fourstrings | pray i pray come back to me

pray i pray come back to me

[ It costs him something, to go to Durgesh and play nice with Yuma. To joke and act like it’s not tearing him apart, like he wouldn’t bomb the place to powder just to keep Ajay away from it. But he does it; he chats and jokes, bickers with Yuma and drops in a line or two of Cantonese in the hopes of evoking that long-lost sibling affection, because he knows that if he lets her see just how frantic he is it’s going to cost him everything.

It hurts, too, not to tip his hand when they pull the bag off Ajay’s head. Things have been... unusual, since Ajay showed up on his doorstep with de Pleur. Admittedly Pagan could be viewed as having started it, given he’s the one who stripped off and climbed into the bath right alongside his guest, but Ajay is the one who kissed him. And Ajay is the one who was gone in the morning (with what Pagan can only imagine was one hell of a hangover) and had answered Pagan’s attempts to stay in touch via radio with either stoic silence or brief, awkward acknowledgement, so he too must share the blame! But the point is that they haven’t really had a chance to talk it out, and so Ajay has no way of knowing that when Pagan calls him a naughty little shit and plays it off as entertaining, that’s the only protection he can offer Ajay without provoking Yuma to do something worse.

Too many unknowns. Too many variables. There are only two things he’s certain of, but as it goes they’re rather good things in the circumstances: firstly, that Ajay Ghale is far too tenacious to simply give over to Yuma’s attentions and will definitely escape. Secondly, Ajay will not have to do this alone. Pagan has men among Yuma’s guard, of course. Not enough to make it easy, but enough to ensure there are weapons and ammo left in places they might be discovered. Enough to get a message to him once Ajay is on the move. And once that signal comes, it’s a blur of action. They can’t get a helicopter close enough to take Ajay directly to it without alerting Yuma, of course, so a jeep is sent out to collect him and bring him to the chopper. There’s a fight about that; he insists upon being in the jeep, his staff insist this cannot be permitted, and in the end Gary drives it out himself, a full half hour before schedule, just to prevent him. In the end, it’s for the best; if he’d been able to witness Ajay’s progress down the cliff he’d have lost his mind, given the game away. He damn near loses his mind anyway when they finally bundle Ajay into the helicopter. He isn’t conscious. The worst of the snow is off him so he’s damp rather than caked with ice, but his skin is waxy and cold to the touch. There are blankets, thick, soft wool, and as the helicopter takes off and Gary prepares an iv Pagan strips both Ajay and himself to underwear and bundles them into a veritable cocoon in the hopes of warming the boy up, muttering pleas for him to be alright all the while.

By the time they land the deathly chill is out of Ajay’s skin and any lingering effects of the drugs should be faded. Ajay still isn’t what one would call conscious, but he’s stirred in Pagan’s arms, murmured things – unintelligible, but enough to bring hope. And Pagan has Ajay brought directly to his room, only angry that he can’t carry the boy there himself, and slips right back into bed with him. Brushes a dry little kiss against Ajay’s forehead, begs him to be okay, and presses up close. It’s a waiting game now, and Pagan is painfully good at waiting. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh.

[ it's a soft thing, awed. ajay can't help the urge to reach out and touch it, splaying his fingers over the colors and letting his fingertips stroke gently down the peacock's throat. it's beautiful -- as bold and flashy as pagan, but also just as wonderfully fierce. ]

[ Oh, that's nice. The feeling of Ajay's hand over his back, fingertips tracing where Pagan knows the peacock is, and he smiles. ]

Triad puffery, but at least mine's unique and not picked off a wall. Yuma has one too. We all got them, back them, once you rose above errand boy or dumb grunt.

[ triad. it's something he didn't know, and it helps flesh out a chapter of pagan before kyrat. there's a lot he could ask, but he's not entirely sure if it's allowed -- the past is something of a minefield, and it's hard to go in blind and predict where not to step.

so he stays quiet for a long moment, fingertips mapping out the shape of the tattoo. it really is beautiful, and fitting as hell. hard to believe he ever imagined pagan's back without it. ]

You're the peacock. [ there's an amused fondness there, the pad of his thumb stroking along that sharpened beak. ] Obviously.

Who's the dragon?

[ Oh, he's in trouble, because as fond as Ajay sounds Pagan can hear teh amusement in his voice, and he likes it. Likes the sound of it, likes the feeling of Ajay's fingers on his skin, likes that Ajay is comfortable saying it, like they're perfectly equal. He turns his head, and it's only enough to let him see the vague shape of Ajay's face, but it's enough. ]

My father. A common drug pusher who fancied himself a kingpin.

[ it doesn't answer everything, but it fills in more than one blank. and he hmms another low sound of acknowledgement as he goes back to simply touching, tracing his fingers lazily around the plume of one brilliant feather. and then he props himself up on his elbow, just enough to be able to press a warm and open-mouthed kiss to that inked skin. ]

Wonder what I'd be.

[ if pagan says honey badger, ajay is kicking him right out of bed. ]

A tiger.

[ He says it without a second thought before he twists around, that kiss to his back making him want one direct from Ajay's lips to his own, germs be damned. ]

In Chinese mythology, the tiger comes from the west. Protects the good, kills the evil, brings balance between opposites. Is known for his beauty and ferocity.

[ And he wears the mark of a king on his forehead, written in his stripes. Pagan lifts one hand and traces it out on Ajay's skin, between his eyes: 王 ]

[ oh.

listen, it was just a silly hypothetical, but --

there's a fierce sort of conviction in pagan's voice that makes something in ajay's chest catch and swell. it almost aches to be adored like this, as if he's some fierce and beautiful thing, and he's torn between the urge to shy away from it and this hopeless craving for more.

in the end, he settles for throwing an arm over pagan and pulling him back down to the mattress, tangling their legs together and tucking up close all over again. ] Maybe I'll get one someday. A tattoo.

[ and then his voice drops down into something shy, fingers skating lightly up the line of pagan's throat. ] And only we'd know why.

[ because he's pagan's tiger. ]

[ Well, if Pagan's going to be shirtless it's only fair that Ajay is too, so he squirms only enough to get the required distance to peel Ajay's shirt away before he tucks back in close. There. Skin-to-skin, warm, and all the better for just being for the sheer joy of it this time. Ajay's fingertips track a gentle line up Pagan's throat and he tips his head back, offering it up. A tiger from legend would tear it out, certainly, but this tiger sees the good in him. Makes him want to stoke it from a spark into a bonfire that Ajay can warm himself by. ]

My tiger. My Ajay.

[ he huffs a little sound of protest -- but it has nothing to do with pagan stripping off his shirt, and everything to do with the fact that his cuddles are briefly interrupted. but it isn't long before the other man draws him back in and tucks him close, and this time, there's all the loveliness of skin against skin.

my tiger. pagan calls him. my ajay.

and it's so tender that it makes something in him ache, so much that he has to duck his head to press a kiss under pagan's jaw because he's sure it must be written all over his face. he doesn't deserve this, not after everything he's done -- he doesn't deserve to still have the doors thrown open for him without question, to be wrapped up in all this warm adoration. ]

... it's really okay if I'm here? [ he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it. again and again and again. ]

Of course.

[ Because as far as Pagan's concerned, this is Ajay's home. Mohan had whored Ishwari out when Ajay was only a year old; he spent longer here in the palace then he ever spent with his hateful father and the Golden Path. And perhaps that's not an appropriate thought when they're together like this, tangled up in a way that for all its chasteness is far from familial, but the fact remains that even before that bus crossed the border Ajay occupied more space in Pagan's heart than he did for anyone else in Kyrat. He couldn't possibly have known what it would become but it was love all the same, and he refuses to be ashamed of that. ]

We've been waiting for you.

[ what are you supposed to say to that? it's more of that unconditional affection that he can scarcely even bare to wrap his mind around, the kind of unrelenting love that he's only known from one other person in his life. it's impossible to believe he deserves it -- but pagan keeps offering it up to him, again and again and again, and the depth of it makes ajay's heart ache.

whatever he wants to say in return, he can't get the words out. so he settles for squeezing the arm he has around pagan, hoping that's enough to press in some of the message. ]

[ It gets through. Ajay squeezes him tight and Pagan hums in reply, pleased both with the unspoken message and the evidence that Ajay's strength is coming back to him. And really, by this point he has absolutely nobody but himself to blame if he does get sick, because he presses his lips to Ajay's once more. There's no heat in it, but for all that it's a dry, close-mouthed thing it lasts a good three seconds before he pulls back and sighs. ]

I know you have a lot to think about and a lot to do, but should you find yourself at the point where you want somewhere to call home, I would be delighted if you did so here.

I want that.

[ it comes out fast enough to make him fluster, coughing a little embarrassed sound and trying to, uh. not sound that he's already moving his stuff in and planning their marriage. pagan offered, but still. and... besides, it seems better to set expectations. ] I mean, you're right. I've still got stuff to figure out, and there's a lot of shit to do, but.

Being able to come home sounds nice. [ there's a pause, and then? shyly: ] To you.

[ Just the acceptance is enough to make Pagan smile, but that little addition makes it unfurl across his face bright as a flower opening to the sun. Even knowing Ajay doesn't mean now, even knowing that really, they have no idea when that day might come - it's enough. A good thought, a warm thing to hold close to his heart on the nights when the top of the mountain feels lonely and cold. ]

I'll look forward to it, then. The day I can say welcome home.

[ he likes that smile, but. hang on! it feels like he's undersold what he meant, which was: ]

So say it now. I want --

[ he's got stuff to do, and it probably means he can't spend every night here, but. he's running himself ragged with the way he has things working -- catching scant sleep wherever he can find it, eating just enough to keep him going but not enough to keep the meat on his bones. he missteps when he's run down; too exhausted to see snares closing around him like the one that yuma set for him. ]

... I mean, a palace is a pretty badass home base.

[ oh

Oh!!!

Pagan laughs. Big, bright laughter, born of joy - and yes, a little surprise, because he'd been so prepared for a no that he genuinely missed what Ajay was offering. So he squeezes Ajay right back, tight and warm, and he'd really better hope what Ajay has isn't contagious because he's getting another kiss. A big, loud smack of a thing, right on the lips. ]

Welcome home, Ajay. Welcome home.

[ there! that's better.

and pagan's reaction is so genuinely delighted that ajay can't help but echo back that laugh. grinning, and god, he can't resist stealing another kiss just because of how good that sounds. it makes him feel more than a little silly about being so hesitant about the idea before -- when it's like this, where's the downside? ]

You're right. It sounds good.

Good. Good.

[ God, he's so content. For all his offering the palace as Ajay's home it's been a long time since it felt that way for Pagan himself, but now it does. Sharing a bed, puttering around the kitchen, and now knowing that it's going to keep happening -

and good god, the boy hasn't even touched his dick yet. Yuma would tease him mercilessly, if it wasn't guaranteed to make her even more furious. ]

It's a bloody good thing I've never been one for tradition. We certainly seem to be making this up as we go along, hmm?

I'm pretty sure we ditched tradition awhile ago.

[ somewhere around the time pagan min and his mom --

... okay, nah. not touching that one! ]

But we're rebels. [ he's grinning as it says it, planting an open-mouthed kiss to one of pagan's collarbones and lingering until he's sucked a little mark to the surface of his skin. ] Right?

You're a rebel. As much as it pains me to admit it, I - ah - [ excuse him, but that is just delicious, and he's definitely going to blame how overly exciting things have been in the last few days if Ajay notices that just that is enough to start Pagan thickening in his pajama pants ]

- I believe I am The Establishment.

[ fortunately, the way they're cuddled up isn't enough for ajay to start noticing. yet. ]

Oh. [ thoughtful. ] Awesome.

[ and if pagan gets any warning for the terrible thing that's about to come out of ajay's mouth, it's because ajay sounds so pleased with himself. ]

I've always wanted to stick it to the actual man.

[ what

oh, dear lord. Pagan sputters for a moment, and then gives in to laughter despite himself. ]

Ajay, my boy, that was terrible. Truly appalling. You're going to have to be a lot more delicate about it if you're planning on teaching this old dog that particular new trick.

[ if he feels bad at all for that particular line, it's not showing. at all. ]

What are you requesting? Rose petals? Champagne? Celine Dion?

[ Lord have mercy. ]

I am, in fact, specifically requesting no Celine Dion. If my asshole's going to take a battering the least you can do is spare my ears.

[ his laugh is a low thing, as low as the lazy fingers he skirts up pagan's side. ]

Is that a yes on the champagne and rose petals? Noted.

pray i pray come back to me

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

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)