#ferarepairweek2k17

“Where are they?” He thought as he walked around the castle. He went to check on you earlier, but you weren’t in your chambers. He thought you were spending hours late into the night trying to summon heroes again, so he went to the summoning grounds only to not find you there. So he did his best to look calm as he looked for you as an old fear of his began to resurface. 

He did not like the idea of you disappearing like Zacharias had.

He checked your chambers again to make sure he hadn’t missed you the first time and asked several of the Heroes that you had summoned if they had seen you. Only one of them saw you headed to the library, muttering something about a lesson and with that answer, he practically darted off.

“Of course,” He thought, “That makes more sense.” He put some of his fears to rest. It made sense to him that you would be learning more about strategy and you did say that you were headed to the library as well. You’ve been trying to improve it for weeks, but lessons? Who was giving you lessons?

It was a question that would soon be answered as he entered the library. He spotted your form on a table in the center of the room. He was wondering how to question you as he approached you, but then he noticed something strange. When he got close, it became clear to him that you’ve fallen asleep. 

Your head rested on one arm while your other arm was stretched far across the table as if you were holding something that wasn’t there anymore. Your hood was up, which blocked the light away from your face and it hid all your facial expressions as well.

He was about to shake you awake when he heard a voice from behind him.

“I’ve already tried that.”

He turns around to find the Hero tactician. Robin, nonchalantly putting away a book on the shelf.

“They fell asleep almost about an hour ago. I went to grab another book to look up something and I turn around to find that they’ve fallen asleep. It seemed pointless to keep everything there, so I started to put everything back. Well, at least now I understand more of how Chrom felt.” Robin said.

“I see,” Alfonse said, unsure how to comment on what he said. “Pardon for asking, but have they been coming to the library for the past few weeks?”

“Why yes,” Robin replied, “They’ve been asking me and several others about some advice on strategy as well. Even Virion showed up at one point. Frankly, I don’t know why they’re doing this either. What happened on the battlefield?”

“I’m not sure either,” Alfonse admitted, “They came back a few weeks looking pretty shaken up and the heroes that were with them wouldn’t tell us anything either. I know it may sound pointless to hear me ask this, but do you have any idea as to why they’ve been acting like this?”

“Well...” Robin said, “To tell you the truth, their manner is reminding me of the time when we lost Exalt Emmeryn... After our retreat, I remember spending long days and nights in Regna Ferrox’s library trying to account for every possible outcome that could happen when we would face the Mad King again. Thankfully Chrom and the others talked me out of it or else I might have gone mad myself.”

“You think something like that happened?” Alfonse asked.

“Nothing to that extreme of course,” Robin said, “But something like that yes. Alfonse, do you think they’re a good tactician?”

“Of course,” Alfonse answered, “They’re one of the best and their skill could rival yours.”

“If you think that’s true,” Robin said, “then that’s something you need to tell them. I have a feeling that they would like to hear that from you and maybe we would find out what exactly is going on. Now if you excuse me, I need to take my leave and try a new change of scenery for once. Maybe even catch up with some people from my world. I bid you a good evening Prince Alfonse.”

And with that Robin left the library, leaving the two of you alone. Unsure of what to do, Alfonse tried his original plan of shaking you awake. He put his hand on your shoulder and he shook it.

“...What...” You mumbled.

“Kiran, come on we need to talk,” Alfonse said.

You got off slowly and took off your hood. You rubbed your eyes for a bit and yawned, “What time is it?”

“A bit past 10,” Alfonse answered, “Is this where you’ve been for the past few weeks?”

You stretched your arms, “...Pretty much... Where did Robin go?”

“He wanted to catch up with some Heroes from his world,” Alfonse said, “You fell asleep on him.”

“I-I did. I should apologize to him. I only meant to close my eyes for a second” You yawned, “But that’s good for him.”

“Kiran, what is going on?” Alfonse asked, “You’ve been acting like this for weeks now. What happened out there?”

“I-I don’t want to talk about it.” You replied. “I-it’s not important. L-look, I need to get some sleep, so I’ll see-”

“No,” He said sternly, “Look, you’re one of the best tacticians we ever had and if you’re acting weird then it affects the whole army.”

“I’m sorry if I made anyone worried,” You said, “but I’m fine. I just want to plan some stuff ahead of time that’s all.”

“Kiran,” He said, “Embla hasn’t made its move for a month. Now all of a sudden you want to plan ahead of time? What did you see out there?”

“I-it’s complicated,” You said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then tell me so I can.” He said. “We’re partners, aren’t we? You can tell me whatever’s troubling you. You don’t have to face it alone.”

You sigh, “Alright, alright... I’ll tell you. A few weeks ago while I was training the newest Heroes I summoned, we were attacked by the Mysterious Man. As you would expect, we were defeated easily. Before I could summon a light’s blessing like I normally would, he attacked me. Then he went on saying how I was useless if I didn’t learn how to fight and how anyone else would have killed me on the spot. He was so distracted in his monologuing that I managed to summon another set of heroes to fight him instead.”

“So why didn’t any of the Heroes say anything?” Alfonse asked.

“When Heroes are defeated, they don’t remember anything prior to being defeated,” You answered, “And I didn’t tell the second set what actually happened. They just knew I was in trouble.”

“I see,” Alfonse said,  “But why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted, “I panicked and I was freaked out and I wanted to make sure nothing like that happened again. It’s just pure luck that I’ve made it this far. I’ve been relying on instinct all this time and I didn’t want to fail again like I did.”

“But you didn’t fail,” Alfonse said, “You’re here, aren’t you? Everyone makes mistakes and people get caught off guard. Did I ever tell you about the chicken incident?”

“The chicken incident?” You ask, “No I don’t recall.”

“Zacharias might actually kill me if I told you,” He admitted, “But when we were younger, there was a village that we visited far from the capital. Me, Sharena and Zacharias were playing with some farm animals when Zacharias accidently tripped on a chicken. Next thing we know, he was getting attacked by a whole bunch of them. Zacharias was picking feathers out of his clothing for weeks after that. Ever since then, we may have threatened to bring that up every time we bribed him into doing something else.”

You were stunned by that revelation. Ever since he was brought up, there was nothing but praise about the missing lancer. Hearing that story made the both of them sound human for once, but you didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

“And your point is?” You asked.

“Like I said,” Alfonse said, “We all have our shortcomings. You don’t have to face it alone. Whether it be chickens or otherwise, we can't predict everything that would be thrown at us. You don't need to beat yourself up about every single mistake. I'm here to help however I can."

"Ok Alfonse," You sighed. You felt a big weight lift off your shoulders. You didn't realize how much you needed to hear that. "Look it's really late... I should get to bed."

"Allow me to accompany you at least." Alfonse said, "You look like you look like you could pass out at any moment."

"Alright," You agreed and together you two left the library.

Oscar is not quite sure how to respond, but luckily Kieran keeps shouting, so he doesn’t have to figure it out.

“And since you have bested me, you...” Kieran stares appraisingly at Oscar. “You squinty-eyed dastard, you have now thrown down the gauntlet. From this day forward, we are sworn rivals, and I will not rest until I have restored my honor by besting you in every contest of knightly prowess! Prepare yourself, Sir...”

“Oscar.” Oscar supplies. “I’m Oscar. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice is the last thing our ill-fated meeting is!” Kieran booms, building up steam again. “Mark my words, rival of mine, you will rue the day that you crossed Kieran, Crimean Royal Knight in Training, 3rd Squa-”

“Yes, I’m sure I’ll be doing a lot of rueing.” Oscar feels guilty for cutting him off, but it doesn’t look like he was winding down anytime soon and Oscar does have to meet some friends for lunch. “But right now I have a prior engagement. Perhaps we can postpone our rematch to another day?”

“Taking the coward’s way out, are we?” Kieran asks, and Oscar wonders if Kieran has any volume other than Incredibly Loud. “Very well, if you need time to prepare, then so be it! I will not face off against my rival at anything but his absolute best, and victory will be all the sweeter for it! So prepare yourself well, because...”

Oscar begins to edge away experimentally to see if Kieran will notice. He doesn’t seem to notice, or even to stop his soliloquizing, or at least Oscar doesn’t hear him stop until he enters the stables, well out of sight and finally out of earshot of the strange young man.

Oscar assumes that this singular encounter will be just that: a one time occurrence that he can laugh about with his friends later. But once Kieran has entered his life, he begins to show up in all parts of it.

Kieran finds Oscar on the training fields and insists that Oscar spar with him, ignoring Oscar’s protests that Kieran’s axe has an advantage over his lance Oscar later finds out that Kieran may have a weapon advantage, but that in his exuberance, Kieran is much more likely to hit himself with his axe than he is to hit Oscar.

He finds Oscar in the stables and challenges him to see who is the best at grooming horses.

“A knight’s horse is a reflection of his own chivalrous spirit! Although your horse may be as squintily handsome as its rider, my horse’s strength and devotion will win the day.” Kieran declares.

“Did you just call me handsome?” Oscar asks.

Kieran splutters, cheeks reddening to match his hair. “Do not try to distract me from our knightly contest with false accusations! I can see right through your villainous plot. Now, to the curry comb!”

He finds Oscar in the mess hall and exclaims about Oscar’s dastardly taste in food. Apparently, a true Royal Crimean Knight would never succumb to the seduction of the vile vegetables.

“Vegetables are delicious, you just need to know how to cook them.” Oscar says, happily eating his broccoli.

Kieran looks utterly disgusted. “Your falsehoods never cease, rival! There is no greater enemy of manly pursuits than broccoli.”

“You just haven’t tasted it cooked right.” Oscar tells him. “They just steam it here, and there’s no seasoning. I’ll cook it for you the right way sometime, and then you can see if you really like it.”

Kieran mumbles something about poison and schemes to which he will not fall prey, but he can’t help but look slightly curious.

Oscar’s friends don’t like Kieran constantly popping up. He’s strange, he’s loud, and he doesn’t quite fit in with anyone. They try to commiserate with Oscar about the fact that the local weirdo has taken a liking to him, but Oscar just smiles and says “He’s not so bad, once you get to know him.”

“You’re way too nice, Oscar. No one has the patience to ‘get to know’ that piece of work.” One of Oscar’s friends says.

“Not really. It’s not about being nice, I genuinely do like him.” Oscar says, and his friends stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

The fact is that Oscar does like Kieran. Yes, he is eccentric, and very, very, loud, but well, something about the passion and utter lack of shame with which he approaches life is somehow endearing.

And strangely enough, being around Kieran is the least stressed that Oscar has ever felt. It’s not extraordinary that Kieran likes him, because everyone likes Oscar. He is a hard worker, a good listener, a dependable friend, and a talented knight, but not obviously talented enough that he makes his classmates with egos that are larger than their skill sets uncomfortable. People like him because whatever they need, Oscar will be it for them.

Kieran, for all his yelling, does not need anything from Oscar other than Oscar simply being there. Kieran has decided that Oscar is his counterpart, his rival, and no matter what Oscar has done since then, he has not swayed from that declaration.

Honestly, it’s flattering. Kieran calls Oscar a dastard, calls him a fiend, calls him his sworn rival, calls him all manner of things, but he never calls him boring, and Oscar can’t help but like him more than most of the other people there.

Then Oscar’s father dies and he puts everything on hold-the Crimean Royal Knights, his dreams of working his way up in the ranks, his “rivalry” with Kieran-in order to return home and take care of his two brothers. He tries to tell Kieran that he is leaving, but Kieran does not seem to believe him, or perhaps he refuses to believe him, and Oscar leaves without a proper goodbye.

Oscar loves his family dearly and though he does not resent having to come back to Boyd and Rolf, taking care of a child and a teenager when he is barely an adult himself is quite a strain, and he often thinks fondly on his time in the Crimean Royal Knights, when his biggest responsibility was making sure Kieran got to a healer after he hit himself with his axe after over-enthusiastic sparring.

Oscar thinks of Kieran often, and when Rolf cannot sleep he tells him stories about the great Sir Simpleton and his numerous exploits. Although Boyd claims he is too old for bedtime stories, the tales of Sir Simpleton are funny enough that he cannot help but listen in. Later, when they join the Greil Mercenaries, Sir Simpleton stories become a staple around the campfire.

Three years pass, and Oscar and his brothers build a life with the Greil Mercenaries. It is not as glamorous as his service with the Crimean Knights, and there is no possibility for advancement, but Oscar has always been a man of simple pleasures, and working and fighting beside his family, both blood and otherwise, brings him a sense of contentment.

Is it what he wants for his whole life? He is not sure, but for now it is certainly good enough. He packs away his old ambitions somewhere deep inside himself, and his time in the Crimean Knights, Kieran included, fade into the background as a fond but distant memory.

Then the continent plunges into war and Oscar finds himself in the employ of the princess of Crimea, and suddenly their simple mercenary life becomes much less simple.

Oscar is opening a cell in the dungeon of a Daein-held castle when he hears a still familiar voice.

“Ah! It’s you!” The voice calls, and Oscar peers into the darkness of the cell, barely able to make out the figure inside.

“I could never forget that squint! Knights of Crimea, twelfth regiment...your name is Oscar!” The owner of the voice emerges, but Oscar does not need to see the flame red armor and redder hair to know that improbable as it is, he has just rescued Kieran.

“And you’re...” Oscar trips over the words, mouth working faster than his brain, which is still trying to process the fact that Kieran is here. “You’re Kieran.”

“That is correct!” Kieran declares. “I am Kieran...The same Kieran who has sworn himself to be your eternal rival!“

“Right, right, of course. So...how’ve you been? You look good.” The sentence slips out and Oscar realizes that Kieran does look good, or at least as good as anyone who’s been kept prisoner for goddess knows how long can.

“ As always, your manner is listless and inappropriate. It befits one who would call me foe! You were discharged three years ago...” Kieran launches into a tirade, and as much as Oscar would like to catch up, they are still on a battlefield, so he heads out of the cell and counts on the fact that Kieran will follow.

“Boyd.” Oscar calls to his brother. “Do you have that extra hand axe you always carry? We’ve picked up a new companion and he needs a weapon.”

Boyd turns, confused expression only growing moreso when he sees Kieran, still going on about what a thoughtless dastard Oscar is. He hands the axe over to Oscar with a look that tells him he’s going to have to explain this as soon as they’re not in grave danger.

They win the battle, and return to camp with one more soldier than they left with. In the course of the march back, Kieran has barely stopped talking except to breathe (and even then, only rarely) and Boyd’s expression has slowly but steadily morphed from curious to incredibly annoyed.

Rolf is the first one who sees them return. “Sir Simpleton!” He exclaims upon seeing Kieran, who resembles the Sir Simpleton in Oscar’s tales to a shocking degree.

Kieran is not quite sure what to make of this. “Is this an insult I hear? I am no simpleton! No, I am Kieran, Captain of the 5th Platoon of the Crimean Royal Knights. Who dares to address me in such a way?”

Oscar tries to motion to Rolf to go away while he’s placating Kieran. “Don’t worry Kieran, it’s not an insult. Sir Simpleton is the name of a heroic knight in the stories my brothers and I used to listen to growing up, and you happen to look just like him. If anything, it’s a compliment.”

“Do not try to trick me, rival of mine.” Kieran warns. “If I find out that you have been telling falsehoods, there will be hell to pay.”

“No falsehoods, I promise.” Oscar lies. “Now let’s go meet the rest of the group. And maybe this time, try not to swing your axe while you’re talking.”

By this time, the Greil Mercenaries has become a merry band of misfits, and no one bats an eye at Kieran joining their group, although several members do work on making makeshift earplugs.

Like in the Crimean Knights, reactions to Kieran are mixed. Most people tolerate him as well as they can, but some people find him to be worse than a nuisance. Boyd complains that Kierans constant yelling gives him headaches, and Rhys almost passes out after seeing the amount of blood Kieran manages to lose while training by himself.

Rolf, on the other hand, adores him. Kieran loves to tell stories about his own exploits, and he’d managed to have a lot of  them in the three years since Oscar last saw him. On many occasions, Rolf sits in the kitchen while Oscar is preparing dinner, doing some small task like peeling potatoes and listening to Kieran regale them with another tale of the great Sir Simpleton, who Kieran has embraced as his alter-ego.

For his part, Oscar enjoys having Kieran travel with their group, even if it means he does twice the work that he used to. He spends half his time cleaning up Kieran’s messes, dragging Kieran to Rhys after yet another axe mishap, convincing Kieran that there are no bears that he can fight in this part of Crimea, dissuading Kieran from helping him with dinner after the infamous Potato Peel Incident.

Living with Kieran is not particularly convenient, and never, ever quiet, but Oscar finds himself laughing more than he has since he left the Royal Crimean Knights.

Kieran is always especially keyed up after battles, jittery with extra energy and adrenaline with no way to release it. A jittery Kieran does not bode well for anyone, so Oscar suggests that they go for a walk.

Kieran gives him a suspicious look and opens his mouth, probably to accuse Oscar of leading him into a trap, but Oscar cuts him off.

“I hear there are very large bears around this area, and I believe you’ve told me that fighting bears together is an important part of rivalship.”

“Ah yes!” Kieran says, invigorated. “Fighting bears is a key component of a strong rivalry, along with constant sparring, plenty of mead, and not taking a wife.”

Oscar decides to let that last one slide for the time being, too tired from the battle to probe further. “Then it’s settled. Bear fighting it is, and we can work on the other things later.”

There are no bears anywhere close to the area, but the forest is peaceful and spacious enough that Kieran can release his nervous energy by swinging his axe aimlessly without hitting (many) trees.

They come to a small stream and Oscar suggests sitting by it for a while. Kieran dismounts, but not without protest.

“We’ve been walking for half an hour and nary a bear in sight! Oscar, you dastard, did you lead me hear under false pretenses in order to trick me into the unmanly practice of-” Kieran says the words with as much disdain as he can muster. “Heartfelt conversation?”

“You caught me.” Oscar readily admits. “Come on, while we’re here you may as well sit down.”

Kieran looks unsure and Oscar adds, “We can just have a normal conversation, I won’t hold you to the heartfelt part.”

Kieran sits down ungracefully, talking to fill the silence. “I have never understood the appeal of brooks and their senseless babbling. Kieran of the Royal Crimean Knights will not be mocked by a brook!”

Oscar bursts out laughing. “Kieran, you can’t pick a fight with a brook.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Kieran says. “You underestimate me, rival! I could easily fight this brook, and I would defeat it soundly.”

Kieran makes to stand up and Oscar grabs his wrist, gently tugs him back to a sitting position, still chuckling.

“I missed you.” Oscar says.

“What sort of-?” Kieran splutters, flustered. “What drives you to such a fiendish lie? You are-. I don’t-.”

“It’s ok.” Oscar says. “You don’t have to say you missed me too.”

“Missed you? I did not miss you.” Kieran declares. “Perhaps on occasion my axe hand cried out for the blood of my rival, perhaps my honor demanded a rematch with my one true foe, perhaps I developed a thirst that only my rival can quench, but I did not miss you!”

Kieran pauses, then adds, “Well, maybe only a little bit.”

“Whatever you say, Kier-”

Kieran is not quite as dumb as people think that he is, it’s just that his feelings and his actions both work faster than his brain. He can feel something and act upon it for weeks or months (or in the case of Oscar, years) before his brain catches up and he realizes why he is doing what he’s doing.

“Rival! I will stop your mouth!” Kieran cuts Oscar off, which is a fairly common occurrence, and kisses him, which is anything but common.

Kieran kisses like he does everything else: exuberantly, with too much force and not much finesse. Their teeth clack together and Kieran bites his lip far too hard, but Oscar can’t imagine having it any other way.

Kieran pulls back, looking triumphant, and Oscar rubs his lips with the back of his hand, wiping off the excess saliva.

“Well, I guess we can always work on the kissing thing.” Oscar says.

“Are you implying that you can kiss better than I, oh rival of mine?” Kieran retorts, indignant and slightly flushed. “If it is a challenge that I hear, we must kiss again, and again, until you concede that the master of kissing in this rivalry is I, Kieran, Captain of the 5th Platoon of th-”

Takumi seldom managed to sleep through the night. Nightmares of various ideas and monsters would end up waking him, and he would lie in silence making out shapes on the ceiling. Phantom fears would still circle him in the dark even while awake. It usually only took a few minutes of feeling trapped in terror to get Takumi up and out of his room. A change of scenery, fresh air, whatever helped.

Back at Castle Shirasagi he would go and shoot his bow in the archery range, the night stars shimmering above him. His arrows would be loud and sharp in the silent air as everyone around him slept. Now, tucked away in the astral plane with the rest of Corrin’s growing army, Takumi still headed towards that area but the stars above him were different. They blinked and moved and changed and were nothing like the ones from home. The silence surrounding him had also changed because he was no longer alone.

It took him a few nights to realize it was Niles watching him. From his place up in the trees he’d watch Takumi shoot and say nothing, and Takumi would be left wondering where his nerves were coming from. It was pure luck that he had noticed the trees shifting and managed to catch Niles in the act.

“Why are you watching me?” Takumi had demanded.

“Why is a prince out of bed so late?” Niles had responded, and they fell into a quick stalemate.

Takumi wasn’t obligated to spell out his nightmares for him, and that allowed Niles to keep his secrets to himself. He didn't exactly care why Niles was out as late as him, but more so why he would continuously bother him. The stalemate lasted a good two nights before Takumi had cracked. A guy could only handle so much staring and occasional snide comments before losing it.

Tossing down the Fujin Yumi, Takumi had stormed over to him. “Niles! Do you want something from me, is that it?”

“Hmm, a dangerous thing to ask me Prince Takumi.” Niles folded his arms as Takumi glared at him. “I have a good view of the sky from the trees here.”

“Well, you’re not watching the sky now are you? You’re watching me and- it’s weird and I want you to stop!”

Niles smirked. “Oh? Does the Hoshidan Prince have an issue with being watched? And here I thought you so desperately craved attention.”

Takumi could tell by the grin on Niles face that the words were meant to be as sharp and pointed at him. It would be unbefitting of a royal for Takumi to punch him after that, but if his arrows had started to fly towards where Niles was, he wasn’t going to stop himself. Smug bastard. It only took a week more before Niles had squeezed out of him why Takumi was always up at night.

“Nightmares?” Niles had scoffed. “Am I to honestly believe that? What would a royal who has lived a cushy life like you have experienced in order to have such severe nightmares?”

Takumi did punch him then. Fast enough to catch Niles off guard, and strong enough to knock him back a bit. Tears bubbled hot in Takumi’s eyes as anger burned in his chest - gods, his mother, birth mother always said he mirrored her. Emotions ran too high and would always form as tears rather than anything else. They were weapons, she had said but his father always said men didn't cry so he was torn between them. It didn't matter any which way now because they were both dead and every word they've said still haunts him in his dreams as daggers poised to strike.

Takumi wasn’t sure if it was him crying or the punch he gave that made Niles change his tune, but something about him must've triggered something. Before Takumi could stalk off Niles had a grip on his wrist keeping him trapped there. Niles' hand was warm where he touched Takumi’s skin but he still tugged in an attempt to free himself. The contact was becoming too hot, too much sensation for him right now.

“I suppose it's only fair - I watch the stars for the same reason,” Niles had said, voice low and flat. An admission of his own flaws. He tilted his head. “Do you always act like a child when someone calls you out on your status?”

“Am I acting like a child? When you’re the one who insulted me first? If I'm a child then you must be one as well.”

“... Fair enough.”

Niles had let his wrist go and Takumi stalked off, cursing him mentally the whole way. By the next night though, the entire dynamic had shifted. Niles was more… friendly. Instead of just watching Takumi practice he would join in, and eventually Takumi found himself climbing up trees with Niles to stargaze. Niles would still taunt him but it was never as malicious as before, always walking around an audible line. Takumi took it as Niles respecting him rather than pity. He wasn’t sure if Niles could process pity.

After a month of bickering and near-cuddling up high together, Takumi kissed him. It was chaste and he started to regret it immediately, but it was still warm. The hand that ran through his hair as Niles pulled him back closer was even warmer. Takumi didn’t find any love in it, from either side. He had no interest in Niles for the long-term and neither did he. They both could find some solace together in touch, though.

It wasn’t any kind of cure. Takumi still got nightmares as frequently as Niles did and no amount of sex would change that. It was more than that however. The feeling of another person next to you when you woke up was… some kind of safety that was hard to get elsewhere. Takumi would wake up in a panic as usual, and Niles would either already be up or wake up as well from his thrashing. It’d be half-asleep touches and kisses then before Takumi would catch his breath, and they’d fall into a calming silence together.

No, it certainly was no cure, but it was something. They kept their affair quiet from everyone else - as far as they were concerned, outside of the night they had no reason to speak to each other. Niles had his duties as a retainer, and Takumi had his as a prince. Two separate worlds for two separate people. At night that veil would fall away and they’d end up clinging to one another to find that safety, but only when they could hide.

It was harder to think about black claws dragging down his skin or shadows choking him when Takumi could focus on Niles instead, something real and tangible. His teeth weren’t as sharp as the ones gleaming in his dreams, and the marks left by them were visible instead of mental. He gleamed pleasure instead of fear from Niles, and there was no way to focus on what horror awaited him in his sleep when he was moaning into someone’s mouth.

Takumi didn’t know fully how much he helped Niles. For all he knew Niles could still be just as bad as before; he couldn’t really tell. Niles certainly had no complaints though, or if he did, he never voiced them to Takumi and that was good enough for him. It was clear to the both of them that he was using Niles and Niles was using him. No matter how soft Niles felt in the dark or how warm he was when pressed together, Takumi wouldn’t let himself even try to make anything more out of it.