NATE
i would do anything for you to love me,
like i'm an american hero, baby
like i'm an american hero, baby
“I do my very best.” The words carry all the solemn weight of a promise, even underneath the breathless rush of them. Nate can’t stop himself from sinking down after his husband, capturing that smile in a kiss that he stretches out as long as Sunjata will let him. Real hands follow the attuned’s sturdy arms, trailing fingertips winding around his wrists while static hands move over his body, a teasing tingling touch, save for one still firmly wrapped around a spiralling horn, holding Sunjata’s head still.
For a single second, Nate thinks about pinning Sunjata’s wrists down, about holding him down to the bed and keeping him there. Maybe forever. Maybe just until he’s satisfied that every ounce of his love has been pressed in to Sunjata’s skin, his bones, his blood. Until he’s sure that every thump of his still beating heart whispers Nate.
Just a second though. The next one reminds him how unfair that would be, how upset he’d be if he couldn’t touch Sunjata after a season. Gods, he still can’t fully swallow that knowledge, Nate holding the time in his mouth and running his tongue over the sore it’s made, a constant reminder that he makes worse every time he remembers it. Hands release Sunjata’s wrists, trailing back down his arms until Nate gets up on his elbows, holding himself that much higher above Sunjata.
A thankfully complete set of eyes pick slowly over the Demi-gods body, Nate making careful note of each new bite or scar, of the places where sleepless nights and stress have worn new lines into his husbands face. The liquid gaze rises, pouring over Sunjata’s hair with the same careful intensity. “I can’t believe you cut your hair.” It’s an easier tease, a fake hurt to fuss over instead of the deep, aching scars in each of them. More silvery strands catch the ascendeds eye, the worry reverberating in his head, locked behind lying eyes and an adoring grin.
“Fuck, I need sunglasses just to look at you, baby.” Praise is an easy cover, truths on truths on truth just to cover the lie. It helps that these are words he wouldn’t have had to even speak at one point, every part of his soul bared to Sunjata through their bond. Nate has a chance to very clearly think I should feel guilty for only saying that to distract him before he follows it up with something so blisteringly sincere he tears up as he says it. “You… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, my beautiful Sun. The best thing that will ever happen to me.”
And then, because he is still himself, and can only drool out so much serious emotion before he starts to gag, follows it up a moment later with: “I really, desperately need to suck your dick about it.”
For a single second, Nate thinks about pinning Sunjata’s wrists down, about holding him down to the bed and keeping him there. Maybe forever. Maybe just until he’s satisfied that every ounce of his love has been pressed in to Sunjata’s skin, his bones, his blood. Until he’s sure that every thump of his still beating heart whispers Nate.
Just a second though. The next one reminds him how unfair that would be, how upset he’d be if he couldn’t touch Sunjata after a season. Gods, he still can’t fully swallow that knowledge, Nate holding the time in his mouth and running his tongue over the sore it’s made, a constant reminder that he makes worse every time he remembers it. Hands release Sunjata’s wrists, trailing back down his arms until Nate gets up on his elbows, holding himself that much higher above Sunjata.
A thankfully complete set of eyes pick slowly over the Demi-gods body, Nate making careful note of each new bite or scar, of the places where sleepless nights and stress have worn new lines into his husbands face. The liquid gaze rises, pouring over Sunjata’s hair with the same careful intensity. “I can’t believe you cut your hair.” It’s an easier tease, a fake hurt to fuss over instead of the deep, aching scars in each of them. More silvery strands catch the ascendeds eye, the worry reverberating in his head, locked behind lying eyes and an adoring grin.
“Fuck, I need sunglasses just to look at you, baby.” Praise is an easy cover, truths on truths on truth just to cover the lie. It helps that these are words he wouldn’t have had to even speak at one point, every part of his soul bared to Sunjata through their bond. Nate has a chance to very clearly think I should feel guilty for only saying that to distract him before he follows it up with something so blisteringly sincere he tears up as he says it. “You… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, my beautiful Sun. The best thing that will ever happen to me.”
And then, because he is still himself, and can only drool out so much serious emotion before he starts to gag, follows it up a moment later with: “I really, desperately need to suck your dick about it.”
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
