orendalogs | IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

Entry tags:

IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

Who: Anyone, everyone? Aoba and Declan to start.
What: Destiny
When: After the House of Wolves, before The Taken King.
Where: Earth, The Last City, The Tower and beyond.
Warnings: Could be sorta zombie stuff (Hive), could be xenophilia? I dunno. Gen warnings, yo.

Earth. 700 years into the future, humanity is all but gone, huddled in a massive city in the mountains, surrounded by gargantuan walls and living in the shadow of the slumbering, perhaps dead, body of The Traveler. The massive being of benevolence and light that came to Earth bearing gifts of knowledge that would bring about the longest Golden Age in Terran history, hovering in geostationary orbit over The Last City of men, protecting what is left from The Darkness beyond with the remains of it's Light.

For those on Earth it is a well-known story. With The Traveler's dying breath it created Ghosts, fragments of living Light that in turn resurrected men and women across the galaxy, bringing to bear the Guardians, warriors to fight the Darkness. Earth and all the nearby planets are populated by humans, the Awoken, Exos and a variety of species of ever more distant origins, some less generous than others. The Guardians make their headquarters in a colossal spire at the edge of The Last City. There, in the Tower, the Vanguard and other factions of humanity work together to hold the line and fight the Darkness and every other threat to the known universe. The little understood Guardians rarely venture beyond the Tower, preferring the company of their brothers and sisters in arms, but all look to the Tower as a beacon of hope.

There is danger and adventure to be had; the likelihood of death and the possibility of rebirth. The future is uncertain, but all who walk in the Light know the Darkness is coming, and the wise life to the fullest.

[ Destiny Wiki ]

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Aoba kept his eyes down until that last part. It resonated with him more these clumsy admittances and convoluted explanations. Maybe those other things were necessary too as part of being patient, honest, finding middle ground, and giving Declan time to understand him, but that last piece sounded—poetic. ‘Just like Declan’, he thought, in a way that relaxed him some.

He pressed his hand whole into Declan’s, properly holding onto it. The Guardian’s hand was significantly bigger than his own, but he still wanted to call it a perfect fit.

“I…started holding on to Ren at night so I didn’t reach over to you by accident,” he made himself admit, a little go at something lighthearted of his own, far more shy than dry.

"I contented myself with watching you when you slept." As if staring at a person while they were asleep wasn't weird or anything. Declan didn't really seem to know any better, or if nothing else, wasn't ashamed of himself for it.

"I know you said you weren't accustomed to relationships with men," the Titan mused, closing his hand around Aoba's, the other reaching up and scratching the side of his neck in thought.

"I don't mind only being close with our affections. Love doesn't have to be physical...I just wanted permission to be in love with you."

After everything else that had come up, or otherwise been thrown at him, being watched while he was asleep was downright tame. Besides…he wasn’t unguilty of having watched the Guardian while he was napping on the couch back at the apartment, either.

But there it was. ‘Love’, and specifically, with Aoba. It wasn’t just about being physical. Everyone had known it, the majority of himself included, but there it was, said without Aoba having to ask directly for it. It still made him feel better to hear.

“It’s not that I don’t want physical things,” came the next admittance, face heating up again as he thought of how worked up he’d gotten the once. He wasn’t going to fess to that, though. “I just…I freaked out when it came out sounding like that was the only thing part of me cared about. Because it’s not. And you being another guy, it doesn’t have to matter the way it would back home, either. I only care about you being you.”

He fumbled briefly, finding himself almost on the verge of another rambling spiral. Desire was strongly present, watching, but still doing no more than back him up.

Finally, he braced himself said, “I’ve got a million things I still have to learn about myself. I don’t know how good I can really be for you right now, but…I still want to give you everything you’ll accept from me…as the person who loves you, too.”

It was like the sun rose over the mountain and cast the ice out of the valley, the way Declan's posture and expression warmed, chest swelling up visibly as he inhaled and gazed at Aoba. His eyes shone brightly even when he tried to suppress a too-big smile. The one word he was hoping to hear was hanging out to dry and nothing else really mattered. They never had to do anything more than love each other and Declan could be content. Still...Aoba sounded like he wanted to try, but was just...what? Afraid? Inexperienced?

"I don't know if I'd be any good at anything either. I know I can be a good man to you, though. I can take care of you...where you'll let me. Where it doesn't interfere with what you want." Because his own wants and desires were so few and small in comparison, Declan didn't care a whit about prioritizing Aoba. He preferred it, really.

"But, hm, I'm always willing to...explore. We both need time to understand ourselves here, I suppose. There are some things that hurt my heart to imagine--and others that please me greatly, but I don't understand any of it. We don't need to rush. You...you promised you'd come back."

Edited 2018-11-26 15:33 (UTC)

Aoba had never felt so simultaneously dumb and rewarded all at once before, watching the change that came over the Guardian. It thawed a lot of things in him, too, relaxing that worried, prepared-to-be-rebuffed posture of his own.

Told you so, went his ever-present commentary, though Desire felt oddly warm and fuzzy about it, too. ’Happy.’

“I promise I’ll come home,” he said, half correction and half reassurance, squeezing the hand wrapped so warmly around his own. “Wherever you are, Declan. You’ve felt like home ever since the first time you came back to me.”

Mercy he felt more stupid than ever. Was Mac right all along? Did he cause all of their grief by failing to be more aggressive? Or maybe it really was just about taking the time they needed? It all worked out in the end, didn't it? They could move from there and when (if) Aoba returned, they could keep going forward in whatever way worked best for them. No one else's rules need apply between the two of them.

"May I...please embrace you?" Declan breathed out after a moment of tenseness and silence, thinking too hard and too much about things he very much needed to be simple.

"I think it's very important that I can feel you warming in my arms. I keep thinking I just want to be holding you because you'll be gone before too long. If I hold onto you long enough maybe the feeling will stay until you come home..."

God, how dumb could Aoba be? When Declan said sweet things like that, watched sentimental animated films, cried at romantic movies, and worried about what might happen to Aoba when he got old….

He slowly got up from his seat, towards the side where their hands were linked so that neither of them had to let go, but in doing so his gear shifted and made him aware that Declan was fresh and clean and wearing little at all, while Aoba was still in singed, grungy combat gear. It surprised a self-conscious laugh out of him, free hand tugging at the wrap of cloak around his neck.

“As long as you don’t mind if I’m pretty grody compared to you right now? I-I’ll go wash up first, if you’d rather….”

Was that interrupting the potential moment? Did Declan even care?

"I don't mind," he answered without hesitation, then paused and squinted in thought.

"But if you showered and changed...I could put the bed back together and turn on the view screen in the bunk and...I could...hold you while we watch something?" the Titan hedged, words faltering the more he spoke, feeling that he was most likely asking a very great deal. Still, it was worth asking. He was so tired of missing out, of being the fool.

"I'd like a hug, though. At least..."

Aoba was an idiot. The biggest of idiots. Declan wanted to watch a movie and cuddle in bed. It was probably the sweetest, most innocently romantic thing he'd ever been asked to do -- and set his heart foolishly pounding.

"... I'd like that," he said, with shockingly little second thought, which meant none at all until his twitterpated self realized there'd been something much less interesting offered as an alternative. He startled sharply. "I mean the movie! And... cuddling. I'd really like that a lot, Declan," he finished with another squeeze of the Guardian's hand, sheepish, but without hesitance.

It was with only a little internal prodding that he stepped closer to Declan's chair as well, hanging onto his hand as he looked down at his newly-declared partner.

"As a... as a tide-us-over, before I go wash up," he began, heat reddening his face only because it was new, and not because he didn't want to, "... could I give you a... kiss?"

"What? Really?" he mumbled, the words almost garbled as he stared up, then squeezed Aoba's hand and hurriedly shook his head.

"I don't want you to do anything that's too much for you, Aoba. I know...just accepting being in a relationship with me is probably very big for you, right now. You've already got so much going on, please don't feel pressured to fulfill any cultural obligations to our partnership. I don't mind waiting for good things..."

Had Aoba thought he was an idiot yet? Because he was an idiot. With all his anxieties creeping away, only the self-rendered shame of all his foolish decisions remained to cling to him.

"When you say things like that... it only convinces me all the more that I want to kiss you," he answered softly. "But if you don't want me to, I can wait, too."

Except then the gold did truly phase into his eyes again, but that and a shift in his timbre was the only thing to change when he said, "Waiting isn't in my nature, but I'll wait for you, too."

And then it had passed, hazel re-established, complete with a deepening of Aoba's blush. Whether he was two, or one, or some strange half-and-half... Declan said he accepted him, and this was who he was.

"I'm really confused right now...but I think a kiss is fine," Declan blinked slowly, cheek a lavender hue and he sniffed softly. He wasn't sure if he was being selfish or not, going along with it and hearing what he wanted. All of Aoba seemed in accord, for once. And making things not happen because of his unease wasn't a trap he wanted to fall into again.

So he reached out with his free hand, fingertips delicately brushing Aoba's cheek as his palm cupped in and fingers splayed to either end of his ear, gently guiding his face down. He only half closed his eyes, watching the other man for his personal enjoyment as much as making sure he could see any signs of discomfort and back off. He waited, leaving enough space between them for breath to pass over their lips, before tilting his head up just slightly, lips caressing more than pressing. It wasn't forceful in any way, wasn't probing. Just one of the oldest expression of affection in history. He pecked three times, each press a little longer than the last, before leaning back enough to make eye contact, silently asking if he ought to continue, or let Aoba go for the time being.

Aoba asked to give a kiss, but instead, found himself the recipient of three.

He didn't resist a moment of it. Oh, he was briefly confused, having thought that a show of initiative and willingness on his end might reassure Declan of his honest intent, but as soon as the Guardian reached for him he went passive, lest he ruin whatever was about to happen. But he barely had to be guided, because he went off his own accord.

He'd never been kissed so carefully. Maybe Declan had, indeed, forgotten more than Aoba had currently learned. Just sweet little kisses, but his heart skipped again and a warm rush seemed to tingle over his skin and down his spine. He gripped Declan's hand not to indicate that he should stop, but to affirm the contact.

Then came the pause afterwards where Aoba absently dabbed his lips with his tongue and realized a couple things: one was the question in Declan's eyes, and the other was that he still wanted to give.

His own free hand came up in turn, mirroring but not exactly, because he threaded his fingers into Declan's hair, some part of him having already noted at those moments before where it had occurred that the Titan seemed to like the sensation. Then Aoba answered the question by leaning in, himself, giving one softly lingering kiss in place of three fluttering ones.

Declan considered it Aoba giving him a kiss because he'd offered; the Titan simply accepted and behaved proactively, which he felt he needed to do, in light of the new dynamic. At least a little.

He didn't need Desire pissed at him. Again.

Aoba, at least, knew some of the Awoken's quirks. The fingers in his hair shut the man down for a moment, eyes previously held open fluttering closed and slightly smiling lips parts just a hair. When lips touched his own, he sighed into the kiss and tilted his head just so, returning it with his ever-present patient gentleness.

Kissing, he decided, with quite nice. He had a feeling things going forward would continue being enjoyable and illuminating.

Edited 2018-11-28 00:17 (UTC)

It was those first clumsy steps into a middle-ground. Proactivity from Declan and Aoba alike, both acting on criticisms received from their respective sources. For Aoba, it came from being told to be the one to do things first, so that Declan would be able to do them too.

Either way, the results were good ones. That little sigh, that show of gently pleased reaction, made Aoba feel good. It made him want to find other ways, other things to do that Declan could react so favorably to. Physically, yes…but in ways that weren’t so physical, too.

The kiss drifted to a natural end as Aoba pulled back from it, his fingers making a few more combs to taper off the gesture, self-conscious but happy all at once.

“I’ll…go get cleaned up now,” he managed. “Would you pick out another favorite of yours for us to watch?”

There were a lot of things Declan was wiling and able to do without internal conflict - and wanted to do, no less - but when they tried to inevitably segue to bigger things, the trouble would rear it's head again. For the moment, the Titan was utterly content, tongue running over his bottom lip, shamelessly seeking to keep the taste of Aoba without realizing what he was doing.

Tilting his head into the touches until it drifted away, Declan nodded in acquiescence and pushed himself to his feet. They both walked into the quarters together, since the shower was located there, but Declan reached over and tapped a setting on the screen, the glass of the shower tinting instantly and offering privacy otherwise unavailable. He waited outside until the water started, then wandered back in to tidy up.

While Aoba washed up, the Titan cleaned. The mattresses were dragged back into place and set up in the bunk, fixed with clean linens and all of the blankets and pillows. If they were content to share a bed, it ought to be as comfortable as he had to offer. He did consider having a slightly more recent model ship pulled out of storage from his lot, so they could have more creature comforts while traveling, but he figured he'd best ask Aoba's opinion.

When the blue-haired man was ready to come out and dress, Declan excused himself, whether he was allowed to stay or not. It simply wasn't appropriate for them. Yet. He preferred to observe basic courtesy indiscriminately. He did, however, return with two mugs of hot apple cider, a particular treat, and some warmed up pieces of bread from the freezer. Cozy and light, held on a small sheet of welding metal in lieu of a tray. The pillows were fluffed and stacked at the head of the bunk, blankets turned down, and a film paused and ready to play on the little screen in the wall at the foot of the bunk.

"Have you ever seen Princess Bride? Mac introduced me to it. He really likes fantasy movies, but this one was much less wild than his other ones. I like it a lot."

Declan’s brief accompaniment did have Aoba wondering, in those moments before the shower glass went dark. It made him a whole new kind of self-conscious, but he wasn’t even sure if he should have been. They were both men, so neither one of them had anything that would surprise the other. Men didn’t have to be self-conscious of other men. Why would being romantically involved make that different? Should it? Was it only Desire that was wholly tickled by the idea of perhaps being watched, or was the proper reaction not to care at all, or should he just be modest and go along with whatever values Declan wanted to adhere by?

Then it was just plain strange, while he was actively showering, to hear Declan moving about past the noise of the running water. Aoba imagined he would jump, if the door were to suddenly open or the glass were to go transparent again. That was his—his partner out there. His…boyfriend? That seemed like too soft or informal a word for someone like Declan. So maybe just…his man? Not exactly his lover, at least, not until they actually got intimately physical, right?

But Desire behaved and so, thankfully, did his body itself. When the coast was clear he stepped out into the bunkroom proper, eyeing the remade bed with something like a sense of wonder as he put on drawstring sweatpants and a soft T-shirt, being not nearly so inclined to barechestedness as Declan was. But, that was a pretty permanent-looking arrangement. That comment Declan had made, about not holding each other at night…that was what they were going to do until the time came for Aoba to leave, wasn’t it? He didn’t mind it, but it still made his pulse race a bit, and that was very new to him.

Then Declan reappeared with the tray while Aoba was easing his towel-dried hair back into a ponytail, and he stopped short at the sweetly domestic image Declan managed to cut despite being such a well-built warrior. It was suddenly calming, reassuring, and heartwarming all at once.

The feeling of knowing you were loved, maybe?

“That’s…not one I know, no,” he managed as he came unpaused. “I think the movies you two like came a couple centuries ahead of me, at least.”

After some consideration, Aoba crawled into the prepared bunk, imagining he’d be more secure with the wall on one side and Declan to the other. Secure, but not trapped. Never that.

Once in place, he held out his hands for the loaded tray. “Let me hold that while you get in?”

He nodded, carefully transferring the tray into Aoba's hands, looking over the bed a moment before scooting into it. There was plenty of space for two people that didn't mind being snug while laying down. While sitting up it was quite roomie. The Titan rolled the covers down and out of the way, shuffling around a minute trying to figure out precisely how they ought to sit, before he decided the only way for them to be comfortable and watch the movie unobscured was for Aoba to sit between his legs. He had a very brief moment of panic that it would be too inappropriate, then remembered how hard Desire came on to him and figured it was probably fine, so he leaned against the back wall at the head of the bed and spread his legs to pat the mattress invitingly.

"I like a lot of things from a lot of times, because I like documentaries and historical films. Lots of nonfiction. But most of what Mac likes comes from the 20th and 21st centuries. He likes movies more than I do, which probably says a lot. I enjoy watching them but it's...lonely watching them by myself," he admitted, clearing his throat softly and holding his hands out for the tray to keep while Aoba tucked in.

Aoba was briefly taken aback. Wasn't side by side like this fine? What did Declan want him in his lap for? He'd been hesitant just to accept a kiss!

He sure did make the move when we confirmed it, though, pointed out that smug background voice. Give him an inch and he takes a mile? It's like how you went for a hug that time and he pulled you on his lap, too.

He's way too pure, though, Desire went on. I think that's just how close he wants to be.

The train of thought might as well have been -- essentially was -- his own. It was just a little louder, a little differently pitched. The results were the same: that visible pause for thought later, the tray was transferred to Declan for safekeeping, and a faintly flushed Aoba shuffled carefully over one of Declan's extended legs and to the space between them.

"Mac mentioned you watching them as downtime while you're flying from place to place," he managed, trying not to think to much of anything significant and just stay on the conversation. "Is that right?"

"Mhm," he answered, a bit distracted as he held the tray and tried to adjust, making sure Aoba didn't have to struggle too much. When the blankets were pulled up, he leaned to place the tray delicately in Aoba's lap, then settled back with a relaxed sigh.

Definitely too pure, though. Not even a little bit of a half chub; the Titan was a paragon. Aoba tucked in against him didn't set off any raging hormones or that nonsense. He was perfectly content to just be close to the one he loved. That was always the ultimate goal. Anything else was just indulgent.

"We can jump through space quick as a finger snap, but everyone needs a little rest between missions if there's nothing extremely pressing. I crank the ship speed down sometimes, and watch a movie or read a book. Sometimes I just...free drift and listen to music. Not Mac's music, though. His music is...Well, it isn't bad, I just don't prefer it," Declan finished as gently as possible.

"I like very old music from very old composers. Long before music was traditionally recorded. Like Mozart and Chopin, Beethoven, Bach, Handel. But I like the genre of music more than specific composers, so even music from after the advent of the phonograph or the radio. I find it extraordinary."

“So, classical music, huh? Symphonic?” Okay. Relaxing wasn’t too hard. Aoba carefully leaned his weight back against the broad support of Declan’s chest, a little wondering at how the Guardian meant to eat or drink with his head partially in the way. Maybe if Aoba himself canted a bit to one side, or slumped a little….

But. Okay. This was pretty cozy. Maybe not for sleeping, but for the movie, it should be okay.

“It doesn’t bother you when I play my own music through the ship’s systems, does it?” he asked, just to be sure. Electronica and classical were very different, too, and while he doubted Declan would complain, Aoba could still be accommodating. “I can stick to my headphones if you’re not a fan.”

"I don't mind," he answered, shaking his head and reaching around for his mug. He turned his head to the side to sip from it, not seeming the least bit bothered by the minor inconvenience.

"I like that you feel comfortable enough to do those things. It makes me less anxious, knowing you consider this your space as much as mine," he mused, before adding, "And your music isn't bad. It's different, but still good. Mac's music is good, too. Sometimes I like it; it's just about the mood, I suppose." He shrugged, the muscles of his chest flexing behind Aoba.

"If you'd like, we can listen to some of my music sometimes? I enjoy playing Wagner on the ship."

Your space as much as mine, Aoba repeated in his head, quietly wondering. That was what it felt like to him? Was it like inviting Aoba to use the shaders on the apartment, too?

Aoba wasn’t about to assume that his proposed desire for partnership meant anything of Declan’s would be his, as well—but at the same time, imagined that was just what would be said and offered, since it basically all had been already. How Aoba could ever meet that, contribute to that, he didn’t know…but he’d devote himself to figuring it out, when he returned again.

“I’d like that,” he agreed, picking up his own mug. “It’s only fair you get a chance to play your music too, and I want to know about the things you enjoy.” Case in point, Aoba motioned towards the paused screen. “Ready to start the movie?”

He smiled to himself, glancing away behind Aoba, grateful he couldn't be readily seen. Reaching with his free hand, he tapped the controls on the wall and settled back to loop one arm around Aoba, the other occasionally feeding himself until it was all gone.

"I will always answer your questions," he murmured offhandedly, falling quiet when the credits finished and the dialogue between grandson and grandfather began. It was a movie with a lot of romance, adventure, acts of derring-do , and humor. In all, it was an easy movie for Declan to watch that had all the things he enjoyed and none of the things he didn't. There was no one to feel sad for, there was no real tragedy, and there was a genuinely happy ending. He could spend more time tucking Aoba against him and less time silently sobbing over a turn in the plot.

He’d only wanted permission to love him. Those words came back to Aoba at the wrap of Declan’s arm, the sensation a surprise but also not unwelcome. Desire could want all that he did, but the truth of the matter was, Aoba had never been in a solid relationship before. Cuddling with the person he wanted to love….

Aoba sipped at the cider because it was there, and nibbled some of the bread for similar reasons, but as he found out where he fit and how relaxed he really was, his own free arm nested over Declan’s like the armrest of a chair—except chairs didn’t have fingers you could twine your own down into to better secure your place.

The movie was…unusual, but oddly charming. He thought there was a lot to read into the fact that Declan liked this kind of movie, so even if it wasn’t exactly to his own tastes, he wasn’t bored by it in the least. He did wind up more slouched, though, head canted a bit to one side, his body seeming ever more determined to find ways to cozy up to the Guardian’s warmth and support.

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