Huh, that's odd. Drake wasn't expecting anyone and Ephemera never forgets his key. Hopefully whoever it is doesn't care that he's not quite decent, because in his experience drop bys have been either Sam or a friend with an emergency... and Sam's gone, so. He's at the door quickly, just in case.
"--hey," he doesn't bother hiding the surprise in his voice, or the concern as he looks Jesus over for injuries before beckoning him in. "Everything okay?"
Oh. Drake's brow smoothes out, expression softening with understanding as he steps back to let Jesus inside.
"You can always come in," he reassures Jesus instinctively, nudging the door closed once he's clear of it but catching him before he passes completely.
Hugs first! They're necessary when someone disappears. Like always Drake's embrace is strong and warm, but gentle enough that Jesus could pull back easily if he wanted.
"You wanna grab yourself a drink? I'll go put real clothes on."
Instead of pulling away, Jesus melts into it, and then he's hugging Drake fiercely, reminding himself it's only tiny acts of luck that they're here together at all. Any second he might lose Drake, too.
"Don't worry about real clothes," he murmurs, burying his face against Drake's neck.
He doesn't ask for Drake to stay out loud. He just holds onto him until something threatens to break in him and then he draws himself up straight and breathes deep, steady.
Jesus' reaction is both completely understandable and kind of unexpected anyway. The clinging moreso than the way he relaxes into Drake's arms at first -- that translates into comfort and trust. But then he buries his face and something twists in Drake's chest, one hand drifting up to cradle Jesus' head securely.
This is probably the first time the other man's lost somebody, here. And what if it was someone like them? With nothing to go back to?
"Okay," he says softly, just standing there holding Jesus until he's ready to stand on his own again. When he does lift his head Drake lets the hand in his hair slip free, instead brushing his fingers over Jesus' cheek. "What can I do?"
He's got a stocked kitchen, multiple furnishings to cuddle or fuck on, sparring mats, booze... they have options. And he's always willing to listen, if all Jesus needs is to talk about his lost friend.
Jesus hasn't cried since the first year of the apocalypse. He didn't cry through some of the worst, most soul-shredding things he's done and he doesn't cry now.
But it does hurt. It hurts just as much as his first losses ever did and there's a vague relief in that: he still feels it. He still cares as much as he had before the world fell to the dead.
"I need to think," he says, because he has ideas half-formed and free-floating and he is feeling too raw to pin them down. He'd normally go out hunting for walkers to clear his head, but he can't do that here. He can't spar because everyone here has an edge over him and he can't give up the only advantage he has, which is surprise and a grim willingness to go further to protect himself than other people are willing to go to hurt him.
There's just too much to sort through all at once so he glances away. "Is Ephemera home?" Or does he have Drake all to himself for a bit.
"Feels too much like a funeral," he admits, taking Drake's hand and leading him to the couch. Despite himself he doesn't want to let go of Drake, this little pocket of safety. "And I keep thinking he'll be back. That maybe he's alive."
"Sometimes people do come back," Drake tells him, not to get his hopes up but just because it's the truth. It's not as common as people just being gone, but either way there's something else he needs to ask.
He keeps hold of Jesus' hand and sits against his opposite side, so that he can tug the smaller man in against him with an arm around his shoulders.
"Yeah," he says, and shudders and tries to stop. He lays his forehead against Drake's chest and his free hand comes up behind Drake's neck as if to be sure he stays close just a little longer. Please. "He's gone."
Gone, entirely. Nothing left but a memory. He can deal with that easier than he can deal with hope. He hates that that's the state he's left in after all these years.
Okay. That's the worst answer, but at least Drake knows what Jesus is feeling right now. He's lost... too many people, where once they left they'd just be gone.
It was the hardest with Ephemera, but even very recently Sam and Crais have left empty spaces behind. Spaces no one else will ever fill, but that he knows in time will feel less raw. Drake strokes Jesus' back and bows his head, pressing a kiss to the other man's hair.
There is nowhere for this feeling to go. So he lets himself feel it, the gray concrete hollowness of it. He knows he's going to go on feeling it for a long time after this moment.
"He left behind his cat. I think it's meant for K but he can't have pets until he's contracted with someone--can I keep it?" He knows he doesn't really need to ask Drake's permission, but part of him is so raw that he needs the confirmation that it's okay.
It's true -- he doesn't need to ask at all, Drake will sign the license whenever it's put in front of him. But he can tell that Jesus needs him to say yes. Maybe there's just comfort in being told he's doing the right things?
So he does.
"Babe, I'd say take in a whole colony if that'd help... yeah. Keep his cat. He'd wanna know somebody was taking care of it, right?"
The kiss doesn't catch Drake off guard this time -- obviously he's getting used to Jesus using kisses to show gratitude. It's sweet, really.
"K? No... but I did see his post. Poor guy. Sounded like he really wanted to believe his dom was kidnapped."
Denial can last awhile, for some people. Drake hadn't replied since others seemed to have broken the news already and he wouldn't have been able to offer anything more to a stranger, but hopefully they got through to him.
"Yeah. He's not handling it well." Jesus is mourning, but he'll come out of it all right. This is no different than every other person he's lost, except he hasn't had to put a knife through V's head to be sure he'd stay dead. "He has a temporary Dom, though. They haven't hurt him."
Not the way Jesus's temp from the Zoo had hurt him, at least. "K's a good man. I hope you two get to know each other."
"I'd like to meet him, then. But what do you mean, not well?" Drake asks with concern, gently tugging the tie out of Jesus' hair so he can stroke his fingers through it. "Everybody grieves differently."
"You're right. You're right," he breathes out, and leans against him again and just lets himself enjoy how steady Drake feels right now. "I keep forgetting. Back home you could tell who was going to pull through and who wasn't. The people who pull through don't grieve deeply. It doesn't pull them down for long. It can't. But here, maybe he'll be okay."
Once again, it makes perfect sense with what he knows of their world... but Drake's response to hearing it from Jesus is different than when he heard it from Rosita. He hums softly as the tie pulls free, slipping it onto his wrist and just playing with Jesus' hair for a moment while he considers his words.
After all, he promised he'd be more careful with how he said things.
"...hey. You know that doesn't have to be you anymore," he murmurs, brushing his nails gently over Jesus' scalp. "I'm not saying dwell on it, but letting yourself feel deeply is safe now. At least with me. It's like... you're tied to an anchor, right? If you don't let it pull you down for long enough to free yourself, you're always gonna be fighting it. You'll get stronger so it's easier to stay afloat, but the weights add up. The knots get tighter. Better to wind up on the bottom for just a little while, so you can get out of the rope."
This obviously isn't meant to be entirely about Jesus, but he's getting to K. It felt important to address them both. Drake gives the other man a moment for that to process before speaking again, voice low and thoughtful.
"Is it K's first time losing somebody like this? 'Cuz it's never easy, but it's more important that he's not alone through it. Just like you're not -- so let it pull you, try to stay calm to work the knot loose, and trust me to keep the sharks away. Then maybe you can do the same for him."
"Yeah. I think so." He's pretty sure K has only ever lost one other person close to him. He doesn't know how close K and V were--close enough to contract despite K's deep concerns about it.
He does know how close he was to V. He remembers every evening they spent on rooftops watching the city change over to its nightlife. He remembers how he'd felt every time he saw V walk into a room.
The only thing he can do, he thinks, is not let this loss make him take for granted any of the people he still has.
Trust me to keep the sharks away.
Maybe Drake can do that. Maybe Jesus can let him do that, if just for tonight.
"Did you know," he murmurs, looking up at him. "You've never once made me doubt that I can trust you?"
Excuse you, Jesus, he's supposed to be making you feel better right now! Drake blinks, confused for a moment by the slight change of subject, but... it's not a bad one. And probably something he did need to hear, considering how poorly his conversations with Rosita keep going.
There's a subtle difference between understanding and respecting her concerns, and letting her doubt shake him. It was the same dynamic with Crais and Ephemera, where he'd start to worry after talking to one, until he was alone with the other. And this time around the entire issue has been whether or not Jesus can trust him. What Rosita expects him to do doesn't really matter, it's that like nearly everyone else around here, she's braced for him to not be as good as he seems.
Nearly everyone else. That makes Jesus pretty damn special.
Drake smiles at him, letting his fingers slip free of the other man's long hair just so that he can brush more of it out of his face.
"Did you know that you're a breath of fresh air?" He ducks his head, almost shyly, and gives a soft huff of laughter before glancing back up at Jesus. "I'm glad. You can trust me. But I think I was getting a little cynical there, myself."
He leans his head slightly into that touch, letting the slip of Drake's fingers in his hair soothe him. Although he frowns slightly at what Drake says.
"Why? Why cynical?" It's one thing Jesus strives not to be, no matter how easy it would be to just slide into that way of seeing the world.
Drake hesitates. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything, but now that he has it'd be weird not to answer. So he shrugs like it's not a big deal and twirls a lock of Jesus' hair around his finger, answering as casually as he can.
Jesus manages to win people's trust fairly easily; it's a part of how he survived the apocalypse. He can imagine, though, the hurt he'd feel if everyone insisted he was lying about his intentions. He's used to skepticism and cynicism, but it saddens him when it runs too deeply in people.
"You've got me now," he offers, and smiles slightly. "I might be a little bit of a mess right now, but you can lean on me." He kisses him lightly. "I can take it."
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"--hey," he doesn't bother hiding the surprise in his voice, or the concern as he looks Jesus over for injuries before beckoning him in. "Everything okay?"
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"My friend vanished. They said he went home." And he's not sure what that means.
Except that it hurts the same way seeing a friend dies does.
"Can- can I come in for a while?"
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"You can always come in," he reassures Jesus instinctively, nudging the door closed once he's clear of it but catching him before he passes completely.
Hugs first! They're necessary when someone disappears. Like always Drake's embrace is strong and warm, but gentle enough that Jesus could pull back easily if he wanted.
"You wanna grab yourself a drink? I'll go put real clothes on."
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"Don't worry about real clothes," he murmurs, burying his face against Drake's neck.
He doesn't ask for Drake to stay out loud. He just holds onto him until something threatens to break in him and then he draws himself up straight and breathes deep, steady.
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This is probably the first time the other man's lost somebody, here. And what if it was someone like them? With nothing to go back to?
"Okay," he says softly, just standing there holding Jesus until he's ready to stand on his own again. When he does lift his head Drake lets the hand in his hair slip free, instead brushing his fingers over Jesus' cheek. "What can I do?"
He's got a stocked kitchen, multiple furnishings to cuddle or fuck on, sparring mats, booze... they have options. And he's always willing to listen, if all Jesus needs is to talk about his lost friend.
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But it does hurt. It hurts just as much as his first losses ever did and there's a vague relief in that: he still feels it. He still cares as much as he had before the world fell to the dead.
"I need to think," he says, because he has ideas half-formed and free-floating and he is feeling too raw to pin them down. He'd normally go out hunting for walkers to clear his head, but he can't do that here. He can't spar because everyone here has an edge over him and he can't give up the only advantage he has, which is surprise and a grim willingness to go further to protect himself than other people are willing to go to hurt him.
There's just too much to sort through all at once so he glances away. "Is Ephemera home?" Or does he have Drake all to himself for a bit.
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"Just us. You wanna think out loud?"
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He keeps hold of Jesus' hand and sits against his opposite side, so that he can tug the smaller man in against him with an arm around his shoulders.
"Are you saying he's like us?"
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Gone, entirely. Nothing left but a memory. He can deal with that easier than he can deal with hope. He hates that that's the state he's left in after all these years.
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It was the hardest with Ephemera, but even very recently Sam and Crais have left empty spaces behind. Spaces no one else will ever fill, but that he knows in time will feel less raw. Drake strokes Jesus' back and bows his head, pressing a kiss to the other man's hair.
"I'm sorry."
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"He left behind his cat. I think it's meant for K but he can't have pets until he's contracted with someone--can I keep it?" He knows he doesn't really need to ask Drake's permission, but part of him is so raw that he needs the confirmation that it's okay.
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So he does.
"Babe, I'd say take in a whole colony if that'd help... yeah. Keep his cat. He'd wanna know somebody was taking care of it, right?"
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"It's just until K is signed with someone." Which is a whole other conversation, one he has to dip into. "Have you met him?"
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"K? No... but I did see his post. Poor guy. Sounded like he really wanted to believe his dom was kidnapped."
Denial can last awhile, for some people. Drake hadn't replied since others seemed to have broken the news already and he wouldn't have been able to offer anything more to a stranger, but hopefully they got through to him.
"You been to see him since he was told?"
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Not the way Jesus's temp from the Zoo had hurt him, at least. "K's a good man. I hope you two get to know each other."
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After all, he promised he'd be more careful with how he said things.
"...hey. You know that doesn't have to be you anymore," he murmurs, brushing his nails gently over Jesus' scalp. "I'm not saying dwell on it, but letting yourself feel deeply is safe now. At least with me. It's like... you're tied to an anchor, right? If you don't let it pull you down for long enough to free yourself, you're always gonna be fighting it. You'll get stronger so it's easier to stay afloat, but the weights add up. The knots get tighter. Better to wind up on the bottom for just a little while, so you can get out of the rope."
This obviously isn't meant to be entirely about Jesus, but he's getting to K. It felt important to address them both. Drake gives the other man a moment for that to process before speaking again, voice low and thoughtful.
"Is it K's first time losing somebody like this? 'Cuz it's never easy, but it's more important that he's not alone through it. Just like you're not -- so let it pull you, try to stay calm to work the knot loose, and trust me to keep the sharks away. Then maybe you can do the same for him."
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He does know how close he was to V. He remembers every evening they spent on rooftops watching the city change over to its nightlife. He remembers how he'd felt every time he saw V walk into a room.
The only thing he can do, he thinks, is not let this loss make him take for granted any of the people he still has.
Trust me to keep the sharks away.
Maybe Drake can do that. Maybe Jesus can let him do that, if just for tonight.
"Did you know," he murmurs, looking up at him. "You've never once made me doubt that I can trust you?"
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There's a subtle difference between understanding and respecting her concerns, and letting her doubt shake him. It was the same dynamic with Crais and Ephemera, where he'd start to worry after talking to one, until he was alone with the other. And this time around the entire issue has been whether or not Jesus can trust him. What Rosita expects him to do doesn't really matter, it's that like nearly everyone else around here, she's braced for him to not be as good as he seems.
Nearly everyone else. That makes Jesus pretty damn special.
Drake smiles at him, letting his fingers slip free of the other man's long hair just so that he can brush more of it out of his face.
"Did you know that you're a breath of fresh air?" He ducks his head, almost shyly, and gives a soft huff of laughter before glancing back up at Jesus. "I'm glad. You can trust me. But I think I was getting a little cynical there, myself."
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"Why? Why cynical?" It's one thing Jesus strives not to be, no matter how easy it would be to just slide into that way of seeing the world.
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"It's not even one hand's worth, counting the people that have just trusted me here. Padmé. Ephemera. You. Funny that you all wound up signing, because everybody else starts out convinced it's a front. And I'm used to that, but like..." he shakes his head a little, his smile faltering for a moment, "There was a long stretch of people giving me a hard time, between him and you. Especially with Crais and Sam gone I guess dealing with that suspicion more again is on my mind a lot. Awhile back I did let it get to me, that he was all I had and I was leaning too much... it wasn't fair to make him deal with. That's all."
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"You've got me now," he offers, and smiles slightly. "I might be a little bit of a mess right now, but you can lean on me." He kisses him lightly. "I can take it."
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