(no subject)
Finn/Alden cruisefic, for great yay. Features sunburns, smut, and Really Big Issues.
They've been on the ship for a few days, and that's very nice. Alden seems to prefer being on the ship, even when they have shore leave; he tells Finn he doesn't like sand, and grins and flops down on a deck chair to sun himself.
A few days in, it is an especially warm day and he does this without a shirt on.
Very shortly afterwards, Finn is treated to the sight of Alden wearing a t-shirt and a glum expression on his strangely red face. Finn is playing cards with Val, who does like beaches but appears to like cards more, but Alden, with scarcely a word of apology, drags Finn away from his game.
"You sunburned, didn't you," Finn says gleefully. "You forgot and you sunburned." Alden's been laughing at him for putting sunscreen on every morning-though he doesn't seem to mind helping Finn put it on.
"Shut up," Alden says irritably as they leave the rec room and go out onto open deck. "I just forgot, all right?"
"Of course you did. I've told you to put sunscreen on."
"Doesn't mean I'm going to listen," Alden mumbles, and though he doesn't smile it's obviously meant at least somewhat jokingly.
"I don't think I can repair an entire layer of skin."
"Yeah. I already tried." Alden glares at his own shoulder. "Think of it. I can snatch people from the brink of death, and I can't bloody well get rid of a sunburn."
"You can't cure the common cold, either," Finn says cheerfully. "Give it a few days. You'll peel."
"That's undignified," Alden protests. "Can't you do something?"
"No, Alden, I can't. Well, I could rub aloe on you or something, but that just gets rid of the itching."
"Dammit." Alden rubs his forehead and winces. "My face, my shoulders, my collarbones, my back. Bloody hell."
"How did you manage to burn your front and your back?" Finn asks curiously.
"Sitting up," Alden says. "Reading a book. Then I turned over. Nice and crispy all round."
"Like in an oven," Finn agrees. "And you didn't notice?"
"It was a good book," Alden says defensively.
"You'll have to lend it to me. Anyway, come on back to the room and I can put lotion on it or something. You look like a lobster." He considers this for a moment, and says disappointedly, "You know, this probably means we can't have-"
"Oh yes we can," Alden says fiercely. "Sunburns are nothing."
"You're going to take that back," Finn murmurs. "I can almost guarantee it."
"If we ignore the sunburned bits I'm sure we can manage," Alden says practically, and follows Finn back inside and down a staircase towards their room.
"Let's deal with those bits first," Finn says, when they're safely ensconced in their quarters, which are rather more cramped than the ones back at Headquarters.
It's sort of nice, actually. Partly because Alden keeps randomly pouncing him. Not at the moment, though. Alden sits down rather dejectedly on the bed and strips his shirt, sighing. Bright red shoulders. That looks painful.
Finn fetches some aloe from the bathroom and sits down behind him. "That's nasty," he murmurs, rubbing some into Alden's shoulders.
Alden hisses quietly. "Yes," he murmurs, "rather."
"Sorry. It's going to sting, rather."
"I can tell," Alden murmurs, and shrugs slightly. "No matter. It was stupid of me."
"Yes, it was," Finn agrees. "Turn around so I can get your chest and face. Ooh, and you burned your ears, too."
"Of course," Alden says sarcastically, turning round. "And thank you for the great confidence and support."
"I told you to use suntan lotion! You didn't listen," Finn says sternly. "And you had it all over your hands anyway."
"What, I had suntan lotion all over my hands?"
"Yes. Because you'd been very enthusiastically helping me put it on," Finn says dryly, rubbing aloe into Alden's ears.
"Yes," Alden agrees dryly. "It was an excuse to touch you, shockingly enough. Don't know why you didn't do the same for me, come to that."
"Because you said you didn't need suntan lotion, you wouldn't let yourself get burned." Finn leans up and kisses his mouth very gently. "And now look at you."
"Mff. Rather not," Alden mumbles. "Really hideous shade of red."
"Lobster red."
"Lobsters are hideous," Alden says firmly, "and you're not helping."
"Yes I am. Look, doesn't that feel better?" Finn sits back.
Alden sighs and looks at him. "Yes. Very well. Much better. I'm still bright red."
"I can't fix that." Finn flops back on the bed, banishing the bottle and closing his eyes.
"You don't seem very repentant," Alden murmurs.
"I warned you. You didn't listen."
"Yes, but." Finn can feel Alden make a frustrated little movement. "You're just scolding me for it."
"There isn't much else I can do."
"Yes there is," Alden mumbles.
"Oh?" Finn opens one eye. "What?"
"I don't know," Alden says, rather frustrated. "Just. Not bloody well this. Just a sunburn, Finn, and-you're treating it important in ways I don't want it to be and unimportant in ways I do."
"Then you'll have to enumerate how I'm supposed to treat it," Finn says. "Because this is how I always got treated when I sunburned."
"You're treating it as something that's my fault and something that shouldn't be touched!" Alden returns, annoyed.
"Alden, you don't want me to touch your sunburn. Especially not one that bad."
"I don't care," Alden says impatiently. "So I'm to wait two or three days before you'll touch me?"
Finn sighs and sits up. He sets his hands on Alden's chest, pushing him over back onto the bed. And even though he's kissing Alden, he's willing to bet that the combined feeling of the sheets on his back and Finn pressing down on his front isn't going to be tolerable.
Alden makes a small pained noise and shoves Finn away. "All right," he gasps. "You've bloody well made your point, and you bloody well know there's other ways to do this."
Finn tumbles back on the bed. "And what do you expect me to do if I can't even kiss you?"
"You can," Alden says quietly. "Just-just don't touch me where I'm burned."
"Alden, you're burned down to your waist on both sides," Finn says softly. "I can't touch you without hurting you."
"Yes you can," Alden says fiercely, and there's something nearly desperate in his face. "Please, Finn."
Finn can't understand the desperation, or how it's gone from sunburn to this, but he sits up again and very carefully kisses Alden's mouth.
Alden relaxes a little, kissing him in return and winding his hands through Finn's hair.
After a few moments, Finn pulls back a little. "I don't want to hurt you," he says quietly.
"It's fine," Alden says. "Just think about touch, Finn. Not hurt."
"That doesn't make sense!" he says, frustrated, hand clenching.
Alden makes a little choked noise. "You're more important," he says fiercely.
Finn drops his hands. "When did this get bigger than a sunburn?" he whispers.
"I don't know," Alden says, and now he won't meet Finn's eyes. "I wanted us to have time right now, when we don't have to be running from anything, and-and I thought there must still be parts of me that didn't believe this will work. I'm wrong. I think it will. I don't know what this has to do with a sunburn, but I want you to touch me."
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Finn reaches out, sliding around a little so he can run his fingers over Alden's back, which isn't quite as badly sunburned as the rest.
Alden shivers, ducks his head. He makes another small involuntary noise that just borders on pain.
"Don't want to hurt you," Finn whispers unhappily, though he doesn't move his hands away. "It makes me wonder if it's going to be this way for as long as we're working here. Reminders of pain even in the calm times."
"Oh yes," Alden says, drawing a hitching breath, "it's a metaphorical sunburn now."
"You know what I meant," Finn says quietly.
"Yes," Alden whispers, "and you're wrong, Finn, because this isn't pain. It hurts, yes, but-isn't pain." He takes Finn's face in his hands, gives him a shaky smile. "I never show pain, Finn. They slice my shoulder to bits and I don't scream. A sunburn's nothing. But I-I want you to know I feel. Don't hide things from you."
Finn knows his eyes have gone wide and his breathing's gone uneven, the way it does whenever he remembers what they've done to Alden. His Alden, who he takes in his arms now, shivering despite the warm Caribbean air.
Alden makes another small noise and presses his burning face to Finn's shoulder, arms wrapped just as tight around Finn. He's shaking because the sunburn does hurt a little and he isn't trying to hide it.
Why did you choose me? Finn thinks wonderingly, stroking Alden's back gently, tries to send soothing, cool little tendrils into the skin beneath his fingers.
Alden sighs, relaxing against him; evidently the bits of coolness are helping. He presses a soft kiss to Finn's shoulder through the cloth of his shirt.
"I'll touch you," Finn says quietly, "But I do want you to take it easy for a few days, okay?"
Alden laughs against his neck. "Agreed."
"Thank you. And in return I won't tell Val that you're crispy."
"Yes, he might douse me in barbeque sauce," Alden murmurs wryly.
Finn blinks at the opposite wall.
The other man laughs again. "Joke, Finn."
"I know, but I didn't need the mental image."
"I suppose not."
Finn laughs and leans back. "Get some rest, unless you want to go soak in the pool."
Alden makes a discontented little sound and pushes Finn over backwards.
"Alden-" The protest doesn't even get finished. Because Alden is kissing him fiercely, pressed close against Finn, hands tight on his shoulders, completely silent and shaking slightly still.
Finn raises his hands, resting them very lightly against Alden's shoulders, still confused as to what exactly has done this to Alden. It's only a sunburn. It shouldn't mean anything more than that.
"No," Alden whispers, pulling away enough to say it against his lips. "No, God, Finn, please don't be gentle."
"I'm not going to hurt you," he returns fiercely. "Everyone hurts you, Alden, and I'm not going to if I can help it, and if I'm not gentle right now it's going to hurt like hell."
"Don't care," Alden whispers, and pulls back a bit more, looking down at Finn very seriously. "You know the real reason I do it? Let myself get into such dangerous places, let myself be hurt? Because I can feel then. And-" he swallows hard. "Even making love sometimes it's hard to feel. Did it so much when it meant nothing that I still start going numb, on reflex." He squeezes his eyes shut. "And-God, I'd feel this, Finn. There are bad hurts and good hurts."
It takes a few seconds for him to be able to breathe again, and then Finn launches forward, reversing their positions.
He wouldn't be able to if Alden wasn't letting him, of course, he reflects unhappily as he presses Alden back into the bed, kissing him fiercely.
Alden cries out, clutches at Finn's shoulders, returns the kiss with equal intensity. His skin under Finn's fingers feels feverish.
"I don't want to hurt you," Finn mumbles against his mouth, as his fingers unfasten Alden's trousers. "I don't like hurting you, dammit."
"God," Alden whispers, his breath coming in frantic little bursts, arching up against Finn's hands. "God, Finn."
"I don't like it when you're hurt," he whispers, trailing kisses along Alden's collarbone, down his chest and stomach.
"Don't-don't mind when it's you," Alden whispers shakily. He can't seem to know what to do with his hands; one moment they're grasping frantically at the sheets, the next in Finn's hair, twisting just slightly too tight.
"You don't understand," Finn says sadly, but doesn't finish the thought, just slides a little lower and takes Alden in his mouth, which makes speech, thankfully, impossible.
"But-" Alden starts to whisper, question or protest, and then his hands in Finn's hair go a little tighter and he just says "Finn," helpless and frantic.
Finn settles his hands on Alden's hips, undamaged by the sun, and concentrates on distracting Alden from any sort of pain.
Whatever Alden might have been thinking, it seems that he's quite distracted from everything now; he whispers Finn's name, over and again, trembling, and the name goes ragged, turns into a wordless moan, Alden's hands in Finn's hair going painfully tight.
Finn draws back, swallowing, eyes flickering sadly up and down Alden's shivering form.
"God," Alden whispers helplessly after a moment. "Finn." He turns his head a little to blink up at Finn with a rather stunned look.
Finn smiles wanly at him and fetches a light blanket from the closet, draping it across Alden's hips. "Best if you rested for a bit," he says quietly. "Don't want you going back outside with that."
Alden makes a vague protesting movement. "What about you?"
"I'm fine." Finn kisses his forehead. "I'm just going to play cards with Val, if he's still up there."
A lost look flickers across Alden's face for a moment, but he only nods.
"I told you I didn't want to hurt you," Finn says softly. "But I guess I do anyway. I need to think."
"It's fine," Alden murmurs, and rolls onto his stomach, wincing slightly. "Go on. I'm tired anyway. All this on top of lying in the sun for hours."
"All right." Finn shuts off the light, though there is still plenty coming in from the glass door leading onto the balcony. "I'll be back in a few hours."
"Kay," Alden whispers. "G'bye, then."
"I'll see you in a bit." Finn's voice goes oddly tight, and he shuts the door behind him.
Really what he wants to do is curl up and hide somewhere, but that isn't exactly an option.
Alden lies there for a long while without sleeping. He feels a dull ache everywhere; in the places he's sunburned, it's physical, but everywhere else it's something deeper. There's a part of him Finn can't possibly understand, and it's hurting both of them in a way that makes Alden's chest feel strangely tight.
When he falls asleep, it's restless, and in the middle of it he gets a pounding headache without wakening.
Soothing coolness reaches in, lessening the burning and easing the pain in his head, and when Alden opens his eyes Finn is there, fingers resting against his temples, face set.
"'Lo," Alden croaks, and winces. "Did I sleep long?"
"About three hours," Finn murmurs, and sits back. "How do you feel?"
"Ow," Alden says succinctly.
Finn laughs and touches his head. There's an odd, lingering sadness about him. "Do you want anything?"
"You," Alden says without thinking, and shakes his head. "Water."
Finn conjures him a glass, helping him to sit up.
"'S okay, don't need help," Alden mutters, but he takes the glass very thankfully and drinks the whole thing, still feeling rather dizzy. Having finished, he asks, "Do sunburns dehydrate one?"
"Yes."
"Damn," Alden murmurs. "C'n I have a bit more?"
Finn nods and refills his glass. "As much as you need."
"This should be fine," Alden murmurs, and drinks it, and though he still feels rather dizzy when it's gone, he doesn't feel horribly thirsty anymore. "Did you trounce Val at cards?"
"Rather. Then we played Go Fish with Albion for a bit, and he won all every time."
Alden grins. "He always wins. Glad to hear he's in form."
"I'd never met him before. Is he a friend of yours?"
"Yeah." Alden scratches at his shoulder and winces when a layer of skin peels off, smarting. "I had to guard him for a research mission in a war zone, and afterwards we stayed in touch."
Finn nods. "Do you want more lotion for that?"
"Might be nice."
Another nod, and Finn retrieves the lotion and begins rubbing it into his shoulders, back, and chest.
Alden sighs, closes his eyes. This at least is still okay. Still intact. Just because he's fucked up doesn't mean some things aren't okay.
"I do wish you'd be more careful," Finn says quietly, hands soothing on his skin. "You're always getting hurt."
"Told you why," Alden mumbles. Doesn't apologise. No point.
"I know." Finn's voice is tight. "I don't like it. I hate it when you're hurt, Alden, and you always fucking are."
"Told you why," Alden repeats steadily.
"I know. Is it always going to be like this?" Finn asks unhappily. "Is it always going to be you getting hurt and me trying to make it better without succeeding?"
"Don't understand why you need to," Alden whispers, and looks back at him. "Not all the time. I've handled it for years."
"You handled it alone!" Finn's face is hurt, angry. "But I'm here now, and it doesn't have to hurt. You just don't know anything else anymore."
Alden looks away. "Right. Okay. What's better?"
Finn kisses his cheek. "Not being hurt," he murmurs. "Being a little more careful. It doesn't take much. You have to let me help you."
"But Finn," Alden says helplessly. "That's how I feel. Even now I've got you. Still, sometimes-"
"I know," Finn says unhappily. "But I wish you wouldn't go running into things and getting yourself so hurt. And I'm not talking about sunburn."
"I know." Alden ducks his head, staring at his own hands. Dammit. "Someone has to do it."
"It doesn't always have to be you."
"Oh yes?" Alden looks back up, rather despairingly. "Who?"
"The entire rest of the organisation!" Finn says angrily, fists clenching. "Someone else! We can't do this forever, Alden!"
Alden blinks, feeling a bit lost suddenly. "Can't do what?"
"We can't be fighting diplomats forever," Finn says quietly.
"Oh," Alden says, quite blankly, and-"What else is there, Finn?"
"Retirement," Finn says, blinking. "Other diplomatic work, on the homeworld. A bit less dangerous, but still useful."
"But."
Alden can't conceive it. "No. No, I'd go quite mad."
"I don't want to watch you die," Finn whispers bleakly. "I'm not saying you should retire anytime soon, Alden. But you can't stay until you're as old as Val. You'll die."
"And?" Alden touches Finn's face softly. "Better than dying very old in a bed because I'm too weak to move farther than the loo. I don't want to ever become like that."
"When, then?" Finn whispers. "You're forty-five, Alden. How many years do I get before you're too old for this, and it kills you?"
"At least twenty," Alden says quietly. "That's half again as old as you are now, lad."
"You don't know that," Finn whispers. "That's if you're lucky." His head is bowed, and when he looks up his face is twisted with anger like Alden's never seen.
"Finn," Alden says steadily. "I can't do otherwise."
"You're going to make me watch you die!" Finn cries, catching his shoulders.
Alden swallows hard. "You don't know that," he whispers.
"Yes I do," Finn snaps angrily. "Because it's always you who throws yourself into the middle of things, and it's always you who gets hurt. And you're going to die. I'm going to have to watch you die."
"You don't know that," Alden says again, fiercely. "And-and you don't know me if you think I'm-" He swallows hard. "I can't quit just because you tell me to, Finn. Remember? I can't."
"I know," Finn whispers, and crumples, curling up on the bed, face hidden.
"No matter how much I want to," Alden murmurs. "I'd do it in an instant. Let this place go. Go with you. And I'd die of it instead."
"I don't understand," Finn whispers, voice shaking. Alden knows that he's crying. "I don't understand why it wouldn't be enough. Still being useful, even if it's not here. I don't understand why I have to watch you die."
"I can't live like that," Alden says helplessly, and swallows. "I can't get that old, Finn. I-have to go down burning. Wouldn't be me anymore."
And Finn's crumpled there, and right. Finn is going to watch him die, one day.
"God, Finn. I'm so sorry."
Finn's body convulses, and he sobs, painful sobs that wrack his whole body.
Alden settles trembling hands on Finn's back. "I'm sorry," he whispers again helplessly. Can't do anything more. His sunburn is wholly forgotten, but he can't think of what might help Finn now.
"I don't want to watch you die," Finn sobs, curling tighter.
"Might not," Alden says, and winces. Isn't right at all. "I can't promise you won't, Finn. I'm sorry. I can't."
"I will," Finn whispers, shaking with tears. "I will."
"Finn," Alden says, nearly angrily, and puts both hands firmly on Finn's shoulders, pulling him up a little. "Then what the hell are you wasting your time now for crying about it?"
"So I don't then," Finn mumbles. "Because I won't be able to. Because you won't want me to die when you do."
"Not if you can help it," Alden whispers, and swallows. "Finn. I asked you. So long ago. What happens when one of us dies? You didn't think."
Finn makes a wrenching little noise and darts forward, kisses him with wet cheeks and lips that taste like tears. He pulls away before Alden can respond, curling up again, whispering something.
"Finn," Alden says despairingly. "Please. Don't shut yourself out for this."
"What do you expect me to do?" he mumbles.
"Just carry on," Alden says fiercely. "Doesn't make a difference."
"Only for you," Finn whispers sadly. "Let me be for a bit, Alden. If I have to lose you. If you won't settle for anything less-at least give me this time. When we know nothing's going to happen."
"I am giving you this time," Alden whispers. "Why do you think I'm spending every waking moment with you? I have to."
"You don't have to do anything," Finn says quietly. "You just think you do."
"I do," Alden whispers, looking down. "No point otherwise. I do."
"I know," Finn whispers, and then goes silent. Alden doesn't need to look to see the tears.
"I'm sorry," Alden says again, very quietly. "Finn. I can't change myself. Not even for this."
"I know," Finn whispers. "I know. I'm not allowed to try and change you. God fucking damn it, Alden, why is it always like this? Why is it always pain, always death, always going down in flames? Why are we never allowed to be happy? Why the fuck can't you let yourself have that?"
"I told you," Alden mutters, stares down at his hands. "Never learned how. And-I am happy, Finn. I'm happy with you. I've learned that much. That's all I can do."
"That's all you let yourself do," Finn mumbles, and falls silent.
"Oh yes?" Alden says, and swallows hard because he doesn't want to be angry with Finn, especially not when Finn is so crumpled and broken like this, and yet he is angry, and he hates that. "Yes, thank you for knowing exactly how fucked-up I am. Brilliant."
"Am I not supposed to know you?" Finn shoots back, rolling over and sitting up at glaring at him through his tears.
"I just don't know why you presume to know this!" Alden snarls.
Finn goes completely still. "Do I?" he asks softly. "Do I presume?"
"Oh God," Alden whispers, and buries his face in his hands. "Sorry. I warned you I'm no good at this."
Thought I'd got over worrying, though, he thinks miserably.
He feels Finn reach out for him, but the hand falls away, and the bed shifts as Finn gets up, heads into the bathroom to wash the tear stains away.
Dammit, Alden thinks faintly, staying exactly where he is. No point in running after Finn. He doesn't want to yell. He doesn't want them angry.
He doesn't want to die.
Alden blinks through the space between his fingers. Neither of them want him to die.
Not yet. He doesn't want to get old, either.
Finn doesn't come out for a long, long time. Alden has the impression that he's staring in the mirror.
Alden merely sits on the bed, tapping a little rhythm on his leg. He feels rather as though he should go after Finn, but he's paralysed with old fears. Getting this wrong; getting old; giving in.
After a while Finn comes out, but not back to the bed; he pulls open the sliding door and lets himself out onto the balcony, the warm Caribbean breeze tugging at his hair as he leans on the railing.
Alden swallows and gets up and comes out to the balcony with him, staring down at the water below them, a brilliant green-blue, lapping serenely against the hull of the ship. The others should be coming back from their day on the beach soon.
Finn's silent, watching the water. He isn't crying anymore, but there's none of the peace that marked their first few days aboard ship.
"Finn," Alden says helplessly, after a long while.
"Hmm?"
"Look," Alden says, and takes a shaky breath. "I don't know what to say to make it better. Not the faintest fucking clue. But I don't want this either. Whatever it is. I hate it."
"I can't ask it of you," Finn whispers. "I can't. So I have to just... try and make sure there's time."
Alden ducks his head, rakes a hand through his hair. "I suppose the question is, will it hurt you more when I die on mission than it would hurt me if we retired?"
"We can't know, can we?" Finn murmurs. "We could-we could try retiring, in ten years or so, if nothing happens in that time. You'll be about as old then as Val is now, and it's possible you might start getting affected by transport the way he is. But if retirement doesn't suit you, then we can come back, and-and do it your way."
Alden takes a shaky breath. "Fair enough," he whispers. "Yes. We can try that."
"Thank you," Finn murmurs, and turns, cupping Alden's face lightly in his hands. His eyes are soft. "It means so much to me, Alden, that you would. And you mean so much..."
Alden smiles, a small, tremulous smile. "You upset my worldview so," he whispers. "I'm in love and I'm staying in love. I've just agreed to retire. Agreed to giving getting old a try. Finn, what are you doing to me?"
Finn laughs, and kisses him lightly. "I love you," he says simply, against Alden's lips.
Alden steps closer, wraps his arms firmly around Finn's waist, and in turn kisses Finn, not lightly at all.
And Finn makes a little whimpering noise, hands slipping around to curl in the hair at the base of Alden's neck. His lips still taste faintly of tears, and he presses close as possible.
Alden explores his mouth thoroughly, then pulls back and whispers against Finn's cheek, "I'm sorry, Finn, so sorry, you know I'm no good at this-"
"Shh, it's all right. I love you even for that, Alden."
"Mad," Alden murmurs. "I made you cry, Finn. You can't love me for that."
"I sound so pathetic when you put it that way," Finn mumbles wryly. "No, not for that. But I still love you, even when I'm unhappy with you."
Alden laughs quietly. "But not the parts of me that have no idea what the hell they're doing. My mind, for example."
"Nah, your mind works fine." Finn kisses his cheek.
"Not about this it doesn't," Alden counters, drawing Finn back into the room in case they forget themselves and end up falling off the balcony or something equally embarrassing.
Not that they couldn't catch themselves in midair, but it's the principle of the thing. Finn follows him silently.
"'m sorry," Alden murmurs again, ducks to kiss Finn's shoulder. "I'm so stupid about this."
"It's a hard thing to talk about," Finn says quietly.
"No," Alden says, looking back up. "I mean any of it. I don't mean it's difficult to talk about, I mean I get it wrong."
"But it's hard to say what is right or wrong, in this." Finn touches his face. "And you always second-guess yourself when it comes to this, too."
"Because you tell me there's other things," Alden mumbles, "and I can't see them. They must be there for you. Either you're hallucinating or I'm blind."
"Or you haven't known them," Finn adds. "Alden. It's okay. We manage. Even if you'd said no to retiring, we still would have managed."
"Oh yes?" Alden traces Finn's face with a hand. "And how miserable would you have been?"
"I wouldn't have been miserable all the time." Finn's eyes drift shut. "I can't be, with you."
"But some of the time." Alden kisses his forehead. "More so than if I hadn't agreed to try."
"Thank you for doing that," Finn says softly. "I know it's hard."
Alden swallows. "Can't say no," he whispers. "Tried. Thank you for the compromise. I-I don't want to be so fucking terrified at not being able to say no."
"And I don't want to keep you caged," Finn says softly. "I just want to keep you alive."
"I understand," Alden whispers. "I. Sorry I'm so fucked up, Finn." He laughs quietly.
"Yes," Finn agrees ruefully, and kisses his mouth to stop the laughter. "But you're mine."
Alden shivers, and presses his face to Finn's shoulder, and whispers, for perhaps the first time in his life, "Yours."
"Love you," Finn whispers, arms circling around him. "So very much, my Alden."
Alden feels another shiver go through him. "Yours," he whispers again, and nuzzles at Finn's throat.
It draws a little whimper out of Finn, and his head tilts back. "And you know that I'm yours," he whispers. "Entirely."
"Yes," Alden murmurs, because there's no question about that, the way Finn goes pliant under his mouth and hands. "Mine."
Finn gives a little murmur of agreement, pressing up against him, and they sink down onto the bed.
They've been on the ship for a few days, and that's very nice. Alden seems to prefer being on the ship, even when they have shore leave; he tells Finn he doesn't like sand, and grins and flops down on a deck chair to sun himself.
A few days in, it is an especially warm day and he does this without a shirt on.
Very shortly afterwards, Finn is treated to the sight of Alden wearing a t-shirt and a glum expression on his strangely red face. Finn is playing cards with Val, who does like beaches but appears to like cards more, but Alden, with scarcely a word of apology, drags Finn away from his game.
"You sunburned, didn't you," Finn says gleefully. "You forgot and you sunburned." Alden's been laughing at him for putting sunscreen on every morning-though he doesn't seem to mind helping Finn put it on.
"Shut up," Alden says irritably as they leave the rec room and go out onto open deck. "I just forgot, all right?"
"Of course you did. I've told you to put sunscreen on."
"Doesn't mean I'm going to listen," Alden mumbles, and though he doesn't smile it's obviously meant at least somewhat jokingly.
"I don't think I can repair an entire layer of skin."
"Yeah. I already tried." Alden glares at his own shoulder. "Think of it. I can snatch people from the brink of death, and I can't bloody well get rid of a sunburn."
"You can't cure the common cold, either," Finn says cheerfully. "Give it a few days. You'll peel."
"That's undignified," Alden protests. "Can't you do something?"
"No, Alden, I can't. Well, I could rub aloe on you or something, but that just gets rid of the itching."
"Dammit." Alden rubs his forehead and winces. "My face, my shoulders, my collarbones, my back. Bloody hell."
"How did you manage to burn your front and your back?" Finn asks curiously.
"Sitting up," Alden says. "Reading a book. Then I turned over. Nice and crispy all round."
"Like in an oven," Finn agrees. "And you didn't notice?"
"It was a good book," Alden says defensively.
"You'll have to lend it to me. Anyway, come on back to the room and I can put lotion on it or something. You look like a lobster." He considers this for a moment, and says disappointedly, "You know, this probably means we can't have-"
"Oh yes we can," Alden says fiercely. "Sunburns are nothing."
"You're going to take that back," Finn murmurs. "I can almost guarantee it."
"If we ignore the sunburned bits I'm sure we can manage," Alden says practically, and follows Finn back inside and down a staircase towards their room.
"Let's deal with those bits first," Finn says, when they're safely ensconced in their quarters, which are rather more cramped than the ones back at Headquarters.
It's sort of nice, actually. Partly because Alden keeps randomly pouncing him. Not at the moment, though. Alden sits down rather dejectedly on the bed and strips his shirt, sighing. Bright red shoulders. That looks painful.
Finn fetches some aloe from the bathroom and sits down behind him. "That's nasty," he murmurs, rubbing some into Alden's shoulders.
Alden hisses quietly. "Yes," he murmurs, "rather."
"Sorry. It's going to sting, rather."
"I can tell," Alden murmurs, and shrugs slightly. "No matter. It was stupid of me."
"Yes, it was," Finn agrees. "Turn around so I can get your chest and face. Ooh, and you burned your ears, too."
"Of course," Alden says sarcastically, turning round. "And thank you for the great confidence and support."
"I told you to use suntan lotion! You didn't listen," Finn says sternly. "And you had it all over your hands anyway."
"What, I had suntan lotion all over my hands?"
"Yes. Because you'd been very enthusiastically helping me put it on," Finn says dryly, rubbing aloe into Alden's ears.
"Yes," Alden agrees dryly. "It was an excuse to touch you, shockingly enough. Don't know why you didn't do the same for me, come to that."
"Because you said you didn't need suntan lotion, you wouldn't let yourself get burned." Finn leans up and kisses his mouth very gently. "And now look at you."
"Mff. Rather not," Alden mumbles. "Really hideous shade of red."
"Lobster red."
"Lobsters are hideous," Alden says firmly, "and you're not helping."
"Yes I am. Look, doesn't that feel better?" Finn sits back.
Alden sighs and looks at him. "Yes. Very well. Much better. I'm still bright red."
"I can't fix that." Finn flops back on the bed, banishing the bottle and closing his eyes.
"You don't seem very repentant," Alden murmurs.
"I warned you. You didn't listen."
"Yes, but." Finn can feel Alden make a frustrated little movement. "You're just scolding me for it."
"There isn't much else I can do."
"Yes there is," Alden mumbles.
"Oh?" Finn opens one eye. "What?"
"I don't know," Alden says, rather frustrated. "Just. Not bloody well this. Just a sunburn, Finn, and-you're treating it important in ways I don't want it to be and unimportant in ways I do."
"Then you'll have to enumerate how I'm supposed to treat it," Finn says. "Because this is how I always got treated when I sunburned."
"You're treating it as something that's my fault and something that shouldn't be touched!" Alden returns, annoyed.
"Alden, you don't want me to touch your sunburn. Especially not one that bad."
"I don't care," Alden says impatiently. "So I'm to wait two or three days before you'll touch me?"
Finn sighs and sits up. He sets his hands on Alden's chest, pushing him over back onto the bed. And even though he's kissing Alden, he's willing to bet that the combined feeling of the sheets on his back and Finn pressing down on his front isn't going to be tolerable.
Alden makes a small pained noise and shoves Finn away. "All right," he gasps. "You've bloody well made your point, and you bloody well know there's other ways to do this."
Finn tumbles back on the bed. "And what do you expect me to do if I can't even kiss you?"
"You can," Alden says quietly. "Just-just don't touch me where I'm burned."
"Alden, you're burned down to your waist on both sides," Finn says softly. "I can't touch you without hurting you."
"Yes you can," Alden says fiercely, and there's something nearly desperate in his face. "Please, Finn."
Finn can't understand the desperation, or how it's gone from sunburn to this, but he sits up again and very carefully kisses Alden's mouth.
Alden relaxes a little, kissing him in return and winding his hands through Finn's hair.
After a few moments, Finn pulls back a little. "I don't want to hurt you," he says quietly.
"It's fine," Alden says. "Just think about touch, Finn. Not hurt."
"That doesn't make sense!" he says, frustrated, hand clenching.
Alden makes a little choked noise. "You're more important," he says fiercely.
Finn drops his hands. "When did this get bigger than a sunburn?" he whispers.
"I don't know," Alden says, and now he won't meet Finn's eyes. "I wanted us to have time right now, when we don't have to be running from anything, and-and I thought there must still be parts of me that didn't believe this will work. I'm wrong. I think it will. I don't know what this has to do with a sunburn, but I want you to touch me."
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Finn reaches out, sliding around a little so he can run his fingers over Alden's back, which isn't quite as badly sunburned as the rest.
Alden shivers, ducks his head. He makes another small involuntary noise that just borders on pain.
"Don't want to hurt you," Finn whispers unhappily, though he doesn't move his hands away. "It makes me wonder if it's going to be this way for as long as we're working here. Reminders of pain even in the calm times."
"Oh yes," Alden says, drawing a hitching breath, "it's a metaphorical sunburn now."
"You know what I meant," Finn says quietly.
"Yes," Alden whispers, "and you're wrong, Finn, because this isn't pain. It hurts, yes, but-isn't pain." He takes Finn's face in his hands, gives him a shaky smile. "I never show pain, Finn. They slice my shoulder to bits and I don't scream. A sunburn's nothing. But I-I want you to know I feel. Don't hide things from you."
Finn knows his eyes have gone wide and his breathing's gone uneven, the way it does whenever he remembers what they've done to Alden. His Alden, who he takes in his arms now, shivering despite the warm Caribbean air.
Alden makes another small noise and presses his burning face to Finn's shoulder, arms wrapped just as tight around Finn. He's shaking because the sunburn does hurt a little and he isn't trying to hide it.
Why did you choose me? Finn thinks wonderingly, stroking Alden's back gently, tries to send soothing, cool little tendrils into the skin beneath his fingers.
Alden sighs, relaxing against him; evidently the bits of coolness are helping. He presses a soft kiss to Finn's shoulder through the cloth of his shirt.
"I'll touch you," Finn says quietly, "But I do want you to take it easy for a few days, okay?"
Alden laughs against his neck. "Agreed."
"Thank you. And in return I won't tell Val that you're crispy."
"Yes, he might douse me in barbeque sauce," Alden murmurs wryly.
Finn blinks at the opposite wall.
The other man laughs again. "Joke, Finn."
"I know, but I didn't need the mental image."
"I suppose not."
Finn laughs and leans back. "Get some rest, unless you want to go soak in the pool."
Alden makes a discontented little sound and pushes Finn over backwards.
"Alden-" The protest doesn't even get finished. Because Alden is kissing him fiercely, pressed close against Finn, hands tight on his shoulders, completely silent and shaking slightly still.
Finn raises his hands, resting them very lightly against Alden's shoulders, still confused as to what exactly has done this to Alden. It's only a sunburn. It shouldn't mean anything more than that.
"No," Alden whispers, pulling away enough to say it against his lips. "No, God, Finn, please don't be gentle."
"I'm not going to hurt you," he returns fiercely. "Everyone hurts you, Alden, and I'm not going to if I can help it, and if I'm not gentle right now it's going to hurt like hell."
"Don't care," Alden whispers, and pulls back a bit more, looking down at Finn very seriously. "You know the real reason I do it? Let myself get into such dangerous places, let myself be hurt? Because I can feel then. And-" he swallows hard. "Even making love sometimes it's hard to feel. Did it so much when it meant nothing that I still start going numb, on reflex." He squeezes his eyes shut. "And-God, I'd feel this, Finn. There are bad hurts and good hurts."
It takes a few seconds for him to be able to breathe again, and then Finn launches forward, reversing their positions.
He wouldn't be able to if Alden wasn't letting him, of course, he reflects unhappily as he presses Alden back into the bed, kissing him fiercely.
Alden cries out, clutches at Finn's shoulders, returns the kiss with equal intensity. His skin under Finn's fingers feels feverish.
"I don't want to hurt you," Finn mumbles against his mouth, as his fingers unfasten Alden's trousers. "I don't like hurting you, dammit."
"God," Alden whispers, his breath coming in frantic little bursts, arching up against Finn's hands. "God, Finn."
"I don't like it when you're hurt," he whispers, trailing kisses along Alden's collarbone, down his chest and stomach.
"Don't-don't mind when it's you," Alden whispers shakily. He can't seem to know what to do with his hands; one moment they're grasping frantically at the sheets, the next in Finn's hair, twisting just slightly too tight.
"You don't understand," Finn says sadly, but doesn't finish the thought, just slides a little lower and takes Alden in his mouth, which makes speech, thankfully, impossible.
"But-" Alden starts to whisper, question or protest, and then his hands in Finn's hair go a little tighter and he just says "Finn," helpless and frantic.
Finn settles his hands on Alden's hips, undamaged by the sun, and concentrates on distracting Alden from any sort of pain.
Whatever Alden might have been thinking, it seems that he's quite distracted from everything now; he whispers Finn's name, over and again, trembling, and the name goes ragged, turns into a wordless moan, Alden's hands in Finn's hair going painfully tight.
Finn draws back, swallowing, eyes flickering sadly up and down Alden's shivering form.
"God," Alden whispers helplessly after a moment. "Finn." He turns his head a little to blink up at Finn with a rather stunned look.
Finn smiles wanly at him and fetches a light blanket from the closet, draping it across Alden's hips. "Best if you rested for a bit," he says quietly. "Don't want you going back outside with that."
Alden makes a vague protesting movement. "What about you?"
"I'm fine." Finn kisses his forehead. "I'm just going to play cards with Val, if he's still up there."
A lost look flickers across Alden's face for a moment, but he only nods.
"I told you I didn't want to hurt you," Finn says softly. "But I guess I do anyway. I need to think."
"It's fine," Alden murmurs, and rolls onto his stomach, wincing slightly. "Go on. I'm tired anyway. All this on top of lying in the sun for hours."
"All right." Finn shuts off the light, though there is still plenty coming in from the glass door leading onto the balcony. "I'll be back in a few hours."
"Kay," Alden whispers. "G'bye, then."
"I'll see you in a bit." Finn's voice goes oddly tight, and he shuts the door behind him.
Really what he wants to do is curl up and hide somewhere, but that isn't exactly an option.
Alden lies there for a long while without sleeping. He feels a dull ache everywhere; in the places he's sunburned, it's physical, but everywhere else it's something deeper. There's a part of him Finn can't possibly understand, and it's hurting both of them in a way that makes Alden's chest feel strangely tight.
When he falls asleep, it's restless, and in the middle of it he gets a pounding headache without wakening.
Soothing coolness reaches in, lessening the burning and easing the pain in his head, and when Alden opens his eyes Finn is there, fingers resting against his temples, face set.
"'Lo," Alden croaks, and winces. "Did I sleep long?"
"About three hours," Finn murmurs, and sits back. "How do you feel?"
"Ow," Alden says succinctly.
Finn laughs and touches his head. There's an odd, lingering sadness about him. "Do you want anything?"
"You," Alden says without thinking, and shakes his head. "Water."
Finn conjures him a glass, helping him to sit up.
"'S okay, don't need help," Alden mutters, but he takes the glass very thankfully and drinks the whole thing, still feeling rather dizzy. Having finished, he asks, "Do sunburns dehydrate one?"
"Yes."
"Damn," Alden murmurs. "C'n I have a bit more?"
Finn nods and refills his glass. "As much as you need."
"This should be fine," Alden murmurs, and drinks it, and though he still feels rather dizzy when it's gone, he doesn't feel horribly thirsty anymore. "Did you trounce Val at cards?"
"Rather. Then we played Go Fish with Albion for a bit, and he won all every time."
Alden grins. "He always wins. Glad to hear he's in form."
"I'd never met him before. Is he a friend of yours?"
"Yeah." Alden scratches at his shoulder and winces when a layer of skin peels off, smarting. "I had to guard him for a research mission in a war zone, and afterwards we stayed in touch."
Finn nods. "Do you want more lotion for that?"
"Might be nice."
Another nod, and Finn retrieves the lotion and begins rubbing it into his shoulders, back, and chest.
Alden sighs, closes his eyes. This at least is still okay. Still intact. Just because he's fucked up doesn't mean some things aren't okay.
"I do wish you'd be more careful," Finn says quietly, hands soothing on his skin. "You're always getting hurt."
"Told you why," Alden mumbles. Doesn't apologise. No point.
"I know." Finn's voice is tight. "I don't like it. I hate it when you're hurt, Alden, and you always fucking are."
"Told you why," Alden repeats steadily.
"I know. Is it always going to be like this?" Finn asks unhappily. "Is it always going to be you getting hurt and me trying to make it better without succeeding?"
"Don't understand why you need to," Alden whispers, and looks back at him. "Not all the time. I've handled it for years."
"You handled it alone!" Finn's face is hurt, angry. "But I'm here now, and it doesn't have to hurt. You just don't know anything else anymore."
Alden looks away. "Right. Okay. What's better?"
Finn kisses his cheek. "Not being hurt," he murmurs. "Being a little more careful. It doesn't take much. You have to let me help you."
"But Finn," Alden says helplessly. "That's how I feel. Even now I've got you. Still, sometimes-"
"I know," Finn says unhappily. "But I wish you wouldn't go running into things and getting yourself so hurt. And I'm not talking about sunburn."
"I know." Alden ducks his head, staring at his own hands. Dammit. "Someone has to do it."
"It doesn't always have to be you."
"Oh yes?" Alden looks back up, rather despairingly. "Who?"
"The entire rest of the organisation!" Finn says angrily, fists clenching. "Someone else! We can't do this forever, Alden!"
Alden blinks, feeling a bit lost suddenly. "Can't do what?"
"We can't be fighting diplomats forever," Finn says quietly.
"Oh," Alden says, quite blankly, and-"What else is there, Finn?"
"Retirement," Finn says, blinking. "Other diplomatic work, on the homeworld. A bit less dangerous, but still useful."
"But."
Alden can't conceive it. "No. No, I'd go quite mad."
"I don't want to watch you die," Finn whispers bleakly. "I'm not saying you should retire anytime soon, Alden. But you can't stay until you're as old as Val. You'll die."
"And?" Alden touches Finn's face softly. "Better than dying very old in a bed because I'm too weak to move farther than the loo. I don't want to ever become like that."
"When, then?" Finn whispers. "You're forty-five, Alden. How many years do I get before you're too old for this, and it kills you?"
"At least twenty," Alden says quietly. "That's half again as old as you are now, lad."
"You don't know that," Finn whispers. "That's if you're lucky." His head is bowed, and when he looks up his face is twisted with anger like Alden's never seen.
"Finn," Alden says steadily. "I can't do otherwise."
"You're going to make me watch you die!" Finn cries, catching his shoulders.
Alden swallows hard. "You don't know that," he whispers.
"Yes I do," Finn snaps angrily. "Because it's always you who throws yourself into the middle of things, and it's always you who gets hurt. And you're going to die. I'm going to have to watch you die."
"You don't know that," Alden says again, fiercely. "And-and you don't know me if you think I'm-" He swallows hard. "I can't quit just because you tell me to, Finn. Remember? I can't."
"I know," Finn whispers, and crumples, curling up on the bed, face hidden.
"No matter how much I want to," Alden murmurs. "I'd do it in an instant. Let this place go. Go with you. And I'd die of it instead."
"I don't understand," Finn whispers, voice shaking. Alden knows that he's crying. "I don't understand why it wouldn't be enough. Still being useful, even if it's not here. I don't understand why I have to watch you die."
"I can't live like that," Alden says helplessly, and swallows. "I can't get that old, Finn. I-have to go down burning. Wouldn't be me anymore."
And Finn's crumpled there, and right. Finn is going to watch him die, one day.
"God, Finn. I'm so sorry."
Finn's body convulses, and he sobs, painful sobs that wrack his whole body.
Alden settles trembling hands on Finn's back. "I'm sorry," he whispers again helplessly. Can't do anything more. His sunburn is wholly forgotten, but he can't think of what might help Finn now.
"I don't want to watch you die," Finn sobs, curling tighter.
"Might not," Alden says, and winces. Isn't right at all. "I can't promise you won't, Finn. I'm sorry. I can't."
"I will," Finn whispers, shaking with tears. "I will."
"Finn," Alden says, nearly angrily, and puts both hands firmly on Finn's shoulders, pulling him up a little. "Then what the hell are you wasting your time now for crying about it?"
"So I don't then," Finn mumbles. "Because I won't be able to. Because you won't want me to die when you do."
"Not if you can help it," Alden whispers, and swallows. "Finn. I asked you. So long ago. What happens when one of us dies? You didn't think."
Finn makes a wrenching little noise and darts forward, kisses him with wet cheeks and lips that taste like tears. He pulls away before Alden can respond, curling up again, whispering something.
"Finn," Alden says despairingly. "Please. Don't shut yourself out for this."
"What do you expect me to do?" he mumbles.
"Just carry on," Alden says fiercely. "Doesn't make a difference."
"Only for you," Finn whispers sadly. "Let me be for a bit, Alden. If I have to lose you. If you won't settle for anything less-at least give me this time. When we know nothing's going to happen."
"I am giving you this time," Alden whispers. "Why do you think I'm spending every waking moment with you? I have to."
"You don't have to do anything," Finn says quietly. "You just think you do."
"I do," Alden whispers, looking down. "No point otherwise. I do."
"I know," Finn whispers, and then goes silent. Alden doesn't need to look to see the tears.
"I'm sorry," Alden says again, very quietly. "Finn. I can't change myself. Not even for this."
"I know," Finn whispers. "I know. I'm not allowed to try and change you. God fucking damn it, Alden, why is it always like this? Why is it always pain, always death, always going down in flames? Why are we never allowed to be happy? Why the fuck can't you let yourself have that?"
"I told you," Alden mutters, stares down at his hands. "Never learned how. And-I am happy, Finn. I'm happy with you. I've learned that much. That's all I can do."
"That's all you let yourself do," Finn mumbles, and falls silent.
"Oh yes?" Alden says, and swallows hard because he doesn't want to be angry with Finn, especially not when Finn is so crumpled and broken like this, and yet he is angry, and he hates that. "Yes, thank you for knowing exactly how fucked-up I am. Brilliant."
"Am I not supposed to know you?" Finn shoots back, rolling over and sitting up at glaring at him through his tears.
"I just don't know why you presume to know this!" Alden snarls.
Finn goes completely still. "Do I?" he asks softly. "Do I presume?"
"Oh God," Alden whispers, and buries his face in his hands. "Sorry. I warned you I'm no good at this."
Thought I'd got over worrying, though, he thinks miserably.
He feels Finn reach out for him, but the hand falls away, and the bed shifts as Finn gets up, heads into the bathroom to wash the tear stains away.
Dammit, Alden thinks faintly, staying exactly where he is. No point in running after Finn. He doesn't want to yell. He doesn't want them angry.
He doesn't want to die.
Alden blinks through the space between his fingers. Neither of them want him to die.
Not yet. He doesn't want to get old, either.
Finn doesn't come out for a long, long time. Alden has the impression that he's staring in the mirror.
Alden merely sits on the bed, tapping a little rhythm on his leg. He feels rather as though he should go after Finn, but he's paralysed with old fears. Getting this wrong; getting old; giving in.
After a while Finn comes out, but not back to the bed; he pulls open the sliding door and lets himself out onto the balcony, the warm Caribbean breeze tugging at his hair as he leans on the railing.
Alden swallows and gets up and comes out to the balcony with him, staring down at the water below them, a brilliant green-blue, lapping serenely against the hull of the ship. The others should be coming back from their day on the beach soon.
Finn's silent, watching the water. He isn't crying anymore, but there's none of the peace that marked their first few days aboard ship.
"Finn," Alden says helplessly, after a long while.
"Hmm?"
"Look," Alden says, and takes a shaky breath. "I don't know what to say to make it better. Not the faintest fucking clue. But I don't want this either. Whatever it is. I hate it."
"I can't ask it of you," Finn whispers. "I can't. So I have to just... try and make sure there's time."
Alden ducks his head, rakes a hand through his hair. "I suppose the question is, will it hurt you more when I die on mission than it would hurt me if we retired?"
"We can't know, can we?" Finn murmurs. "We could-we could try retiring, in ten years or so, if nothing happens in that time. You'll be about as old then as Val is now, and it's possible you might start getting affected by transport the way he is. But if retirement doesn't suit you, then we can come back, and-and do it your way."
Alden takes a shaky breath. "Fair enough," he whispers. "Yes. We can try that."
"Thank you," Finn murmurs, and turns, cupping Alden's face lightly in his hands. His eyes are soft. "It means so much to me, Alden, that you would. And you mean so much..."
Alden smiles, a small, tremulous smile. "You upset my worldview so," he whispers. "I'm in love and I'm staying in love. I've just agreed to retire. Agreed to giving getting old a try. Finn, what are you doing to me?"
Finn laughs, and kisses him lightly. "I love you," he says simply, against Alden's lips.
Alden steps closer, wraps his arms firmly around Finn's waist, and in turn kisses Finn, not lightly at all.
And Finn makes a little whimpering noise, hands slipping around to curl in the hair at the base of Alden's neck. His lips still taste faintly of tears, and he presses close as possible.
Alden explores his mouth thoroughly, then pulls back and whispers against Finn's cheek, "I'm sorry, Finn, so sorry, you know I'm no good at this-"
"Shh, it's all right. I love you even for that, Alden."
"Mad," Alden murmurs. "I made you cry, Finn. You can't love me for that."
"I sound so pathetic when you put it that way," Finn mumbles wryly. "No, not for that. But I still love you, even when I'm unhappy with you."
Alden laughs quietly. "But not the parts of me that have no idea what the hell they're doing. My mind, for example."
"Nah, your mind works fine." Finn kisses his cheek.
"Not about this it doesn't," Alden counters, drawing Finn back into the room in case they forget themselves and end up falling off the balcony or something equally embarrassing.
Not that they couldn't catch themselves in midair, but it's the principle of the thing. Finn follows him silently.
"'m sorry," Alden murmurs again, ducks to kiss Finn's shoulder. "I'm so stupid about this."
"It's a hard thing to talk about," Finn says quietly.
"No," Alden says, looking back up. "I mean any of it. I don't mean it's difficult to talk about, I mean I get it wrong."
"But it's hard to say what is right or wrong, in this." Finn touches his face. "And you always second-guess yourself when it comes to this, too."
"Because you tell me there's other things," Alden mumbles, "and I can't see them. They must be there for you. Either you're hallucinating or I'm blind."
"Or you haven't known them," Finn adds. "Alden. It's okay. We manage. Even if you'd said no to retiring, we still would have managed."
"Oh yes?" Alden traces Finn's face with a hand. "And how miserable would you have been?"
"I wouldn't have been miserable all the time." Finn's eyes drift shut. "I can't be, with you."
"But some of the time." Alden kisses his forehead. "More so than if I hadn't agreed to try."
"Thank you for doing that," Finn says softly. "I know it's hard."
Alden swallows. "Can't say no," he whispers. "Tried. Thank you for the compromise. I-I don't want to be so fucking terrified at not being able to say no."
"And I don't want to keep you caged," Finn says softly. "I just want to keep you alive."
"I understand," Alden whispers. "I. Sorry I'm so fucked up, Finn." He laughs quietly.
"Yes," Finn agrees ruefully, and kisses his mouth to stop the laughter. "But you're mine."
Alden shivers, and presses his face to Finn's shoulder, and whispers, for perhaps the first time in his life, "Yours."
"Love you," Finn whispers, arms circling around him. "So very much, my Alden."
Alden feels another shiver go through him. "Yours," he whispers again, and nuzzles at Finn's throat.
It draws a little whimper out of Finn, and his head tilts back. "And you know that I'm yours," he whispers. "Entirely."
"Yes," Alden murmurs, because there's no question about that, the way Finn goes pliant under his mouth and hands. "Mine."
Finn gives a little murmur of agreement, pressing up against him, and they sink down onto the bed.