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Sage had sort of wish Alessandro would have responded to his mention of being profiled. He'd caught a flicker of something passing thorough his face....but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He was rather hard to read at times. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he wouldn't mind getting railed by Alessandro. It could be a lot worse. It was a brief thought, of course, one he immedietaly chided himself for. Alessandro wass teasing him again, and he chuckled softly. "Well, you've seen how my previous romantic decisions worked out for me," he noted with a shrug. "But I think my idea of heroism is just fine," he added after a moment or two. The comment did hit home though....at least he wasn't off put by the idea of sage liking men. Then again, he had been with Casper when they'd met, so it probably wasn't a surprise to him. When they had moved down to the kitchen later on, and Alessandro was telling him not to rush or anything, he sort of grunted in agrement. "Yeah, well, now that I'm awake and feeling better I'm hungry," he sort of grumbled, continuing to move at the exact same place. Though, his comment about warning him before he used him as a walking aide did pull a smile to his face. "That problem would be solved if you just carried me to the kitchen," he noted with a grin. He was teasing, though he figured Alessandro would have no problems carrying him around if it ever came to it. He had pretty well already done it, though Sage liked to think he'd helped a little bit. They reached the kitchen soon enough, and he'd downed the bowl of soup quickly. It was a good sign, and by the end of the meal he'd gone through most of a second bowl and had to refill his glass of water a few times. He felt a lot better. He supposed eating and drinking well did that to a person. He hadn't had three full meals a day in....a while, to say the least. And the past few days had been hard. But he was gettign intot he rhythm of this new life. And he did feel good. His stomach did feel like it would burst at the seams if he ate any more, so after the soup was gone for the second time, he just flopped back onto his chair with a quiet groan of contentment. |
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Alessandro watched him eat. Not in the way men watched weakness, or opportunity—but with the quiet, measuring attention of someone who noticed details whether he wanted to or not. The way Sage didn’t hesitate this time. The way he finished one bowl, then another. The way color sat better on his skin now, shoulders looser, breath deeper. Good. That was good. When Sage leaned back in the chair with that small, satisfied groan, Alessandro moved—deliberately. He stepped closer instead of staying where he was, bracing one hand on the table as he leaned in just enough to invade Sage’s space without fully claiming it. Close enough that his presence was unmistakable. Close enough that Sage would feel it. His voice dropped, smooth and controlled. “So,” Alessandro asked, eyes on Sage’s face, “how does the food taste?” It was a simple question. He knew that. But the angle of his body wasn’t simple. Neither was the faint curve at the corner of his mouth, or the way his gaze lingered half a second longer than necessary. He wasn’t touching him—Alessandro didn’t need to—but he was close enough to test a reaction, to see if Sage would stiffen, deflect, or meet him where he stood. He held there, unhurried, waiting. When Sage didn’t immediately pull away, Alessandro felt something stir—subtle, unfamiliar, quickly locked back down behind discipline and habit. He straightened only slightly, still within reach, still watching. “You look better,” he added, quieter now. Not teasing this time. Just truth. |
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Sage hadn't quite expected Alessandro to make any sort of move towards him, so when he opened his eyes to find them so close, he felt something stir within his ribcage. Nothing necessarily unpleasant, of course...but a little unfamiliar as of then. He felt a light flush work its way across his cheeks when the other man spoke up, mentally scolding himself for it. He hated how easily he'd blush...it had always happened like this. He wasn't even really flirting...it was a simple question. One that had more than one intention behind it, of course, but still. It wasn't like he'd said anything that had warranted a blush. He didn't pull away though. He smiply let the corners of his own mouth twitch upwards slightly, cocking his head so his still loose hair slipped over his shoulders, where he knew it would expose the bare skin around his collar bone and shoulder where the shirt was a little bit big, gazing up at the other man. "Delicious," he noted simply, knowing full well the word could be used for a lot of things. He was beign subtle about it, yes, but so was Alessandro. He wasn't quite sure if he was wanting a flirt back, but he supposed that was more or less what he was getting. When he pulled back, sage couldn't help the slight flicker of dissapointment in his chest. Alessandro hadn't gone far, but those few inches suddently seemed like miles. "A lot better," he admitted with a soft chuckle. "I think the last of the headache was just being hungry and thirsty," he added with a slight shrug of his shoulders. |
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Alessandro noticed everything. The color in Sage’s cheeks didn’t escape him—not the way it spread, or how quickly Sage tried to pretend it wasn’t there at all. He clocked the tilt of his head, the fall of hair, the exposed line of collarbone where the shirt slipped just enough to be distracting without trying to be. That, more than anything, made his jaw tighten. “Delicious,” Sage said. Alessandro’s mouth curved—not quite a smile. Something sharper. Amused. His eyes lingered for a beat too long, dark and assessing, before he finally straightened and gave Sage back those few inches of space. He shouldn’t have leaned in like that.
He knew it.
And yet. “Good,” he replied evenly, voice steady despite the faint, unfamiliar pull in his chest. He dismissed it as instinct—curiosity, nothing more. He’d built an empire on reading people, on pressing just enough to see what they’d give him. This was no different. It wasn’t. When Sage admitted he felt better, Alessandro nodded once, relief flickering across his face before he masked it again. He reached out, briefly adjusting the bowl near Sage’s hand, an excuse to be close without crossing any real line. “Hunger’ll do that,” he said. “Dehydration too. Your body’s been through enough—it doesn’t need you starving it on top of everything else.” His gaze softened despite himself. Just a fraction. “I’m glad,” he added, quieter. Not teasing now. Not testing. Just honest. Then, as if to reclaim control of the moment, he stepped back fully, folding his arms and glancing toward the stove. “Don’t get used to me playing nurse,” he said dryly. “But… you’re doing better than you were this morning.” And for someone like Alessandro—who didn’t say things he didn’t mean—that was more than it sounded like. |
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Sage had been slightly dissapointed when Alessandro leaned back again, though he kept his face carefully neutral as the topic moved into his health rather than...whatever the hell that was. He did find his gaze following Alessandro's hand as he reached for the bowl. The way his fingers could fit around it all easily. The effortless way his hand shifted as it moved. His cheeks grew warmer the more he thought about it. He forced his gaze away, jaw tightening slightly. He was in trouble. And he wasn't upset about it. He felt his shoulders sag slightly when Alessandro moved backwards, gaze moving towards the stove, attempting to regain the breath he'd lost, if only for a split second. "Really, I'll be fine," he noted softly. "Now that I've eaten. Rested." He shrugged. "I could do anything now," he added with a small laugh |
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Alessandro heard the change in Sage’s voice before he looked back at him. Not weaker—quieter. The kind of quiet that meant someone was convincing themselves as much as the person they were speaking to. He turned, leaning one hip against the counter, arms still folded. His expression stayed composed, but his eyes tracked Sage in that steady, unreadable way that had made grown men fold in boardrooms and back rooms alike. “Mm,” he hummed, not immediately agreeing or disagreeing. He let the silence stretch just long enough to feel deliberate. “Anything,” he echoed, low, testing the word the way he tested people. His gaze dipped briefly—to the tension in Sage’s jaw, the way he forced himself still—then lifted again. Alessandro straightened, pushing off the counter and stepping closer, though this time he stopped short of invading Sage’s space. “Let’s not get ambitious,” he said dryly. “You’re improved, not invincible.” A pause. Then, quieter—measured. “But I’m glad you feel steadier.” He reached out, almost absently, and nudged Sage’s empty bowl farther onto the counter, their knuckles brushing for the briefest moment. It was accidental. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t pull away quickly either. “You don’t need to prove anything,” Alessandro added, voice firm but not unkind. “Not to me.” He withdrew his hand then, fingers curling slightly as if grounding himself, and glanced toward the hallway. “Give it the night,” he concluded. “If you’re still feeling like you could ‘do anything’ tomorrow… we’ll revisit that idea.” The corner of his mouth twitched—subtle, restrained. A warning. Or an invitation. Even Alessandro wasn’t entirely sure which. |
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The way the other man spoke, testing the word anything made something deep in Sage's torso seem to heat up. His pulse quickened too, and he felt his face redden even more. Crap. He was probably being fairly obvious. Alessandro was good at reading people ....he'd have figured out sage was attracted to him, he was sure. And he didn't seem upset about it. At least, he hoped so. He was flirting back ....right? He really hoped so. Though he groaned when he said he wasn't invincible, wrinkling his nose slightly. "I'm fine," he huffed, though he did appreciate Alessandro not wanting to rush anything. He probably should be more cautious about all this, especially since his last romantic decisions wound up as bad as they did. But Alessandro wasn't Casper. He was much better. When their knuckles brushed, he could feel his blush spreading even further across his face, just staring at their hands as they met. It wasn't a purposeful touch, it didn't seem like ...but that didn't matter. "I know," he noted, though it came out as more of a squeak than anything, much to his embarrassment. When he mentioned seeing what would happen tomorrow, he felt his breath hitch slightly. Was ...was that an innuendo? He finally tore his gaze off his hand and back to his face, sort of gaping at him for a moment before huffing and standing up himself. "Fine," he noted. He'd moved to head back to his room, but when he heard blitz turn to follow he doubled back, moving towards Alessandro and stopping in front of him arms crossed. "But I'm not staying alone, not after last night," he noted, taking a pointer finger and pressing it to the other man's chest, meeting his gaze. "So either Blitz comes in the bed, or you get your ass in there and cuddle," he noted, whirling around and moving towards the door before he could loose his nerves. "Make your choice." Then he'd turned the corner and was gone, walking quickly towards his room, Blitz close behind. |
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Alessandro stood where Sage left him, the echo of that finger pressed to his chest lingering far longer than it had any right to. He exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw tightening—not in anger, but in restraint. A practiced thing. Necessary. He had learned a long time ago what happened when he ignored that tightening, when he followed impulse instead of control. “Dio mio,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He didn’t follow immediately. He needed the second. Needed to put the heat back where it belonged—locked down, contained, buried under discipline and rules that had kept him alive this long. Sharing a bed with Sage, like this, after today—after the looks, the tone, the way Sage had said anything— That was a bad idea. A dangerous one. He turned just as Blitz paused in the hallway, glancing back at him with that sharp, assessing stare. Alessandro met it, something wry and resigned flickering across his expression. “You,” he said quietly, pointing once toward the bedroom. “Congratulations. You’re on duty.” Blitz’s ears flicked forward. Alessandro followed them down the hall, stopping in the doorway as Sage moved toward the bed. He didn’t step inside right away. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest, posture casual enough to pass—but his eyes were anything but. “Rules are rules,” he said evenly. “Normally.” He nodded once toward Blitz, who was already circling the bed like he belonged there. “But tonight,” Alessandro added, voice lower, more controlled, “you’re the better option.” His gaze shifted to Sage then—steady, unreadable, deliberately not lingering on the flush in his cheeks or the way he’d squared his shoulders like he’d just challenged a lion and lived. “If I get in that bed,” Alessandro continued calmly, “I won’t sleep.” A beat. “And I don’t make decisions like that when someone’s just recovered from nearly dying in my house.” He straightened, stepping back from the threshold. “So Blitz stays,” he concluded. “You rest. I’ll be right next door if you need anything.” His eyes softened—just a fraction. “Try not to boss me around tomorrow,” he added dryly. “I might take it as encouragement.” Then he turned away, leaving the door open just enough to keep his word—
and putting distance between himself and a temptation he refused to mishandle. |
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Sage had practically fled the kitchen, face flaming. He hadn't quite meant to do that, but he wasn't upset he had either. Not entirely. Alessandro would choose Blitz. He knew that. He would be careful about Sage after the past few days of chaos. But maybe another day. He'd mentioned that, in a way. He had moved to fix the covers on the bed, glancing over his shoulder when Alessandro leaned in the door frame, agreeing to let the rules be bent. He felt a smile form on his face at that. Good. He'd enjoyed having Blitz there with him. And personally it seemed like the wolf had made himself rather comfortable on that bed too. He did feel so egging squirm in his stomach when Alessandro admitted getting in the bed would make him not sleep....and he caught that. A small smirk formed on his face as he turned to glance over his shoulder at the man. "Ah, so you're choosing the boring option then," he teased, knowing full well the guy was probably right for being cautious about it. Though, his eyebrows did shoot up when he mentioned not bossing him around. Ah....so he'd liked that. The corner of his lips twitched. "I'll keep that in mind," he noted with amusement. Once he was gone though, sage all but collapsed onto the bed with a groan, face flaming and something writhing around in his torso. He may not sleep much anyway. |
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Alessandro watched Sage retreat down the hall like his shoes were on fire, and only once the door shut did he let himself exhale. “…Yeah,” he muttered to the empty space. “That went well.” He stood there for a long moment longer than necessary, one hand braced on the doorframe, replaying the way Sage’s face had gone red, the teasing lilt in his voice, the look over his shoulder. Alessandro straightened abruptly, jaw tightening as if physical posture might help him regain some control over his thoughts. Choosing the boring option, indeed. He retreated to his own room eventually, shutting the door softly behind him. The bed was pristine, untouched—expensive, comfortable, designed for rest. He lay down anyway, staring at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest like he was trying to will himself into unconsciousness. It didn’t work. His mind refused to settle. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sage slumped against the bedframe, rubbing against him, and uh...let's not mention the rest... He rolled onto his side, then his back, then his other side. The clock ticked. Stryker padded past the door once, twice, nails clicking faintly, a soft huff accompanying his pacing. Alessandro groaned quietly and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Should’ve taken the couch,” he muttered. Sleep never really came—just long stretches of half-awareness, naughty thoughts looping, protective instincts warring with restraint. By the time pale morning light crept in through the curtains, he was already awake. He gave up before the alarm could even think about going off. The house was quiet as he moved through it, sleeves rolled up automatically as he headed for the kitchen. He was halfway through cracking eggs when he felt it—eyes on him. He glanced down. Stryker sat a few feet away, posture perfect, ears forward, tail still. Ready. Patient in the way only a predator could be. “You’re early,” Alessandro said flatly. The wolf’s tail thumped once against the floor. “Of course you are.” He sighed, reaching for another pan. “You know, most people wait until the food exists before staring holes into someone.” Stryker rose and padded closer, nose twitching, sitting again—closer this time. Blitz was nowhere to be seen yet, likely still glued to Sage’s side like a second shadow. Alessandro worked quietly, muscle memory taking over as the smell of breakfast slowly filled the kitchen. Despite the sleepless night, there was something grounding about it. Normal. Predictable. As he plated food—setting aside a portion for the wolves first, because Stryker would riot otherwise—his thoughts drifted down the hall to the closed bedroom door. He shook his head, refusing to let his mind return to the gutter. He set the plates down, nudging Stryker’s bowl toward him with his foot. “Don’t wake him,” he warned softly, already knowing it was a losing battle. Stryker’s ears flicked, tail wagging once as he ate. Alessandro leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, exhaustion finally settling in his bones—but underneath it was something else. A resolve. Protective, steady, unshakable. Another day, he’d said. Yeah. There would be another day. |
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Afternoon Storms, then Clearing
