Jacob kisses back, surprised by the warmth of Anduin's hand and the tiredness in the young man's body. He looks like he's been awake for a week. Jacob knows full well that isn't possible, if only because he's so recently climbed out of the same bed. The smile on Jacob's face only falls a little, before he moves and sets the heavy box down on a spare part of the desk before he goes back to look at his dominant.
"When did you last get a rest? A drink? A meal?"
Anduin is prone to skip those things, even at the best of times. Now that the Down is a warzone? It's amazing he's remembering to breathe. And while Jacob had intended to drop off the box and go, he can't leave Anduin in this state.
He recalls with some fondness Anders' advice about finding people stubborn enough to look after you, when you so often forgot to do so yourself. Oh, if he only knew.
"I've eaten recently. It's only..." And he looks to the clock briefly before his expression freezes, then falls. "Ah. Well. Later than I assumed, actually. I. Yes, perhaps a moment to sit down and eat. I haven't really been able to..."
It's then that he notices the slight tilts to Jacob's posture, the way he's favoring one side.
God only knows how Anduin has managed to surround himself with stubborn people who love him more than he can probably appreciate, or easily understand. Jacob feels he's in the same situation, although he's never before had someone be so attentive to his well being. The fact Anduin is only one of half a dozen people that give a damn about him is almost unbelievable.
"Where can I find you food?" He says, trying to steer Anduin back to the chair behind the desk, ignoring the protest from his body as he does so. Alas, he can't ignore it while Anduin tried to draw attention to it.
"Just had a bit of a squabble with some local ladies about that box. Nothing you need to worry about. It's probably not even bleeding."
After all, he'd been hit hard in the chest with a club-like length of pipe wrapped in chain. That probably wasn't going to bleed, right?
The breath he lets out is strained, brow pinching almost immediately. "Come here. Let me see."
If he's being steered to sit, he allows it...though on the condition that Jacob walks with him, close enough for Anduin to reach up and peel up his hoodie and shirt beneath to take a closer look at what pains him enough to show.
They take care of one another. They learn to lean on others, to rely on help even when they'd rather take the burden on entirely on their own. They've both done a lot of growing, in that regard, since arriving in the city.
He's not the one Anduin is meant to be worrying over, but Jacob doesn't protest because his king does move back towards his chair and sinks into it.
Which means Jacob doesn't protest too much when his shirt and hoodie are pulled up. In fact he even helps, holding the hem up and out of Anduin's way. It isn't bleeding, just bruised and sore.
"You don't need to fix it. Save your energy for people that wanders really hurt." He says as his free hand touches Anduin's cheek. "If you want you can kiss it better. I've got a whole host of scrapes and cuts you can kiss better actually."
He might have teased him for the flirtation, on another day. Instead, something weary and sorrowful passes over his expression, fingers gently brushing the blossoming patch of angry purple rising across Jacob's side.
Eyes falling shut at the touch to his cheek, he does lean forward and kiss the bruised skin. He also murmurs a soft prayer, and a small tendril of light seeps into the wound. It's a small wound. It doesn't take much. But if he can't used the Light to protect those important to him, why have it at all?
Once the bruising begins to fade, he shifts slightly, enough to simply rest his forehead against Jacob's hip. No words. Just quiet exhaustion and gratitude.
"Anduin..." Jacob murmurs, the soft kiss warm, but not as far as the tendril of healing light that he feels run through him. He shouldn't have let Anduin waste his energy on him, not when he looks so exhausted. But he knows that it's love that makes Anduin do this, and he won't ever make it seem that he isn't grateful for everything Anduin does for him.
"That's not helping you rest is it?" He murmurs, stroking over Anduin's jaw again, and then brushing the longer strands of his hair back from his face. While it's only been six months since they arrived, if that, there's something that has changed in Anduin's eyes, in his jaw. He's grown up a little bit, learnt a lot about the world, and people. Not all of it good, but all of it useful.
Even now, tired as he is, he's utterly gorgeous, more handsome than Jacob has words to describe. "I love you, you know. That's why I worry about you."
He has in fact learned a great deal. Not that he was ignorant before of the way the world could be, or the people within it. But there was only so much one could absorb from watching diplomatic meetings or sneaking out into the streets of your own home town now and again.
Being in the midst of the chaos like this...it's difficult. No question. But it's also where he feels he can do the most good. The people in the Down have it more difficult than he ever has, and he knows he has no right to complain about whatever ills he might have suffered at the city's hands. Jacob's seen those struggles first-hand, he's lived them, and he knows how important this is to him.
A moment or two spent quietly drinking in that quiet, that affection, and Anduin turns his head to kiss the inside of Jacob's calloused palm. "I love you, too."
And even now, his heart flutters at the simple statement, the bond between them that's helped him through so much. That support he's always given him means more than he could possibly know, and the gentle touch at his temple feels as soothing as a benediction.
Anduin has never been ignorant, because that seems to imply certain acceptance of that state. As long as he's known him, Anduin has wanted to learn, to experience. After all, wasn't that how they first began that intimacy that led them here? Jacob's so-called lessons in kissing, in touch? He's sure that Anduin has tried a lot more than Jacob offered him, back then. Anduin doesn't learn for his own benefit, for his own desire to know more than anyone else. He's always trying to do everything, for everyone.
And that's why, or a lot of the reason why, he's so tired now. That's what Jacob thinks anyway. So he stays there, as long as Anduin needs to lean against him, trying to ease some of the aches and the pains. When Anduin returns the words, Jacob hums softly.
"Terrible mistake on your part." He is only joking, wryly at this point, because he feels such fondness and affection for Anduin he doesn't really know how to be serious about it.
"You still need a rest. A catnap. Twenty minutes. I'll stay with you. For my peace of mind, please?" He continues, looking down at Anduin and feeling his heart ache for him. He's so dedicated, so generous with his time, his energy, and Jacob for one isn't sure the city deserves someone like Anduin clearing up after it. "Is there a spare bed around here? A couch?"
"You're relentless," he murmurs fondly with one last kiss, before rising slowly to his feet. "There's a lounge, down the hall. I'll just need to let them know I'm taking a break."
He wouldn't on his own, and he knows that. But he knows running himself into the ground just puts more pressure on those who care about him, and it's a balance he has to work harder on maintaining. He'd ask the same of them, after all.
Speaking of which.
"I'll have someone take those boxes down to the basement. We've been assembling what supplies we can get our hands on there, though they've been going almost as quickly as they come."
"Alright," Jacob says, because he supposes Anduin can't just disappear. Not at a time like this, and Jacob knows he's too thoughtful and responsible, for the most part, to just up and leave his post.
"If I find anything you need, I'll try to get it over here," He offers, when they exit the room to go find this longue. "The Arena's got a fair few people sheltering there, but no one really seriously hurt. Just... give me a shopping list, next time I go rustle up supplies, I'll see if I can find something."
He's not sure if Anduin will mind that they're stolen, looted, whatever you want to call it, but needs must. They're trying to keep people safe and well, and sometimes beggers can't be choosers. Besides, what Jacob doesn't actually confirm, Anduin can't prove.
Fortunately he doesn't have to go far. A quick message on his network device will notify the necessary people, which leaves him free to walk alongside Jacob down the hall to the lounge, blessedly empty for the time being.
"Thank you. I'll let you know if there's anything we're running short of. I can have someone take stock when they take the supplies you brought with you downstairs," he murmurs, though he sounds almost distracted. Maybe it's realizing just how tired he is, how ready to close his eyes.
Jacob smiles, mostly to himself, and he really can't help but feel that if Anduin runs a kingdom like he runs a hospital, then he is probably doing a damn good job. He's just sorry he can't see that for himself.
As they arrive in the lounge, Jacob pushes open the door for Anduin, because he's not sure how much strength or energy the other man has now. But there's some comfortable looking couches, and when Jacob spots a likely one, he takes Anduin's hand in his, and leads him to it.
It's well-used, comfortable, and there's a rug thrown over the back. Clearly, someone has napped here before, and that influences his choice.
"I'll keep first watch, hm?" He says softly, sitting down and gesturing for Anduin to join him, wrapping his arm around him to pull him close.
He'd find no resistance at all in tugging him along, and the priest folds himself in to rest against Jacob. A little odd in appearance, considering he's the larger of the two of them, but Jacob's broad frame can hold him easily. Experience has told him so, after all.
It's easy to rest his head against the assassin's chest like it's the safest place in the world, eyes closed almost the moment he settles in, golden hair pillowed beneath him in a golden spill.
"Let me know if anyone comes looking for me. Need to be available if there's an emergency..."
Jacob feels the pleasant weight of Anduin's head against his chest, reaching up to stroke gently through the golden strands of Anduin's hair. This is familiar, comfortable, how they spend a fair few of the nights they are together. Jacob feels like, if there weren't terrible things going on around them in the Down, this would be very nice.
"I will, trust me. I know how much they need you. But you need to rest." He says softly, trying to gently ease Anduin into sleep, to soothe him a little more. There's nothing going on, no emergency right now, nothing that needs his focus.
It's half-murmured into his chest as the tension melts out of him. Jacob's fingers carding through his hair tug it slightly loose of the usual ponytail he keeps it in -- now grown longer, over the months -- but he doesn't mind it at all. The comfort and affection are sorely needed even if he'd never think to ask for it himself.
"Fall asleep at your desk more often," Jacob replies lightly, fingers removing the ribbon from Anduin's hair completely, so he can stroke through without anything in his way, knowing that Anduin will be able to re-tie it later.
"It's a strange place out there right now. People hiding where they can, hiding in that old church, hiding in the Arena. Oswald's taking them in, but only because Vrenille is twisting his arm." He pauses, glancing down to make sure the softness of his voice is lulling Anduin into resting, despite what he's actually saying. "And all this... resctructing. It's going to make things bloody hard afterward, no matter who wins."
"It will. But we'll find a way to help them, I'm certain of it."
He has to be. He has to maintain that hope because the lack of it isn't an option. There are too many here who still need someone willing to stand firm and true, to offer that shield and aid when needed. It's all he's ever wanted to do.
Despite the exhaustion, it feels good to help so many. Of course he immediately feels guilt at that thought. It would be far better if they didn't need the help at all. But for once, he feels as if he's actually making a difference here.
"Trouble is finding the place to start." Jacob murmurs, knowing full well that he's not exactly done what he intended to do when he got here. He knows the place well, he knows who controlled what, at least until all this started. He knew the SIN Guard patrol routes and the best points to spy on them, but what good has that done?
Evie would be disappointed. Hell, he's disappointed.
He lets out a long exhale and tries to focus on Anduin instead. "Pretty sure you'll find a way through. And if I can help, you know I will."
At that, Anduin's expression gentles, lips curving slightly as his eyes slit open just so. "You always do," he murmurs, voice rich with fondness, as one hand drifts up to brush against his. "You're my rock. I think I'd be lost without you."
Earnest, steadfast and loyal, Jacob had helped him through so much already. He'd been there for his first unsteady steps in the city, helped him navigate his feelings on so many aspects of life here, came to his aid whenever Anduin was in trouble, and the day he'd said he'd contract with him was still one of the happiest he could recall.
Whatever trouble came, if Jacob was by his side? He could weather it.
"If you mean I'm rough and heavy, you're probably right." Jacob replies, but there's a smile on his lips as he looks at Anduin, as he feels the warmth of those words bolster him and make him feel... feel more like the man Anduin thinks he is, rather than the man Jacob believes himself to be.
"We'll be okay. Us, the city. People have gotten through worse with less." That he knows to be the truth, and while they are a very mixed bag, that brings strength. Everyone has something to offer, everyone can help others in their own way. He believes that, and he knows Anduin does too.
And already he can feel his mind trying to pull himself back to the task at hand. So many people in need, and here he is lying down on the job. If it weren't for the fact that he knew Jacob would pull him right back down again, he'd already be on his feet again.
"No, it doesn't." Jacob will agree to that readily enough. "But slow progress is better than no progress, and so I caution you not to bugger yourself now."
Or, in English: I can feel you trying to get up, Anduin. You promised me you'd rest. Not that anyone, not Jacob, not Gilia, not Wrathion, can stop Anduin when he has his mind made up. But he tries, at least, to make sure that he saves some of his strength.
Fair enough. He can read what's being said, enough for the tension to leech out of him once more. A soft chuckle leaves his lips, fingers curling loosely against Jacob's shirt front.
"When did you become the voice of measured reason, and I the impatient one?" he murmurs, with a tinge of wry amusement.
Jacob smiles, feeling Anduin's fingers cling to him so gently, he can't resist bringing his free hand up to curl their hands together.
"I think it happens when you threaten to hurt my king in some way. Overwork him, tire him out, force him to skip meals. The bodyguard in me comes out and I can barely hold him back."
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"When did you last get a rest? A drink? A meal?"
Anduin is prone to skip those things, even at the best of times. Now that the Down is a warzone? It's amazing he's remembering to breathe. And while Jacob had intended to drop off the box and go, he can't leave Anduin in this state.
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"I've eaten recently. It's only..." And he looks to the clock briefly before his expression freezes, then falls. "Ah. Well. Later than I assumed, actually. I. Yes, perhaps a moment to sit down and eat. I haven't really been able to..."
It's then that he notices the slight tilts to Jacob's posture, the way he's favoring one side.
"...are you alright?"
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"Where can I find you food?" He says, trying to steer Anduin back to the chair behind the desk, ignoring the protest from his body as he does so. Alas, he can't ignore it while Anduin tried to draw attention to it.
"Just had a bit of a squabble with some local ladies about that box. Nothing you need to worry about. It's probably not even bleeding."
After all, he'd been hit hard in the chest with a club-like length of pipe wrapped in chain. That probably wasn't going to bleed, right?
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If he's being steered to sit, he allows it...though on the condition that Jacob walks with him, close enough for Anduin to reach up and peel up his hoodie and shirt beneath to take a closer look at what pains him enough to show.
They take care of one another. They learn to lean on others, to rely on help even when they'd rather take the burden on entirely on their own. They've both done a lot of growing, in that regard, since arriving in the city.
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Which means Jacob doesn't protest too much when his shirt and hoodie are pulled up. In fact he even helps, holding the hem up and out of Anduin's way. It isn't bleeding, just bruised and sore.
"You don't need to fix it. Save your energy for people that wanders really hurt." He says as his free hand touches Anduin's cheek. "If you want you can kiss it better. I've got a whole host of scrapes and cuts you can kiss better actually."
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Eyes falling shut at the touch to his cheek, he does lean forward and kiss the bruised skin. He also murmurs a soft prayer, and a small tendril of light seeps into the wound. It's a small wound. It doesn't take much. But if he can't used the Light to protect those important to him, why have it at all?
Once the bruising begins to fade, he shifts slightly, enough to simply rest his forehead against Jacob's hip. No words. Just quiet exhaustion and gratitude.
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"That's not helping you rest is it?" He murmurs, stroking over Anduin's jaw again, and then brushing the longer strands of his hair back from his face. While it's only been six months since they arrived, if that, there's something that has changed in Anduin's eyes, in his jaw. He's grown up a little bit, learnt a lot about the world, and people. Not all of it good, but all of it useful.
Even now, tired as he is, he's utterly gorgeous, more handsome than Jacob has words to describe. "I love you, you know. That's why I worry about you."
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Being in the midst of the chaos like this...it's difficult. No question. But it's also where he feels he can do the most good. The people in the Down have it more difficult than he ever has, and he knows he has no right to complain about whatever ills he might have suffered at the city's hands. Jacob's seen those struggles first-hand, he's lived them, and he knows how important this is to him.
A moment or two spent quietly drinking in that quiet, that affection, and Anduin turns his head to kiss the inside of Jacob's calloused palm. "I love you, too."
And even now, his heart flutters at the simple statement, the bond between them that's helped him through so much. That support he's always given him means more than he could possibly know, and the gentle touch at his temple feels as soothing as a benediction.
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And that's why, or a lot of the reason why, he's so tired now. That's what Jacob thinks anyway. So he stays there, as long as Anduin needs to lean against him, trying to ease some of the aches and the pains. When Anduin returns the words, Jacob hums softly.
"Terrible mistake on your part." He is only joking, wryly at this point, because he feels such fondness and affection for Anduin he doesn't really know how to be serious about it.
"You still need a rest. A catnap. Twenty minutes. I'll stay with you. For my peace of mind, please?" He continues, looking down at Anduin and feeling his heart ache for him. He's so dedicated, so generous with his time, his energy, and Jacob for one isn't sure the city deserves someone like Anduin clearing up after it. "Is there a spare bed around here? A couch?"
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He wouldn't on his own, and he knows that. But he knows running himself into the ground just puts more pressure on those who care about him, and it's a balance he has to work harder on maintaining. He'd ask the same of them, after all.
Speaking of which.
"I'll have someone take those boxes down to the basement. We've been assembling what supplies we can get our hands on there, though they've been going almost as quickly as they come."
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"If I find anything you need, I'll try to get it over here," He offers, when they exit the room to go find this longue. "The Arena's got a fair few people sheltering there, but no one really seriously hurt. Just... give me a shopping list, next time I go rustle up supplies, I'll see if I can find something."
He's not sure if Anduin will mind that they're stolen, looted, whatever you want to call it, but needs must. They're trying to keep people safe and well, and sometimes beggers can't be choosers. Besides, what Jacob doesn't actually confirm, Anduin can't prove.
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"Thank you. I'll let you know if there's anything we're running short of. I can have someone take stock when they take the supplies you brought with you downstairs," he murmurs, though he sounds almost distracted. Maybe it's realizing just how tired he is, how ready to close his eyes.
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As they arrive in the lounge, Jacob pushes open the door for Anduin, because he's not sure how much strength or energy the other man has now. But there's some comfortable looking couches, and when Jacob spots a likely one, he takes Anduin's hand in his, and leads him to it.
It's well-used, comfortable, and there's a rug thrown over the back. Clearly, someone has napped here before, and that influences his choice.
"I'll keep first watch, hm?" He says softly, sitting down and gesturing for Anduin to join him, wrapping his arm around him to pull him close.
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It's easy to rest his head against the assassin's chest like it's the safest place in the world, eyes closed almost the moment he settles in, golden hair pillowed beneath him in a golden spill.
"Let me know if anyone comes looking for me. Need to be available if there's an emergency..."
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"I will, trust me. I know how much they need you. But you need to rest." He says softly, trying to gently ease Anduin into sleep, to soothe him a little more. There's nothing going on, no emergency right now, nothing that needs his focus.
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It's half-murmured into his chest as the tension melts out of him. Jacob's fingers carding through his hair tug it slightly loose of the usual ponytail he keeps it in -- now grown longer, over the months -- but he doesn't mind it at all. The comfort and affection are sorely needed even if he'd never think to ask for it himself.
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"It's a strange place out there right now. People hiding where they can, hiding in that old church, hiding in the Arena. Oswald's taking them in, but only because Vrenille is twisting his arm." He pauses, glancing down to make sure the softness of his voice is lulling Anduin into resting, despite what he's actually saying. "And all this... resctructing. It's going to make things bloody hard afterward, no matter who wins."
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He has to be. He has to maintain that hope because the lack of it isn't an option. There are too many here who still need someone willing to stand firm and true, to offer that shield and aid when needed. It's all he's ever wanted to do.
Despite the exhaustion, it feels good to help so many. Of course he immediately feels guilt at that thought. It would be far better if they didn't need the help at all. But for once, he feels as if he's actually making a difference here.
For as long as that lasts, anyway.
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Evie would be disappointed. Hell, he's disappointed.
He lets out a long exhale and tries to focus on Anduin instead. "Pretty sure you'll find a way through. And if I can help, you know I will."
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Earnest, steadfast and loyal, Jacob had helped him through so much already. He'd been there for his first unsteady steps in the city, helped him navigate his feelings on so many aspects of life here, came to his aid whenever Anduin was in trouble, and the day he'd said he'd contract with him was still one of the happiest he could recall.
Whatever trouble came, if Jacob was by his side? He could weather it.
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"We'll be okay. Us, the city. People have gotten through worse with less." That he knows to be the truth, and while they are a very mixed bag, that brings strength. Everyone has something to offer, everyone can help others in their own way. He believes that, and he knows Anduin does too.
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And already he can feel his mind trying to pull himself back to the task at hand. So many people in need, and here he is lying down on the job. If it weren't for the fact that he knew Jacob would pull him right back down again, he'd already be on his feet again.
Even as tired as he still is.
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Or, in English: I can feel you trying to get up, Anduin. You promised me you'd rest. Not that anyone, not Jacob, not Gilia, not Wrathion, can stop Anduin when he has his mind made up. But he tries, at least, to make sure that he saves some of his strength.
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"When did you become the voice of measured reason, and I the impatient one?" he murmurs, with a tinge of wry amusement.
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"I think it happens when you threaten to hurt my king in some way. Overwork him, tire him out, force him to skip meals. The bodyguard in me comes out and I can barely hold him back."
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