Enrion Varanil: (Enrion hasn't moved. He barely blinks, his eyes fixed on Destro's, his entire bearing tense. This should feel...comforting. This should be sparking something inside him, deep twists of nervous pleasure, upwellings of hope.)
Enrion Varanil: (Instead, it all feels...lukewarm. Oh, not the apology. Not Destro's distress. But 'I care for you' and. "It is not well". He could mark it up to the thought that Destro isn't demonstrative, except he responded to Enrion's presence by slinging a knife across the room.)
Enrion Varanil: (He responded to another man advancing on Enrion by slitting his throat.)
Enrion Varanil: (...He could say so earnestly and simply that he didn't love Enrion.)
Enrion Varanil: (He knows Destro is capable of shattering everything he knows and understands. And in the face of 'I care for you', he feels...(hopeless) (disappointed) as though maybe. Maybe there's something he let slip away. Maybe if he'd seen it sooner, encouraged it, or.)
Enrion Varanil: (Maybe something. Maybe anything.)
Enrion Varanil: (He considers prodding that comment about vulnerability - asking him if he thinks. If he really thinks that anything Enrion could do with 'vulnerabilities' would be worse than what's happened. If it could be worse than living without Enrion, the way Enrion is living without Destro.)
Enrion Varanil: ((What does any of this matter, though.) (He's not staying.) (Except Destro said he spoke to his brother.) (There are things he saying, amends he tried to make.) )
Enrion Varanil: (He lets the silence stretch out and out, then reaches up and hesitates, then removes first the mask, then the hood he wears.)
Enrion Varanil: (And cautiously - perhaps toeing the knife a little farther away from them both as he goes - he approaches the other man. (It takes too much to think about why. It takes too much when Destro is everything he wanted to know.))
Enrion Varanil: (Everything he wants to know, still.)
Enrion Varanil: (He doesn't reach out. He could. He could touch his fingertips to Destro's chin and force his eyes to hold, and overcome him (because he can, and he has before))
Enrion Varanil: (Instead. Instead he kneels down at Destro's feet, and turns his face up, supplicating. (Adoring. He was only ever adoring. And he wants -) (Love. He wants to be loved back.))
Enrion Varanil: (Softly, and steadily, and unfrightened:)
Enrion Varanil: This is vulnerability. You could cut my throat and I would bleed happily for you. You praise me and my world glows. You show disappointment and I want to die. That's what vulnerability is. I gave it to you /because/ I love you.
Enrion Varanil: (He breathes in, then sighs, his eyes drifting for a beat. And he refocuses, letting Destro see his hope, and his misery, and his longing.) You know better words than 'I care for you'. Make me stay with you.
Enrion Varanil: (And.)
Enrion Varanil: Make me want to stay with you, Destro.
Enrion Varanil: Or give me my ring back.

Destro Rubeno: (his first thought, when the room is still and the boy holds silent, distant: it isn't enough, what he's said. (and how could he ever say enough. he'd tried. he's... reaching. for something. and it isn't enough.) which reeks of loss and wraps nausea through his veins. which grips his head in roiling pain.)
Destro Rubeno: (but the boy.)
Destro Rubeno: (oh, the boy. removes his mask. (that soft strength of his jaw, the lips he's seen lit by brilliant smiles, uncomplicated pleasure. (the hair, clean. combed. the boy looks... oh, collected, even in unheaval.)
Destro Rubeno: (and destro thinks, if nothing else, it's one more clear-struck sight to hold.)
Destro Rubeno: (and destro looks... stricken by the image. help rapt and breathless, eyes unguarded, unsure of what to know in this moment uncertain of himself, but grateful, but wanting, but thinking, if he can only find a way to stop the loss.)
Destro Rubeno: (he's wrought such damage.) (he's always been so capable of damage.) (ridding himself of what he doesn't want, and how, now, does he learn to keep hold?)
Destro Rubeno: (enrion is telling him. in those unveiled flickers of expression (the boy is deeply, intensely expressive; clear in his meaning, his smiles his frowns his well-placed words.)
Destro Rubeno: (enrion is before him, near and unreachable, or--)
Destro Rubeno: (not, unreachable.)
Destro Rubeno: (this, an offering of nearness. this, a sign of... of.)
Destro Rubeno: (it hasn't, maybe, been lost yet. the boy is here, and waiting. (the boy combed out his hair and came here.) (the boy approached, and knelt, is kneeling, is near.))
Destro Rubeno: (destro's head aches and his chest hums agony. destro's pulse races irreconcible, and yet. the boy has spoken. and yet. there are words yet to say, and--)
Destro Rubeno: enrion.
Destro Rubeno: (his voice soft now, steadier than anticipated.)
Destro Rubeno: (and his hand drifts to the boy's hair, unplanned. (and he thinks. he should flinch. he should cut off his offending hand before he dares to touch the boy.) and he settles in that soft, the gold, unflinching. shifts his thumb, careful, light, along the boy's skull.)
Destro Rubeno: (it helps. it anchors him, somewhat. tells his being the boy is here, truly. this. this is irrefutable proof, and his chest loosens with each near-caress (is-caress), and it's easier, a little, to look at the boy, and feel the world around him (the world defined by and centered in this boy's presence; the world turned hushed because the boy's returned... if only for a moment.) (or.) (no.) (not. only for a moment.)
Destro Rubeno: (that sound; the boy responsive to his touch. and destro's lip flickers, sign of sorrow and of wanting, sign of... it's too much to hope. but. perhaps.)
Destro Rubeno: (that minute and that momentous nearing. the boy's head tilted slightly toward his hand, and destro's hand shifts in kind to pressure a little closer. to press, and allow his fingers to caress. careful, catching at his lungs.)
Destro Rubeno: puppy. my puppy. (a near-hesitation, near silence because he doesn't know if he can say or ought to say these words, but before thought before worry can settle in, he's speaking, drawing the boy's head perhaps a little nearer to him, curling his wrist, his arm, to wrap closer around the boy's head.)
Destro Rubeno: do you think you haven't had my vulnerability? imperfect, perhaps incomplete, but you must know... i've bared my throat before you. stretched my wrists before your knife, knowing or not.
Destro Rubeno: i don't say i haven't erred.
Destro Rubeno: or that i've been... the lover you deserve.
Destro Rubeno: puppy.
Destro Rubeno: my enri.
Destro Rubeno: (his free hand has found enrion's jaw, enrion's cheek. has brushed back a few strands of carefully-kept hair.)
Destro Rubeno: ((he missed, oh he missed, this touch.))
Destro Rubeno: ((his hand at the boy's cheek, and enrion welcoming.))

Enrion Varanil: (At that word. Not 'puppy', not 'Enrion', but at 'Enri', his breath shudders out of him in a rush, in a silent cry, and he winds his arms around Destro's waist. It's not over - he'll keep listening. But he missed it. He missed this so much, it felt like dying.)

Destro Rubeno: (he sinks into that hold. sinks to his own knees, drawing enrion further with him, if he can. wanting, needing to wrap his own arms around the boy. needing to feel him closer, all space between them vanquished.)
Destro Rubeno: (it's instinctive; he can't keep away from that hold. can't help but fall and fold into it, try to keep the boy to himself. (if he holds close enough, maybe enrion won't vanish.) (or. if he holds close enough, he may find the way to speak, to say and show his meaning.))
Destro Rubeno: (and he whispers, soft, his head pressed against enrion's, 'enri' and 'my enri' and 'i'm sorry, i've missed you, my enri.')
Destro Rubeno: (until he can speak again, more clearly. head too warm skull pressed with burning. until he speaks, hand running through the boy's hair--)
Destro Rubeno: my enri. you are all the adoration i have known. all of the fondness i possess, the voice to every longing and the seat of all my love.
Destro Rubeno: puppy. my enri. (one hand shifts again to enrion's cheek, thumb brushing careful, eyes searching the boy's. eyes worried and hopeful and trying, trying not to hide in shades evasive.)
Destro Rubeno: i do... i might wish i were more familiar with words. with the language i'd like to use in speaking to you, and speaking of you.
Destro Rubeno: i should never have taken this long.
Destro Rubeno: and. at the same time. it is... not without significance that i've learned, that i am learning this speaking from you. through you. for you.
Destro Rubeno: puppy.
Destro Rubeno: (hand holding the boy's jaw, thumb tracing gentle along its course)
Destro Rubeno: my enri, i do love you.
Destro Rubeno: beyond any depths i suspected in myself. beyond capacities i knew myself to hold, or understand in the least...
Destro Rubeno: i adore you, puppy.
Destro Rubeno: my darling boy.
Destro Rubeno: (and, if he can, he's going to kiss that enri on the goddamn lips, lingering for a moment, and another)
Destro Rubeno: my enri.

Enrion Varanil: (He missed this. His missed Destro, so much that being here in his arms, both of them driven to their knees (equitable) is like the first breath of air, the first taste of food. Not after anything at all. The very first there ever was. He's too stunned, too overcome to do more than stare, wide-eyed, letting each word sink into him one by one -
Enrion Varanil: his expression a complex shift of emotion: agony and desperate yearning, rapture and the faint promises of a smile. (It's been so long.) (It's been a few weeks, and a few weeks is forever without this man.) (Lonely and directionless and colorless.))
Enrion Varanil: (And he's speaking, as if all he needed was to be reminded what he was trying to save. (Or maybe. Maybe he was scared.) (Maybe he was lost, and Enrion helped him find his way back.) The thumb along his jaw leaves tingling warmth in its wake, a blush burning up through his cheeks and down his throat. His lips part, and then tug to a lopsided helpless almost-smile, a huffed laugh that has nothing to do with humor (a laugh he's given before, late at night when they lay in one another's arms, or when he kneels at Destro's feet; evidence of thrill, evidence that Destro has touched him deeply and intimately.))
Enrion Varanil: (And the words come. He knew they would come, and he knows he never really doubted Destro loves him. The satisfaction of a missing puzzle piece found and placedshows how well Enrion guessed.
Enrion Varanil: (He could cry, could bury his head against Destro's neck and sob his heart out, grateful to be (home) here, grateful to have heard - grateful that it was Destro who said those words first to him, of all the people in the world.)
Enrion Varanil: (Instead, Destro kisses him, and Enrion goes still, one shattered breath barely passing his lips, his eyes closed with - euphoria. Ecstasy. This is home, this is what it is to come home and be loved and be /certain/ of both home and love.)
Enrion Varanil: (And to be kissed sweetly by the one who is, provides, embodies home and love. His hand covers Destro's, a plea for him to stay while words fail Enrion, to kiss him again--
Enrion Varanil: Enrion's heart is a rush in his ears, his pulse a tremor through his fingertips and every unmoving part of his body. And words come against Destro's lips, sighed and prayerful.)
Enrion Varanil: I missed you so much. I missed you every minute, even in my sleep. I'll stay. I can't stay away from you.
Enrion Varanil: (And.)
Enrion Varanil: I love you, Destro. My Destro. Let me stay. Keep me.

Destro Rubeno: (he couldn't have dreamt this. he couldn't have conjured this moment in wishing, and he finds himself undone again, again, again, pressing into that kiss and wrapping closer around enrion, his enri, his enri again.)
Destro Rubeno: (and he doesn't doubt a word. knows better than to doubt a thing this boy says or does; there is no one and nothing truer than enrion. there is nothing and no one destro would trust better, or anything like. (and what hasn't this boy done to win that trust a thousand times over? enrion is worth everything.)
Destro Rubeno: you'll stay.
Destro Rubeno: enrion. my enri. my love. (another kiss, this to the forehead, and after, destro leans his head against enrion's humming a sound of relief and weeks-long-strangled grieving, of adoration, or a world brought back to place.))
Destro Rubeno: stay with me.
Destro Rubeno: for always.
Destro Rubeno: freely. openly.
Destro Rubeno: stay with me, my home.

Enrion Varanil: (He knew how much he missed Destro. All the longing, the restless and unending days turning into restless and unending nights. He loathed his own homesickness, and hated Destro for his lie (whatever it might have been), but he never denied how much he missed it. He knew he would always belong to Destro. What he hadn't considered was how much (or even IF) Destro missed him in return. He didn't think of the impact of his absence, knowing only that he needed to be gone.)
Enrion Varanil: (He knows now. He hears the aching sound that matches almost exactly the noise he made when Destro's hand met his head, the first touch after separation. He knows that sound for what it is, and doesn't doubt anything Destro says now. Here.)
Enrion Varanil: (But. (Hard to shake off the haze, hard to swim to the surface from this sudden tide of pleasure, to stop his hands from caressing and keep himself from lunging forward to kiss again, and again.) But it's not done, the talking isn't. Over. Because if Destro loves him, then there's another truth about the words that parted them.)
Enrion Varanil: (Before he'll say 'yes'.)
Enrion Varanil: (He reaches up to caress Destro's cheek, his forehead nudging the other man's. Still here. Still here.)
Enrion Varanil: I'm not a secret.
Enrion Varanil: Not from anyone, ever. I'm not something you hide. You don't have to be proud of me, but you can't be ashamed, either. Promise me.