swimming in the murky water

SUNJATA

the flood

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

Sunjata would like to agree – he does agree to some extent within him, but he can’t air it. Doesn’t want to, wants to relish in the anger and frustration and have that in common rather than the anger sprouting between the both of them. And it’s a nice change, as he’s shifting Nate to settle in against the Ascended – letting the familiarity of this wash over him. It’s a satisfying balm, and with the darkness it’s almost as if things are back to normal. As normal as they can be, considering everything that’s happened tonight. He can pretend the scar isn’t there, can pretend that Nate is as he had been before, listening for the familiar tone of his voice, the playfulness underneath it.

A hand moves up from where he’s wrapped it around Nate to rest along the Ascended’s chest, searching in the dark for the star necklace he’d gifted the other man, hoping to brush his fingers along it as his question is aired and his head lifts to where he thinks Nate’s eyes are, helped only by the way Nate’s own head tilts down. At least Nate can see him, the smile that blooms across his face. “I think my mother would kill me if I didn’t.” He rumbles, a joke of sorts. It’s not like he’ll see her again, not in Mort’s realm if his information is to be believed. But that’s a sad thought, so he shifts on, smile curling into something infinitely more amused.

“I also think that Melita would kill me if she weren’t invited. She nearly burned Phoebe’s and my wedding down.” He snorts to that, shifting a bit to brush his cheek along Nate’s shoulder. “I should’ve let her.” A quiet hum of a laugh to that. “But… Hotaru should come. We can hold a reception for whomever else wants to come?” He raises a brow, half debating between gesturing to the home around them and all the space it had to offer specifically for hosting and partying.

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

Nate watches the smile bloom across the other mans face, a rare flower that's just for him, that no one else will ever get to see, and smiles to match it, feeling it stretch his face in a way he hasn't felt in far too long. "Well then we don't have a choice, do we?" He teases. "On the beach maybe? Or one of those dumb little islands?"

The snort pulls a similar sound from Nate, a choke of a laugh as he rushes to say "You should've let her." in the same moment Sunjata does. And he manages something a little closer to a real laugh again as he realizes what happened, the edge of it still curling his words when he speaks. "At least you didn't suffer through it long." His hand comes up to barely trace along the swollen edge of Sunjata's cheek, fingers moving away quickly to smooth along his back instead. "Hotaru has to come." He agrees quickly, easily. "Clem too." Was there really anyone else though? Anyone else he cared enough about to invite to something so monumental? Not here, not alive still.

"The house should be big enough for a reception, right?" While it's easy to imagine more people would show up for a party, Nate's still having a hard time actually bringing to mind faces. "Lucky for us, I've got an in with a guy who owns a bar."

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

It’s a boyish grin that spreads easily across Sunjata’s face – something small and soft, rare and bright. And he can feel the slight shift in Nate as well, unable to see it, but imagining the smile that spreads across the Ascended’s face as second nature. “Hmm, the beach.” He offers with a slightly crooked shift of his smile. “What if we wanna go back?” A light tease, a memory of the moving islands with the turtles on it, snorting lightly.

But then he’s nestling in a small amount more, sharing his chime of drunken laughter with an entirely sober Nate, brushing his cheek against Nate’s shoulder as he hums lightly in agreement. “Thanks to you.” He murmurs lightly as Nate’s hand comes up, eyes fluttering closed briefly at the soft touch before the hand moves to his back again. “I figured Clem was a given as much as Melita was.” He rumbles, moving to open his eyes again and focus on the shadowed figure.

And onto talk of the reception, he manages a slight nod of his head – slow to not dizzy himself up. “Oh, do you? Free drinks then?” He teases, falling into old habits easily. “He’s gotta be good, though.” And even if he can’t see Nate, he still winks his way, letting that playful grin spread across his face again.

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

”Well it’s either the beach, or the volcano, and the beach is right there.” An arm rises to gesture vaguely in the direction of the ocean, the gesture itself more important than the information it wouldn’t share in the dark. The attuned does make a good point, Nate humming loudly to highlight a moment of thought where all he really thinks about is that same moonlit stretch of beach, those same baby turtles. ”Maybe we’ll put a mark on it. Or anchor it down. Something.”

It might seem like a given, but it’s important to Nate to actually say the younger ascendeds name, to make sure he’s included in whatever it is they do, however they decide to include people. ”What else was I supposed to do?” He lets the response sit for a moment, gives off the impression that he’s going to be romantic, then follows up that statement with ”When an unbelievably hot guy asks you to fuck him, you fuck him.” Usually, it ended there, not in a proposal, but gods there was nothing in the world Nate would trade this for.

”Might have to do a favour or two,” Nate lifts his hand and jerks it towards his mouth, hoping the (literally) tongue in cheek gesture is understood, ”but I can get whatever I want from him. It’s like he loves me or somethin’.” It feels so good to joke like this, to laugh like this. To lean in and press his lips against Sunjata’s in a long, hard kiss, the angle a little awkward.

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 volcano?” Sunjata whines a small amount, almost as if he’s exasperated with the thought of it. He can feel the gesture of Nate’s arm, however, and does manage a soft chuckle regardless of it, settling in with a small shrug as he tilts his head back. “Anchor down an entire island? A marker could work…” He mumbles before the conversation is shifting and his attention returns to the shadowed panes of Nate’s face.

As for the next comment? Well, it hits him a bit later than it should have – and when it does, perhaps it’s because of the darkness that surrounds them, but a small flush grows along his neck and along his cheeks, a huff of a breathy alcohol filled laugh leaving him. “I guess you do.” He agrees, unable to come up with something witty for that, not typically one to receive compliments and affections like that, put that bluntly.

It’s easier, for the next comment, to pretend that he’s not talking about himself – that they both aren’t. “Favors? Sounds greedy.” He teases easily, feeling the way Nate’s hand shifts, imagining the way he’s likely pointing to his mouth as he snorts. As for the next comment? He’s halfway between trying to form the mention of pretend feigned jealousy before Nate’s shifting and crashing his lips into Sunjata’s, and the attuned doesn’t even care about the slight pressure to his split lip, the tinge of iron beginning again. Luckily for him, the alcohol does wonders to numb the rest of the pain, and so he gives in, just as hard, shifting a bit to better fix the angle as he readjusts himself to prop himself up on an elbow – drowning himself in as much of a passionate kiss as Nate’s been willing to since the attack.

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

Teasing brings the reaction he'd wanted, the whine in Sunjata's voice drawing a proper chuckle from Nate, every moment spent in this bright, happy interlude pulling him closer and closer to an unmarred man, to the person he'd been before this. The one who'd been missing. "Something small, then? Just for us." It's the last suggestion he makes, thoughts of something not unlike a grave marker, solid and stone and a little bit morbid. Maybe too morbid. The easiest way to ignore the thought is to drop it completely though, and move on to the next.

The delay in Sunjata's response, the flush of his neck, none of it goes unnoticed. None of it does anything more than spur Nate on. "Maybe I didn't love you then, but I would have done a lot that you asked of me." It's a murmur, honesty, openness coming easier now. "Now though, I think... I think I'd do anything for you." A statement that doesn't need an answer, that Nate is happy to rush past, to keep it from being commented on. It's easier again to shift the topic, to talk about a stranger. To let out a rough laugh. "I think he can afford to be a little greedy." It's the last thing he says before crashing forwards, pressing a hard kiss to the other man.

Nate's tongue brushes against the split of iron in the other man's lips, a soft sound leaving him at the taste, the hunger it awakes in him. Arms move to help support Sunjata, to pull him close and tight, less worried about bruises, more worried about running his hands over a too long ignored body, fingers pressing under clothes. He's loathe to pull away, when he finally does, lips dragging along the attuned's cheek, his jaw, settling in the space under his ear, at marks that are far too long healed.

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

A silent agreement, something that they’d know and likely only them, when the islands come around once more. And it works, soothes the worry within him, makes the romantic within him soften at the idea of it. And he’s focusing instead on the compliments, the affection audibly given that he’d otherwise shy away from. It’s easier for him to see them, to acknowledge (or not acknowledge them) rather than hear them aloud, be expected to answer. But he can’t, not with Nate right here. Nor does he find he wants to as he considers it.

“I’d do anything for you, Nate.” He says quietly instead, before he’s commenting about the stranger, how easy it is to pretend, and before he has a moment to add anything more, Nate’s lips are crashing into his and he’s shifting to make it easier, to dive in and drown himself in what has felt like an incredibly long drought. Nate’s tongue brushes against the split lip, though Sunjata doesn’t feel it much, a small hint of a growl passing through him as he hears the sound and the eagerness that awakens within Nate.

He doesn’t want to pull away either, not as Nate’s hands are roaming and Sunjata’s shifting to better accommodate the way Nate pulls him in as well as dives beneath his clothes. He manages to find a space for his own hands, braced on either side of Nate, lowering himself close to let one of his hands trail and tangle into the long dark locks. “I missed you.” A soft purr, a soft need as he tilts his head to give Nate more access to his neck, to healed scars, a breath sucked in idle wait. And his lips find Nate’s skin, wherever he can reach, planting sharp edged kisses while the hand tangled in Nate’s hair tugs him closer.

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

"I missed you too." There's an edge of sadness in the words, an apology, almost. They should never have left this place, should never have gotten to the point where they were missing each other in the same house, the same bed. He should never have gotten to that point. But Nate was back now, he felt better, he was better, and he had a lot to make up for now. He had things to make up just for from just tonight.

Not that any of that was really a conscious thought. Was anything more than a decision, made in the split second between his words, and his teeth sinking into Sunjata's neck. How is he supposed to resist? Pulled close like he is, pressed hard against the other man like he is.

And Nate’s missed this. Missed the shock of pleasure, the way it pulls groans that he can’t control from him. His hands twist and tighten against Sunjata’s skin, wanting to leave his own marks, finger prints and nails wanting to leave a mark, leave his mark.

This is another thing he doesn’t want to pull away from, though he can’t actually convince himself to do it this time, can’t pull away. How long has it been since he’s fed? Since he’s felt like this?

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

This is how it goes for them, isn’t it? A space where they almost (or do) break and held together just enough to finally come back together, to hear the other out in the fears and anxieties they’re too terrible with words to say before it reaches the boiling point. But for all the highs and lows, Sunjata realizes they’re can make it through all of it — tonight especially, when neither had pushed the other away fully, and admitted that they were just simply lost. At least Sunjata was, lost for what to do, how to help.

He doesn’t realize when the last time Nate had visited the shrine, when he’d last bit from Sunjata. But it feels like ages ago — too long, his mind tacks on. So there’s no complaint, the exact opposite as the fangs sink in and Sunjata’s overcome with the sensation as it pours into his veins like lightning. Automatically, his hips roll, the prior purr exchanged for a growl as he tightens his fingers into Nate’s hair and pulls a bit more, the other hand moving to trail along Nate’s side with the claws as he always does, pressing back slightly against the pressure and nails Nate applies into his skin.

But there’s almost a more frantic sense with this that he can gather despite the need to give in. Because Nate hasn’t pulled away yet, hasn’t been that rough yet gentle typical bite that Sunjata was used to. All he can do is roll with the waves, hips pressing in against Nate, head tilting to offer more, overwhelmed and electrified all the same.

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

The screaming argument, the dull haze of his day, even the tangle of dark feelings in his chest all fade away in favour of the bite, the feelings it gives him. Nate is usually surprised by it, the intensity, but now, it feels like so much more, like a starving mans first taste of food. It only seems to make him more desperate, his touches growing rougher, more insistent. Claws in his side pull a deeper sound from him, a rumble that seems to vibrate through his body, while the fingers in his hair coax out a proper growl, Nate shifting all at once against the other man, moving without pulling away.

Flipping them should be harder. Should feel like more of a hassle, or more difficult, or something. But it isn't, and it doesn't, and it feels like he was made to drape over the other man, made to press against him, his leg between Sunjata's and his mouth on his neck and his hands everywhere in between, as long as they're touching bare skin.

He doesn't want to pull away. He wants to lean into the bite and the touches and take everything Sunjata is going to give, everything that he can. Logistically though, Nate has to move, just to lessen the clothing between them. It's slow, unwilling the entire time, but as soon as he pulls away, the near overwhelming pleasure cuts off, though that doesn't stop his hips from rolling, or his nails from dragging up along the attuned's body, pulling his shirt with them. Instead of biting again immediately, like he wants to, like he feels like he should, Nate leans in to press his lips against the old bitemark, the older scars.

"I love you." The words are pressed into Sunjata's skin, for his ears only. Another almost apology, before Nate's teeth sink in the second time, and he loses himself in the feeling again, loses himself in everything the other man gives.

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

This was a different sort of bite — before it had served its purpose entirely under the fact of pleasure and power. And now? Now there’s something almost feral about it, in the underlines of the way hands grow rougher and Nate’s desperation can almost bleed through it. It’s really the only thing Sunjata notices over the waves of pleasure, of growls and groans leaving him and meeting Nate’s own, his body pressing himself against Nate with panting breaths and far more insistent claws.

He realizes in that moment, that the shift in Nate stems from the fact that he hasn’t fed or bitten or anything — he realizes it as he’s being pushed back against the bed, teeth still buried into his neck, overwhelmed and stimulated and burning. But his hands remain along Nate’s side, tangled in Nate’s hair until he has to move it to help remove the rest of their clothes. And it’s a welcome reprieve when Nate pulls away — a mix of the alcohol in his system and the hazy daze of pleasure blinding his senses as he pants for breath, rolling his hips against Nate and the leg placed there, attempting to prop himself up a small amount to get the shirt to lift with Nate’s help.

He’s ready to toss it over the side of the bed, to feel Nate’s hands leave their marks along with the rest of the bruising and splotched scarred skin on his body. But he manages it, between his one track mind, leaning back in a haze of lust and blankets and his lover draped over him with the promise of something more lingering within him. Lips are pressed to old scars and the attuned can feel his chest heaving with anticipation, lips parting as his clawed hand runs along Nate’s side — stumbling and recovering as soon as Nate’s teeth dig in again.

“I… Love you too.” He manages through his panting, his growls, his groans as his hips shift again in his desperation, his other hand rising to Nate’s shoulder blades and pressing claws there too, keeping Nate as close as can be, eyes shutting tight and body burning without an end in sight.

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

A rough moan ripped through Nate as the electric connection of the bite flowed through him again, his first taste only making him more desperate to not let go. Maybe, if that was it, if it was the feeling in a vacuum, he could control himself, could tell that this was too far, that he needed to pull away. It wasn’t though. Claws drag up his side, dig into his shoulders, holding him down while Sunjata presses up.

For once, that carefully held thread of control is gone, washed out of Nate’s hands, the words that breathe out of the attuned the final wave washing over him, sending him out untethered into dizzying waters.

A hand moves to grab the claws running up his side, Nate pinning the arm against the bed instead. He shifts around, easily now, settling between the attuned’s legs properly while his other hand drags down, squeezing at a hip as a detour before fingers press into Sunjata’s waistband. Nate’s own hips keep moving, keep rolling into the other man, a frantic prelude to his urges.

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

If there’s one thing Sunjata can focus on right now, it’s the electricity sparking in his veins, the overwhelming sensation that numbs everything else. It numbs the frustration of the earlier part of the evening. It numbs the pain and bruising to his body. It numbs whatever hurt is harbored in his heart for having not told Nate about the fight earlier than now. And there’s this connection yet again, the intensity of it after what had felt like ages since Nate’s been alive and wild like he is tonight. It takes Sunjata by surprise, the overwhelming sensation growing brighter in his veins and his body, but as he said earlier, he’d do anything for Nate. If he wanted to drink him dry, Sunjata would let him.

The steady control is lost, and Sunjata’s simply along for the ride, bodies pressed close and throaty moans slipping from his throat, sweat beading up on tattooed skin as Nate grabs one clawed hand and pins him down. There’s no fight in Sunjata, none to challenge and try to be that rebellious soul he is deep down. All of this goes on instinct, while his head remains dizzy between the alcohol and the fangs buried in his neck. He’s easy to maneuver, to shift wherever Nate wants him to be, primal desire driving him to hissing in an odd mix between need and want.

Nate’s hips only add to the frustration that keeps him fully from his lover, and the most he can do with his mind entirely occupied is to press his hips back up against Nate, hoping it’s enough to slip the boxers off, to relieve at least that pressure of the bulge within. “Now fuck me.” A throaty growl, the only thing he can think or do. The claws at Nate’s shoulders move to his spine, digging in now as he trembles and shudders – absolutely unable to do anything else while his mind swirls.

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 are few things that could distract Nate away from the sensation coursing through him, from the blissful taste and feeling of the bite, and one of them had just slipped from between his lovers lips, changing his priorities quickly. He might not feel the physical need anymore, but he still couldn't resist indulging others. Indulging Sunjata, specifically.

He manages to do more things in a moment than even he really expected, pulling back and shifting, despite the claws that dig into his back, Nate moving too quickly to give the other man a chance to move with him. Fingers grab at Sunjata's waistband, pulling down everything roughly, without concern for the fabric, how it might pull. The wrist pinned against the bed is released, Nate's eyes staring at the hand, wondering if just his gaze will be enough to keep it pinned, or if it will reach out towards him. His newly empty hand rises to his lips, a sharp tooth opening a spot on his thumb so he can spread fluid over his fingers.

Nate settles again, low enough between his lovers legs that he can easily press kisses, and teasing nips to Sunjata's hips, his thighs. One hand stretches up, reaching to guide the claws back to Nate's shoulders, while the other wraps around the attuned's cock, fluid slick fingers stroking easily, languidly. The touch only lasts a moment though, a prelude, a touch more foreplay, before the hand falls away, falls lower, pressing against Sunjata's ass. There's a moment of hesitation, of actual conscious thought in Nate, before he looks up, trying to find steel eyes. He presses his finger in, just a little bit, enough to try and give something to get used to before he presses in more. And there's another moment of hesitation, Nate wanting to be in the moment completely for this newest first.

i couldn't get the boy to kill me

but i wore his jacket for the longest time

NATE