Archive of Our Own

His bed was too soft.

It felt like floating, lying on the plush mattress. It felt like weightlessness. It felt… like nothing at all.

It won’t be long now.

It can’t be long now.

A sudden popping noise shattered the silence like a baseball through a greenhouse window. Kinger’s eyes creaked open, noticing a smudge of red against his plum-colored ceiling. As the world slowly shifted into focus, he realized who had entered his room.

Kinger shut his eyes again.

“Hey now, Sleeping Beauty! Don’t you think you’ve done enough dozing?” Caine’s chipper voice stomped on the shattered remains of Kinger’s peace and quiet. “You’ve missed ten adventures already!”

“…Ten?” Kinger’s eyes opened again before he could stop them, and he was surprised by the sound of his own raspy voice. He cleared his throat, then continued: “It’s already been over a week? ”

“Yes!” Caine confirmed. “Honestly, I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did without getting bored!”

Ten days. 240 hours. 864,000 seconds of near-complete sensory deprivation. 

And it wasn’t enough.

Something wet slid down Kinger’s cheek. 

“…Kinger? Why are you—”

“ Fine, ” Kinger snapped, wiping a gloved hand across his face. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“…Okay! Yay!” Caine’s gums tilted upwards in an approximation of a smile. “Honestly, that’s a relief! I was beginning to get worried about you!”

He said it so brightly, the meaning was almost lost on Kinger. Caine was… worried about him. Uncertain about his future, and concerned as a result. Unlike his fellow humans, who perfectly understood the inevitability of the situation. 

 Kinger sighed. “Well, now you know that I’m okay. You can leave.” He rolled over, away from Caine, and allowed his eyes to drift closed—

“Wait!” Caine abruptly darted over to face Kinger again. “So, this means you’ll be joining us for an adventure tomorrow, right?”

Ah.

When Kinger opened his eyes again, they had sharpened into a glare. “…Is that all you care about?” 

Caine blinked, smile drooping. “Sorry?”

“The adventures. You only care that I participate, right? You’re just annoyed that I’ve been ignoring you.” Kinger thought his words would have more bite to them, but they came out soaked in exhaustion. After all, it’s not like Caine’s concern mattered to him. 

“I— hang on, I’m not annoyed! I’m just— okay, I guess I’m a bit miffed that you’ve disregarded my adventures, but—”

Kinger loudly exhaled, covering his face with a gloved hand. “Of course. Caine, I’m not going on any more adventures.”

“A—” Caine froze, momentarily staring into nothing at all. 

Then, without warning, he flashed forward until his teeth were inches away from Kinger’s eyes. “You can’t just stop, you love my adventures!”

“Love?” Kinger questioned, suddenly indignant. “I love my wife. ” 

Silence flooded the room. 

Caine was stunned again, though this time, it seemed to be more metaphorical— he continually opened his mouth to speak, before changing his mind and closing his teeth with a soft clack . 

Finally, in a small voice, Caine asked: “How am I supposed to help you without my adventures?”

You’re not supposed to.

That’s what Kinger should have said. That was the truth. The greatest aide Caine could provide to him was to leave him to his fate. 

But looking into Caine’s mismatched eyes, suddenly so earnest with confusion and concern… he couldn’t give an answer like that. Caine wouldn’t accept it. 

“I don’t know,” Kinger admitted, exhaustion seeping into his voice. “But if you care about me, you’ll figure it out.” 

With that, Kinger slid back down and pulled the covers over his head. When Caine responded, his voice was muffled by the fabric: “Okay. I will!”

And then, with a pop, he was gone. And Kinger was once again alone. 

-

“ Daisy… daisy… give me your answer do…”

The soft singing gently woke Kinger from his slumber. He blinked his eyes, sitting up in bed slowly. 

“ I’m half crazy… oh, for the love of you…”

As though he was hypnotized, Kinger slid out of bed and across the floor. That song…

“ It won’t be a stylish marriage…”

Kinger’s hand was on the doorknob now. 

“ I can’t afford a carriage…”

That song…

“But you’ll look sweet, upon the seat,”

That was their song.

“Of a bicycle built for—”

The door opened. 

Bracing himself for the brightness of the circus halls proved to be unnecessary, as the lights had dimmed to simulate night. In fact, the only source of light was Caine’s shining eyes, hovering above a bouquet of roses. “Ah! There you are, my lethargic lovebug!” 

Kinger blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Looked back at Caine.

Then, without a word, he turned to go back to bed. 

“H-hey! You’re not even hearing me out!” Caine zipped in front of Kinger, leaning forward. “You don’t even know what my plan was!”

“Were you trying to flirt with me?”

“Um. Sort of?”

Kinger sighed, drawn-out and exhausted. “And what on earth led you to believe that would help? In any way?”

“Well, it’s simple, really! You challenged me to come up with an activity to lift your spirits that isn’t an adventure. So I got to thinking… What’s something you enjoy doing in your free time? Something you may be missing? Something that always made you happier?”

“You sincerely thought going on a date would help me cope with the loss of my wife?”

“Huh? No, no, of course not!” Caine raised his gloved hands in self-defense. “I of course recognize that I can’t replace or replicate the emotional intimacy you had with Queenie.” 

Kinger swallowed another wave of pain at the mention of her name. “...Right. So what were you planning?”

“Well, I can replicate physical intimacy!” Caine said cheerfully. 

“...What.”

“Well, I can replicate–”

“No, I heard you. I just…” Kinger paused for a moment, putting a hand on his temple. “You want— can you even— how do you even know about— physical intimacy?! ”

“Oh, is that term unclear? I’m talking about sex.” 

“I know what you’re talking about!” Kinger snapped. “But— Caine, you don’t even let us say f [BEEP!] k, how do you possibly expect to do it?”

“Ah, well…” Caine began to wring his hands, glancing to the side. “If the censors don’t kick in, it must be fine! You and Queenie were able to approximate it, after all… ” 

Kinger’s chest ached at the memory. Another reminder that a part of him was missing… gone to a place he could not follow, no matter how hard he tried. 

And God, he’d tried. 

Something wet slid down his cheek. 

And then, an unfamiliar warmth wiped it away. Kinger’s eyes refocused to find Caine mere inches from him, wiping the tear from his face. “Oh, Kinger…”

Kinger wanted to recoil, to swat Caine’s hand away and retreat back into the comfort of solitude. But the touch was the first he’d felt since entering his room, and it felt so good . He found himself leaning into the gloved hand, and felt the cold sting on his cheeks when it finally withdrew. 

“I’m sorry if the idea upset you.” Caine was quiet, quieter than he’d ever been. “You can forget all about it, if you want.”

But Kinger knew that wasn’t true– that even if he sat in this room for the rest of time, the phantom touch on his cheek would haunt him eternally.

And wasn’t that pathetic? His wife had only just died, he was supposed to be with her, he wasn’t supposed to think of anyone or anything but her. He was being selfish, as always. He didn’t deserve–

Didn’t deserve to–

“Kinger?” 

“ I don’t deserve to live. ”

The room was nearly silent. Kinger held his breath, waiting for Caine to… Do what exactly? Comfort him? Confirm his worst fears? What did Kinger want , exactly?

It didn’t matter, because what Caine said next was something entirely different: “Alright. So what?”

“S-so what?” Kinger stammered.

“Yeah, so what? Maybe you don’t deserve to live. Maybe Queenie didn’t deserve to abstract. Maybe none of you deserved to enter this circus in the first place. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re here.” Caine’s teeth bent into a smile. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m here, to help. So why not have a good time, anyway?”

Kinger stared at Caine. Caine looked back, unblinking. 

“...Ok.” Kinger finally broke the silence. “F [BOINK] k it.”

“So that’s a yes?” Caine’s eyes sparkled with excitement. If Kinger really thought about it, he might wonder why exactly Caine seemed so invested in this, in him specifically.

But Kinger was so tired of thinking. 

Instead of answering the question, he grabbed Caine by the lapels and dragged him into the room, spinning around to fling him onto the bed. Kinger slammed the door behind him. 

“Woah!” Caine exclaimed. “Alright! So how do you want— mmph! ”

Caine’s question was cut short by Kinger practically throwing himself at him, their faces colliding with an audible click! Kinger was quickly confronted by the fact that kissing would be difficult— he had no mouth, Caine was all mouth— but he could make this work. Caine’s mouth was shut, most likely to protect his sensitive eyes from the sudden movement, so Kinger simply pressed his face against the teeth. 

The teeth were an odd texture to explore, smooth and straight with slight curves separating one from the other. As Kinger made his way across Caine’s mouth, the phantom taste of mint flooded his brain. Cold, smooth, slightly sweet. 

The mental image of Caine brushing his oversized teeth with an oversized toothbrush caused Kinger to pause and lean back, letting out a sharp, humorless laugh. 

Caine slowly peaked his eyes out from between his teeth, expression a perfect mixture of concern and hope. “Er… yeah! I was going to suggest a variety of avatar modifications to make things easier, but this is fine too! Glad you seem to be enjoying yourself!” With that, he closed his mouth again, obediently awaiting more kisses. 

Kinger’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight. “So you’re just going to sit there? Let me do all the work?”

Caine opened his teeth slightly, one eye peeking through the gap. “Is that… not what you want?”

Kinger’s chest seized up slightly. What I want…

He’d spent so long chasing one singular goal, to no avail. Because it was right, it was natural, it was expected . And he would lose himself a thousand times over if it meant seeing her again. It was what he needed.

But what did he want?

“Kinger.” 

Caine’s eyes were both open now. Kinger met them with newfound determination. “What I want,” he declared, voice low, “Is for you to f [SQUEE] k me so hard I can’t feel anything else. And fast.”

“Oh! Uh! Okay!” Caine’s voice rose in pitch. “Well, there’s a few ways that I can—”

“ Fast .”

Caine stared at Kinger for a moment, most likely calculating millions of probable outcomes. Then, with a sort of calm determination that Kinger hadn’t seen before, he reached into his head and removed both eyes, placing them on the bedside table. 

Kinger watched, annoyance interrupted by curiosity. What was he—

Without warning, Caine’s body leapt forward and grabbed Kinger’s neck between his teeth. Thirty-two points of pressure dug into his soft wooden surface, and Kinger gasped . “Oh!”

The pressure lessened, jaws loosening. “ Thoo muth? ” Caine asked. 

Kinger closed his eyes, aborning the gentle breath that accompanied Caine’s words. Then, he steeled himself. “Not enough.”

The jaws responded within seconds, biting down harder. Pain and pleasure arched through Kinger’s body as each tooth buried itself in his wood. His hands flew up to grab at Caine’s gums, gripping the soft surface like a lifeline. 

“ Mmmm… ” Kinger could feel the rumble of Caine’s voice through each vibrating tooth, and underneath that a soft mechanical whirr as the AI thought. Kinger squirmed slightly, trying to distribute the vibrations to the rest of his aching body.

As though reading his mind, Caine’s gloved hands began to pull at the hem of Kinger’s robe. Kinger shimmied a bit more, shaking the fabric off. It fell in a heap off the side of the bed, and Kinger was suddenly very aware of the air against his body. 

But soon the warmth of Caine’s breath and the stabbing ecstasy of his teeth overtook him, again and again and again. Caine used him like a dog gnawing on a stick, bite after bite tearing pleasured moans out of Kinger.  

Caine traveled up and down Kinger’s body. It wasn’t long before the pair developed a sort of rhythm, Kinger able to lean into the bites and twist his body to cover the most area. As Caine moved from his base upwards, Kinger’s fog-filled brain slowly registered that something was coming. It was a similar rush that accompanied a roller coaster’s ascent, but in this state he couldn’t figure out why. As Caine nibbled at his neck, Kinger tried to remember what was so special about his head area… 

Ah, yes. 

His cross. 

The piece at the top of his head was, for whatever reason, extremely sensitive to touch of any kind. He’d only ever had it rubbed, gently massaged, by delicate gloved hands–

Fortunately, that train of thought grinded to a halt when he felt a breath on his cross. Kinger shuddered with anticipation as Caine approached, jaws wide, and bit down .

Kinger’s vision flashed white. His nerves were firing on all cylinders, communicating a feeling so sharp and acute that it reverberated through Kinger’s entire being. Tears sprung to his eyes as his body convulsed, lost in a dimension of pain and pleasure. 

Even after the pain subsided, Kinger was left in a state of shock. His cross throbbed, pulsing with echoes of the teeth that dug into it. The rest of his body wasn’t fairing much better, and the sore satisfaction was only matched by his sudden exhaustion. He slumped forward, leaning into Caine while mumbling incoherently. 

Kinger wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Though his eyes remained closed, his other senses returned slowly. He felt the silk of Caine’s suit on his cheek first, soft and smooth. It took another moment to realize Caine didn’t have a heartbeat– instead, his body buzzed with energy, a constant hum of vibrations and subtle movement. He could still smell mint. 

Caine was the one who eventually pulled back, and Kinger looked at him through hazy vision. It was a bit creepy to see Caine without his eyes, reduced to merely a maw. Still, his voice was earnest and filled with hope as he asked, “Was that good?”

Kinger exhaled, rubbing his gloves across his body. There were indents left by the teeth all over him now, divots in the wood that were sore when he pressed down on them. He knew the damage wouldn’t be permanent, but… it felt good to have these marks. It felt real.   Finally, Kinger turned to face Caine’s eyes, still lying on his bedside table. “Yes. You did well, Caine.”

Caine’s eyes sparkled at the compliment. “Oh! Well, thank you! So, you feel better?” 

“I feel…” Kinger took a moment to reflexively look inward, and instantly regretted what he found. Guilt and shame and anger burst forth like a geyser, destroying whatever enjoyment he once had. Why did he do that? Why did he think he deserved that? How could he do that so soon, so quickly, without her–

Kinger quickly dug his gloves into one of his bite marks, and the flare of pain blocked out any further thoughts. 

“...Tired,” he finally answered. “I think I should get some sleep.” 

“...Oh. Alrighty then!” Caine’s eyes flew across the room, landing with a squelch inside the mouth where they belong. “I’ll, uh, get out of here then! Glad to have helped and all!”

Kinger grabbed his robe from where it had fallen on the floor, wrapping it around himself like a blanket. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Caine floated towards the door, but stopped as his hand hovered over the knob. “So… you’ll give adventuring another try, tomorrow?”

You don’t deserve to see her again. Not after this. 

“Sure, Caine.” Kinger’s eyelids tilted in an approximation of a smile. 

“Wonderful! I’ll make it the best one yet! Oh, but you must not say anything to our other superstars about this! If they find out I’ve been letting you have sex, they might piece together that you’re my favorite, and we can’t have that!”

Kinger blinked. “I’m your–”

“WELP GOTTA GO GET A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP GOODBYE!!!” Caine shouted. Avoiding the door entirely, he disappeared with a pop . 

And just like that, Kinger was alone again. 

But maybe… a small voice dared to speak, maybe not forever.