Some things are different and others stay the same. In some ways, it's easier if Nyx doesn't... think too hard about it all and just takes things as they are, staying in the moment. Living out of Midnighter's place, buying a new set of... everything... now that his apartment is gone, spare uniform and freshly purchased underwear tucked into an unfamiliar closet, singed photos and a single stick of incense trailing smoke in the guest room, which Midnighter insists is his. And despite that, sharing a bed more often than not, even though he has his own, the sheets tucked in neatly at the corners. Now it's his turn to pull open a portal of shining golden light into another world, to step back into a life that used to be his own, the familiar twin weights of duty and purpose settling heavy upon his shoulders.
And that doesn't even include the... the other stuff, the things too good, too sweet for Nyx to dwell on, lest they slip through his fingers like sand. He lives it, and he takes things day by day, and that's enough, or it should be.
But it isn't.
He doesn't lie to Crowe and Libertus and the others, exactly. In fact, he tells them exactly the truth-- after the freak collapse and purported daemon attack that had demolished his building, he's couch surfing with Midnighter until he finds his own place. But Nyx doesn't look for a new apartment, except in the most cursory of ways, and he doesn't fend off Libertus' probing questions or Pelna's 'attaboy' slap on the shoulder either. My ultimate fucking fantasy, Midnighter had said, and the thought had stuck in his mind, and now that he's here it's easier to stay than to go, all the excuse he needs to avoid thinking about how much he wants to stay right here in Midnighter's arms, forget himself and never leave.
But leave he does, and it's a solid two weeks before he returns, tracking in swamp mud and daemon ichor clinging to his armor, one purple ribbon shredded and dangling behind him and the other torn clean off. A large, purpling bruise is beginning to form along the side of his jaw, but Nyx is in high spirits, grinning and already beginning to strip in anticipation of seeing Midnighter again, of getting picked up and enveloped in a crushing embrace and kissed senseless. Fuck, he's missed him.
"Honey, I'm home!" Stupid and cheesy, like the romcoms Libertus secretly watches on his phone.
tl;dr simple dog is too happy, feels guilty
And that doesn't even include the... the other stuff, the things too good, too sweet for Nyx to dwell on, lest they slip through his fingers like sand. He lives it, and he takes things day by day, and that's enough, or it should be.
But it isn't.
He doesn't lie to Crowe and Libertus and the others, exactly. In fact, he tells them exactly the truth-- after the freak collapse and purported daemon attack that had demolished his building, he's couch surfing with Midnighter until he finds his own place. But Nyx doesn't look for a new apartment, except in the most cursory of ways, and he doesn't fend off Libertus' probing questions or Pelna's 'attaboy' slap on the shoulder either. My ultimate fucking fantasy, Midnighter had said, and the thought had stuck in his mind, and now that he's here it's easier to stay than to go, all the excuse he needs to avoid thinking about how much he wants to stay right here in Midnighter's arms, forget himself and never leave.
But leave he does, and it's a solid two weeks before he returns, tracking in swamp mud and daemon ichor clinging to his armor, one purple ribbon shredded and dangling behind him and the other torn clean off. A large, purpling bruise is beginning to form along the side of his jaw, but Nyx is in high spirits, grinning and already beginning to strip in anticipation of seeing Midnighter again, of getting picked up and enveloped in a crushing embrace and kissed senseless. Fuck, he's missed him.
"Honey, I'm home!" Stupid and cheesy, like the romcoms Libertus secretly watches on his phone.