chrisisofaith | IC Contact

Hawke wraps around him like a shield and he can feel the urge to crumble into it, but he can't. Or maybe he simply doesn't want to, not because it's Hawke, but because he doesn't want to fall apart. He's better than that. Maybe he isn't king, but that doesn't make him less the person who's meant to be. Once upon a time, he'd been in this city, wondering if he could truly be the person who lead a city. He's not sure he ever got the answer to that question, but maybe it was time he did.

It's the deeper breaths and the soft tone and the tightness of Hawke's hold mixed with the realization he's already had that confirms for him what his friend needs right now and that's a direction to work in.

He pushes lightly at Hawke, expecting him to pull back enough for Chris to stand and take Wolfe's wrist. "Come inside with me. I'll lay out on the couch and you'll lay beside me so your head is against my chest while I hold you." He offers a small smile, the tiredness still at his eyes, but less forced this time. "Perhaps I'm not a king, but I'm a cleric. I'm the healer for those I know and love and I'll not lose that place while I have it. So-" His smile ticks up higher at one corner. "-healer's orders, Hawke."

There's a nagging sensation at the back of Hawke's mind that this isn't how this is backwards. He should be the one holding Chris. He should be the protector, the stalwart, the breakwater. He also should be able to do that with a smile and a steady hand but somewhere along the way his dynamic with Chris became different. Or maybe it always has been.

It's not a matter of him always giving, of only taking satisfaction in the care he offers and feeling weak for needing it back. He and Chris have near always been shoulder to shoulder from the beginning, leaning on one another in give and take alike. Friends. Comrades. Companions in a way that even some of his closest back home couldn't manage. He's what he chooses to be; reliable, helpful, a solid foundation there. Even Varric, even Anders, who arguably know him best, he can't crumble to. He'd only managed it outside of Thedas, and even then he'd hated how it made him feel when Anders looked at him and saw the cracks no matter how much he loved his healer reached to sooth them.

It feels similar here. Chris, who has so much of his own healing to do, reaching out and making room for him in a way that doesn't feel like a pittance but still makes his stomach twist unkindly that he's somehow forced this. But it's different than Anders, isn't it? He doesn't like that he's making the comparison at all, really. They're entirely different people.

He doesn't need to protect Chris. He wants to, but he doesn't need to. What protection and care Chris accepts he offers back in kind because he wants to, not because it's his calling or because he's terrified he'll lose what little care he's gathered for himself. There was always a fear in Anders, that even as he pushed Hawke away he never did so with force. He would tell him he should leave and hold him tightly in the same motion. Maybe it was starting to abate when Hawke had vanished, maybe he'd stood on his feet without Hawke and been better for it.

Maybe it's his fear, then. And not Anders' at all. A fear that he'll be a burden instead of a savior. Just another thing to worry about among hundreds.

He looks at Chris, having stepped back and allowed his wrist to be taken. Chris is not Anders. Chris is...

Not more. Not less, either. Chris is Chris. He's different. His needs are not Anders' needs and he doesn't have to protect him in order to prove that he will. That he wants to. He doesn't have to because Chris already knows and accepts that and isn't going to push him away out of a deluded idea of it being for his own good.

A soft sigh escapes him, some of the tension leaving him even if there's plenty more working it's way through him. That's for later consideration. Now he will nod, he will put his arm over Chris' shoulders and walk with him from the cold into the warm house, and arrange them perhaps not exactly as Chris laid them out. Not his head on Chris' chest, but on his shoulder, and the cleric's head on his too. Comfortable and able to see eye to eye.

"Better?"

So long as he can curl his arms about the other man, it's what he's after. Hawke made himself into a shield and Chris aims to be something softer, something for comfort to support the waver he picked up on in his friend.

He gives a small nod to the question while he lets his thoughts drift over to whatever he needed next. Maybe the obvious was the best place to start. "I know you're upset too. I'm not pointing it out to pull away from me or what I'm feeling, more pointing out that...if it were me, I'd be upset for the person I cared for. It'll help me to feel I'm doing something more than being...doted upon if I can help those carrying their own pain." Like the pit, in a way. Even if they weren't there, they hurt for his hurting just as they'd be happy for his happiness.

And maybe, on a selfish level, he can feel like he can take his pieces apart and shake them out if it didn't feel like those supporting him were holding onto themselves too tightly. Maybe.

"Alright," he replied in a soft rumble. That eases more in him too, the understanding that he's just worried for Chris and so Chris worries for him and it becomes a cycle they have to consciously break. A knot they've found the ends to. "I know the feeling."

He reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from Chris' face. "I told Martin similar, after the Pit. There's something healing in caring for others, even if their focus is on you. It's alright for it to be, so long as it's for help and not to bury things under the needs of someone else."

There's nothing accusing in his explaination, just a quiet acknowledgement that he understands and he'll help in that way if that's what Chris needs. "I'm alright. Or rather, I will be. I've already done what I can apart from anything you want of me."

There's a steely edge that comes over him at the mention of having done what he can do, but it passes quickly and he has no need to dredge it back again unless Chris wants to know the particulars.

Chris' fingers find Hawke's hair as well and trace down along his cheek to his jaw as green eyes follow the path. There's some guilt in him for the familiar action now. He should talk to Hawke about that too, clear the air if Amelia's wrong or let him know Chris knows if she's right. She shouldn't have spoken for him, he stands by that, but it's done now. If she was right, Hawke had his reasons for not telling Chris himself.

"Right now...I...I think I just need time. It's been a day. I can't sort my head that quickly without other things factoring in, asking me what I need now's..." he bites his lip and looks down to Hawke's beard instead. "It's too much. I might not know for a long while or ever...but if I do, I'll come to you. I promise." So maybe just patience.

"I'm worried for you and Amelia and your safety, but that'll pass with time and no consequences. I'd not have asked you to do that...but I'm selfishly glad you did." He looks back to Wolfe's ice-blue gaze as his hand moves back to run through the mage's hair again. "I do feel safer knowing I'll not happen across them."

He watches Chris watching him, a little furrow between fair eyebrows, that searching look that he'd expect to be turned inward right now but instead is searching him for something he's not finding. The words don't match that look either, but he's not sure if he should ask.

"We'll be fine, we were very careful. Masks and cloaks, silent as cats, and cleaned up after. No evidence." He snags Chris' fingers in his and brings his knuckles against his lips, barely kissing so much as just putting a bit of familiar pressure there. "Even if something comes of it, it will have been worth it."

His free hand he puts around Chris' back, shifting to be nearer, still thinking on that searching look and the emotion under it. Familiar, though not on Chris' face.

Guilt.

With a soft breath, he reaches to smooth the crease between Chris' brows. "None of that. You've nothing to be sorry for."

He's too kind to him. Too soft. But that's just Hawke. It's always been true. Soft enough to cut. His eyes close as Hawke's fingers trace over his skin. He can't know what was in Chris' thoughts, but there's an easy answer for that absurd assertion regardless.

His expression is more gentle resignation than reprimand as he shakes his head. "That's patently not true. I started the fight that turned off-hand words to actions. Their decisions were their own, but so were mine."

"Don't you dare," Hawke frowns, his voice a soft but firm warning. "If Jon's words that sparked this entire thing aren't something to be sorry for then neither are yours."

He takes a heavy breath, moving his hands to the sides of Chris's face, not forcing him to make eye contact but at least guiding his gaze in that direction. "It isn't your fault. You've done nothing wrong. We're all of us in a place that needs fought and you're at it tooth and nail. I hate that this happened to you but I am proud of you for not giving up."

He kisses him then, a fierce press to Chris' forehead because he can't kiss his mouth. He'd say something meant to be kind that would be so cruel in this moment. He won't put his feelings before Chris' right now, he won't let him worry over the mess of himself when there's plenty of other mess that can't be ignored.

He wants to argue, even as Hawke's words make sense, there's still a seed of doubt and guilt in him, even if it quiets under that firm voice. Under the word proud. His eyes are closed tight before those lips even press to his forehead and the creases return to his brow as he squeezes them tighter.

He can't do this. Now it feels unfair. Like a lie he's keeping for no reason.

"Stop..." It comes out soft and more exposed than he'd been hoping, but his fingers fall to Hawke's shirt to curl tight in the fabric at his shoulder. "I...earlier, I said I made Amelia uncomfortable. I wasn't making it up or misunderstanding. She told me she was surprised." He takes a more thick breath and looks up again to meet Hawke's gaze.

"She told me something, I think, expecting I already knew. An assumption she had about-" the words catch and die in his throat and annoyance at himself has him look down once more. This is still too much...but unless Hawke was willing to leave and not come around for a few days, it wasn't going away easily either.

Fingers in his shirt and a plea to stop that sounds so achingly vulnerable has Hawke going still, thinking he's gone too far. This isn't new for him, his care being too much. A light so bright he's blinding, something Anders had maybe not said outright but hinted at. He'd overwhelmed Alaric more than once too, his empathic abilities ratcheting it all up to the point that Hawke had started attempting to pull it back just to keep from making his boyfriend uncomfortable. But how do you pull back on feeling something that you don't want to put aside? That's supposed to be good?

He's still asking that question even now, and thanking the Maker, Andraste, even the Raven Queen that Chris is no empath no matter how good he is at making Wolfe feel that he's transparent as glass.

At Amelia's name Hawke shifts a little in concern. He'd been addled last night, certainly, but he doesn't regret what they'd done and he doesn't think she does either unless she's suddenly a lot better at hiding her emotions. They'd parted this morning with a kiss and a promise to meet again later, her going off to bring Chris his things and Hawke... Well, he'd fallen back asleep for another hour before rushing out to send Jon a statement. As far as he knows nothing was wrong. She would tell him, wouldn't she? He'd want her to tell him if something was amiss.

"About what?" He urges softly, a gentle push. If he can't say then Hawke can always corner Amelia later.

Chris counts to five and then looks back to Hawke. The least he could do was look in his friend’s eyes. Besides, it would be the best way to tell the validity of Amelia’s claim for himself.

“She saw our greeting and assumed we were together romantically. It startled her enough that she shut down other emotions to spare processing it.” Which still left…something in him, even if she claimed it would be fine. He was less sure.

But that’s not all of it. “She also insisted to me that your feelings ran deeper than you’ve admitted to..”

For a long moment Hawke just stares, his hands still and eyes unblinking. His mind empties hurriedly of all thought, heart in his throat suddenly. She didn't know. He doesn't think he told her so she didn't know and saw it anyway because he'd been vulnerable, his heart aching, and Andraste's pyre he'd kissed Chris like that in front of Amelia. That's the piece he'd been missing, what he felt all last night he'd had to make up to her but couldn't quite place what or why.

Fuck.

They're alright, or they will be. They'd set expectations at first already but he'd not intended to be quite so... So... Jarring when their relationship was so new. Actually he hadnt ever intended to say or do anything at all with what he's harboring for Chris. He's decided he's happy if he can continue to just be as they are, more than friends, less than a relationship, but still intrinsically valued and cared for. It's enough.

It would have been enough.

Fuck.

And right now of all times, too?

Fuck!

His gaze skitters away from Chris, a bit pale and shame-faced, like he's been caught doing something he aught not.

"It's not anything we have to talk about." Now or ever.

Chris watches him, his processing, the slow realization dawning and then the shame that trickles in.

He blinks and moves to sit up. “Alright.”

Then maybe it was nothing after all. Hawke tangling love and safety and release. Maybe simply a crush he’s attempting to chase away. If it was nothing, he’d simply deny it. If it was something, he wouldn’t run from it.

He runs a hand back through his hair, thoughts everywhere and nowhere as he’s torn between acceptance and…disappointment. This really is too much.

Chris pulls away and Hawke nearly grabs for him, nearly clings like a child. As it is he lets out a very undignified bereft noise that's small and strangled in his throat. He can't do this, he's fit to burst, but he can't pile more onto Chris either. Not now, not with... Everything. He doesn't feel the same way so this is only going to hurt but maybe to get past it they should talk. Or maybe not now, but...

"I meant now." Hawke sits up too, putting his feet flat on the floor and swallowing his guilt and his terror and everything else down in order to speak plainly. "I meant... We shouldn't talk about it now, not with- with everything. You're dealing with enough that you don't need to add my fool heart to it. It can wait. It's not important right now."

He forces himself to look over at Chris, giving a wan smile. He can wait to have the hard conversation. He can wait indefinitely if it means he can still love as strongly and as freely for a little while longer, until Chris inevitably tells him that's not what he wants. He'll be gentle as he can be, Hawke's sure, but still no.

Then...he does feel something? Or at lest thinks he does, with that sort of reaction.
His fool heart.
His fool everything.

But he's right, Chris can't even trust himself to react how he'd want to normally, much less in a way that makes sense. The last thing he needs is to burst into tears over an admission of feelings once more. Then he might not remember how to stop. Besides, he'd rather have Hawke being honest and real with him, not careful or politic. Another time, but he can't leave him with nothing either, not when there's something.

He meets that wan smile with a small, softer, one of his own. "It is important, though. You're not wrong that now's not...best time for any of that. Not...I'd have me at my best for your fool heart. But do ask me about it later. I want to have the talk." Either to dispel the misplaced feeling or to encourage it, they'd just have to see.

It is important, though. Andraste's holy ashes, he wants to deny it. He wants to lie and scramble away in the same moment that he wants to scream it from the top of his lungs and it's no different than any other day only now it's in the open. Just a peek, maybe, but Chris knows he feels something and it's-

It's not the time.

It's absolutely not the time.

This is the right call. Logical, justified, and he will abide by it because the alternative is that his love becomes another wound.

He just wishes it hadn't come up at all, because now he doesn't know what to do with himself. Does Chris even want his contact anymore, until this is resolved? Would Hawke's presence just be too much, make him think of the hard conversation to come and not the healing to be done now?

That's up to Chris.

Perhaps it's a moment of clarity, or perhaps it's that Hawke is and will always be a friend first and anything else second, but he's not going to make that decision for him. He might have, once upon a time. He might have gotten up and said some sweet nothing about how they'll talk later and to rest and then only spoken through text for the next however long whether that was what Chris wanted or not. But while he doesn't want to lay more decisions at Chris' feet, it's far worse to abandon him. He would be here even if he was not in love. He would be here because a good friend - his best friend - needed him.

He lets out a slow breath, forcing it to be warm and not create any tell-tale condensation in the air. He doesn't reach to pull Chris back into an embrace but he does move one hand so the back of it lightly brushes Chris' knee. Unobtrusive, but present. He's been obtrusive enough.

"Alright. After Jon's out and things have been righted for awhile." 'Awhile' is too nondescript, he should give an actual timeframe, not too far out but not too near either. "By the start of next month, if you're ready then. It's not set in stone, if you aren't."

A time frame...helps. It's something to aim for, in a way. 'Be better by' even if he knows Hawke would give him time if he needed it past that. He couldn't honestly guess.

Hawke's hand brushes his knee and he stares at it a moment before taking the hand in his own. "If...it's not too much, will you sit with me still? Just..." He looks back behind him to the corner of the couch. "If you are, then sit there, for me?"

The way they'd been laying felt...too much right now, but he selfishly still wanted the contact and Wolfe's presence. It had always been a balm all its own and nothing was going to change that easily. "And don't just say yes cause you're Hawke and a nice person. Only if you're comfortable, I'll be fine if you're not."

Contrary to getting more keyed up at the request, Hawke instead relaxes somewhat. Chris lays on him all the time, this is normal and feels it. With a small smile, Hawke scoots into the corner of the couch, arranging himself to be a comfortable cushion. "I'm saying yes not because I'm a nice person, though thank you for saying so, but because I want to make sure you know I'm here because we're friends, not any other reason. I would still be here regardless."

It's a little rough on his heart, but not any worse than any time before, and it's fundementally a relief given what they've now got looming on the horizon. He hopes he'll make it long enough before talking. He thinks he can make it, if only by virtue of Chris needing him to wait. He can wait. He can be patient.

If the alternative is making Chris overwhelmed and possibly pushing him away, he can be patient.

"Now come here, it's cold."

He gives a small, acknowledging, hum and moves back to settle in against Wolfe, tucking himself in against his friend in a way that has him relaxing by degrees. Maybe he shouldn't be indulging in this for...all kinds of reasons, but Hawke was here and willing and Chris-

He needed this. A moment of normalcy, even if that weight he'd felt at the back of his head since yesterday still lingered at the edges.

"I hope, in the spirit of 'I'd be here regardless' you know that I do intend to show my very thorough appreciation for your attention and protection, once things are a little less hectic." He doesn't say it with the same sort of smirking innuendo he might normally, but does lean his head back a bit more on whatever part of Wolfe happens to be behind him.

"I'll make sure to clear my busy schedule." He settles back too, arms loosely by Chris' sides in a sort of proto embrace. He'll let Chris be as close or as far as he wishes and remain static himself for now. A solid frame to lean on.

He wants to kiss the top of Chris' head but refrains, unsure if that would be welcome with what they've just discussed or if it would be painfully awkward. Would that be something he would do normally, though? He's not sure. It's a little difficult to untangle the reasons for his behavior around Chris since his feelings for the cleric have been entangled for so long now. Maybe? He wants to think he would.

As a compromised, he rests his chin lightly against the back of Chris' head, not kissing but still a gesture of freely given intimacy. "Whenever you're ready."

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