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'Another squirrel,' Bennett thinks, blearily, at the first sign of movement behind him. ‘Warmer than my blanket though…’
His eyes are closed, still trying to remember the dream he'd been having. Something surprisingly pleasant, and very unlike the nightmares he normally has.
'It's not attacking me this time. That's nice.'
Then…
It's the realization that there's nothing attacking that finally startles Bennett awake, possibly faster than a rabid squirrel would have. Also… the thing nuzzling his shoulder is much larger than a squirrel?
"Razor?" Bennett’s voice is thick, husky with sleep, but there's only one logical explanation – it's his new pal, Razor, who's behind all of this. "That you, buddy?"
"Mm."
Razor isn't the best with words, but that grunt, that definitely sounds like his voice. Just to be safe, Bennett mentally sends a quick prayer to the Anemo Archon that this isn't some highly intelligent monster imitating Razor. Rodent attacks are far more common, but it wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened to Bennett either.
"What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"
"...Can't sleep." Razor's pauses are caused by either tiredness or awkwardness, but it's hard to tell.
"Nightmare?" Bennett asks again.
Razor thinks for a moment. It's hard to tell whether he's struggling to recognize the word or just thinking, because Razor is always so quiet either way. Not even his breaths make noise, though Bennett can feel the rise and fall of the other boy's chest against his back. His shoulders.
It's slow and calm, nothing like the sharp intakes Bennett makes when he has a bad dream. But it is Razor. Maybe the wolves taught him how to stay calm, even while asleep.
"No," Razor replies finally. "Just… lonely?"
"I'm right here," Bennett reassures him, before another thought comes to mind. "Or do you miss your wolf family?"
Immediately, Bennett's mind goes to a dark place:
Of course he's not good enough. Razor would obviously prefer being with his wolf family, his real Lupical, than pulling Bennett’s lucky shorts out of the fire… for a third time.
'Maybe,' he thinks, if only as a means to distract himself, 'I should get a new pair of shorts.'
Their luck has probably run out. These are the same shorts he was wearing when he met the Traveler, when they opened that treasure chest to find it full of Mora and artifacts instead of cabbages. They’ve been patched so many times – mostly by Barbara, who needs something to keep her mind occupied while Bennett rests in the cathedral, recovering from his latest injuries – that maybe they’re not even the same pair of shorts anymore.
And that’s when the intrusive thoughts come back. Maybe Razor regrets adventuring with him, or maybe he hadn’t meant to get this close to Bennett. Maybe, maybe, maybe –
“Wolf family,” Razor replies firmly. It sounds like he’s in agreement with Bennett’s mind, until he continues, “I do miss them, but… Also enjoy Bennett. Traveling together.”
Warmth floods Bennett’s face, his heart. He kicks his legs a little and smiles, unable to sit still with how happy the words make him. Not everyone feels this way about him. Even the ones who do sometimes, usually, eventually, change their minds.
But there’s a part of him that he doesn’t try to hide that wants Razor to be different.
“I enjoy traveling with you too, Razor,” he replies.
He means it, every word.
“But…” Now that he’s been reassured, Bennett waits patiently while Razor searches for the right words. No point in worrying excessively, as he always tells himself. Sighing, Razor finally continues, “Wolf family sleeps differently. More close. Warmer.”
“Like what you’re doing right now?” Bennett asks.
Not quite, he quickly finds out, as Razor shuffles closer. “Like this,” the wolf boy replies, and oh, Bennett can feel Razor’s chest against his back now.
It’s warm.
Razor is warm and gentle and all of the other things he doesn’t look at first glance, but that Bennett is slowly starting to recognize him as. His breaths, which Bennnett didn’t have the time to appreciate upon first waking up, match the rest of him. Bennett sighs, deeply, which causes his back to press against Razor’s chest. It creates a fuzzy, tingly, enjoyable point of contact, one that Bennett immediately misses, even though Razor is still touching him, just not as closely as before.
When Razor throws his arm across the other boy’s shoulder, it creates a solid and comfortable weight. One of his legs is resting, in a similar fashion, atop Bennett’s calf.
Suddenly, Bennett wishes there was more he could do to touch Razor in return. His human sensibilities are advising against it – he’s pretty sure even Fischl would think this much unprompted physical contact was weird – but it’s been so long, so long since the last time Bennett has been held like this. Or has he never been held like this?
This is wonderful.
This is –
“How Lupical sleeps,” Razor mutters, his voice heavier than it was a few minutes ago. “Good for staying warm, and safe.”
Cautiously, Bennett slides his fingers between Razor’s. The wolf boy doesn’t appear to mind.
“Why don’t we share my blanket?” Bennett asks. He doesn’t think about these words first – they slip out on their own. Now it’s too late to retract them, so he continues, “It would be warmer. Not much, uh, because it’s not much of a blanket!”
There’s a bit of laughter, a bit of shuffling around, and a moment later, they’re both underneath Bennett’s well-worn blanket. It’s not the same as wolf fur, Bennett is certain, but it’s decent enough.
“This is good,” Razor sighs against his neck, settling back into the position he’d been in earlier. This time, Razor is the one who slips his hand beneath Bennett’s. He’s quiet again for a moment, and then decides, more loudly than necessary, “Can’t do this with other Lupical. Feels nice.”
“You mean, holding hands?”
‘Other Lupical’ could mean a lot of things. Razor’s wolf family, for example, or even his other human friends. If he meant the wolves, it was pretty obvious that holding a wolf paw didn’t feel quite the same as holding onto a human hand.
But if he was including his other human friends as ‘Lupical’, didn’t that make what he was doing with Bennett somewhat special?
‘I don’t want to think about this tonight,’ Bennett realized. ‘I want to enjoy this moment, for however long it lasts.’
Bennett closed his eyes again. Felt the gentle rise and fall of Razor’s chest against his back. Soaked up every sensation like a sponge, knowing that he’d be recalling them to soothe himself to sleep on lonelier nights while he was missing this warmth.
“You call this ‘holding hands’? Razor questions back, wiggling their hands a bit for emphasis. “Yes, it is nice.”
Bennett figures it’s his turn to ask a question now, and he does, “Is this how your wolf family sleeps every night?”
“Always!”
Within moments, Bennett is asleep. He’s so relaxed, so touch-starved, that he wouldn’t have been able to stay awake even if he’d wanted to.
The word ‘always’ echoes longingly in his dreams.