For Sasuke, that has been—his parents. Dead, now, pale ghosts of a life buried and left behind, of a childhood barely lived. His teammates—but even that Sasuke isn't certain. Did he love Kakashi and Sakura? Or Team Taka, Suigetsu and Karin and Jugo? It feels muddied in his mind; reaching for the memory of those people, there's only a strange and muted numbness, extended back into a deep well of regret. He tried to kill Kakashi and Sakura. He tried to kill Karin. Suigetsu and Jugo were only battlefield tools, and he never allowed them close to his body or his mind. And Naruto—yes, he knows it now. That he loved Naruto. But he had tried to kill him too, over and over and over.
Itachi. He loved his brother, but he also hated his brother. And he killed him.
There's a slow closing-off as Sasuke lies there beside the man, the god, who feels almost untouchable in that moment for their differences. An insignificant slip of a life like a ripple in a vast ocean. Knowing how these dimensions work, how long would he even have with Cy? It could be days. Weeks. Months, if there is some fortune. But not years. So how much can Cy really do? And why would Sasuke let him do that? All of that love to give, it would be wasted on someone like him.
Alone. It is empty, but that emptiness is what keeps him safe. From loving people. From hurting people.
Quietly he rolls over to face the other way, the vulnerability of lying there without clothes setting in like he's just noticed it.]
（ it feels like a test — but he doesn't think it's one for him. if he gets up and leaves, does it prove something to the boy for whom tender acts eviscerate? his mind — ancient, eldritch, overclocked, built up and broken down, considers the possibilities that fan out from this moment and beyond. each one a thread that, when pulled, leads to an inevitable end.
he does sit up, one knee propped up, arm draped across it. there's an uneasy ache hooked in behind his ribs, but the yawning grief has nothing to do with his own emotions. he's just — fucking sad, for this kid that's sweet and soft and so badly hurt it bleeds off of him like an arterial severance. ）
I'll go, （ he says finally, and his voice is a thing that is quiet and still as standing water, like a lake with a mirror surface reflecting the dawn. ） but will you answer a question first?
[He doesn't have to. Up to this point in their interactions with each other, Cy has proven that he'll listen to what he asks for, what he wants. So it would be easy to say no and get him to leave—he just has to communicate the words.
But then he'd wonder what Cy is going to ask, and... there's still a part of him, even craving security and familiar loneliness, that doesn't want Cy to go just yet. Maybe he'll always be at war with himself like this.]
（ it's said as he grabs his shirt, getting briefly tangled in it in that universal experience of 'where's the fucking hole for the head actually'. might be a god, still strangely human at the best and worst of times.
it's probably inside out by the time he manages it, tbh. ）
Because this one's a scratchy, asinine piece of shit and I will absolutely get you a better one from one of the other suites.
[He slept outside 90 percent of the time in that last dimension. As if to make a point, he pulls the (extremely shitty, threadbare) blanket up legs and over his lap.]
（ he holds out a hand, inviting a reciprocal touch. but there's no expectation of it, and if sasuke doesn't take his hand he'll let it drop without protest. if sasuke does complete the gesture, however, he'll bend over their hands in a gallant, theatrical bow and kiss the back of his. ）
Let's do dinner. After you've had a chance to really, deeply contemplate the foolishness of kicking somebody that looks this good naked out of your bed.
（ a broad, playful wink. ）
Don't be a stranger, Brightside.
（ and then he's gone, leaving only the impression of that eldritch magic behind. ）
[Now, instead of lying in the dark agonizing over every person he's tried to kill or successfully killed in his life, Sasuke will have to confront a new and troubling problem: Did he just get asked out on a date?
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no subject
For Sasuke, that has been—his parents. Dead, now, pale ghosts of a life buried and left behind, of a childhood barely lived. His teammates—but even that Sasuke isn't certain. Did he love Kakashi and Sakura? Or Team Taka, Suigetsu and Karin and Jugo? It feels muddied in his mind; reaching for the memory of those people, there's only a strange and muted numbness, extended back into a deep well of regret. He tried to kill Kakashi and Sakura. He tried to kill Karin. Suigetsu and Jugo were only battlefield tools, and he never allowed them close to his body or his mind. And Naruto—yes, he knows it now. That he loved Naruto. But he had tried to kill him too, over and over and over.
Itachi. He loved his brother, but he also hated his brother. And he killed him.
There's a slow closing-off as Sasuke lies there beside the man, the god, who feels almost untouchable in that moment for their differences. An insignificant slip of a life like a ripple in a vast ocean. Knowing how these dimensions work, how long would he even have with Cy? It could be days. Weeks. Months, if there is some fortune. But not years. So how much can Cy really do? And why would Sasuke let him do that? All of that love to give, it would be wasted on someone like him.
Alone. It is empty, but that emptiness is what keeps him safe. From loving people. From hurting people.
Quietly he rolls over to face the other way, the vulnerability of lying there without clothes setting in like he's just noticed it.]
I want to be alone.
no subject
he does sit up, one knee propped up, arm draped across it. there's an uneasy ache hooked in behind his ribs, but the yawning grief has nothing to do with his own emotions. he's just — fucking sad, for this kid that's sweet and soft and so badly hurt it bleeds off of him like an arterial severance. ）
I'll go, （ he says finally, and his voice is a thing that is quiet and still as standing water, like a lake with a mirror surface reflecting the dawn. ） but will you answer a question first?
no subject
But then he'd wonder what Cy is going to ask, and... there's still a part of him, even craving security and familiar loneliness, that doesn't want Cy to go just yet. Maybe he'll always be at war with himself like this.]
I will.
no subject
（ it's said as he grabs his shirt, getting briefly tangled in it in that universal experience of 'where's the fucking hole for the head actually'. might be a god, still strangely human at the best and worst of times.
it's probably inside out by the time he manages it, tbh. ）
Because this one's a scratchy, asinine piece of shit and I will absolutely get you a better one from one of the other suites.
no subject
Confusion, more than any other sentiment, clouds his features.]
... You're asking if I want a blanket?
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（ he shimmies into his sweatpants, which require markedly less fussing than the shirt. ）
I'm not entirely unconvinced this one's not shaved off a fuckin' werewolf.
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It's fine. It doesn't bother me.
[He slept outside 90 percent of the time in that last dimension. As if to make a point, he pulls the (extremely shitty, threadbare) blanket up legs and over his lap.]
Don't steal from someone else because of me.
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（ rude child. he can barter! or ask! ）
That's an offensive stereotype and I profoundly object to your cruel aspersions on my character, actually.
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[Don't be charming, he's trying to kick you out so he can angst in private.]
If you find one that doesn't belong to anyone, then fine. But I don't need it.
no subject
（ the most haphazard shrug in all of fucking creation, here. ）
What were we even talking about?
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Nothing. You were leaving.
[... unfortunately, his ability to be cold/rude to Cy is decreasing dramatically by the hour of every day.]
I'll see you later.
no subject
（ he holds out a hand, inviting a reciprocal touch. but there's no expectation of it, and if sasuke doesn't take his hand he'll let it drop without protest. if sasuke does complete the gesture, however, he'll bend over their hands in a gallant, theatrical bow and kiss the back of his. ）
Let's do dinner. After you've had a chance to really, deeply contemplate the foolishness of kicking somebody that looks this good naked out of your bed.
（ a broad, playful wink. ）
Don't be a stranger, Brightside.
（ and then he's gone, leaving only the impression of that eldritch magic behind. ）
freedom again
(And, yes, he took the hand.)]