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Sage felt his shoulders relax when Alessandro didn't seem upset by the mention of needing a phone or anything along those lines. He nodded as he suggested something he could wear, so he could call for help if he didn't have his phone or he couldn't see well enough to open it up. "That would be a good idea," he agreed, mind working now that something was happening. He still didn't like all of it. But he had help now. Maybe ...maybe it wouldn't be so hard. Maybe things would be ok. At the mention of alarms, he nodded, humming softly. "I can put some on the phone," he agreed, knowing Alessandro would probably put the same ones on his own device. Just in case. He appreciated that. When alessandro moved his hand over, it took nearly all of sages self control to not just reach over and grab it. As it was, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab hold of him and never let go. When he started talking though, he focused on his voice. The words he was saying. He nodded slowly, agreeing to what he was saying. "Alright," he noted. "I can do that." He'd have to. And....he did want the help. At the compliment though, he let out a soft breath, shifting to reach for Alessandro's hand. He heasitated briefly, gaze flicking to him to make sure he didn't pull away. Stiffen. Anything like that. When he didn't, he laced their fingers together. It was a light touch. One that would be easy to pull away from at the first sight of trouble. Alessandro could make it former if he wanted ...but nerves had suddenly twisted in sages gut, wondering if he'd made the right choice here. |
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Alessandro felt the hesitation before he saw it—the pause, the careful glance, the way Sage’s fingers hovered as if testing the air for danger. When Sage’s hand finally touched his, lacing their fingers together, Alessandro didn’t pull away. He didn’t tighten his grip either. Not at first. He let the contact exist as it was—light, tentative, something offered rather than taken. His thumb shifted almost imperceptibly, resting against Sage’s knuckle, a quiet acknowledgment more than a claim. “You did,” he said softly, answering the question Sage hadn’t spoken. His eyes stayed on the road, but his attention didn’t waver from the moment. “Make the right choice, I mean. You don’t have to be sure about anything else yet.” The car moved smoothly through traffic, the city passing by in muted streaks of light and glass. Alessandro’s voice stayed low, steady, grounding. “We go at your pace,” he continued. “Always. If you want space, you take it. If you need a hand—” a small pause, meaningful now “—you already know where to find one.” Only then did his fingers close just a fraction more, not trapping, not demanding—just enough to be unmistakably there. “And for what it’s worth,” he added, almost casually, “I wouldn’t let you do this alone even if you tried.” He didn’t look over. He didn’t need to. |
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Sage practically melted against the seat when Alessandro didn't mind the whole holding hands thing. He hadn't seemed like a guy who really wanted a lot of physical touch. Sage, on the other hand, craved it. It was odd....after his father and Casper he was heasitant to touch anyone. Heasitant to be close to people. But at the same time those creature comforts were important to him. He liked them. A lot. That was probably why he'd curled up with Blitz at night, especially when his head hurt. The run of Alessandro's finger along his knuckles reassured him though, and he tightened his grip slightly, now sure he doesn't need to pull away or anything like that. Good. When the other man spoke up, he glanced over at him, lips parting slightly in surprise. He offered him a smile though, and nodded when he said he could take what space he wanted. "That's good to know," he noted softly. He was clearly relieved about it all, and even just holding Alessandro's hand seemed to perk him up a bit after the doctors. His little comment about knowing where to find a hand pulled a laugh from him too, though, and he grinned over at him. "I know where to find both of them," he noted teasingly. "But while you're driving I suppose I can settle with one," he added, eyes glittering. The last comment hit home though. He squeezed his hand gently, murmuring a soft thanks. He relaxed against the seat then, closing his eyes as they moved. Just....relaxing a bit. There was no need to worry. Not really. When they got back to the house, he slipped out of the car and immediately rejoined Alessandro's side, taking his hand again, this time a little more firmly, as they moved back inside. |
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Alessandro felt it—the way Sage softened once the contact settled, the way tension drained out of him like it had finally found somewhere safe to go. He didn’t comment on it. He just adjusted, letting his hand stay where it was meant to be. Sage’s teasing earned him a quiet huff of amusement. “Careful,” Alessandro replied dryly, though there was warmth threaded through it now. “I might start thinking you’re trouble.” He didn’t say it like a warning. When Sage squeezed his hand, Alessandro answered in kind—not tighter, not possessive, just steady. Present. The kind of touch that said I’m still here without demanding anything back. He let Sage rest, eyes closed, and drove the rest of the way in silence. At the house, Alessandro was out of the car and around to Sage’s side before he could overthink it. When Sage reached for his hand again—this time without hesitation—Alessandro accepted it easily, fingers closing with quiet certainty. Inside, Stryker was already on his feet, tail swaying once in approval. Blitz circled them both, clearly pleased with the reunion. Alessandro didn’t let go as they walked. “You should eat something,” he said gently, not looking down at Sage but clearly aware of him at his side. “Then rest. We’ll take the day slow.” He paused at the threshold of the hall, finally glancing over. “And Sage?” His voice lowered, just enough to make it personal. “You don’t have to hover. You can move around the house. It’s yours to breathe in.” He gave Sage’s hand a small, grounding squeeze—subtle, deliberate. Then he led them forward, unhurried, as if this—walking back into the house together—was exactly where things were supposed to be. |
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Sage snorted in response to Alessandros comment about being trouble, sliding him and amused glance. "Trouble, huh," he mused. "Maybe I am trouble," he added with a grin. A pause. A sideways look. "What are you gonna do, punish me?" It was said with a sky grin, a soft purr to his voice that he knew would file Alessandro up. Just a little bit. They didn't have a whole lot of time ....they had scans later, after all, but.....hey, why not? His stomach rumbled when he mentioned food though, and he nodded in agreement. It was lunch time....so they probably should eat before they had other things to go do. It was a smart choice. "Yeah, we should make something up," he agreed with a slight wrinkle to his nose, letting Alessandro tug him gently towards the kitchen. He felt a smile, this one softer, form on his face when the other man's voice softened. "I know," he noted simply. "I'll start snooping around after we eat something," he added with a laugh, moving towards the fridge once they entered the kitchen . |
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Alessandro’s lips twitched at the purr in Sage’s voice, the teasing in that grin, but he didn’t let it break his composure. Not fully. Instead, he let a small, almost imperceptible smirk form, the kind that only appeared when he was amused without feeling the need to announce it. “Punish you?” he echoed, his tone low, controlled, almost casual—but the corners of his eyes softened slightly. He leaned close to Sage's ear, a few centimeters away before whispering “I don't think you can handle it”. He then leaned away again. He kept his hand gently linked with Sage’s as they moved toward the kitchen, guiding him with quiet assurance. There was a weight to it, deliberate, like a grounding presence. At Sage’s acknowledgment about lunch, Alessandro nodded, reaching for the pantry. “Good. Fuel first. The rest can wait.” He began pulling ingredients for something simple but solid, setting them on the counter, still keeping one eye on Sage as he started poking around the fridge. “You snoop,” Alessandro said quietly, almost teasingly, “but don’t touch anything I don’t say you can.” He kept it light, but there was that same undertone of controlled authority that always accompanied him. Blitz padded closer to Sage as he laughed, resting his head against his leg, while Stryker leaned into Alessandro’s side, tail thumping. Alessandro gave a brief glance down at the wolf, a faint smile tugging at his lips, before turning back to Sage. “You’ll get your answers,” he added softly, chopping vegetables with methodical precision, “just… after we eat. No empty stomachs make good decisions.” The subtle amusement lingered in his voice, tempered by the same calm that always seemed to surround him. It was quiet, controlled, but there was warmth there—something Sage could feel if he paid attention. |
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Sage had snickered softly when Alessandro first reacted to his comment. His pulse had sped up when he paused walking and stuck his face close to his own. I don't think you could handle it. He paused, face turning scarlet as the other man's voice etched itself into his mind, thoughts flying to all the things he supposedly "couldn't handle". He hugged out a breath, hurrying after Alessandro as he kept moving again. "I could too," he grumbled, but by then they'd entered the kitchen and he'd moved to the fridge. He groaned when Alessandro just said he'd get his answers later, chipping up food. "You're so boring," he huffed, though he knew, deep down, he was right. He had just been told by the doctor to eat well, after all. He should probably listen. He did find himself eyeing Alessandro while he worked though, sort of just standing by the fridge. The steady way he moved about the kitchen, the quiet control he had over the kitchen. He quite liked it. And he was getting a little impatient. |
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Alessandro caught the snicker before he saw the color bloom across Sage’s face, and that alone was almost worth it. Almost. He’d leaned in on instinct—controlled, deliberate—but the reaction had lingered longer than he expected. The sharp intake of breath. The way Sage hurried after him, grumbling like he hadn’t just been thoroughly undone by a single sentence. I could too, Sage had said. Alessandro didn’t turn around, but the corner of his mouth twitched. In the kitchen, he kept his hands busy on purpose. Knife, board, ingredients—things that obeyed. Things that didn’t look back at him with that mix of challenge and heat. He listened to Sage complain, file it away, and ignored it with practiced ease. “You confuse boring with disciplined,” Alessandro replied calmly, chopping vegetables with precise, efficient movements. “A common mistake.” He felt Sage’s gaze without looking. He always did. It was a weight, a pull at the back of his awareness, different from the way people usually watched him. Less fear. More curiosity. Want. That was… new. He reached for another ingredient, movements steady, unhurried. Letting the silence stretch just enough to make it noticeable. To make Sage wait. “You’re supposed to eat,” Alessandro continued, tone even, as if Sage weren’t practically vibrating behind him. “Not stare holes through my back.” Only then did he glance over his shoulder, brief but pointed—eyes dark, assessing, catching Sage in the act. He turned back to his work before Sage could respond, but not before he allowed himself one quiet thought, sharp and controlled: Careful. Not for Sage. For himself. |
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Sage had rolled his eyes in response to alessandros comment about being disciplined. 'oh please, you're doing that well enough for the both of us," he huffed. A small pause. "Maybe it's time you let loose for a little bit." The other man's back was turned, but the suggestion was there. And he wasn't taking it back. He did find a few nice looking things of veggies in the fridge though, so he slid them along the counter towards where alessandro was already working on something else. It looked like they'd just be having a salad, with some sort of meat on the side. Chicken maybe. Or turkey? He wasn't sure. He didn't especially care either, he supposed. He chuckled softly when alessandro chided him for staring and not eating, closing the fridge with an amused. "Fine, fine," wandering over beside him and starting to place lettuce and chopped up stuff into bowls for the two of them. He did sneak Blitz little pieces of chicken now and again as he worked, much to the wolfs delight. He wasn't sure if that was allowed, but whatever. There was no reason not to. Once the salads were made, he sat down , wasting no time in going through the meal as fast as possible. He finished before alessandro did, so he just reclined in the chair, watching him finish with a mischevious glint in his eyes. When he finished, he sort of raised his eyebrows slightly, humming a nice little purr of "you done being boring now that we've eaten?" His response was calculated, which earned a groan from sage. A small grumble. "Gonna make me do all the work?" He didn't mind. |
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Alessandro heard it—the suggestion wrapped in casual words, the challenge tucked beneath humor—and his hands paused for exactly half a second before resuming their steady rhythm. “Let loose,” he repeated, quietly amused, as he accepted the vegetables Sage slid his way without comment. “You make it sound like a switch.” He watched Sage move around the kitchen from the corner of his eye: too comfortable for someone who’d been a prisoner days ago, too quick to settle into the space. It should have concerned him more than it did. When Sage joined him at the counter, assembling salads with an ease that bordered on domestic, Alessandro allowed it. Allowed the proximity. The shared task. He even allowed the quiet rhythm of it to settle—until he caught Blitz being slipped pieces of chicken. His gaze flicked down, sharp. “Blitz,” Alessandro said calmly, not raising his voice. A warning more than a scold. The wolf froze, ears tipping back, then accepted the rest of the treat anyway with Sage’s encouragement. Alessandro exhaled through his nose. “You’re going to ruin his discipline.” The irony was not lost on him. They sat to eat. Sage, predictably, finished first—too fast, barely tasting it—then leaned back like he owned the chair, the room, the moment. Alessandro took his time on purpose, finishing only when he was ready, setting his fork down neatly. Then came the look. The raised brows. The purr of a question that was anything but innocent. Alessandro leaned back in his own chair, slow and deliberate, folding his hands loosely in his lap. His gaze met Sage’s and held, unreadable. “Boring,” he said evenly, “is keeping you fed, upright, and alive.” A pause. Not breaking eye contact. “If I ever let loose,” he added quietly, “you won’t have to ask.” He stood, taking his bowl to the sink, leaving Sage with that—and the very clear sense that Alessandro knew exactly what he was doing. And was choosing restraint anyway. |
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Afternoon Storms, then Clearing
