Chapter Text
Cleo calls his name when he spaces out for the 6th time at the cashier.
It’s been a week since...that.
Curran is so lost. Hein is all he thinks about.
‘Please love me,’ his mind unhelpfully provides.
He sighs and turns to Cleo with a small sound of acknowledgement.
Cleo was putting out fresh pastries — the ones Heinwald got for their... whatever it was.
Curran doesn’t remember as a date. Of course he doesn’t.
He misses him.
Cleo takes the last piece of cake and places it in front of him.
‘Curran,’ She sounds tentative. ‘Are you in love with Heinwald?’
His answer was without hesitation. ‘Yes.’
He wasn’t shocked when he heard this question. He supposed they way Cleo cheekily told him to get his boy meant he was extremely obvious.
‘Then...what about Heinwald? Does he love you back?’
Curran’s smile feels so pained.
‘Only when he drinks.’
Cleo hums.
‘Curran, maybe it isn’t as bad as it seems.’
Curran sighs. ‘I love him and he only loves me when he’s drunk. How bad can it be?’
Cleo shakes her head. ‘Well then, did you tell Heinwald you love him?’
Curran pauses. A flush colours his cheeks and he doesn’t want to admit this, but Cleo would never laugh at him. She’s too much of a supportive mom friend to them and he really appreciates her for that.
‘Once... when he was asleep.’ His voice sounds quiet and his face is burning.
Cleo sighs. ‘Not going to lie, you must tell Heinwald what you feel. You’ll lose him.’
‘I don’t even have him in the first place.’
‘That was just bitter, Curran. Try again.’
‘I... don’t want to lose him, of course, but I-‘
Cleo cuts him of by tapping a fork on the plate.
‘He told you he loves you when he’s drunk. Don’t you think he deserves to know you love him too? Drunk love or not?’
Curran is silent.
‘...I’ll try.’
__
He doesn’t. Even though he wants to.
He saw him with some other guy today, walking together, pressed close as the moved down the street, Hein so deep into the conversation he doesn’t even notice Curran.
His chest throbs with that familiar ache, and it forms dark, gripping roots of jealousy that seem to clutch his throat and make the pits of his stomach churn.
He pulls out the whiskey he got from a client years ago and pours himself a glass.
He sighs when he remembers Heinwald kissing him after the Dragonyule party. He tasted like whiskey too.
His next shot, and the next, and the ones after, all tasted like bittersweet memories.
He’s tired. He’s so tired.
His eyes droop.
—
Heinwald finds him slumped on the floor, holding his glass, staring at his books bitterly.
‘Curran,’ he says.
He sounds... like something that Curran refuses to acknowledge, something that would give him so much hope the ache in his chest would intensify.
He does not answer.
‘Curran, I cannot carry you. Would you try to get up?’
He ignores him still.
‘Very well.’
He hears the dull thud of Heinwald’s heavy books on his desk and feels the struggle of hands on his sleeves, trying to pull him up.
He sighs and pushes himself up. He shakes off Heinwald’s hands.
Heinwald looks pointedly at him and pushes him towards his room.
Sitting on his bed, he watches as Hein brings a washcloth to him and shuffles around cutely, dipping and tilting his head to fins his stash of headache potions.
He doesn’t want it.
Heinwald turns to him with a raised eyebrow and he belatedly realises that he said it out loud.
He feels Hein’s sigh on his forehead, breathe warm. He grumbles.
‘It is the truth, Curran. You will have an unbearable headache if you do not consume the potion.’
‘No,’ He vaguely hears himself whine, more forcefully now. ‘d-don’t want that.’
Heinwald brings the washcloth to his forehead with a frown.
‘Well, what is it that you want?’
His thoughts were muddled, heavy like fog, but the words Cleo said floats to the front of his mind.
‘Are you in love with Heinwald?’
He feels a tear slide down his flushed cheeks, and no, he’s crying. He’s crying in front of Heinwald and he’s-
‘Curran,’ Heinwald sounds panicked, ‘Why are you crying?’
He shakes his head and tries (fails) to push Heinwald off. He doesn’t want to talk about it.
‘Are you feeling unwell? Is there any problem? How do-’
His tears streak down his face and he shakes his head.
‘You have to tell me,’ says Heinwald, quite urgently. ‘What’s wrong?’
Curran shakes his head again, but Heinwald doesn’t back off.
His tears fall faster.
‘You,’ Curran slurs, ‘you! You are my problem! I don’t want the potion, I don’t want anything, I just want you, you, and you don’t want me, so leave me alone!’
Heinwald takes a small step back.
‘No, Curran, you are drunk. You-‘
A hard stare from Curran makes him stop.
‘You don’t mean it when you tell me you love me when you’re drunk. You won’t even listen to what I’m saying- I’m saying that I love you! I’ve been in love with you for so long and all you do is want me when you’re drunk! That’s why I’ve been taking care of you, not because I’m only a good partner, but because I’m in love with you!’
Heinwald stares silently.
‘I want to love you all the time. I want to love you when you’re drunk, even more so when you’re sober. But you keep forgetting, you run away, you pretend nothing happened. What can I do? I want to hold you with you knowing. I want to walk you home with you remembering. I want to kiss you without tasting the alcohol on your breath. I just want to love you always, but you only love me when you’re drunk. I miss you, all the time, and if you don’t miss me back, just leave me alone.’
He flops back into the covers and hides his face in a pillow.
He hears Heinwald’s shoes tap quickly on the floor as the door closes softly.
He doesn’t let himself think that the sniffles that he heard might’ve also been Heinwald’s.
——
Curran... doesn’t know what to do.
He opened his heart and spoke his mind and Heinwald left. He left a note, though. He was leaving for two weeks to attend to some nobleman he doesn’t care about.
‘What about me?’ He had selfishly thought. But it’s okay. He feels lighter than ever now. Heinwald has his duties to attend to. Not baby him and feed him headache potion.
He doesn’t know his answer though. Heinwald may not be the best drunk, but he’s still his partner, his friend. Curran cannot think of any reasons why he’d break off their friendship because of this. So he tries to forget.
Two weeks. That’d be enough time for him to pretend nothing happened. Like Heinwald does. Like Heinwald did.
‘Hungry,’ his mind supplies. ‘Cleo’s for breakfast.’
He rolls his eyes at himself. Cleo’s it is.
He’ll be okay.
—
A month since Dragonyule, 3 weeks since the confession.
Curran is... not quite okay.
Heinwald’s back, but when Curran went to greet him, he simply nodded in acknowledgment. And left for the lab.
He was expecting a lot of different reactions. He may have been angry. Scared. Confused.
But not this. Whatever this was.
It leaves him feeling cold and hopeless.
Maybe he’s been lying to himself. He doesn’t want Heinwald to forget. He doesn’t want to let him go.
Maybe they weren’t meant to be. But if Heinwald ever wants to come to him, he knows his arms will still be open, however weary he is.
—
Two months since Dragonyule.
And he’s standing in front of Heinwald’s door.
He had asked for him, according to the girl they helped last time. He has no idea why he called him here.
The golden handle to Hein’s lab glitters a bit in the afternoon light, and Curran’s hand rests heavy on it, pondering.
He sighs - and opens the door.
Heinwald is there at the desk, scribbling something, glasses drooping low, looking as beautiful as ever. His hair catches the afternoon light’s glint. From the window shines a bold golden yellow, illuminating the room.
Curran missed him. He misses him so much, but if Hein doesn’t miss him back, he would content himself to this wistful longing.
He stubbornly refuses to walk forward. He clears his throat.
‘Hein. You asked for me?’
Heinwald jerked upright, startled, and furrows his brows when his quill made a small scratch on the paper.
He’s cute.
‘Oh, uh, yes,’ Heinwald replied, hands flailing before setting his quill down. He gestures for him to walk into the room.
Every part of him aches to be closer to Hein, to have him in his arms, but his feet stay firmly planted at the doorway. He wants to tell him he loves him. But he doesn’t. He asks if Hein needs anything.
‘Huh?’ Hein seems bewildered, head tipped cutely to the side. ‘Close the door, please.’
Curran’s hand seemed to be glued to the handle. He let go of it hesitantly and stepped into the room without protest. Heinwald looks like something he doesn’t want to name. Something that would give him hope, make his eyes light up again.
‘Hein. Did you need my help?’
‘Come here.’ Heinwald sounds hopeful, the usual edge around his voice softened, and Curran’s heart lurches in his chest. He lowers his gaze to the carpet as the flush creeps up his face.
He takes small, tentative steps towards the desk.
‘So,’ Curran pauses again, fiddling with his belt strap. He sounds quieter than he expected. ‘W-what did you need me, um, for?’
Heinwald looks up at him. Blond hair mussed, eyes avoiding his gaze, and Hein seems... fond.
‘I love you.’
Curran swears his heart stops. He hears his breath hitch, and sees Heinwald’s face, ever beautiful and ethereal. His vision swims.
‘D-don’t say things you don’t mean, Heinwald, I-‘
He hears his desperate voice, tears building up, and Heinwald cuts him off by standing up.
‘Who says I did not mean it?’ Hein asked, voice soft, hands coming up to wipe away his tears. ‘I am not drunk now. This is sober me, telling you, Curran, that I love you.’
Curran blinks slowly, a sniffle escaping him. ‘Then why tell me now? Why did you tell me earlier? When you were sober? When we stopped the execution? When we were at the cliffs, at Chelle’s party? Why couldn’t sober you tell me?’
Heinwald lowers his gaze towards a pile of books on his desk. ‘I... I was scared.’ He shushes Curran and continues.
‘To be absolutely truthful, I remember most of the time we spent when I was drunk. I remember telling you that I loved you and you carrying me to bed. I was surprised that drunk me speaks so casually.’
Curran tries to catch his gaze, urgent and pleading. ‘Then why-‘
‘You never told me that you loved me back. I thought you were simply dealing with me because you were a good partner.’
‘Heinwald-‘
‘I always tell you that I love you when I am drunk. Because I can always blame it on me being drunk. And I’m sorry, Curran. I never thought-‘ His voice wavers, and Curran rounds the desk and pulls him closer.
‘I never thought you would love me back,’ Heinwald says quietly. ‘You never said it back. I never meant to hurt your feelings.’
Heinwald looks up, eyes glistening. ‘Sober me loves you so much more drunk me.’
Curran holds his breath and clutches at Heinwald, hands smoothing down his back, hugging tightly as if he has to make sure that he is here, he is real. He sighs softly, and his face breaks into a small, content smile.
He holds him tight, Hein’s head tucked into the crook of his neck, and presses a small kiss to his hairline.
‘I love you too, Hein. This was a secret between me and sleepy Hein.’
Heinwald smiles into his neck. ‘Awake Hein knows now. What are you going to do for not keeping your secret? How will you make it up to sleepy Hein?’
Curran just laughs. ‘Love him even more than I’ve ever had. Love him always.’
Heinwald snuggles into his embrace. ‘You better.’