this isn't quite what you wanted, but i wanted to do something with this + to finish an earlier fic so. sorta???
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He’s glad he never had to say I love you before he cut bared his throat to Nyx’s knife, and begged him to plant it home.
In hindsight, when Titus is facing Nyx down through the half-shattered helm of his armour as Glauca burns to cinders in Insomnia’s death throes, with screaming and terror in the air, each breath tasting of iron dust and demon tang and corrosion, making his throat burn and his soul char to ash, he’s glad for it.
Nyx always wants to be a hero, and Titus isn’t sure if it’s just so he’ll notice or if Nyx really wants that burden on his shoulders. The man just keeps getting better. He wants to be so good that Titus can’t look away from him, wants the rides Titus gives him home from late meetings to end in more than a wish goodnight. Sometimes, Titus can’t shake how much he wants to grab Nyx by the belt loops on his too-tight uniform pants and drag him over the centre console so he can grind his dick up into the crack of the other man’s ass, bite his lip to bleeding, and tangle his fingers in Nyx’s too-long-for-regulation hair.
But instead it’s this—a gentle turn-down when Nyx gets tipsy and falteringly comes on to him with more than a little bit of hope tucked at the corners of his mouth. A professional hand guiding him up the stairs to his apartment after a mission gone wrong and a little too much blood left on both their hands. A brotherly hug. A hug he tries to make fatherly, although it doesn’t work because Titus is far and away too young to be his father, wouldn’t want to be his father. He’s never wanted a son.
Nyx knows how ruthless Dautos is, and never seems to mind when he speaks of the King’s softness, demands Nyx be nothing but a blade surefire forged in steel. Nyx doesn’t care, he figures it’s just how Drautos has to be, and doesn’t realise just how right he is. And in turn he tries to make Nyx sharper, deadlier, something he could take with him when Insomnia falls and what he gets is:
Nyx watching him, listening to him, and loving him.
Nyx is foolhardy and has a death wish, and as likely to shut up as a kick in the teeth, and the way he looks at Titus like he could shoulder the weight of the world if he tried makes him want to, some monstrous Titan with the Meteor upon his shoulders for one more day of that blind adoration. The way Nyx makes his eyes soften when he does something right, or the way that when Nyx does something wrong he almost seems to want the caustic taste of Drautos’ tongue flaying him alive, wants to see how far he can push Drautos before he snaps like new firewood superheated to explode, and it’s when Nyx does this that Drautos can see how deadly he is, honed to an edge so sharp he could pry the skin from your bones.
He knows that he isn’t supposed to fall in love with Nyx Ulric.
He has eyes, he has a good head on his shoulders, and he’s been a spy in enemy territory for more than a decade, and he knows when to keep his mouth shut. He isn’t stupid. He’s never been stupid.
Titus knows that there are things he shouldn’t do.
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timeasmymeasure
SORTA?FILL: Re: Drautos/Nyx,
Date: 2017-01-23 01:48 am (UTC)——————————
He’s glad he never had to say I love you before he cut bared his throat to Nyx’s knife, and begged him to plant it home.
In hindsight, when Titus is facing Nyx down through the half-shattered helm of his armour as Glauca burns to cinders in Insomnia’s death throes, with screaming and terror in the air, each breath tasting of iron dust and demon tang and corrosion, making his throat burn and his soul char to ash, he’s glad for it.
Nyx always wants to be a hero, and Titus isn’t sure if it’s just so he’ll notice or if Nyx really wants that burden on his shoulders. The man just keeps getting better. He wants to be so good that Titus can’t look away from him, wants the rides Titus gives him home from late meetings to end in more than a wish goodnight. Sometimes, Titus can’t shake how much he wants to grab Nyx by the belt loops on his too-tight uniform pants and drag him over the centre console so he can grind his dick up into the crack of the other man’s ass, bite his lip to bleeding, and tangle his fingers in Nyx’s too-long-for-regulation hair.
But instead it’s this—a gentle turn-down when Nyx gets tipsy and falteringly comes on to him with more than a little bit of hope tucked at the corners of his mouth. A professional hand guiding him up the stairs to his apartment after a mission gone wrong and a little too much blood left on both their hands. A brotherly hug. A hug he tries to make fatherly, although it doesn’t work because Titus is far and away too young to be his father, wouldn’t want to be his father. He’s never wanted a son.
Nyx knows how ruthless Dautos is, and never seems to mind when he speaks of the King’s softness, demands Nyx be nothing but a blade surefire forged in steel. Nyx doesn’t care, he figures it’s just how Drautos has to be, and doesn’t realise just how right he is. And in turn he tries to make Nyx sharper, deadlier, something he could take with him when Insomnia falls and what he gets is:
Nyx watching him, listening to him, and loving him.
Nyx is foolhardy and has a death wish, and as likely to shut up as a kick in the teeth, and the way he looks at Titus like he could shoulder the weight of the world if he tried makes him want to, some monstrous Titan with the Meteor upon his shoulders for one more day of that blind adoration. The way Nyx makes his eyes soften when he does something right, or the way that when Nyx does something wrong he almost seems to want the caustic taste of Drautos’ tongue flaying him alive, wants to see how far he can push Drautos before he snaps like new firewood superheated to explode, and it’s when Nyx does this that Drautos can see how deadly he is, honed to an edge so sharp he could pry the skin from your bones.
He knows that he isn’t supposed to fall in love with Nyx Ulric.
He has eyes, he has a good head on his shoulders, and he’s been a spy in enemy territory for more than a decade, and he knows when to keep his mouth shut. He isn’t stupid. He’s never been stupid.
Titus knows that there are things he shouldn’t do.