Chapter Text
He ran his fingers over Spelldon’s knuckles, over tendons, brushed the skin on the back of his wrist, where the rose sat. Spelldon’s hand was wider than his, though the fingers were a bit shorter. There were calluses on Spelldon’s palms and fingers, suggesting the witch did play an instrument or two. Every few moments he let one of his fingers dance lightly over Spelldon’s pulse. Indulgent. Finally holding his hand.
Val never wanted to let go.
Every few moments, his iCoffin let out a BOO! signaling a hext from Whisp.
They had stayed up for hours the Light before, talking about everything -- Spelldon, the kiss, the potion. Sure enough, Whisp had been horrified to learn about his plan to turn himself into a hollow shell, and that had taken over the majority of the conversation. There, perhaps, had been tears on both their parts, but it had been a good conversation, and towards the end there had been a little bit of excited relationship talk before she had banished him to sleep.
The last thing she had said before hanging up was how she needed to meet him, and that he better earn her approval. “Only the best for my beastie,” she had said.
BOO!
She was able to be a lot more properly excited for him, now that it was the next day.
“Valentine! Hullo, Valentine! Wait up!”
It took him a moment to realize someone was calling for him. For a moment, he had forgotten that it wasn’t just him and Spelldon alone in the hallway.
He and Spelldon paused midstep, looking over their shoulders.
Draculaura was bounding up to them, her pigtails bouncing as she ran.
Val clung to Spelldon’s arm, partially for comfort as he braced himself, and partially because he could.
He had no reason to be afraid. As always, Draculaura’s heart was too big for anything but kindness.
“Listen, I just wanted to apologize for the other day,” she said, unexpectedly, as she stood before him. She spoke in a rush, “I’m afraid you got… well, rather the wrong impression. Of course I want to be friends with you!”
Val blinked, stunned.
“It’s just--” she explained, “There’s a lot happening right now.”
“Darlin’, don’t you fret none about it-” he began, before stopping himself.
He was doing that ridiculous accent again. The one he put on when wearing that fake persona he hated.
Why? What was the point of him faking and hiding anymore? What kind of friend did that make him, anyway?
Spelldon laced their fingers together, giving his hand a squeeze. Silently supportive.
Val took a deep breath, and spoke to Draculaura as just himself. “Take all the time you need, Drac. You’re my friend. I’ll still be here.”
Draculaura looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “Hmm… I can’t quite put my finger on it,” she said, no longer speaking in a rush, “but there’s something different about you, Kieran Valentine.”
“Good different, I hope.” Val shared a look with Spelldon, who was smiling at him softly. “Hey, want us in the crowd during fearleading tryouts?”
The question was aimed at her, but he was asking both of them. Spelldon was already nodding.
“Oh, I’d love to see you there,” Draculaura said, smiling.
“We’ll be cheering for you,” Spelldon said.
Draculaura waved as she rushed off to whatever responsibility she had next.
Val plastered himself against Spelldon’s side. He felt a bit clingy, but Spelldon didn’t seem to mind.
BOO!
“You gonna get that?” Spelldon teased.
“And stop holding your hand?”
“You have two hands,” Spelldon said, entirely too logical.
“Ah, it's just Whisp. She wants to know when she’s gonna meet you,” he said, before realizing just how serious that was -- Whisp wasn’t just any friend. Spelldon himself told him he basically saw her as Val’s family. “Er, that is-- if you want to meet her. I-I mean, I think it’d be cool! If you two. Met.”
“Hm, yeah,” Spelldon agreed easily. He was blushing lightly, still giving Val that sweet, soft smile.
Val’s two favorite people, in the same place? His heart fluttered at the thought.
From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a vapor of something vaguely loveheart shaped forming, not dissimilar to the cloud illusions he used to have follow him around, but it was gone before he could get a proper look at it.
Probably nothing.
Val leaned his head against Spelldon’s shoulder as they walked.
Spelldon turned his head and kissed his hair.
“So,” Spelldon asked, “how’re you feeling?”
His best friend was blowing up his iCoffin in her excitement for him. His boyfriend was smiling at him, letting him hold his hand like he’d wanted for ages. He had more than two friends.
And tomorrow, he had a shift at the animal shelter.
“Hm, you know what?” Val said, “Pretty good.”