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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"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.

The movie went on into it's happy ending and Declan considered a minute before flipping on a French movie titled Amelie. He didn't mind if it was watched or not, instead taking the makeshift tray now devoid of goods and setting it on the floor nearby, which freed them both up for more relaxed reclining. The Titan took the opportunity to scoot a little more into the bunk corner and down, moving Aoba a bit.

The end result was Declan being able to stretch out on his side, head propped on one hand, one leg bent, the other out straight. It gave Aoba most of the bed to work with, and pressed him to make his own choice about how close he wanted to be. Declan, for his part, just reached out with his other hand, fingertips lightly caressing Aoba's knuckles, eyes fixed on the angles of bone and soft curvature of skin, expression sleepy.

Aoba was, in the gentlest of ways, a little bewildered by the shuffle of movement. He’d been comfortable, disinclined to move, and wasn’t sure where he was winding up until he was there: on his back, with most of the bunk suddenly and arguably to himself, with only his hand being touched.

Not even Desire wanted to make something much of it. All Aoba heard was grumbling that things were too cold. There wasn’t enough contact between them in comparison to before, now.

Declan looked ready to sleep. Was it even properly nighttime? Did the Reef even have something resembling a day-night cycle? But Aoba felt a tiredness, too. The day, such as it had been by his perspective, had been long and full and complicated. Some proper rest was very much due.

So with a little shuffling of his own, touching up how comfortable he was nestled into the pile of pillows, Aoba heaved a relaxed sigh and considered Declan from under heavy eyelids. A moment after that, and he lazily patted at his own chest with his unoccupied fingers.

“Don’t be so far away,” he murmured, attempting to coax Declan nearer, tiredness keeping him at a minimum of words.

He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, smiling vaguely before nodding once and lowering himself fully to the bed, scooting in enough that the length of his body tucked against Aoba's. He hesitated a moment, clearly considering his options and his personal inhibitions before shaking his head to himself and sliding his arm across the other man's belly, tugging him in snugly.

"I'm afraid I might crush you," he admitted after a moment, tilting his head and nuzzling his face against Aoba's hair, eyes closed and lips parted, inhaling of the man's scent. He didn't think it was all that strange.

"I mean...holding on too tightly."

Declan was no Judge Frollo, but Aoba got a case of the shivers for reasons completely of his own. Fireworks went off in the nerves of his hair as Declan nuzzled into it, sharp and intense and yet not exactly pain. It jolted through his body in ways he wasn’t quite sure what to do with, Desire mentally rolling over with something like a low groan, as if considering changing his mind about not expressing certain opinions.

The feel of Declan’s breath ruffling the strands wasn’t much better, but Aoba tried not to dwell on it. What the hell, really? To go from hating it when other people touched his hair because of it frequently hurting because people were rough or inconsiderate, to being—turned on because it was Declan??

But it felt better to be close again, the combined warmth of their bodies shared under the shelter of the blankets. Words, Aoba. Focus on the words.

“…I don’t think you would,” he answered, laying an arm along Declan’s again. Even with the mutterings of his other mind, the contact was pleasant. Aoba was aware of the Guardian’s bare chest and arms against him, but he was only self-conscious because of his own split thoughts, not because of any outward feelings of pressure. Declan was decidedly unthreatening for such a large man.

“You’re too gentle for that…and I want you to hold me.”

"If I could always hold you, I would," the man murmured, shifting enough to free his other arm, moving his hand to gently brush Aoba's hair safely out of the way of getting snagged if either of them moved too much. Without anything else to do with his arm, he slid it under Aoba's pillows, effectively letting them tuck that much closer to each other.

"I want to kiss and touch so much of you, my scalp tingles and my skin prickles," Declan sighed, gazing at the other man with heavy-lidded eyes.

"I don't know if I'm as gentle as you think...It's hard to know what parts of me are good and what parts are a little ugly."

…he did? Really?? Well, okay, granted Aoba knew that already but—it was secondhand from Mac. Hearing it directly from Declan himself had a completely different effect on Aoba. It was the kind that made him want to squirm again, struck by the seeming dichotomy of Declan claiming to want that much, while at the same time being so self-controlled and deferring.

Desire, Reason, Restraint, came a mutter. Nothing unbalanced or fractured in him.

Only for a moment did Aoba wonder what restraint had to do with the two of them, but that was a plot thread for another time. He had enough on his mind with Declan so very wrapped around him, chaste and unassuming but also…wanting.

“Well I don’t…know how much of that I can judge you for, considering…you know. ‘Desire.’” Aoba hesitated briefly, not so much afraid as all those levels of embarrassed. Mac had said to be straightforward….

“…What…is that you think could be ‘ugly’?”

"I don't wish to speak of it, if I may keep my silence for now?" Declan admitted a bit sadly. "It isn't anything I would lie about, and I'm certain I'll speak of it eventually. I just...am not comfortable with that part of myself. I don't know if it's good or not." He'd speak if pushed, of course, unwilling to keep anything from Aoba when secrets had already caused too much trouble for them.

"There is desire in all of us," Declan reasoned a moment later, fingertips running lightly up and down Aoba's covered side in small loops.

"Sometimes those desires are frightening. Sometimes they challenge our perceptions of ourselves. Sometimes you can find a healthy outlet for an unhealthy desire, sometimes there's only one answer to the need. I'm not so different from you...I just have everything stored in the same place. Maybe it's a little harder that way, though? Hm..."

Aoba had to stare. All of him did, a significant part of him losing his sleepy contentedness in exchange for that stare.

Is he being a hypocrite at me right now? Desire wanted to know, with the feeling of narrowed eyes. Aoba could feel in him the urge to come forward, to demand answers if ‘straightforwardness’ was supposed to be so important.

He held him back, not in a state of warring, but as one would a friend on the urge of a bad decision. There was no pain, no headache, but it drew out a brief silence where his attentions went inwards rather than outwards. When Aoba ‘returned’, as it were, it was with a soft sigh.

“…Mac said to be honest with you, but also to be patient,” he finally said, cheeks a bit heated as he pushed through with narrating some of his thoughts. “Part of me wants to call it unfair for you to ask that, but…I understand, too. So I’ll only say this one thing:

“You’ve seen some really ugly sides of me already, and you haven’t judged me for any of them. Whenever you feel comfortable to…talk about it, I’ll make sure I give you that same courtesy, okay?”

Nodding with a small sigh of relief, the Titan tilted his head a bit, closing his eyes and resting fully. The tension seeped out again, the large man contented with the answer. It wasn't that he wanted to keep things, only that he needed time to sort them out and understand them. He could easily be honest about his desires, they knew that much, but he wanted to piece together what those feelings and ideas were before voicing anything half cocked.

"I'm just...afraid. I don't mean to seem like a coward. These feelings are strange to me, and make me uncomfortable for reasons I can't fully understand, and so can't properly explain. That, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, either, when we've only just figured this much out. I could be happy like this, forever, but I know...at least a part of you wouldn't be happy with just this. I'll try. I promise."

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