NATE
Haai’s head comes to rest on his knee, completing the circle of their little family, a hollow throbbing in Nate’s chest making his smile quake. Despite everything, the troubles they can’t seem to stay away from, he’s happy, so happy to be here. He manages to tame the rush of emotion he wants to send over when he answers, manages to hold back and keep from overwhelming Sunjata. Ek wil graag vir jou lekker wees. His tight hold on his emotions slips when he finally lifts his gaze to the dilated steel, his smile more than big enough for the both of them. Jy verdien dit.
What what? Uncertainty keeps Nate quiet, for the moment, waiting to see if Sunjata can sort himself out on his own, or if he needs help. Besides, before he even gets the chance to try to explain about his laugh, or repeat his words, the attuned is speaking, his words warming parts of Nate that only ever seem to warm for his husband now. You're so fucking sweet when you’re high, I should do it more often. Another soft huff of laughter leaves him, growing easier by the breath.
As much as some inner voice screamed at him to be professional, to be sensible, he can’t help but grin, easing just a tiny bit as his husband begins to flow along with the substances in his body, something in his mental voice shifting, just slightly. Nate isn’t sure what it is exactly, too preoccupied with the actual words to focus on the tone. I didn’t know that. But he could have guessed, and he knew where the tale ended up, even before it left Sunjata. My dad tried raising dogs for a bit too. But puppies, and me and Bart, ended up being too much for him.
A soft grin crosses Nate’s face as he pulls the attuned closer, as slowly as he can to try and keep from actually alerting Sunjata. Pemota squirms, pulling herself free and settling instead across their shoulders, her warmth and starlight even brighter now that she’s comfortable. Your mother sounds nice. Nate mocks mimics the haughty tone that’s crept into the other voice, now that he’s pinned it down. He knows it’s a dangerous thing to bring up, bright eyes locked on Sunjata’s face, looking for shadows or ripples, any sign that he needs to pull back.
What what? Uncertainty keeps Nate quiet, for the moment, waiting to see if Sunjata can sort himself out on his own, or if he needs help. Besides, before he even gets the chance to try to explain about his laugh, or repeat his words, the attuned is speaking, his words warming parts of Nate that only ever seem to warm for his husband now. You're so fucking sweet when you’re high, I should do it more often. Another soft huff of laughter leaves him, growing easier by the breath.
As much as some inner voice screamed at him to be professional, to be sensible, he can’t help but grin, easing just a tiny bit as his husband begins to flow along with the substances in his body, something in his mental voice shifting, just slightly. Nate isn’t sure what it is exactly, too preoccupied with the actual words to focus on the tone. I didn’t know that. But he could have guessed, and he knew where the tale ended up, even before it left Sunjata. My dad tried raising dogs for a bit too. But puppies, and me and Bart, ended up being too much for him.
A soft grin crosses Nate’s face as he pulls the attuned closer, as slowly as he can to try and keep from actually alerting Sunjata. Pemota squirms, pulling herself free and settling instead across their shoulders, her warmth and starlight even brighter now that she’s comfortable. Your mother sounds nice. Nate mocks mimics the haughty tone that’s crept into the other voice, now that he’s pinned it down. He knows it’s a dangerous thing to bring up, bright eyes locked on Sunjata’s face, looking for shadows or ripples, any sign that he needs to pull back.
Deep down, it hurts to know
How bad I wanna call it quits
How bad I wanna call it quits
