arclightning | deerlybeloved

...kind of.

[ Wu wrinkles his nose, glad that Mako isn't brushing him off. The fact that there could be a list, of things that Mako likes about him, does help. He just wants to know that this isn't a fluke, that he isn't in this so much more than Mako is.

He glances up at Mako now. He wants to smooth out the frown on his face, wants to kiss it away. He put it there, and he wishes he hadn't asked. ]

You, um. You changed your mind so quickly. A few months ago, you were scared of being with a guy and now you're with me and that's, that.

[ It's hard. It's hard to keep up with Mako's shifting emotions, to clock where he's at. Wu needs to know how people feel about him, so he can act correctly, so he can be who they need him to be. ]

I mean.

[ There is a beat, during which Mako hesitates, watching him, his brows still furrowed, his head ticking. He is the same way, of course: that's why his mind is always running, always trying to figure people out. It's harder to calibrate himself when he doesn't know what people want (and there is, almost always, something people want). Safer to figure out what people are expecting from him so that if he defies it at least he knows he's doing it, and if he has to play into it, he can.

His mouth twists, slightly. ]

I do make a lot of lists. I could do that, if you really wanted it.

[ Will that help ease some of the worry on Wu's face? Mako hates seeing him like this. Sick and tired is one thing, and the reason still chases his dreams every night, which is why he's barely been sleeping and is probably too tired for this conversation. Sick, tired, and worried about the way Mako feels about him is worse.

And the list thing is really not the issue here, Mako realizes. The second part of what Wu said is the part that matters, the part of his words that stick to him like pins, poking into his head. Mako shifts a bit closer and the bed dips under his knee as he nudges it into Wu's covered leg. ]

Do you think I'm not still... scared? Of being with a guy? Because believe me, I am.

[ Those words hurt. They stick in his ribs like something barbed.

He's still scared. Of course he's still scared. Why would Wu think he's not?

Because he's with me. He kisses me, he sort of told me he loves me, Wu's mind whirs, trying to make sense of it all.

If he's still scared, why do it at all? ]

You are? I don't... why, then?

You're worth it.

[ The words slip out almost before Mako is aware of them, but the weight they carry can't be ignored: they fall into the space between Mako and Wu and sit there, bright and true and real.

Mako meets green, fever-hazed eyes for a moment before his gaze skips away, his mouth twisting up with the rest of the words. His own ears feel hot. He feels like Wu can see right through him, like there are eyes in the sky again, staring down at him, small and here and vulnerable, afraid every night, barely clinging to the few good things he has left. Wu is one of them. Wu has been one of them for a long time. ]

[ Well, that isn't what he expected.

Mako is cute when he's flustered, and Wu leans in a little more, something settling in him. He trusts Mako. He trusts him, but these thoughts take over sometimes. He needs the reassurance. He needs to know that Mako cares about him. ]

Oh.

[ That isn't nearly good enough, but Wu isn't sure what to say to that. It feels like there's more there, something precious and fragile, and he wants to let Mako say it, whatever it is. ]

[ It's in there, somewhere.

Mako has trouble pulling the words into something real, sometimes. They sit on his tongue, crowd up behind his teeth, but he's always been careful of what he says, has always tried (when he has the space, when his emotions are ballooning up too large and fast for him to handle) to consider what he says. He knows he isn't good at this, and maybe that's half the problem, here.

Slowly, he makes himself meet Wu's eyes again. His hair is curling up, unstyled. Mako really does like it better like this. It makes Wu look less coiffed, less perfect, less like a king and more like the soft, funny, ridiculous person he really is.

Mako's heart thuds up into his throat. ]

Yeah.

[ A beat. Something swells, nervous and warm, in Mako's belly. It would be so easy to say the wrong thing here, to break the fragile quiet stretched between them, to send Wu back into his worried spiral. How many times has Mako done that? He knows how clumsy he can be with these things, how easy it is to let his feelings get the better of him. He watches Wu with bated breath, pulling apart the strands of his own thoughts until he can weave them into something that makes sense: Wu is watching him, Wu is nervous, Wu thinks he changed his mind. ]

Korra asked me something, when I told her. She wanted to know whether I was thinking this way back in Republic City, and it made me realize that I... kind of was. I missed you. When you weren't in the city anymore.

[ He's talking less to Wu and more to Wu's knee, too aware of his own words and the quiet sound of his own voice, his fingers curling into Wu's hand and the covers both. ]

When you came back and Beifong said I was on guard duty again, I was—I mean. It was really good to see. Really good. It was kind of weird.

I missed you too.

[ It's easy to say. Of course he missed Mako. He wrote him all the time, telling him the things that were happening in Ba Sing Se, sending him lyrics. Nothing too important, nothing about his fears or worries, but the easy things they used to do together.

He thought it was just him. ]

You didn't seem happy. To see me.

[ But does Mako ever seem happy? Mako helped him. Mako caught him when he fainted, Mako helped him prepare his speech. Mako was there for him. Mako is always there for him. But maybe it's for a different reason he thought. ]

[ Mako makes a frustrated little sound, glancing for a moment over at Wu's dresser, at the curtains hanging heavy. ]

Well, I was. We got smoothies, of course I was glad to see you. I just couldn't figure out why I missed you so much. I thought it was just because I was used to you, but that wouldn't explain—I don't know.

Wouldn't explain... what?

[ Wu knows he's digging a little too deep, now, but he just wants to know. He wants to have it all out there, he wants to know everything Mako will tell him, so he can make that voice in the back of his head shut up. Mako is trying, he's really trying, and Wu knows how hard that is for him.

He squeezes Mako's hand tighter. Maybe he can help. ]

I, are you saying that you felt, ah, sort of like this, then?

Well, I wasn't in love with you, then.

[ Again, said quickly, before Mako can really pick up on the depth of his own words. ]

But. Yeah, something like that.

[ Wu sucks in a breath.

Why does Mako have to be like this? Why does he have to talk around things, make things seem obvious when they're not?

He sort of told Wu that he loves him, a few days ago. The people I love, he'd said. Now he says he wasn't in love with Wu then. The implication is clear, but Wu doesn't want to assume, doesn't want to be wrong.

But he's pretty sure. 98% sure.

So he smiles, leaning in even more so his face is bare inches from Mako's, fingers slipping onto his thigh. It isn't as hot or sexy as Wu wishes it was, seeing as he's sick and everything, but he can still tease Mako. Maybe that'll be easier than the tension of this conversation. ]

Oh, you weren't then, were you? Ah... so what are you now?

[ Wu is leaning closer. Smiling, so Mako can't have done anything too wrong, although his own words are hitting him now and that heat is creeping up his neck, prickling along his skin.

Wu is very close. Mako can feel his fever-heat, makes himself meet Wu's green, green eyes. His hair really is a mess, sweat-damp and wild from his pillows. One curl slips over his eye, almost a perfect circle.

Slowly, with gentle fingers, Mako reaches up to push it into the mass of his bangs. It really is soft. ]

Now, I think you're pretty incredible.

[ Strange, how easy it is to say that. Strange how the words bubble up and stay, how much Mako means them, how easy it is to lean in and push a kiss to the corner of Wu's mouth, slow and sweet. ]

[ That isn't what Wu was expecting, but it still makes him feel warm, in a good way, not in the feverish way. He leans into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut.

He still doesn't know where that comes from, why Mako would feel that way about him, but he won't question it, not now. Those words are almost better. Almost. ]

I think you're pretty incredible too.

[ He kisses Mako again, staying close ]

Thank you. I, ah, got in my head.

I know the feeling.

[ Mako kisses him again, slow and sweet, and pulls back before it gets intense, because Wu is sick and this is not about that. This is about Wu, being nervous about the grounds of their relationship and Mako doing a bad job telling Wu how he feels.

Apparently. Wu's still watching him, hazy-eyed and soft, looking a little rueful, and all Mako can do is tug him into a one-armed hug, pushing his face into Wu's hair as nerves flutter in his belly. ]

And I know— [ his words are breath, pressed quietly into the top of Wu's head ] —you're sick, and you're probably overthinking things, but. I love you, Wu.

[ Wu is still at those words.

He lets them wash over him, sinking into his skin, his bones, his heart. It's what he never dared ask for, what he desperately wanted, what he thought might be impossible. He's had hope, he's had a lot of hope, this last month. Dating Mako has been a dream, if you ignore the part where Mako turned into someone else, or the part where Wu forgot who Mako was, or the part where Wu died. But aside from that, from the things that Deerington does to them, it's been almost everything Wu wanted.

This completes it. Mako loving him, being in love with him. That's as close to perfect as Wu can get. Yes, Mako hinted at it, told him other sweet things, but Wu's mind won't settle, won't believe it until he's told straight out. Not about something this important.

He takes a shaky breath, his fingers slipping over Mako's throat, under his collar, holding him close.

He tries to speak, but only a small sound comes out. He doesn't want to cry again. He doesn't want Mako to think that he's anything but happy, anything but in love with him. That's really the problem: Wu is desperately, pathetically in love with him. If Mako didn't love him back, he's not sure what he would do with himself (the same thing he's always done: pretend. Put on a front, smile through it. But he doesn't want to do that, not now that he's experienced something like love).

Another shaky breath and he presses closer, his arm in a sling pressed between them. ]

You do?

[ How the tables have turned.

The thought is a half-formed thing, flitting through Mako's mind. He remembers very well what it was like to be trapped in bed with a useless arm and his own thoughts, remembers how useless he'd felt. His own identity had started to bleed at the edges: Mako doesn't know who he is unless he's doing something, and Pema had basically forbidden him from getting up or moving at all.

Now it's Wu who is trapped here, his arm pinned to his chest, probably chased by awful memories and worry and uncertainty. So much feeling is woven through those two quiet words. Mako's heart clenches with it, thuds into his ribs and sticks there, beating quietly.

Mako lets him press in close, pulls him in closer like that will ward off everything else, until it's just him and Wu and the soft bed underneath them, and the quiet sound of Wu's breathing, the soft occasional of the curtains in the breeze. ]

I do.

[ The words are soft, just for them: quiet things that Mako means with all of him. ]

The week without you here was the worst week of my life, Wu. I was so worried.

[ A small noise presses against Wu's lips, and he shifts closer, his face nestling in the crook of Mako's neck. He doesn't want Mako to be sad, to be worried, but knowing that he could be that sad or worried because of Wu means that Wu matters, that he's something to Mako that isn't just a King or a charge.

He shakes a little, and after a moment he decides not to hold it in. Mako loves him. Mako loves him, Mako worries about him, Mako is right here, taking care of him. Mako wants him to be happy, and Wu wants nothing more than Mako to be happy and safe and his. ]

I don't want to leave you again. I won't. If I can help it.

You probably won't be able to help it.

[ Wu is shaking in his arms. Mako frowns hard against his head, pulls him closer until they're a tangle of limbs, a little sweaty and too-warm, and Wu's arm is probably a little jammed against Mako. He shifts enough to free it and pushes a fierce kiss against the side of his head. ]

[ Wu closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss. Very small, soft between them, he murmurs: ]

I love you.

[ It's still scary to say. It's scary to love someone, but Mako loves him, Mako is holding him, Mako will protect him as long as he's able.

He presses closer, if that's possible, uncaring of how squished together they are. He can't get close enough. He feels desperate for it, desperate to be close to Mako, to press against him, to feel him ]

I really, really love you.

I love you too.

[ It's so easy to say, so natural to press those four small words into the side of Wu's face and throw a thigh over one of his legs until they really are a tangled mess, until the lines between them are blurred and something in Mako's body unlocks because he isn't alone anymore, because Wu is here and alive and loves him. ]

deerlybeloved

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