// and i hear your ship is comin' in, your tears a sea for me to swim in
and i hear a storm is comin' in, my dear, is it all we've ever been? //
and i hear a storm is comin' in, my dear, is it all we've ever been? //
He wants to believe Nate, wants to believe that he’d never be too much. But he’d been burned so many times before, it makes it tough for him to fully believe it. The laughter helps, as if it was something that Nate hadn’t thought of, as if it was asinine that Sunjata had suggested it in the first place. At the follow up, however, the Attuned can’t help but to offer his own quiet laughter with Nate’s, relaxing, soothing, letting this night be a good night. I certainly won’t stop you. An assurance, a recollection, until the end.
Nate could laugh for the rest of the night and Sunjata wouldn’t tire of it. The infectiousness of it, the way it feels refreshing, like turning a new page to something blank without the daunting sorrow that typically followed the happiest times. This is one he commits to memory, however, something to try and keep him sane while Nate’s off fighting monsters and he’s left alone in the cool dark of Torchline.
They shift and his hands run along his husband, the Attuned’s body supported in all the right ways. A shiver racks down his spine with Nate’s touch to his wing, a low hum that’s unintelligible leaving him with the sensation, the wing flares slightly and Sunjata’s back arches slightly, just enough to press into the body above him. And he’s given a bit of whiplash, a dazed one, focusing on the stubbornness and Sunjata’s quiet effort to draw it out, before there’s a rush that he hasn’t understood yet and likely won’t, because there’s teeth at his throat and electricity burning through him, and those fingers that have drawn patterns on Nate’s spine dig in, keeping the Ascended against him, a needy moan slipping from his throat, and his hand tightens in dark raven curls.
He sends the sensation back through the Attuned bond, with a shift of his hips pressing against Nate, while he burns and tries to bring the Ascended with him.
Nate could laugh for the rest of the night and Sunjata wouldn’t tire of it. The infectiousness of it, the way it feels refreshing, like turning a new page to something blank without the daunting sorrow that typically followed the happiest times. This is one he commits to memory, however, something to try and keep him sane while Nate’s off fighting monsters and he’s left alone in the cool dark of Torchline.
They shift and his hands run along his husband, the Attuned’s body supported in all the right ways. A shiver racks down his spine with Nate’s touch to his wing, a low hum that’s unintelligible leaving him with the sensation, the wing flares slightly and Sunjata’s back arches slightly, just enough to press into the body above him. And he’s given a bit of whiplash, a dazed one, focusing on the stubbornness and Sunjata’s quiet effort to draw it out, before there’s a rush that he hasn’t understood yet and likely won’t, because there’s teeth at his throat and electricity burning through him, and those fingers that have drawn patterns on Nate’s spine dig in, keeping the Ascended against him, a needy moan slipping from his throat, and his hand tightens in dark raven curls.
He sends the sensation back through the Attuned bond, with a shift of his hips pressing against Nate, while he burns and tries to bring the Ascended with him.
anchor up to me, love. anchor up to me, love. anchor up to me, love
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
