Chapter Text
Illuso could feel his whole body shaking as he woke up, sweat making his hair stick to his neck and forehead. Crying was out of the window at this point in his life- he never liked showing that much weakness. But a little part of him almost made him want to. To give into the tiny ache in his chest and the knot in his throat. He supposed no one would know- he always slept in the mirror world. But he decided against it, swinging his legs out of bed and taking slow steps to the ornate mirror that adorned his wall. He felt the slight pressure of Man in the Mirror's hands on his shoulders, and as he placed his hand on the mirror, it slipped through like it was just water. Then he was on the other side, and pushing his feet into a pair of slippers. Formaggio always made fun of him for keeping them in front of the mirror, but it was practical. He didn't really use them in the mirror world, since the smooth wood of the floor in there wasn't ever cold.
He found himself going to Melone's room, knowing the man would probably still be awake. He considered knocking, but he found his hands shaking too bad to even want to close into a fist. It reminded him too much of the way he gripped that mirror in his hand. He had to shake his hand a little to rid himself of the phantom warm feeling of blood coating his fingers.
Illuso opened it hesitantly, poking his head in the room. And he was right- Melone was awake, and tapping away at a laptop. Notably, it was his normal one, not the freaky one he had as his stand. Baby Face was....odd, to put it nicely. But he came inside anywas, shutting the door with a quiet click. And he pushed some of his hair back with a shaky hand, trying to seem composed.
It didn't fool Melone.
"Nightmare about your mom again?" Melone spoke quietly as he cleared off the various little candy wrappers and wax paper that had to be from the deli sandwiches Ghiaccio always brought him.
"Maybe. What time is it?" Illuso took up a spot next to him once a space was clear, trying to tuck himself underneath his arm.
"Risotto is better for the whole 'hide under an arm and cope' thing, y'know. Mine are too small. And it's just past midnight." Melone still let him though, settling his arm over Illuso. He had to squint at his computer screen to confirm the time.
Illuso sighed at that. He appreciated the silent comfort of Risotto's company, but tonight, he just wanted Melone's bright screens and the soft crinkles from when those wrappers were jostled by their movements or blown by the fan Melone ran almost constantly. He wanted the warm glow of the heat lamp from Motherboard's tank.
"I don't want Risotto tonight." Illuso admitted it quietly, staring at the article Melone was reading. Something on coral reef preservation. Nothing he was interested in.
"I'm touched. Anything I can do?" His hand found its way into Illuso's hair, combing through it gently and occasionally scratching his nails over his scalp.
Illuso sighed again as he did. He wasn't sure if there was anything Melone really could do. Spilling his guts to the man wasn't something he was really comfortable with- he didn't like doing that with any of his partners. He liked keeping it to himself. They knew what had happened to cause them, but....talking regularly about reoccurring nightmares wasn't something he enjoyed doing.
"Keep doing that. I just dont feel like being alone." Illuso was still quiet as he spoke, his eyes dancing over the screen.
Illuso actually found himself occasionally skimming over the articles Melone kept switching between. They were all informational- mostly centering around new advances in medicine and body discoveries, but the occasional article on animal life would pop up. He supposed it was better then the brain-rotting bullshit Formaggio would no doubt be doing on his computer at this hours. And as he listened to the quiet purr of Melone's computer, accompanied by the rumble of his fan, Illuso felt strangely at ease.
It was weird. Normally, Illuso loved silence. He loved to have his peace and quiet, for whatever he was doing- be it something like his hair, or some sort of hit. He supposed it was a big reason he stayed in the mirror world a lot, it was always quiet there. But on nights like these, when he swore he could still see the blood under his nails and feel it on his face...he appreciated the company.
Illuso's eyes were just drifting closed when a bed ruffled Risotto came into the room, having to duck slightly to get in the door. The door frames in this house were always just a little too short for for him. Worry seemed to very, very slightly crease his face. What could be wrong?
There was a blanket thrown over his shoulders, and he squinted into the room as he scratched his head. Whatever concern that had made him suddenly come into the bedroom seemed to leave him when he saw them together, though.
Melone glanced up from his screen when he heard the door open, and he hummed when he saw it was Risotto.
"Is my room the communal bedroom now? What brings you here, Risotto? You normally sleep like a log." His eyes went back down to his laptop when he started speaking.
"I heard another heartbeat when I got up for water. Illuso doesn't normally come out at night." He pulled the blanket with him as he stepped into the room, careful of the trail he had before he shut the door.
"Forgot Metallica could do that. Sorry." Illuso's voice came out as a muffled grumble, half of his face pressed into Melone's thigh.
"You're gonna drool on my lap if you talk like that. Get up so I can make room for Riso." Melone pat Illuso's back, wriggling a bit to encourage him.
Illuso rolled off his leg, and Melone just stood up. It confused Illuso at first, until Risotto made his way over and sat down. Melone sat on his lap, which meant Illuso was able to plunk his head back down on Melone's thigh, and aimlessly stare at his screen. He let out his first content sigh of the night, when Risotto settled an arm over him.
And it all made Illuso think. Maybe he did like noise more than he thought he did. When it came to his lovers, that is.