(SE) a whisper in our ear, or a bottle for our fears

don't you know i'm no good for you?

Its yet another point where Sunjata finds himself holding his breath, waiting for the plan to backfire as so many of his plans had done before. But he tries his best, keeping the blankets nestled along Nate, one wrapped around himself and cocooning himself, if only to create that additional barrier to help prevent any accidents. And when he sees Nate’s eager look in his eye, Sunjata dives in entirely. His head rests on Nate’s shoulder, his vulnerability clear in the way he curls up, the way he nearly asks Nate to hold him.

But he doesn’t have to.  Because Nate already knows. Blankets shuffle around and theres one placed on the top of his head, and Sunjata doesn’t think he’s ever been more thankful for the touch, the way Nate’s head feels heavy atop his own, the way the arm wiggles around to try and wrap around him tight. And then? Not just one arm wraps around him, not just two, but even those bright staticky arms come around to hold him tight, too.

He sags into his husband, pressing his face into Nate’s chest, an arm snaking out to remain under the blankets and atop the ones he’s placed on Nate, tucking in around his husband’s side as far as he can reach to squeeze back. I miss you too. He manages though his tone is choked and he ends up burying his face into the blankets more. Ek is lief vir jou ook. He pauses, inhaling a shuddering breath. Ek het jou nodig. He manages, his words stumbling together but the implication clear.

He doesn’t care if it makes him sound greedy or selfish. Ek het nodig dat u my bymekaar hou. He bites his tongue against the apology that wishes to come, instead sending over all of his love and adoration and the underlying line of sorrow of just how much he needs Nate, how much he hates how he does things that continue to drive a wedge between them. But most importantly, that shining golden light of hope remains.

i've learned to lose, you can't afford to

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

It's not much, but its all they can have for now. A blanket wrapped, distant touch, and it has to be good enough while the both of them crack and crumble. Hands clench and loosen in the blankets, Nate trying to work out everything he wants in that simple, useless motion, instead of squeezing, instead of deciding fuck the pain and pressing them together anyway.

Ek weet, ek doen. Ek wil jou vashou. It's the only thing he's wanted to do for ages now, it's become the new beat of his heart. As far as he's concerned, the only wedge between them here and now is the one put there by his own hands Safrin, and her hateful influence on him. His head moves, lips searching for something safe to press against while his arms squeeze Sunjata tighter. Ek het nou net... How does he explain himself, how does he justify this? How can more distance sound like a good thing?

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Nate shifts just a little, just enough to be able to speak. "I don't want to stay and... and resent you. I can't do that to you." There are two warring sides in him, each gaining and losing ground without anything really changing for the last few days. Stay, or leave. Leave, or stay. "I have to know for sure." He wishes that his voice trembled. Wishes he could force more emotion into it, but he seems to have run dry, tears that had fallen earlier wiping him out.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

don't you know i'm no good for you?

Nate’s always had strong arms, but they’re even stronger now. He doesn’t know if it’s due to the extra arms, the becoming a demigod, the way that his husband had simply gotten bigger since the last time he’d seen him. Nate’s arms squeeze tighter and Sunjata’s happy and content to let him hold him for as long as he likes. He’s content to let Nate keep him held together like glue, only for the understanding and realization that he’ll have to fall apart again when he leaves.

There’s some bitter part of him that hopes Safrin can see just how much Nate has always meant to him, some part of him that hopes she’ll not go back on her word if the worst came to worst.

Nate’s words are nearly a balm, nearly a balm until they falter, and Sunjata nestles in closer, as if he might be able to become small, small enough that perhaps it might all go away and that Nate wouldn’t have to leave. But he understands, despite the warring that goes on within Nate. There’s a war within Sunjata too. And even if Nate’s exhausted and ran out of the raw emotion, wishing that his voice trembled, Sunjata meets it with his own shuddering breath, nuzzling of his head into Nate’s protected arms. “I know.” He says as his voice cracks and he swallows hard to try and fix it.

His lungs ache with the breath he holds, one that he tries to exhale slowly through his nose as he works his jaw, refraining from another apology. “I… I appreciate it.” He manages after a moment, pulling his head up from the nest he’s created in his husband’s arms to look up at Nate through a still glassy gaze. “It just… Dit maak al seer.” He pauses, brows pinching in an attempt to try and keep tears from welling again. Jy is nog nie eers daar weg nie.

i've learned to lose, you can't afford to

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

Nate feels his heart crack and shatter, his arms growing tighter around his husband. He wants to lean in, he wants to soothe away this hurt with a kiss, with simple, easy touch. It's how they helped things before, isn't it? How they cut straight to the bone without words. Words are so easy to get tangled up in, and neither of them have the skill to wrangle them. Dit maak my ook seer. Neither of them were escaping unscathed, but it would be worth it. It had to be. It had to be.

A shaking breath leaves Nate as he fights the urge to shift a single arm and reach up to brush away the tears. Instead, all he does is blink, hard, trying to clear his own gaze so he can commit everything on Sunjata's face to memory. Every scar, every freckle, every little line of stress and pain and worry. Just so he can compare it to when he comes back, just so that relief will be so much sweeter.

”Fuck, I wish I could kiss you.” The words force themselves out of a dry throat, regret threatening to choke Nate. He’s said these words before, meant them just as keenly, but he’s never felt them like this, and that realization alone is enough to bring tears back to his eyes.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

don't you know i'm no good for you?

It hurts him too, and Sunjata nods before he sniffs hard, keeping the tears from falling as he peers up at Nate and spies the tears there too. Perhaps it’s selfish, but the thought of them both being broken apart through distance becomes a quick bond that also connects them in such a way that Sunjata isn’t sure that Nate would decide to leave. Despite Sunjata’s overstepped line in the sand, something about this moment, almost seems to say that Nate would come back.

That he’d come back for good.

The forced words are heard as Sunjata wipes his face against the blanket that separates him and Nate, and he props his head up again, sticking his chin on Nate’s chest – feeling so incredibly small in his husbands arms, so vulnerable, and yet… Not afraid of it. “Could… Could it work through the blanket? Without hurting you?” He asks with a breathless whisper, red ringed eyes focused on his face while Sunjata’s arms squeeze Nate gently.

i've learned to lose, you can't afford to

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

This moment isn’t one that Nate’s ever dreamed of, not one that he’d ever imagined - gods know he’s not that fucking creative - but now that it’s happened, now that he can look down at Sunjata, feel the weight of him in his arms, it’s not a moment he thinks he could live without. He’s coming back. He has to, has to fix his head somehow and come back.

Just for the man in his arms.

A pause, like he’s thinking, like he’s weighing the cost. They’ve already snatched so much, what would one more touch do? And it had worked before, in that breath of anger. Nate is lithe to lighten the pressure around the attuned at all, but one slightly translucent arm flickers, a whisper of static on a screen, skipping the moments that would be spent on movement. Grabbing the corner of the blanket and pulling it up, Nate leans in, hesitating at the last moment. The hand fumbles, thinning out the layer of fabric between them until it’s two scant folds of the blanket. Still, Nate doesn’t move, leaving the last gasp of space between them to be filled by Sunjata.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

don't you know i'm no good for you?

In the meantime before Nate sets off, Sunjata can try and be creative, can try to figure out the loopholes of it – after all, isn’t that what he’d done when he was in the rebellion? Wasn’t this simply just a version of that? Rebelling against his own goddess for his love? His soul mate?

Absolutely.

The blanket corner is lifted with a staticky arm and Sunjata finds himself holding his breath again until his chest feels like it might collapse, the fabric spread out to block them from one another but still close enough to keep some semblance of feeling, and Sunjata waits – with that same bated breath and painful chest, until he thinks Nate’s ready for him when he surges in.

His lips press against the fabric that press against Nate’s own on the other side, and his chest creaks with the way his throat tightens and the breath of air that’s released is hot from how long he’d held it in. But gods if it isn't everything he wanted.

i've learned to lose, you can't afford to

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

Of course he’s ready. He’s expecting it, he’s braced agaisnt the feeing of it and it still makes him so weak that every muscle in him trembles and aches and burns in the sweetest way. It’s absolutely the bare minimum, and it is delicious. Less than a week passed and this is coming home, this is the taste of an addiction he’d tried to put down and still come back to.

Some small broken sound creaks out of Nate’s throat, pain and elation all at the same time. Ek het jou lief, he thinks, I love you, he thinks at the same time, over and under the Ti amo, every language he knows blurring together into a single overwhelming emotion. Nate can’t even believe it can fit through the bond, doesn’t think either one of them could hold it alone. It’s why they have each other, isn’t it?

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

don't you know i'm no good for you?

It’s so far and yet so close, the barrier that separates them, but it’s still enough that Sunjata can feel him, can focus on it, can try to drown out the roaring of everything else inside him except for the sound that creaks out from Nate, the mental I love yous over and over again, combining and tearing apart, and burning and blurring together.

It fills his pieces with something golden lined and sun bright. Hope. He presses against Nate harder, until he has to pull away, reluctantly, slipping to the side to press his cheek against Nate’s through the blanket, shuddering exhales of breaths leaving him as his shoulders tremble and he squeezes Nate tightly. I love you too. Ek is lief vir jou ook. His own thickly accented rumble again and again through the attuned bond. He presses in tight, trying to ensure the blanket is still accurately protecting Nate, and tries to bury himself into his husband, into the couch, as if it might hold them both up enough to last the time spent apart. Will you hold me through the night? Comes the quieter, hopeful request, something that has all alarms within him his father had beat into his head, ringing with a thousand bells. So vulnerable, so breakable in this moment, that all he can do is offer it to Nate and hope that it's enough.

i've learned to lose, you can't afford to

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

They drown each other out, back and forth into a cacophony, until the dam breaks and they need to pull apart. Already, it feels like too much distance, and Nate leans in again and again, his new arm moving with him easily to keep the blanket in place. Kisses rain down upon Sunjata’s cheek, his temple, the top of his head. A gentle, peaceful rain, with the warm weight of the blanket.

”Of course sonskyn.” Nate purrs, my sonskyn echoing immediately and automatically. A claim that he will stake again and again. But not here. The arms around Sunjata tighten just enough to be snug, aided by the return of the fourth to hold the attuned securely enough that he doesn’t move at all when Nate stands. Or while he walks to the stairs, unhurried pace carrying him calmly through the house, Haai rising to follow at his heels.

Into the bedroom. Pemota sits in her little sling, a silent judgemental guardian angle watching over them while Nate deposits the pair of them in the bed, and his false arms both move to draw more blankets around them, together this time.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

don't you know i'm no good for you?

Nate continues to pepper him with kisses, kisses that Sunjata doesn’t think he deserves (he never will) but he soaks them up like the touch starved, broken man that he is. He presses into every single one of them until his question is uttered, so incredibly selfish, he isn’t sure Nate will even agree, given the past few hours, past the last few moments of stripping themselves bare to one another in a way that they hadn’t so much before.

He doesn’t expect the agreement to come so swift, but there’s a pulse of love and so much adoration that seeps from him into Nate that he doesn’t notice the extra arms tightening at first. He’s kept his eyes closed, relishing in this moment, pretending that if he thinks hard enough that the blanket disappears and it’s just them. And then Nate’s lifting him and Sunjata tucks in tight, arms moving with the blankets to wrap around Nate’s neck, the blanket acting as if it were a scarf, and he presses his face into Nate’s chest. “Fuck, you’ve gotten so strong, Skatjie.” He manages with a weak, hiccup of a laugh through the rest of the tangle of emotions.

They make it upstairs in no time, though, Sunjata only managing a silent glance at Pemota before he’s in the bed and Nate’s with him. And he continues to let that vulnerability seep through him, so much so as he buries his face into Nate’s shoulder, over a blanket and stuffing the space between them with another. Small, vulnerable, fragile. But it doesn’t matter when it comes to his husband and his strong arms, the fact that it feels like when they’re together they could devour the world whole.

Perhaps they will.

i've learned to lose, you can't afford to

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

Lapping at the pool of love like a kitten, like some great tamed monster, Nate moves them upstairs. It’s strange, the places hilarity will seep in. Perhaps it’s a crack, some part of him already broken and only exacerbated by this, but a mirthless giggle leaves Nate, growing into something that shakes his shoulders in a matter of moments. He was strong now, wasn't he? I’ve been working out. He thinks unsteadily, another course of laughter working its way painfully out of him.

Nate has only just gotten himself control when they settle, Sunjata crushing against him. So small, so delicate, and Nate has never been so aware of how strong his arms really are before. Another kiss finds its way into a field of wavy brown hair, soaked down with rain.

You know I... Nate is speaking before he can stop himself, the thought on his tongue before it even glances at his kind. I used to be afraid I’d turn into my old man. A pause, where a breath should go, where he should maybe look away, or think about what he’s saying. Instead another kiss is pressed to his husbands head, this one lingering. I’m not afraid of that anymore. Not with you.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

don't you know i'm no good for you?

No you haven’t. Sunjata retorts with a huff of air that’s something close to a laugh, before he finds himself nestled in against Nate’s chest, so fragile and so small where the blankets separate them yet glue them together. He perks up with Nate’s question, one that’s mixed with the dotting of kisses into his hair, separated by the blankets and Sunjata finds himself melting more into his husband’s touch.

No? He asks, giving Nate’s middle a tight squeeze. You… Haven’t said much about him but from what I have heard, I don’t… I don’t think you ever could be like that. He manages, chewing at his cheek. His own words slip from him before he has a chance to stop them too, one that has him ducking his head a bit further into his husband’s chest.

There’s a sharp inhale of breath before it begins to unfold from him, muffled from the blankets. “I… Hope that I haven’t become like mine.” It’s a quieter admission, one that he nearly doesn’t want to say as he buries his face into the blankets more.

i've learned to lose, you can't afford to

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

He was... a fucking angry man. A shiver saunters down his spine, Nate hating the feeling that the fucking man still inspires in him, even now. He hadn’t always been so strong, had he? I know I... I get that same kind of crazy, stupid angry. It’s... why I beat up Remi. He has the decency to try and sound remorseful, though that only highlights how fake it is. He never, the word echoes with the force of Nate’s conviction, lifted a finger for anyone else though.

If he were a better man, if it was anyone other than Sunjata speaking, Nate would pretend he hadn’t heard the words, would have let them fade into silent worry, not sure what to say. He isn’t, and it is Sunjata, so instead Nate let’s a whisper that is as fierce as it is hoarse. ”You haven’t. You haven’t.”

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE