you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling
When had their gears slipped so far out of alignment? How long had they been grinding, pressing against each other in a song of sheared metal and trying? And how much longer until they’re irreparable, until it makes more sense to just replace the whole thing?
All Nate wants to hear, all that he needs to hear, is that he would be chosen when it came to it. That he could hold a candle and Sunjata would flock to it instead of the stars above.
But he doesn’t, doesn’t hear that, just sees the other man get back to work.
So Nate follows his lead, hammering boards together and letting himself grow colder and more distant, slipping away from Sunjata like a receding tide. He thinks about taking the ring off again, thinks about leaving them both alone in their feelings. Thinks about losing it in the mud and never looking for it again.
You... were my safe place too. Nate pauses again, rubs at his face roughly and pretends like it’s the rain that’s plaguing him instead of iridescent tears. He doesn’t know how to explain himself, how to really, truly highlight the betrayal, how to make it understood. All I wanted was a life with you beyond this bullshit. I never brought it home, not if I could help it.
With one last nail hammered in, Nate struggles to his feet, letting his extra arms do the work of lifting the shutter, and leaning it against the wall. You can apologize forever, but you threw our doors open and invited your lunatic goddess into our home. Into my life. After, Nate can’t help but laugh at this, after she cursed me before Longnight. Whatever Sunjata said didn’t hold a candle to what he’d done. The ascended turns towards his husband fully, steps a touch closer, letting the saw horse and a few scant inches of space separate them.
”Sunjata.” The name falls off his lips like a prayer, just before shaking hands wrap around the attuned’s jaw. ”I would kill and die for you, if you asked me to.” Shaking hands hold on for as long as Nate can manage to keep the pain off his face, dropping away and clenching to hide the shiny burnt sheen when it becomes too much. You never asked me. Maybe it was something they were both guilty of, that desperation to claw a place out into the future, into each other, that they stop looking at what they’re digging into, what they’re letting in.
All Nate wants to hear, all that he needs to hear, is that he would be chosen when it came to it. That he could hold a candle and Sunjata would flock to it instead of the stars above.
But he doesn’t, doesn’t hear that, just sees the other man get back to work.
So Nate follows his lead, hammering boards together and letting himself grow colder and more distant, slipping away from Sunjata like a receding tide. He thinks about taking the ring off again, thinks about leaving them both alone in their feelings. Thinks about losing it in the mud and never looking for it again.
You... were my safe place too. Nate pauses again, rubs at his face roughly and pretends like it’s the rain that’s plaguing him instead of iridescent tears. He doesn’t know how to explain himself, how to really, truly highlight the betrayal, how to make it understood. All I wanted was a life with you beyond this bullshit. I never brought it home, not if I could help it.
With one last nail hammered in, Nate struggles to his feet, letting his extra arms do the work of lifting the shutter, and leaning it against the wall. You can apologize forever, but you threw our doors open and invited your lunatic goddess into our home. Into my life. After, Nate can’t help but laugh at this, after she cursed me before Longnight. Whatever Sunjata said didn’t hold a candle to what he’d done. The ascended turns towards his husband fully, steps a touch closer, letting the saw horse and a few scant inches of space separate them.
”Sunjata.” The name falls off his lips like a prayer, just before shaking hands wrap around the attuned’s jaw. ”I would kill and die for you, if you asked me to.” Shaking hands hold on for as long as Nate can manage to keep the pain off his face, dropping away and clenching to hide the shiny burnt sheen when it becomes too much. You never asked me. Maybe it was something they were both guilty of, that desperation to claw a place out into the future, into each other, that they stop looking at what they’re digging into, what they’re letting in.
& you're trembling and he reaches over
and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist
NATE
