Golden light fills the room. Taliar actually smiles. He doesn't especially like pain, but he grew up with a lot of it and he is well acquainted with his tolerances; this challenge feels downright easy.

You're adorable, Maitimo says, you're so sure of yourself and so determined and so stubborn and so fascinating -

- and he holds him down a little more firmly, so Taliar can't jerk away and ruin it, and writes his name into Taliar's back -

The first letter is healed over by the time he finishes the third. Taliar holds still, barely has to try, it's almost fun, when he guesses what Maitimo is writing he laughs, softly enough that he doesn't move too much—it's just such a very Maitimo thing to do. With a smile on his face and Maitimo's words in his thoughts, it's easy to say, I love you.

Love you too - and when he's done, a kiss - 

For just a second he's hardly even scared. For just a second it's still easy. For just a second he kisses back and he's so in love—

And then he freezes again, Nahira's laughter echoing in his mind.

And he takes hold of his soul and continues kissing him.

It's a more complicated mix, this time, less terror, more love, a lingering bright bubbly fondness for Maitimo's idea of what to do with a knife and your boyfriend. Still unbearable, still worse than any time Maitimo has ever touched his soul before today. He's certainly not in any condition to do anything about being kissed.

He's used to that. He can't get Taliar aroused in this state - that doesn't work well even with friendly soul-touching - but he can work with that, too. 

He doesn't let go for an hour. When he does, Taliar is in their bed, the covers drawn up cozily around him, and Maitimo nowhere to be seen. 

Taliar gradually regains the ability to move and think, and the first thing he uses them for is curling up and crying quietly and trying to think about Maitimo instead of Nahira. Writing his name in Taliar's back was adorable - if he remembers that as hard as he can, maybe he won't hear her laughing -

He listens, obviously, but he doesn't go in. He admires Taliar's pretty pretty soul and he pretends to be getting some work done and he listens.

About five more minutes go by, with increasing success at avoiding thoughts of Nahira, before he wonders if it is time to start putting himself back together again yet.

It's probably not over. It would honestly almost be disappointing if it was; he does not feel like he's been pushed anywhere close to his limits. He feels pretty wrecked, yes, but he can still find his love for Maitimo when he reaches for it, and that try-me feeling sits in his mind like a half-scratched itch.

"I'm fucking insane," he mutters to himself - how many people have ever honestly entertained the thought that their boyfriend has not tortured them enough yet and it would be unsatisfying if he stopped - but fuck it, he's Dawn-shining Taliar, he doesn't have to hold himself down to the standards of ordinary people. That also neatly answers the question about whether or not he should be putting himself back together. It's easier when he doesn't try, it's easier when the only things he requires of himself are to be present and unresisting and not think about Nahira, when he can just curl up weeping and do his best not to think at all - but he's Dawn-shining Taliar and he's not in this to make things easy on himself. So.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out and scrubs at his face with both hands. He doesn't know where his soul is (which is fucking terrifying and he needs a couple of seconds to calm down again after thinking it) so he can't just use his healing aura to clear away the minor discomforts of crying. Fine. He snuggles into the cozy blanket (and remembers coming to his senses all neatly tucked in, Maitimo is so cute) and he takes a good look at what his emotions are doing.

Predictably enough, he feels angry at Maitimo, hurt and betrayed. His instinctive reaction is to hate himself for not being good enough to forgive him instantly, but he overrules that, it's not helping anything. Sometimes you need force of will and sometimes you just need to let go. So he lets go. It's okay to feel this way, he doesn't need to erase it ever having happened, he just needs to figure out how to get from here to forgiveness. Okay.

(Speaking of things that itch in his mind, he wants very badly to know what Maitimo did to him while holding his soul. Oh, he can make guesses, there's evidence, but he wants to know. His sense of time while being soul-touched is virtually nonexistent but that must be at least an hour or two of his life that he simply doesn't have, and he wants it. He resolves to ask Maitimo to please send him the memories, later; and he observes that this curiosity is a pretty strong lever on him right now, and he deliberately doesn't do anything about that, for two reasons. One, if Maitimo uses it, he might get the knowledge sooner; two, usable leverage on him is a rare enough thing that he doesn't want to take that away from Maitimo in case he finds it useful before this is over. They are, after all, ultimately on the same side.)

Anyway, back on the subject of forgiveness. He reminds himself that he agreed to this. He thinks about Maitimo's name carved into his skin and how unexpectedly fun and delightful that was and how he might like to do it again sometime, and he catches himself flinching from the thought of Maitimo touching him, and he deliberately pulls his mind back to it and remembers every kiss he experienced today, every touch, and lets himself feel sick and awful, it's okay, he's allowed, he doesn't need to be okay right this second, he just needs to get there eventually, and he will.

He reminds himself what it's like to be high on trust songs. He sinks into the memory, wraps himself in the feeling, it was just like that, trusting Maitimo so absolutely and wanting him so badly and loving him so much - and there, now thinking about Maitimo touching him is a little bit easier. He thinks about Maitimo touching him. He thinks about Maitimo coming back into the room right now and pinning him to the bed and kissing him while he's helpless. It's terrifying - he clenches his fists so hard he can feel his hands bruising themselves, curls himself up into a little shivering ball - but he keeps his mind on it and remembers what it was like to want. He remembers the last time he had a Nahira dream, the triumph of giving himself to Maitimo despite the fear. He remembers how good to him Maitimo was about it, how glorious it was to see what Maitimo was feeling. He remembers the night they made this agreement and how when Maitimo asked what he wanted, he didn't hesitate for a second, he asked for trust songs and put his soul in Maitimo's hand because that was the answer. He remembers love.

Yeah. He's going to be fine. He isn't yet, but he will be.

He listens. And he picks up Taliar's soul again and lets go of it only when he's snuggled in bed next to him.

Pain and fear and anger and intolerable intimacy and love and determination and—

He breathes, lets his mind come back to him in its own time. Notices Maitimo snuggling him. Chooses to smile, turn toward him, close his eyes and acknowledge his heart-pounding terror and then hug Maitimo anyway.

You're doing so well, I'm so proud of you. 

He grins.

Aww. Love you forever, he says, feeling proud and validated and warm and cozy and happy and loved. And terrified, still definitely terrified, but he's on top of it for now, he's going to be fine and he knows it.

Sing to you?

He thinks about it, and - yep, he is completely fucking terrified, but at the same time he feels secure enough to be capable of consenting to mind control on a level his soul will accept. The question, then, is whether he wants to...

Well. He's very, very curious what Maitimo will do to his mind right now if given the opportunity. And he bets that getting high on trust songs straight out of this much fear will be such a rush.

Yes.

And Maitimo sings. 

Yeah, that's a rush all right.

All the fear, all the doubt goes away, and he can't imagine how he could ever have had trouble loving Maitimo, wanting him, forgiving him everything— I want you to write your name on me again, I want you to touch my soul, I want you to fuck me, I love you so much, love you forever—

Oh, Taliar, he says delightedly, I'm going to do all of those things -

- and then, while holding onto Taliar's soul, he is going to stop singing, he is going to let the song wear off....

The stability of soul-touching dissolves into interconnected cascades of joy and pride and love and fear - fear is the biggest, but it pulls pride and love along with it, the more terrified he gets the more he feels like his resilience is being appropriately respected and it's so deeply affirming, and he's so glad that Maitimo can do these things to his mind and so terrified of that same fact and this cascade feels so much faster than the first one, he's starting to be afraid it will really actually break him but he will not fucking let it and so determination joins the mix—

And he listens intently and is so fascinated and so happy -

The chain reaction spirals up faster and faster. There has got to be some sort of magical effect preventing soul-sourced emotions from breaking the minds that experience them, because the whole mess is starting to get too big to read properly and it's still going strong.

That'd be convenient if true, he does not want to break his Taliar. He holds it a while longer and then lets go.

His Taliar is still breathing, but that's just about all he's doing.

Minutes pass by. He recovers enough mental function to notice the exhausted blankness of his own mind, and then to remember what caused it, and then to freeze in terror at the thought of it happening again, and then he starts remembering the many other good reasons to freeze in terror that he has experienced today, and by that point he's more or less recovered but very very panicked.