[It's not the time or place to argue against Jonas's statement of his character, but there's something that sits a little tight in his chest, hearing it — a wish that it could be true. A desire to make it true, if he can.
The hold he has around Jonas doesn't yield at all, remaining as securely firm as necessary while Jonas succumbs to the tremor of those emotions. The kiss against his neck, against his hair, are both soft shows of affection that only snarl deeper past Cain's cool demeanor and make it harder to pretend he doesn't care.
He does. He cares about Jonas so much in that moment it's scary, because he thought he would never do this again, and especially not so fucking soon. He wonders if it means something that he found Jonas so quickly after Abel, or if it's a bad idea even to follow that thought. He doesn't want to think about anything else right now. It's easy to set aside, at least, when Jonas needs him more.]
I won't. C'mere, let's sit down.
[The shuffle is a little awkward, but he backs up enough to drop down onto the edge of the cot and takes Jonas with him, into his lap, arms never loosening the circle of their embrace. His cheek bumps against Jonas's warm shoulder where he inhales the clean, familiar, boyish scent of him.]
We don't have to stop having fun. As long as you want, okay? I mean it.
( Any order from Cain is one Jonas willingly follows. It, therefore, takes no effort to guide him to the cot and onto his knees over Cain's thighs. He's still clinging like a child, despite feeling ancient, weary, and aching, squeezing at all the fabric and flesh he can feel against him. )
Yeah? That's... That's a pretty long time, man, ( he chokes on a laugh against Cain, the gust disturbing hair he continues to nose into.
Never has a man smelled so good to him. Cigarettes and musk, and whatever he uses on his head and body. Calming in its familiarity, but invigorating in its newness. )
Months? Or... years? I'm talking, like... forever. You could stay with me, you know? Like this, or however you want. I just don't ever want to be alone like that again. Talking to the same cardboard cutouts of people again and again and again. ( No souls, no futures, just pre-recorded videos playing until the film runs out and the tape gets scrambled... Has Cain ever felt like that?
As though he's just heard his partner respond in the affirmative to a question unasked, Jonas clutches Cain harder. Far harder, with his hands and arms and knees and thighs, like he can crush the meaningfulness of this moment into him. )
[It is a long time. He can't even comprehend it, the way Jonas has described — wonders if he should ask or if it might only spiral him deeper into feelings he'd rather not revisit, better set aside and distracted from the anguish he's endured. Jonas is holding onto him tightly enough that it would take a lot to break the embrace, but he's not that interested in trying right now.]
Yeah? I mean, so what? It's just forever.
[A shift so he can slip his arms around Jonas's waist amid that desperate clinging, folding his hands together. He keeps his head pillowed against Jonas's shoulder, eyes closed in a moment of unthinking contentment. Maybe he'll consider the implications of his agreement later, but right now he doesn't care for much but the continued physicality of their hold.]
I thought I was dead when I woke up here, too. Really freaked me out. Not that I'm saying — it sounds like you had it worse. It's just been a lot easier since then, because of you. So... if I can pay that back, then I will.
( That's right. "It's just forever." Having experienced eternity, overwhelmed, tears dampen black hair. This time will be different. It simply has to be.
Because it's not only his life relying on it, but Cain's, too. )
Hey, no... no, baby, you can't, like, downplay that. I know how scary that is. ( Leaning back enough to butt his forehead against Cain's, gazing at him with watery eyes, he finally understands the true impact of this moment: this isn't just fun, it's a core need for them both.
It's escapism, but it's the most precious display of cathartic solidarity he's only ever felt with Cain and Noctis. They're all lonely, confused, and scared. They're all seeking love and finding it in the unlikeliest of places. This is survival, too; building a small, strong safety net of fingers to hold each other within. He and Cain are catching each other right now. From freefalling to being tightly anchored to something good.
Kissing into Cain's hair, his arms retract enough that his hands can stroke concentrated heat down muscular sides. One slips easily beneath the hem of a tight, black shirt, intent on feeling scar tissue on a hard abdomen he's seen but never commented on. )
We're both here now. We're safe now. That's, like... pretty amazing odds, right? ( Gently, with a trembling thumb, that only recently healed skin is petted, and needing a deeper connection to this moment, Jonas relaxes into his partner's lap, knees widening over strong thighs. ) Know how many times I didn't get to meet you, and now... on my, like, final run, you're with me?
You don't know how important it is to me that you're here. That you survived.
[God, the way Jonas is talking... the way he's talking like it matters, that he matters, even if his life has only ever been inconsequential to someone else's goal, to someone else's plan — maybe Jonas understands what it's like to feel small and useless. There's so much more he wants to ask about that experience and how Jonas even ended up in it at all, but there's another part of him desperate to retain this quiet moment of connection, too.
Their foreheads bump together; Jonas's hand ventures underneath his shirt, causing Cain's breath to catch, muscle flinching reflexively at the warm caress over scar tissue. It doesn't feel like much more than pressure, and he's not ticklish, but there's something intimate about it still. Like Jonas recognizes a wound that almost killed him and is soothing it, though it's already healed. The emotional pain beneath it certainly has not.]
... Yeah. [His chest feels tight. It's harder for him to articulate his feelings compared to Jonas, but his hands can communicate his affection, at least, as they roam over Jonas's back in comforting strokes.] You're not going anywhere. I promise I won't let that happen.
Are you okay?
[An exhalation as he leans back enough to find those pretty eyes, because Cain doesn't want this to turn around on his own problems. He's here for Jonas right now.]
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no subject
The hold he has around Jonas doesn't yield at all, remaining as securely firm as necessary while Jonas succumbs to the tremor of those emotions. The kiss against his neck, against his hair, are both soft shows of affection that only snarl deeper past Cain's cool demeanor and make it harder to pretend he doesn't care.
He does. He cares about Jonas so much in that moment it's scary, because he thought he would never do this again, and especially not so fucking soon. He wonders if it means something that he found Jonas so quickly after Abel, or if it's a bad idea even to follow that thought. He doesn't want to think about anything else right now. It's easy to set aside, at least, when Jonas needs him more.]
I won't. C'mere, let's sit down.
[The shuffle is a little awkward, but he backs up enough to drop down onto the edge of the cot and takes Jonas with him, into his lap, arms never loosening the circle of their embrace. His cheek bumps against Jonas's warm shoulder where he inhales the clean, familiar, boyish scent of him.]
We don't have to stop having fun. As long as you want, okay? I mean it.
no subject
Yeah? That's... That's a pretty long time, man, ( he chokes on a laugh against Cain, the gust disturbing hair he continues to nose into.
Never has a man smelled so good to him. Cigarettes and musk, and whatever he uses on his head and body. Calming in its familiarity, but invigorating in its newness. )
Months? Or... years? I'm talking, like... forever. You could stay with me, you know? Like this, or however you want. I just don't ever want to be alone like that again. Talking to the same cardboard cutouts of people again and again and again. ( No souls, no futures, just pre-recorded videos playing until the film runs out and the tape gets scrambled... Has Cain ever felt like that?
As though he's just heard his partner respond in the affirmative to a question unasked, Jonas clutches Cain harder. Far harder, with his hands and arms and knees and thighs, like he can crush the meaningfulness of this moment into him. )
No takebacks.
no subject
Yeah? I mean, so what? It's just forever.
[A shift so he can slip his arms around Jonas's waist amid that desperate clinging, folding his hands together. He keeps his head pillowed against Jonas's shoulder, eyes closed in a moment of unthinking contentment. Maybe he'll consider the implications of his agreement later, but right now he doesn't care for much but the continued physicality of their hold.]
I thought I was dead when I woke up here, too. Really freaked me out. Not that I'm saying — it sounds like you had it worse. It's just been a lot easier since then, because of you. So... if I can pay that back, then I will.
no subject
Because it's not only his life relying on it, but Cain's, too. )
Hey, no... no, baby, you can't, like, downplay that. I know how scary that is. ( Leaning back enough to butt his forehead against Cain's, gazing at him with watery eyes, he finally understands the true impact of this moment: this isn't just fun, it's a core need for them both.
It's escapism, but it's the most precious display of cathartic solidarity he's only ever felt with Cain and Noctis. They're all lonely, confused, and scared. They're all seeking love and finding it in the unlikeliest of places. This is survival, too; building a small, strong safety net of fingers to hold each other within. He and Cain are catching each other right now. From freefalling to being tightly anchored to something good.
Kissing into Cain's hair, his arms retract enough that his hands can stroke concentrated heat down muscular sides. One slips easily beneath the hem of a tight, black shirt, intent on feeling scar tissue on a hard abdomen he's seen but never commented on. )
We're both here now. We're safe now. That's, like... pretty amazing odds, right? ( Gently, with a trembling thumb, that only recently healed skin is petted, and needing a deeper connection to this moment, Jonas relaxes into his partner's lap, knees widening over strong thighs. ) Know how many times I didn't get to meet you, and now... on my, like, final run, you're with me?
You don't know how important it is to me that you're here. That you survived.
no subject
Their foreheads bump together; Jonas's hand ventures underneath his shirt, causing Cain's breath to catch, muscle flinching reflexively at the warm caress over scar tissue. It doesn't feel like much more than pressure, and he's not ticklish, but there's something intimate about it still. Like Jonas recognizes a wound that almost killed him and is soothing it, though it's already healed. The emotional pain beneath it certainly has not.]
... Yeah. [His chest feels tight. It's harder for him to articulate his feelings compared to Jonas, but his hands can communicate his affection, at least, as they roam over Jonas's back in comforting strokes.] You're not going anywhere. I promise I won't let that happen.
Are you okay?
[An exhalation as he leans back enough to find those pretty eyes, because Cain doesn't want this to turn around on his own problems. He's here for Jonas right now.]