Work Text:
Wise throws open the staffroom door with a bang.
“Belle,” he said. Calmly.
Wise’s sister– his wonderful, splendid, angelic sister, he reminds himself– turns around with a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Oh, hey Wise!” She chirped. “What’s up?”
Wise twitched. He loves his sister. He loves her. He really does.
“Why,” he strained. “Is he. Outside?”
Belle taps her chin. “He?” she says. “Who’s he? I don’t know any ‘he’s’. Are you sure you've got the right person?”
“You know exactly what I mean."
"Who?"
”Lighter.”
“Hm. That’s a weird name. Are you sure you’re not just making it up?”
“Belle.”
“Really!" She raises her hands in what was supposed to be a placating gesture. "We know a bunch of people in New Eridu. Maybe it’s a codename. Some sort of alias on InterKnot. How would I know?”
“I know you called him.”
“Psh!” Belle bats the air. “Nooo! Why would I call your hunky Outer Ring boyfriend to Random Play?” She suddenly gasped. “Were you expecting him at all?”
Wise flushed. “I- He’s not... I’m not doing this today, Belle. Just tell me you called him over and why.”
“You know what? You’re right.” Before he could blink, she was on her feet, pushing him out of the room and towards the front door. "You’re not doing anything today until you’ve gotten a manicure, the newest Astra album, and a day of well deserved rest.”
“Wuh- hey-" For a girl her size, Belle was surprisingly strong when she wanted to be. "I thought you were going to get the Astra album–”
“Nope!" She shoved him to emphasize. "Changed my mind. Your boyfriend can help you. Pretty sure anyone’ll move out of the way for him. Honestly, he would probably kill a man if you asked him to. I mean, that is his job right?”
"He's in a biker gang, not an assassin's league," Wise sighs. He didn't want to admit that she was probably right. “Are we still talking about albums?”
“Just remember to buy it and I won’t bug you the rest of the day.” She gives him one last push and he stumbles towards the door. “Deal?”
Wise rolls his eyes. “Like I have a choice.”
“Exactly! Stay safe, dear brother. Curfew's at 9 o'clock, and remember, protection is key–”
“Belle!”
Her sister ducks into the staffroom, her cackles audible even through the steel door.
Wise stands here, red-faced and fuming. That little– How did she even convince him to do this? When did she do this? Why did she have to pick today of all days to be difficult?
He wasn't having it. He walks back to the staffroom door and raps his knuckles on it.
“Belle."
Loud pop music was already blasting from the other side. She'd foreseen this coming. Wise grit his teeth.
“Belle," he says, voice nearing a shout. "We need to talk.”
There was a moment of silence, save for Astra’s dulcet tones over their Bluetooth speaker. Then, the door cracked open. Belle leans against the doorframe, eyebrows knit. Wise tries not to cringe.
Uh oh, he thinks.
She's worried.
A worried Belle was not someone to be crossed.
“Wise,” she said, as if speaking to a petulant child. “You’ve been working for 48 hours straight.”
He fidgets.
“With a fever.”
“It’s only been thirty…” he says weakly.
“You could have told me,” she insisted. “I can handle the commissions. The video store can take a day off. Let me handle things.”
“You’ve been working too hard, Belle. You deserve a break—”
“So do you!” she snaps. He flinches. “Wise… you’re not the only one in this house, alright? You don’t have to do all of the work like you're the only thing keeping us afloat. Because you're not. I'm part of this too.”
“But I said I’m fine, and you've been working so hard lately–”
“Look who’s talking!” she snapped. “Wise, your fever hasn’t gone down in days and you’re still up here, lecturing me– your incredibly able-bodied and athletic sister–”
“Barely.”
“–about ‘taking breaks’ and ‘remembering to take care of yourself.’ Honestly! Pot calling kettle black, no?”
Wise opens his mouth to argue, but a wave of drowsiness betrays him. He yawns.
The moment it leaves his mouth, he regrets it.
“Ah-hah!" she declared, shoving an accusing finger in his face. "I knew it. That's it, I’m taking over the video store and the commissions. You are going to have a wonderful time with a friend who cares about you and makes you feel good. I don’t want to see a hair on your head in the store until 4 pm sharp. Doctor’s orders. Got that, Wiser?”
“Shouldn’t I be staying inside and getting some bed rest?” he tries. But he knows the argument has already been settled.
“Nope! I’m diagnosing you with workaholism. The only cure is to go out and have fun with friends. Like a normal person.”
“But I’m Phaethon."
Belle rolls her eyes. “So am I. And I say Phaethon gets to be normal today.”
After a moment, her expression softens. She pulls something out from her pocket and beckons him over.
Wise hesitates. The last time he fell for this he got smacked with a sticky note that had “got me acting unWise” written on it. Belle teased him about it for a week.
But this seemed important. At least, he hoped it was.
As soon as he reaches her, he feels something cool against his forehead. He blinks, touching it. It’s a fever patch. Wise is briefly stunned into silence. Belle smiles.
“If you start feeling worse, tell him to bring you right back,” says Belle. “These are your marching orders, soldier. You’re getting taken care of whether you like it or not.”
Emotion floods him, so powerful it threatens to capsize him. He hugs her. Belle jumps a little, taken aback, but quickly sinks into the embrace.
“Thanks, sis,” he mumbles. Belle giggles and rubs circles into his back. It feels nice.
“Anytime, bro.” She pulls away and punches him in the shoulder. “Now go get your man! I want all of the saucy details afterwards.”
“Wait, wait, wait—“ he protests. Everything was moving too fast. “Shouldn’t I at least take my temperature or something before I—?”
Belle takes the opportunity to shove him out. “Nope! You’ll be fine. You’re the picture of health, bro! Have fun on your date.”
“I told you, it’s not a—“
The door slams in his face. Wise sighs. “...And she’s gone.”
His temple throbs and he has to put his hand out to balance himself. Wow. Okay. Maybe he has been working too hard.
But this was fine. Wasn't it? He had the time. They needed the money. They both know money's been tight ever since Fairy dropped into their life. While they're not in crisis mode, it would still be nice to have something other than takeout for a few weeks. Commissions dried up a week ago and none of their usual clients have come by knocking.
But most importantly, the anniversary of the Old Capital destruction was this week. He wanted- no, needed- to keep things lighthearted. For both their sakes.
So he improvised. Any proxy request he could get his hands on was done within the hour. Fairy was a lifesaver, and quite literally the only reason he could have pulled this off. As soon as one was completed, he was onto the next. Rinse, repeat, continue. Additionally, Belle’s birthday was coming up soon. He wanted to make sure he could get her something nice. He considered getting Astranaut merch, but anything Astra-related always became shared property after a while. No, he wanted to do something special. To celebrate the revival of their InterKnot account. And, honestly, to treat her after everything that’s happened the past few months. Between getting kidnapped and managing the store, his sister deserved something nice. They both did, he supposed. But it was always easier to start with Belle. He would take care of himself. He would. He will.
He takes a deep breath. He's fine. He could get back to work as soon as he got back.
Wise opens the door. Lighter, leaned up on the display window, looks up from his phone.
“Oh,” he says. He stares at his forehead for a moment before wrenching his gaze down and into his eyes. “You’re back.”
“Hi,” says Wise. “Again,” he adds. Just to be clear.
“I, uh… thought your sister would be letting me in.”
“Oh, no. No, no. Just me.” Wise closes the door. “Where to?”
“Uh– wait. Has the thing been…?” He waves a hand in front of his eyes.
“Oh. The connection? Don’t worry. Belle is handling Eous right now. You just caught me in the middle of a commission.”
“Right… Um. Should you be up and about right now? Why not take the day off?”
“What did Belle tell you?” Wise sighs. He's been sighing far too much lately. Maybe Belle was right. “I’ve just been… hard at work lately. Needed a break.”
To his surprise, Lighter chuckles.
“I guess I’m the break?” he teased.
A smile pulled at his lips. “Depends. Are you willing to behave?”
“Ouch.” He put a hand on his chest in mock offense. “That hurts, manager. I’m a biker, not a criminal.”
Wise smiles. “If you’re a criminal, I’m Phaethon.”
He snorted. “Of course. Let's not talk about things we’re clearly not.”
“Agreed. Anyway, where to?”
Lighter stops. He can see him blinking rapidly through the tint of his sunglasses.
“Where to… what?”
“You know. To hang out? You can pick the spot. Belle told me to run some errands but I can do them later. Unless you want to go to Lumina. Then I’m afraid I have to drag you along.”
Lighter stares at him like he didn’t hear a word he said.
“You’re going out?”
Wise blinks. “...Yeah. Is something wrong?”
“No,” says Lighter. He averts his eyes. Just a fraction too quickly. “No, not at all. I just… ah.”
Wise catches a glimpse of something white behind Lighter’s back. The man tried to shift it out of view but he’s already made out the shape of it.
“Are those groceries?" he asks incredulously.
Lighter winces, as if he were caught stealing. “No, no. I did those last week."
"Did you want to give it to Belle? She's still here, you know. If you want I can call her back-”
"No, it's fine. It's... for something else."
A question forms in the back of his mind but he pushes aside for the time being. “Is it for the Sons of Calydon?”
“I went on an errand run yesterday. So, no. Everyone’s fine.”
Wise frowns. “Then what’s it for?”
The man coughs into his fist. “You wanted to go to Lumina, yeah? I know somewhere where you can get the best tech parts for cheap.”
Despite clearly avoiding the question, he had to admit that piqued his interest. “Really? Where?”
“It’s… not exactly above ground.” Lighter glances around. "If you catch my drift.”
Ah. Makes sense. No way a deal that good would be legal.
“I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence.”
“Me?" Lighter snorted. It was a little higher than he would expect and disarmingly cute. "Oh, no. I’m on the straight and narrow now. You know me. From one upstanding citizen to another.”
Wise breaks out into a laugh. A surprised but pleased smile spreads over Lighter’s face. The afternoon light catches the glint of his sunglasses and bounces off his eyes, shining a deep olive green.
He stares for a second too long. Wise is the first to look away. “Uh, cool. It's a date. Did you want to take the car or…?”
When he heard no response, Wise looks back.
"Lighter? Is something wrong?"
The man blinks, straightening up. "Oh, no. And no need. We can take my bike. There’s no way we’re going to beat the traffic in that thing."
Lighter never used to back down from a fight.
He’s changed. He knows he has. For the better, he assures himself. He can tell when he’s outnumbered. He knows when he should curl his fists and when to walk away. That’s more than he could say about himself even a year ago.
But old habits die hard. That is a sentiment that keeps popping up again, and again, and again.
He's starting to think they can't be killed.
The mask slips from time to time. The old mercenary takes over and next thing he knows, he's letting his fists do the talking. When an asshole was hitting on a Son of Calydon in some backwater dive. When he gets pulled over by PubSec and he has to remind himself that prison was not a place from which he could protect people. Whenever he saw a cat and it hissed away from his touch. In all those moments, its difficult to swallow down the fight welling up in his throat. He fails to swallow it. Something bad happens.
That's why he doesn't fight anymore. Start them, at least.
Most of the time, he’s able to suck it up and keep himself in check. Failing to back down when he should have is what ruined him. He needs to remember that. It was a necessity. More important than the need to sleep or eat.
But here he was. On an impromptu date with the legendary Phaethon.
Try as he might, his nerves refused to rest.
It wasn’t even a date. It wasn’t a date. There was nothing to suggest it was a date.
But he’s alone, shopping— in the most popular mall in New Eridu, he might add— with the guy he’s had a crush on for a month, and… well. If the only thing stopping him from calling it a date was the word, Wise cleared that up immediately.
He’s on a date with Phaethon and has no idea what to do about it.
Wise probably hasn’t realized. Of course he hasn’t. There wasn’t any evidence to suggest he meant it that way at all. Also, he was sick. Who’s to say it wasn’t just the fever talking? The Hello Kitty fever patch was proof of that.
He should have backed down. He should have stopped before he was in too deep.
Getting a text from the other Proxy was normal enough. When Belle said she had a commission for him, he didn't think twice. However, upon getting the details, he began having his suspicions.
Are you sure you’re not just… trying to set me up or something?
LMFAOOOOO
You wish.
Honestly if that happens I’ve got no complaints.
If Wise was going to date anyone it was going to be you.
No I mean… why not ask someone else to do it? Why not do it yourself?
After a moment, Lighter added:
Sorry if that’s not possible. I was just wondering.
It took a couple minutes for her to respond.
I’m worried about him.
He’s had fevers before and usually a day or two in bed fixes him up.
But lately he hasn’t been doing that.
If anything it’s like he’s working more than before.
I’m not letting my brother kill himself just because he refuses to take a sick leave.
Then why me?
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say. That he was special? That he meant a lot to him? That he had a talent for taking care of the sick?
Bc he likes you.
If I can’t get him to take a breather, might as well try you.
The words hit him with the same force as a right hook. The air was forced from his lungs and when he looked up, the world was spinning. No. Surely she was just... being cordial. Right? That's how New Eridu folk are. Complimentary to a fault. Hiding their meaning behind some pretty words and a flashy smile.
But... this was Belle he was talking about.
He had a hard time imagining her saying anything but the truth.
The offer spiraled in his head for the rest of the day. No. There's no possible way he was going to drive out one and a half hours just to see the guy he's had a crush on for a month. He has so much work to do. He has missions from Big Daddy to track a lost crate of supplies in a Hollow. He needs to bust down that drug ring and get Lucy to handle the illegal profits. He needs to be here. The Outer Ring needs him. He can’t possibly give up his duties for his own selfish reasons.
“Go for it, man.” Caesar takes a large bite out of an apple, smacking her lips. “We’ve got it locked down over here. Take some time for yourself. Y’need it.”
“But Boss—“
“I’m not asking, Lighter,” she interrupts. Her gaze is steel.
The Boss's decision was final. There was no room to argue.
He texts Belle the following hour.
I’ll bring some medicine. What kind of snacks does he like?
She responds in a blink of an eye.
Ur such good boyfriend material.
Now here he was. Walking down Lumina Square with the proxy. Just his luck.
A weight stumbles into his side and he stops.
“Manager…?” he says.
As soon as he said it he knew something was wrong. The manager’s eyes were glassy. Unfocused. He could feel the heat of his forehead through his jacket.
He grabs his shoulders and drops to one knee.
“Manager,” he said, shaking him a little. “Hey, manager, wake up.”
Wise just blinks at him. Slow and confused. His face is unnaturally flushed.
This isn't good.
“I’m awake already?” he slurred.
Shit.
Lighter swore. “This was a mistake. I should've never brought you out here. Let's go. We can still make it back before the fever gets worse.”
“Hey, wait. I’m– I’m fine. I just need to get Belle something and I’ll be right home–”
“No. Let me do it. You can barely walk without passing out.”
Wise frowns. Well, pouted, more accurately. It was kind of cute. “I can take care of myself, Lighter.”
Lighter shook his head. “Are you coming back to the bike or am I taking you by force?”
“I told you, I’m fi– wh- h-hey– HEY!”
In one fell swoop, Wise was over his shoulder. He hung like a sack of potatoes.
“Lighter!” the proxy squawked. “What are you doing?!”
Hm. He’s light. Little heavier than a box of grapes. Does he eat enough? Does proxy work involve a lot of exercise? No, probably not. Otherwise they’d just be going into the Hollows themselves. Well, Ether aptitude would also factor in there…
“Are you even listening?!”
He didn't let go of him- lest he try to escape- until they reached his bike. The moment Lighter put him down, however, he got a scolding.
“I said I needed to run some errands,” Wise retorts. "If I don't do them now, I'll have to come back later."
“Your fever patch has fallen off,” Lighter remarks.
Instinctively, Wise touches the patch on his forehead. Realization creeps onto his face.
“You’re going back,” he says. “End of story.”
“But–”
“No buts. Your sister will worry.”
“I need to get something for her–”
“Let me get it.”
They were only a few inches away now. The proximity makes him shift uncomfortably. Before, he had always been a couple steps behind him, watching the rear, scouting the area, ensuring there were no threats present. But none of that was there now. There was just Wise.
It's just Wise.
Before he could stop himself, Lighter moves to grasp him by the arms. Wise startles. He doesn't try to break free.
“Please.” Lighter squeezed slightly. The proxy's done so much for him in the past month. He could at least give him this. "Let's go back, manager."
He searches his eyes for a moment. The deep sapphire of his irises were mesmerizing. The ocean couldn’t hope to compete. It had a depth he could get lost in. Secrets he could never even hope to see.
Wise stares at him for a while. Then sighs. The tension goes out of his body like a light and he nearly falls forward in exhaustion. Lighter panics and grabs him, but he needn’t have bothered. Wise had fallen directly into his chest.
“Maybe we should have taken the car,” he mumbled, words slightly muffled by the fabric of his clothes. Lighter’s glad he doesn’t get to see how red his face was right now. It's like he took his own gauntlet to the face.
Hesitantly, he places his hands on Wise's back. He’s warm. Unnaturally so.
As soon as he touches him, Wise relaxes. His heart aches. He could feel the proxy's heartbeat fluttering under his fingertips. Like a little flame. A small moth.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers. He draws Wise in just a bit closer.
I’ll protect you.
Wise doesn’t remember much of the ride back. He remembers being warm, drowsy, and vaguely motion sick. Then there was the ring and a conversation between him and Belle (or was it Belle and Lighter?). Then he was asleep.
When he wakes up, an unfamiliar jacket is draped over him. The room is cold, his face is hot, and everything feels vaguely covered in sweat.
In short, he feels gross.
He turns his head, trying to see if a bottle of water was within grabbing distance.
Instead, he sees Lighter. Shirtless. Sitting on the edge of his bed.
He bolts up. “What the fuck?”
Lighter startles. The first thing Wise notices is the scars. There were so many. Some of them looked like they went deep.
The second thing he notices is his eyes.
He took the shades off.
“Oh!” he says, relaxing. There’s a note of relief in his voice. “Jeez, manager. You were out like a light. Thought you’d never come to.”
“What are you doing here?”
Lighter frowns. “Uh… I brought you here?”
“No I mean… in my room.”
“I carried you? You’re not awfully heavy. Er. No offence.”
He was just going to have to bite the bullet, wasn’t he?
“Are you feeling alright?” A look of concern takes over his face. He reaches out a hand and feels his forehead. “Do you not remember what happened?”
“Where’s your shirt?”
The man froze. He ripped his hand away as if he had burned it.
“Oh— no," he stutters. Wise has never seen him this fidgety before. "Don’t worry. I didn’t— I mean— it’s not what you think. It was just hot out there and you got snot all over my shirt, so I thought… well why not cool off? Uh, I wasn’t expecting you to wake up so soon though. If you want, I can put my jacket back on—“
“NO!”
Lighter blinked. His face burned with a blush that had nothing to do with the fever. “I-I mean don’t worry about it. The lights are off, I can’t even see much anyway.”
Lighter shifts slightly. “You sure? I mean it’s no big deal, I just gotta make an extra trip to the laundromat—“
Wise grabs his wrist. Whatever he was going to say next died in his mouth. Lighter looks at him. He imperceptibly swallows.
“…Manager?”
He blames the fever. Under normal circumstances, Wise would have handled it better. He would have said a dozen things that would’ve been more sensible. Logical. Appropriate. Get out of my room. Where’s Belle? Why did you take your shades off? Why are you sitting on my bed? Why haven't you gone home?
Instead, what comes out is:
“How’d you get them?”
Lighter blinks. That clearly wasn't the question he was expecting.
“My… clothes?”
“The scars.”
A deafening silence fills the room. There was no chatter, no city bustle, no rustle of fabric. Just the electric hum of the A/C and a quiet that could kill.
Lighter said nothing. He said nothing for so long, even Wise’s fever-addled brain started to catch on.
Oh no, he panicked. I pissed him off. Oh fuck, why did I ask that? That was probably a sore topic for him. That was definitely something he didn’t want to talk about.
“I’m sorry,” Wise blurts. “I don’t know why I said that. I-I think the fever’s getting worse. Thank you so much for everything, Lighter. I can take it from here. If there's anything I can do for you, I—“
A bag lands in his lap. The apology dies in his mouth, and he instinctively looks down.
The 141 logo stares back at him.
He looks back up at Lighter. No doubt the question was already written on his face.
Why?
“I got it for you,” Lighter says quietly. He can barely hear him. It was almost as if he were talking to himself. Or didn’t want him to hear it. “You work too hard, manager. Let others take the burden when you can’t. You’ll burn out.”
Wise is stunned. He looks back down at the bag, pulling out the first object he finds. It was a pack of Tylenol. He reaches in again. There’s a bar of matcha flavoured pocky.
“I lied to you, manager,” says Lighter. Wise looks up, the gears in his head rusted and slow to turn. “I didn’t come here because I wanted to see you. Well— okay, I did. But that wasn’t the real reason.”
“Belle told you,” said Wise. Lighter turned to him with wide eyes.
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew. I figured it out the moment you knocked.”
Something like a laugh escapes him. Lighter turns away, putting his head in his hand. He’s close enough for Wise to feel the reverberations through the sheets.
He manages to catch a glimpse of a smile. And a hint of a neat blush.
“Nothing gets past you…” Lighter mutters.
“Sorry? What was that?”
The man looks back at him, unperturbed. “What do you think happened, manager?”
Wise blinked. His head was starting to swim. He couldn’t keep up with the flow of the conversation. Was this a dream? No, it was too insane to be a dream. He normally dreams about doing taxes and his bills being too high. Not… this. Was this his fever talking?
“What do you mean?” asks Wise.
“About the scars. What do you think happened?”
He didn’t expect that. It takes a moment before he comes up with the most delicate way to say it.
“…You were in a fight?”
Lighter laughs again. “You could say that. But what’s more important is the why bit.”
“Which is…?”
He’s averting his gaze. There’s a loose bit of thread at the edge of his blanket and Lighter starts fiddling with it.
“I made a mistake,” he said quietly. The way the words hung in the air was akin to a confession. “Didn’t let go of my pride when I should’ve and lost something I’ll never get back. I don’t know if it’s the same for you, but…”
Dark green eyes met his.
“I don’t want you making the same mistake.”
His hand never left his wrist. The skin was rough there. As if torn off and sewn together again.
“What did you lose?” he whispered.
His eyes flicked downward, suddenly flitting. “…Someone very important to me.”
Wise was silent.
“A friend,” Lighter continued. “Family.”
There was a very long pause before his next word.
"...Everything."
He didn’t know whether to blame this on the fever or be grateful for giving him the courage to do what he never would’ve. Wise turns his face back to him, forcing him to look. To meet his eyes and see. His heart was pounding. It might’ve been the sickness. He was pretty sure it wasn’t. Lighter’s gaze found him. His eyes weren’t wavering anymore, but there was a certain vulnerability in them. A sort of fear. A hint of hope.
Wise closes the gap between them. His skin feels warm, even compared to the fever. The man’s eyes glance down, fractionally, in the direction of his lips.
He pulls his face close and touches his forehead to his.
“I'm still here.”
Before Lighter could respond, Wise presses his lips to his.
His eyes flutter closed of their own accord. His breath smells overwhelmingly of mint with a hint of gasoline and Nitro-Fuel. He laughs and pulls away. Did he chew gum on the way here?
Before he could pull back too far, however, Lighter pulls him back in by the jacket. Their lips crash against each other and he catches a bit of teeth. Wise snorts.
“Hey-hey, relax,” he says. He could feel every shift, every breath under his fingers. It was intoxicating.
“Kind of difficult, if I’m being honest,” breathed Lighter. He cups the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss. Each one followed by a hum of contentment, with the occasional laugh. Wise isn't sure when he ends up on his back but he doesn’t think to complain. The bed groans under the weight, Lighter falling on top of him. His kisses grew more insistent, gentle pecks turning into bites. He places a hand on his waist and traces the grooves in his hips.
It's too much.
It wasn't enough.
Wise wraps a hand around his back, trying to urge him along. As soon as he touched him, Lighter flinches and pulls back.
Horror sinks in faster than he could breathe. "I'm sorry," he blurted. At the same time, Lighter says, "It's fine."
He takes a second to collect himself before clearing his throat. "I just remembered. You’re still sick. You need to rest.”
A laugh tumbled out of him. “Really? You’re not worried about yourself getting sick?”
“I have a good immune system," he argues. "Plus, I exercise. Something I think you should do more often.”
Wise playfully shoves his face away and Lighter’s eyes spark with mirth.
The lights suddenly turn on and both of them wince.
A gaping Belle is at the door, holding a glass of water.
Wise speaks at the same time as Lighter does.
“Belle! Were you there the whole time?! Why didn’t you knock?!”
“Sorry, Proxy. Uh, this isn’t what it looks like. Mind if you close the door?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Belle puts the glass down on the desk. “Don’t let me stop you! Oh, and Lighter, I just finished washing your shirt for you. It’s all ready now.”
“Oh.” He sat up a bit. “…Thanks, Belle. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, no problem.” Belle waves him off. “It’ll be outside the door when you’re done. I mean, you don’t really need it now I guess—“
“Belle!” Wise shouts. His sister giggles mischievously.
“Take care of him, Lighter!” she calls, shutting the door behind her. “Don’t keep him up too long!”
Wise lets his head fall back onto his pillow and presses the heel of his palms into his eyes.
“Ignore her…” he groaned. Lighter laughed. He could feel it rumbling through his chest. It was comforting. He could stay like this forever.
“So I’m guessing she knows,” he joked.
“I’m half convinced this was an excuse to set us up,” Wise grumbled.
“Hmm. Well... did she succeed?”
Wise looks into his deep green eyes. As lush and gentle as a forest green.
“…I guess so,” he relents.
Lighter kisses him on the cheek. “I, for one, am very pleased with the results.”
“You’re lucky you don’t have to live with her,” he grumbled.
“Mmm, fair. But I’d like to live with you.”
“What?”
“What?”
The two stare at each other for a moment. Lighter looked away. “Here. I brought the medicines that Lucy takes when she’s under the weather. I dunno how city immune systems work, but if it works on her I’m sure it’ll work on you.”
“Don’t change the subject, Lighter.”
Lighter sits up, still holding Wise in his arms. “I’m not,” he retorts. “Your health is important.”
“I wouldn’t mind clearing a space for you on our couch if it wasn’t occupied by Belle most of the time.”
Lighter guffawed. “I take it her bedroom’s also out of the question?”
“Yeah. She gets awfully prickly about her collectibles.”
Lighter pretends to think. “Well. I guess the only option would be your room then.”
Heat takes over his face. “Getting bold, now are we?”
“I meant the couch. But… well. If it’s all the same to you—“
“I think we should probably wait until my fever’s gone down. Wouldn’t want you getting infected too.”
“Hah. I’m made of tougher stuff than you. Don’t worry your pretty head about that.”
The word struck his head like a gong. Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.
“T-that’s… well, uh..."
Lighter gazes at him. As if there were nothing else in the world.
"I care about you," says Wise. "You can’t take care of others if you can’t take care of yourself.”
Lighter looks at him, an eyebrow raised. “Pot calling kettle black, no?”
“Ugh.” Wise buried his face in his hands. “You've been hanging out with Belle too much.”
Lighter chuckles. Again, he wouldn't have thought someone as rough and tumble as him have a laugh like that. It borders on giggling with a snort.
It's... endearing. Incredibly endearing.
Calloused fingers pull his hands away from his face. He’s met with the hardest look of determination and unwavering fealty in his life.
“I know,” he murmurs. He guides his hands to the sides of his face, until he’s holding them there. Until Wise is holding him. They don’t break eye contact. “I won’t make the same mistake again. I’ll protect you.”
Wise goes quiet for a moment.
“…There’s no need for that.” He smiles. “You’re safe now. Aren’t you?”
Lighter blinks, sparing a glance around the room.
“I’m not leaving.” Wise brushes his thumb against the side of his face. Lighter leans into the touch. “You won’t lose me.”
Something shimmers in his eyes. The man looks away, hiding his face.
“…Please, Proxy.” His voice frays at the edges, threatening to break. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“It’s not a promise. It’s a fact.”
Lighter looks up.
“Do you see me leaving this room anytime soon?”
The man hesitates.
“…No.”
“Then you don’t have to worry about it.”
He leans his head against his, feeling the warmth shared between them.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Their breaths are barely audible even to each other. But Wise can feel the tension drain out from his shoulders. The knot in his back unravels and he slumps forward and onto Wise.
“…Can we stay like this for a while?” he mutters. It almost sounded like a plea.
Wise leans his head into the crook of his neck.
“Of course. Unless you mind getting infected.”
A broken laugh wheezed out of him.
“If it means I get to stay with you? I'd want nothing more.”