Chapter Text
Erik dangled one foot over the edge of the building, and bent the other at the knee. The stars were out; night was in full swing, and there was music playing somewhere in the distance, in a room far out of reach. He had woken up an hour ago, wrapped in twisted sheets, covered in a sheen of cold sweat.
There was nothing he wanted more than to sink back into the pillows, and sleep. But he couldn’t. When he closed his eyes, pictures of caves and ethereal meadows ran through his mind. He saw Eleven's pitying gaze as he stood in a room full of gold. He heard Hendrik cry out in the ruins for someone long since lost. The sheets turned to vines on his skin.
Erik swung his foot back and forth gently, digging his heel into the stone. The balcony window was open, letting cold air into the room, but he didn’t care. It was unlikely that he would be sleeping, not with those dreams hovering so close to the surface.
A knock at the window jolted him out of his stupor. He reached for his dagger and relaxed when he felt the cool metal beneath his fingers, relaxing further when Eleven waved from behind the gauzy drapes.
“Knock knock,” Eleven said, a tad belatedly. “Mind if I join you?”
Erik leaned to the side and tugged the window open further. “By all means, step into my study.”
His laugh was the sweetest reward. They settled together on the ledge, pressed together as a chill wind whipped by. It wasn’t cold enough to be a bother, but Erik still leaned in when Eleven shuffled closer.
“What brings you out here?”
“Just a feeling.” Eleven drummed his fingers against his thigh. “I heard Hendrik wandering the halls, and I figured you’d be up too.”
“Mmm. Good instincts.”
“Only where you’re concerned.”
Despite the cool night air, Erik flushed. Since that first kiss on that first morning, Eleven had been freer with his words, and his touches. He pulled him into alcoves between meetings to kiss him hello. He ran his hands through Erik’s hair when they sat in the library, knee-deep in scrolls. He played idly with Erik’s fingers at meals, eating one-handed so that they could keep touching, and making a mess of his roast dinner.
It was deliriously good, bad for Erik’s pulse rate, and sometimes, it felt too giddy to be real.
“You know, it’s okay if it’s not back to normal,” Eleven said, out of nowhere. “You’ve been trying really hard to act like things are fine, and I know that it’s best to keep busy, but you don't have to pretend. It’s okay if it takes a while.”
Erik closed his eyes. It was what he wanted to hear, and not what he wanted to hear. He wanted to be fine enough to sleep through the night, and he wanted to stop feeling sick when he smelled flowers in the breeze. He didn't like watching El walk out of any door, in case he didn't come back.
“And you can talk to me,” Eleven added. “But I won’t be upset if you can’t.”
It wasn’t that he didn't want to talk about it. It just felt like a storm of sad, disappointing, dramatic, confusing messy feelings, and he wasn’t sure what any of it meant. He didn't know how to put the dreams into words. He didn't know if he really wanted to, not yet.
But it was a cool night, and the stars were so bright that they simply had to be real, and Eleven was a warm, comforting presence at his side. He smelled of lavender, which wasn’t quite a flower, and he wore soft clothes made of wool that felt wonderful when Erik wrapped an arm around his waist.
Erik couldn’t tell him all of it, but he had to start somewhere.
“In the dreams, we saw things that we were scared of, I guess.” Erik cleared his throat when Eleven dropped his head down, resting his cheek on his shoulder. “I saw a lot of things, but I only realised what it all meant when I woke up a few nights ago. I had a normal dream, or maybe a nightmare.” Erik cleared his throat again. “It was you, and Serena, and Jade. Sylvando, too. You had enough of me, and you left on the boat, and you never came back.”
Eleven stiffened. But to Erik’s relief, he didn't shoot up and start denying the mere thought. He didn't ply Erik with words when words felt so useless right now. He turned further into Erik’s shoulder and breathed steadily.
“I think that’s what scares me, deep down. The thought of being alone. Before, I would have given anything to never get close to anyone ever again, after what happened with Mia. I didn't want to be given the chance to hurt someone important. But now I’m scared that all the important people will - uh - decide I’m not so important to them.”
The words fell like rain on the quiet night. Erik felt a bit like clouds must feel after a heavy storm; light and free, as though some great weight had been dropped on the shoulders of something far bigger than him. He reached for Eleven’s hand, and Eleven took it without question, holding him carefully.
“I can tell you that you’re important until we’re both as blue as your hair,” El said, startling a chuckle out of him. “But I don't think you’ll believe it for a while. That doesn’t mean I won’t say it, because you’re the - you’re the most important person to me, by a long shot. But you’ve always been more of an action person, so I’ll show you instead. Every day.”
Erik grinned shakily up at the night sky. “Oh, yeah? How are you gonna do that?”
“By staying at your side for as long as you’ll have me. And if I ever need to leave, I promise to always come back.”
Erik barely let the sentence leave Eleven’s mouth before he was covering it with his own. It was still a clumsy kiss, but he was too shaken to really care. It was that giddy feeling again, but without the fear. It was real. He was kissing Eleven, and he was wide away, and nothing about this would fade when he opened his eyes.
“Come on,” Eleven whispered against his mouth. “Back to bed.”
“That’s forward of you.”
“To sleep, idiot. You need to rest.”
Erik grimaced, but let himself be pulled to his feet. Eleven climbed through the window and then reached for him, pressing quiet, loving kisses to his fingers while Erik fumbled his way into the room, all stealth.
“It’s a miracle you ever stole anything, with the noise you make.”
“You haven’t heard anything yet,” Erik promised him, and he only regretted it a little when Eleven shoved him on the bed, immediately whacking him with a discarded robe afterwards.
“No, I haven’t, and I won’t,” Eleven said, with a pointed glare that held little heat. “Not tonight anyway.”
It was Erik’s turn to get flustered. He burrowed down under the covers and shoved one arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't think he would sleep tonight, but already he felt drowsy. Eleven burrowed into the other side of the bed and pressed up against his side, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, before taking his hand.
“Go to sleep, Erik. I’ll be here when you wake up.”