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USERNAME: unsafety netzach library of ruina TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO • ACTION • OVERFLOW

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[ Reasoning that Netzach has done his part — not only today — comes easily, which must be damning. It doesn't cross Yesod's mind to tell him to minimize all clutter or anything of the sort; every sign of Netzach's presence became reassuring over time, around the apartment, and this room, intentionally and equally theirs, should allow Netzach to make himself fully comfortable and think of it as belonging to him, a place to which going home might apply. It should be shaped by his presence, too.

Yesod's own expression reflects something of the look that Netzach is wearing, softer until he blinks, finally setting the shirt aside. ]

...I was considering following your example.

[ And with that, he approaches to take a seat on the bed beside Netzach, where he stretches one hand out after a moment, fingertips brushing across Netzach's hair, near his temple. ]

Or rather, you've made the idea seem appealing.

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C'mere then.

[netzach shifts to make room as he sits, head tilting into the brush of yesod's hand, the skim of his fingers. he reaches out so much more often, now, netzach's noticed, and his heart's warmer for it; this is something yesod has taken up for him. he never had to ask. yesod simply noticed he enjoyed it and has been keeping it up ever since.

after he's settled, netzach moves once again, this time to use yesod as a pillow and rest his head in his lap. he wriggles to turn and lie on his back, looking up at him, hair loose and draping over yesod's leg in a soft waterfall of green.]

...hey. Welcome home.

[quiet, soft. that's what this is now-- not a space someone else had that he's inserted himself into, like with roland's couch and then yesod's bed. they found a bed sized for both of them. added a closet so netzach's heap of clothes won't get in the way of yesod's organized hangers, but they can still share. netzach's favorite pillow is on his side of the bed, yesod's from his apartment on the other. (they both smell a bit like netzach's wisteria shampoo, considering how often he curls into yesod's pillow after he's vacated the bed.)

the apartment's a home for them as a group, but this part of it is undeniably just theirs.]

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[ The way Netzach responds, leaning into his touch, never ceases to spark an odd sense of wonderment mingled with satisfaction. It makes it too tempting to indulge in it at every opportunity — and it has come to feel just as gratifying that Netzach seeks out this closeness as if it's second nature by now, resting against him without hesitation. It's proof that Netzach no longer perceives unseen barriers between them, things to approach with considerate caution for fear that he might react badly to any contact that he hasn't initiated himself. It seems safe to conclude that Netzach is at ease, that all of it is mutually pleasurable.

And it may have been tempting to compare Netzach to a cat whenever he claims Yesod's lap as his pillow, but his murmured words soon fill the forefront of Yesod's thoughts instead. He's silent at first, fingers stilling in Netzach's hair; his rib cage feels too tight for some rising emotion aching within his chest.

Home, despite everything. For the moment, he places the future and its uncertainty aside like that shirt, and he focuses on Netzach's features, the fond warmth there. ]

...Yes. Welcome home, Netzach. I...

[ Knowing Netzach, it's unnecessary to state certain things aloud — such sentiments are undoubtedly communicated clearly in other ways on a regular basis now, be it thinking him beautiful or appreciating his company, wanting him, loving him. Still, he has prompted Yesod to speak of these things before. Perhaps he would like to hear them, then, and to remember these moments. ]

I love you.