At home in your arms
Nao
Mojito was pacing. He'd finally gotten himself somewhat settled, or well as settled as he could be all things considered. Frankly he wasn't really sure what he was waiting for, Asla had promised that she'd help him but... Could she? It wasn't like he had intimate knowledge of her relationship with her family. He knew it had been rocky before and he had a feeling she was about as keen on her brother as he was but she had said... So he paced. Though maybe there was more reasons for that than he wanted to admit. He'd made a promise to his daughter, one he was committing to not breaking but after the night that he and Satoru had had together... Well the idea that he'd be forced to make the choice to say goodbye to the freckled man it- Well it broke his heart. But that was a pain he could endure, he'd done it once before. He'd been the one to sever his romantic relationship with Asla after all.... But that didn't make it any less tragic. He'd probably simply give up on romance if the two times in his life he'd found it he had to make the decision to let them go... Both times for his daughter. Maybe he'd been right all along and it simply wasn't for him. It'd make sense after all, who in his life could ever understand what being a wolf-dog was like aside from his daughter? He loved her with his whole being, but the wolves around here? Could they ever see past their heritage? He knew Asla was able to but they'd just never been fully compatible, he'd needed things from her that were unfair to even ask for. Satoru had also seemed the type... But he also didn't know the man half as well as he knew his childhood friend... But at the same time he couldn't stop thinking about the feeling of being held... Gods he was a mess... He wanted at least to see Satoru, if it was true that that type of love just would never be in the cards for him he wanted to at least know he'd kept his promise... He would make sure Satoru was free, that he was safe, with his own eyes. So he paced near the border, trying and failing not to think about everything. |
Art by MarkLix |
Mo's daughter Satira is free to cash his threads as she sees fit.
The trek from the northern lands that he'd come to loathe was rife with tension, and though the mysterious woman had assured him that she intended to help him, was acting in his interests.... well, he hadn't truly trusted anyone in years. He wasn't even certain he fully trusted the man that he'd only recently been able to hold in his arms, after such a long wait. How did one come to trust, anyhow? Years of abuse and indentured servitude did not make for a particularly willing participant under any circumstances. So he walked mutely and with his head low, carrying his sword across the flank which did not rub shoulders with the dainty, scarred fae. The macaque that continued to accompany him everywhere hung back for the journey, maintaining a safe distance from the wolves for his own self-preservation if things went awry. And then they were somewhere entirely new, though maybe familiar. Hadn't he once hunted mudskippers in the area? Hard to place the memory somewhere concrete anymore. With a curt nod and a promise to reconnect later, the fawn coloured she-wolf left him at the borders. Sea foam eyes narrowed warily, hackles bristling slightly as he surveyed the landscape. Glimmering pools collected trickling streams of warm water all around him, originating from the objectively beautiful falls a little ways ahead. He hummed low in his throat as he examined the scene before him. The macaque appeared at his side, and grabbed hold of his muzzle rather forcefully to point his line of sight in the right direction. The direction that brought Mojito into view. Without a word, the primate relieved him of his weapon and scampered off to seek shelter in the trees in the meantime. "Mojito," he crooned softly, sore paws carrying him the short distance that remained between the two males. A small, tired smile toyed at inky lips as he filled his sight with the vision that stood before him. Cast in the ruddy glow of sunset, the delicate frame of his lover appeared gilded and perhaps even divine as he stood before him. The concern that furrowed his brow was paid no mind, nor the tension in Mojito's shoulders. No, the wraith cared only for those ice blue eyes and charmingly folded-over ears. Could he ever tire of the sight? "I'd wondered when I may see you again- hold you again." he spoke the words softly, with a hint of reverence beneath the laid-bare hunger that clung to every syllable. Restraint was one of his greatest strengths, but in this moment it was truly tested. Could he cast aside all other thoughts, all other emotions tied to this fateful reunion, and waste the golden hours of waning sunlight with fervent repayment of his newfound debt to Mojito? He wanted to. He craved that familiar reassurance of physical touch, of debts paid in flesh and desire. Yet... that was so out of place here. Despite his life being forfeit for the right price, even now, he'd been assured that this was not a proper purchase. He owed a debt, but this was new territory. All of this toiling for the simplicity of affection, of fondness. Of... love? |
Art by MarkLix |
Hearing his name was all it took. He'd been wrapped up in his pondering but the moment he heard that soft voice lifting to call to him he spun to face the freckled man. For a split second he wasn't processing what he saw, even though it was logical... Even though it made total sense he'd been so deep in his own stress that seeing Satoru right there in front of him felt too easy, too much like fantasy. But all that passed in a single moment and he was moving before he even realized it, face splitting into a smile as he helped to close what little gap remained he nearly flung himself into the man, though he did not say it right away it was obvious he too had been desperate to find himself in Satoru's arms once again. "I had prayed it wouldn't be long." He said softly. Wanting nothing more than to simply envelope himself in the man and float in that bliss. But Mojito knew he couldn't, the longer he let himself sit in this moment the harder it would be to say what he had to say. Better to do so now than later. "How does it feel to be a free man?" His tone was light, a grin on his lips. "You may go wherever you wish!" A pause, and when he spoke again his tone was softer, less sure. Mojito was not a man used to voicing his own desires, he pushed those down, put others ahead of himself. But right now? Right now he was speaking for himself. "Though of course there's already room for you here with me if you wish." It was incredibly roundabout. He was trying to both say he hoped Satoru would choose to stay and trying to start cordoning off his emotions if he chose not to. "But I'm not- I am committed to staying here in Valta for the foreseeable future. Asla is a fair wolf, she's about one of the only wolves I really trust but she is still a Fatalis and this pack is still Armada affiliated. I made a promise to... to my daughter and breaking it would hurt her in a way I don't think I could stand so... I am staying." Had he mentioned Satira to the freckled man before now? He couldn't remember and too late now, the words tumbled out of him, his voice hitching upwards as he tried and failed to keep his emotions under control. He turned his gaze towards the man and said plainly but honestly: "Satoru I love you too much to make you stay in a place still so closely tied to an Armada pack, tied to your captors, just because it would make me happy. I want you to be happy too." So there it was. Mojito was honestly too trapped in his half heartbreak half hopeful feelings to realize that not only had he said it, said he loved the man but that he was probably also saying it sooner than would otherwise be advised. Maybe it was a blessing he was emotional right now, meant he wasn't adding extra anxiety on the pile of mess. He watched the freckled man intently, wanting to kiss him, wanting to hold him, wanting to drink up every inch of him... Something that also was plain as day on his face, even as he kept himself apart. To spare them both. |
Art by MarkLix |
Mo's daughter Satira is free to cash his threads as she sees fit.
His pale lover was the one to close the distance between them, pressing their bodies together- Nao could not help but entwine a slender limb around the man's wrist to hold him close. Quiet revelation in the sensation of Mojito's fur mingling with his own, followed by the soft lyrics of his lover brushing against his cheek. Asking after the notion of freedom, something so unusual and unfamiliar to the wraith. "I have not known freedom since I was a child, this is all so new to me." he admitted, turmoil an undeniable undercurrent of his quiet words. He did not want to think about the new reality of a life unbound, where his choices were his own and his decisions able to be made in his own interest. Mojito seemed cheerful to announce that he was free to move as he pleased, but there was something hanging onto the end of that declaration that made his ears twitch. The freckled wolf tipped his dark aud toward his lover, catching the hitch in his breath before he spoke up again. Ah, a caveat? But it was not. Instead, it was an extension of welcome. A place to call home of his own accord, if he chose. Dark tail flicked once, twice, nervousness coursing through his limbs as he considered the offer. In his heart of hearts, as guarded and fragile as it was, he longed for the domesticity that Mojito offered in this moment. Craved the simplicity of a warm bed and someone to love. He kept his mouth shut as the smaller man continued to speak, explaining that he would be remaining here in this pack- Valta. The alabaster canine assured him that Asla, the fae who had come to collect him from the Armada, was a fair wolf and worthy of trust. Yet the knowledge still lingered that this was a branch of that empire, borne of Fatalis blood and ideology. The idea of remaining under the thumb of a Fatalis turned his stomach. Could he ignore his desire to escape their thrall in order to remain by Mojito's side? However, his lover's reasons for staying were worthy and just, he wanted to retain his relationship with his child. Nao wouldn't dare jeopardize that. When those icy blue eyes were turned upon him, the heat of the moment roiling in frigid depths in a way he couldn't tear his own gaze away from.. well, he couldn't imagine leaving for all of the riches in the entire world. And then those words... I love you. Unbelievable. They had been lovers, wrapped in a delicate dance of politics and carefully placed words. Their emotions fraught with danger all the while, but always cautiously guarded and distinctly avoidant of notions like love. Yet Mojito spoke the words with such a flippancy, such a careless regard for their weight. As though love were of no consequence, and freely given. Was this the way of the world? All his life, love had been withheld or well-crafted forgery. Never real, and never so casually extended to a lowly whore like himself. How could the man say he loved him as though it were as easy as breathing? Just a part of the sentence, a facet of the reality in which the two men found themselves now. What's more, Mojito was insistent that his happiness was the most important, that he should choose what would bring him peace and safety. So Nao was silent. Drinking it all in and letting it trickle through the rusted cogs of his irrational, emotion-driven faculties for a little while. How does one adjust to being loved for the first time in half of a decade? With time, evidently. "Satoru is my surname." he said simply. Dumbly. He blinked once, twice, three times at the vision before him. The earnest, ardent emotion that remained plainly laid across Mojito's soft features. Traced the jut of his cheekbones with his eyes, the taper of his snout. "If we are more than.. than friends. You should call me Nao... Please." the dark furred male said softly, enthralled by the way the sunset turned the man's dainty horns coppery-gold and highlighted the blue of his eyes. "I want to make my home with you, Mojito." he said after a moment, adjusting his grip on the man's foreleg to pull him tighter against his body. Dark lashes fluttered against freckled cheeks as he dipped his skull to press a kiss against Mojito's brow, then his cheek, then his mouth. When those sea foam eyes opened again, pupils wide in the dying light, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Mojito. Was this real? Could it be a cruel trick of the mind? Perhaps it didn't matter. Happiness in madness was better than the alternative. "I want to be with you for the rest of my days." he continued softly, the croon of his vocals turned husky with the rawness of his emotions. |
Art by MarkLix |
Well, if Mojito didn't feel like he was throwing the freckled man to the lions. Had he just freed Satoru to leave him to flounder in a world he knew barely anything about? The silence that stretched on felt heavy, oppressive, like it had settled in his lungs. It gave him the chance to really process what he'd said, and that didn't help his growing anxiety. His face was quickly flushing and he found he had to drop his gaze. Mojito knew he had jumped the gun, their time together had been scarce enough. He'd always known he couldn't let himself get too comfortable with anyone he didn't know, it was always too easy for them to suddenly turn on him, to remind him that there would always be one set of rules for them and another for him; and yet he'd also always been easy to win over. It was deceptively simple and yet few enough wolves had bothered to do it. Maybe it meant he fell too easily, but could anyone blame him for seeking out what little feelings of desirability he got? But that didn't mean he thought of the notion of love so cheaply, though he'd probably said it too early, maybe even too easily, that didn't make it any less true. Which made the silence worse. Finally the man in front of him spoke, words that mostly served to confuse him at first; enough so that it drew his gaze back to Satoru. Uh, Nao. It took his mind a painfully slow time to process what he was being told, it was only when he was being pulled into the freckled man that things seemed to click. "Nao." He whispered, feeling the man's name as he said it. "Nao." He said the man's name again, and again and again as Nao gently planted kisses. Enjoying it each time he said it. "I want to be with you for the rest of my days." Mojito's stomach fluttered, the last time he'd felt like this had been that day on the beach when he'd first kissed Asla, a life time ago. He wrapped his free foreleg around Nao and held him so so tight. "I've spent so long thinking about you, but I couldn't let myself hope." As he spoke he gently laid kisses along Nao's cheek, the underside of his jaw, trailing randomly with no real plan he was simply letting his instincts, his emotions guide him. "But somehow this, right now, is better than any fantasy I could have come up with." Maybe he was being dramatic, maybe he was being too emotional but fuck! He'd spent so much of his life wanting to feel like this, he deserved to just be in the moment dammit! The few glimpses of it he'd gotten in his youth from Asla had left him hungry, all too aware of what he was missing. Yes he wanted Nao in a more carnal way but he also wanted him in a way he couldn't even begin to explain. That said he was very aware they might need to move themselves to a more private location. |
Art by MarkLix |
Mo's daughter Satira is free to cash his threads as she sees fit.
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1. | At home in your arms | Sunset Falls | 11:57 PM, 09-05-2023 | 12:39 AM, 07-03-2024 |