NATE
i would do anything for you to love me,
like i'm an american hero, baby
like i'm an american hero, baby
“Shhhhh.” Nate responds to the words that don’t come, pulling Sunjata’s head in against his shoulder. Lips press in against his crown, arms real and staticky wrapping around Sunjata until he’s cocooned. He’s trying to be too much. A season gapes, empty and echoing, between now and the last time they’d touched, and that is a hole too big to fill with a dozen small gestures. Fingers card through hair and feathers both, Nate refusing to let any part of himself fall too still right now.
A long breath draws in through his nose, Nate filing his lungs with the heavy, calming smell of his husband before he even tries to open his mouth. It’s not a conversation he wants to have. It’s one they need to have though. “No matter what happens, sonskyn, you have to keep living. For me.” Even as the plea leaves him, Nate feels a prick of guilt for the selfishness of his words, for the burden he lays on Sunjata’s shoulders. “One of us has to.” A kiss presses into his hair, a soft sound leaving Nate’s throat.
“I’m here.” He mumbles, nosing at Sunjata’s cheek to try and press their foreheads together again. Nate wants his hands on his husbands face, wants to feel the weight of his gaze, his emotions. “I’m here now, and we have time. We have time and I have you and it’s okay.” The hysterical edge in Nate’s voice is familiar by now, desperate and scared and hiding away from those facts. “Right? Darling, tesoro, right? Everything’s just fine.”
A long breath draws in through his nose, Nate filing his lungs with the heavy, calming smell of his husband before he even tries to open his mouth. It’s not a conversation he wants to have. It’s one they need to have though. “No matter what happens, sonskyn, you have to keep living. For me.” Even as the plea leaves him, Nate feels a prick of guilt for the selfishness of his words, for the burden he lays on Sunjata’s shoulders. “One of us has to.” A kiss presses into his hair, a soft sound leaving Nate’s throat.
“I’m here.” He mumbles, nosing at Sunjata’s cheek to try and press their foreheads together again. Nate wants his hands on his husbands face, wants to feel the weight of his gaze, his emotions. “I’m here now, and we have time. We have time and I have you and it’s okay.” The hysterical edge in Nate’s voice is familiar by now, desperate and scared and hiding away from those facts. “Right? Darling, tesoro, right? Everything’s just fine.”
star-spangled in my manner, shaking
every man's hand in the presidential manor, you see
every man's hand in the presidential manor, you see
