05-16-2020, 03:37 PM
Raffe fully expected the usual quip; because, yes, he could think of plenty of things to keep Nox’s attention, and it was perfectly evident by the slow curve of his grin. If there was also a kernel of truth in the anxiety of being left behind, what orphan didn’t nurse those dark thoughts from time to time? Nox brushed shoulders with the most powerful man in the world, and Raffe lived in the box room of a burlesque club. He couldn’t compete with the sorts of people the other man was likely to meet at those lofty heights; someone or something was bound to snag his attention sooner or later. But Nox had been perfectly upfront from the beginning, and if Raffe juggled his own heart in his hands he at least did it knowingly.
Instead the soft words were surprisingly tender, though they caught him entirely off guard. It wasn’t the first time this one had rendered him utterly speechless, but this time the warmth of feelings evoked flushed through him like a heartbeat. Last night’s words had been sleepy, and if they had made him smile at the time they were also not something he’d ever planned to mention, or take too seriously, or try to decipher. He accepted them for what they were in the moment, tucking them away like treasure but not necessarily like a promise.
Nox sat forward. Raffe scrubbed a hand through his hair, breathing deep. He was still waiting to be told to fuck off? Why would I..?
The insecurities were like wounds, and he’d known they were there but not how deep they travelled. Raffe wore his heart right on his sleeve, and while the girls teased him for his laid-back nature, he was not fickle. It was true he loved people, in all their varieties, and he was generous with his time and affections -- and he certainly had his own past. But he didn’t play with feelings, and he knew when he wanted something. So in the evenings when he curled up next to Nox while they fell asleep, it was because he wanted to be there. It didn’t change in the morning. It didn’t change because of Nox’s responsibilities. He wasn’t going anywhere.
By the time Nox sat back, Raffe’s eyes were a little wide, his skin lightly flush. He hadn’t interrupted at all but he was clearly still processing. His arm still rested on the bench behind, but now his hand moved to caress the back of Nox’s neck instead. His fingers tangled in the hair at his nape, splaying it lightly through his fingers, because he didn’t want his quiet to be construed as anything bad. Those kinds of confessions should not be cast to the rocks of another man’s silence.
He pressed his head close, delaying the moment in a shelter of intimacy. His smile kept flickering like he wasn’t really sure he could trust it, or at least how bright it wanted to beam, but the word happy was spinning around in his head -- and especially the way Nox had said it. It was like he didn’t quite know what to make of such a strange prize, and it made Raffe’s chest ache to think how little of it he may have known.
“You can’t change the past, and we don’t know the future,” he said eventually. Soft, not just because of his ruined voice. “I’m not going anywhere either. I don’t want to.” This could be exactly whatever it was, and Nox didn’t have to worry about labels; that's what he wanted to say, but he was afraid it’d all come out somehow wrong, that he’d seem too keen or not keen enough, so instead he drew Nox’s jaw soft in his hand and kissed him. It seemed an infinitely better way to speak.
He didn’t pull back far, or very quickly when he did. “You will get another chance. You’d better.” His lips played a grin, teasing. “And you’re, ah, totally sure you have to meet this Atharim guy right now?” He wasn’t likely to ever purposefully stand in the way of Nox’s need to do the right thing; it was part of the other man’s draw, so the words were not serious, though the soft way he looked at Nox now was.
Instead the soft words were surprisingly tender, though they caught him entirely off guard. It wasn’t the first time this one had rendered him utterly speechless, but this time the warmth of feelings evoked flushed through him like a heartbeat. Last night’s words had been sleepy, and if they had made him smile at the time they were also not something he’d ever planned to mention, or take too seriously, or try to decipher. He accepted them for what they were in the moment, tucking them away like treasure but not necessarily like a promise.
Nox sat forward. Raffe scrubbed a hand through his hair, breathing deep. He was still waiting to be told to fuck off? Why would I..?
The insecurities were like wounds, and he’d known they were there but not how deep they travelled. Raffe wore his heart right on his sleeve, and while the girls teased him for his laid-back nature, he was not fickle. It was true he loved people, in all their varieties, and he was generous with his time and affections -- and he certainly had his own past. But he didn’t play with feelings, and he knew when he wanted something. So in the evenings when he curled up next to Nox while they fell asleep, it was because he wanted to be there. It didn’t change in the morning. It didn’t change because of Nox’s responsibilities. He wasn’t going anywhere.
By the time Nox sat back, Raffe’s eyes were a little wide, his skin lightly flush. He hadn’t interrupted at all but he was clearly still processing. His arm still rested on the bench behind, but now his hand moved to caress the back of Nox’s neck instead. His fingers tangled in the hair at his nape, splaying it lightly through his fingers, because he didn’t want his quiet to be construed as anything bad. Those kinds of confessions should not be cast to the rocks of another man’s silence.
He pressed his head close, delaying the moment in a shelter of intimacy. His smile kept flickering like he wasn’t really sure he could trust it, or at least how bright it wanted to beam, but the word happy was spinning around in his head -- and especially the way Nox had said it. It was like he didn’t quite know what to make of such a strange prize, and it made Raffe’s chest ache to think how little of it he may have known.
“You can’t change the past, and we don’t know the future,” he said eventually. Soft, not just because of his ruined voice. “I’m not going anywhere either. I don’t want to.” This could be exactly whatever it was, and Nox didn’t have to worry about labels; that's what he wanted to say, but he was afraid it’d all come out somehow wrong, that he’d seem too keen or not keen enough, so instead he drew Nox’s jaw soft in his hand and kissed him. It seemed an infinitely better way to speak.
He didn’t pull back far, or very quickly when he did. “You will get another chance. You’d better.” His lips played a grin, teasing. “And you’re, ah, totally sure you have to meet this Atharim guy right now?” He wasn’t likely to ever purposefully stand in the way of Nox’s need to do the right thing; it was part of the other man’s draw, so the words were not serious, though the soft way he looked at Nox now was.