Cross Your Heart & Swear It

cassian doesn’t look up immediately. he lets the silence stretch, fingers idly near the planchette around his neck as if it might act as a subtle remind the other of the sheer power he had at his finger tips.

he studies them the way he studies anything unknown: not with suspicion, exactly… but with interest sharp enough to cut.

“wrong timing,” he says lightly

a faint tilt of his head.

“or very deliberate timing. which is it?”

Nero sits himself down on the sofa across from this therapist, this Cassian. He had heard from a former friend, now competitor within the merc sector. Course Nero was nothing like a merc, but it helped having friends in all spectrums of the city's social circles. Cassian was meant to be good. If the way the man was eying him like a meal, Nero hoped their exchanged could remain visual. His mind spun too much, too loud for Nero to feel comfortable anticipating cause and affect. It was something he could easily do, but with the weight of the endless night, it was a phantom limb within Nero's exhausted mind.

Nero stays silent for a while, staring at his hands as though they were meant to answer. "It might be a mix of both. Kind of wished I was able to be seen in better condition."

"I do love when people come runnin'." Alistair chuckled as he kept the door open to the hotel room he had rented for that night. Sure, he had a lovely penthouse in the middle of the city and with a terrific view - but he would never invite someone over for a pillow kissing session. It would start with a couple of heated rounds of fucking, and before he would know it - there would be a bloody second toothbrush in his bathroom. At least in a hotel, he didn't have to worry about waking up next to someone or having the awkward conversation the morning after and kicking someone out. It was impersonal. They were just there to fuck each other's brains out, have a bloody blast, and once all was said and done, take a shower and go home. If Nero wanted to stay the night, he would be more than welcome. The room was paid in full after all. Alistair stepped aside to give Nero the chance to walk into the expensive room. He was already half-naked, just wearing one of those very comfortable and fluffy hotel robes over his dark pants. There was no point in pretending this would be more than what it was. It was sex. Plain and simple. And he did love when an obedient pup came along, more than eager to bend over backwards to please him. Not many had the chance to come back for a second night, let alone a third or a fourth. But Nero knew what he was doing, the sex was amazing, and why not keep someone like him around for times of need? "Be a darlin'." The politician was already closing the door behind Nero, pressing himself against his broad back, letting his lover for the night to feel all the hard places of his body pressed against his own. "Pour us a drink, luv. And then maybe be a very good little boy for me and put on a show as ye' undress, aye? I do love appreciatin' a work of art after all."

Stepping inside, his eyes still looking at the exposed piece of torso like a slice of blue ribbon rib eye, Nero's hands teased against the robe's sash. He gives a playful tug before retreating himself to the empty corner of the pristine and glamorous hotel suite. Retrieving a pair of champagne flutes and its corresponding bottle of bubbly, Nero sets them on the nightstand. The drinks would come eventually, he had to entertain after all.

The muscle shirt that hid nothing under it being the first to go, peeled off and set aside as Nero worked on his belt. His plump and round chest lifted slightly with each breath, excited and impatient as Nero tossed the belt onto the hotel bed. His thumb unbuttons his pants with a quick flick. An even more flashier wave of his hands led to Nero's pants pooled around his ankles and getting kicked off his feet. Returning to the champagne, Nero pours them both a fluteful, walking over to the other man while displaying his bare naked body. "Thought it be a shame to waste the opportunity to give you the perfect drink in the perfect way." He winks.

i'm surprised that you stayed.

would you believe me if i said that i don't normally do this?

last night was incredible. i especially liked it when you did the thing.

how long have you been awake?

don't move. i'm comfortable.

what would you say to some breakfast?

i should really go.

i like waking up next to you.

you know, i could go another round. or three.

you look cute first thing in the morning.

i don't think i'm gonna be able to walk today.

what time is it?

i don't think i caught your name.

stop moving.

you talk in your sleep.

you have to leave, right now.

how did my shirt get there?

i'm trying so hard not to kiss you right now.

shut up, i'm trying to sleep.

your feet are cold.

i was worried last night had been a dream.

wanna order food and spoon for a while?

i thought you'd left.

come back to bed.

i didn't want to disturb you.

your phone was ringing.

last night didn't mean anything. you know that, right?

i've been waiting so long for this.

i love you.

kiss. for sender's muse to waken receiver's muse up with a kiss.

spoon. for sender's muse to pull receiver's muse flush against them, spooning them.

breakfast. for sender's muse to bring receiver's muse breakfast in bed.

morning. for our muses to have sleepy, morning sex.

shower. for our muses to shower together.

bathe. for our muses to bathe together.

kitchen. for our muses to prepare breakfast together.

trace. for sender's muse to trace the marks they left on receiver's body.

watch. for sender's muse to just silently watch the receiver's muse as they sleep.

display. for sender's muse to watch as receiver's muse begins to get dressed.

pin. for sender's muse to stop the receiver's muse from leaving the bed.

The greatsword took the first enemy high, the second through center mass. He was already spinning toward the third when Nero's voice cut through the chaos. "Your stance is too wide." Holland's next strike stuttered. His foot landed wrong, and suddenly he was seeing it: Nero's hand on his shoulder, heavy and gentle, fingers pressing between his wing joints. Another enemy came at him and he parried half a second too late, sloppy, the kind of sloppy Nero would've stopped the whole simulation for. The ghost-memory of an almost-smile, the single nod, the quiet "Better. Again." Holland swore and drove his blade through the next target with more force than necessary. He had his own students now. He'd graduated. He didn't need Nero's voice in his head anymore. But his greatsword overextended on the next parry. Basic mistake. Freshman-level mistake.

The simulation should've continued another ten minutes. So when everything just stopped, enemies dissolving mid-lunge, the ruined cityscape flickering out to reveal the training facility's sterile walls, his body reacted on pure instinct. He was mid-swing, full commitment, the greatsword already traveling through the arc that would split his target from shoulder to hip. And then there was no target, just a man standing exactly where digital flesh had been. "NERO?!" His wings exploded open, the sound cracking through the facility like a gunshot. He pulled up, pulled hard, muscles screaming as momentum fought correction. The greatsword's edge stopped so close to Nero's shoulder that Holland could see the fabric shifting in the displacement of air. Close enough to see his own reflection in the blade: eyes still blazing white, face twisted with exertion and fear.

Finger tips graze the divot of the gun's tang, familiarity and muscle memory readies itself as Nero's fingers follow the path down across its grip. The pattern of lines slick and guiding Nero for the dance he was all too familiar with, always performed perfectly. Even on occasions when his mind screamed for hesitate, Nero always hit his mark. Patches of pixels flew past Nero's face as the strong gust of wind that came off of Holland's wings. The strong and sudden burst of force, along was enough to pull Nero out of his trigger happy habit, the curves of the gun's grip trail against his fingertips in reverse.

As the blade was raised and the wings pivoted against the sudden redirection Holland maneuvered himself in, the dark brown eyes on Nero's serious expression filled with wonder, absorbed in the gold luminous fury before him. The adrenaline pumping through him and making the hyperkinetic feel as though everything was slowing the passage of time. Making each curl of Holland's wings seem powerful and intense. The golden light mixed with the dissipating augmented reality around them just so to give Holland an arcing array of pixels, changing hues of rainbow before the indomitable presence of the training lab's default lights over took them.

Nero brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the simulation room's harsh bright default lighting, he winced silently. Even without watching the other, Nero could feel the angry stare coming from the former mentee's eyes. The back of Nero's neck began to crawl once more. With the training lab back to it default visual settings, so was its extrasensory features, that included it's base level cold. Though, Nero was sure of a couple of places on his person that were unaffected by the artificial cold creeping around the two. The wrung out speech of the other man's voice hit Nero's earns, seemed to do the job in draining what warmth remained in the hyperkinetic.

"Sorry." Nero began flatly.