[Joseph doesn't answer Caesar right away. He just kisses him again instead because he can, because there's almost this magnetic pull between the two of them and that sense of inevitability that doesn't feel quite so terrifying because Caesar is warm and safety and home. Home. Joseph desperately wants to believe, but he can't make himself cross that line. He hates that feeling of futility. Probably not as much as Caesar does because if there's one thing that he equates to worthlessness, it's futility. But Joseph feels it because he's used to everything coming easy to him. It doesn't matter what it is, everything comes to him almost naturally as soon as he decides it's what he wants. He'd nearly gone his whole life not having to fight for a damn thing.]
[By the time he breaks off the kiss with Caesar, his breathing is a little more ragged with greedier pulls of air.]
I promised you I would, [he breathes.] I won't leave you behind, Caesar.
[It's a dangerous promise to make. Maybe even an impossible one. Definitely not one that he should make. But he's drunk on the taste of Caesar's skin and kisses and lost on the feeling of wanting and being wanted that he can't see it that way. He can't look at the line he's coming close to crossing into beyond, the promise that's beneath the ones he's already made to stay at Caesar's side, to always be his friend through everything.]
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[By the time he breaks off the kiss with Caesar, his breathing is a little more ragged with greedier pulls of air.]
I promised you I would, [he breathes.] I won't leave you behind, Caesar.
[It's a dangerous promise to make. Maybe even an impossible one. Definitely not one that he should make. But he's drunk on the taste of Caesar's skin and kisses and lost on the feeling of wanting and being wanted that he can't see it that way. He can't look at the line he's coming close to crossing into beyond, the promise that's beneath the ones he's already made to stay at Caesar's side, to always be his friend through everything.]