swimming in the murky water

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

There’s consolation in Nate’s response, an agreement that has Sunjata immediately calming beneath it. It causes the thundering heartbeat to calm ever so slightly beneath the pressure of Nate’s cheek to it, and he leans his head a bit to nuzzle into the dark hair – blinded already by the dark. Still, Nate’s right, and it causes a small huff of air to leave him, enough force to have the Ascended’s raven hair waving a small amount away from his lips. “Whether we’re okay or not, I’m glad.” He says quietly. “Because I’ll have you.” He rumbles softly. He keeps his eyes closed, face pressed in tight, arms tighter around the Ascended as he calms his racing thoughts, the alcohol that burns and churns within him making it somewhat hard to focus.

It’s a balm, because Sunjata isn’t one to walk away unless he has to. And even with arguments and spirals, danger and everything else, he can’t see himself doing it.

Even still, the question that leaves Nate, the bounce of shoulders with a shrug and the pure honesty has him stilling a small amount beneath it. His arms loosen a small amount around Nate, pulling back slightly to better look at his face, even if it’s still dark as hell. One of his eyes is swelling a bit more, but he doesn’t feel it now, doesn’t care with the suggestion. And the smile that crosses his face is both sweet, soft, surprisingly happy with how the events of the night had started.

“I want that.” Sunjata replies gruffly, wholeheartedly agreeing with the idea of it. After all, he’d already broken the promise he’d made to himself. The reminder was on his hand, even if he had no ring there. And then maybe it’s because he’s drunk, because he wants to have at least one scar with a good memory attached to it, he tries to search Nate’s blue eye. “Would you… Put a new scar over the other one?”

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine

This is what love should be. It doesn't fix anything, doesn't heal his face, doesn't heal the bruises on Sunjata, but it makes the horrors bearable. Makes them worth facing. A soft mumble of "I love you." leaves Nate, in Korofian and not, repeated into sun soaked skin so quietly that it's difficult to tell for sure when he really falls silent, when the sentiment is expressed more by arms than whispers.

There's a kind of swoop in his stomach when Sunjata pulls away, the fear of revealing too much, being too open, but it soothed by the smile on the attuned's face. And that single look is enough to remind him why he keeps choosing to stay. Why he keeps refusing to walk away. Because they get to this place, they build something back up together.

It sounds like a cliche, but this is the kind of thing he'd never expected to find, the kind of relationship he'd actively avoided. And yet, he'd found it here, easily.

"Yea?" Nate asks, almost unable to believe it, a breathlessness in his voice that should not be able to affect him. His hand clenches over a silvery scar, a physical reminder sure, a promise made, but not intentional. This is intentional. "I think... we both need a new one. We'll do it right. Together." Then, a pause, so he can lick his lips, so he can look into deep grey eyes. "If you want that." Nate can't quite muster a smile, but, maybe he can change his mind. Maybe, things will be okay. Maybe they can force it, just a little bit.

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

The Korofian that slips from Nate’s tongue is even more of a balm, proof that it’s a correct choice, that regardless of what kind of arguments and shit they get into, it’s worth fighting for. It’s that, that has his waves quelling further, slipping into a comfortable shift while they hold each other tight. “I love you too.” He says equally quiet, Korofian, an agreement and a softening edge to the harsh words of earlier.

But then he’s pulling away a small amount, the idea of another more official scar — dare he think a ceremony to accompany it? For rings that are more of an official, permanent one other than words? “Yeah.” Sunjata echoes quietly, listening as he makes his request for a new scar, a new time to begin again. But he doesn’t expect Nate to want one too, and he searches the blue eye despite the darkness in the attempt to seek out the lie.

He can’t find it though, and his arms lock around Nate’s back gently, keeping him anchored there as the thoughts hit him. “I want that.” He says through his bit of surprise, wondering when Nate had decided that this scar would be worth keeping after the other had his marred face, gouged and deep, to willingly want a shallower one for this. Perhaps it’s the meaning behind it, but he still can’t help himself from leaning forward, trying to pull Nate back into him to seal the deal with an official, yet gentle, kiss.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine

There's so many other things Nate wants to say, so much that he wants to get out. I'm sorry things are fucked up now. I'm sorry we have to keep doing this. That we had to do this in the first place. I don't want to lose you. He doesn't have the words for the ideas, not really, not in their entireties. And making a step towards better communication doesn't necessarily mean blurting out every babbling feeling that comes over him. Maybe he'd get there one day.

Nate shifts slightly in the other mans arms, a chill running down his spine at the answer. A tremble starts in his fingers, more to do with overflow of emotion than anything else, and he has to swallow before he can answer, a little senselessly. "I do too."

He gets maybe a second to wonder about the surprise that crosses the attuned's face before he's being drawn in, a magnetic pull that Nate can't resist. His fingers twist against Sunjata's skin as they kiss, trying to hold him tighter, pull him closer, though there's no more space between them. It's not the first time they've kissed since his attack, but somehow, it feels like it is, at least to Nate. The first one where he's completely in the moment, no distractions or darkness tugging at the back of his head, keeping him from submerging completely.

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

There’s a bunch of things Sunjata wants to say too – and perhaps there’s just not enough alcohol in his system to let them slip, to keep his tongue guarded enough to not say the wrong thing even if it feels right in this moment because of the worry that it might slip this conversation back to where it started. So he remains silent enough instead, his quiet comments echoing what Nate’s suggested, an agreement. An engagement of sorts.

It’s his turn to worry a small amount when he shifts slightly, and Sunjata can barely feel the slight tremble in Nate’s hands, the confirmation given in three easy words. It is surprising for the Attuned, surprising that he even wants to do this again. It had never been something he wanted, never been something he’d considered – but he supposes since he’s already broken that promise once… Well, what was a second time? A second time with someone that understood him?

So he dives in, his lips finding Nate’s, arms tightening around the other man as the Ascended’s own attempts to pull him closer. He ignores the split to his lip, the slight tinge of alcohol mixed with iron on his tongue, focused solely and wholly on Nate. But of course, he can’t have it last forever – his face slightly swelling enough that his nose is affected and it’s hard for him to breathe, so he pulls away, pressing a kiss to Nate’s cheek, lifting a hand to run through Nate’s dark hair. “I need to sit or lay down or something.” He begins with a breathless and soft chuckle, realizing that he’s suddenly really fucking exhausted. “It’s a long way down from up here.” He teases lightly but begins to reluctantly pull away – his hand seeking Nate’s out to head upstairs.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine

Maybe it's the cocktail of emotions, conflicting and celebratory, and maybe it's the iron tang clinging to Sunjata's lips, sweet and tempting, but Nate is reluctant to let the other man pull away. Not that that's a new feeling, but it seems so much more intense now, the urge so much more insistent. He doesn't want to lose that connection, rumbles out a quiet note of discontent, before sense catches up to him, before the touch in his hair and the kiss on his cheek soothes the huff. It doesn't stop the urge, not really, though he knows it's not the time for this particular kind of possessiveness.

Sunjata's words are distraction enough to have the ascended's arms loosening, to have him leaning back. "You need a lot of things, but laying down will be a good start." Nate retorts gently, easily reverting back into a doctor aggrieved by a particularly vexing patient. It's jokey and automatic in a way he hasn't been, enough of him soaring that he can ignore how things have changed in favour of how they've stayed the same. His hand is taken, fingers automatically squeezing against Sunjata's as he follows the attuned up the stairs, into the bedroom.

It's here that Nate pulls away again, going to grab a first aid kit, one of the many he'd squirrelled around the house. There's really not too much he can do for blunt damage like a beating, but it's an automatic response after the last few times. Even with his detour, he's back at the bedside just as Sunjata lays down, sitting at the edge and caging the other man in on the one side. "Can I just ask... I won't get, er, loud, again, but you... what happened was an accident, right?" He knows the answer, or at least hopes he does, but he wants to see the other man say it, wants it confirmed, so he can try and work out how exactly he's supposed to be feeling.

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

There it is. That familiar doctoring tone – the same one he’d held when he met him in the College three long seasons ago. And it’s that familiarity with it that has him easily grasping Nate’s hand, flashing a small but easy smile back his way, calmed surprisingly easy considering how everything had started. And soon enough they’re heading up the stairs. “I do.” He agrees to the statement of needing a lot of things, but in the end all his mind can muster is that he needs Nate the most out of whatever else he could possibly get or have or need.

The bed almost feels like a cloud as he sinks down into it after removing his shirt – the weight of the alcohol on an empty stomach making it easier to ignore the pain in his side over his ribs despite the red splotch seen there. It makes it easy to forget the pain to his face as it remains puffy from the swelling. And even though his eyes still aren’t partially shifted, he does his best to try and follow Nate around the room to watch as he returns with the first aid kid and sliding over a small amount to give him room to sit.

Steel eyes scan Nate as the question leaves, and he begins to bob his head a small amount in the start of his answer. “It was an accident. I didn’t intend to use it.” He offers at first before he’s sucking in a long and slow breath. “Apparently I was standing behind Zeph during the fight and the punch from the other guy ended up hitting me as he ducked. So I slipped into it to try and use the dagger to get everyone’s attention to disperse them, and when I lowered it to slip it back to my side Zeph was walking into me and walked into it.” He sighs, turning his head a bit to stare at the ceiling, closing his eyes. The whole ordeal was stupid, but he supposes it edges him a small amount closer to finishing Safrin’s quest.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine

Some things can't be rushed through, rushed past. Nate has to pause when he sits, has to devote enough time to looking at the other man, to memorizing this moment, this feeling. He's being watched back, he can feel it, but it doesn't rush him at all. The med kit in lap is ignored so Nate can shift, stretching over to press a kiss against the attuned's lips, gentle and too short. There's a handful of things he could do, a handful of ways to celebrate, but this isn't exactly the right mood, the right situation.

Just like that, Nate leans back, switching back to concern just so he had some kind of distraction. Logically, he knows Sunjata is fine, knows that anything serious would have been obvious ages ago, but it doesn't stop his hands from trailing down along the other's chest, ensuring the injuries were only skin deep.

Cool hands move over Sunjata as he offers his answer, Nate nodding along to the first half before it turns into a rambling story. He can't quite tell if it's him, if his head is still fuzzy, still pulled in a dozen directions by the switchback conversation they'd had downstairs, or if it's Sunjata, alcohol and stress twisting the explanation into something somehow complicated and vague. At least it settles Nate, his hands growing gentler as they move over bruises, cool and soothing. "Okay. That sounds like an accident." Really, he's going more by the attuned's tone, And then... he did this as payback?" That doesn't sound like something the recently stabbed would do, but he'd rushed past the details too quickly earlier, too immediately gripped by indignation and anger.

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

Sunjata stretches out and Nate’s there soon after, pressing a soft kiss that lasts far too short that he almost tries to prolong. But the Ascended pulls away and Sunjata can’t help the slight sigh of a whine that leaves his lips, settling into the touch instead – feeling the cool hands roam along his chest, along the rest of him to ensure that he hasn’t been hurt too bad. Slight hisses from bruises that form on his ribs, mixed in with his explanation of the incident in the form of rambles and stress and exhaustion and tension from earlier.

But his gaze remains on Nate for a while before moving to stare at the ceiling. “It happened so fast.” He offers a bit quieter, mulling it over briefly, tongue prodding the split lip. “Rumors went off in the crowd. I stayed to help Zeph a bit, though he was pissed. Rightfully so. But the rumors are fucking insane.” A huff of air leaves him in a small laugh of disbelief. “One of ‘em said I bit his arm off, another said I tried to cut him in half.” He sighs, reaching up with his free hand to rub at his temple.

“I was cleaning up the Slagveld when Jack and his dogs arrived to enact some sort of vengeance.” His jaw clenches a small amount before he turns his head to look back at Nate, steel gaze swimming in the inky black of the room as he tries to pinpoint Nate – reaching out with his other hand to try and rest it along Nate’s neck and shoulder, though his depth perception is off a bit as he misses initially and recovers by reaching a bit further out. “I’m sorry, again.” He says again, quieter.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine

As much as he wants to keep up his quiet, concerned image, Nate can't stop the twitch of amusement in his lips, the twist in his forehead pulling his brows together. "No one's going to believe that." He says easily, shaking his head. It was the kind of thing that became a local legend, maybe a shadow clinging to Sunjata's ankles. A joke, and a story for idiot criminals to tell each other before they hopefully thought better of whatever scheme they were int he thick of.

"What the fuck does Jack care?" Comes the immediate question, though he could probably hazard enough of a guess to not need to be told. There's only so many lines of work someone like Zeph can really be in, the only real surprise being that the other man was important enough to garner retaliation. A little sigh leaves him, Nate leaning in closer to make Sunjata's reach a little easier the second time around. He's careful to not lean against the other man too much, too aware of bruises to risk it.

Nate sinks down into the bed a little more, his legs coming up so he can lay in the scant amount of room beside the attuned, half hanging off but unwilling to put the effort in to climb over to the other side. "It was an accident." He repeats, pressing a kiss long on Sunjata's jaw, away from any visible bruises. "I know you're trying."

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

“Mmm I don’t know. Some of them seem like they might.” He offers with a twist of his lips, a slight attempt at a small smile despite his drunkenness. And he exhales a quiet sigh, growing a bit more serious as the question leaves Nate’s lips. “Because Zeph works for Jack. And because I have a deal with Jack.” He offers, jaw clenching momentarily. “Jack’s a smuggler, has a whole ring of it here. Told him I’d stay out of his shit if he kept it all together, but the Fingers being… Well, the way that they are, it’s brought them up here. And I don’t know who’s all involved with Jack so.” He sighs, reaching up with his other hand to rub at his bruised temple briefly.

“So I picked a fight that apparently had Jack’s name all over it, without realizing it.” A verbal contract, broken, just like that.

But his hand extends, reaching for Nate and missing at first before he finally connects with Nate leaning in closer – and it’s a balm he needs while he apologizes again and Nate sinks down, Sunjata shifting a bit to better accommodate him. After a few moments he realizes that Nate’s somewhat hanging off, and he reaches out with both hands to try and pull Nate to him, to roll and slip Nate over him to the other side where there’s more room – caring little for the bruises that bloom on his skin. He can barely feel them anyway. “I’m not doing a very good job, despite my tries.” He purses his lips slightly, but nestles in close.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine

"Maybe it'll make them think twice about fucking with you then." Comes the immediate counter, the quirk of his lips stretching into a proper grin, a smile that lasted only a handful of seconds before his face is sobering again, conversation slipping easily, too easily, away from the almost joking tone. "Well clearly he's not keeping his fucking shit together then, is he?" Nate huffs, anger flaring up again, but with a proper target, a rumbling growl. "He has no fucking right, if his people are making messes, or trying to get into things that aren't there place. Deals like that are a two way street." The growl in his voice is tempered to a kind of sneering obviousness, spewed into the air in lieu of his actual target.

He gets the chance to relax, to settle, to drop his hackles and lean into Sunjata. It's an awkward manoeuvre, not that Nate can bring himself to care about that, not when he's wired with concern for the other man, avoiding bruises and tender spots carefully. They settle quickly though, arms wrapped around bodies, legs tangling together easily, almost automatically. Another little habit making a comeback, after weeks of nothingness.

"I don't think anyone else ever really tried with me." Nate hums, shifting just a little bit more to stretch out comfortably. "Don't think I ever really wanted to try for anyone else either though." Arms stretch out to pull Sunjata close, to cradle him in against Nate's chest, his lips moving to press against the attuned's forehead. It's the easiest way he can think of to smooth out the pout, to keep them close. "I appreciate what you're doing."

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

“Maybe.” Sunjata concedes, lips pursing slightly as he considers it and realizes it might not work. Get some eyes staring at him, perhaps, but keeping him out of trouble? Unlikely. But he moves on and explains the whole ordeal with Jack, how this is all supposed to go, and he chews on the inside of his cheek as he silences himself to focus on Nate. “They are… But you know how it goes. Outlanders don’t know how it works.” A rise and fall of his shoulders before he exhales quietly. Usually the comment didn’t bother him, not until now. Not until he’d found the place he wanted to call home and suddenly didn’t feel as though he would continue to be welcomed.

But that’s beside the point.

He shifts Nate over with him, until they’re right in the middle of the bed and tangled up, until Nate’s pulling him against his chest and Sunjata’s head finds solace in the solid body beneath it. His eyes close, arm coming over to wrap around Nate and pull him tight, settling in once the Ascended stretches out and presses his lips to Sunjata’s forehead. “I’ll always try for you if you let me.” He responds, voice a bit deeper before his head is tilting up, steel eyes lifting to focus on the dark confines of Nate’s face. And he’s silent for a small while, trying to pick over his words. “So… Are we gonna have a ceremony? Or just the rings?” He asks quietly, trying to get on the lighter and happier conversation. Something other than the frustration and pain and exhaustion that slumber in his bones.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine

"Bullshit." Nate hisses, huffing out a sharp sigh through his nose. "It works the same way here as it does anywhere else." Maybe some of the details are different, but there's rarely a difference between work that takes place behind the scenes. It strikes him, far later than it should have, that maybe they're going about this wrong. Playing on a different field. After all, the smuggler has made it more than clear the kind of language he speaks. Why not meet him on his terms? As for the issue of outlanders and naturals... it's an old fight, and even if he had any ideas to alleviate the deadlock, he was not the person to try and fix things. All he could do was offer a hum of comfort, a surprisingly steady hand squeezing Sunjata's shoulder.

While they shift on the bed, growing more and more entwined, a kind of peace seems to settle over Nate, almost reluctantly after the struggle he's been having recently. How long will it last this time, when will it end, and be ripped away? Is this only coming because he has something, someone outside of himself to focus on? Is this always what he's going to need, always the point they're going to come to before he can have some kind of breakthrough?

Sunjata's words wash over him, grounding and soft and sweeping away the racing thoughts, the theories on theories on theories twisting over and over each other until Nate overthinks his way out of a moment of happiness. "I love you." Even with everything the words represent, the work they'd put in to get to that, the declaration feels like it could be more.

Leaning in, Nate's one eye meets the other man's steely gaze. There's still no cat-like flash, and he has to wonder if Sunjata can even see him, if he's more than a shadow. He's about to ask, to tip the conversation, the embrace, back into the arms of sweetness, of almost jokes and teasing smiles, but he gets beaten to the punch by a far better segue. "There needs to be some kind of ceremony, doesn't there?" Even what they'd done in the boxing ring had had a kind of ceremony to it, a kind of importance placed upon the moment, whether either of them called it out. "I guess... would you want other people to be there?" Really, Nate isn't quite sure how he feels, what he wants, the idea still too new for him to have put any thought in. Maybe, Clem, and Mel, but he's at a loss for who else would even want to come, who else he'd want to come.

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE