nonscriptum: if you put a vegetable on there, so help me God (I'll have one meat lovers pizza please)
𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚎 ([personal profile] nonscriptum) wrote2019-12-08 12:08 am
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@nathan.drake| ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

wittingly: (I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-28 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
I'm sorry you have imprecise hamfists
Some of the rest of us have finesse
wittingly: (Cᴏᴍᴇ ғʟᴀɪʟɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-28 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
Alright, alright, I'm sorry
imprecise non-dexterous regular fists

besides, there's a tactic
it's an easy artform to master
I'll teach you
wittingly: (Iғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴜᴘᴏɴ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-28 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
I'll finesse you after dinner too
wittingly: (Wʜᴀᴛ ɪғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ғᴀɴᴛᴀsɪᴇs)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-28 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
be careful
no mark david chapmans
wittingly: (sᴏᴀᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʙʟᴇᴀᴄʜ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-28 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He says it like it's a joke, but it's really not. He's been around for some of the horror stories -- at least, the ones Nate's told him. Obviously he can handle himself, that's part of what he does for a living, but that doesn't make Ian any less worried.

He's in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a spatula in hand and flour on his shirt, the remains of measuring cups and spoons adorning the counter beside him because the man's precise as hell about his cooking. Music is playing because it always is, because Ian is predictable. ]


We don't want any.

[ Called out wryly, without abandoning the eggs. Classic dad joke, and why he has that trait when he isn't nor has he ever had a dad is beyond anyone's comprehension. ]
wittingly: (Cᴏᴍᴇ ғʟᴀɪʟɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-29 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ You better believe his damn pancakes are perfectly circular. If he's going to engineer chaos, it's going to be the most controlled chaos you've ever seen.

Fortunately spatula duty only takes one hand, so the other's free to drop down and settle over Nate's arm at his waist. With it, the gentle settling back into the body behind him and the almost-turn of his head to catch a glance at him out of the corner of his eye. ]


Hi. Listen. Before you say anything... That was not my fault.

[ Followed by a pointed look over at a plate beside the stove.

Atrocities like that don't happen in waffle irons. ]
wittingly: (A sᴏᴀᴘ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴡɪғᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʜᴇ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-29 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
I feel like I'm gonna step out of the shower at midnight sometime and see that thing looking at me through the mirror.

[ Dryly, but it's hard to be anything but warm and amused during moments like this. It's easy for other people to take shit like this for granted, probably. Easy not to appreciate it while it's happening. Funny how watching your partner voluntarily engage in a battle to the fucking death every so often helps keep things in perspective.

He nudges Nate's temple a little with his own. ]


How was work? What was work?

[ There's probably a schedule somewhere around there that marks down what dates are parties and what dates are photoshoots and what dates are filming and whatever the fuck else they have him doing, but with Sam at the wheel it feels less urgent to keep track of it day to day. ]
wittingly: (Oɴʟʏ ғᴏᴏʟs ʀᴜsʜ ɪɴ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-29 04:52 am (UTC)(link)
Speedos?

[ He guesses innocently, though there's no completely eradicating the humor. You have to laugh about these things or you go fucking insane. There's a nice long list of former victors turned celebs that have committed suicide. They always paint it as caused by something else — a broken heart, an addiction. Anything but the glamorous lifestyle everyone should be working themselves to the bone to attain. Celebrity status is one of the few things that makes the system tolerable enough to slog forever onward.

Absently, murmured before Nate can answer— ]


Check it out.

[ Spatula goes down in favor of gently gripping the handle of his pancake pan and.

Little wiggle, tiny shake.

Flip. ]


Ehh??

[ Good right?? Sorry, go on about your speedos. ]
wittingly: (Wʜᴀᴛ ɪғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ғᴀɴᴛᴀsɪᴇs)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-29 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's not like there's an imbalance in that need. It's a fucking joke to think Ian would have ever recovered after his quarry if it weren't for Nate. Not that they were immediately attached at the hip, but that first night they met could have set him down an entirely different path. The next six months of press coverage, tours, fuck the next year of working for the company and trying to reconcile that within himself...

It could've been worse. It would have been worse. ]


Sounds like a blast. Real riveting stuff.

[ Mused knowingly; boring the shit out of him is one of the lasting tortures the company has left at their disposal.

The pan goes back down, the burner goes off, and at some point in between he's started swaying without even realizing it. ]


I wonder if they're gonna include that when they get around to ghost-writing your autobiography.
wittingly: (Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-29 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Nate's afraid about that kind of complacency, but that's one of the few things Ian's not worried about. He can't ever imagine Nate falling into that hole, so big a piece of his personality as it is. Besides that, intellectual stimulation might be one of the only things he's good for.

The other is pancakes.

He hums, then detaches just lightly enough that he can turn in Nate's arms to face him. He winds his own arms around Nate's shoulders, that absent sway never really faltering. ]


What sound? I don't make a sound.
wittingly: (Oɴʟʏ ғᴏᴏʟs ʀᴜsʜ ɪɴ)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-30 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ How dare you accurately accuse him of angling for something? He would never compromise his integrity.

Another soft and absent hum from the back of his throat, and he dips in to press a small kiss to Nate's jaw. And then another, and then another slightly higher. ]


It would be a crying shame.

[ He agrees conversationally into Nate's neck. ]

After all that work I put into making it terrifying.
wittingly: (I ᴡᴀs ғɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs sɪx)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-30 04:27 am (UTC)(link)
You told me to finesse you during.

[ Pointed out with the unapologetic audacity of a smug man pleased with his handiwork. It's nothing all that pornographic really, just gentle and slightly open-mouthed kisses beneath his ear, down his neck.

But hey, far be it from him to ignore that protest.

He breaks away after a few seconds, arms dropping down, probably looking annoyingly amused. ]


Be free, majestic unicorn from the cereal commercials. Go get a plate.
wittingly: (Cᴏʟᴅ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ?)

[personal profile] wittingly 2020-11-30 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
You're welcome.

[ Less smug, more sincere.

He knows which of the two of them has it worse. Contrary to whatever he'd been trying to say that first night they met, Nate's got the shit end of the stick. Ian goes to work every day in a quiet place doing what he studied to do — granted, he has to reconcile the people he gets fucking killed with his work, but this is life. This is what it is. You don't spit in the face of the gifts you're given from on-high, because turning that down is disrespect. Disrespect is tantamount to death. But at least he has his privacy, and more freedom than Nate ever really will.

Nate's trapped under a microscope, and as if that weren't enough he gets the joy of getting thrust back into the quarry whenever his popularity wanes too much. He gets to periodically relive it all, risk his life, refresh the blood on his hands.

So yeah, Ian will make him fucking breakfast for dinner, and he'll make pancakes instead of waffles, and if he could find any other way to make the world a little softer he'd do that, too.

Like eating side by side in the living room floor, plates on the coffee table, shoulders touching while he subjects Nate to running commentary on something neither of them are really watching. ]

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