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“Oh, you're super, now?” Had he mentioned his upgrade? Matt had trouble keeping track of things that happened powered now, and that was almost intentional. If he just separated himself with the thought of thinking about it at all, it was a lot easier to just separate himself from all of it. It let him focus on things like helping his father, and making sure that his life was essentially closed before he left.

It was a strange mode to be stuck in, and it was a comfortable mode in some ways. It reminded him of a lot of things, it reminded him of the way that he tended to just let things keep happening when he was active in the Negaverse, when he had gotten comfortable letting himself remain at super and then eternal, it all fit a way of remaining in the same cycles over and over. It was strange in the way that he was signaling that he didn't think that there would be much more to happen in his life, and he knew that people might think that that was dangerous. It might show a temptation to unalive–

But he would ignore that part, for now.

Sy knew better, and that was what mattered. “The glamour is a funny thing, though.”

It was easy to let himself settle into Syrus washing his hair. He let Syrus manipulate him as he may, staying put and letting it happen. Something was nice about this, and nicer than going to the salon even. It was probably partially because it was his fiancé.

“You've definitely shifted from your wish for boundaries and definitions, haven't you.” And that was said as a warm purr as Syrus kissed his chin and his head. “Can't imagine the one I first wrapped myself with in a rush saying these, but that's not a bad thing. You're right. Just because it's terrifying doesn't mean it's bad. If you want this all to work, if you want it to work with her too, we're going to have to think about how to make that happen.”

But perhaps Syrus would resolve that himself.

His stomach was in knots as he thought about what he had to do. Should he purify? Should he just cut it off? Should he tell Nectaris that there was no way to make this work, that knitting themselves together in any sense was silly? Did he listen to Syrus? Did he understand what it would mean for Syrus to want to get closer to Nectaris? Did he want to date Nikki, too, in whatever way that meant to him? Perhaps he was one of those split model attraction types. Nikki was, too. Maybe they fit in that way. Maybe they fit in that Nikki was the moon as much as the moon was a bright thing to yearn for during the cold night.

… ******** sighed, leaning into Syrus, letting him speak his piece and letting the water wash over them. His brain was in knots.

But something he said caught him.

“Perhaps there is a way we can have that place we're living together, ya know? Maybe our dreams aren't so far.” Maybe there was a way over that divide. Matt had thought that once he left, he would be leaving everything but what he had on the other side. It left him dismayed and trapped in ways he didn't know how to bridge. “If you want us to have that kind of closeness with Nectaris where we can speak where there's no topics we have to avoid – right now we're divided, ya know? And Nikki is never coming back to Chaos. She shouldn't. It would wreck her.”

She wouldn't be the person he fell in love with anymore, and he knew it. She wouldn't be the person that Syrus was so concerned with, either.

Nikki would be a shell of a moon, and the moon was not a shell.

“You're right. We should be able to talk to her about everything. We.” If Sy had been seeing Nikki and seemed so concerned about making sure he saw her, too, maybe he would power up again. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she wouldn't pressure him too hard. Maybe he could explain why he wanted to stay as much as he wanted to go. Maybe he could explain why he wanted to throw himself into the void as much as he wanted to pretend the void was something to be avoided.

What did he have?

“Haven't even told the relatives yet, ya know. Still working on just fading myself out. Making sure Dad is set. You know?” Matt turned to face Syrus once again, now that his hair was tucked away in an indigo–coloured towel to dry. “You're right, it's a lot to put on someone. A lot to arrange. It's been a lot for me to put on myself. I don't know where to approach or where to start or where to finish on anything.” Matt shifted, anxious. “Or if I even should. I'm glad I have you no matter what.”

He wanted to just lose himself in Syrus' eyes and Syrus' arms and Syrus' –

“Maybe we should get into bungee jumping.”

It was a joke. Partially.

“It's been a while. Do you really want us to locate her?”

“Fair.”

Adaptable was a bit different than the absolute openness to everything that Nectaris had, and perhaps it came with its own sense. There was Syrus, who was willing to let these things happen so long as they made sense and so long as they didn’t break his boundaries, as long as he could keep the things he was concerned with. There was Nectaris, open to most things so long as they didn’t hurt anyone–

And then there was him. Where did he really fall?

It was an odd place to have to negotiate. Arguably, he had always been a bit more flexible than Syrus ever was, but now it felt like Syrus was more flexible than he was. Matt couldn’t conceptualize giving everything up. He didn’t want to. Everything he heard that he may not have to give up after all helped that bit by bit, but there were still pieces inside him that yelled and screamed that doing anything of the such was foolish. Perhaps if Syrus was so concerned with Nikki, he could just go chase the moon in the sky himself. Perhaps that thought itself was toxic and he didn’t know if he appreciated it or if he wanted to recoil against it. He did know he wanted to stay close to Syrus. The little things of him helping him dry off–

“Heh, wishing you could see us kiss? Cute,” his eyes fluttered closed as Syrus smiled. “Ya know, there’s a term for that, wanting to see your partners happy even with other people. Perhaps especially with other people?” Matt was familiar enough with polyamoury himself to be familiar with the terms around it. Compersion was one that was usually used for what he was describing at that moment. But partners? Perhaps presuming Syrus and Nikki were anything near that was presuming too much. Perhaps presuming he and Nikki were anything near that was presuming too much. Perhaps it was why it was so easy to simply … vanish.

Syrus was making that hard, though.

Determinedly so. The last time Matt had been witness to Syrus’ determination to make something work was when he decided the two of them needed to be.

“You sure Waru would want to go bungee with me? Pretty sure he’s still finds me sus.” He snorted, happy to lean into the joke he started instead of thinking of the consequences of everything whipping around them. “Maybe he’ll swap us around so I’m the one guaranteed to be on the bottom and then snap the wire we’re using.”

Thinking about Waru was not comforting so much as Waru’s malice toward him was expected. He was fairly sure he might have qualified as one of the few people Albite legitimately disliked. Maybe that had changed with the dead scapegoat, but considering Albite had called him out long before everything else, he wouldn’t be surprised if Albite somehow knew that Fulgurite had been the one to leak the bank. Why would it be anyone else, anyway? He talked too much to Nectaris, who generally was known for chatter.

Maybe that was why it was logical not to chat with her–

“Not your shame, though. No reason to be nervous.” Syrus was already doing a lot, a lot that pushed his guidelines, at that. A lot of his precious… ******** don’t know what I’d say to her after…,” he motioned through the air, losing the words he was usually so good at weaving. Maybe there weren’t enough ‘aye’s or pirate shanties in it.

“This is important to you, though. Perhaps I need to just figure it out.”

Matt's quiet snort was about as ugly as Syrus’s laugh, albeit for a different reason. He could protest that Syrus was kissing that same mentor-turned-traitor now, but she was never his mentor, was he? Nectaris had run before Matt had even met the one holding him now. Syrus was kissing a traitor, but did it even hold the same punch to point it out?

He knew what he was doing.

And she loves you.

Matt did feel deflated. What was he doing? Even Syrus's fingers through his hair were not quite resolving the way his gut tried to twist and turn. That nausea of the original days threatened to return and he swallowed it down. He swallowed it down just like everything else, in both the figurative and in the literal sense with the way he gulped. “No, you're not pushing things too far. We're dealing with things that should be beyond our pay grade, ya know? Never thought I'd end up in a fanfiction myself.”

Matt couldn't quite stop the quiet laughter. Syrus hadn't gone too far. Perhaps life had. The only way to be with Nikki long-term was to lose half of himself in a magical war that seemed unending. The only way to stay with his future husband long-term was to ghost and fade into the sunset, or perhaps hope he follow and lose his mind too. What was the win there? Was there one?

“She's gonna be mad at me, isn't she? Probably thought I was dead.” His eyes trailed to the shower door. “Not like she had any way to trace me down.” And he had wanted it that way. It was easier to cut ties if he didn't have any way for those ties to hunt him down. It was easier to be alone if he could ignore the existence of other people.

His babe was a persistent burr, though. His babe had found Nectaris himself. His babe started kissing her–or kissed, single time, though perhaps multiple–himself. His babe was trying to fix this for him and her himself.

Maybe this was all too much for him, too.

There were signs of that in the way he offered an apology in the presence of his bed. His lonely bed. A smirk curved the edges of his lips, nevertheless. Maybe the implication had landed. Maybe some part of what was said was enticing. Maybe he felt lonely, too. “Don't got anything else to do tonight, babe.” He winked. “I'm all yours if you want me.”

If. If Syrus wanted him.

He clearly did. Matt's mind was in tangles.

“You do have a nice bed. I'd love to spend the night.” Spend the night assuredly on other things, from the sound of it. Matt's eyes traced over the still wet edges and curves of Syrus's body. “We can think about where to go from here in the morning, right? Know where she expects me, but probably easier to pick where she expects you.”

In the morning.

Not now. He didn't even know if he should be doing this at all–

If Syrus wanted to make it up to him, it was time to let Syrus have the solo limelight he had figured his babe needed when he had left such an urgent text.

“We'll deal with that later, babe.” Was that a message to Syrus or himself? “I want to spend the night, too. Always feel better when I do.”

His fingers ghosted over Syrus's chin and shoulders.

“Maybe soon this can be our nightly reality.”

“You've already got a plan forming, don't you?” but would he be Syrus if he didn't? He had a plan for everything, really, and what made both him and Nikki distortions were the fact that he hadn't really had plans for them. In the long-term, he imagined with Matt that had changed; they had their rhythm down and they had settled into it even as Matt kept finding ways to ******** that up.

Nikki didn't have that backdrop with Syrus quite yet.

… At least, so far as he could tell. He had cut himself off from the powered life and had in effect cut himself off from part of Cryolite’s life, too. Cryolite, who was still a member of the Negaverse. Cryolite, who may remain as such for a much longer term as much as he told fantasies about them all being together.

Truth be told, that would be much, much easier. By the same token, Cryolite, Syrus, was perhaps one of the biggest creatures of habit he had known.

Was Syrus ready to make that bungee jump, really?

Tomorrow, tomorrow.

They were good at delaying everything over tomorrow, weren’t they?

“Fine. After breakfast.” He'd warn Dad not to expect him in the morning. Hopefully, Dad didn't have too many questions. He was twenty-five and unlike Orah, he had never once disappeared. But wouldn’t he disappear soon, eventually, if he was going to fall back into this path? It would be fine. “Don't think you'd let me protest it further anyway.” He wanted to. He did. Perhaps, though, Syrus had unlocked a key to getting Matt to shut up with his protests; providing him a distraction to talk of something entirely different was a way to get him to agree in a rush to the next topic.

For one, following Syrus to where he wanted him to go.

“You're blushing already,” his words were a gentle tease more than anything else, his eyes closing to let himself enjoy the feeling of Syrus’ lips on his knuckles. “Well. We better get to the bed so your shivers aren’t from the cold, yeah?”

They were simply standing in the bathroom in towels. He knew what the goosebumps were actually from, but it was certainly fun to pretend they were from something a bit more mundane and a bit less related to resolving the lonely bed Syrus spoke of.

He let his fingers trail to Syrus’ hand.

“Let’s go do something else.”