Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sajah had so much to thank Nyko for. He knew it always of course, but in the day to day ease of their friendship — and trying to keep up with the other young man such that neither of them got themselves killed — it was sometimes less present of a thought on his mind. To speak of it with Leukos, though, while sharing the simple intimacy of bed space and watching the man go through rituals that were familiar in their own way—in that they reminded him of Nyko—and be able to share at all with the man, truly impressed upon him how much he had to be grateful for.

He glanced down, swallowing the unbidden knot of—guilt?—that wedged itself in with the thought: Nyko didn’t want him here, had been sincerely worried the last time he’d returned from a visit from Leukos, and been deeply against him visiting again. Immediately on the heels of that, though, came memory of the girl he’d spoken of—and Nyko probably had plenty to do at least for this particular moment.

The self-reassurance was not as reassuring as he might have liked, but it was easier to focus his attention on Leukos than dwell on it in full. «I am sure you were, too,» he signed, «to have made it here from wherever you came…»

Sajah didn’t know the details, but he didn’t need to. Having had occasion to be near Leukos and in intimate proximity with various portions of his skin, it was impossible not to see the tracks of his past. He didn’t even have to be indecent for many of them to show, and beyond that, for all his glamour and well-trained charm, Sajah felt privately certain it was no accident someone who projected as confidently as Leu generally did still reacted with trigger-esque panic under certain situations in response to relatively innocuous approaches.

«The Masters give many different scars, but we all carry them.»

Sajah hummed.

It was true. However much he might prefer it to his previous circumstances, Matori still did not — and might never — feel like ‘home.’ But then, neither was Oba. For the moment, the masters had robbed him of that, too. But the latter, at least, was fixable. One day, somewhere would feel right. He wasn’t particularly concerned with when or where for the time being. This particular spot and moment were plenty pleasant enough to appreciate as they were.

«You won’t stay here?» he asked.

He knew he didn’t expect to himself, given Nyko’s plans. With any success they would be out in a matter of weeks at most, and he supposed there were signs that Leukos was a tourist as well, if only since he spent his nights in inn rooms, in Sajahka’s limited experience. He tipped his head, eyeing the man and thinking of the auditions Nyko intended to hold—and how very far from here he would be after.

It was almost certain he would never see this man again, after a handful of days, and this could be his last opportunity. There might not have been any reason for attachment — except that he was one of only two individuals with which Sajahka had held full conversations since losing his voice, and the first and only person thus far to know him intimately, with a bright and stupidly compelling draw to him that Sajah couldn’t fully place — and so he felt a strange pull in his gut that warned to savor the instant. For every moment was gone eventually, it was only a matter of time, and the best ones deserved to be remembered.

«I will miss ‘accidentally’ coming into your company…»

Sajah listened. Until, Besides, I have no friends here… at which point he scoffed, and shot the man a short, half-amused look. At the hip bump, he grunted and shook his head. «What…we are not even friends yet, Butterfly?» Admittedly, there were some things that had transpired between them that he wouldn’t do to a ‘friend’ — but on the whole he considered it a fairly flexible word and didn’t know what else to call him. A passionate and chaotic acquaintance. He snorted softly. «I could promise to pay you back one day…»

Even if they never crossed paths again after parting, if he owed him a debt and a promise, something would be stuck connecting them. Perhaps it was a strange train of thought, and after a moment, he rolled his shoulders, shrugging it off to focus on the latter portion with a slight glint to his eye.

«That is because there is no one like me.» Tipping in, he touched his lips to Leukos’ cheek because he could, lingering but a half second before he shifted back out again to slip back, and move off the bed. «Just me. But I,» he gestured with emphasis, «am hungry. If you have no one more interesting to spend this morning with, I would bring you back breakfast.»

Without waiting for answer, because he didn’t have to see to hear Leu’s response, he began a search for his prior evening’s clothes, plucking up the various pieces before setting about pulling them on.

“Mm.” A ‘constant state of fluidity’ was not exactly the most reassuring state to be stuck with in regards to funds—but he didn’t suspect Leukos was wrong. He and Nyko had gone from less than nothing to free and surviving, which was an upgrade. Still, it would be a long time, if ever, before they were ‘wealthy’ by any stretch of the word. Stable, though — he did entertain some hope that perhaps, eventually their efforts would bring them something approaching stability.

That, however, was many years down the road, and not a current concern. The ‘near horizon’ was sure to be exactly as Leu predicted.

He glanced to the dangling sheath, and grunted, eyes lifting with the final comment as he took it and strapped it into place. After he’d finished dressing, he propped one knee on the bed to brace, leaned and reached, catching beneath Leu’s chin and holding for a kiss. He could almost taste the salt.

«This one is on me,» he promised when he moved back. «I will try not to keep His Highness waiting long.»

He could afford to be pleased that Leukos seemed to welcome the idea of him back at all, which brought with it other potential pleasant options for the day, and as he made it out of the room, he was, a curious lightness to his step. He had no coin in his pocket, but that oughtn’t be a problem. He was sure he could find at least a vendor or two who looked to have plenty of business such that they wouldn’t mind sparing one of their stock. For the good of the hungry.

Leukos wouldn’t even need to know unless he asked.

Sajah felt it worked out for everyone.

Huntsman.

Sajah huffed as he made his way back from his prize run, still wondering passively what all keeping oneself occupied entailed for a man of Leukos’…‘class.’ Likely more primping. Balms. Oils. Powder. Though he didn’t touch it, he wasn’t unfamiliar with their likes. Though that didn’t stop him from dedicating some of his thought time to more self-indulgent imaginings about what the man might do to occupy himself in his room alone.

It was easy to let the thought linger and elaborate on itself as he made his way back down the alley toward Leukos’ new abode, his teeth taking purchase on a newly acquired piece of fruit as he went. When the only price cap was ‘whatever you’re willing to risk losing your hands over’ Sajah usually took the time to pick favorites and not cut himself short. This morning was no exception, and fortunately, market was especially bustling, with more than one baker offering a fresh selection all but impossible to resist sampling.

A braided flake danish of some variety, small fruit and cream pastry circles, a breaded tart, and two puffed buns which he was fairly certain were filled with something were present among the collection, cloth wrapped and folded up. Bought and paid for with risk to life and limb. He didn’t bother knocking, and Leukos looked—more or less exactly as he might have anticipated, stretched out on the downsized bed in the modest inner-town inn like royalty waiting to be waited upon.

Sajahka flipped the bolt behind him. They probably didn’t need any surprise visitors, not that he imagined anyone but ‘room service’ if such a place even had it. But it never hurt to dissuade the unexpected just the same. He approached, and upon reaching the bed, climbed back onto it. His eyes, though, paused at Leukos’ throat as he set his package down.

«You hid them,» he accused with amused interest. He ought to have guessed. The man had done a fairly good job masking them all, too. «I placed those artistically, you know.»

“Mhm…” Sajah’s gaze moved with Leukos’ fingers, and there was a temptation to be rid of the offensive concealer now—but that could probably wait a moment at least.

Leukos’ wardrobe choice, particularly his ‘shirt’, left little to the imagination, and Sajah could only guess its purpose was more to tease and distract than conceal anything. Not that he was complaining. The view was easy to appreciate as he shucked his boots and pulled his feet onto the bed, and since that is what the man had chosen to wear, he considered his prospects of at least one more engagement before he went on his way to be reasonably high.

For now, however, Sajah settled for leaning, unknotting the cloth wrapping his spoils, and—well, it was probably best for Leukos to take his pick first, since Sajah wasn’t picky himself on flavors, and had already eaten a fruit on the way up to curb the initial edge off his hunger. «Your body is an inspiring canvas. It would be insulting not to be enthusiastic, I think…I feel I have area yet to cover.»

Had he known the direction of Leukos’ thoughts or reason for his look of pleasant surprise, Sajah might have pointed out that food and clothing were very different things. He liked food. Clothing tended to either be functional or in the way with few states in between. But, Sajah was not privy to mind reading, and instead satisfied himself that Leukos looked satisfied, which was enough for him.

He had gone out because he was hungry. For food.

The glint of morning on the sheer fabric at Leukos’ shoulder, however, drew his eyes and it occurred to him that he could just let Leukos eat. There were evidently other invitations afoot. He could always find sustenance later and this opportunity wouldn’t always be present—it would be just a shift of movement and he could be undistracting as he-

An unasked for rumble of his stomach, however, derailed the immediacy in that thought, and with a resigned grunt as his earfins warmed, Sajah reached for a piece his own, focus still intent on the activity of Leu’s mouth more than anything as he pulled a small hunk from what he’d taken and popped it into his.

“Mm.” Sometimes, he really did wish he could taste. «I am glad. I will take your word for it.»

Sajah had vague memories of flavor before he’d lost it. But, like memories of his own voice, they were distant and colored by the perspective of childhood. Unlike his voice, he did have some sense of it, at the far back, but it was muted and accented only by his sense of smell.

At least the food smelled good.

When Leu’s fingers caught his face, he blinked, but leaned cooperatively, his lashes lowering, and then shutting on a grunt as Leukos sucked—and he felt a resurgent prickle of heat coil back through him. He breathed out, fingers reaching of their own accord to touch down on Leu’s hip and skim beneath the bottom line of sheer fabric. He slipped his lips up, to Leu’s cheek, and then the base of his earfin.

«You can keep eating…» His stomach was temporarily satisfied enough that it seemed more rewarding to shift himself around instead, touching his lips to the upper line of Leukos’ jaw and winding his arms loosely around so that his fingertips could trace the man’s belly.