[ gabriel speaks—he speaks—and it's almost enough to send nathan crashing into his arms. it's nine, simple words but it's like nathan can breathe a little better in the next second. the gabriel nathan invented never spoke to him. he was just always there, making sure nathan never felt alone. but nathan can't let himself fall too far and fast before he's sure of this. he has to keep some ounce of control, even if it's only over this one thing. this one, earth-shattering thing. and in the end, if it is gabriel, he deserves the same reassurance he's giving to nathan now.
nathan wants to say you've been gone a long time back. because it's viciously apt. weeks, months passed, nathan recognizes that now. time went hazy for a while between the council building and his bramble den, but that doesn't matter. he knows gabriel has been missing from everything for what feels like forever, for what threatened to become forever and ever.
but he can't say that. it's not the code. ]
Wounded. [ comes the reply after a moment of jarred silence. his voice crackles around the syllables. he doesn't think he'd ever been more wounded in his life. ] Not lost.
[ but so, so close to lost. about to stagger off to somewhere he might not have come back from.
but gabriel is here. talking to him, the soothing lilt of his voice a crucial part of him that had slipped to the wayside in all of nathan's imaginings. and suddenly it doesn't feel like a risk to reach out, to bring gabriel close to him after so long spreading fingers over packed earth and thinking that was the closest they'd ever be anymore. now, he needs to know if that's a lie. he needs to see if there's still something left for him. ]
Gabriel?
[ it's a whisper as he steps nearer, clinging to a sense of trembling calm, knowing it's going to shatter. it takes everything nathan has to do this slowly, cautiously. his fingers skid along the inside of the wrist that gabriel's left hovering between them and it's more real than he's truly prepared for. his other hand touches gabriel's shoulder, to feel how solid he is. nathan inhales, lets his hand travel up to gabriel's neck, his fingers brushing soft strands of long hair.
he's reminded of the night he'd kissed gabriel in the bathroom, the one gabriel had kissed him in. everything had slowed down around them then, too; nathan afraid to rush anything, just wanting to feel in every capacity and let the world set itself to rights in the interim. he'd almost believed it could. nathan had apologized then, and he thinks he could apologize now. say he's sorry that he wasn't quick enough, that he wasn't calm or strong enough to make his magic work when he needed it, for failing to keep gabriel safe. but he thinks that's the kind of apology gabriel would not want.
and besides, right now that can't take priority. the only thing nathan can think to do is find gabriel's eyes and silently beg him to touch back, to hold him. it has to be gabriel that does it, to confirm that he, despite everything nathan knows, is alive. ]
[ the corners of gabriel's mouth slide up as nathan rounds out the other half of the circle made by the ends of their coded couplet, float lightly into that luminous, easy smile. he has the sense nathan thinks of him as a person who smiles often, and maybe that was true once. until the itchy, empty strangeness of a fain body set such heaviness in his mouth a smile felt like bending iron. or maybe before that, when white witches took michele away from him. they didn't see that she was raf's daughter, gabriel's sister; they saw a black candle burning, existing only to be snuffed out. nathan doesn't know that he was what balanced the scales after that, that his magic sang like a siren and drowning felt like the most peaceful thing gabriel had ever done.
he smiles now because he can't help himself, because it is so good, every time, to be reminded that nathan is still here. that gabriel can still stay with him.
even so a note of disquiet tips the curve of his mouth crooked; nathan touches him like he thinks he'll break, or dissipate into mist. but he won't, and clearly he too is reminded of that bathroom, that kiss, the suspended moment stretching the atmosphere thin, because when he does reach out to touch back, his hands settle on either side of nathan's too-slim waist. they pull, more determined than gentle until their bodies press tight together, from shoulders to hips to knocking knees, and the fan of olive branches his fingers make draws up to cup the back of nathan's neck, other arm secured around his waist. ]
Nathan...
[ an inadvertent echo, though more concern than question despite gabriel's lilty accent. there's a way he says nathan's name only in circumstances like this, like it's a raw wound that hurts because nathan hurts.
they're close enough that consonants turn into caresses, those not-quite-kisses where they share breath, one soul between them. ]
Nathan. Was I lost?
Edited (the run ons, oh the run ons) 2018-01-13 10:12 (UTC)
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nathan wants to say you've been gone a long time back. because it's viciously apt. weeks, months passed, nathan recognizes that now. time went hazy for a while between the council building and his bramble den, but that doesn't matter. he knows gabriel has been missing from everything for what feels like forever, for what threatened to become forever and ever.
but he can't say that. it's not the code. ]
Wounded. [ comes the reply after a moment of jarred silence. his voice crackles around the syllables. he doesn't think he'd ever been more wounded in his life. ] Not lost.
[ but so, so close to lost. about to stagger off to somewhere he might not have come back from.
but gabriel is here. talking to him, the soothing lilt of his voice a crucial part of him that had slipped to the wayside in all of nathan's imaginings. and suddenly it doesn't feel like a risk to reach out, to bring gabriel close to him after so long spreading fingers over packed earth and thinking that was the closest they'd ever be anymore. now, he needs to know if that's a lie. he needs to see if there's still something left for him. ]
Gabriel?
[ it's a whisper as he steps nearer, clinging to a sense of trembling calm, knowing it's going to shatter. it takes everything nathan has to do this slowly, cautiously. his fingers skid along the inside of the wrist that gabriel's left hovering between them and it's more real than he's truly prepared for. his other hand touches gabriel's shoulder, to feel how solid he is. nathan inhales, lets his hand travel up to gabriel's neck, his fingers brushing soft strands of long hair.
he's reminded of the night he'd kissed gabriel in the bathroom, the one gabriel had kissed him in. everything had slowed down around them then, too; nathan afraid to rush anything, just wanting to feel in every capacity and let the world set itself to rights in the interim. he'd almost believed it could. nathan had apologized then, and he thinks he could apologize now. say he's sorry that he wasn't quick enough, that he wasn't calm or strong enough to make his magic work when he needed it, for failing to keep gabriel safe. but he thinks that's the kind of apology gabriel would not want.
and besides, right now that can't take priority. the only thing nathan can think to do is find gabriel's eyes and silently beg him to touch back, to hold him. it has to be gabriel that does it, to confirm that he, despite everything nathan knows, is alive. ]
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he smiles now because he can't help himself, because it is so good, every time, to be reminded that nathan is still here. that gabriel can still stay with him.
even so a note of disquiet tips the curve of his mouth crooked; nathan touches him like he thinks he'll break, or dissipate into mist. but he won't, and clearly he too is reminded of that bathroom, that kiss, the suspended moment stretching the atmosphere thin, because when he does reach out to touch back, his hands settle on either side of nathan's too-slim waist. they pull, more determined than gentle until their bodies press tight together, from shoulders to hips to knocking knees, and the fan of olive branches his fingers make draws up to cup the back of nathan's neck, other arm secured around his waist. ]
Nathan...
[ an inadvertent echo, though more concern than question despite gabriel's lilty accent. there's a way he says nathan's name only in circumstances like this, like it's a raw wound that hurts because nathan hurts.
they're close enough that consonants turn into caresses, those not-quite-kisses where they share breath, one soul between them. ]
Nathan. Was I lost?