This wasn’t his Sawyer but he was Sawyer and Bishop had a hard time wanting to let that go. He knew he would have to at some point but a walk would be okay. Make sure he got back safe.
With a nod, Bishop took another step back to give Sawyer space to walk, “how long have you been here?”
“So this is all really new for you, too,” Bishop comments, sliding his hands into his pockets once they start walking.
He looks around them a bit as they walk, as alert as he usually is, mindful of the space kept between them unless someone else nears them on the path to which he instinctually slides a little closer and creates a little buffer between Sawyer and them.
Sawyer nods. He's quiet but that's not unusual. He holds himself as they walk and it's strange how it seems like Bishop is going out of his way to try and not scare Sawyer -- almost like he knows what to do. He furrows his brow -- and the weird instinct to trust that he's never really felt before.
He shakes his head at the question. No one he's close to. He doesn't really know how to talk to people or make friends. He's barely been able to function without people telling him what to do and when to do it.
In some ways he probably would have felt better knowing Sawyer had someone. In some ways he’s…irrationally relieved. His brow furrows and he slowly looks away again. No, he would not self impose himself on this different version of his mate. He wouldn’t do that. That would be…weird.
“I know you don’t know me or trust me. My um. My version of you took a while, too. But…if you need help with anything…you can find me.”
Sawyer nods again. He looks where he's going and he's still hyper aware of his surroundings but Bishop is also pulling a lot of his attention. His eyes look so... soft. He chews on his lips, lost in thought as they come up close to the building he's living in. He stops when they get there, turning over Bishop's words in his head.
No. Absolutely not. That would be the wrong decision. Going in there would be—
“If you want me to, then yeah, I’d like that,” well. Staying away now that he knew he was here would be harder than he thought. Bishop tries not to look too happy about the invitation but he’s probably failing on so many levels.
Sawyer gives a slight nod. He doesn't know why he invites him in but he allows him. He leads him into the building and into the area that's his. There's nothing there that makes it seem personal. It's very clean, nothing out of place. He carefully takes off his shoes and rubs one of his arms as he looks up at Bishop.
He feels so tall and big and it makes Sawyer feel very small but he's not... extra afraid of him now that he isn't picking him up out of nowhere.
"So... I'm... your mate?" he asks again, his brow furrows and he moves to get Bishop a water -- habit. He offers it to him.
Inside, he follows suit, removing his shoes and—he smiles whether he realizes it or not as he looks around. It’s very…Sawyer.
He can tell Sawyer has relaxed a bit more and he looks over to take the water, murmuring a thank you before he finds a place to sit down.
“Yeah,” Bishop nods and carefully sets the water aside, “I was just going to take you away from the other pack. You didn’t deserve to be treated the way you were. I’d heard about it and acted without thinking, really. But um…” he chuckles quietly, ears turning a rosy shade of pink in the process, “I realized really early on that I wanted you to be mine. Not just part of the pack. But mine.”
There's not really a lot of furniture so the floor is really the best place to sit down unless you wanted to sit on the bed. Sawyer sits down on the floor himself, crossing his legs and he picks at his fingers as he glances between them and Bishop as he listens to him talk.
Bishop doesn’t answer that question immediately. He watches Sawyers face for what feels like a long time but really it couldn’t be more than a few seconds.
“I don’t know how to answer that…” he fidgets with a bracelet on his wrist and looks down at his hands, “if I say yes, that just sounds…creepy. If I say no, it feels weird because…you’re still you you’re just…different.”
Sawyer contemplates that answer and he stays where he is. The omega Sawyer had thrown himself at Bishop much more intensely, scents and the immediate fear of where he'd come from fueling him.
For this Sawyer it's different.
"I've never felt like I should trust someone before," he says softly. "But I feel like I'm supposed to trust you."
Sawyer's quiet and it's hard for him to believe even with that something inside of him that whispers it's true. He exhales and scoots closer, swallowing hard as he scoots until their knees bump against each other.
The contact startles him even though he's initiating it and he lowers his gaze.
"Am I... your mate?"
He looks at him, eyes steady. He's scared of people. He's scared of being touched most of the time. He's terrified of making decisions and he doesn't know what to do. And it feels like Bishop can help him.
But the answer comes easily as he meets Sawyers eyes. His own soften despite the nagging in the back of his head that this is a different version of what’s his…
“Yes,” he breathes, a gentle rumble as an undercurrent of his voice. It isn’t a lie. It isn’t the complete truth either but, it is what it is.
His fingers curl around each other and he licks his lips softly, “but I’m not expecting you to…” …take on that role.
Sawyer watches him carefully. There's a lot that he's afraid of. Sex has never been pleasant his entire life. And it had started... before it should have. Before he could have ever been ready. Still, he's drawn to this man...wolf? What is he? He doesn't really understand all of that. Is he human?
He chews on his lip in thought, staying silent for maybe too long and just leaving their knees pressed together a warm reminder of how close they are but unlike with any other contact it doesn't make him panic. And since it wasn't sudden he doesn't freeze.
It's after some time before he makes a decision. He doesn't know how anything works in the real world. he's never been a part of it. He'd been in a cult that had used him to summon demons and open portals to hell and then he'd been in an insane asylum after they no longer needed him and the abuse had never stopped there.
The silence had felt so normal. The way it stretched out. The way they seemed to both just be studying the other, lost in thought.
Were they the same? Were they really that different? It didn’t feel…as different as he knew it was. Sawyer was…a creature that would always have Bishop wrapped around his finger no matter what, it felt like.
And then a thought hit him and he flushed again, “…I’m Bishop by the way. My name.”
Sawyer doesn't answer and he blinks when the other tells him his name.
"Bishop," he whispers. Then he moves. He climbs onto his lap, his legs going on either side of him. His small hands rest on the other's shoulder and his pulse is racing.
"I can..." he says softly and looks at the other. He's a little scared. But strangely this feels normal.
Bishop blinks slowly after hearing his name whispered like that; so familiar that it makes his heart ache. But then Sawyer is in his lap, a familiar weight. Even the way he moves is exactly the same. The way his heart beat quickens. All of it is so much the same that it’s hard to….
“Can what?” He repeats even lower than before. Was this cheating? What was this? What was going on? Bishops heart was pounding so hard he was sure Sawyer would hear it.
Sawyer's not even sure what he's doing. He chews his lips as he curls his fingers against the other's shoulders. Honestly, he's afraid. He's afraid of trusting this stranger that doesn't feel quite like a stranger.
He doesn't answer with words, though.
Sawyer leans forward pressing a kiss to Bishop's lips. This is one of the first things he's really deciding for himself. To trust, to let himself be... something to this person that's not just a means to an end -- at least he thinks so.
He waits and in the meantime tries to relearn how to breathe. A normally mundane thoughtless task surprisingly hard when one is as confused as he is.
But then everything completely stops the moment Sawyers lips meet his. They’re soft. Lips he’s kissed a million times at this point, even if they’re not exactly the same.
His lips part slightly before he kisses him back carefully. Why was he doing this? And why was he returning it? He’s still hesitant to really touch him at this point but his hands naturally find their way to rest on the others hips. Not gripping so much as resting.
Sawyer appreciates that the other is careful with his touching that he doesn't immediately take over, doesn't grip him...doesn't demand anything of him. he doesn't hurt him. He just lightly touches him, kissing him gently. He's never had that before.
His eyes are wide when the other breaks the kiss and he doesn't move.
Sawyer doesn't say anything and instead he slowly pulls off his shirt. There's scars over his torso and stomach, even over his arms. His skin is marred and he's showing him on purpose. Would he still want him? On his side is a large demonic symbol burned into his skin.
"I... I'm probably not as nice to look at as him..." he says softly. "But I..." he bites his lip and looks away. "Just don't hurt me... you won't hurt me, right?" he says softly. He doesn't know where he gets the courage.
For a second, Bishop almost stops him but then he notices the scars, and the marks and he can’t force the words out.
Bishops gaze darts from one scar to another, and he carefully raises one hand to hover over the symbol. He doesn’t touch it. He doesn’t touch any of it even if a huge part of him wishes he could erase all of it the same way he wished he could erase His Sawyers scars.
“…why…why do you have to suffer no matter where you are…” he mutters, and he doesn’t cry but it’s obvious that he hates to see him like this. Always like this. Always hurt.
“I’d never hurt you. Ever. Never you.” He says, finally looking back towards the others face. He may not be the wolf he’d mated but he’s still clearly him.
Sawyer's holding his breath. Despite the fact that he's seeming to be making all these moves he's terrified. And as the other looks at his scars, he sees his hand hovering and then not touching and tears start to well up. Is he too disgusting to touch? He wants to get up at first, but he feels frozen again. He lets out the breath he's holding and it's shuddering when the other finally speaks.
Oh.
His eyes are still wet but he's managing not to start crying and as the other assures him he won't hurt him he finally starts to unfreeze. He feels connected to him when he looks in his eyes. Why? He doesn't understand when he's not... really...the same person the other knows.
"Okay," he says softly. "You can touch them...they're all old," he says softly.
Even with permission, he doesn’t move his hands right away. But when he does, it’s to reach up and draw Sawyer into another kiss. Warmer this time, keeping him closer than before.
His hand slowly draw down; blindly feeling along a few of the scars but when his hand lands on the symbol he pauses, “what is this?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
With a nod, Bishop took another step back to give Sawyer space to walk, “how long have you been here?”
no subject
"Just... a few days."
no subject
He looks around them a bit as they walk, as alert as he usually is, mindful of the space kept between them unless someone else nears them on the path to which he instinctually slides a little closer and creates a little buffer between Sawyer and them.
“Do you have anyone you’re close to?”
no subject
He shakes his head at the question. No one he's close to. He doesn't really know how to talk to people or make friends. He's barely been able to function without people telling him what to do and when to do it.
no subject
In some ways he probably would have felt better knowing Sawyer had someone. In some ways he’s…irrationally relieved. His brow furrows and he slowly looks away again. No, he would not self impose himself on this different version of his mate. He wouldn’t do that. That would be…weird.
“I know you don’t know me or trust me. My um. My version of you took a while, too. But…if you need help with anything…you can find me.”
Fuck.
no subject
"Do you want to come in?"
no subject
“If you want me to, then yeah, I’d like that,” well. Staying away now that he knew he was here would be harder than he thought. Bishop tries not to look too happy about the invitation but he’s probably failing on so many levels.
no subject
He feels so tall and big and it makes Sawyer feel very small but he's not... extra afraid of him now that he isn't picking him up out of nowhere.
"So... I'm... your mate?" he asks again, his brow furrows and he moves to get Bishop a water -- habit. He offers it to him.
no subject
He can tell Sawyer has relaxed a bit more and he looks over to take the water, murmuring a thank you before he finds a place to sit down.
“Yeah,” Bishop nods and carefully sets the water aside, “I was just going to take you away from the other pack. You didn’t deserve to be treated the way you were. I’d heard about it and acted without thinking, really. But um…” he chuckles quietly, ears turning a rosy shade of pink in the process, “I realized really early on that I wanted you to be mine. Not just part of the pack. But mine.”
no subject
"Do you want me too?"
no subject
“I don’t know how to answer that…” he fidgets with a bracelet on his wrist and looks down at his hands, “if I say yes, that just sounds…creepy. If I say no, it feels weird because…you’re still you you’re just…different.”
no subject
For this Sawyer it's different.
"I've never felt like I should trust someone before," he says softly. "But I feel like I'm supposed to trust you."
no subject
“I know it’s easy for me to say, but you can trust me. I wouldn't ever hurt you. Any version of you.” I love you.
no subject
The contact startles him even though he's initiating it and he lowers his gaze.
"Am I... your mate?"
He looks at him, eyes steady. He's scared of people. He's scared of being touched most of the time. He's terrified of making decisions and he doesn't know what to do. And it feels like Bishop can help him.
no subject
But the answer comes easily as he meets Sawyers eyes. His own soften despite the nagging in the back of his head that this is a different version of what’s his…
“Yes,” he breathes, a gentle rumble as an undercurrent of his voice. It isn’t a lie. It isn’t the complete truth either but, it is what it is.
His fingers curl around each other and he licks his lips softly, “but I’m not expecting you to…” …take on that role.
no subject
He chews on his lip in thought, staying silent for maybe too long and just leaving their knees pressed together a warm reminder of how close they are but unlike with any other contact it doesn't make him panic. And since it wasn't sudden he doesn't freeze.
It's after some time before he makes a decision. He doesn't know how anything works in the real world. he's never been a part of it. He'd been in a cult that had used him to summon demons and open portals to hell and then he'd been in an insane asylum after they no longer needed him and the abuse had never stopped there.
"I can."
no subject
The silence had felt so normal. The way it stretched out. The way they seemed to both just be studying the other, lost in thought.
Were they the same? Were they really that different? It didn’t feel…as different as he knew it was. Sawyer was…a creature that would always have Bishop wrapped around his finger no matter what, it felt like.
And then a thought hit him and he flushed again, “…I’m Bishop by the way. My name.”
no subject
"Bishop," he whispers. Then he moves. He climbs onto his lap, his legs going on either side of him. His small hands rest on the other's shoulder and his pulse is racing.
"I can..." he says softly and looks at the other. He's a little scared. But strangely this feels normal.
no subject
Bishop blinks slowly after hearing his name whispered like that; so familiar that it makes his heart ache. But then Sawyer is in his lap, a familiar weight. Even the way he moves is exactly the same. The way his heart beat quickens. All of it is so much the same that it’s hard to….
“Can what?” He repeats even lower than before. Was this cheating? What was this? What was going on? Bishops heart was pounding so hard he was sure Sawyer would hear it.
no subject
He doesn't answer with words, though.
Sawyer leans forward pressing a kiss to Bishop's lips. This is one of the first things he's really deciding for himself. To trust, to let himself be... something to this person that's not just a means to an end -- at least he thinks so.
no subject
But then everything completely stops the moment Sawyers lips meet his. They’re soft. Lips he’s kissed a million times at this point, even if they’re not exactly the same.
His lips part slightly before he kisses him back carefully. Why was he doing this? And why was he returning it? He’s still hesitant to really touch him at this point but his hands naturally find their way to rest on the others hips. Not gripping so much as resting.
“You…don’t have to…”
no subject
His eyes are wide when the other breaks the kiss and he doesn't move.
Sawyer doesn't say anything and instead he slowly pulls off his shirt. There's scars over his torso and stomach, even over his arms. His skin is marred and he's showing him on purpose. Would he still want him? On his side is a large demonic symbol burned into his skin.
"I... I'm probably not as nice to look at as him..." he says softly. "But I..." he bites his lip and looks away. "Just don't hurt me... you won't hurt me, right?" he says softly. He doesn't know where he gets the courage.
no subject
Bishops gaze darts from one scar to another, and he carefully raises one hand to hover over the symbol. He doesn’t touch it. He doesn’t touch any of it even if a huge part of him wishes he could erase all of it the same way he wished he could erase His Sawyers scars.
“…why…why do you have to suffer no matter where you are…” he mutters, and he doesn’t cry but it’s obvious that he hates to see him like this. Always like this. Always hurt.
“I’d never hurt you. Ever. Never you.” He says, finally looking back towards the others face. He may not be the wolf he’d mated but he’s still clearly him.
no subject
Oh.
His eyes are still wet but he's managing not to start crying and as the other assures him he won't hurt him he finally starts to unfreeze. He feels connected to him when he looks in his eyes. Why? He doesn't understand when he's not... really...the same person the other knows.
"Okay," he says softly. "You can touch them...they're all old," he says softly.
no subject
His hand slowly draw down; blindly feeling along a few of the scars but when his hand lands on the symbol he pauses, “what is this?”
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)