Chapter Text
I jolt awake, arms flailing and half-legible threats already on my lips. I sit up properly, fumbling with the sheets to get my hand out and to the knife on my bedside table. I've felt this feeling before; the cold panic of waking suddenly to the sound of an intruder in my room.
I realise immediately who it likely is, and yet brandish the knife anyway, just in case.
"A - Al? That you?"
A familiar grey face steps forward into the dim light cast by a half-hidden moon. I toss the knife aside and focus on resisting the urge to wrap him in a hug.
Codewords first, always wait for the codeword to touch him.
"Are there other demons breaking into your room in the dead of night?" he quips.
I rub my eyes, relaxing now. "Maybe. Who knows. What if I'm running a cuddling business? You could be one of many customers showing up in my room."
He laughs at my joke, but there's something off. He can't quite meet my eyes.
"Al? You look kinda...are you alright?"
"I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you like this but I was wondering if I might stay the night?" he proposes, hands clasped behind his back.
I nod, excited but holding it back. "Sure. Of course. Any time. It's really not an inconvenience though."
He hasn't said it yet... Maybe this is official business or something. He definitely looks off though.
"I appreciate that. Oh - nightcap?"
I light up.
"Sure."
Finally. It's tempting to throw myself around him like an octopus but I settle for sliding out of bed and resting a hand on his arm.
"You wanna talk about it? Or is it more of a distraction type visit?"
He gives a soft sort of sigh. Maybe he's not sure. I leave him for a moment to make sure my bedroom door is locked.
We haven't slipped up yet, but he's hinted that if anyone ever found out about me and what we have then it might have to end. I'm guessing it's for his safety as well as mine, considering how well known he is but I dare to hope we could find some way through it if that did happen.
It's a little uncomfortable to think about not seeing him anymore.
I put it out of my mind, focusing on the now.
"D'you want anything, like a cuppa or - sorry, I tend to instinctively head to the kettle when someone's - uh - sad? Angry? I'm not sure, the smile's throwing me off a bit."
“Just a little...down,” says, softly.
I bite my lip nervously, frozen between needing to hug him and not knowing whether now’s the time. I've never seen him like this. It's...actually kinda scary.
“I don’t think your pyjamas are dry yet from last time - they’re still hung up. Do you want to borrow some of mine?”
He shrugs his coat off and sends it through the air onto my coat rack. Of course, even in a state like this, he’s still smooth as hell.
“Alright, forget the jammies for now, just take off the outer stuff and come sit in bed with me. It’s nice and warm under the covers.”
I pull gently at his arm and he follows me, slipping off his shoes as he sits on the edge of the bed. I make quick work of his bowtie, waistcoat, belt and pants. He undoes the buttons of his shirt and wraps it further around himself like a dressing gown.
I clamber into my side and throw the covers open for him.
“Come on."
He slips in smoothly, all the way under the covers, leaving only his horns and a couple tufts of hair peeking out against the pillows.
I stifle some noises of delight and tentatively run my hand over his shoulder.
He's rigid, but that won't do.
"You're kinda tense, you want a massage? Hm?"
"I disturbed your rest - I wouldn't want to inconvenience you further than I already -"
"I already said, you're not inconveniencing me. Really. Besides, I couldn't sleep right now knowing you're feeling this way. I wanna help."
By way of answer he turns onto his front. We’ve done this a million times but I still try to move slowly, sliding my palm flat across his back to rest on his shoulder. My leg following over to the other side until I’m straddling him.
Giving over-the-clothes massages has been kinda strange but I’m pretty used to it now. I steady the material of his shirt with my fingers and use my palms and thumbs to do most of the work.
It’s slow going, especially without oils to smooth along the process but he seems to enjoy it, curling and uncurling his claws in the sheets like a cat.
For someone whose primary weapon is their skill in speech, he gets awful quiet at times like this. It did worry me for a while, and still does to a degree. If he was uncomfortable, he’d say so. But at the same time, I’m not sure if this is really helping at all. A lightbulb goes on in my head.
“If, uh - if this isn’t helping, I just had an idea that might fix everything for about five minutes.”
Alastor grins over his shoulder. “Oh?”
---
“So? What’s the verdict?”
Alastor finishes the last of a crust and sets down his knife and fork.
“An ingenious idea. I’m pleasantly surprised that you remembered such a small detail. It must have been several months ago now that I mentioned it.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not every day that your cuddle buddy confesses to being a fan of pineapple on pizza,” I joke, blushing a little.
“Cuddle buddy?” he echoes, crinkling his nose.
“Is that one off the table too? Too juvenile?”
Al hums quietly. “I feel that we’re more than...buddies. I apologise. Even after all this time, I haven’t found a term that sits quite right with me.”
“Mmph!” I exclaim around a mouthful off pizza. “That reminds me. I went to a, uh, -” ace-spectrum support group “ - a dinner party with some friends and talk turned to relationships, I saw an opening and I kinda asked about our situation - keeping it all anonymous and hypothetical and everything - and I might have some good options for us.”
“I’d be delighted to hear all about them, but first I’d just like to say how much I love seeing you light up like this.”
I hide behind my sleeve. “Al!”
“It’s a sight to see and a joy to hear, darling,” he goes on, blinking innocently. “Sorry for interrupting, do go on.”
God damn.
I scrape myself together and somehow continue.
“Uh - so they - they gave me some - some suggestions for what we can call - uh - us. Zucchini.”
His brows knit together a little. “Excuse me?”
“Zucchini. It’s like - okay, I missed out a lot of context. So you know what a crush is, right? Well someone came up with ‘squash’ to mean a romantic feelings only crush and then someone else came up with ‘zucchini’ to mean a platonic attraction. Y’know, cause they’re both vegetables?”
“You’d like me to refer to you as my...zucchini?”
His tone is incredulous but I can see he’s considering it. I mean, it fits in with what we need.
It’s specific enough that we’d know where stand but vague enough that I can say it in public without having to worry.
Although I might get a few strange looks talking about the great night I had with my zucchini.
“I do have more options,” I offer and he nods politely while I try to find the right page in my notebook.
“Okay - zucchinis*, nestmates, datemates, datefriends, queerplatonic partners, just partners, uh - soulmates, significant others, companions*, playmates, counterparts, paramours*, quasiplatonic, confidantes, lovers*, sweethearts*, beaus and this one’s kind of a joke but; comrades. I’ve starred the ones I like and thought maybe you do the same and hopefully we’ll finally have a term we like?”
I hand him the notebook, my hands shaking a little. I do want us to find a word we feel at home in, but I’m also hoping this talk might get things out on the table so to speak.
When all this started I wasn’t sure it would last more than the one night. And then he came back. And again. And again. And here we are now. And I still don’t really know that much about him.
“It must have been quite the party,” he murmurs, glancing up at me.
I flounder for a moment then find my feet.
“Uh - yeah, well a lot of the circles I run in know a lot about this kinda thing.”
“I’m quite astonished. So many suggestions. There really are - others? In similar situations?”
Okay. Time to be careful.
“Well - of course. Romance and stuff is the most normalised kinda relationship but there’s plenty of people who prefer - this. Whatever this is. We’re not alone.”
His smile softens and his eyes fall back to the page. “Hmm.”
He looks so damn tired behind the smile.
“We don’t have to pick something today, it was just a thought.”
At least he doesn’t seem to be so down anymore. I’ve no idea what got him so upset but I’m happy to be a distraction. God knows he does it for me often enough.
“I’m rather fond of ‘companions’. But I could warm up to ‘paramours’,” he concludes, handing me the notebook.
“Companions,” I repeat, physically restraining myself from talking about Doctor Who. “I like it too.”
“You wouldn’t prefer something more…?”
“Al, you could call me anything, I honestly don’t mind as long as we’re together.”
He sighs, sipping his drink. “Thank you, darling. I feel I’ve made things rather complicated, with how I - how I am and -”
Okay, no.
“I love you.”
His smile collapses into a rare expression of shock. Oops. It’s back again in a second, wider than ever.
“Oh, you do? I worried that - I mean - I feel the same - I - I love you, too,” he eventually manages.
Oh, thank god. But - My mind catches up with my mouth.
“Well - you don’t have to say it back, Al, you know I wouldn’t - I understand what you’ve told me about your preferences and how this all might be temporary because of your work and stuff, I don’t want you to do anything that’s uncomfortable.”
“Loving you is not uncomfortable. Quite the reverse.”
Alright, so now he’s a smooth talker again?
A minute ago he was stammering and stuttering and now - well, his voice is just altogether unfair, really. I’m not surprised he’s got a magic microphone.
“What a brilliant shade of red,” he murmurs, leaning closer to peer at me. “You’ve gone brighter than my hair. How charming.”
“Psh,” is the sound I make in lieu of words. I’m not the best at handling compliments, as you can see.
He pushes back his chair and within seconds is beside mine, holding out a hand.
“Let’s call it a night, dearest.”
Lights doused, pizza put aside, covers up to our chins, we begin our usual ritual like we would any other night.
I’m not sure quite how, but a duvet and some pillows become an impenetrable sanctum as soon as we’re in.
“How do you always smell so good?”
He chuckles softly. “I think it’s a mixture of incense and my natural scent. I’m rather fond of sandalwood.”
“How’s it possible that you naturally smell like cherries? You’re - it’s actually irritating how effortlessly attractive you are. I bet you don’t even do anything to your hair, you lucky git. I bet it just naturally falls like that.”
Al smirks coyly. “Perhaps. I think you look rather lovely yourself. Especially your smile…There it is! My favourite smile in all of hell.”
A soft kiss on my cheek and he slides further under the covers, leaving me with burning cheeks and half-formed retorts.
My arms encircle his waist, his lips find a home at my neck and everything is right in the world. I take a risk and run my fingers over the line of his ear. He makes a soft sound of approval and I keep going, stroking his hair and ears like you might a cat.
The way he melts against me convinces me all the more that he needs this. I don’t know what he’s dealing with, but I’m glad to help.
I feel a pang of heartache that I can’t be here for him more often.
It’s a night here and there, the odd weekend if he’s not too busy.
I’m sure if we didn’t have to be so secretive, things would be a lot easier on him.
Y’know, he only talked about his place the one time but I still can’t stop thinking about it.
“Yeah, I bet you live somewhere proper posh, a big grand mansion.”
“It is quite splendid, if a little lacking in...warmth. Coming home to an empty home doesn’t quite feel like coming home at all.”
I get it though. He’s powerful, his enemies equally so. They’d use any kinda connection against him in a heartbeat. It’s hell after all. We can’t expect to live some idyllic, peaceful life together. But we have this.
He’s gone heavy in my arms, his arms draped over my hip and his face still smushed against my chest.
Falling asleep without saying goodnight? He really must be shattered. I smile when it occurs to me he’ll definitely be apologising tomorrow. I don’t particularly see it as bad manners but at this point it’s just cute that he insists on saying it every time.
For now, I rest my head on his and let my eyes drift shut. I’ll give him hell in the morning.