Work Text:
Thanatos has more insight into the Fates than most.
He falls far short of the maddening, acrid, unwelcome visions of oracles; he can no more tell what will happen in the next moment than any other being could, mortal or immortal. Nor does he entirely wish to know - he has seen often enough, in his line of work, what life is like for those who see too much.
Yet there are times he has a sense of something nonetheless. The call of fate is as familiar to him as the rush of the void; he would hardly be able to work otherwise, with the speed at which the sisters weave and measure and cut. He flatters himself that, after all these eternities at their beck and call, he might have gained something of a sense for the handiwork of his clever, far-off siblings.
Or maybe , he thinks, and realizes he hasn't blinked in a while, I'm just tired. Zag has the right idea - his chest rises and falls slowly, the sedate beat of his heart just visible beneath his skin in the placid moment after he's breathed out, but before it's clear when he'll breathe in again. The space between one banal second and the next shouldn't feel so significant, so threaded together, when it's nothing more than being twisted up in the quilt, watching torchlight dance across Zag's face like it's perfectly at home there. Or work is calling. That seems more likely. Work is always calling.
He closes his eyes for a moment longer than he means to. He keeps them closed longer when he feels the mattress shift. He waits to hear why he should open them again, but all that changes is that Zag's warm fingers cup the back of his head and begin brushing along the slightly-too-long stubble of his hair, making it just a little bit harder to pretend to be irritated. He sighs, reflects that it definitely came out with the right mix of resignation and genuine pleasure, and looks at Zag with calculated evenness. "What?"
"You're quiet again." Zag's thumb marks an idle, halting parabola to Than's cheekbone and back, up and down.
"I said I would be."
"I know, I'm not worrying or anything," Zag says, a little too quickly. He grins sheepishly at the look Than levels at him. "Er, I'm trying not to, that is."
"I appreciate it." Than's tone is flat as stone; he can't help but smile a little when Zag laughs anyways.
"Just, you know, can't help but wonder what's going on in there." Zag's fingers have migrated, swooping down to the dip in Than's collarbones. "How many guesses do I get?"
"One."
"Oh come on now, that's hardly fair!" Zag draws closer, until their noses are almost touching. His skin radiates vital heat, even through the blankets between them. "Do I get a hint?"
Than doesn't flinch. "No." I'm thinking of you, and me, and how the Fates must have intended this.
"Hmmm..."
Zag stares. Than wills him to see, somehow, the outline of his thoughts just behind his eyes. I'm wondering how long I knew what they were telling me, without noticing that I knew.
"You're thinking about..." Zag makes a show of deliberation, squinting and hmm-ing, uneven irises dancing up and to the sides as if struggling to recall some final piece of the puzzle.
Than bites his tongue. All he wants to know - has it been he alone who has felt the spider silk hung between them, drawn taut and trembling with the weight of the future in the moments before words are said? Has he been the only one to feel its chiding pull when they are apart, holding him always to the destiny through which it weaves? Do you know that it was only ever you, for me? Do you care? He can't say it; it would ruin the answer.
"Well," Zag says suddenly, having clearly come to the end of the thread of his thoughts. "This is going to sound pretty arrogant, but I think you're thinking about me."
Than lets out a breath, slowly; some of the tension drops from his shoulders. "You're right."
"I am?" Zag's eyes light up for a second, before he remembers all of what he said. "...Wait, as in, I got the answer right, or as in, it sounds arrogant?"
"Both," Than clarifies mercilessly. He is the only one, he thinks, to see some part of how they have circled each other, like stars tracking in their set ways through the emptiness beyond the earth. That isn't the worst thing, though, as long as his counterpart still feels some tug of gravity. "You are going to lose some points due to ambiguity, though. You could have said 'existence' or 'time', and you would have been right, in part."
"Sure, alright, but a partial win still means I win, doesn't it?"
"What would make you think that?" Than scoffs.
"You always let me have the match whenever we tie out there!" Zag leans the rest of the way in and kisses him, once, twice. "You can't start changing the rules now."
"I am not susceptible to bribery," Than insists, even as Zag is hovering over him further, a palm on his shoulder urging him onto his back.
Muffled, "You are."
"I'm not," Than says evenly, letting his head fall to the side on the pillow as Zag leaves a trail of kisses along his jaw. "You just mistake my fondness for you for getting your way."
"Oof. Well, there are worse ways to be wrong." He's resting his weight on his elbow, having draped his entire upper body, and much of the rumpled bedclothes, over Than's chest. His lips twitch tighter, and a furrow settles between his eyebrows. "Speaking of time, I'm not...keeping you from anything, am I?"
Than doesn't bother focusing long enough to check. "Of course you are. If it mattered, I would already have left."
"Ah."
"Don't worry about my responsibilities," he says, and his eyes say just enough more.
Zag bridges the distance between them; Than feels the thread pull through his fingers.