Chapter Text
A few days later, Wise once again stood in front of Von Lycaon’s office. It was late, the clock hand had already passed six. The college was finishing its last classes for the day, most students and staff had already left the building, lost in their evening affairs.
He adjusted his tie one last time. In his nervousness, he might have tied it too tightly, but he could bear with discomfort half an hour. His heart skipped a beat at a sudden realization. In just a few days, the dean had learned more about his daily routine and habits than any friend or potential lover in his entire life. But he also hoped that Von Lycaon wouldn't talk about anything too personal. Yes, they were both men, but Wise would probably curl up and die from embarrassment if the object of his affections suddenly began lecturing him on birds and bees.
A soft knock. A muffled voice permitted him to enter. Von Lycaon was polite and elegant as always, but something in his look was different. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and his jacket with vest hung on the back of the chair. His fur was slightly ruffled after a long day. It was imperfect look, but that only added to his charm. Von Lycaon looked relaxed and comfortable, especially in contrast to Wise, who was still wrapped tightly in his university uniform. And Wise was genuinely envy. He dreamed of the day when he could prioritize comfort over appearance.
Wise sat in front of the massive wooden desk, pulled out his notebook and a few pens, trying to take up as little space as possible. The dean turned the computer monitor to him and began a long lecture on sleep hygiene. It was a rich lecture, full of theory and practical tips seasoned with their usual light flirting. Wise would say the dean was in top his form today. He radiated enthusiasm, proudly showing off a beautiful presentation he'd prepared. And each time Wise asked a question, that charming smile on his snout became even brighter. At the same time, it felt like he was testing Wise’s focus. He leaned over now and then just enough for Wise to catch the luxurious scent of his cologne. Their fingers brushed when Von Lycaon took a pencil from his hand to draw a diagram in Wise’s notebook. And every such touch sent shivers down Wise’s spine and made his heart beat faster. Without realizing it, Wise responded silently. His gaze traced the curves of the dean’s well-worked body, he shifted his leg just enought to brush against the fluffy tail, and reached out after his hand to prolong the breath contact.
It was a good and informative lecture. Von Lycaon had clearly put a lot of work into it. Wise even felt a little guilty, because he knew he wouldn’t follow half of the advices. It wasn’t his fault, the tips simply contradicted his lifestyle. Air the room before bed? Sure! Avoid gadgets for two hours before sleep? Are you kidding?! Wise mentally ran through all the things he could be doing in those two hours and felt uneasy. At the very least, he could play some games from his long forgoten list. At most do a quick job in Hollow.
But not all of Von Lycaon's efforts would go to waste. He also helped rearrange Wise's schedule, shifting things here and there to win him a few extra hours at the end of the day. Naturally, Wise planned to spend them working. He had to confess to the dean that he’d picked up some freelance work in the evenings. But he changed 'exploring hollows' into legal, socially acceptable 'coding'. Now, this is the maximum truth he can trust his dean with without consequences for both of them.
"Will we ever reach the point where we can be completely honest?.. Probably not. The work of proxy never meant neither the career growth nor the chance to to show off your achievements to others."
Wise spoke as if he had already chosen this path, as if it hadn’t been chosen for him years ago. Helios Academy is not for casual students. Only children of rich parents could afford to go there for fun, to flaunt the name at investors and pretentious parties. That wasn’t sibling's case. They had no parents. They lived in the dorms on scholarship and government support. All the experiments their master had put on him, the eye implants she was preparing for them... All this wasn’t done just so that one day after his graduation he could say he was born to sing on stage. No. He’d have to earn back every denny invested in him. The academy already had plans for him. what they are or when they'll be set in motion, but he could feel the moment creeping closer, even though he was only a first-year. Wise looked at his already packed schedule with dread. A thought flashed through his mind:
"I can’t do this."
Which he immediately replaced with another:
"You must."
As if reading his mind, Von Lycaon gave a soft chuckle and placed a hand on the student's back. A pleasant warmth spread down Wise’s spine.
"Don’t be in a hurry to fill these precious hours with more tasks," the dean said. "Remember to rest."
"Of course. Thank you, sir."
Wise closed his notebook, about to express his gratitude for everything the dean had done for him, but the dean beat him to it.
"Now then, allow me to show you a few breathing exercises. They’ll help clear your mind. These days, thereis so much noise around us, it’s easy to forget what really matters. Let me show you. You’ll feel better, I promise."
Lycaon gave an inviting pat on the back of the chair that stood a little away from his desk, near the cabinet. His eyes held a warm, reassuring smile that said, "It’s okay. You can trust me." And Wise did. A slight nod, hesitant steps, but he still walked into Von Lycaon’s inexperienced but steady hands. The thiren's tail flicked nervously. He wasn’t sure the next step would go as planned. Hugo had always pointed out his poor acting skills, and he feared they would ruin everything now. Wise sat down obediently, sinking into the large chair. The shoulders of his jacket rose with the tie as the fabric tightened around his body. It felt like the suit was trying to swallow him whole. He pulled it down, trying to sit more comfortably.
“Uncomfortable.”
"Good. Relax. Breathe evenly. Close your eyes. Listen to my voice..."
Wise nodded and followed the instructions, closing his eyes and sinking into the darkness.
"I hope this'll be quick."
"Wonderful. Now, name a place where you’d like to be? Somewhere you’d feel calm and safe. Somewhere where no one would disturb you. What’s the first thing that comes to mind?"
"Forest."
The thiren smiled approvingly. Everything was going just as he’d planned. At least for now, Wise seemed composed and didn’t resist. Von Lycaon hoped it would stay that way until the end of the exercise.
"Good choice. Nature always soothes the mind... Now, imagine: you’re sitting in a small clearing, deep in the forest..."
And Wise imagined himself sitting on the grass, staring at the edge of the world.
A cliff. Behind him — massive trunks with malachite brushes—
"...separating you from the noisy city..."
...and perhaps hiding something dangerous, something lurking among the roots,
blending with surroundings, waiting for the right moment—
"You look around..."
...trying to spot them in the black gaps between branches.
Maybe if he looks long enough...
"A gentle breeze rustles the branches..."
...bringing with it a grim gray sky.
Wise listened, trying to hear voices in the wind.
He couldn't hear Von Lycaon anymore.
Whispers filled his ears in chaotic unison, forming a single stream.
They strike his back like a crashing wave, pushing him closer to the edge.
And Wise lets them carry him.
"You should pay more attention to the details, Mr. Arna," — in front of him was his code, the teacher slashing half the points for incorrect formatting.
"Why does it matter if it works?!" he thought.
"I'll fix it," he replied.
"Too late for that," the professor shook his head in disappointment. "Just don’t make the same mistakes next time."
"Have a good day and don’t embarrass me in front of the other professors," his teacher’s voice echoed in his head, sending him off after morning tests.
"Teacher... I used the name you gave me as my proxy pseudonym. Phaethon. The dumbest decision ever. You’ll know instantly it’s me... What will you say when you find out?"
"Oh, and help Belle with geometry. She's been struggling lately..."
"I need to start earning steadily as a proxy so I can rent an apartment and finally get us out of that dump..."
"Belle..."
They’d fought recently. She complained the teachers in the school wing were comparing them again. They told her told to catch up, to be like her brother.
"I told her so many times not to listen to them, that she doesn’t have to be like me..."
But his words didn’t reach her. Lately, she seemed set herself a goal to become the opposite of him. She skipped classes, giving up on school, ignoring their evening movie nights...
"She doesn’t share anything with me anymore. We've grown distant... I don't know how to fix it. What should I say? What should I do?"
The feeling of helplessness squeezed his chest. A cloud of small problems gripped his throat like smoke, choking him. He’d tear one off, and two more would grab him from the other side. It felt endless.
Von Lycaon watched in horror as the situation slipped through his fingers like sand. His student sat there completely lost, breathing hard and with cold sweat on his forehead. The heavy breathing echoed in his ears. The wolf froze, clueless as to what had gone wrong — or how to bring it back on track. What mattered now was calming Wise down. He acted on instinct. The boy flinched when strong hands grabbed his shoulders and lift him from the velvet chair. Von Lycaon loosened the tight tie with a claw, pulled off the jacket, unbuttoned the collar, and sat in the chair himself, placing Wise between his legs. The young man’s slim back pressed against Von Lycaon’s firm chest, and a hot whisper brushed his ear:
"Please, breathe with me."
Wise shook his head, barely able to speak.
"...can’t..."
"You can. Come on. Inhale with me."
Von Lycaon took a deep breath. Wise followed, then quickly took several shallow gasps.
"Shhh — no-no, don't do that, okay?. Exhale with me."
Wise exhal's late, shaky. Matching Von Lycaon’s rhythm was difficult. Sometimes it felt like his lungs would burst from too much air. Other times, he panicked, convinced they’d collapse and never open again. Still, Von Lycaon stayed with him, holding his hands, whispering praise, encouraging him to keep trying. They lost track of time, it seems to have taken them a good hour. But eventually, Wise’s breathing slowed and began to synchronize with the man’s. His mind gently drifted back to the present. Wise could feel the wolf’s embrace shielding him from the outside world. He felt the heat radiating from the thiren’s body. The fur felt itchy through his shirt like hundreds of tiny needles.
"A pleasant feeling."
He exhaled heavily, finally relaxing. He leaned back, resting his head on Von Lycaon’s shoulder. His lazy gaze dropped to their linked hands. His own much smaller, and the dean held them like he was trying to anchor him to this world. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Wise felt someone’s presence so clearly and enjoyed it.
"Can I stay in your arms forever?"
It was as if a tightly wound thread snapped inside him, releasing all the heavy thoughts and feelings. Everything fell away. And in the silence, empty but free, he let Von Lycaon stay with him until he could put himself back together.
"Sorry..." the boy croaked.
"Don’t apologize," Von Lycaon whispered in return.
He wanted to say more — find the right words to ease the pain and express his regret. To show he cared, that he understood. But he didn’t know how to shape this emotional storm into speech. In his head, Hugo’s mocking voice echoed:
"Pfft, your words could only impress a stray dog."
The wolf’s ears drooped, betraying his owner’s will.
"Hugo always knows what to say..."
Only now did Wise notice something he’d missed all evening. On the dean’s ring finger, there was no wedding band. Only flattened fur where it used to be.
"Why?" — the thought flashed too fast to grab. Maybe he just didn’t want an answer. Didn’t want to complicate their cheerful little campus romance doomed to end as quickly as it began. Wise felt utterly drained. All he wanted now was to close his eyes and forget about his existence just for a few hours.
Wise left.
Von Lycaon still sat in the office in that same chair. His head rested on his hands, elbows on his knees. He kept replaying the events of the evening over and over. His heart was heavy with guilt. He scolded himself for growing attached, for straying from the plan, for being inexperienced. He wanted to help but only made things worse.
"To hell with Hugo and his plan! This is all his fault! If it weren’t for him—"
If it weren’t for one of Hugo’s “brilliant” ideas, his life wouldn’t be a maze no way out. There would be only one person in front of him — his husband, the one he’d come home to every night. No emptiness in his chest. No guilt in his eyes. No excuses for staying late at the university. No lies. A notification pulled him out from his dark thoughts. He stood and walked to the table. The message from Hugo:
Von Lycaon scoffed and tossed the phone back on the table.
"As always," he thought.
Every time they fought, they ignored each other until one of them got tired of it and wanted to make peace, they’d use work as a pretext to reconnect. And now, here they were, looping through that familiar cycle again. This time they fought about that damn Valentine’s Day dinner. Von Lycaon still kicked himself for believing it was just a normal romantic evening, just the two of them at a nice restaurant, like a normal couple. But in truth, the “romantic dinner” turned out to be just another assignment for the Mockingbirds.
"Two birds with one stone," as Hugo had put it that night, utterly confused by the wolf’s fury.
Another notification:
Lycaon let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to go home. And even more, he didn’t want to deal with Hugo. Even if, by some miracle, the conflict didn’t get swept under the rug like it usually did. Even if Hugo tried to fix things. Lycaon didn’t have the evergy for this conversation tonight. His heart didn’t even know what it wanted anymore. He wouldn’t be able to tell Hugo the truth. And he couldn’t lie either. Still… slowly, reluctantly, he began to gather his things. Because he knew full well: his husband was more than capable of making good on his threat.