#galaxy polycule

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Youngblood jerks out of his trance to someone shaking his shoulder, and instantly reaches for the knife he keeps next to him.  He hears a yelp before he realizes exactly what’s happened, and opens his eyes to find Noise holding back Youngblood’s knife with the tipped end of their tail.

Youngblood blinks a couple times, and Noise blinks back at him.  The next second, Noise starts scowling.

“Wow, thanks for the warm welcome, Bloody,” they say.

“What— you can’t just— Noise, I’ve been staying in clearings in the forest until recently,” Youngblood says, stuffing the knife back under his pillow and rubbing at his eyes.  “You can’t just do that with no warning.”

“Roman does it all the time,” Noise says, crossing his arms.

“Roman’s gotten nearly stabbed in the face plenty of times too,” Youngblood says, because it’s true and because he knows what Noise is thinking.  He’s about to turn irritably back to Noise to ask what they want so they can both get some rest when Noise speaks again.

“You were calling my name.”

Youngblood stills.

“I didn’t think you had dreams when you did your trance shit.”

“You don’t have to call it that,” Youngblood snaps instead of acknowledging Noise’s other statement.  “You’ve known me long enough to know how it works.”

“Well, apparently not, if you get dreams now.”

“They’re not dreams,” Youngblood groans, collapsing back on the bed and closing his eyes.  “It’s not— it’s not that simple.”

Noise is quiet for a minute, meaning the only sound comes from Roman, sleeping far too deeply to be woken up by their conversation, mumbling something about wanting bread and crickets for dinner.

“You could just tell me how it works, then,” Noise says eventually.  Youngblood doesn’t open his eyes, but he feels it when Noise sits down on the bed next to him.

The problem is, Youngblood doesn’t want to do that.  Because explaining how it works would mean explaining to Noise what he’s been thinking about, why he hasn’t been well rested, why he doesn’t want to talk about it.  It would mean telling Noise about why he’d been calling their name, what he’d been thinking about.

Noise either picks up on all of this in his face, or they just take his silence as a refusal, because they sigh.

“When did you stop trusting me?” he asks quietly, less to Youngblood than to the empty stretch of distance between them.

Youngblood opens his eyes now.  “I didn’t,” he says.

“You don’t tell me things anymore.”

“It’s not exactly easy anymore,” Youngblood murmurs, which Noise apparently takes as a confirmation, because they throw their hands into the air.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says.  “Apparently I’ve forgotten what the word trust means!”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Youngblood says, pushing himself up on his elbows.  “It’s— it doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” Noise says, looking down at him with a stubborn glare on their face.  “Explain to me why it doesn’t matter, Youngblood.  Does it not matter because I’m not supposed to be upset that you’re hurting?  Does it not matter because I’m not supposed to care that you left and nearly irreparably damaged our relationship, and it feels like we can’t trust each other now?  Or am I supposed to accept that things are bad between us and not try to change it?  Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying it doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Youngblood snaps, tightening his hands into fists.  “I— you’re not—”

“You calling out my name in a trance and sounding scared while you do it doesn’t have anything to do with me?”

“No,” Youngblood lies firmly, and probably not very convincingly, glaring down at his clenched hands.  “It doesn’t.”

Noise, predictably, doesn’t move.  Unfortunately Youngblood is just as stubborn as he is, and he’s had ages to adapt to the endless silence that comes with being alone.  It doesn’t make a difference now that he’s alone with other people.  He’s just as capable of enjoying long stretches of silence.  Hell, he likes them.

…Noise’s eye on him, however, is another thing.

Eventually, Noise leans forward and gently lifts Youngblood’s chin with their fingertips.  Youngblood doesn’t bother looking away.

“If it’s not a dream, then what is it?” Noise asks softly.

Youngblood looks down again but doesn’t move his head.

“Is it a nightmare?” Noise asks.

Youngblood swallows.  “In a sense.”

“Meaning?”

“A memory.”

“Of me?” Noise asks.

Youngblood shakes his head, dislodging Noise’s hand.  Noise moves forward, so he can sit fully on the bed now, across from Youngblood.  He reaches out and takes Youngblood’s hand, using his burned one, because he’s an idiot who never learns.

“You can tell me,” Noise says.

Youngblood shakes his head, because he can’t, he can’t even begin to count the number of times that was drilled into his head.  That’s the rule, and the consequences of breaking it are covering the space where Noise’s right eye used to be.  No matter what, he doesn’t tell Noise.  That’s the deal.

“You can,” Noise says.

Youngblood shakes his head again.

Noise is quiet for another moment.  “Okay,” they say finally.  “Then… can you tell me why you can’t tell me?”

Youngblood still doesn’t know if he can.  Caring about people gets you killed.  It’s already stupid that he’s traveling like this with Roman and Noise.  Noise, who wasn’t supposed to be hurt by him anymore.  Roman, who Youngblood still feels like he’s dragged into his problems, despite how many times Roman’s told him he’s thrilled to be here.

Noise cuts his thoughts off by gently squeezing Youngblood’s hand.  Youngblood’s gaze zeroes in on Noise’s arm, and he reaches forward and pulls their sleeve up.  He lays his hand on the burn scarring on their arm, the closest he can get to saying an actual answer.

Noise brings his free hand over and covers Youngblood’s.  “I’m okay, stupid,” he says gently.

Youngblood shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, who’s fault is that?”

Youngblood looks up at them.

“Oh, stop it.  You know that’s not what I meant.  Or I mean, I guess it is what I meant, but it doesn’t mean what you’re thinking.  So tell that stupid brain of yours to shut up.”

“I don’t think I can,” Youngblood whispers.  “I’m not— I’m not supposed to tell you.”

Noise doesn’t say anything, but Youngblood is pretty sure they get it.  Because no matter how little he wanted this for Noise, they have both been through a lot of the same things.

“If you had told me,” Noise murmurs, running his thumb across Youngblood’s knuckles.  “I probably wouldn’t have gone to ask him to stop, Youngblood.”

Youngblood just closes his eyes and doesn’t say anything.  He hones in on the feeling of Noise’s thumb running across his knuckles, tries to think about that instead of everything.

Eventually, though, Noise stops, and Youngblood looks up at them again.  They’re still staring down at Youngblood’s hand, but now they’ve got a far away look in their eyes, and Youngblood might have said they were in a trance if they did that kind of thing.

“Noise,” Youngblood says, shifting his grip so he can draw circles on the inside of Noise’s palm.  “Hey, look at me.”

Noise does, and he doesn’t look quite as far away as Youngblood was fearing, but he does look like he’s reevaluating choices.

“I probably wouldn’t have,” Noise whispers.  “I probably wouldn’t have gone to ask him to stop if I’d known why you were hurting, Youngblood.”

“Yeah, well,” Youngblood says hesitantly.  “Then we might still be there.”  He realizes the implications of that a second later and reaches up to cup the side of Noise’s face.  “But that doesn’t mean—”

“I know it doesn’t,” Noise murmurs, leaning their eyepatch into Youngblood’s hand and closing their good eye.  “Don’t think you can convince me you’re the type to think everything happens for a reason, Youngblood.  You can’t have changed that much.”

Youngblood leans forward and presses his nose against Noise’s, which they’d both learned a long time ago was more comfortable than trying to navigate around Noise’s horns.

“Youngblood,” Noise says weakly.  “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Youngblood says.

“No, just— just tell me.”

“Nothing,” Youngblood repeats.  “Unless you want to drag all the battle of bard stuff out again.”

Noise laughs a little, but it doesn’t sound genuine.  He opens his eye and meets Youngblood’s gaze, and there’s almost more in his eye than Youngblood can read.  “When did you stop trusting me?” he asks again.

Youngblood pulls his hand back, but doesn’t move from the way their faces are pressed together.  “I… don’t know,” he admits, looking down.  He tries, for a moment, to think back on every instance that comes to mind that makes him feel like he can’t tell Noise anything.  But there’s too many to count, and it’s late and Youngblood doesn’t want to disappear into his head until Noise has to pull him back out.

“I don’t think it was a conscious choice,” he says eventually.  “And it’s not… because you’re untrustworthy.”

Noise looks at him.  “That makes zero sense, you know that?”

“I know,” Youngblood murmurs.

“I’m gonna tell you something,” Noise says.

“You don’t have to do that,” Youngblood says.  “We don’t… you can wait until this thing can be equal again.”

“Well I kind of care about this thing,” Noise says.  “So I’m gonna tell you something.”

Youngblood closes his eyes.  “Okay.”

Noise leans forward and brushes their lips against Youngblood’s, and Youngblood opens his eyes again in surprise, but leans into the kiss after a second.

It’s not nearly long enough, however, before Noise pulls away.  “I love you,” he says.

Youngblood takes a breath, and leans back into Noise without kissing them again.  “…Mm-hmm,” he says, which is the best he can manage.

Noise laughs a little, and this time it sounds genuine.  “Come here,” he says, and he pulls Youngblood down onto the bed next to him, then wraps his tail around their intertwined hands.

And Youngblood doesn’t tend to do trances lying down.  Far easier to get ambushed that way.  But Noise is here, and Noise feels safe.  So he closes his eyes, and is close to drifting again when Roman mumbles from the other bed something about too many crickets, and they’re all coming for the bread.

Noise laughs, and looks over at Roman over Youngblood’s head.  “He’s such an idiot,” they say fondly.  “I love him so much.”

Youngblood squeezes Noise’s hand as hard as he can to try and get the rest of his message across when he says, “Me too.”