[ The words "came out" immediately fill him with dread, and later he'll feel grateful that they were used so early. The longer Jonas speaks the easier it is to slow his own breathing, and to find solace in a gentle handheld that feels like his lifeline. Only Jonas wades in with him to give it to him, and stays in the moment at his side.
The touch encourages him to step closer to him as his brow furrows with the story's first unexpected outcome, having heard so much about Suze by now that he feels the same. Her acceptance, that of a motherly figure Noctis can scarcely remember but can kindly imagine, seems like a non-negotiable. And by the time Jonas explains his father's intent Noctis has finally sat next to him, firming up his hold on his hand as if by offering comfort to a younger Jonas, sitting nervously in a car with his family, he might find some of his own.
He wants to. ]
... "Benjamin", right? I wish I could meet him too.
[ He's always been a more distant figure in Jonas's stories. Not a negative one but a quieter one, and it means Noctis latches onto the memory more immediately. It's something new about someone he cares for, and such a vulnerable recollection lets him see just who it was that formed the foundation for the young man sitting with him. Someone kind, thoughtful, and earnest. ]
Thank you. [ The words are quieter but heartfelt, and as much as eye contact feels like a terrifying prospect when he's being more honest than he thinks he ever has, he pushes for it to make sure he really hears him. ]
... I never talked to my old man about this. Or... uh.
Sorry... not him, but not anyone else either. If I told him what I was thinking back then he wouldn't have reacted like either of your parents. He wasn't cruel either, not even close, that's so– Shit. H-he just couldn't. 'Cause he wanted to protect me too.
I have responsibilities. It's weird, I guess. Knowing those, sometimes, feels safe too. There's no wondering about what's okay. Me feeling the way I do, with... [ Fuck. Why is it still hard to say it? Embarrassment is climbing high in his chest and making it hard for him to focus, squeezing Jonas's hand again when he looks away. ]
Guys. That's never gonna' be okay there. I thought if I could change myself then I wouldn't even have to talk about it. But when I tried, it didn't work as easily as everything else I was fixing. Here... it's just gotten worse. [ With Jonas. With Cain. Now it's like an alarm blaring in his head. ]
... but maybe here it is okay. And I don't need to hear that from someone else if I can hear it from you, at least.
( It's a story shared by so many, yet padded with what Jonas considers a more torturous reason why. There isn't punishment for what his society and father, the late King, might see as unacceptable, there's denial for a "higher purpose." To contain and compact feelings until their skin is diamond hard and "more capable" of leading.
Jonas can't naysay it because he can't understand. He wants to fight it, but he knows it's not his battle. The warm, bruised hand in his has to be enough right now; he can pour all of his acceptance into it and hope the Noctis feels an iota lighter than before.
So, when Noctis squeezes anxious fingers around his, he covers them with another hand. Enclosing it, ironing into it his parents' love as well as his own. )
That... That means a lot to me. I, uh... I'll tell you again and again, just whenever you need me to. When you don't, too.
This is hard, what you're doing right now. Infamously. Like, some people never say it. And I'm proud, you know... to be one of your people. The guy in the know. I'm proud of you for telling me, too. You're...
( Amazing.
Not solely for having the courage to sit here and do this, but for being forced, in a way, to acknowledge and accept it in himself. He knows they have a community here; once Cain measures up to the man he wants to become, he might share, too. There shouldn't be aloneness accompanying love. Jonas hates that that could ever be true. After watching his parents interact, he knows what love should look like.
And, he thinks, it might look like this. Them, sitting here together, comforting one another. Yes, it's the thrills of risking it when you're unsure of the other person's feelings, and yes, there's the tight, queasiness in the stomach experiencing powerful attraction, but it's also how their hands feel together right now.
Firm, encompassing, warm. It's safety. Trust. Knowing that someone cares about you enough to be here.
One hand comes away then, once he's certain it's heated enough to withstand the chill of the cold desert night. It's better placed on the center of Noctis' back, rubbing one circle until it simply braces him in his hunch forward. )
I'm sorry you never got to say it at home. Like, that you had to hide it. It must've--It must be painful, still.
[ None of his familiar defense mechanisms can shield him from the rawness of the moment because dismissal of himself would be dismissal of Jonas right now, and that's unacceptable. So he sits and allows such meaningful, unfamiliar praise to wash over not just himself but a confused young boy who'd sat alone in the Citadel and wondered for hours on end what was wrong with him and how he would systematically hide that from the rest of the world for as long as he could.
When he nods it's curt, jaw locked and chin stiff until Jonas's hand comes to rest against his back and melts away tension that had kept him together as much as it had locked him up. He exhales all at once, breath shuddering out of his lungs as he turns to direct a blurry gaze at the floor of that tent. ]
It's okay. [ The words aren't convincing but he needs to say them, maybe just for himself. ]
... sorry. You'll tell me to shut up and that it's fine... but I didn't come here for this either. To lay everything on you.
Maybe you were right. [ He glances back, hand turning in Jonas's to grasp at his palm. ]
And we can just sit together for a while. We don't have to talk about anything.
[ With so much in the air between them now known and quietly waiting for acknowledgement, the tension feels lessened instead of heightened. Their earlier conversation isn't going anywhere, just like this one isn't. And the weight on his shoulders finally feels a little lighter. ]
( His hand is muggy now, but it's not like that matters. Noctis' feels perfect there, palm to palm, and Jonas only improves it by lacing their fingers together. Now it's a tight, unbreakable clutch, and the private squeezes he gives can be numerous. )
You know me so well, ( comes the first lighter joke from Jonas, and the beginning of many.
Humour isn't everyone's method for calming down after a tense discussion, but Noctis has shown him a couple of times now that he's receptive to it. His eyes meet and hold the pair already on him, expression both faintly concerned and—for lack of a better description—adoring. This is his friend. His best friend. He can't think of anything else he'd rather be doing than sitting here in comfort with him, ensuring he feels stable. And that, eventually, he feels strong.
Responding with silence is Jonas' first answer to such a restful idea. The second is to lower his head to Noctis' shoulder, cushioning his cheek there to embrace him, even this small amount. Legs outstretched into the blankets below, he rests there, letting his mind wander where it may.
It settles only briefly on Noctis' body, drifting down his legs. There's nothing objectifying about it, content to simply memorize him at all distances while feeling the faint, quick heartbeat in his fingertips. )
[ The humor does help, sparking a little half-smile as he blinks away tears that might betray his emotions. Right now he doesn't want to think about what he doesn't have, or didn't have, or opportunities that are now lost to him. Right now he wants to sit in this moment and focus on what he does.
Jonas.
Somehow or another, despite a bad attitude and an almost lackadaisical defense mechanism, he has Jonas. More than once in their short relationship he thought he'd finally pushed him to some brink that might cause him to reconsider the worth of this odd bond between them, forged between two people that couldn't be further apart. Hell, a real part of him, an insidious part that still exists, thought he had done it tonight.
His hair tickles the side of his face and he wonders if he's dreaming. Then, he wonders if this is what love feels like. One thought flows to the next so naturally it doesn't even startle him, face flushed an unpracticed red when he gently draws his hand away from Jonas's. It turns, not seeking its partner again, but resting next to it so Noctis can seek out each tiny difference and each similarity. Every detail of this moment is something he wants to memorize, wordless and content.
It takes minutes for him to break that silence, and when he does his voice is sturdier and more sure. ]
( There's an unsteadiness in Jonas' breathing that can be attributed easily to sitting beside a love interest, wavering out of his nose the entire time they're quiet. He tried to relax fully, but after he quickly realized that wasn't written in their stars, he decided to embrace it. Let himself be nervous and vulnerable, because Noctis is doing the same.
Their hands rest so close, once pulled apart, yet he knows better than to repossess it fully. To move it away where neither of them can see it. Instead, as Noctis breaks their self-imposed silence, he uses the short distraction to hook his pinky finger over the one next to his. )
Yeah, okay... I mean, they're pretty stupid, though. ( Charmed into another smile, Jonas finally lifts his head away with a wet little sniff.
They speak the same language. It's such a relief that he wants to touch him again, gather him up in his arms and take him down onto the pile of blankets. Tuck him up and hold him. Make him grin, laugh, and playfully threaten him. Kiss his shoulder, neck, and ear. Noctis isn't the only one blushing, Jonas ducking his head a bit more shyly as he seeks his datapad. )
Um, so this is the weird snail-looking one. ( Reintroducing his friend to his pictures, taken rather well and at a low enough angle that suggests he was on his belly for the photoshoot, Jonas breathes in deeply and exhales as soundlessly as he can. ) The—That's the first one I sent. It's got, like, googly eyes. I... I don't know what for.
And... this one. I like this one, it's my favourite, I think. Like, with the bit of pink flair it's got going on. Must be its wings or something, but it was kind of dark.
[ He'll think about that pinky for too long later. It's silly and it's sweet, and when Jonas pulls away and he considers reestablishing contact he doesn't, content in the meantime with the memory. For him, this is all new. Not just the earth-shattering truths he's speaking out loud to the universe for the first time, but the innocuous affection that Jonas has already admitted was common and encouraged in his upbringing. Engaging with it in the amount that feels comfortable, the amount that he can without pushing himself too hard, feels allowed and that alone is novel.
It's hard to keep an eye on those bugs as Jonas flips through each of their pictures when he'd much rather observe how they make his friend feel in each one of his facial expressions. They're stupid, they're gross... and right now they're his favorite animals, because they make Jonas smile in a way that's stupid and gross. Just like his own expression when it twists to match.
Eventually the coffee runs out, somewhere between their decision to stretch out in the comforter pile below and Noctis's attempts to hum the melody to his latest favorite Earth song whose name he's forgotten for Jonas to recognize. He promises to text him about it later and for a moment, it feels like everything has returned to the strange sort of normal they've developed over the past two months. Normal... but better. More intimate and more at ease, an electric feeling in the air that makes his smiles come easier but doesn't intimidate them as the night goes on.
He cares for Jonas. Jonas cares for him. And by the time he finally gets up to leave, there's no lingering anxiety or doubt in his decisions. He trusted the right person, and he finally said the right thing. ]
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no subject
The touch encourages him to step closer to him as his brow furrows with the story's first unexpected outcome, having heard so much about Suze by now that he feels the same. Her acceptance, that of a motherly figure Noctis can scarcely remember but can kindly imagine, seems like a non-negotiable. And by the time Jonas explains his father's intent Noctis has finally sat next to him, firming up his hold on his hand as if by offering comfort to a younger Jonas, sitting nervously in a car with his family, he might find some of his own.
He wants to. ]
... "Benjamin", right? I wish I could meet him too.
[ He's always been a more distant figure in Jonas's stories. Not a negative one but a quieter one, and it means Noctis latches onto the memory more immediately. It's something new about someone he cares for, and such a vulnerable recollection lets him see just who it was that formed the foundation for the young man sitting with him. Someone kind, thoughtful, and earnest. ]
Thank you. [ The words are quieter but heartfelt, and as much as eye contact feels like a terrifying prospect when he's being more honest than he thinks he ever has, he pushes for it to make sure he really hears him. ]
... I never talked to my old man about this. Or... uh.
Sorry... not him, but not anyone else either. If I told him what I was thinking back then he wouldn't have reacted like either of your parents. He wasn't cruel either, not even close, that's so– Shit. H-he just couldn't. 'Cause he wanted to protect me too.
I have responsibilities. It's weird, I guess. Knowing those, sometimes, feels safe too. There's no wondering about what's okay. Me feeling the way I do, with... [ Fuck. Why is it still hard to say it? Embarrassment is climbing high in his chest and making it hard for him to focus, squeezing Jonas's hand again when he looks away. ]
Guys. That's never gonna' be okay there. I thought if I could change myself then I wouldn't even have to talk about it. But when I tried, it didn't work as easily as everything else I was fixing. Here... it's just gotten worse. [ With Jonas. With Cain. Now it's like an alarm blaring in his head. ]
... but maybe here it is okay. And I don't need to hear that from someone else if I can hear it from you, at least.
no subject
Jonas can't naysay it because he can't understand. He wants to fight it, but he knows it's not his battle. The warm, bruised hand in his has to be enough right now; he can pour all of his acceptance into it and hope the Noctis feels an iota lighter than before.
So, when Noctis squeezes anxious fingers around his, he covers them with another hand. Enclosing it, ironing into it his parents' love as well as his own. )
That... That means a lot to me. I, uh... I'll tell you again and again, just whenever you need me to. When you don't, too.
This is hard, what you're doing right now. Infamously. Like, some people never say it. And I'm proud, you know... to be one of your people. The guy in the know. I'm proud of you for telling me, too. You're...
( Amazing.
Not solely for having the courage to sit here and do this, but for being forced, in a way, to acknowledge and accept it in himself. He knows they have a community here; once Cain measures up to the man he wants to become, he might share, too. There shouldn't be aloneness accompanying love. Jonas hates that that could ever be true. After watching his parents interact, he knows what love should look like.
And, he thinks, it might look like this. Them, sitting here together, comforting one another. Yes, it's the thrills of risking it when you're unsure of the other person's feelings, and yes, there's the tight, queasiness in the stomach experiencing powerful attraction, but it's also how their hands feel together right now.
Firm, encompassing, warm. It's safety. Trust. Knowing that someone cares about you enough to be here.
One hand comes away then, once he's certain it's heated enough to withstand the chill of the cold desert night. It's better placed on the center of Noctis' back, rubbing one circle until it simply braces him in his hunch forward. )
I'm sorry you never got to say it at home. Like, that you had to hide it. It must've--It must be painful, still.
Are you okay? Do you need anything right now?
no subject
When he nods it's curt, jaw locked and chin stiff until Jonas's hand comes to rest against his back and melts away tension that had kept him together as much as it had locked him up. He exhales all at once, breath shuddering out of his lungs as he turns to direct a blurry gaze at the floor of that tent. ]
It's okay. [ The words aren't convincing but he needs to say them, maybe just for himself. ]
... sorry. You'll tell me to shut up and that it's fine... but I didn't come here for this either. To lay everything on you.
Maybe you were right. [ He glances back, hand turning in Jonas's to grasp at his palm. ]
And we can just sit together for a while. We don't have to talk about anything.
[ With so much in the air between them now known and quietly waiting for acknowledgement, the tension feels lessened instead of heightened. Their earlier conversation isn't going anywhere, just like this one isn't. And the weight on his shoulders finally feels a little lighter. ]
no subject
You know me so well, ( comes the first lighter joke from Jonas, and the beginning of many.
Humour isn't everyone's method for calming down after a tense discussion, but Noctis has shown him a couple of times now that he's receptive to it. His eyes meet and hold the pair already on him, expression both faintly concerned and—for lack of a better description—adoring. This is his friend. His best friend. He can't think of anything else he'd rather be doing than sitting here in comfort with him, ensuring he feels stable. And that, eventually, he feels strong.
Responding with silence is Jonas' first answer to such a restful idea. The second is to lower his head to Noctis' shoulder, cushioning his cheek there to embrace him, even this small amount. Legs outstretched into the blankets below, he rests there, letting his mind wander where it may.
It settles only briefly on Noctis' body, drifting down his legs. There's nothing objectifying about it, content to simply memorize him at all distances while feeling the faint, quick heartbeat in his fingertips. )
no subject
Jonas.
Somehow or another, despite a bad attitude and an almost lackadaisical defense mechanism, he has Jonas. More than once in their short relationship he thought he'd finally pushed him to some brink that might cause him to reconsider the worth of this odd bond between them, forged between two people that couldn't be further apart. Hell, a real part of him, an insidious part that still exists, thought he had done it tonight.
His hair tickles the side of his face and he wonders if he's dreaming. Then, he wonders if this is what love feels like. One thought flows to the next so naturally it doesn't even startle him, face flushed an unpracticed red when he gently draws his hand away from Jonas's. It turns, not seeking its partner again, but resting next to it so Noctis can seek out each tiny difference and each similarity. Every detail of this moment is something he wants to memorize, wordless and content.
It takes minutes for him to break that silence, and when he does his voice is sturdier and more sure. ]
... hey.
You wanna' show me your stupid bugs?
no subject
Their hands rest so close, once pulled apart, yet he knows better than to repossess it fully. To move it away where neither of them can see it. Instead, as Noctis breaks their self-imposed silence, he uses the short distraction to hook his pinky finger over the one next to his. )
Yeah, okay... I mean, they're pretty stupid, though. ( Charmed into another smile, Jonas finally lifts his head away with a wet little sniff.
They speak the same language. It's such a relief that he wants to touch him again, gather him up in his arms and take him down onto the pile of blankets. Tuck him up and hold him. Make him grin, laugh, and playfully threaten him. Kiss his shoulder, neck, and ear. Noctis isn't the only one blushing, Jonas ducking his head a bit more shyly as he seeks his datapad. )
Um, so this is the weird snail-looking one. ( Reintroducing his friend to his pictures, taken rather well and at a low enough angle that suggests he was on his belly for the photoshoot, Jonas breathes in deeply and exhales as soundlessly as he can. ) The—That's the first one I sent. It's got, like, googly eyes. I... I don't know what for.
And... this one. I like this one, it's my favourite, I think. Like, with the bit of pink flair it's got going on. Must be its wings or something, but it was kind of dark.
This one, too—
no subject
It's hard to keep an eye on those bugs as Jonas flips through each of their pictures when he'd much rather observe how they make his friend feel in each one of his facial expressions. They're stupid, they're gross... and right now they're his favorite animals, because they make Jonas smile in a way that's stupid and gross. Just like his own expression when it twists to match.
Eventually the coffee runs out, somewhere between their decision to stretch out in the comforter pile below and Noctis's attempts to hum the melody to his latest favorite Earth song whose name he's forgotten for Jonas to recognize. He promises to text him about it later and for a moment, it feels like everything has returned to the strange sort of normal they've developed over the past two months. Normal... but better. More intimate and more at ease, an electric feeling in the air that makes his smiles come easier but doesn't intimidate them as the night goes on.
He cares for Jonas. Jonas cares for him. And by the time he finally gets up to leave, there's no lingering anxiety or doubt in his decisions. He trusted the right person, and he finally said the right thing. ]