𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

he's been walking a fine line between wanting to know more about anders and learning it's probably better not to. nate's never been one to get ruffled by stories of some unjust leader, his life's already been full of them and never have they been as fearsome as the tales suggest. though there is something about anders that seems different — perhaps because, despite himself, nate can't help thinking about the blond at the male's side. it's a new sort of concern, one that's not for himself but for someone so cleary in the wrong place. who's kind, sweet. who keeps coming up in passing comments he does his best not to visibly glance at. he still doesn't expect to see him, has learnt better than to hold his breath for company when he walks into the kitchen, doesn't think to glance to the table until a familiar voice breaks the quiet. “ hi. ” the greeting exhales softly, lips pulling ever so slightly up at the edges. “ i'm on shift every night — fair working hours aren't one of the rules your boyfriend decides to follow. ” it's supposed to be a joke, though the words fall instantly flat as he has chance to properly look over niki, unusually pale and tired, with a heaviness nate can recognise far too easily “ what's wrong? ” it's what he should have lead with, long strides carrying him quickly across the kitchen to the other male's side. “ did he do something to you? ”

paloma always remembered drinks. she might not remember someone’s name or the woes they spilled to her under the influence of alcohol, but she always remembered a drink – especially for someone so pretty. she leaned against the bar, grinning at her. “oh course i remembered, sweetheart.” god. niko was starting to influence how she spoke now. how silly. “how is it? i make it okay?”

noah hates how much all of these secrets press at the back of his teeth. but sasha keeps talking, keeps pushing. he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this is going to change everything. but he can't seem to get out of it either. SHIT. “it takes ten minutes of kneeling on rice to bleed.” a beat, “a few hours for it to scar.” another heaving breath, noah's starting to sound like a rescue dog sighing on the couch. he's so fucking tired of doing this, and it only just started. "can we stop talking about this now ??"

cam is so not great at this. but sasha said he should do it – and cam's not gonna be in town forever. he's here a lot, but that doesn't mean anything. santa cruz is always going to be home base. right ?? don't overthink this, you're not marrying someone, just because you went on a first date, cameron. "word." a beat, "well can i get you anything ??" he was raised right, he's not exactly letting niki walk away empty handed. "kinda seems like – shitty – for me to take you out for a drink, and not buy you something."

sasha might say he won't pity him, but noah doesn't buy it. he knows better. he knows the stories. he knows what happened. he was THERE. so no amount of gentle brushing over his cheekbone, or well placed smiles is going to change what he already knows. and he knows that sasha, for all of his adorable bite and his harsh opinions, isn't going to tolerate it well. and THEN noah will have to grapple with the facts of his own history. the knowledge that this is the tip of the iceberg. "it's worse then you think it is." he mumbles, "i don't wanna do this tonight." how many times can he repeat that fact ?? a heaving sigh pulls through him. "can't it be a tomorrow problem ??" he should've remembered to put those STUPID band aids on today.

noah's arms wrap around sasha on instinct. he likes having the other man tucked into his neck, breathing him in, even if vulnerability feels like a knife at the edge of his throat. "can't we just skip that part, and go straight to the coffee." he knows somewhere in the back of his head that sasha's right – that they will eventually have to talk about this. but dear god, he doesn't fucking want to. because noah knows what happens next. he's going to start putting on bandaids again just to cover the scars. he hates being seen as some kind of victim. "sure." he replies, but he doesn't really believe that. "but not tonight. okay ??"

"noah, i'm so sorry that happened to you." he huffs, and then rolls his eyes. he doesn't WANT this. "it might be your first time hearin' about it, but i've had this conversation before, sash." and he always walks away feeling worse than he started. sasha kisses him, and he melts. of course he does. no melodrama, no sad eyed pity. i'll laugh. would that feel any better ?? his chest aches. "i don't wanna do this." a beat, "i don't wanna talk."

he should have expected a bad response, certainly knew better than to expect a good one, still the venom in abel's tone takes him aback. for a moment it had felt like they were making progress - perhaps never enough to get back to how things had been, but enough to be civil, to be a team in this unknown territory. they' not. paxton's reminded of that with painful force as the words land against his chest far harder than any shove could of done. to abel he's the bad guy, and the worst part is that he can't blame the other male for it. it's effective, he'll give abel that much. his own features harden, jaw locking in place if only to stop himself from biting back at the words with something he knows he'll regret seconds after. i wouldn't want you like this anyway. teeth press against the inside of his cheek hard enough to fill his mouth with a faint metallic tang. the empty room suddenly the last place he wants to be as he glances to the open door. there's not another one, even if there was he's sure it's the idea of their feelings for each other that endeared them to niki enough to be worth saving. still, it crosses his mind to ask for an alternative. he shakes the idea off after a few minutes of pacing, returns to busying himself in setting up a bed on the far side of the room, getting ready for what will no doubt be a long evening ahead of them. he's not sure how long's passed before the door pulls open again, doesn't glance back in the direction of the familiar voice when he's busy flicking through an old book left out on the dresser. it's not until a silence has fallen that brown eyes lift to catch a glance of the other male in the reflection of the mirror. “ take your shirt off. ” he states cooly, gaze refusing to meet abel's as fingers move to start undoing his own. they're not quite the same size, though given both shirts are anders' it doesn't seem to matter who wears which. it matters that one of them is ruined, that their host doesn't seem like a reasonable guy and abel already looks like he'll break under a moment of accusation for it. “ take this one, give me that. ” he doesn't leave room to protest, not when he's already slipping free of the sleeves to hand his own shirt over. " when we're both out of here alive, we can be done. ” brown eyes still don't meet the other male's gaze, finality to the words a painful contrast the hope he's spent the last few years clinging to. “ just pull yourself together until then, or you'll get us both killed. ”

"no you won't." god, he doesn't want to do this. he doesn't mind sasha's general curiosity. of course he doesn't. except when he does – which like – he's trying not to mind it right now. "i know the payoff, i'm telling you it's not worth it." blue eyes catch on his face. "listen – this is how this goes. i'll tell you, you'll get the whole sad eyed pity thing going on, you won't know what to say, so then you'll apologize, and i'll just feel fucking weird." a beat, "spare me the melodrama, sasha. i don't wanna do it tonight."