Chapter Text
- Up you go, bud - Pickles tugged on Nathan’s arm to help him up on the hammock, on which he was already sitting.
Nathan didn’t say a word, his heart was just too big for his chest and it took all of him to try and hide it, especially while drunk, but truth be told he loved these little moments. It made him think he made the clearest and best choice he could have made. All of it was already settled of course many years ago, promising a pact to each other with a deadline, but it always felt more convenient than romantic.
Until maybe recently. He couldn’t tell when did it all happen, all he knew and cared about was living in the now, finally again.
- Could we lay dewn for jest a lil bit? This weed’s got me spinning, I wanna see the stars spin.
- Yeah, sure.
Pickles, not wanting to get stuck under, waited for Nathan to lay his upper body against the hammock’s cloth first, then followed after, surprising Nathan as he landed on his chest, in his open arms. Nathan turned his head downwards to look at him, questioningly.
- Whet? The klokateers didn’t bring out your pillows yet.
Nathan finding himself still starstruck, didn’t dare to reply to that and somehow risk the moment slipping away from him. He knew, while he could mumble on for hours, he still wasn’t much of a big talker.
- I’ll hold you while you look, alright? Don’t fall off or… somehing.
Before Pickles could register his words, he could already feel strong paws hold him down by the arms, making him jump out of his skin. He forgot on what scale they were since last week, and started to think as he used to for almost two decades when it came to Nathan.
But before he could say anything, his vision’s replies reached his brain, and the sight just hit him intensely. Suddenly being anchored down by strong arms felt so comforting against the huge night sky that he could feel himself relax.
- Holy shit…
- Hm?
- Nate’n don’t fucking let me go, this sky is so… vast!
- What?
- Just, look at it. If ya look long enough at it, it kinda feels like you could fall right into it. And I know it’s cold, and airless out there!... Makes ya kinda thankful for having gravity around, doesn’t it?
Nathan looked up at the sky too, even if his conscious was being in a better state, he could still feel what Pickles have meant. By slowly processing.
- …It’s brutal… We had a star coming down here.
Pickles made a sharp sound of discomfort, to which Nathan looked back down at him and petted Pickles’ upper arms a few times, carefully, before looking up again.
- It was scorching.
- Nyeah. I remember. I think it’s that, something being out of place of the sky is just… scary, ya know. Like, you don’t see me worrying about a random rock getting in my way on the ground.
- Yeah, exactly.
- …But-. When it’s in place and nothing happens, it’s still not so calming, is it? You’re just glad that it stays how it should.
- Mhm.
- Do you think we would have that fear if we were out there, in a safe suit with infinite oxygen? Where we could just avoid meteors without burning to death.
His last words accidentally made Nathan flinch, as violent images popped up before his eyes.
- Pickles?
- Hm?
Pickles looked up sluggishly at his short and hectic call.
When their eyes met, Pickles turned around in his seat to stare into Nathan’s blown pupils, and as dark as his eyes were, with a pale greenish hue in the low light, it still showed the stars above them. Every little bright star could be seen being reflected, mimicking the space.
A chill went through Pickles, which spread over to Nathan from their skin contact, and they got stuck in movement.
- Dood… your eyes-! - an unpromted smile showed on Pickles for a short while, until he cancelled his thoughts and whatever he has planned to say.
Nathan’s expression could fool others from the lack of display of emotions, but after near 20 years being in-sync, Pickles could notice and tell his microexpressions apart. The wrinkles near Nathan’s eyes flinched, his surly eyebrows came just a tad closer together at the top, while his eyes started jumping within a barely noticeable length, from left to right. The corners of his mouth widened lower.
- Ohh, shiiit… Nate’n. I didn’t mean to remind you of-! - Pickles could feel himself sober up as worry struck him.
- You can’t imagine, how-... - Nathan struggled to say what he wanted, from all of his mistakes coming back to him, they were mostly pictures of Pickles’ bleeding nose, and his palm on his back always supporting him unconditionally.
He removed his grasp from one of Pickles’ arms, and brought it close in-between the two of them. Slowly lifting his hand up, he brushed the side of his finger against Pickles’ nose. Pickles looked down at the soft and shaking touch that was afraid of hurting him.
- Hey, Nate’n… - he looked back at him, but their eyes didn’t meet this time, Nathan was fixated on his past bruise that didn’t even leave a mark.
At one point he had to exhale and the hot air seemingly woke Nathan up from it. He removed his hand.
- It’s okay, I forgave you. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Okey?
Nathan shut his eyes tight for a second or two, until his eyebrows returned to their normal position.
- Okay - Nathan breathed it out.
- It’s your turn.
- Huh?
- Forgive yourself too.
As Pickles settled back into his “bed”, Nathan returned his gaze to the sky. It was indeed just normal. But it had something magical about it, even if it couldn’t be counted as calming, it was still relaxing in a way. But his question remained.
- How? What should I think of to convince myself?
Pickles mumbled something under his breath, looking anywhere but up.
- Maybe just keep that in mind that... you drank the wrong alcohol-... and that I still need you, with me… to… hold me.
Nathan listened to him and to his heart beating through his veins and freckled skin, as he slowly crossed his arms over Pickles.
- Sure… I will… I promise - Nathan whispered with a low growl trying to make Pickles believe he meant it, then took a longer pause and continued after a breathy exhale - …You anchor me too. Thanks for that.
He was starting to drift off to sleep, and it was hard to articulate the meaning. He hoped he got through though, and when Pickles nuzzled into his arms further, he had a feeling he did.
He can’t remember how much time had passed, but he remembers slightly opening his eyes to Klokateers carefully lifting up his head to place pillows under and next to him, throwing the blanket over their lower bodies, shifting up a dozed off Pickles up to his head before pulling his black, winter blanket up to their chin.
Like a kid with his Deadybear, fearing a falloff, he never once let go of their disguised hug.