Not always well, [he admits.] But you start to get... numb to it, after a while. The horror doesn't really go away, but you learn to soldier on.
[Which is why he's forever angry at the Council whenever they deny them new justiciars. The seven of them bearing the weight of what they see is exhausting and it wears a mind down. Stephen has seen horrible things in his tenure.]
And I always told myself that it was my job to put a stop to whatever was happening so that no one else would suffer.
Yes and no, [he says. He turns his head into Nate's touch.] I don't know if there's magic involved in any of this. The Met still took care of regular murders. Monsters of the human kind. If it isn't a magical crime, it's not really my jurisdiction.
[And so, in that way, he can at least somewhat separate himself from what's going on. But it doesn't quell the itch to get involved: he's been without purpose here for so long that he'd probably jump at the chance if it wouldn't send Nate into a frenzy of worry.]
But my life here's been so quiet. I'm not used to it.
[He pulls Nate into another kiss and he deepens it this time. He wraps his arms around Nate, closes the space between them like if he could just kiss Nate right, he'd stop worrying.]
Nate presses into it with hunger, arms encircling him. Sometimes he kisses Stephen as though it's the last time he ever will. This is one of those times, Nate's tongue licking into his mouth and his hand taking a tight grip on those curls. He's breathless when it stops. ]
You'd better be. I need you.
[ He touches their foreheads again, and follows up with another kiss, full of passion. Maybe he can kiss him until this problem has gone away. Then he'll know that he's safe, and loved. ]
[ Prickles chase Stephen's fingers down Nate's neck. Nate shivers, and traces his fingertips over Stephen's jaw. It's something incredible that he's allowed to do this. He's almost reverant. ]
I feel you.
[ That means yes. He leans in, kisses his jaw, and then the side of his throat. His hands move down, sliding over his shoulders and down to undo the buttons on his vest. ]
[ Nate gives him a lopsided grin as he backs towards the bedroom, moving around the furniture from memory. He pulls Stephen with him by his lapels, until the waistcoat can come off and he can drop it to the floor. Then, he tugs him by his shirt front instead. ]
Am I? Well I mean I can stop, if you want. Head upstairs now...
[Stephen lifts his eyebrows as Nate pulls him along by his shirt. He's almost tempted to call Nate's bluff. He could be ready to go as soon as he calms down, but does Nate really want to stop when he's got Stephen in the bedroom?]
[ Nate lets out a tiny laugh, and moves in to kiss him again. It's as hungry as before, and a little messy to boot. ]
Absolutely not.
[ He pulls Stephen close up against him again. He's got about half the shirt buttons undone, and he keeps going. He leans in to flick his tongue over his lips. ]
You know I don't. I'd never stop if we didn't have to.
[Stephen slides his hands beneath Nate's shirt and starts trying to get it up.]
I know.
[He leans in for another kiss and shrugs off his shirt once Nate has it fully open. He pushes them both toward the bed as his hands slide down to work Nate's jeans open.]
[ Nate's arms lift to let Stephen tug his t-shirt off. Kissing Stephen again, he pulls the rest of his off, scattering it to the floor, and then he takes hold of his waist. He helps Stephen onto the bed and climbs on top of him, knees astride him, hands sliding down over his chest.
He lets Stephen get his jeans open, and then takes hold of his wrists to pin them above his head. ]
How do you feel about handcuffs? [ He's talking in between kisses, lips trailing and teeth nipping down Stephen's throat. ]
[Stephen’s breath catches when Nate grabs his hands to pin them to the bed. He squirms a bit beneath Nate and he groans quietly as lips and teeth tease down his neck.]
They’re—they’re fine. Yes.
[He can feel the heat in his face: he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to have these conversations without getting flustered. Nate’s concern for his comfort is tender and Stephen isn’t sure if that’s what makes him feel so shy or if it’s the things he’s confessing to.]
[ Nate's grin is sharp. He shifts to hold Stephen's wrists with his right hand, and holds his left out towards his bedside cabinet. The drawer shoots open and a pair of lightweight metal cuffs flies into his hand. He snaps them shut over Stephen's wrists and then lets them go.
Then he's moving down, kissing his way down Stephen's chest. He shifts get his open jeans off his hips and then kicks them away, before tugging open Stephen's pants. ]
[The cold slide of metal doesn't bother him. It isn't iron, he could get out of these very quickly if he actually needed to. But he doesn't make any attempt, instead keeping his hands were they are as Nate moves lower to work his trousers open and off. Stephen lifts his hips, attempting to help.
As much as Stephen might be able to twist Nate around his fingers, Stephen's own desire is quick to match his lover's. It's difficult not to get swept up in everything when Nate is like a force of nature.]
[ Stephen's slowly bared beneath him, and God, Nate loves that sight. His hands trail down over Stephen's stomach, running familiar paths over the muscle definition that his own body doesn't have. He loves it on Stephen. He bends his head, kissing the centre of his chest and moving down, reaching his stomach, flashing a cheeky tongue into his bellybutton before looking up with a smile.
He moves again, lifting Stephen's thighs around him, and he holds out his hand so that a tube of lube can fly into it from that same drawer. There's something about the sight of Stephen beneath him like this, hands bound, with his cock hard and heavy against his stomach, that makes Nate desperate. He coats his cock with lube, and then presses slick fingers inside Stephen. He leans over him, working him with his hand, and he leans down to kiss him again. ]
Oh God, [he gasps against Nate's mouth when he feels his slick fingers. He arches his back, encouraging him, but he's already feeling impatient. The chain between the cuffs rattles a bit as Stephen stretches his arms out. There is something satisfying in thinking he can just give up control to Nate, enforced by the cuffs even if they are almost purely symbolic.]
[ Nate leans over him, softly laughing. It's a common refrain. ]
But I'm going to. [ He presses his fingers deeper; two of them, stretching Stephen, easing around his muscles. He works them back and forth, teasing, and looking for just the right angle. His teeth graze over Stephen's jaw, nipping it lightly, and his hand skirts along his stomach. Nate's cock lies heavily against Stephen's thigh, and he rolls his hips, gaining just enough friction to make him moan. ]
[Heat throbs through him as soon as Nate denies him. Stephen bites his lip, trying to hold back a moan as Nate stretches him open. There is something thrilling in that denial, the brief moment of wondering whether to insist or submit. There is a relief in submitting. Nate is going to do what he wants, and there is nothing Stephen can do about it.
He tries to press closer, if only to give Nate more friction, more of his body to rub against as he takes his time. When his fingers move just right, Stephen gasps sharply and his stomach goes tight, forcing him to curl forward for just a moment before he drops back to the bed.]
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If you like. If it'll make you feel better.
[He knows Cy means a lot to Nate and Stephen isn't of a mind to deny his dominant any comfort he might find after being so shaken.]
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He pulls Stephen in again. ]
Thank you. I don't know how you dealt with this all the time.
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[Which is why he's forever angry at the Council whenever they deny them new justiciars. The seven of them bearing the weight of what they see is exhausting and it wears a mind down. Stephen has seen horrible things in his tenure.]
And I always told myself that it was my job to put a stop to whatever was happening so that no one else would suffer.
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He takes a breath. ]
Is that how you feel now, about this? That it's your job.
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[And so, in that way, he can at least somewhat separate himself from what's going on. But it doesn't quell the itch to get involved: he's been without purpose here for so long that he'd probably jump at the chance if it wouldn't send Nate into a frenzy of worry.]
But my life here's been so quiet. I'm not used to it.
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His thumbs move reflexively over his jaw. Fuck, if Stephen got hurt...
But he knows what he's doing. But he still could get hurt - ]
I know. I know you miss it.
[ He takes a breath. ]
Promise me you'll be careful.
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I'm always careful.
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Nate presses into it with hunger, arms encircling him. Sometimes he kisses Stephen as though it's the last time he ever will. This is one of those times, Nate's tongue licking into his mouth and his hand taking a tight grip on those curls. He's breathless when it stops. ]
You'd better be. I need you.
[ He touches their foreheads again, and follows up with another kiss, full of passion. Maybe he can kiss him until this problem has gone away. Then he'll know that he's safe, and loved. ]
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When they finally part again, he's breathless.]
I thought we were going to Cy...?
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His hand comes around to stroke Stephen's cheek, to trace the line of his cheekbone with his thumb. ]
We are. We...
[ He licks lips that still taste of Stephen. Lips that are still tingling from Stephen's touch. ]
It...we don't have to go right now. Plenty of time for s'mores later.
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Feeling better, then?
[That or it's life affirmation that Nate wants and needs, and Stephen can't blame him.]
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I feel you.
[ That means yes. He leans in, kisses his jaw, and then the side of his throat. His hands move down, sliding over his shoulders and down to undo the buttons on his vest. ]
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Stephen gives Nate a push toward the bedroom. If they're going to do this, it'll be on the bloody bed.]
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Am I? Well I mean I can stop, if you want. Head upstairs now...
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[Stephen lifts his eyebrows as Nate pulls him along by his shirt. He's almost tempted to call Nate's bluff. He could be ready to go as soon as he calms down, but does Nate really want to stop when he's got Stephen in the bedroom?]
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Absolutely not.
[ He pulls Stephen close up against him again. He's got about half the shirt buttons undone, and he keeps going. He leans in to flick his tongue over his lips. ]
You know I don't. I'd never stop if we didn't have to.
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I know.
[He leans in for another kiss and shrugs off his shirt once Nate has it fully open. He pushes them both toward the bed as his hands slide down to work Nate's jeans open.]
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He lets Stephen get his jeans open, and then takes hold of his wrists to pin them above his head. ]
How do you feel about handcuffs? [ He's talking in between kisses, lips trailing and teeth nipping down Stephen's throat. ]
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They’re—they’re fine. Yes.
[He can feel the heat in his face: he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to have these conversations without getting flustered. Nate’s concern for his comfort is tender and Stephen isn’t sure if that’s what makes him feel so shy or if it’s the things he’s confessing to.]
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Then he's moving down, kissing his way down Stephen's chest. He shifts get his open jeans off his hips and then kicks them away, before tugging open Stephen's pants. ]
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As much as Stephen might be able to twist Nate around his fingers, Stephen's own desire is quick to match his lover's. It's difficult not to get swept up in everything when Nate is like a force of nature.]
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He moves again, lifting Stephen's thighs around him, and he holds out his hand so that a tube of lube can fly into it from that same drawer. There's something about the sight of Stephen beneath him like this, hands bound, with his cock hard and heavy against his stomach, that makes Nate desperate. He coats his cock with lube, and then presses slick fingers inside Stephen. He leans over him, working him with his hand, and he leans down to kiss him again. ]
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You don't--you don't need to wait.
[His thighs tighten against Nate's sides.]
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But I'm going to. [ He presses his fingers deeper; two of them, stretching Stephen, easing around his muscles. He works them back and forth, teasing, and looking for just the right angle. His teeth graze over Stephen's jaw, nipping it lightly, and his hand skirts along his stomach. Nate's cock lies heavily against Stephen's thigh, and he rolls his hips, gaining just enough friction to make him moan. ]
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He tries to press closer, if only to give Nate more friction, more of his body to rub against as he takes his time. When his fingers move just right, Stephen gasps sharply and his stomach goes tight, forcing him to curl forward for just a moment before he drops back to the bed.]
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