[a bittersweet pang in his heart when Nick falls into the usual habits. when he misses something so badly, he'll take anything, has to. their first night together feels far away now, but certainly closer to Nick. no doubt about that. it doesn't stop August from cracking a smile as hands find his waist, then lips to cheek and the eager tugging of pockets that follows.]
Always.
[he tries to be light, to return the flirtatious tone that is so easily handed out to him. even puts a little pep in his step to take the lead, wrapping an arm around Nick's shoulder to pull him in as they walk to place a chaste kiss to his head. things used to be like this. thoughtless acts of affection, no second thought necessary, done because they cared about each other and that's all that it was.
if he has to retrace his steps and put on a different face for a night with him, he will. he knows it would be unfair of him to pile everything on at once, and he doesn't even know if he wants to do that. he can sense that Nick doesn't want to -- or can't -- talk about what he'd like to talk about.
he gets them back to his room with only one wrong (and quickly corrected) turn, because of course he does. bed's been remade already since he's been gone. nothing is personalized, it may as well be a hotel room.]
All yours. [said while he shrugs off his jacket, hangs it up.] Maybe I'll get some real sleep tonight.
no subject
Always.
[he tries to be light, to return the flirtatious tone that is so easily handed out to him. even puts a little pep in his step to take the lead, wrapping an arm around Nick's shoulder to pull him in as they walk to place a chaste kiss to his head. things used to be like this. thoughtless acts of affection, no second thought necessary, done because they cared about each other and that's all that it was.
if he has to retrace his steps and put on a different face for a night with him, he will. he knows it would be unfair of him to pile everything on at once, and he doesn't even know if he wants to do that. he can sense that Nick doesn't want to -- or can't -- talk about what he'd like to talk about.
he gets them back to his room with only one wrong (and quickly corrected) turn, because of course he does. bed's been remade already since he's been gone. nothing is personalized, it may as well be a hotel room.]
All yours. [said while he shrugs off his jacket, hangs it up.] Maybe I'll get some real sleep tonight.