Chapter Text
There is nothing in the outside world that breaks their little bubble—no classes to hurry to; no people banging down the door; no friends, no enemies that call for their attention—and yet Ren uncurls from Kyo all the same. Asks once more in that shy voice whether Kyo will come over later.
Kyo has always known this to be true:
Nothing lasts forever.
But even so–
That doesn't mean he won't fight for it.
It's nighttime when Kyo knocks on his door.
The sounds of hurried footsteps leak from between the gap between the door, and sure enough, Ren shoves open the door with haste.
"Kyo...!"
His exuberant grin is met with a wry smile.
"Ren."
Ren opens the door and ushers Kyo inside, shutting the door behind them.
Kyo watches as Ren takes a deep breath, chest expanding, before exhaling in an audible whoosh. His pants legs swish as he makes a beeline to his desk—quickly opening one of the drawers and snatching its contents. Ren's eyes peek at Kyo from beneath his eyelashes, luminous searchlight blue, before they flick back to the ground.
"H–here. You won your challenge the other day, fair and square, so—"
He clears his throat.
"It's, um...tradition for me to give you this."
Ren holds his palm out to Kyo—eyes averted, voice petering—and resting on it rests the horn of the alien they'd defeated together. Eyes wide, Kyo shuffles closer; takes the shell into his palms for inspection.
It's different from the last time he saw it. First of all, it's a much smaller fragment—the alien had been huge and his horns had reflected that. When Kyo had originally snapped it off the alien's head, it was larger than his forearm. The chunk Ren was holding is only half the original length, if he could even call it that.
From the looks of it, the horn had been shattered to pieces, then reworked to a flatter shape; an iridescent metal—colored like white creme, and gently ebbing with pinks and blues in the light—holds the black shards together. A curled pattern of golden wisps—a compact version of the one sitting on Ren's shirt collar—is etched on an emblem at the base of the creation. Making its home under a handle like black obsidian; a shimmering stone embedded at the end in mimicry of glowing horns.
Wait–
A handle?
Kyo's brows furrow, and Ren's lips turn in a fledgling smile. His fangs peek out shyly.
"You see that gold part? Try holding the handle and pressing your thumb against it."
Kyo complies, and in a moment of deja vu, the rest of the horn slides clean off—its inner contents revealed.
Kyo stands there, blinking down at the serrated knife in his hand.
"Huh."
Ren breaks the silence.
"On my home planet, it was customary to repurpose any spoils of war—salvage what remained and make use of what's left. For the most part, it was just what you'd expect: repurposed technologies, recycled machinery. But sometimes it was more than just that—it was about creating something new from the chaos."
Ren looks down at the dagger in Kyo's hand, his smile gentling the angles of his face. His horns shimmer fondly.
"Sometimes we'd make each other an item out of our spoils. Sometimes it's a trophy, or a symbol. A reminder of their triumph; a summation of their character—something like that. Other times it was a gift. A token of our affection. Something we know they need; as a gesture of how well we understand and care for them."
Ren's head lifts as he looks off to the side. Kyo watches the cut of his jaw bob—the silent metronome to a song of Ren's people—as Ren speaks. Slow and steady: with a lilt and cadence of childhood memories.
"Ever since I was young, I'd wondered what mine would look like. I always thought when I'd finally get to do it for someone else, it would be beautiful. A reminder of the things that make life worth fighting for. And maybe—it would even be something they could look at and think of me. I've dreamt of what it'd be like, of who I'd do it for, since forever ago."
His eyes are distant at the confession, hazy in his musings.
"I glad," his lips pull up fondly, "I had the chance to make something for you."
Kyo stares at him blankly, and after a few moments of prolonged staring, Ren stiffens. His hands raise; placating gesture to wild flail.
"Now I know it isn't as pretty as it's supposed to have been, but I did my best to make it look good! I just didn't think you'd appreciate something you couldn't find a use for!"
Ren continues stammering, and Kyo decides to have mercy on him. He cut Ren off with a pointed brow.
"Bro you just gave me a frickin' extraterrestrial knife. You'd have to screw up pretty hard to not make it a cool gift."
He shifts his eyes off of Ren and down at his gift: inspects it in the light, turning it this way and that. The blade glints with an otherworldly shadow; a metallic grey so dark, it almost appears to suck the light out of the surrounding air. An illusion like misty shadow dances across its surface.
"Any other features here I should be aware of?"
Ren perks up at his promptings.
"Yup! I'm not sure how many of the features you can actually use, but I registered your prints into the unlock mechanism. That way, no one can open it without your permission. Well? Isn't it cool?"
Ren bounces on his heels with eager eyes.
Kyo stares for a moment before sliding the blade back in. It locks with a solid click, and Kyo shoves it in Ren's space.
"Aight. Prove it to me."
Ren obligingly scoops the knife into his hands.
"What—don't trust me? I'm hurt."
His scandalized gasp quivers, twitching with mirth, and yet—
When Kyo's mouth goes to open, ready to fire off a snarky burn like always—he fumbles. Chases down that instinctive response, and just barely catches it before it leaps into the open air. Out where Ren will hear it; where it can hurt him.
(Ren was already feeling anxious. Now was not the time for the usual banter.)
Kyo yanks the words from the cliff of his tongue, and scrambles desperately to find a suitable sacrifice substitute.
"I just, need to be sure—" He finally pushes out.
"please."
Kyo fights the urge to grimace.
Ren stares wide-eyed at Kyo. The gem of his eyes and the ends of his horns twinkle: stars framed in midnight blacks; the crude edges of obsidian meteor, and the soft curtain of raven's down. As if he were all the stars, the very sky itself; just as Kyo put him so. The world is hushed under the blanket of Ren's gaze: so very distant, yet luminous with life. A fragile moment for just the two of them.
Kyo tightens his fingers around the urge to cradle the sun in his palms, and looks away shuddering. His shoulders creep upwards; buoyed by the steam that's building in his chest and hissing up to his face. He hurries to shatter the moment: ribs tightening, throat constricting.
"...sometime this century, Ren."
Ren jolts, tumbling down from his dreams. A star pulled from the heavens above to reality below. Even still, he lands with grace; smiling like Sol.
"Aye aye captain!"
Sunny beam turned to fired steel, Ren turns to the task at hand. He gives the knife a cursory tug at first.
No dice.
Resting his thumb on the release mechanism, Ren pulls even harder.
Still nothing.
And then he shuffles his feet apart, knees bent slightly, as he tries to yank the knife free with his full, inhuman strength.
(The same strength that stopped an alien twice his size—who he'd watched punch a crater into reenforced concrete and metal—dead in their tracks.)
Ren huffs and huffs and huffs: muscles flexing, cheeks puffed, face turning red. In all seriousness, Kyo had kinda expected Ren to stop at the whole thumb part, yet he is still going.
Kyo watches with wide eyes.
(Honestly, watching Ren put in so much effort—tugging, flexing, bending, juttering—only for the thing to flat out deny him, settles something inside of Kyo.)
(No one can use that thing against him, not even Ren.)
(It is his and his alone.)
Kyo looks on in awe.
The insignia at the handle whines with a shrill beep, beaming in noxious neon reds, and Ren lets go immediately. The knife still remains sheathed.
"Whoops, sorry 'bout that. There is a limit to the locking mechanism; but long story short, it's really high. And even if you do manage to pry it open, the resulting energy reflux would make the thing explode in your face. So no one even attempts it anymore."
Ren passes it back to him, and Kyo's fingers wrap around it in a trance; one hand on the handle, the other wrapped around the sheath. His thumb brushes up against the emblem.
The locking mechanism opens with a faint hiss, and the sheath slides off with ease into Kyo's hand.
Kyo huffs in amazement with wide eyes. He clicks the blade shut once more, and his thoughts soar through his head: falcons darting, like arrows pierce the sky.
(Ren was right. This was something Kyo needed. Amidst the cruelties of man and nature alike, even in his old world, let alone navigating the treacheries of magic, Kyo was weak. Vulnerable.)
(scared.)
(What Ren has given him—both countless times before, and here and now alike—is more than just a knife. More than just words; more than just flattery and a promise to stay.)
(What Ren has given him is hope. Hope that he's capable of finding a future worth living. Hope that he'll be capable enough to fight for that future; to make it real, and catch it in his palms where he can choose to never let go again.)
(hope that he won't have to make it there alone.)
Something in his chest swells, shivering violently. Dangerously, feebly; skin and bones in a nest of broken shells.
"Ta-da! Do you like it?"
Ren splays his arms out cheerily, wiggling his fingers in jazz hands. Kyo runs his hand through his hair as he blinks away the heat in his eyes.
"Yeah. Wow, okay then. Sheesh—looks like Christmas came early this year."
Ren puffs up, literally glowing with pride. His horns dazzle in sparkling shades of blue.
Hold up.
Kyo pauses, running through Ren's impassioned speech once more.
There's...something about that whole spiel. Several somethings, in fact. Really, even the fact that it happened in the first place nags at his screaming brain.
Don't get him wrong, Kyo appreciates that Ren is comfortable enough to share some of his culture with him—is honored, in fact. Ren has always been tight-lipped about his time before Iluna—perhaps not to the point of withholding information on his past, but he certainly doesn't talk about it without prompting. And even then, he tends to avoid specifics.
So for him to share this much? Without prompting?
It's completely out of character.
And what's more:
When he was talking about the gifts—
Why did they sound so important?
There was a care he'd placed upon those items—with a depth that, if it were merely a common occurrence, just would not make sense.
Would Ren seriously be the type to give his friends jewelry?
Kyo scrunches his nose.
Yeah, no.
Definitely not.
...and honestly? This entire situation does not strike him as something that naturally happens with Ren. Not for his teachers, and not for his fanclub; not for Mari, or Aia, or Scarle, or Aster.
(And if that's all true—if he isn't just reading too far into this—he did that? For him?)
(For someone like Kyo?)
Nah, nah nah nahnahnah-
Something's up.
A writhing ball of emotions, like tangled vipers, drops in Kyo's stomach. Hissing as they slither closer; heads reared, fangs bared. Hundreds, no, thousands of possibilities clamor up inside his head, drowning out all thought as they scream for him to listen.
(He knew this wouldn't last.)
The fledglings screech helplessly as the serpents open their gaping maws.
(Idiot—)
The jaws
snap
shut.
Kyo flicks up his knife, pointing the sheathed end at Ren accusingly.
"What are you not tellin' me."
Ren freezes.
"W-what are you talking about?"
Kyo glowers at Ren.
"Okay at first I wasn't sure, but there's definitely some ulterior motive here that I'm not getting. 'Specially with how jittery you're bein'."
Kyo's eyes narrow even further.
"So spill."
Ren chuckles nervously.
"Y-you see..."
Kyo's stomach drops.
"Yeah?"
Kyo presses impatiently.
"When you," Ren swallows nervously, "challenged that alien the other day. You might have...accidentally issued a partner's trial...? With me?"
He squeaks out, tugging his bangs between his fingers.
Kyo lifts an eyebrow coolly.
"Okay—you're gonna have to explain. That literally means nothing to me right now."
Ren flinches, shoulders curled inwards.
"It's a…well—"
"Yeah?"
"It's a more formalized request for, um, courtship." He coughs out.
Everything screeches to a halt.
"Pause. Are you saying," Ren shrinks a little further at his tone, "that I accidentally courted your dumb ass by fighting for your honor? Like some sort of Medieval Times, blushing maiden bullshit?"
Kyo paces around the room, throwing his hands in the air. But it's no use.
The pressure in chest builds.
"Well fuck me, I guess I should just go and ask for your hand in fucking marriage while I'm at it! Were you ever going to tell me? Fuckin' dumb ass alien piece of shit customs–"
"...actually—"
Kyo whirls around, pinning him with an incredulous look.
"You're telling me there's more."
"T-technically," Ren swallows shallowly, "you've already done that...?"
Fuckin—
"Nope. Ain't no way I heard that shit. Pause. I did not sign up for this otome bullshit—"
Kyo smacks a hand to his face and lets it drag. His guttural scream is muffled by his palm, and Ren watches on in silence, squirming uncomfortably.
Kyo slumps over with a defeated sigh, lifting a deadpan face in Ren's direction.
"So I'm married to you now."
Ren flails.
"Nonononono–it's fine! I knew going in that you wouldn't know what it meant! This doesn't change anything, I'm just–being silly."
He slows to a halt, fingers curled unsure in the air.
"...but really. It's fine. I know you don't feel that way about me. At least, not enough for what this whole," Ren gestures vaguely with a tired huff, "alien mumbo jumbo shit is asking of you. That's why I didn't mention all of this when I gave you the knife."
"I don't need to be your husband to want you safe."
Kyo recoils, rage on hold; his eyes wide at Ren's words. Ren searches his eyes desperately, and all Kyo can do is stare, shellshocked.
Ren's gaze shutters shut, and he sighs as he turns away.
"What am even I saying anymore?" He chuckles wryly, running a hand through his hair.
"Just forget it."
"I'm sorry," he mutters.
"I won't bother you with this stupid shit again."
(Something about it—the down-turned face, the defeated tone—
stabs him. Right in the chest.)
(And all of the rage and indignation, the embarrassment the betrayal
burning in magma and doom, made solid by tears,
leaks out of him like a deflating balloon.)
But then Kyo registers Ren's watery eyes and something else snaps.
His vision goes red.
"And what if I do."
"D-do what?"
"Feel that way."
Kyo steps towards him threateningly; a storm cloud looming on verge of sparks.
(Because Ren's wrong—Kyo does feel that way about Ren. And he has proven that to himself—again and a–fucking–gain. That, against his best judgment, he wants Ren to be there. Whether under the willow, or fighting side by side; whether he's sparkling like a fucking rock, or watching Kyo sleep like the pervert he is—Kyo wants him there.)
(Maybe it's infatuation or love or a big fucking crush, he doesn't know. Maybe he'll never know.)
(But even still.)
Kyo stalks up to Ren in righteous fury.
Ren's head snaps back to Kyo as his foot slides back a smidge; his eyes wide with ears and horn alarmed. He freezes and doesn't move a muscle.
(How dare he. Claiming to know exactly what Kyo is feeling. The fucking arrogance, the audacity. Kyo will be the judge of that; thank you very fuckin' much—)
A single thought claws its way above the rest:
If there's one thing Kyo is sure of, it's that he hates seeing Ren unsure of himself.
(And how dare he—thinking that he doesn't matter to Kyo.)
(Unacceptable.)
"No. We are not gonna dance around this again. The last time we waited, you disappeared on me and got yourself abducted by your own alien kind. We're settling this. Now."
Kyo stomps up into his space, and Ren jolts back into motion, backpedaling frantically with arms flailing.
"K–Kyo...! We can talk about this...!"
Kyo snarls.
"Oh you bet we're gonna fucking talk–"
Ren's back bumps into the edge of his desk and Kyo rushes forwards. Slamming his hands into Ren's desk, Kyo boxes him in and surges up into his space with fangs bared. Ren leans away; his hands scrambling against the desk as he peers down at Kyo's leer—owl eyes and faintly glowing horns. The knife clatters across the desk and onto the floor where it is left forgotten.
"What," Kyo starts, "is it. That you want out of me."
Ren opens his mouth to answe–
"And don't you fuckin' try to coddle me and telling me some rainbows-and-pansies, kumbaya fuckin' bullshit. I want you to tell me exactly what you feel with me and nothing else."
Kyo's eyes narrow.
"Got it?"
Ren swallows and nods shallowly.
Kyo steps back and crosses his arms against each other, leaning into his hip impatiently. Stares Ren straight in the eyes as he stands there, eerily still—his lips stuck between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed.
Shit.
Maybe he overdid it.
Kyo huffs and looks away, scanning the rest of Ren's room. He paces over towards the bed and scoops up Nessie with both hands, before returning to push the plush firmly into Ren's chest. Ren's fingers automatically close around Nessie, his hand set to roam their back. Ren's shoulders immediately start to creep back down.
Much better.
Nodding to himself, Kyo turns back around and plops himself on the bed, propped with his hands against the sheets. He forces himself to remain casual; body lounged with slacked muscles.
Kyo looks up at Ren from across the room to find a soft look from grateful eyes. He scoffs and looks away. His voice is softer the next time he speaks.
"You gonna give me an answer anytime soon?"
Ren flicks his eyes down at Nessie, hand smoothing down the curve of its neck once more.
"I–"
He takes a deep breath and looks up at Kyo.
"I...really like you, Kyo. As more than just friends. And...I wanna be with you for as long as I can. Even if that means just staying friends."
Kyo scowls at him, but Ren nocks his chin defiantly, hugging Nessie closer to his chest.
"That's right. I meant what I said."
Kyo almost breaks right there.
He looks absolutely ridiculous: a tall string bean of an alien—a conqueror of nearly half the goddamn universe—hiding behind a dino plushie with frickin' googly eyes.
Kyo resists the urge to snort at the pout that threatens to grace Ren's cheeks.
Cute.
Not the goddamn time—
Kyo squints questioningly, studying Ren's face for more intended purposes.
"You're not joking."
Ren shakes his head, and stares back in steel.
"Of course not. I would never do that to you."
"No take-backs?" Kyo presses.
"Absolutely not."
Kyo stares into Ren's eyes, scrutinizing. Ren tenses up, but doesn't back down.
Kyo's eyes flick back up at Ren's horns: quivering in near imperceptible tremor. Recalls how they were shining like a frickin' Christmas tree; as if he was the one who got something out of this instead of Kyo.
...shit, but he was, wasn't he? Getting something out of this.
Because for some frickin' reason, Ren liked him. Has liked him for a while.
Has decided, in fact, that he liked Kyo so much, that he ripped his still-beating, still bleeding heart out of his own fucking chest.
(For Kyo—for frail, terminally perpetually ill Kyo. Who's rude, and angry, and almost never says the right thing.)
(Ornery, scary, rotten Kyo.)
And yet he still didn't think to tell Kyo just how much he's done for him. Still decided, like he has the fucking right, what was 'right' for Kyo.
(like the doctors did when they told him he had to stay in the hospital; like his parents when they agreed—)
(like he did when he isolated himself from others, bitter and angry and dying alone)
(he never got to say goodbye to them—)
He never did make the best decisions: ruled by his impulses; blinded by his anxieties.
God, they're such assholes, both of them; making it all about themselves.
Well. Guess it's Kyo's turn to pull their heads out of their asses.
Kyo sighs.
"Well alright then."
Kyo slaps his hands against his knees, pushing himself to stand before tucking tremoring hands in his pockets. His heart races in his throat.
"First of all, we're tabling the marriage proposals. I know we just propositioned each other, but frankly, I am not ready to be married to yo' ass, and I doubt you are either. We're the ones in the relationship, so we're the ones who get to decide—not some crusty ass aliens floatin' around where we can't even see 'em."
Ren straightens with a jolt, ears and horn perked up.
"Does that mean–"
Kyo interrupts him with a pointed look. Ren's jaw snaps shut with a clack.
"And second of all, I won't ask you to give me a pass on everything I inevitably screw up—your culture clearly still means something to you; and, as much as I hate to admit it, how you're feeling means something to me. But please, for the love of god, tell me what's on your mind before you go and pull that self-sacrificing, take-it-to-the-grave bullshit. I've waded through enough of that crap before the moon yeeted me for both lifetimes. You're gonna tell me, full stop, exactly what you want, and I'll tell you whether it can happen or not. I refuse to have one of us miserable here, so we're going to talk, we're going to compromise, and we're going to like it. Am I clear?"
Kyo levels a pointed gaze at Ren, and the other nods: breathless and glittering with awe. Kyo observes him for a moment and nods, satisfied.
"And while you're at it, please, stop me when I'm accidentally fulfilling some ancient alien ritual without my knowledge. I beg of you, I cannot go through that shit again."
He pauses, taking in the look in Ren's eyes: struck by stars and aglow like diamonds. He shoots Ren a deadpan stare.
"I hope you know what you're gettin' yourself into. 'Cause I have no idea what I'm doing, and I am not just gonna let you peace out if you get cold feet. You're stuck with me forever; until I drop dead, or leave your sorry ass."
Ren's eyes crinkle, twinkling with his smile.
"Then I guess we'll just have to figure it out together. Forever seems like enough time to learn, yeah?"
Kyo scoffs, but his shoulders unfurl a little.
"Maybe, but like, just barely."
Ren's fangs peek out playfully as he beams at Kyo, sunshine incarnate. Kyo resists the urge to squint again.
"Then I guess it's a good thing that I'll be with you the entire time," Ren chirps.
Kyo multitasks. Stares intently at the sight before him—searing the image permanently to his brain—and forces his cheeks to cool on sheer willpower alone. His mouth absentmindedly opens: cover fire in a tone as dry as the desert; stalling for enough time to reboot his 404-riddled brain.
"See, and this is why I call you a simp. You and your cheesy-ass lines givin' me indigestion—"
He grumbles under his breath. Crosses his arms again and turns his head when the sight of Ren becomes too much to handle.
(waves of emotion that crash over his head and leave him to drown. a surge of affection so dense it could crush him to bones.)
(kyo has to look away—he has to—lest this storm turns to tidal wave and swallows him whole. he knew this would devastate him, he knew that—)
(so why didn't you refuse, they hiss)
(why did you give him power over you, they screech)
Kyo refuses to speak.
Ren carefully deposits Nessie on the desk before bouncing up to Kyo. He stops right in front of Kyo: restraining himself from touching, but clearly vibrating with the need for it.
(and ah, there it is—his reason. his reason for stepping out into the storm; his reason for leaving the safety of his silent room.)
This dude.
(he makes kyo want to dance in the rain. to see everything that life has to offer. because he is the sun and kyo is the moon, and according to this fuckin' dumb-ass metaphor, ren shouldn't give a damn about him. but he does, and kyo is trapped in his gravity regardless; too small and weak and lonely to be otherwise.)
(because ren drags the stars down to earth, if only to give them away without a second thought. to him. to nasty, angry, rotten kyo. and makes him think, maybe, just maybe, there is a place for him here. for surly, angry, aching kyo: who is hurting from wounds unhealed, and grieving lives not lived nor taken; who is tired of leaving and being left.)
(Ren makes him want to live in this moment; to lay down his burdens and join him in the light.)
(Ren makes him want to just breathe.)
Jesus Christ is he a nerd.
Kyo looks up at him, unimpressed, and quirks an amused eyebrow at him. Ren grins and takes the invitation for what it is, throwing his arms around Kyo and smothering him against the fabric of Ren's chest. It's almost nice until–
"Aww, but I'm your cheesy fart!"
(...and maybe occasionally wring the alien's neck.)
Kyo freezes, only to immediately start rebelling from his place against Ren's chest.
"Aw hell naw. Ain't no fuckin' way I heard you say that. Pause. What kinda cringy ass," he pushes futilely as Ren laughs, "flirting do you think I allow. 'Cause I am a high-class motherfucker; I will dump yo ass right this minute–"
Ren whines between laughter.
"Aww, but Kyoooo~ Don't be like that, we've only gotten one minute into our relationship! I bet you're gonna love me by the end of this. I'm gonna shower you in affection and give you so many compliments that you'll never be able to deny it anymore!"
"Bruh, you on some copium, daz crazy–"
Ren snorts as he rocks them back and forth, leaning down to whisper in Kyo's ear.
"But seriously, thanks for giving this a chance. I promise I won't waste it. You can trust me with this, I swear."
He punctuates his statement with a big kiss, planted right at the crown of Kyo's head with an exaggerated muah.
He pauses, before nuzzling his nose into Kyo's hair.
"Oh, and keep the knife," he mutters against his temple, "I want you to be able to protect yourself in case anything happens. Plus, it would be a shame if it went to waste; I made it for you, after all."
A softer kiss gets brushed against Kyo's forehead. His cheeks catch fire again.
This absolute fucker. How dare he, playing with Kyo's feelings like this.
But still–
Kyo puts up a show of grumbling and allows Ren to pull him back in. He scrunches his hands into the lapels.
It's warm.
He might not mind it—staying like this for eternity.
(it's nice)
Kyo burrows his face further into Ren's chest; the hammering of his heart echoing loudly in his ears—embarrassment, glee; panic and fear alike.
He's afraid.
Afraid he'll betray him. Afraid that he'll leave him.
Kyo's knuckles go white as they clench his jacket.
Ren just hums and pulls him closer, resting his chin atop Kyo's head. Caring for him so simply, so easily—as instinctual as breathing; as fundamental as the Earth orbits the sun.
It isn't nearly as easy for Kyo: caring, that is.
Good thing Kyo's never been one to call it quits.
And yet—
Forever, huh?
Kyo wonders how far it takes them, before they part ways.
And maybe, he hopes, just maybe—
If they'll fight for it, tooth and nail, as long as they possibly can—
It might just take them as far as infinity.