. .. IC Contact | Duplicity .. .

[konstant]

                                                                 

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[konstant]

"I was right here." Loading the dishwasher, wiping down the counter. He's not sure when, exactly, V vanished but he knows - "I was between him and the door, and I didn't even know until he was gone."

Some officer he is. Some friend, to not even know.

[hippie_ninja]

"K, I'm dead. Not just dead; I should be in a coffin. We have no idea how we're brought here. No one knows. And no one expects you to be able to stop however it is they bring or take people." His other hand on K's other cheek, desperate to be heard.

"It is not your fault."

[konstant]

He lets himself be steadied, although raising his eyes to meet Jesus's again feels harder than breaking out of that cell had. He makes himself do it anyway, focuses on the warmth of Jesus's palms at his cheeks, at the way he leans into every word he says like he doesn't need K to believe it because he does all on his own.

But he wants him to believe it. He wants it to be enough to hold back K's doubt, which is cancerous and deep, which will kill him a second time if it gets half a chance.

He doesn't agree, but he doesn't argue either, and leans his forehead against Jesus's. Wraps his arms around Jesus, tight, and hangs on.

[hippie_ninja]

He slides his arms around K then, chin on K's shoulder, and wishes he knew what to say, what to do. This is all he has. This is all he can offer: being here, even if it means defying the city.

"I don't blame you for this."

[konstant]

Do you have dark thoughts?

Did they program you to have dark thoughts?

Do you think it's some kind of corruption, these dark thoughts?

K shivers, hangs on a little tighter, although this still isn't even a fraction of his strength. He wants to hold Jesus here, yes, but not to hurt him, physically or otherwise.

Jesus doesn't blame him. K turns his face into his hair, and breathes in, and tries to let that be enough for him, too. "I think this is fear," he confesses, whisper-soft.

Maybe it's a spot of rust or something.

[hippie_ninja]

He's scared, too.

If he holds K like this, if they don't let go, could he just vanish right out of his arms?

"What are your thoughts doing?"

[konstant]

He doesn't startle; he's spoken the script aloud before after all, pieces of it anyway, his part of the call and response. Hearing something along the similar lines from Jesus isn't the strangest thing that's happened.

What kind of power do you have against the dark?

"Circling." Why are these things happening? "I don't want you to go."

Do you think you can protect people against the dark?

"I don't want this to be what our lives are."

[hippie_ninja]

Jesus doesn't either. But it is. And this is how his life has been for over a decade: uncertainty and fleeting moments, and sudden losses. He doesn't know how to make it easier, not for himself and not for K. You just keep going, that's all there is.

"I'm not going." Not right now. He has the mission, but not right now. "I want to stay with you."

[konstant]

Dreadfully distinct against the dark.

K is aware that he uses his baseline to self soothe; he's aware that in some ways it's destructive, but at least in a way he understands. Emotions are trying to tear him apart and doing a decent job of it, and until Jesus came in the door, until he insisted he wasn't leaving again, the only thing keeping him moving forward was that script over and over and over again in his head.

Jesus says he'll stay. Jesus wants to stay. K takes several moments to let that sink in but when it does, he nods.

"Okay." It may be trouble, and maybe it won't change anything, but he does believe him. "I want that. I want to stay with you, too."

[hippie_ninja]

"Come lay down with me." Nibbles is on the bed, and at first Jesus tries to arrange himself around him but the cat hops off the bed and sits, tail flicking, watching and waiting for the humans to get settled.

[konstant]

K was already dressed for bed, which in this case just means he's barefoot. It means he's willing to let go of Jesus long enough to let him climb up onto what really is a nice king-sized bed, with a thick comforter and soft pillows. It's a nice room. K just doesn't want to be in it alone.

But he does follow, and he does curl up on his side facing Jesus and already reaching for him again, unknowingly echoing what the other man had wondered before: is holding onto each other enough to keep them here, or can they vanish right out from under each others' hands?

[hippie_ninja]

He holds gently onto K and then his hold is firmer, his arms all the way around him, the two of them tucked in together. Nibbles jumps back onto the bed, sniffs at K's ear and offers an inquisitive meow.

[konstant]

The noise K makes in return is clearly one Nibbles is used to from him - low, soft, almost a word but not quite - because he comes straight over to where K lifts a hand to invite him. He meows again and K offers a murmured, "I know," and rubs his ears. This is how the cat settles where he stands then, draped across both of their hips, curled up and purring.

"He misses him too. He keeps looking."

[hippie_ninja]

"Oh, Nibbles..." He hadn't considered this until K says it, and now he sees it and it pains him. He pets the cat, cooing to him nonsense sounds.

"He has both of us. And I don't care what your Dom says, it's not going to keep me away from you."

[konstant]

There's something soothing about watching Jesus doing the same thing with Nibbles that K does; the genuine fondness despite the way K sees Jesus looking at him sometimes, the thread he can't quite place.

It doesn't matter. K trusts him, and he proves why in the next moment.

"He says I'm an unruly Submissive, and I need stricter rules to be successful." K has no idea what to do with this information, it's so far from what he's used to - and yet, he knows, true enough from a program perspective. "That I can earn back the freedoms I've taken advantage of so far with obedience."

[hippie_ninja]

Of course. Of course that's what the Dom said. "If you want to obey his rules, we will. But if you don't, I'll be here however many times you want."

[konstant]

"I don't want the rules to get worse," he hedges.

But he also adds: "This is against them, now. I'm not supposed to have visitors here either." He doesn't care as much as he once would have.

[hippie_ninja]

"Tell me what you want, and I'll do it," he says, but makes no move to get up until then.

[konstant]

"What I want isn't anything to do with this place," he says after a moment of groping after an answer. The fingers of one hand curl tighter into the fabric of Jesus's shirt under them.

"I'm worried it's part of what got V into trouble. Got him removed from the program."

[hippie_ninja]

He strokes K's back. "How could it be? You obeyed his rules. People just vanish here, K...a lot of people. It's like death."

And that makes it perhaps too easy for Jesus to accept.

[konstant]

"You didn't hear how hard he pushed to get me to consider signing with him. Some of the things he said."

Things that K isn't sure even now he believes, but that he'd been willing under the circumstances to give it a chance. To let V prove he meant them, and now he's gone.

"He was in open defiance of the program. In a prison run by it."

[hippie_ninja]

Jesus frowns. "He didn't trick them, K. They saw your contract. They approved it. This is not your fault."

[konstant]

"I've worked for the government. I've seen what gets through sometimes until it makes it to the desk of someone who gives a shit." It used to be him.

But he's not actually trying to argue. He tucks his head closer to Jesus's chest.

"I just don't want it to happen anymore."

[hippie_ninja]

"I don't, either." And they're both helpless to change it but he holds onto K as if that will make a difference, tucks K's head closer, chin atop K's hair. "You have me right now."

[konstant]

K turns his face into the warm pocket made by Jesus's shoulder, neck, and jaw and closes his eyes, just listening to him breathing, feeling the syncopated beat of their hearts.

"I'm glad you came," he confides to the safe space created between them, breathing in the specific mix of skin and sweat and earth and liquor and something else that's uniquely Jesus.

His lips brush the tendons of Jesus's neck, first just proximity, then a deliberate, grateful kiss.