[his life without his memories, real memories, had been good. picture perfect good. a father that loved him and a girlfriend he was devoted to and a sports team that thought he was the best, and he felt the best, too. he felt like he had the world in the palm of his hand. when the month ends and reality hits like the worst kind of stack of bricks he's ever felt in his life, he remembers a truth that has stuck throughout each timeline: he has nat.
he feels older. he recalls how his father-not-father, homelander, had steadied his confidence his entire upbringing and taught him how to be the best person he could be. how he has the capability to use those traits now, even if what he went through was a cultivated, manipulated life. he has those traits inside of him.
nat is taken by the hand. drawn in between his legs where he sits in the loveseat by the window so he can look up at her and her look down at him, so the sun catches her faces and gleams in her eyes.]
Can I ask you something I should've asked you a really long time ago?
( murmured more than said, implying the exact opposite of her words. she is here, present — but she's also somewhere closer than that, soaking in travis' attention, memorizing the new freckles on his nose the sun decided to pull out from hiding. she loves trav in the summertime — loves the quiet stability of somewhere warm to be, loves the sound of vibrating cicadas and rustling leaves somewhere far in the distance, everything suntouched and alive. even and especially travis himself, who seems more lively in the time following the weird month — as opposed to nat, who's just
at least glad that if the searing shit pile of her life is permanent in every different world she might live in, at least one good thing found in travis is perpetual too. she extends one of her hands from his hold, cupping his cheek, feeling about a decade older than she is. confident, somehow, that girls her age don't feel about boys the way she feels about travis. forever feelings. the confidence in the goodness of them. she gives him a smile, playful. )
[being sweet. being optimistic instead of groveling, aching for a home that wants to regurgitate their parts for the beast that makes up their stomachs and hardened hearts. travis survived as best he could, and nat, the smartest out of all of them, saved their lives. he wants to save her heart. he stares into the blue of her eyes with the same sort of adoration one would give a holy figure.
no, that's not right. that doesn't quite apply to him the more he looks at her. she's everything. everything is touching his face and delicately smiling one of her perfect smiles. he continues his sweetness, remembers romeo and juliet and decides this is their own story and brings her hand to his lips to kiss the back of her fingers.]
( she scrunches her nose to the side, shaking her head. ) Nah. I like when you're sweet.
( it could be her favorite thing about him, that trav is kind where he could be cruel, generous where he could portion himself out. she's knows it's a learned softness, that he wasn't always like this — that every time he's vulnerable with her, he's trying. pushing away the same hard earned instincts that nat has, to be dismissive and distant and dark, to keep yourself alone so no one can ever leave you. trav is better at putting it aside and pushing forward, and when he's like this nat is almost hypnotized by him, treasuring his feelings as much as she would shiny, golden coins.
she can feel the way her heart ricochets in her chest once her brain plays catch up, fingers tingly and warm where trav has kissed them. there are the same concerns she ever has, that she's not good enough for travis, that he deserves someone better at — everything. being soft with him, being kind, knowing when to ask for help, knowing how to do it. but it isn't newly tread ground, it's all that trav is already aware of, that nat loves him so much she can't exist without him. there's no real mystery for her to hide behind — the wilderness made them the very opposite of strangers. )
All I want, ( spoken softly, her fingers sliding through his hair, tucking behind his ear. he's probably due for another cut soon. nat's eyes are as emotive and wet as ever, but she cracks another watery smile, bumping her thigh into his knee. ) is to make you as happy and loved as possible. So — yes. There's nobody else for me. ( she tilts his head up, stepping in as close as she can, so his chin can rest on her stomach. ) Will you be my boyfriend?
[nat is the only person who keeps him sweet. homelander is the one who taught him the balance he so obviously lacked, to take initiative instead of letting someone else do it. nat would never have done this, he thinks, because he can tell she doesn't think she's good enough. if he's being true to himself, he doesn't think he's good enough, either, but he's trying to be. being someone nat can rely wholeheartedly, and not just because he's devoted to her, or because he's learned to survive in those woods with them, but because he really would do anything.]
Really?
[surprise – and relief – washes over him. he blinks up at her, head tilting, then kisses her chest. nat is so beautiful and fun and when he'd first met her, her girlish flirtatious energy shone through her grunge-tough exterior. he thought for sure she'd have – something. someone. that doesn't really matter, he wants to see her smile more. laugh more.]
Yes, obviously. There's no one I'd rather be with.
[and he wraps his arms around her waist like he'd see them do in the movies and stands up with her pressed against him, lifting her off the floor for an elated squeeze, one hand catching her thigh when he begins to lower her down. he kisses her then, held up in his grasp, smiling for every watery hiccup he's sure will leave her throat.]
( it's a wet kiss, because nat doesn't know how to handle rushes of emotion with anything other than tears — at this point, it's par for the course, gasping against travis' mouth and snagging her legs around his waist, ankles locking them together. she grins too, until it's more like their smiles pressing than an actual shared kiss between them, like her muscles won't cooperate to deepen it any further when she's this happy, as happy as she can remember being in recent times. lame, that she has to be covered in tears during it, because no one ever taught her how to just be giddy.
she shoves at his shoulder a little, though it's not with any bite — just affection, getting barely enough space between them to lift up the collar of her (his, probably, but currently on her shoulders) shirt, hiding her face in the fabric. )
Stop, stop, don't look at me! I'm all ( she snuffles meaningfully. ) wet. Wet-faced. You're gonna take it back if you see me. ( big eyes peer out from the collar, nose and mouth still covered. ) Actually, I call no takebacks.
[travis has seen nat worse and loved her. from the moment he chased her around the trees, both of them high off attention and affection and giddy with innocence, to standing guard outside of coach ben's tent in the summer, heat of the candle burning at both ends, jaw so tense he remembers it being sore the next day, he has never loved anyone more. nat does what he never could, and now she is his to look after and protect. he'll do what she needs. be who she needs.]
Oh my god, Nat, [exaggerated exasperation with an accompanied eye roll, his own kind of affection, rising up from the time before the plane crashed and all humor slowly fizzled out. less teasing and entirely fond,] You really don't know how much I love you.
[in his triumphant teenage boy heart, he believes this is what love is. her legs around his waist and relaxed in his arms, since she knows he'd never drop her. he's let her down in a lot of ways, he knows he has. sometimes he wavers on whether he deserves her, usually the bad side of him wins. but he refuses to take the backseat and press autopilot for complacency, and nat would die without him the same as he'd die without her.]
You are so stuck with me.
[will they have even a modicum of this type of love for each other when they return, go back to school, face the world as they have never faced it before? travis doesn't like to think about it. he'll cherish these moments with her the best he can, leaning in to nip playfully at the collar she's doing a very bad job at covering her face with.]
Dry-faced, wet-faced, I don't care. I'll start carrying tissues if I have to.
[(which he does in the future, always in the right back pocket of his pants).]
( she does spare the moment to wipe one of her eyes on the inside of her shirt — a lazy effort, given that the other one is watery still, but that's all she has in her before the shirt falls back on her chest, fingers reaching out to push back travis' bangs. he is literally the most handsome man she's ever seen — because he's earnest and soft, because there's no lingering lie in his eyes when he says things like you're so stuck with me, as if anyone's ever wanted natalie stuck on them. there's a definite gum-on-shoe quality to her, more of a nuisance than something complimentary, an accessory, something to carry around, to show off, to protect as precious. that's how she feels, exchanging glances between each of travis' eyes, cuddled in his big arms. precious, looked at, looked after, kept close.
he'll start carrying tissues if he has to. and he does, if he intends to keep being this good to her. )
You're a dork.
( said in the same tone as i love you, i love you, i love you, nat's hand cupping his cheek and drawing herself back into him, mouth slack and pressed against his, a needier kiss with more intention behind it. it doesn't take a lot to have sex on the mind — less, when he's being strong and kind, and nat has little else on her mind than kissing him silly, sighs pouring into his mouth, her tongue licking across his teeth. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action. idk some nebulous time after regain but before fire
he feels older. he recalls how his father-not-father, homelander, had steadied his confidence his entire upbringing and taught him how to be the best person he could be. how he has the capability to use those traits now, even if what he went through was a cultivated, manipulated life. he has those traits inside of him.
nat is taken by the hand. drawn in between his legs where he sits in the loveseat by the window so he can look up at her and her look down at him, so the sun catches her faces and gleams in her eyes.]
Can I ask you something I should've asked you a really long time ago?
no subject
( murmured more than said, implying the exact opposite of her words. she is here, present — but she's also somewhere closer than that, soaking in travis' attention, memorizing the new freckles on his nose the sun decided to pull out from hiding. she loves trav in the summertime — loves the quiet stability of somewhere warm to be, loves the sound of vibrating cicadas and rustling leaves somewhere far in the distance, everything suntouched and alive. even and especially travis himself, who seems more lively in the time following the weird month — as opposed to nat, who's just
at least glad that if the searing shit pile of her life is permanent in every different world she might live in, at least one good thing found in travis is perpetual too. she extends one of her hands from his hold, cupping his cheek, feeling about a decade older than she is. confident, somehow, that girls her age don't feel about boys the way she feels about travis. forever feelings. the confidence in the goodness of them. she gives him a smile, playful. )
Are you about to be really sweet?
no subject
[being sweet. being optimistic instead of groveling, aching for a home that wants to regurgitate their parts for the beast that makes up their stomachs and hardened hearts. travis survived as best he could, and nat, the smartest out of all of them, saved their lives. he wants to save her heart. he stares into the blue of her eyes with the same sort of adoration one would give a holy figure.
no, that's not right. that doesn't quite apply to him the more he looks at her. she's everything. everything is touching his face and delicately smiling one of her perfect smiles. he continues his sweetness, remembers romeo and juliet and decides this is their own story and brings her hand to his lips to kiss the back of her fingers.]
Will you be my girlfriend?
no subject
( it could be her favorite thing about him, that trav is kind where he could be cruel, generous where he could portion himself out. she's knows it's a learned softness, that he wasn't always like this — that every time he's vulnerable with her, he's trying. pushing away the same hard earned instincts that nat has, to be dismissive and distant and dark, to keep yourself alone so no one can ever leave you. trav is better at putting it aside and pushing forward, and when he's like this nat is almost hypnotized by him, treasuring his feelings as much as she would shiny, golden coins.
she can feel the way her heart ricochets in her chest once her brain plays catch up, fingers tingly and warm where trav has kissed them. there are the same concerns she ever has, that she's not good enough for travis, that he deserves someone better at — everything. being soft with him, being kind, knowing when to ask for help, knowing how to do it. but it isn't newly tread ground, it's all that trav is already aware of, that nat loves him so much she can't exist without him. there's no real mystery for her to hide behind — the wilderness made them the very opposite of strangers. )
All I want, ( spoken softly, her fingers sliding through his hair, tucking behind his ear. he's probably due for another cut soon. nat's eyes are as emotive and wet as ever, but she cracks another watery smile, bumping her thigh into his knee. ) is to make you as happy and loved as possible. So — yes. There's nobody else for me. ( she tilts his head up, stepping in as close as she can, so his chin can rest on her stomach. ) Will you be my boyfriend?
no subject
Really?
[surprise – and relief – washes over him. he blinks up at her, head tilting, then kisses her chest. nat is so beautiful and fun and when he'd first met her, her girlish flirtatious energy shone through her grunge-tough exterior. he thought for sure she'd have – something. someone. that doesn't really matter, he wants to see her smile more. laugh more.]
Yes, obviously. There's no one I'd rather be with.
[and he wraps his arms around her waist like he'd see them do in the movies and stands up with her pressed against him, lifting her off the floor for an elated squeeze, one hand catching her thigh when he begins to lower her down. he kisses her then, held up in his grasp, smiling for every watery hiccup he's sure will leave her throat.]
no subject
she shoves at his shoulder a little, though it's not with any bite — just affection, getting barely enough space between them to lift up the collar of her (his, probably, but currently on her shoulders) shirt, hiding her face in the fabric. )
Stop, stop, don't look at me! I'm all ( she snuffles meaningfully. ) wet. Wet-faced. You're gonna take it back if you see me. ( big eyes peer out from the collar, nose and mouth still covered. ) Actually, I call no takebacks.
no subject
Oh my god, Nat, [exaggerated exasperation with an accompanied eye roll, his own kind of affection, rising up from the time before the plane crashed and all humor slowly fizzled out. less teasing and entirely fond,] You really don't know how much I love you.
[in his triumphant teenage boy heart, he believes this is what love is. her legs around his waist and relaxed in his arms, since she knows he'd never drop her. he's let her down in a lot of ways, he knows he has. sometimes he wavers on whether he deserves her, usually the bad side of him wins. but he refuses to take the backseat and press autopilot for complacency, and nat would die without him the same as he'd die without her.]
You are so stuck with me.
[will they have even a modicum of this type of love for each other when they return, go back to school, face the world as they have never faced it before? travis doesn't like to think about it. he'll cherish these moments with her the best he can, leaning in to nip playfully at the collar she's doing a very bad job at covering her face with.]
Dry-faced, wet-faced, I don't care. I'll start carrying tissues if I have to.
[(which he does in the future, always in the right back pocket of his pants).]
no subject
he'll start carrying tissues if he has to. and he does, if he intends to keep being this good to her. )
You're a dork.
( said in the same tone as i love you, i love you, i love you, nat's hand cupping his cheek and drawing herself back into him, mouth slack and pressed against his, a needier kiss with more intention behind it. it doesn't take a lot to have sex on the mind — less, when he's being strong and kind, and nat has little else on her mind than kissing him silly, sighs pouring into his mouth, her tongue licking across his teeth. )