At home in your arms

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.