#aethdew

Aether cracks his knuckles as the memory of one particular Sibling crosses his mind - a young girl, no more than twenty. Pale and shivering, hacking up a lung into the sleeve of her habit while she curled up in the corner of the waiting area. She was the only one who has arrived at the infirmary alone, a newly anointed Sister of Sin who hadn't found her footing yet. Hadn't found her family yet.

Her pain had been some of the worst for Aether to handle. Not because she was sick, there were other Siblings in far worse condition, but because she was alone. Aether could feel it in his bones the moment he touched her hand. An icy wave of anxiety and regret that had washed over every part of him, an ache even Aether couldn't soothe.

It would pass, he'd assured her. Everyone goes through this - the fear, the loneliness, the feeling that you've made a huge mistake by abandoning everything you knew and loved in the name of something new. Something better. Because there are expectations, assumptions, promises made that paint the church in an ideal, rose-colored light that draws in those eager for a place to belong.

It would pass, he'd assured her. It always does. She would find her routine, find Brothers and Sisters eager to take her under their wing. Find comfort in their Papa's sermons, in prayer and worship, as they all do. Eventually, everything would fall into place. She just needed to give it time. To let it happen.

She'd looked much better once her treatment was complete, had thanked him with a hug he could still feel untold hours later, and Aether was glad to see it. Truly.

But that cold pit of loneliness had stuck around long after she'd left the infirmary, a whirlpool of despair still swirling around in his chest. It's happened a few times before, when he's drained like this, but it's unpleasant all the same. Sore, almost. Like a thorn in his heart, digging deeper with every beat.

He should just go to bed. Make his legs work and drag himself down the impossible distance of the hall. Should collapse into his own bed and try to ignore the chill, the ache, the pounding in his head. He'd get to sleep eventually, right? It would be better than this - at least he'd be laying down. He should at least try.

The kitchen light flips on behind him, and Aether's too tired to jolt.

"Aeth?" A sleep-thick voice creeps into his ears, familiar, and Aether's shoulders sag. "What're you doin' in here?"

The soft patter of bare feet follows, and Aether sighs when their owner comes into view.

"Hey, Dew."

"Hey yourself," the little ghoul mumbles, rubbing at tired eyes. He's dressed in one of Aether's beat-up old shirts and a pair of sunflower printed pajama pants that undoubtedly belong to Sunshine. "I could smell you from my room," he says through a yawn, and Aether cringes. "D'you just get back?"

"Yeah," Aether rasps, working immediately to get his scent under control. It's something he always struggles with on nights like this. "Long day."

He crosses his arms over his chest, rolls his neck, and Dew frowns.

"Looks like more than that." Aether hugs himself a little tighter. "Wanna talk about it?"

"It's nothing," Aether huffs, the guilt of having woken Dewdrop enough to have that thorn sinking in further. "Go back to bed, love, I'm fine."

"Pfft," Dew waves a hand, dismissive, "how many times do I have to tell you you're a shitty liar?"

Aether groans, tosses his glasses to the side to dig the heels of his hands into his burning eyes. He hears Dew's tail thump against the area rug, obvious concern that he must be too tired to hide.

"I just...it was a long day," Aether sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and hunching over. "I'll be fine, I'm just...just tired, that's all."

Warm, bony hands come to rest on his shoulders, and it takes everything Aether has not to whimper at how good that simple touch feels.

"Aether," Dew says, low, "look at me."

He doesn't want to. Knows he too exhausted to hide the way the void in his chest will have darkened his eyes, brought out every line on his face. He knows that if he does, Dew will see the hurt. Hurt that isn't his problem, isn't something he needs to worry about. It's not his job.

"C'mon, Aeth," the little ghoul encourages, one hand leaving a shoulder to glide through Aether's thick, unruly hair. Aether does whimper then, can't help it, but silently prays Dew doesn't hear it. "Please?"

There's something so sincere in that one word that Aether can't deny him. He heaves a mighty sigh, leans back into the couch and begrudgingly lets Dew see.

Those copper eyes bore into him like white hot fire, and it only takes two breaths for Dew to understand.

"Oh, Aether," he breathes, cupping his worn face in those incredible hands. Aether sinks into the touch, something he can't quite name caught in the back of his throat. "What can I do?"

Nothing. Everything. Aether has no idea, too scattered and distracted by the icy claws scratching at his rib cage to do more than shake his head and flex his fingers. Dew won't break his gaze, looking down at him with concern knitting his brow and his mouth turned down at the corners. He brings his own hands up to hold Dew's wrists, overcome by the need for...for...

"Could you just -" a hiccup, one he can't help, "just...remind me I'm not alone?"

The words are miserable to say, a request he feels stupid for making and regrets instantly. Wishes he could take them back the second they pass his lips, a flush of embarrassment rushing up his throat when Dew tips his head. When a lock of golden hair that had slipped from his bun floats across his forehead, those gorgeous eyes gone soft around the edges.

But he doesn't have time to take them back, because Dew's already moving. Gently shaking off Aether's trembling grip and moving to straddle him on the couch. Skinny thighs bracketing his own while Dew settles in, leaning forward to get his arms under Aether's wrinkled white coat, looping them around his waist. Scooching closer until they're chest to chest, no more than their clothes to separate them, and then Dew's resting his head on Aether's shoulder.

"Don't worry, starlight," he lilts, soft as Aether's ever heard him. Dew kisses his neck, no more than a chaste peck. "'S long as I'm around, you never have to be alone."

The little ghoul starts to purr, his unnatural heat seeping into Aether's whole being, and Aether shudders. Wraps him up in strong arms and holds on tight, breathing in cedar and burnt cinnamon. Something so distinctly Dew that it overrides the mess in his head, in his heart, and as it does Aether can do nothing but believe him.

Tonight, Dew’s alone at the nurses desk. There’s a blizzard raging outside and Aether’s usual sibling had called in sick. Probably not really sick. Just reluctant to uncurl from a nice warm bed on a very stormy night. Aether doesn’t mind. Night shifts tend to be boring anyway. Emergencies are rare, and most of their beds now are filled with humans suffering from the flu or some resperatory thing that’s been going around. Both viruses unable to make the jump from human to ghoul, so Dew, unlike the human that was supposed to be here, is safe. His bedside manner leaves a little to be desired. But Aether doesn’t really care about that. All he needs is someone to put pills in cups and measure medicine and hand him something when he’s asked. 

Dew does all of it without complaint. He’s more squeamish than Aether. Proclaiming, without any sort of filter, that he isn’t going to empty any bedpans, Aeth. That’s fucking gross.

Aether doesn’t have the heart to tell him that there aren’t any bedpans in play right now. It’s quiet now–rounds are done. Dew’s settled in behind the nurses station with a book. Booted feet propped up on the desk, leaning just a little too far back in the chair. Aether watches him–can’t help it. Eyes drawn to the way Dew’s lips move a little as he reads, the way they always do when he’s fully engrossed. 

Aether watches the little furrow appear between his brow. He’ll smooth it away with his thumb later, when he finally gets out of here and takes Dew to bed. Pulling that overwarm body against his and pressing his cool fingers to all of the places Dew finds stuck. A clenched jaw, a creased brow, tense shoulders. 

Aether stands at the end of the infirmary hallway and watches him turn page after page. He should do something else. His job isn’t to watch Dewdrop. The abbey counts on him, needs him. His work is important. But he hasn’t been able to do this for months. And Dew has been attentive ever since he got home. Always aware, always watching–the way Aether is now. Cataloging all the little things about him that he missed. 

Dew turns the page again and looks up, meeting Aether’s eyes. Aether can’t hear his chuckle for the distance and the noise of a thousand medical machines around him but he sees it, and the eyeroll that accompanies it. 

“What?” Dew asks, loud enough to be heard but still classifying as a whisper. 

“Nothing.” 

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“Can’t a guy just look?” 

He expects another smartass remark, but what he gets is a little more color on Dew’s cheeks, another eye roll. Eyes darting back down into the book to avoid really looking at Aether–to avoid having to admit that he likes it when Aether looks. 

Aether turns back to his job–spell not broken just interrupted. He stands in front of the big window that overlooks the wide back yard of the abbey and looks out as he counts pills into paper cups labeled with names and times.  The hill that slopes down to the lake. The forest at the far edge. If it was light out he’d be able to see the ridge of Mountain’s favorite greenhouse, and the maze even further off. As it is–all he sees is white. The snow falling in big fluffy flakes–faster than seems possible. Piling high on the grass. Burying the abbey under a blanket of white they won’t be free of until late spring. 

Their easy calm is broken when the infirmary door slams open. Two harried looking siblings burst in, one of them heavily pregnant. There’s sweat beading on her forehead–her habit gone, or forgotten. Auburn hair sticking to her skin in damp clumps. The other sibling holds onto her, supports her weight as best they can as they rush into the infirmary and right up to the nurses desk and a stunned Dewdrop. 

Dew puts his book down. “Uh–Aeth?” 

Aether is already there, coming up behind them to slot against the sister’s other side. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wild and pain filled. He knows this sister–she’s been coming to him for all of her check-ups throughout her pregnancy, no issues, entirely healthy. And, Aether calculates a week early. Nothing to worry about. He puts his hand on the small of her back. 

“How far apart, Isla?”

“Five minutes just like you said,” Isla winces as another contraction hits and she bares down on the nurses station. Dew looks ready to flee. Eyes darting between Aether and the two siblings. 

“Good,” Aether says, calm, low. He pulls Isla and her friend away from the nurses desk and leads them into a room just off of it–empty and freshly cleaned. He gives Isla instructions to change into a hospital gown, and leaves her in her friend’s capable hands while he darts back into the main lobby. Dew’s got his book in his hand again–and his coat slung over his arm. 

“I’ll be in my room when you’re done–”

“I need your help,” Aether says without argument. Gathering things he needs from the nurses station by the arm full. He’s delivered plenty of babies alone–but it’s ill advised. And Dew is right here–he’s not getting out of this. 

“Oh hell no, this is way above my pay grade.” 

“There is no pay grade. Put on some gloves and help me,” Aether pauses, fully looks at Dew. There’s fear in his dilated pupils, in the rushed shallow breaths expanding his chest. Aether pins him with his gaze–allows himself this moment. “Please.” 

Dew sighs, he grimaces. Uncomfortable but unable to say no to Aether–not when he really does need him. He tosses his book down on the desk. “Promise I’m not going to like, accidentally kill a baby or something?” 

“You will not be going anywhere near any babies.” Aether promises, and Dew groans, but snaps on a pair of gloves and follows Aether into the room. Trailing behind him nervously. Isla is on the bed when they get there. Her friend, who introduces themself as Rae, standing up by her head. Their hand carding over Isla’s forehead, brushing sweaty hair away from her temples. Their fingers are laced together. 

Aether talks them through everything he does. Every touch, every movement. It’s as for Isla and Rae as it is for Dew who is still radiationg panic despite having pulled himself together enough that the humans in the room don’t notice. 

Dew, contrary to his own beliefs about hismelf, is good under pressure. Aether won’t tell him this–not yet anyway–but there is no one else he’d rather have with him. Not even the siblings who have training are as level-headed as he is when he needs to be. 

When Aether asks for something, it’s in his hand before the word is all the way out of his mouth. Dew’s warm fingers brushing his. 

As most birth’s go–it’s an arduous process. The snow piles up outside. Isla’s contractions get closer and closer together. Hours pass. Dew gets his shit together. He follows Aether’s orders. Not nearly as squeamish as he pretends to be. Keeping a close eye on Isla’s process as Aether flits around for IV’s and blood pressure machines, and a thousand other things. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Isla says late in the game–minutes before Aether is going to tell her to start pushing. He’s exhausted his back hurts. Rae consoles her, pets her hair and tells her that of course she can. She shakes her head, vehement. 

“No. I can’t. I can’t be a mom. What am I doing?” 

Aether opens his mouth, not sure what’s going to come out, trying to find the right words despite his exhaustion. Dew places a warm hand on Isla’s knee and cuts him off. 

“Sure you can,” Dew says, soft, sure. “You’re doing this. This is fucking brutal. Being a mom can’t be worse than this.” 

And though Aether knows that isn’t true–Dew probably does too–it seems to take some of the edge off. Maybe just from the surprise of Dew actually butting in. But Isla looks at him, pain morphing her face, she laughs, bitter and relieved at the same time. 

“Yeah. This does suck a lot.” 

“See,” Dew squeezes her knee. “Just a few more minutes and this part will be over and then it’s the good part. You’ve got this. No backing out now.” 

Aether doesn’t know where those words come from. Dew who hates all children–ghoul and human alike. Who a few hours ago was about to tuck tail and run–to be out of Aether’s sight line for the first time in weeks just because this was about to happen near him. Saying shit like this? Encouragement? Enthusiasm. 

Determination settles over Isla’s face, she nods at Dew once. Sharp. And then turns her eyes to Aether. “I’m ready to get to the good part.” 

It’s quick after that. And before long Aether is handing Isla a screaming baby. It’s another hour before he can take a small break. The baby cleaned and swaddled, snuggled up with it’s mother. Rae resting fitfully in the chair while Isla stares at her baby. Aether leaves them to it and walks out into the lobby to find the sun rising. Pink hues casting over the floor. Blizzard over. The world outside the windows snow bright and fresh. He finds Dew at the nurses station, book in hand again, nose firmly in it. Brow creased. 

Aether kisses him right between where his horns would be and Dew looks up and over at him. Looking exhausted. Eyes fighting to stay open.

 “Hey,” he rasps, saving his place in the book and setting it on the desk. Aether brushes an errand strand of hair behind Dew’s ear. 

“Go back to your room. I’ll meet you there as soon as I switch with Omega.” 

Dew shakes his head. He leans his head against Aether’s bicep. “I’m good. I’ll wait.” 

“You’re going to have to detach from me at some point you know?” 

“Yeah. But not yet,” Dew shrugs. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

“Leech.” 

“Mmhm,” Dew nods. Eyes fluttering as he leans into Aether’s body. They’re quiet for a moment, the quiet only broken by a ragged cough from a room down the hall. 

“Thanks for staying–for helping,” Aether says softly. “I know that isn’t your thing but you really–”

“It wasn’t that bad.” 

“You going to tell me where all that sappy shit in there came from?” Aether teases, then sobers. “You were incredible, really.” 

Dew tips his head and opens his eyes, looking up at Aether with adoration that threatens to knock the breath from his lungs. He shrugs. “I mean. Just kind of thought of it like tour. Get the hard part over with. Get to the good part.” 

Don't mind the fact that they're all into it, Dewdrop still refuses to admit that he’s got it. He refuses to admit that he mewls at being manhandled, his body locking in pleasure when he is picked up and fucked against a wall. He denies the way he slips underneath the fog when they have him on his back, his knees pressed to his shoulders, exposing all that he is to his mates who bear down all of their weight onto him.

He cums just like that—eyes rolling to the back of his skull, jaw hanging open for a soundless moan.

It is the sexiest thing ever, so of course they decided to see what else of his size kink could they exploit.

Currently, and no shock there, it were Mountain and Aether who could make him squirt, his cock leaking and his walls spasming around theirs as he whimpers and whines because they fucked him stupid. Because they hit somewhere just a little deeper, snug against the muscles of his flesh, and turned his brain into a little mush.

It makes him choke, his words gurgled.

He is so, so beautiful like this—his spun gold hair is sticking to his sweaty, flushed skin, and his lips are so kiss-swollen and spit-slicked.

“Shh,” Aether croons.

He has Dewdrop for today, and the others are left to hear and scent the peaking pleasure of their little firefly.

He pulled Dewdrop to his lap, the smaller ghoul’s back pressed flush against Aether’s chest. Dew’s naked, shivering, stuffed, and Aether is still fully clothed—a power play, one that had Dew hissing at him only to end up like this.

His legs are thrown over Aether’s, the tips of his toes don’t even touch the floor—this was actually what silenced Dew’s angry burst. He balked at the simple way that Aether reminded him of their size difference, of how greatly he outmatched Dewdrop, and he went putty. Shivering. Brain turned off as he pawed at the side of Aether’s leg because he still refuses to beg.

That’s fine, Aether didn’t need him to. After all, there were many more ways to render Dewdrop into a sobbing mess, and all it took was to strip him off his clothes and fuck his cock into Dew’s already leaking hole.

“So warm ‘round me, petal,” Aether murmurs, before leaning back into the cushions, body sagging into it in comfort. It jostles the two of them, driving Aether further into Dew.

The new breach has Dew warbling out a whimper, his breath rasping out in wheezes as pleasure razes him. He clamps down on Aeth’s dick, his body lifting as he squirms, toes curled, and his head falling into the soft pudge of Aether’s chest.

He is crying, outright sobbing at the overwhelming euphoria filling him up. Sharp nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, tearing the skin open—more bruises; more proof of how good they’d made him feel.

Aether goes cross-eyed himself, his breath turning into a gritted hiss at the tight clench of Dew’s walls. 

Satanas. 

Dewdrop is a marvel. He is a freakish accident because Aether knew, even when the denial was strong from Imperator, that the ritual forced onto Dew was intended to burn him into nothing. There were precedents of this ritual of course, but all the ghouls forced into it had died. They were not banished to the pits, instead, they perished. Not even their remnants remained. 

(Omega had warned him that the Church held no affection nor respect for their kind. It took Dewdrop’s elemental change for it to truly sink in.)

But their starfire survived. Amidst all odds, Dewdrop had gritted through the burning of his flesh and the emptying of his element, and forged himself into something extraordinary. He is a miracle.

And Aether could not fathom how blessed he is to have Dewdrop as his mate. That this little star is his.

“Fuck, Dew,” he moans, guttural, his hands tightening around the fire ghoul’s waist. He is so overwhelmed with his emotions, pleasure and affection and lovelovelove are all blending together. He staggers at the intensity of it all, the storm raging on in his chest.

His tiny mate is squirming, calling his name and yowling with pleasure, and Aether keens. He is so in love. So addicted.

Amidst the pleasure, he maps his hands—big and callused—along Dewdrop’s body. He traces the supple flesh, quintessence seeping into his touch as Aether loses his hold on his element, before his hands fall on top of Dew’s belly.

Aether stills, tamping down on the jitters that are racking his own body. He clears his mind, forces himself to focus because here, right here, is where he and Dewdrop are the closest.

“D’you feel me here, love?” Aether asks, his voice rumbling from his chest and reverberating into Dew’s back. He hooks his chin on the fire ghoul’s shoulder, his eyes flicking down to gaze at the flushed body of his mate. Pre- beads on the slit of Dew’s flushed cock, pearly and pretty, and Aether vows to get down to his knees and lap it all up later. Much later. Because for now—

“A-Aeth…” Dew mewls, too overtaken with his ecstasy to notice.

To feel what it is that has Aether’s heart hammering. So Aeth takes pity on him.

He puts pressure on his hold, his hand slowly digging into Dew’s stomach. Dew’s breath hitches, his eyes peeling open. Clarity seems to seep back into him, holding him suspended just for a moment as Aether pushes and pushes and—

“I’m all the way here, Dew.”

Dewdrop cums, just like that, with Aether’s name spilling from his mouth. 

Aether pets him throughout, whispering promises of filth and care into Dew’s ear because they’re just not done yet.