overconfidently

[ it's a while since steve's been in contact with nate. long enough that their exchange has sunken in, and long enough that he's gotten himself a little more than too drunk on the gift qi'ra had given him. he doubts it will last long enough, and he's certain he shouldn't be doing or saying anything that might make it worse.

still, he can't just let this go so easily. ]

Don't leave.

[ he isn't even sure he'll respond. ]

( oh boy.

wherever steve is — within their apartment, he figures — nate will be suddenly be there. he's not, in reality. more, he's there within steve's mind — a mental projection of himself that looks and feels and sounds very much like him. in all honesty, it is him there, just. within the mind. that's just how good a telepath he is.

standing there behind steve, he sighs. he... hates seeing him like this — didn't want to see him for this exact reason, but. he still cares about him. a lot. even if he's hurting. )

You shouldn't be drinking alone.

[ it's strange how, even after all this time, he still hasn't gotten used to the fact nate can do such things. he's incredible in so many ways, and the fact that he's caught steve at a bad time almost feels like cheating. he'd wanted to be more put-together when they finally saw each other, but he can't be too upset about it.

at least he's there. sort of. at least he's willing to talk about it. ]

Nate – [ steve sits up from where he'd stretched out on the floor, bracing his back against the sofa. ] I'm not alone anymore.

( it's not that he didn't want to see steve. it's that... he didn't want steve to see him. he doesn't really want anyone to see him right now.

he moves towards the other man, steps slow and soft, dressed in his usual blue and black outfit which, in all honesty, should show that he's not really here, but. it's real enough, this interaction.

crouching down, slow to do so, he looks to the other man with those bright blue eyes of his but, rather than filled with curiosity or playfulness, they're filled with a deep and heavy sorrow, concern swirled around within them. arms draped across his knees, he's quiet for a moment before he closes his eyes. )

I can make you forget me. ( he says then, eyes slowly opening. ) If it's easier for you.

[ steve watches him steadily, following the way he moves and tracing each step. ever since they'd met, he's felt a connection to nate that he could never really explain, and beyond the obvious fact that he cares about him, there's always been something else there. they've shared a lot of things with each other, have been steadfast in one another's lives. but what he says —

the look steve wears twists into something even more painful. upset almost. ]

How is that easier? [ there's a certain roughness in his voice that normally isn't there. ] I would never want to forget you. I still want you here.

[ it's the selfishness that's speaking, but it's also the care steve holds for nate as well. he can tell he's hurting. it's so very obvious, and there's nothing worse than trying to handle it on your own. ]

( there's a thought that touches him then: he could just do it. he could just make steve forget and he wouldn't even know. a brush of fingers to his temple, a little slipping into his mind, finding each and every memory that has him wrapped within it and just... erasing them. one by one. painless. he could do it. he could do it and he knows he can.

but he doesn't.

he knows he shouldn't and he remembers a certain webslinger back home telling him that he shouldn't be messing with people's heads like that. yet people still come to him for it. to be rid of their pain.

gently, he lets his gaze drop, still crouched there in front of steve and he's just... silent for a long moment. )

This has nothing to do with you. Or how you were as my dominant. My friend. ( he looks up again. ) I just want to be by myself for a bit.

[ if steve hadn't been as lost in his own thoughts and feelings, he might have picked up on the fact that nothing was actually stopping nate from taking away all his memories of him. it would probably come to him later when he's thinking clearly, but for now, steve leans forward and reaches out to rest a hand on his arm.

he knows he isn't there, not really, but he's sure he'd feel it like he was. ]

Maybe it doesn't, [ he says quietly, believing that for what it is, ] But you don't have to do this on your own. I know how it feels to lose people like that.

[ when you love them so much you'd rather die than be without them. ]

( steve is special to nate. despite the gruff response he'd received from scott— from his father over having befriended and chosen steve for his dominant [would this make cyclops proud now?], he still chose to sign with him — to be his friend and someone he wanted to have in his life. he still wants that — he still needs that and he doesn't know how to convey that to him when he's here telling him he doesn't want to renew their contract. it's why his mind automatically defaults to just taking his memories away, but. he can't do that to steve. it... wouldn't be right to do that to a friend. to him.

the touch, soft as it is to his arm is felt and he lets his gaze drop to that hand. gently, he places his own over the back of steve's hand, his touch warm and very very real. because he is there. just not in the physical sense. )

I know and I wish you didn't.

( again, he could fix that for him — make it easier for him and yet, steve wouldn't be steve if he did. wouldn't be the man he's come to know here in the time he's spent in duplicity. how different would he be without his memories of him then? he wonders, but. it's fleeting because he's looking bacl up to the man then, hand still there on the back of steve's. )

I'm not disappearing, ok? I'm still here when you need me. If you need me. ( he offers him as much of a smile as he can currently, even if it's strained. ) It just... hurts too much right now. In ways I can't explain. I just need to be somewhere else.

[ it's something that steve really can't wrap his mind around, and maybe it's because he's so intently focused on his own pain that he doesn't see nate's the way that he should. if he felt the need for space, he could have it. steve would give that to him, but their contract... it had felt more than just paper or the easy agreement they'd settled on when he'd first asked nate to live with him. friends would never leave friends, and yet, that's exactly how it feels to steve in the moment.

regardless of the reason, nate is clearly saying that he's not good enough.

and it's a dirty thought that creeps in beneath the warmth of nate's hand on his and the tender words he speaks. that he's his dominant and he could make him stay. he could force him to come back and relent to what he wants. he could enforce it until there's nothing left of their friendship but the one duplicity desires them to have, and it's so nauseatingly strong that steve has to look away from nate. he swallows it down, wonders if nate could feel it since he's already in his mind. ]

Then... think about it. [ he can't bring himself to be happy about this. there's clearly no convincing him to continue forward. ] When you need a contract, I'll be here. I want to help you, and if that's the only way I can, I'll do it.

[ and the weight of it is crushing, causing his eyes to burn. ]

But I meant it before, Nate. You're not alone. You will never be alone.

( it seems like the both of them have their own dirty thoughts in how they should handle this — how they should handle the other and that alone has nate give pause. not because of what steve could very well do, according to duplicity's laws, but. because the both of them are hurting in their own ways and simply trying to look for any way to stop the metaphorical bleeding from this wound that's spread across both of them now.

despite steve's own thoughts, nate keeps his hand there atop the other man's and he lets his gaze drop again. he's lost so many people he's cared about back home prior to his second time waking up and then to lose wade not so long after... with a father he barely speaks to here and feeling guilt for the things he had [almost] done to someone who had hurt that man... he doesn't know where he belongs right now and it doesn't help that he still hasn't figured that out back home just yet. that he feels like, regardless of who comes into his life, he's meant to tackle life and how short it is for him, alone. )

You're more than just a contract to me, Steve.

( he offers the words, gentle and soft and he lets his fingers rub over the back of steve's hand. )

You've always been more than that. ( perhaps against his better judgment, he leans in and presses his forehead to steve's, letting his eyes fall shut as he does. ) I'll find you when you're not sitting on the floor of the apartment with one too many drinks in you. But in the meantime, you don't be alone right now, ok?

( reach out to someone, steve. do what nate can't right now: be with someone to ease the pain. )

It's not just about the contract.

[ he manages it before nate's pressing close, before their foreheads touch, and steve closes his eyes at the contact, reaching up to hold onto him. if he grips him tight enough, perhaps that would convince him to stay. to not be alone. but in the end, the way he touches him is gentle and fragile, nebulous like this very moment between them.

if he had the answers, this might have been easier. ]

I'll be fine, [ he promises, tipping his head slightly so their noses touch. steve can already feel the serum at work, how much more clear-headed he's getting by the minute. ] Don't wait too long to find me.

[ because he's going to worry. he already is, but even just this is almost enough to assuage it in the meantime. and rather than let nate go, he tries to pull him in closer with that same mindset that if he hangs on tight enough that he won't be alone when he opens his eyes again. ]

( he shouldn't let him — it'll make it more difficult to break this mental connection here, but. when steve pulls on him — pulls him in closer, he lets him. again, perhaps against his better judgment.

afraid to touch him in fear that he might not want to let go of the other man, he instead keeps his hands there at the man's elbows. gentle. soft. eyes remaining closed as he just stays there like that crouched in front of him of the apartment that he's known for the past nearly six months now. )

You know you can't lie to me, right?

( the words are soft — an attempt at something lighter than the heaviness this conversation and everything surrounding it feels, but. also a truth, one which he softly gives to the other in regards to how he's doing and how he will be. )

[ he's strong enough that he could just as easily drag nate into his lap and hold onto him. it's a thought that crosses his mind, wondering if it'll cause him to run and cut their connection. leave him unsteady and worried, cause him to tear the city apart looking for him just to make sure he's safe. that's what it's about, steve tells himself. taking people in and shielding them as best he can because he's certain that's what he was born to do. protect and care until it grinds him down to dust.

when he breathes, there's a bittersweet feeling to it. ]

I'm not. [ nate would know if he was. besides, steve has never been very good at lying. ] I'll be fine eventually.

[ it's the amendment that has him pausing, knowing that to be the truth. months from now, years from now—he'll be fine. it's the same sort of rhythm the world always has, especially since he woke up out of the ice to find everything he ever knew to be different.

but steve's also stubborn and refuses to let go. which is why, in the end, he shoves forward into nate's personal space and pulls him into a tight embrace. ]

( the same can be said for natee, can't it? that at some point, whenever that may be, he'll be fine. for now, in this moment and these past few days, he isn't and hasn't been, but. one day, he will be. that's just how it goes. especially for people like them.

when the embrace suddenly comes, tight as it is, nate is left both stunned and speechless and just accepts it as those arms wind fierce around him. trapped within muscle and against the warmth of a man he cares for dearly. it nearly shatters some part of him to feel even through this mental moment here between them and he's silent for a long stretch as he just remains there. against steve. having fallen to one knee.

with hands still touching at the other man's elbows, he blinks those blue eyes of his a couple times and looks past them to their apartment windows there nearby. it's only after a moment that he presses the palm of his hand against the other man's back. a gentle and soft touch. )

[ it's real enough that steve sags against him the moment he doesn't pull away, soaking up the way it feels and how reassuring it is that nate isn't running. he will, probably. this is only temporary, the way their arrangement had been temporary, and steve thinks he should have tried harder to show just how much he enjoyed having nate around.

the quiet didn't feel so lonely. their relationship felt... natural.

but it was always something he had to give up, and he thinks about that even as the hand against his back settles there. light and careful. a presence he still misses and will if nate continues to believe he needs to be alone. time will always heal, but it's a ragged mess of phantom pains it leaves behind. so, he turns into nate and hugs him even tighter, tucking his face against his shoulder and waiting until he relents just a little more. ]

( he could just... disappear. he knows he can — knows maybe he should, but. nate's always been a rather emotional sort of person, despite how cold he can, at times, come off. when he needs to be. must get that from his father.

he could just disappear from steve's arms and leave it at that — leave the man to be here by himself with his alcohol until he finds the means to reach out to someone else and yet... he doesn't. not yet at least. he knows he needs to, but. he hates that he's hurt steve with this, even if it's something he needs and wants for himself.

face tucked against his shoulder, he turns his head some, trying to get a look at steve. his hand remains there on the other man's back, weight pressing on his knee, and he swallows then, letting those blue eyes fall shut again. )

This doesn't change how I feel about you. ( he says then. ) Even though I know you'll tell yourself otherwise. But it doesn't. I promise.

[ it's almost like he expects those words as soon as nate says them, finding some relief in their closeness but not completely. all his life, he's watched people come and go around him. he's had to let go of people before, never ready for it and never certain how to proceed after, and right now, he doesn't know if he can allow nate to have that space. he should. he knows he should, but it's hard when his own feelings are so deeply tangled in it.

but... ]

I'm not questioning how you feel. [ it's soft, though a little more put-together than everything that's come before. ] I don't like the thought of you being alone. [ the way he pauses then is heavy. ] Even if that's what you need.

[ but his grip on nate does loosen, warring with himself as he does. it's what has to happen, and he needs to let it or he won't budge. ]

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text / un: rogers

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