#tbh this is probably housefire compliant

[makoredeyes]

6, Saint/Osiris/Felwinter

whooo! we got a soggy one!

#6 - on a falling tear

It... was time. Nestled securely between Saint and Felwinter as they three curled together on the couch as he was, Osiris thought it would have been easy to open up about what had transpired in the Pits of Luna and after. Instead, he was finding that repeating the tale of his pursuit of Xivu Arath and her High Celebrant, the loss of Sagira, and his subsequent enslavement by Savathun was quite possibly one of the most difficult endeavors he'd ever embarked on.

The telling was simple enough. He'd told the story so many times now he could speak the words without even thinking them, without hearing his own voice. He could almost say Sagira's name without his voice breaking.

Almost.

(no he couldn't)

What he could not take were his lovers' reactions.

Saint knew it all far too well by now. It had taken some time for him to get the whole story, Osiris forcing him to piece it together, and he thought that perhaps this was the first time the Titan had heard it all cohesively from start to finish. But he did know it, and he'd had his time to grieve with Osiris.

He lamented picking those wounds raw once more, but supposed Saint did own some of that pain by insisting he remain with him while Osiris fulfilled his promise to Felwinter to fill him in.

Those scabs, even rubbed raw and aching again, were old and at least somewhat healed over now. The pain dulled. Saint hissed and growled softly here and there as Osiris spoke, his arms firm around his side of the  Warlock, but he no longer carried the explosive rage he once had.

His fuse had burned down. The seeds of his ire had been sewn, and the fallout from his behavior had been mended between them. They had moved on as best they could for better or worse.

But Felwinter.

Felwinter...

Osiris could feel his body gradually tighten against his side. He was getting quieter and quieter. He'd surpassed the limits of humanity, and was now too quiet, too still to pass as a normal Exo. It'd been a long time since Osiris had seen him this rigid. He'd gotten so much better at blending in. Even his body got too cold, roaring fans the only sound from him at all.

He was the opposite of Saint in this regard. He processed pain and rage so much differently. It frightened Osiris just a little: not for himself, but for Felwinter. What would his beloved do, now? Osiris wasn't sure but he worried about it.

"Osiris..." Felwinter's soft voice cut through his ruminations, and a gentle hand on his chin lifted his gaze. Osiris looked up from where he realized he'd been staring down into his hands on his lap, twisted into tight fists. He'd curled up into a knot, knees pulled in tight, ankles tucked beneath himself. He didn't remember moving. His eyes stung, and he blinked, grimacing when a tear escaped. Felwinter's eyes narrowed in one of his subtle, concerned frowns, and he leaned in, catching it with a kiss before it ran off Osiris' cheek. Osiris' breath hitched and he looked away, pulling from his beloved's gentle grip only to come face to face with Saint, who met him with the same exact treatment. "It is over, Osiris," Saint said softly, laying another kiss, damp and salt-tinged, over his lips. "And we are here for you." Felwinter bent deep to press his face into the back of  Osiris' neck, mouthing warm skin there, and nodded, squeezing him firmly where he held him. Osiris' breath caught again, and though he began to sob in earnest, he smiled, nodding.

"I know," he gasped, wiping angrily at his eyes only for Felwinter to look up and catch one hand, kissing the wetness away from his palm. Osiris' breath shook, but he didn't pull his hand away, turning his face into more peppering kisses from Saint while Felwinter began to lavish each fingertip.

"Light, I know..."

It would be okay, he thought. They wouldn't allow it to be anything else.