[ They're sharing again, and this time, it feels important somehow. These small truths that they tell each other in the dark. He turns his head into Carver's hand, pressing into the warmth of it and trying to think. ]
And you never got close to anyone.
[ It's almost a question, but Larus believes he already knows the answer to that. ]
[ Carver shakes his head, watching Larus. There’s an odd cast to the moment, something melancholy but honest. There’s weight to it, all these things they know about each other. ]
[ It's a name he hasn't forgotten, recalling the photo and their last conversation about him. There had been blood and pain and Carver ranting about tests, about God, and for a moment, Larus isn't sure he should hear the rest of this. They're close now, but what does that mean? How much more do they have to tell before something changes, before it falls apart?
Larus kisses him with all of that in mind, their noses bumping. ]
How did it happen?
[ If he wants to tell him goes unspoken but hangs there in the silence. ]
[ It’s not something he talks about, not even with Shaw and the others. Not since he found her in that cabin and the relief of seeing her again was so stark and sharp it felt like dying — and only then did he realize that she was alone, that Matthew wasn’t with her. She took them all to the grave and words were said, Mancea speaking in tongues to honor all they’d lost, and that was the end of it. What else was there to say? It just became another ghost. Something to carry.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he exhales, smoothing his thumb along the line of Larus’s jaw. ]
The dead broke through the perimeter, [ he explains softly. ] And it was — it was bad. Our brothers got torn to pieces. So many…
[ Carver’s voice glows distant, trailing off for a moment before he shakes himself. ]
We’d barely made it out when we realized Leah and Matthew weren’t with us. And we went back for them. Cleared fifteen miles in every direction, checked every body we found, but they were just…gone. We kept looking, though.
[ The smile he gives Larus is small, and sad. ]
Took us six years. And then we found her living out in this little cabin. I knew she was alive — I just knew. Felt it, maybe. God, seeing her again…
But she was alone. And it turned out he didn’t make it. He died right after we got separated, and she had to carry that alone.
I went to the grave, [ he adds softly. ] She grew flowers for him.
[ It's not the first time he's heard Carver speak this much, but there's something incredibly heavy about it, trying to imagine what it must be like to live in a world like that. Even in the Dusk, there's still some semblance of normal. People carry on with their lives and do their best to ignore it when vampires or other supernaturals upend the routine, but they live. They don't exist in a fear brought about by the end of the world, don't corner themselves off and simply try to exist. Survive. He doesn't know that kind of grief, doesn't know how to respond.
So, he leans into the touch before bringing his own hand up to cup the side of Carver's face. ]
You loved him. [ That much, he can tell, is obvious. His voice is quiet. ] I know it must hurt, but it's good to remember those things. It's human.
[ If he ever forgets that, will that make him the real monster he's afraid he already is? No remorse, no pain—nothing that separates him from the cold, uncaring thing he tries to pretend he is. The way he frowns must be telling, trying to shake it even as he nudges his face against Carver's. Gentle, easy. ]
But you don't have to carry it on your own. You're not alone here. Not when we're together.
[ Larus sighs, biting down on his tongue for a moment. Feeling too much makes him unsteady. ]
[ There’s something uncertain in the way Larus looks at him then, something quiet and careful. But the way he touches Carver’s face is gentle, steadying, and Carver closes his eyes as he presses into it. You loved him, Larus said, and it wasn’t a question.
Yeah, Carver thinks. Yeah, I did. He was my nephew and I watched him grow and then I stood over his grave.
He exhales. He doesn’t open his eyes. ]
You’re the only one who knows, [ he says, very softly. ] You’re the only one who knows a lot of things, Larus.
[ That should mean something. Maybe it does mean something, more than either of them can figure out as things are now. Larus wonders what will happen in the future. Days, weeks, months from this moment. What would it be like if Carver happened to disappear? What would he do? It's a gut-wrenching feeling, biting deeper into his tongue and cutting the edge of it against a fang.
He tastes his own blood and swallows. ]
You're the only one who knows a lot of things about me too. [ An obvious statement, clearly. ] I want you to be the only one.
[ There's something horribly intimate about this, the way they're pressed against each other. There's care in it, an understanding of what's brittle underneath the surface.
Carver smoothes this thumb against Larus's jaw. Gentle, just like before. ]
[ They're always gentle now, nothing that speaks of anything but the way they come together. Larus leans into the touch, letting his eyes settle on Carver's face. Even in the dark, he can make out the lines of it. How well he knows it, even when they're far apart. ]
Do you want it to be something?
[ Maybe this isn't the right time to talk about this, but there's really nothing else he'd rather say. ]
[ He doesn't know what it would mean either. This isn't something he's ever done before or even spoken about with anyone. He and Casimir had never officially been together, but Larus had also never sought anyone else out in the same manner either. This thing with Carver is so much more than that though, slowly shifting so he can sit up.
His hands rest on Carver's chest, and he needs that, he thinks. He needs this connection. ]
It could mean anything we wanted it to, [ he says eventually, fingertips stroking down his chest. ] Is that all you want? To keep seeing me?
[ Slowly, Carver opens his eyes so he can look at Larus. Take him all in. The way they’re watching each other, how Larus rests his hands on Carver’s chest. Steadying. ]
Seems like a place to start, [ he says softly. ] That okay?
[ He isn't sure if this is a choice or not. Larus had already decided he'd wanted to be with Carver in some way, and if he says no, it's counterintuitive to what he actually wants. To what Carver seems to want as well. So, in the end, all Larus does is nod before realizing he should probably speak. ]
Yes. [ He frowns, and then, his expression smooths. ] I already told you that I couldn't stop thinking about you. I don't want this to stop either.
[ It seems like there ought to be more to it. For all the ways they’ve collided, the agreement here feels almost too simple. Carver watches Larus for a long moment, taking him in. Then he exhales. ]
I tell you how me and Riley got together? I don’t think I did.
[ He shakes his head a little. ]
There’s shit you don’t do in the Army. Joke about fucking men, whatever that’s just a thing people say. But you don’t get caught.
[ It’s all said rather simply. Just how it was. ]
He was a door gunner. Picked my squad up a couple times when we were out beyond the wire. God, he looked good when he stood in the sun. And I could see him watching me, sometimes. Didn’t mind. I wouldn’t have done anything but I knew. And then one day his crew got hit by an RPG.
He walked it off, [ Carver adds softly. ] But the pilot died, and Riley got torn up. Nearly lost an eye. I went to see him after the medics let him go, and he grabbed me by the collar and shoved me against the wall. Right there where anyone could’ve seen. I could taste the blood when he kissed me. Thought it was a little fucked up but that was just how it went. That — collision.
[ Like this, he thinks, watching Larus. Wondering if maybe he’s just rambling on about the past and a man Larus has never met and will never know. Maybe none of this makes sense. But he tells the story anyway, the way he’s told Larus so much that no one else know. They mirror each other in that way. This is just a continuation. ]
[ It's strange to think, now, that there are all these subtle differences between them, listening to Carver talk and picking out the things he doesn't quite understand. He'd never been in the military or heard anyone really talk about it. His family hadn't touched those kinds of politics, only briefly when his father had decided to begin courting contacts in The Factory. But that's a different sort of army, one that no one has any right to control, and more than that, he wonders if there's a place in his world where it's not openly spoken about to be with someone of the same gender.
Maybe. He isn't so widely traveled though.
Still, Carver telling him all of this has some sort of point to it, thinking back to the times they've collided and how much they've hurt each other. How much Larus refuses to do that to him now. He stares at him, searching through the darkness and trying to push the pieces together. ]
Sometimes, I think that sort of violence finds people and doesn't let them go. You search for it because you don't know anything else. Or you might not want anything else.
[ His expression twists, clearly uncertain as his fingers curl against Carver's chest. ]
Casimir and I weren't even together. Not like that. [ Not like Carver and Riley had been. ] We wanted different things all the time. I could only think about killing Sun, and he tried so hard to free others like him. Gifted, supernatural – whatever you want to call it. It didn't matter if it cost him his own life. I didn't care if my revenge cost me mine.
[ He doesn't know why he's saying this. ] At least you had someone who could see you.
[ When he swallows, this time, it hurts, and he grits his teeth, struggling with the emotion that rises up in his chest. There's too much truth in the words that sit on the tip of his tongue, the breath he exhales harsh when he leans down and rests his forehead to Carver's. ]
I want you to see me, Brandon. No one else ever has.
[ They watch each other, and they tell each other the truth, and who's to say where that ends? What it will cost? Carver exhales and cups a hand to the back of Larus's neck, holding him steady. Rubbing at his head. He tries to be gentle about it. This time, they aren't hurting each other. ]
Like's drawn to like, [ he says softly. ] It didn't last with Riley. I wanted it to but it didn't. I needed things he didn't.
[ The war. The way clarity comes from violence. ]
I do. See you.
[ He squeezes the back of Larus's neck, closing his eyes. ]
[ It didn't last because nothing ever does. Not really. Will this last, he wonders. It can only reach so far as neither of them getting sent back home, an unsettling thought because Carver is dead in his world and Larus... well, all he remembers is darkness and pain from his. And if they somehow manage to stay there for years, Larus doesn't age.
But he has to push that aside and not think of it in terms of forever. This is something they just do. ]
What do you think you know about me?
[ Larus presses into him, wanting to be close. Before, at the start, he'd told him he didn't know him. Now, he isn't so sure that's true anymore. ]
[ There’s weight to that question. Carver sighs, thinking it over. He’s not good with words, not really. That was never his role. But he knows how it feels to have Larus pressed against him, the way they hold each other now — the care in it — and that doesn’t come from nothing. You have to build that.
He runs his fingers through Larus’s hair. Gentle, just like before. His voice is soft. ]
You put on a good mask. All stoic. I hated that about you at first. But I get it now, I think. It’s easier, isn’t it?
[ Maybe that's all it is. A mask, a front. Something to hide behind to protect himself. There's no point to any of it when he's with Carver though, or when he's here in this place. Still, he seeks out the gentleness of Carver's touch and the warmth that comes with it, unwilling to speak for the seconds it takes him to lean forward and kiss him.
He kisses him until he knows he's breathless and then slowly pulls away to move onto his side next to Carver. ]
Nothing is ever that easy. [ His focus is all on the man beside him. ] But this is. I don't know why it's like that.
[ There’s no room for thinking when they move together like this. Carver cups a hand to the back of Larus’s neck as they kiss. He goes a little breathless and doesn’t mind, doesn’t do a damn thing but settle.
Funny, that. It’s so rare for him to slow down long enough for that.
He cracks his eyes, just watching Larus. Taking him in. ]
[ He doubts that but says nothing about it, wanting to kiss him again. All of this is more than something that happens now, resting his weight on an elbow and using his free hand to reach out and touch Carver's face. His thumb sweeps along his cheek, his jaw. ]
Do you really believe that?
[ Larus wonders if it's anything like fate and if Carver believes in that too. ]
[ He shifts a little so he can run his fingers through Larus's hair again. Keep up the gesture. It's almost meditative now. Something calming even as Larus touches him in turn. Tracing him out. Carver doesn't mind. It's what they do, what they've done for a while now.
The pattern builds. It stretches out. ]
Some things you just survive. It just is.
[ All that awful, brutal shit. It can't be changed, so you endure. He watches for a long time, just touching his hair. Rubbing at his head. Then: ]
[ He can't help the way his eyes close, how it'd be easy to press closer and drag Carver's arms around him. Just to feel that connection, to be secure in this place that's still strange to them both. It doesn't filter in all at once, but Larus realizes, in that very moment, that he's tired. Tired of the games, the masks, this strained sort of existence.
But being free of it means death, and he doesn't want to die. ]
Maybe. [ The agreement is soft. ] I never let myself think about those things, but it's different with you.
[ Carver nods just once. It wasn't like this at the start. He approached Larus because he was paid to and that should have been the end of it. But it spiraled. It shifted into something different. ]
It is.
[ He's quiet for a long moment, then shifts and puts an arm around Larus. ]
Don't know what it means. But I like how it feels with you.
[ It's a quiet moment, something that's pulled even tighter when Carver embraces him, and he leans close, breathing him in and listening to the gentle sound of his heart beating. These are things he'll never forget, doesn't want to forget. It's odd how intense that feeling is right now. ]
Tell me what else you like.
[ An obvious deflection, though he presses his mouth to the column of Carver's throat to soften it. ]
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And you never got close to anyone.
[ It's almost a question, but Larus believes he already knows the answer to that. ]
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We closed ranks, after —
[ He hesitates, then exhales. ]
After Matthew died.
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Larus kisses him with all of that in mind, their noses bumping. ]
How did it happen?
[ If he wants to tell him goes unspoken but hangs there in the silence. ]
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He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he exhales, smoothing his thumb along the line of Larus’s jaw. ]
The dead broke through the perimeter, [ he explains softly. ] And it was — it was bad. Our brothers got torn to pieces. So many…
[ Carver’s voice glows distant, trailing off for a moment before he shakes himself. ]
We’d barely made it out when we realized Leah and Matthew weren’t with us. And we went back for them. Cleared fifteen miles in every direction, checked every body we found, but they were just…gone. We kept looking, though.
[ The smile he gives Larus is small, and sad. ]
Took us six years. And then we found her living out in this little cabin. I knew she was alive — I just knew. Felt it, maybe. God, seeing her again…
But she was alone. And it turned out he didn’t make it. He died right after we got separated, and she had to carry that alone.
I went to the grave, [ he adds softly. ] She grew flowers for him.
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So, he leans into the touch before bringing his own hand up to cup the side of Carver's face. ]
You loved him. [ That much, he can tell, is obvious. His voice is quiet. ] I know it must hurt, but it's good to remember those things. It's human.
[ If he ever forgets that, will that make him the real monster he's afraid he already is? No remorse, no pain—nothing that separates him from the cold, uncaring thing he tries to pretend he is. The way he frowns must be telling, trying to shake it even as he nudges his face against Carver's. Gentle, easy. ]
But you don't have to carry it on your own. You're not alone here. Not when we're together.
[ Larus sighs, biting down on his tongue for a moment. Feeling too much makes him unsteady. ]
Not when you have me.
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Yeah, Carver thinks. Yeah, I did. He was my nephew and I watched him grow and then I stood over his grave.
He exhales. He doesn’t open his eyes. ]
You’re the only one who knows, [ he says, very softly. ] You’re the only one who knows a lot of things, Larus.
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He tastes his own blood and swallows. ]
You're the only one who knows a lot of things about me too. [ An obvious statement, clearly. ] I want you to be the only one.
[ Whatever that means. He thinks he knows. ]
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Carver smoothes this thumb against Larus's jaw. Gentle, just like before. ]
This is something, isn't it? This thing we do.
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[ They're always gentle now, nothing that speaks of anything but the way they come together. Larus leans into the touch, letting his eyes settle on Carver's face. Even in the dark, he can make out the lines of it. How well he knows it, even when they're far apart. ]
Do you want it to be something?
[ Maybe this isn't the right time to talk about this, but there's really nothing else he'd rather say. ]
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It’s dangerous to want things beyond sheer survival. People use it against you. ]
I don’t know what that’d mean, [ he admits softy. ] But I don’t want to stop. What we do. How we are.
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His hands rest on Carver's chest, and he needs that, he thinks. He needs this connection. ]
It could mean anything we wanted it to, [ he says eventually, fingertips stroking down his chest. ] Is that all you want? To keep seeing me?
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Seems like a place to start, [ he says softly. ] That okay?
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Yes. [ He frowns, and then, his expression smooths. ] I already told you that I couldn't stop thinking about you. I don't want this to stop either.
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I tell you how me and Riley got together? I don’t think I did.
[ He shakes his head a little. ]
There’s shit you don’t do in the Army. Joke about fucking men, whatever that’s just a thing people say. But you don’t get caught.
[ It’s all said rather simply. Just how it was. ]
He was a door gunner. Picked my squad up a couple times when we were out beyond the wire. God, he looked good when he stood in the sun. And I could see him watching me, sometimes. Didn’t mind. I wouldn’t have done anything but I knew. And then one day his crew got hit by an RPG.
He walked it off, [ Carver adds softly. ] But the pilot died, and Riley got torn up. Nearly lost an eye. I went to see him after the medics let him go, and he grabbed me by the collar and shoved me against the wall. Right there where anyone could’ve seen. I could taste the blood when he kissed me. Thought it was a little fucked up but that was just how it went. That — collision.
[ Like this, he thinks, watching Larus. Wondering if maybe he’s just rambling on about the past and a man Larus has never met and will never know. Maybe none of this makes sense. But he tells the story anyway, the way he’s told Larus so much that no one else know. They mirror each other in that way. This is just a continuation. ]
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Maybe. He isn't so widely traveled though.
Still, Carver telling him all of this has some sort of point to it, thinking back to the times they've collided and how much they've hurt each other. How much Larus refuses to do that to him now. He stares at him, searching through the darkness and trying to push the pieces together. ]
Sometimes, I think that sort of violence finds people and doesn't let them go. You search for it because you don't know anything else. Or you might not want anything else.
[ His expression twists, clearly uncertain as his fingers curl against Carver's chest. ]
Casimir and I weren't even together. Not like that. [ Not like Carver and Riley had been. ] We wanted different things all the time. I could only think about killing Sun, and he tried so hard to free others like him. Gifted, supernatural – whatever you want to call it. It didn't matter if it cost him his own life. I didn't care if my revenge cost me mine.
[ He doesn't know why he's saying this. ] At least you had someone who could see you.
[ When he swallows, this time, it hurts, and he grits his teeth, struggling with the emotion that rises up in his chest. There's too much truth in the words that sit on the tip of his tongue, the breath he exhales harsh when he leans down and rests his forehead to Carver's. ]
I want you to see me, Brandon. No one else ever has.
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Like's drawn to like, [ he says softly. ] It didn't last with Riley. I wanted it to but it didn't. I needed things he didn't.
[ The war. The way clarity comes from violence. ]
I do. See you.
[ He squeezes the back of Larus's neck, closing his eyes. ]
I know you, I think.
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But he has to push that aside and not think of it in terms of forever. This is something they just do. ]
What do you think you know about me?
[ Larus presses into him, wanting to be close. Before, at the start, he'd told him he didn't know him. Now, he isn't so sure that's true anymore. ]
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He runs his fingers through Larus’s hair. Gentle, just like before. His voice is soft. ]
You put on a good mask. All stoic. I hated that about you at first. But I get it now, I think. It’s easier, isn’t it?
[ Masks usually are. ]
And you love your sister. You always will.
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He kisses him until he knows he's breathless and then slowly pulls away to move onto his side next to Carver. ]
Nothing is ever that easy. [ His focus is all on the man beside him. ] But this is. I don't know why it's like that.
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Funny, that. It’s so rare for him to slow down long enough for that.
He cracks his eyes, just watching Larus. Taking him in. ]
Neither do I. Maybe it just is.
[ Collision. Aftermath. This. ]
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Do you really believe that?
[ Larus wonders if it's anything like fate and if Carver believes in that too. ]
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The pattern builds. It stretches out. ]
Some things you just survive. It just is.
[ All that awful, brutal shit. It can't be changed, so you endure. He watches for a long time, just touching his hair. Rubbing at his head. Then: ]
So maybe that's true for the good stuff too.
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But being free of it means death, and he doesn't want to die. ]
Maybe. [ The agreement is soft. ] I never let myself think about those things, but it's different with you.
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It is.
[ He's quiet for a long moment, then shifts and puts an arm around Larus. ]
Don't know what it means. But I like how it feels with you.
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Tell me what else you like.
[ An obvious deflection, though he presses his mouth to the column of Carver's throat to soften it. ]
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