, electric eyes watching his face carefully. The joint still burns between his fingers, filling the air with a thin smoke, a noticeable smell, but this should be more than enough for the other man to feel something.
Regardless of how it had come out, the if you can had been meant as a warning, one that goes unfortunately unheeded, Sunjata coughing and sputtering after only a moment. Nate tries to hold in a laugh, and fails spectacularly, but he still reaches out to take the joint from the other man, his other hand patting the attuned's back. "Guess ya couldn't." Comes the sly tease, his own accent stronger as this starts to feel more and more like where he'd come from, trap houses and shitty living rooms. "It burns a little different than a smoke, you gotta watch out."
While he waits for Sunjata to recover, Nate lifts the joint to his own lips, pulling on it smoothly and holding, a feat made far less impressive by the fact that he can't be affected, doesn't need to breathe. "C'mere." He purrs, reaching out to pull the attuned in close, a deep kiss pressed against him, teeth, then tongue, then a breath, the smoke a little smoother like this, without the direct burn. When he pulls back, he doesn't go far, his arm still around Sunjata's shoulders, electric eyes watching his face carefully. The joint still burns between his fingers, filling the air with a thin smoke, a noticeable smell, but this should be more than enough for the other man to feel something.
NATE
