( soon actually isn't all that accurate. he takes a little longer than necessary, tries to walk off the miserable downturns in his mouth, but it's about as effective as expected.
by the time he's knocking on nate's door, he's no better for it, but he still cracks a smile when he sees nate. it's impossible not to, even if he is feeling unpleasantly wounded and exposed. and he keeps the smile firmly in place, because that's what nick does. )
I love Christmas movies, you know. I don't even care that it's going to be packed full of porn, I'll still love it.
[ There's a smile at his door, and Nate cannot help but kiss it.
Then he's taking Nick's hands to usher him inside, and bring him through to the living room where a big bowl of creamy egg nog is waiting, and the sofa is piled high with pillows so comfy, it's very clear they were put here by someone far more interested in interior design than Nate. ]
Remember you said that when you see Santa's grotto of elf subs. Fucking disturbing.
You don't think it's hot? I wanna be on Santa's naughty list
( which is probably an answer to the question in and of itself, in the way he winds his hands around nate's and raising his eyebrows like it's some kind of game. like it wasn't one of the shittiest nights in a little while that had him here in the first place.
he's trying to be better, more upfront with his feelings, but the lazy grin and wink comes so much easier to him. it's hard to choose a different route, even when the sting of it is your main boon still feels fresh and raw. )
( it shouldn't really be comforting, but after what feels like months of nothing but fraught conversations about the short, burly elephant in the room, a light joke practically feels like a revelation.
he flips down right into the cushions, wriggling until he finds a position that's comfortable and mostly horizontal. there's plenty of space by his head by design, a space for nate that he's immediately going to co-opt. Nick has an awful lot of faith in his ability to drink from a glass while mostly lying down, it seems. )
You know, everyone always says you shouldn't like...give a fuck what anyone else thinks, but I do. A lot. It's exhausting.
( so maybe he's going to touch on the day's events, just a little. )
[ Nate puts a glass into one of Nick's hands, and then sits down not by his head, but underneath it, gently lifting Nick up so he can settle him against his thigh. His hand strays to Nick's face, fingertips lightly stroking his cheek. ]
The people who say they don't care are the ones who care the most, trust me.
[ He speaks with some experience. ]
It's okay to care. Not that I think that guy's worth a second of your time, but. You like him, yeah?
I thought we were on--good terms, at least. Better than throwing that kind of shit in my face.
( nick settles in with his head on nate's lap, twisting with the drink held carefully until he can press his face against nate's stomach and let out the exhale that he feels like he's been holding onto for hours. he's still trying to figure out how to let the "i'm fine" smile slip away completely, be a bit more honest with himself, but he's closer. )
It's just--I want to see the good in people, you know? But he's someone I've known for months, and he wants to say shit like that to, what, make a point? He knew that picture was me, but he put it up anyway. What do I do with that?
[ Nate's hand easily slides into Nick's hair, picking through his curls. ]
I've seen him a lot on the Network. Never talked to him. [ Just to be clear on that point. He doesn't personally know the man. ] He reminds me of-- the worst kind of elitist snobs. Not the kind who actually have money and dignity, but the kind who want to leach off the ones that do. Desperate for attention and desperate to heighten themselves by putting everyone else around them down.
I'm sure he does like you. He does this to friends and enemies both the same, I'm not sure he even sees a difference.
It's not you that this says something about. It's him, everything's a transaction with him.
( he's right. nick does know that, somewhere. knows exactly the kind of person that the chevalier is, because nick had been drawn to exactly those worst kinds of traits when he was busy trying to ruin himself. knowing it and feeling it are very different things, though, and he's having a hard time reconciling it all.
he closes his eyes for a moment, relaxes into the touch. it doesn't make any sense, to be so caught up in the words of someone nick wouldn't even go as far as to call a friend, when there are so many good people around him that show him exactly who they are, every day. old wounds run deep though, and this particular one has been around since long before duplicity. he shifts back, enough that he can bring the glass up to his lips, and it's a neat little bit of magic that keeps the liquid from spilling out of the glass and over his face as he takes a drink. well-practiced. )
You know, I'm not doing anything with my life. Back home, I mean. Like, all I do is get high and fuck around. Everyone I knew left town after they graduated, I just...stayed. So like, I know you think he's wrong, but I don't...I don't know. I mean the evidence is kind of there.
[ It occurs to Nate that Nick has never talked to him about what his plans were, back home. He keeps his hand in his hair, keeps petting him. ]
You know, you're like...20. You don't have to have your whole life figured out, you have time.
But like...I could give two shits what the Chevalier thinks of you. I do give a shit what you think of you. So maybe...we should talk about that? Like are you unhappy with what you're doing with yourself?
I didn't think I was. I thought it was fine, you know. I mean like, who's going to complain? I barely work, I just sell shit when I feel like it. I do whatever I want, whenever I want.
( nick doesn't talk about his life outside of duplicity, as a rule. he doesn't bring it up, doesn't ask questions. he'll answer them, throw around casual anecdotes now and then, but if he'd thought about why he veered away from the topic so much, he would have expected that it was easier. that he wouldn't miss home so much, that he wouldn't think about the homes waiting for other people.
these days, he suspects that it's because he doesn't have an awful lot to tell. )
But like--I mean, like I'm doing some of that here too, I still sell, I still fuck around, whatever. But some of the stuff we do, it's...I don't know, it's different. It feels bigger. I dropped out of school at like, fifteen, haven't done shit with myself since. Sometimes I feel like I missed my chance to do something that matters.
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but you dont have to do it for me. i just got my feelings hurt, i'll get over it.
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come on. we can watch an upsettingly porny christmas movie and get drunk on egg nog
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but secondly, i wouldn't care if you were crying because you stubbed your toenail in a door, it still wouldn't be stupid.
come here and let me take care of you please
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are you home now?
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open arms waiting for you
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ok i wont be long. pour me something strong
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i'll put extra shots in it, i promise
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see you soon x
( soon actually isn't all that accurate. he takes a little longer than necessary, tries to walk off the miserable downturns in his mouth, but it's about as effective as expected.
by the time he's knocking on nate's door, he's no better for it, but he still cracks a smile when he sees nate. it's impossible not to, even if he is feeling unpleasantly wounded and exposed. and he keeps the smile firmly in place, because that's what nick does. )
I love Christmas movies, you know. I don't even care that it's going to be packed full of porn, I'll still love it.
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Then he's taking Nick's hands to usher him inside, and bring him through to the living room where a big bowl of creamy egg nog is waiting, and the sofa is piled high with pillows so comfy, it's very clear they were put here by someone far more interested in interior design than Nate. ]
Remember you said that when you see Santa's grotto of elf subs. Fucking disturbing.
How d'you feel?
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( which is probably an answer to the question in and of itself, in the way he winds his hands around nate's and raising his eyebrows like it's some kind of game. like it wasn't one of the shittiest nights in a little while that had him here in the first place.
he's trying to be better, more upfront with his feelings, but the lazy grin and wink comes so much easier to him. it's hard to choose a different route, even when the sting of it is your main boon still feels fresh and raw. )
I feel like one of those drinks, is what I feel.
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But he's all old and hairy-
[ And then he thinks of Logan, and his eyes slide meaningfully to Nick. ]
- which...there is nothing wrong with. Let me pour you some.
[ He goes to get some generous glasses of that nog. ]
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( it shouldn't really be comforting, but after what feels like months of nothing but fraught conversations about the short, burly elephant in the room, a light joke practically feels like a revelation.
he flips down right into the cushions, wriggling until he finds a position that's comfortable and mostly horizontal. there's plenty of space by his head by design, a space for nate that he's immediately going to co-opt. Nick has an awful lot of faith in his ability to drink from a glass while mostly lying down, it seems. )
You know, everyone always says you shouldn't like...give a fuck what anyone else thinks, but I do. A lot. It's exhausting.
( so maybe he's going to touch on the day's events, just a little. )
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The people who say they don't care are the ones who care the most, trust me.
[ He speaks with some experience. ]
It's okay to care. Not that I think that guy's worth a second of your time, but. You like him, yeah?
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( nick settles in with his head on nate's lap, twisting with the drink held carefully until he can press his face against nate's stomach and let out the exhale that he feels like he's been holding onto for hours. he's still trying to figure out how to let the "i'm fine" smile slip away completely, be a bit more honest with himself, but he's closer. )
It's just--I want to see the good in people, you know? But he's someone I've known for months, and he wants to say shit like that to, what, make a point? He knew that picture was me, but he put it up anyway. What do I do with that?
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I've seen him a lot on the Network. Never talked to him. [ Just to be clear on that point. He doesn't personally know the man. ] He reminds me of-- the worst kind of elitist snobs. Not the kind who actually have money and dignity, but the kind who want to leach off the ones that do. Desperate for attention and desperate to heighten themselves by putting everyone else around them down.
I'm sure he does like you. He does this to friends and enemies both the same, I'm not sure he even sees a difference.
It's not you that this says something about. It's him, everything's a transaction with him.
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( he's right. nick does know that, somewhere. knows exactly the kind of person that the chevalier is, because nick had been drawn to exactly those worst kinds of traits when he was busy trying to ruin himself. knowing it and feeling it are very different things, though, and he's having a hard time reconciling it all.
he closes his eyes for a moment, relaxes into the touch. it doesn't make any sense, to be so caught up in the words of someone nick wouldn't even go as far as to call a friend, when there are so many good people around him that show him exactly who they are, every day. old wounds run deep though, and this particular one has been around since long before duplicity. he shifts back, enough that he can bring the glass up to his lips, and it's a neat little bit of magic that keeps the liquid from spilling out of the glass and over his face as he takes a drink. well-practiced. )
You know, I'm not doing anything with my life. Back home, I mean. Like, all I do is get high and fuck around. Everyone I knew left town after they graduated, I just...stayed. So like, I know you think he's wrong, but I don't...I don't know. I mean the evidence is kind of there.
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You know, you're like...20. You don't have to have your whole life figured out, you have time.
But like...I could give two shits what the Chevalier thinks of you. I do give a shit what you think of you. So maybe...we should talk about that? Like are you unhappy with what you're doing with yourself?
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( nick doesn't talk about his life outside of duplicity, as a rule. he doesn't bring it up, doesn't ask questions. he'll answer them, throw around casual anecdotes now and then, but if he'd thought about why he veered away from the topic so much, he would have expected that it was easier. that he wouldn't miss home so much, that he wouldn't think about the homes waiting for other people.
these days, he suspects that it's because he doesn't have an awful lot to tell. )
But like--I mean, like I'm doing some of that here too, I still sell, I still fuck around, whatever. But some of the stuff we do, it's...I don't know, it's different. It feels bigger. I dropped out of school at like, fifteen, haven't done shit with myself since. Sometimes I feel like I missed my chance to do something that matters.
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