extent | duplicitynet

i would cry if i stubbed my toenail in a door, that shit hurts

are you home now?

yeah i'm home

open arms waiting for you

cheesy

ok i wont be long. pour me something strong

you have so little faith in my egg nog

i'll put extra shots in it, i promise

well if there's extra shots.
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.

[ 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.

How d'you feel?

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. )

I feel like one of those drinks, is what I feel.

[ Nate makes a face. ]

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. ]

Ha ha. Make a daddy joke while you're at it.

( 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.

Yeah, maybe.

( 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.

[ Nate nods. The thing is, he gets the dropping out issue. He didn't do it, he'd left school at 18. He'd been expected to go to college, though, and he never applied. He'd used his college fund as a down payment for an apartment in London instead.

But he'd always had ambition. It just hasn't been related to school. ]

You haven't. Again, you're 20, you've got your whole life ahead of you. You just need to decide what you want to do with it.

And it doesn't have to have anything to do with magic, but...you're good, at that. You're good at doing what we do.

I've learned more here than I have in like, the last five years. Probably longer. I feel like--useful, and I'm getting better, and I can do all kinds of shit that I couldn't before I got snatched up here.

( it was something of a source of pride, honestly. nick has carved out a way to achieve more under these messed up circumstances than he ever managed to do back home, he's grown more and learned more, and actually felt useful some of the time, too.

it's all souring to the tune of one shitty conversation, and he knows, logically, that it shouldn't ruin months of progress the same way that he knows, logically, about all of chev's unpleasant personality traits that he'd been happy to ignore until now. but knowing doesn't stop him from finishing his drink, and it doesn't stop the sad downturn to the corners of his mouth. )

But I'm going to forget it all anyway and go back to being...doing nothing. So like, what's the point?

[ Nate leans down to put a kiss on the middle of Nick's forehead.

He hates seeing those downturned lips. It's a bittersweet thing, honestly, because he knows so much of Nick's usual smile is a mask. Seeing him sad means that the mask is gone, and that's a good thing. It also just means that he's sad, though, and that's not what Nate would ever want. ]

You don't know that. You could grow at home just like you've grown here. Maybe you just needed the right inspiration.

You don't know everything about what the future holds, none of us do.

I think if I go back I'm just doing to keep doing exactly what I've been doing for the last five years.

( it's not intended as self-depreciation, just something that feels inevitable to nick. he can't shake the feeling that he's convinced everyone that he's something that he's not, that the version that sits in a dingy little apartment and hasn't done anything more than get high and sleep around is the truth. that whatever it is that he's constructed here is some elaborate lie.

he also knows that the cycle of 'i suck' 'no you don't' isn't going to go anywhere productive for either of them, though. it's very hard to wallow in self-loathing when someone is actively contradicting you. so instead he just drains the glass, wonders vaguely why he didn't start with shots. )

It'll pass, it's fine, I just-- ( nick shrugs, closes his eyes. it's just a little easier to talk, like that. ) I don't...like myself, very much, right now.

[ Nate curls his arm around him, pulling him close. He's quiet for a few minutes, thoughtful and not wanting to say anything trite or dismissive.

His hand rubs gently along Nick's arm. ]

Did you feel this way at home? Like, did you feel bad about yourself for what you were doing, or not doing?

A bit.

( nick hasn't said so many honest things about himself in a row in some time. he talks more now, he's trying hard not to just brush off or ignore everything, but he still squirms his way out of these conversations half as often as he engages. he's still out of practice.

but nate's hand on his arm helps, and his leg under nick's head, and nick reaches up until he can find the front of nate's shirt and hold onto it, squeezing tight between his fingers, and that helps too. )

I don't let myself sober up. Like, people think I use a lot here...it's not even close. I would just— wake up, get high, stay high, no matter what I was doing, get drunk as well, pass out, and do it all over again the next day. Because if I wasn't, I started feeling all...of this shit, and I didn't want to deal with it.

[ Nate strokes his hand through Nick's hair while he talks.

He understands this. The need to stay high, or drunk, or both, to escape from all the bits of your life that you can't stand. He lets out a sigh. ]

I used all the time at home. Never saw much wrong with it, really. I never thought I was addicted, and probably wouldn't have cared if I was.

It might not always be like that, though, Nick. I mean, things changed here. They could change at home too, you haven't lived all of that life yet.

duplicitynet | inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject