I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars
He’s okay, which is good. Not like Sunjata could do anything about it other than whine about how Nate possibly wasn’t okay when he couldn’t really feel any pain. But the tenderness and silly tension relieving gesture does exactly that, as Sunjata fumbles in his attempts to get comfortable on the couch with Nate – slowly coming to the realization that anything is comfortable at this present moment, especially when Nate’s fingers move in slow circles along his back, almost his spine, drawing a small thread of goosebumps beneath their ministrations.
He answers the question of how he’s doing in a way that seems to not draw any further questions from the Ascended, and it’s one small victory to his slowly clouding mind. And he’s content with that too, as his hands and fingers find a way to tangle within Nate’s hair, to stroke and caress gently wherever he can – simply because he can. And it’s nice, to see that smug contentness as it crosses Nate’s face, something that swells a feeling within him in his stomach of a mix between surprise and satisfaction that he could draw that out.
The purr that slips from Nate’s lips, the answer to him asking a question has Sunjata’s chin propped a bit more, angling and adjusting himself so he’s a bit closer, so he can scan and drown himself in those electric blues, swept away completely on the ocean of his thoughts as he tries to pinpoint down how to go about saying what he wants to say. In the end, those thoughts are useless when the gates open, when his lips part and he has absolutely no room to try and cover himself as they pour out of him. “My nickname. I want – no, can you call me Sunny instead?” He asks, head tilting a small amount from where his chin rests on Nate. “It’s, only Luci called me that, but I don’t know. Jata’s just… Everyone calls me that.” A deep inhale before he doesn’t realize he’s slipped into Korofi and his fingers still at the nape of Nate’s neck, fingers curling into the dark hair and skin there.
“Maar jy is so fokken spesiaal vir my dat ek wil hê jy moet my ook Sunny noem.” His steel gaze remains on Nate, so focused, as he suddenly and sluggishly wonders if he’s overstepped anything.
Maar jy is so fokken spesiaal vir my dat ek wil hê jy moet my ook Sunny noem. - but you’re so fucking special to me that I want you to call me Sunny too.
He answers the question of how he’s doing in a way that seems to not draw any further questions from the Ascended, and it’s one small victory to his slowly clouding mind. And he’s content with that too, as his hands and fingers find a way to tangle within Nate’s hair, to stroke and caress gently wherever he can – simply because he can. And it’s nice, to see that smug contentness as it crosses Nate’s face, something that swells a feeling within him in his stomach of a mix between surprise and satisfaction that he could draw that out.
The purr that slips from Nate’s lips, the answer to him asking a question has Sunjata’s chin propped a bit more, angling and adjusting himself so he’s a bit closer, so he can scan and drown himself in those electric blues, swept away completely on the ocean of his thoughts as he tries to pinpoint down how to go about saying what he wants to say. In the end, those thoughts are useless when the gates open, when his lips part and he has absolutely no room to try and cover himself as they pour out of him. “My nickname. I want – no, can you call me Sunny instead?” He asks, head tilting a small amount from where his chin rests on Nate. “It’s, only Luci called me that, but I don’t know. Jata’s just… Everyone calls me that.” A deep inhale before he doesn’t realize he’s slipped into Korofi and his fingers still at the nape of Nate’s neck, fingers curling into the dark hair and skin there.
“Maar jy is so fokken spesiaal vir my dat ek wil hê jy moet my ook Sunny noem.” His steel gaze remains on Nate, so focused, as he suddenly and sluggishly wonders if he’s overstepped anything.
Maar jy is so fokken spesiaal vir my dat ek wil hê jy moet my ook Sunny noem. - but you’re so fucking special to me that I want you to call me Sunny too.
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.
