for game: uncharted ship of your choice!!!
Heyy, thank you! And I'm so sorry for the long wait! I wanted to do this ask game because I felt like I needed some inspiration to write, and then I immediately got attacked by a wave of new ideas XD
Anyway, I planned to write a little something about Sully and his wife he had before Nate, but to make up for the long wait, have a fluffy, self-indulgent Nate X Reader (my first time writing an xReader, I'm surprisingly happy with it ^^)
TO THE FUTURE
Nate has been silent today. Which wouldn't mean much if you were here with anybody else - you've spent the entirety of the last two weeks waltzing through this godforsaken jungle, hunting after an ancient treasure, being hunted by insects, a group of rivaling treasure hunters and a wild jaguar.
Which is just to say: most people would've been kind of down if this hunt proved for naught. You reached the supposed treasure yesterday, and you and Nate spent two full minutes staring at the opened chest before you. The hinges were rusted into position, the chest as a whole taken back by the jungle. It had been found a long time ago. You were too late.
Now the thing is that Nathan Drake will not be quiet for an entire day if he's dead. You've known him for a while now. You can imagine that people like him were once the reason for all the legends about vampires - because he would definitely climb out of his grave, not to drink blood, but because he wants to ramble to somebody about something.
He hasn't said a word since yesterday. And now that you've set up your last camp before you'll reach the city tomorrow and hopefully get a flight out of this humid hell, it starts to really worry you.
"Nate?", you ask, carefully looking over at him as he stares at the river. "Are you ... okay?"
He doesn't answer at first, scratching over his stubble thoughtfully.
"Nate?"
"Huh?" The scratching stops, and for the first time in more than a day, you think he's actually seeing you. "Sorry, what?"
"Are you alright? You've been quiet."
He sighs a little, just a tiny huff, like he has been worried about this question. Scratches his stubble. Scratches the angry red where one of the insect got him. Touches the makeshift bandage where one of the treasure hunters got him. Stares at the long streak on your arm where the jaguar got you.
You're a fucked up and beaten pair, and it makes you almost smile.
"We're going to leave," he suddenly says, looking up at you for a moment, unable to hold your gaze. "Now that the ... treasure has not been here. We're going to go back to our old lives, don't we?"
You shrug. "Probably." Maybe a joke will cheer him up?" I'm not going to miss being attacked by a jag when I'm actually busy dodging bullets. I think one of those suffices."
"Ha, yeah." He tries to smile. He really does. But it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Nate? What're you -"
"But I'm going to miss you," he suddenly blurts out, immediately running his hands over his face like he can't believe he sad that out loud. And then, still, he says it again. "I'm going to miss you. Once we're back ... we've been looking for this threasure for almost two years together, and now it's just over, and we will go back to how it was ... before." He shrugs, at a loss.
You feel at a loss, too. And only when you find his surprised blue eyes zooming in on yours do you realise that you've put a hand on his bare forearm. You can feel the hairs on his arm stand on end with the touch.
"We don't have to," you say quietly. "Not forever. We both need a bit of time to rest, but after that ... there's enough treasures to be found, aren't they?" You grin wryly. "Or to be hunted, at least. Since I'm not sure if you've ever really found a treasure -"
"Hey!" He raises a warning finger. "I have found plenty! I am an excellent treasure hunter!"
"You're also excellent at hiding it, then. Since you've never found one while I was around."
"We've only been looking for one!"
"And didn't find it. That makes a quota of a hundred per cent failure."
"That might say more about you than it does about me."
"Like what?"
He shrugs, apparently lured out of his grave of silence by the promise of a future, however unclear that might be.
"Maybe you're bad luck," he teases, and you can't help but laugh in surprise.
"Oh now it's my fault?"
"Hmmm, no." And he finally smiles, right up to his eyes, and it makes you wonder why somebody with such a glittering soul is hunting mere worldly riches. "Or maybe I do. I'm willing to forgive you, though."
"Hmmm." Your hand draws abstract ornaments on his bare forearm. "I'm glad to hear it."
A few beats pass as you both watch your finger trail over his skin.
"Are you being honest about this?", he finally asks, careful. "Because, I mean, I could understand if you -"
"I'd miss it, too, Nate," you jut in. "I ... I mean, I don't think I'll miss being shot at, but I'd miss the rest of this. I'll... I'll miss you." You look up at him, getting lost in his eyes, in the soft contour of his lips, contrasted by the stubble around them, the little scar on his jaw ...
His hand reaches out to your face, cups it gently. You have barely time to close your eyes before he breathes a kiss on your lips. Not your first. Not your last.
"To the future," he whispers, the words catching on your teeth and tongue, and you turn them around to give them back, a sweet promise you didn't know you were so eager to make.
"To the future."
