Nothing Feels That Real Without You // {Embryze}

for what it's worth, I have a slow disease that sucked me dry... I always aim to please
but I nearly died

It was a mess. He knew that; he wasn't blind. And yet. Mace was pretty sure he was getting closer to this whole 'domestic' nonsense. It was pretty much the only hands on thing that Two allowed. Everything else what regimented, done by factories far away or Avoxes too close for comfort. He hadn't ever been a chef, ripred knows, but throwing the ingredients together and watching something turn by fire into something else fascinated him. It also had the side benefit of being a rather warm adventure every time, especially since he stood right by the oven while things baked.

And they still burned.

He wasn't sure why that was. He paid attention. In fact he practically mothered the things he cooked. Perhaps it was retribution, an enduring legacy. No matter what he touched was ruined. He could only freeze things, never thaw them. It was fitting, and he was just beginning to see the poetry and irony in that. But he wanted to be better. Useful. To fit in. For Julian.

Two just wasn't his home. He didn't know how to change that, or how to make himself more Two-like than Ten, through and through. There had to be something to that breeding, though, as Julian came into his arms with a bright smile on his face. Mace folded his arms around the other victor, biceps flexing as he drew Julian in close. It was easily the best part of his day, when Julian Bryze walked through the doors.

Mace met the tentative kiss for par, and then squeezed tighter. "Nah," he began, his hand whispering up and down Julian's spine. "They ain't with you. I am." He spoke slowly, in the carefully crafted drawl of his district. And he meant it. If Pashmina and the servants wanted to cook for Julian, they could. But it wasn't the same thing as them taking care of the other. Besides, what else was he going to use all those cooking lessons from the Capitol for? The Training Center had been pretty fucking useless, except for this one thing. And he wanted to make it worthwhile, somehow.

"We can figure it out later. You alright after training all day?" Mace leaned back a bit, so that his spine flexed outward while his hips pressed against Julian's. "You need anything?"

for what it's worth, I have a slow disease that sucked me dry... I always aim to please
but I nearly died

It hadn't been conscious, but the moment their hips met, Mace knew that it was a.) exactly what he wanted and b.) that he had probably taken it too far. Again. He was tired of apologizing for who he was, but he was also tired of falling short for Julian. He ought to be better, more controlled, more thoughtful. He just didn't quite know how. So when Julian came home from a long day, Mace offered what he would have wanted: food, and some old fashioned comfort. But that wasn't always what Julian wanted. Or ever. Mace had relaxed his grip, ready to step away, when Julian blushed and turned his eyes downward.

Mace quite liked what that did to his pulse, which skyrocketed.

And that lip, in his perfectly white teeth. Mace wanted to do that, to take the place of his lips, to feel Julian's flesh under his control. He began to chew on the inside of his cheek to distract himself, to feel some control in this situation that was rapidly slipping from his grasp. He curled his fingers in, holding Julian close as he spoke. He managed to let go of his mangled cheek just long enough to kiss Julian back, and it was brief and sweet. Exactly what he didn't deserve, and just a touch of what he wanted.

His heartbeat was in his throat, his head, his chest when Julian dusted his stomach with flour. That's all it took, that one moment of coy permission. Mace lifted his hands, wrapping them around Julian's waist as he bent to claim Julian's mouth. This was no "welcome home" kiss, but the kiss of someone who had waited and wanted. He pressed into the other victor, hungry and hopeful, sparing a moment to breathe as he lifted Julian to the counter.

He took one last nip at Julian's lips before releasing him, setting him down on the edge. Mace's grin was cocked to one side as he forced his own shirt over his head, leaned in so that his forehead touched Julian's. "I think your pants might have somethin' on 'em too," he whispered.

for what it's worth, I have a slow disease that sucked me dry... I always aim to please
but I nearly died

He was finally calm, and warm, and fulfilled. He laid on his back, one arm around Julian, his fingers dropping over his smooth flesh now and again. He found himself in almost a trance, thinking about the present and the man in his arms, and then nothing at all. Just drifting under the moonlight, satisfied in a way he'd never known possible. He drew careful circles over Julian's shoulder, felt the little tickle of his lover's eyelashes against his chest. If not for that he might have thought Julian asleep.

It occurred to him, in his haze of contentment, that he might try to sleep. He was, after all, a bit tired after their exertions. But not sleepy. It was not the exhaustion that plagued him day in and day out, the cloying fatigue that promised him nightmares of a diamond world. No, this would be restful, he felt sure of it. And yet he didn't want the present moment to slip away, to become a memory, which as of late had taken on a dream-like quality.

So he held to the moment, squeezing Julian tight as the other boy pulled in close. Mace lifted his other arm to rest along Julian's, so that his massive, calloused hand covered his. He was prepared for Julian to sleep, for him to be alone in the night. To stand guard. To keep the memory alive until dawn.

But Julian was constantly surprising him. Usually with good things, which wasn't to say that the question was a bad one. It just seemed stupid to Mace, but then, he'd never relied on people's words. He was only just beginning to understand how important they could be. Mace closed his eyes, steeled himself against his natural reaction to shake the truth into Julian. He lifted his head off the pillow, and then pushed back with his hips into a sitting position. His arms still held to Julian, bringing him up.

"You gotta look at me if you want an answer," Mace said, relaxing his grip.

for what it's worth, I have a slow disease that sucked me dry... I always aim to please
but I nearly died

This was the part of intimacy that was hard for Mace, made harder by the fact that he wasn't in his own home, or anywhere near his own element. It felt as though there were always eyes upon them in Two, even in their quietest moments. He was quite sure that Julian's home was safe from cameras, and they were far away from the bustle of the street. But still. It never quite felt as though it was just them alone, and it continued to nag at Mace.

And this was not a conversation he wanted to have in public, broadcasted, even though he was sure Panem would eat it up. But he didn't want to be talking about this at all, not really. He knew what he felt, and he'd known how Julian had felt for a long time. Talking about it always made it seem more artificial. Conversation had never really been his strong suit, though. More times than not he felt betrayed by the words that came out of his mouth. And if they were going to go through the torture of discussing their feelings, Mace wanted to get it right.

His expression settled from one of gentle teasing as Julian propped himself up to a much more sober one. Not quite the angry aloofness he normally managed. This was softer, but still distant. It was a distracting - in a much more familiar, comfortable way - to have Julian so close, his lithe figure resting atop Mace's hips. Mace left one hand resting lightly on the other victor's thigh, and the other he wrapped around the backside of Julian's neck, his fingers pressing into the valleys of his spine. Mace lifted his grey eyes to Julian's, and wished that Julian would believe the feeling in his kiss, his attempts at cooking, his willingness to traverse the entire nation.

But it would take more. And that's why Mace had fallen for him in the first place. Julian challenged him, pushed him forward when otherwise he would have slid back beyond emotionally remedial. And this was the balance to all that Julian had done for him. He almost went for the kiss anyhow, because he was a far superior communicator flesh to flesh. But it was the look in Julian's eyes, an echo of his own, that stopped him. There was a rawness, in both the blue and the grey, but it was not so cutting as it had been in years past. They were learning to move on. Together.

"I think about you all the time. I mean all the time. It's kind of exhausting, actually. You're the last person I think of when we go to sleep, and sometimes I'll even dream about you. And then when we wake up, it's always a relief. You're here, and I'm here, and that makes me feel good." Mace's unconsciously lifted the hand from Julian's thigh and put it over his own chest, again his heart. "Our life is... different than any I expected to have." Mace swallowed around the lump in his throat. Never had he expected to leave Ten. Never had he expected to bury a brother. "But you're worth all of it. Okay? And I mean yes. I do."

He took a deep breath, his eyes flickering closed for a moment. And when he opened them, they were lined with tears. "I love you," he whispered, his heart twisting around the unfamiliar words. Words he could not remember having ever spoken to anyone before, not his siblings, not Ma, not his countless cattle and horses. Just Julian.