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Despite how achingly tired she was, Keeva couldn’t sleep. Bane had been gone the whole day, and still hadn’t returned. Barsad had told her to go to bed, and that he would wait up for their tireless leader. But the bed was far too large and cold without them in it. She wanted to be annoyed at herself, already used to sharing a bed with them and their warmth. Under the door, she could see the dim light of something in the main room of the loft. Groping for her socks where she’d toed them off under the blankets, Keeva put them back on and slipped out of bed.
She came out into the hall tugging a sweater over her head, warm but far too large for her. The light on was the tall lamp beside the couch, the circular shade turned from pale cream to gold. Barsad sat under it, legs stretched out along the couch and with what looked like a folder of papers in one hand. She made no attempt to quiet her approach, and he looked up when he heard her, the lamplight reflecting off… reading glasses?
Drawing closer and adjusting to the change in lighting, Keeva saw that, yes, he was in fact wearing a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses. The image was so... domestic. It made him look incredibly human. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that there was a normal man under all the training. Well, not exactly normal. She was still getting used to two distant extremes living in the same body. She was smiling when she reached him, an impish quality to the glitter in her eyes.
“They suit you,” she said, sitting down at his feet, still watching with a smile. “They make you look…” She paused, tilting her head and biting her lip in thought. “Like a college professor that hasn’t had time to shave in the last week.”
Barsad scrubbed a hand over the scruff on his face, raising a brow at her. “I look distinguished then?”
Keeva looked him over, taking in the faded cargo pants, mended wool socks, and black thermal shirt. “Well I enjoy the look, but I don’t know if anyone else would call it distinguished.”
“That’s rude.” Barsad lunged forward, grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her up his body, arms locking around her back. “Take a closer look, then.” He ducked his head to tickle his beard along her neck, knowing full well it was going to make her squirm. But he held fast as she giggled, not wanting to admit how much he liked the innocent sound, or the way her small, nimble hands splayed and pressed into his chest.
When he pulled back, he was smirking, glasses slightly askew. Combined with his sleepy eyes and rumpled hair, he looked disheveled and relaxed. The glasses made him look softer, somehow, and she lifted a single finger to push them back into place. “I had a crush on my calculus professor,” she admitted, folding her arms on his chest and resting her chin on them.
Smirking, Barsad’s hands came to rest on the curve of her ass, squeezing lightly before settling there. “You don’t really have a specific type, do you?”
“Well… large and muscled looks good on any gender,” Keeva said, feigning thoughtfulness.
“You’re not wrong,” Barsad said. “Though I hardly fall into that category.”
“You’re bigger than me,” Keeva pointed out.
“That’s not difficult, habibi,” he teased, touching the tip of her nose with a finger. “You’re tiny.”
She made a face at him, them frowned, tilting her head to the side. “I really like your voice,” she said softly, pink going up her cheeks to the tips of her ears. “I don’t want to sound weird, but your accent is… it’s really nice.”
“Ah, so you like me whispering dirty things in your ear, him? Shall I teach you more Arabic, so you know exactly what I’m saying about this lovely body of yours?” He ended his sentence with a slap to her ass, making her squeak.
Keeva hid her face in his arms, ears burning. “Ass. Just meant that I find you attractive too. You’re all… lean and wiry. ‘S nice.”
“You didn’t answer my question, habibi,” he hummed, stroking fingers through her hair.
“You’re cheating.” They both knew that she enjoyed being pet, or having her hair played with. They used that knowledge to their advantage whenever possible.
“I never claimed to be virtuous,” he said airily.
She made a vague grumbling noise before pulling her head back up, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “I wouldn’t mind dirty talk,” she muttered. “In any language really. ‘Bitch’ isn’t a favorite of mine, though.”
“That is hardly a limitation,” Barsad said, dragging his nails gently along her scalp. “I’ll be sure my Brother knows. I know you enjoy his voice just as much as I do.”
Just thinking about it made Keeva shiver. Something about the mask’s filter gave him a constant growl. From what few words she’d heard him speak without the mask, his voice was just as low and commanding without it. “You would be a terrible college professor,” she decided. “You’d distract anyone attracted to men.”
Barsad snorted. “Despite what you and Bane seem to think, I am not universally appealing.”
“Well, whoever thinks that is just wrong,” she shot back. “I never told you before. I’m not really good at actual relationships, but if I’d met you before you… Before, I’d have definitely asked you back to my place. Glasses or no glasses.”
She took her time looking at the way the silver frames stood out against his hair and skin, catching the light. The rectangular lenses suited the shape of his face and jaw, the falsely sleepy look of his eyes intensified by how the glasses sat. He looked ruffled and well used, the thought making her bite her lip and smile. “Does Bane like them?” His body shifted under hers, a gentle change of the position of his hips, his eyes sliding away for a moment. His tells were different than most of what he’d been teaching her about how to read people, but Bane had pointed a few of them out.
He actually looked vulnerable for a moment, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from lunging in for a kiss. She was still trying to work out their boundaries, but he looked almost flustered. Very different from his usual sass and self-assuredness. It was… endearing. Instead she reached up and touched his lips. Barsad’s eyes snapped back to hers, and she let her finger drag softly over his mouth, pressing gently with her thumb before letting her hand drop back.
“You look good,” she mumbled.
A key turned quietly in the lock, and Keeva craned her head around as Bane returned, coming in from the front room with a dusting of snow on his shoulders. His expression softened when he saw the two of them on the couch, a slight lessening of the furrows in his brow. He liked seeing those that belonged to him together, almost as if they were waiting for him. His sigh was low and rumbling. “Stay,” he said, seeing Keeva try to stand and greet him. “Thank you,” he said, as Barsad pulled her back down.
Then the light caught on the lenses of Barsad’s glasses, making Bane pause for half a moment. The smaller man always seemed to be more vulnerable when he wore them, as if in exposing one of his weaknesses he felt undone. But his grip on Keeva was no less possessive, Bane knowing he would yield the hold to no one but himself. He would admit to a good deal of smugness as he removed his coat, vest, and boots. He still wore the back brace out of habit, and he heard Keeva grumble when he removed it himself. She had taken on the unofficial role of helping him remove his ‘armor’ when he came back to the loft.
He paused as he stood at the end of the couch, eyes trailing over the plump body laid over Barsad. Muscle was toning her, but the softness still remained, as pleasant to the touch as Barsad’s lean muscle. He sat down, easing into the comfort of the couch with a quiet groan. It was nights like these that he felt his age. He was only a handful of years older than Barsad, but his body was much more abused. Keeva’s bare foot reached out, stretching back to touch the side of his wrist. She frowned over her shoulder at him.
“You’re in pain,” she said quietly. Her concern was always so genuine, even though she knew that he’d been living with and managing the pain for years before she’d come along. She honestly disliked the idea of him hurting, no matter how much he was used to it. “Let go, Barsad,” she murmured, still looking at him.
“You’re tired,” Bane said.
But now Barsad was frowning at him, too. Bane’s second in command was of the opinion that he should make use of Keeva’s growing abilities whenever possible. Bane shot him a narrow-eyed look, but Barsad still let her go, sitting up as she crawled over to the other side of the couch, kneeling at his side. “Can I, please?” she asked.
“You’ve certainly proved that you are able to do so, yes,” he said evenly. Keeva blinked and Barsad snorted. She was still taking a bit of time to recognize Bane’s rare joking moments. He’d admit he found her attractive when she pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips.
“May I?” she said again, voice dripping sarcasm.
Reaching out, Bane cupped the back of her neck, massaging his fingers through the short hairs there. “You’ve been training all day.”
“That just means I’m getting stronger,” Keeva said, even as her eyes drifted shut and she let out a pleased sigh. “Doesn’t matter how much you pet me. I still want to help.” Her eyes opened when his thumb drifted across her lips. “Please, Bane?”
He had never spoken the thought aloud, but he liked it when she said his name. When she and Barsad said it, it was just a name, just him. It wasn’t a gasp of terror, a whisper to inspire fear or compliance. It was easy to draw Keeva into his lap, even as her weight was shifting more towards toned muscle. Barsad was already moving, laying himself against Bane’s side. Keeva hid her face in Bane’s chest, almost feeling as if she were intruding on some intimate moment between them.
There was so much love there, you’d have to be blind to miss it. But she knew they didn’t always show it. They never acted like this in front of others, maintaining the illusion a commander and a trusted soldier. She didn’t have the courage to wonder what it meant that they showed such things in front of her. A rumbling sigh cut through her thoughts, and she looked up, pausing a moment to admire just how blue Bane’s eyes were.
“If you feel you must,” he said with a gentle incline of his head. Her genuine smile tugged at him; it was somehow still so innocent and kind.
“Thank you.” Her warm hands cupped the back of his neck, her eyes falling closed. In the same moment, Bane watched Barsad wrap an arm around her, as if to steady her for the pain she always took into herself. As the pain flowed away from him, Bane cupped the back of Keeva’s head, feeling her shake and suck in a trembling breath. It never seemed to get easier for her, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. And, like every other time, she looked up at him once her pain had faded and asked, “better?”
Ducking down, Bane bumped his forehead against hers. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve her, to deserve something so soft. Turning, he caught Barsad’s eye, and the question repeated in his mind. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Better.” She seemed content to return her head to his chest, breathing in deeply. She might not say it, but he could tell she liked the way he smelled. He looked at Barsad, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “What were you reading today?” he asked, threading his fingers through Keeva’s hair, making her hum and snuggle closer.
“Old manual,” Barsad said, not drawing away from them and instead gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.
Keeva opened her mouth to say something, when a muffled ‘boom’ sounded in the distance. Her relaxation vanished in an instant, making her sit up straight and try to rise. Bane pinned her with an arm around her waist. “Fireworks,” he said simply, enjoying the look of confusion on the young woman’s face. “Some few citizens are intent on celebrating the New Year. I see little harm in letting them.”
Blinking in confusion, Keeva looked around, as if for a calendar to confirm his words. But even if there was, she hadn’t been paying attention to the date since the opening of Blackgate Prison, too concerned with her dogs for anything else. “Oh,” she finally said, slumping back. “Guess I missed Christmas.”
“Did you celebrate before?” Barsad asked casually. Bane knew there was still an old Star of David charm buried in Barsad’s few remaining personal things.
“I cooked Piper a fancy meal with steak and sweet potatoes, and I baked cookies for everyone at work,” she said with a shrug. “That’s about it. Stopped going to Christmas Mass after mom and dad died.” She shrugged. “New Years was just getting drunk at home until I stopped drinking.”
Despite how she played it off, Bane and Barsad could see the wistfulness in her. There was no pain to it, just the sweetness of the past, distant and soft. Good memories were often softened with time. It would feel silly to say, ‘happy new year’. It would have been too normal, and so removed from the life they were living. Celebrating the completion of the Earth’s rotation around the sun, when that rotation wasn’t particularly meaningful was just… well, silly.
All the same, Bane tilted her head back up with fingers under her chin, tracing his thumb across her lips. The calloused pad pressed gently, and Keeva met Bane’s eyes. They were… soft. Her chest tightened, not sure what to do with such tenderness. It was a kiss, she realized, the only way that Bane could give them. His eyes slid from hers, and out of the corner of her vision, she saw him do the same to Barsad.
In that moment, she felt profoundly unworthy. Barsad had been with Bane for years, earning his trust through blood, sweat, and tears. She had just popped up and suddenly here she was, curled in his lap, wrapped up in his warmth and strength. Barsad was smiling, and nuzzled into the touch, humming happily. Bane’s hand left his mouth to stroke through his hair. The tightness became an ache and Keeva ducked her head away, nuzzling into his palm before returning to his chest.
It certainly wasn’t the worst New Year’s she’d ever had.