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don't ask me about the ending by wharfroach for energeia
Fandoms: Nijisanji (Virtual Streamers)
21 Oct 2025
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Five years to the day, it finally feels like life’s starting to click into place for Vanta. He’s working on the big projects, people actually return his emails, and he’s developed a respectable ability to feign interest in quarterly reports. He likes to think he’s managed to hold himself to the breakup that took him down this career path being safely tucked in the past, where it belongs.
So when he runs into Freodore on the set of a movie he's working on too, he tells himself it’s all water under the bridge. Convinced he’s grown into the kind of adult who can make peace and be friends, he tries. He really does. Except Vanta’s still maybe a little more than weak to the gravitational pull of being in Freodore’s orbit, a lot more than he’d like to think.
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Themed one-shot collection for Kinktober 2025. Please make sure to read tags and warnings!
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Nothing about Kaelix quite fits all the layers hidden beneath this wedding. The simplicity of his answers in contrast to the unspoken politics and the quiet pressure of legacy wrapped all in silk and tradition. Either he doesn't understand what he's just gotten himself into, or he's hiding that he does far too well.
Not that it's any of Freodore's business. His job is just to make the wedding happen without any major hiccups, not speculate on the emotional subtext of a spring engagement between social classes.
"Well," Freodore says, tapping his pen to the page, trying to turn his mindset in another direction, "shall we build your dream wedding?"
Kaelix grins. "Let's do it."
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Freya's used to people talking about her and Kaelix like they're the school's gold standard for relationships. A good girl for a good boy. And she loves him, truly. She really does, and takes pride in what they have. But there’s always been this strange gap between who they really are and the polished version people project onto them.
Today, after Freya's left wanting once again by her boyfriend, she finds out just how wide that gap can be, and how easily someone can step into it.
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“That’s it? No intro?” Vanta asks, voice cracking with disbelief. “No nothing? Not even a ‘Hi Vanta! Thanks for dragging me away from the crowd downstairs or- or I’m a little upset at my situationship who hasn't asked me to date them for real yet maybe you’d like to keep me company instead?’ I don't know. Something?”
Freya pulls back and throws him a look, unimpressed.
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“Girl, you look incredible and I will not allow you to pretend otherwise. Show off a little. At least on the walk back.”
Freya crosses her arms, mutters, “Feels like my chest doesn’t even fit in this thing properly.”
Reimu scoffs. “Nooo, what the hell, Freya? They’re perfect. Kaelix, tell her her tits are perfect.”
Kaelix, standing nearby, helping everyone else pack up, had stopped only for a drink of water that’s already half-raised to his mouth. He chokes on it, sputters. “I—uh. Yeah. They’re. Yeah, they’re perfect.”
Reimu flashes a smug grin. “See?”
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Freya’s brows are drawn in, her lips parted, eyes fixed on his cock like it’s a puzzle she’s been handed with missing instructions. Her fingers wrap around him carefully, then give a slow pull, then another. Her grip’s too delicate, like she’s worried about breaking something.
“Am I even doing this right?” she asks, frowning. She’s pouting, really. Though Kaelix knows better than to call it that out loud. Not unless he wants her to stop entirely.
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“If you win—” Freo's voice breaks off, then he swallows hard. “If you win you can put it in. Later.”
Kaelix’s breath catches. That spark in his chest flares bright. He hadn’t been sure how he’d play. He still isn’t. But he wants to win more now than he ever has. It’s Freo’s last season and Kaelix wants him to see it, to know how good he can be and remember him this way.
“And if you win?” Kaelix asks, barely able to keep his voice steady.
“If I win,” Freo says, “No sex until finals are over.”
Series
- Part 1 of nice pitch
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Kaelix stares at the photo on his phone again. Freo’s hair is a green mess across the couch cushions, waves sticking to his forehead. He’s laughing, mouth partly hidden behind his hand, pink creeping up his cheek.
Freo lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh, swiping blindly at Kaelix’s face, a lazy slap with no force. “Delete that.”
“Never,” Kaelix says, smug, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
Or Kaelix's favorite photos of Freodore, and then some.
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Kaelix Debonair, youngest member of hit idol group BY THE BEAT, is going through it, because apparently not a single soul on god's green earth can imagine him dating his actual, real-life, (secret) boyfriend, Freodore. It’s fine. He’s fine and totally not slowly losing his mind while the internet invents entire love lives for them both—everywhere but where it actually exists.
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Freodore blinks hard. Seible’s energy, deep and blue, curls around them in translucent spirals before the terrain flashes once and disappears. When they land, it's on the edge of the rift gate, a rocky outcrop lined with old, dead guild scaffoldings and a pulsing beacon. The air in this part is a little colder, but it doesn’t help.
“Oh, he is so gonna lose it,” Seible mutters again with a soft huff, still half-holding Freodore upright. “But like, you know, Furi-chan, if you wanted him to worry about you, there are easier ways.”
Freodore exhales. “I’m not—”
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Seible stands in the doorway, winded, eyes wide.
“I leave you for what, a little over an hour,” he says, pointing a finger at Freodore, “and you get engaged to the crown prince?!”
He freezes.
Kaelix, seated in the chair by the empty hearth, raises a brow, leaning back into his seat. “Still here, by the way,” he says.
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It’s at that moment he realizes that Kaelix isn’t wearing a shirt.
His first instinct is to think, oh well, it must really be that hot and also agree with him. They only had the one fan which Kaelix insisted should stay in the living room while Freodore went about his morning in the kitchen nearby. So, it's possible that deciding on July for Kaelix to move in may have been a miscalculation on their part.
His second one? Is standing there, one hand loose around his cup, the other resting idly against the counter as he watches Kaelix go through the motions of dealing with the summer heat.
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Kaelix has five days to develop a respectable alcohol tolerance in preparation for a department-wide party at the end of the next work week. He considers people he's pretty close to from work, but knows that if he brings up "training" and "alcohol" in the same sentence, he's going to get a five-bar crawl and only 'just trust your instincts, Kaelix' as advice before diving in.
No. Kaelix needs a small, controlled environment to taste test his limits. And as it turns out, Freo is small and also very controlled. So he goes to him for help.
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It's just a broken android from the scrap heap, another ruined thing in a world full of them. It's just an easy repair; just the old android unit he fixed, now mostly functioning.
And then it's Freodore telling himself he isn't using it to fill the shape of someone he'd lost, because something he'd thought he'd long since forgotten starts returning to him in pieces.
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“Good evening,” the doctor says, polite. It’s probably the same tone he uses for chest wound triage.
“Do you—uh—come here often?” Vanta hears the words come out of his mouth, sees them fall like bricks between them, and immediately wants to punt himself into orbit.
The doctor turns, deadpans at him. “I work here.”
“Yeah, no, that was—it’s a joke. I joke sometimes.”
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Freodore feels the blush trying to claw up his neck, all while his skin keeps tingling, electric and raw in a way he’s not sure he can explain.
He lets his head fall back against the couch and exhales. “You’re ridiculous.”
Kaelix hums. “Mm, you know it. But you don’t hate this.”
He kisses his way back up the arch of his foot again. Freodore doesn’t tell him to stop.
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Freodore takes on a small job from Zeal, something easy and would pay pretty well, he'd said. Simple, in theory, too. Just sorting out equipment for him—nothing complicated. Or so he'd thought.
Meanwhile, Kaelix expects just some tech guy who might know what he's doing to help give his setup a much needed upgrade, which he does get, he just hadn't accounted for the same tech guy to accidentally make him want things he hasn't let himself want in a long, long time.
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Zeal wasn’t born yesterday and nor is he blind. But his lovely, usually careful, self-contained boyfriend has been ravenous lately, and Zeal is nothing if accommodating. And maybe wondering what’s stirred this hunger.
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Kaelix glances sideways, his voice light. “Maybe it’s seasonal. Like, I don’t know, a sign that spring’s coming early or something?”
Freodore throws him a harsh look.
Kaelix grins, faint but genuine. “Listen, if I start sprouting branches, you can have naming rights to the first bloom. I’m sure you’d give it a little flair. Preferably in Latin.”
“I’m not naming your lung flora,” Freodore says with a sigh.