Work Text:
It felt like he was in a dream as he slowly stepped out into the misty forest. The sun had yet to peak over the horizon but light still found its way to bounce around the clouds above, softly illuminating the branches overhead a baby blue shifting into a warm pink. His eyes were well adjusted to such darkness from being deep underground for a solid month, and every step felt different coming into contact with lush grass rather than rocky soil he’s grown to get used to.
The light breeze rustled the trees like a whisper and in the distance doves cooed their morning song, dead leaves crunched from under and he could hear a few deer scamper off at the sound of his footsteps. Noise was new to him, that was for sure, being on topsoil was far different from being underground listening to the continuous echo of water drops hitting rock, but so far nothing sounded out of place just of yet and that was the way Wilbur liked it.
He was nearing the clearing that was just up ahead and his hand absentmindedly fell to the handle of his axe. He knew what he was in for, it’s been the second time this month visiting, and he was never the man unprepared for the unpredictable. He started trekking up the steep hill to reach his destination, he liked to think he was there for a reason.
He stopped in his tracks the moment he connected eyes with his expected guest on top of the hill, the other man’s silhouette dark and distinct leaned up against a large oak tree. A cigar at hand, white smoke billowing from his nostrils, and his eyes having this unsettling red glow that Wilbur always felt had malevolent intent stared right through his soul. His grip on his axe only tightened.
“You won’t have to use that.” Schlatt spoke calmly, bringing his cigar back to his lips, puffing on it before letting his arm rest again.
“One can never be too careful, hm?” Wilbur muttered, continuing to stand on the other side of the clearing. “Why have you brought me out here, second time this month’s a lil’ too fucking risky, innit?”
There was a long pause, the longest they ever had been silent with each other after these painstaking weeks of meeting in secret. The grip on his axe stayed solid every time the cigar met his lips. Schlatt readjusted himself, his hooves almost silent against the dried leaves below, and now he was fully facing Wilbur. Both sets of eyes narrowed back at each other before he leaned comfortably against the same tree as before.
“Company.” He answered, never moving as the thin line of smoke rose from the cigar between his fingers. “I just wanted an ear or two. Ended up being you.”
Wilbur felt his eye twitch, his nose scrunch up and then relax, only to scrunch up again. He wiped it with his sleeve after a harsh sniff before taking a brief moment to collect his thoughts and tame his anger. He wanted to really say something, anything, give Schlatt a piece of his mind, but instead he settled on striding forward. The ground crunched unbearably loud beneath his boots on his way over to a tree adjacent to the other, leaning his whole body against it only to begin fumbling for something in his jacket pocket.
“Lighter.” Wil commanded when his fingers drew out a cigarette he had rolled earlier back in the ravine.
With a second of hesitation Schlatt’s hand dripped into his suit, withdrawing the golden zippo, flicking it to life under the butt of Wilbur’s cig. The flame danced around the tip and quickly engulfed it into a glowing crimson color, and once he was certain it was lit to perfection he returned the lighter back to where it came from.
The two were in silence, merely exchanging glances with each other every drag and exhale, smoke swirling together and dissipating into the mist that surrounded them. It took some time before another conversation was held, but out of the two Wilbur was the first to speak up. Something that was fairly uncommon during these meetings.
“How has it been?” His voice already had a hoarse tang to it.
“There’s been some construction, a site for a new building of mine.” He could see the rather stern look in Wilbur’s eyes, making him scoff and chuckle. “Don't worry, it was an empty lot. Nothing of yours has been touched...”
“My walls.” He snorted, taking another drag from his cigarette.
Schlatt sighed, head tilted slightly downward. “Yeah... the walls...”
Schlatt’s eyes stung and shut the moment hot smoke met his cheeks, courtesy of Wilbur blowing it right into his direction and landing on its target, his lips were thin as a line and his eyes opened just to be narrowed up at the man.
Schlatt finally took the time to look at Wilbur.
Dark circles settled under the man’s eyes, all due to the wear and tear of many sleepless nights and his face was almost as white as snow from the lack of much needed sunlight. Even wrinkles that form with age were present ten years early upon the taller man’s face, making Schlatt snicker and thankful for the many expensive creams he applies to his own.
“You look terrible.” He felt his smile widen.
“You look stuck up your own arse.” Wil bounced back, snickering at such a remark.
Schlatt snorted in response, his demeanor relaxing as well as Wilbur’s when the lad had a laugh at his own comeback. He hated to admit it, but he missed the way Wilbur spoke to him during his long weeks away up in Manburg. The two shared a past, a childhood of sorts, a close knit friendship that fell apart with time. It was neither of their faults, Schlatt found his own crowd, Wilbur found his. Wilbur moved away, Schlatt forgot to ask if he could write to him. So stupid , he used to feel. But the memories of Wilbur fell away until the very day he saw him , his old friend up at the podium, and the memories only flooded back like a deluge.
He was only there to achieve the great dream of his, rising to power like his ancestors and gaining control for the greater good. He had no idea he was to come face to face against the one he used to know. He couldn't let him ruin this, he spent years getting to where he was now, and when his name was called out as the elected president he decided exiling him would fix this problem. But it only made it worse.
“..At least I dont look like I just crawled out of a molehill.” His smile was still present. Wil’s eyes darted down into his.
“Fair enough.” Wilbur answered, looking away. “...How's the kid...”
“He’s got his own room now.” Schlatt looked off into the distance to where Wilbur was looking out to. Just the rolling hills with slight vegetation, and opaque silhouettes of civilization on the horizon. “He doesn’t say much, but he talks about you and him...”
Wilbur nodded, looking rather disconnected. “He misses him...”
Schlatt’s eyes quickly darted up at him and then back to the faraway buildings. “I’ll give myself another meeting then… And, I’ll be sure to change the guard’s schedule as well.”
“Thank you...” Wil’s eyelids flutter.
“This stays between us.” Schlatt’s hand extends wearily, his fingers wrapping gently around Wilbur’s wrist, meriting the other to roughly yank it away. He couldn't fully process why he had the desire to extend his hand out.
“Always-“ He scrunched up his nose and relaxed when Schlatt pulled away rather than continue his pursuit.
Wilbur swiftly stood up, leaning off of the tree to drop his cig and stomp it out, his hand now back on the handle of his axe when he turned his head towards the path leading back to his underground home. He started walking back into the woods, Schlatt staying in his same spot against the tree.
“Next week at sundown?” Schlatt spoke up.
“Yours, or mine?” Wil answered, stopping to look back at the man.
“Whatever makes you sane.” Schlatt softly grinned with a wink.
“Mine, then.” Wil gave a nod, facing away to look back into the woods, but he stayed standing still just in case any last words needed to be shared.
Schlatt leaned away from his tree, beginning to walk while dropping his finished cigar and stomping it out on his way over to Wilbur. His dark hooves agilely crunched against the grass and leaves, emitting less sound than Wilbur’s boots. One can see why Schlatt was always so good at sneaking away, no one ever heard him leaving the premises. Wilbur gripped the axe tighter when the man came to a halt directly behind him.
“It’s ok...” His hand gently met Wilbur’s back, the man stiffening up like a statue at such touch.
He began to rub his back soothingly, thumbing around his shoulder blades and spine the best he could through the thick dusty coat. His eyes were transfixed on his head, waiting for their eyes to meet again. But Wilbur did not move even a single muscle.
“I enjoy our time together.” Schlatt whispered as he continued, migrating down to his middle back.
“I don’t...” Wil whispered, turning his head around slowly to look down at the other. “...Why...”
“Why?” Schlatt lifted his brow, his hands still on the other but unmoving.
“...Why do… you even enjoy this…” Wilbur muttered. “You exile me… you see me every month… maybe just let me back into my own damn country if you “enjoy our time together”, hm-? This is all just some sort of sick, twisted game- yeah?” Wilbur nearly shouted the last sentence.
“It’s… much more complicated than that-” Schlatt spoke softly, his eyes on Wil’s and hands pulling away from his back. “... I never wanted any of this...”
Wilbur’s brows furrowed, now onto Schlatt’s intentions. “Then what kind of a game are you playing...”
He was facing him now, face to face with the businessman. He took a step forward, making Schlatt take a step back.
“Is this all just some fucking joke to you? I’m just another piece in your fucked game- Well, I’ll tell you something- I won’t play it.” Their faces were nearly inches from each other's, Wilbur’s features distorted with anger and Schlatt’s calm and collected demeanor deteriorating into sorrow.
“... You’ve changed so much…” Schlatt let out in whisper, staring right into Wilbur’s soul.
From the tone of voice and the change of atmosphere around those eyes, Wil felt himself backen off. His anger disappeared only to be replaced with confusion and denial. These eyes he’s grown used to, the darkness that resided in them, were now the same eyes he remembered back in his childhood. The same kid who skipped all the way over to his home just to show off his brand new budding horns, the same teen that fought off a pack of skeletons in order to protect Wilbur with his own life, the same person he remembers.
But, Wilbur knew that this man was no memory...
“And you did, too…” Wil’s eyes trailed down to the dead leaves around them, his stance idling.
You could hear the doves again, closer this time as light grew brighter around them. He could see the forest a bit better now, the deep pinks and oranges of light dancing through the leaves and onto the trunks of the trees. He could hear squirrels chasing each other overhead, the ambient rustling of the bushes in the breeze, the comforting sound of the overgrown forest at daybreak. Alive and always changing.
“... Remember our pond…” Schlatt broke him out of his trance.
“Ah… our first catch…” Wilbur looked back up, meeting those familiar, warm eyes that had yet to leave him.
“Yeah, my first salmon-“ Schlatt tenderly chuckled, hands resting comfortably in his pockets.
Wil snorted, giving off a genuine smile before frowning once before. “It was more like a guppy-“
“Shh- shhhh, yeah…” Schlatt’s fluffy ears twitched while forming a grin, making a mental note to never forget that smile, even though he saw it just for a second. “And remember when you fell in, cause you got so excited you’d be the next to catch one?”
“Hah….yeah……. Remember our shed?” Wilbur’s grip on his axe loosened.
“The lil’ shit house you made out of twigs? I couldn't believe it was still standing when I walked over that day! It was quite impressive…“
Schlatt remembered the construction well. It was originally going to be a treehouse, but Wilbur was so afraid of heights he opted out for a shed on the ground. Well, it was more like a small tent made out of twigs and bark leaning up against a tree rather than a “shed”.
“Oh come on, it was carefully crafted with the knowledge of a great builder-“ Wilbur raised his arms, posing as if he was someone grand giving a speech before a crowd. He did a twirl, coming back around to smile at the horned man.
“Not saying you aren't one-“ Schlatt smirked back, his hand playing with the zippo in his suit pocket.
They were close again, almost as close as they were when Wilbur screamed into his face moments before. He felt a familiar flame spark to life in his chest, the same feeling he felt when he first saw him up on the podium. That same flame he’s been trying to snuff out since… but it’s never been successfully distinguished.
A while ago, he came to the conclusion that he was just delaying the inevitable, always ignoring that nagging part of his mind and how his heart curned like a hearty furnace to the thoughts of Wilbur.
The memories he carried were nostalgic and warm, his feelings of the older lad in them felt the same. But now, with the same lad in front of him many years later, the feelings were different… felt different… felt brighter than before. Felt hotter. The sharp frame of his jawline and cheekbones were enticing, the slight stubble on his chin gave Schlatt butterflies. Wilbur’s aging done the lad right, a glow up from his quirky braced face Schlatt remembered well.
He never truly felt Wilbur was like a brother to him in their younger years, there was a short time he felt his heart flutter at every hug and his mind buzz with every glance the older boy gave him.
Some things never change, Schlatt thought. Even when I want them to.
And what happened next was a blur.
It was as if something else guided his hand. He could blame it on the few drinks he had that morning or maybe the bottled up complications he kept on his mental shelf. But, no matter how many excuses he made, there was no turning back now.
He felt the warmth of Wilbur’s breath against his cheeks, the feeling of his mouth agape and his chapped lips pressed to his own. He felt how ridgid Wil’s body became, now pressed up against each other while his fingers began to tangle in his dark locks causing the black beanie to fall to the ground.
Wilbur tasted of salted pork chops, starchy potatoes and slight coal soot while Schlatt was strong whiskey, overpowering and distinct. As quick as Wilbur’s ravine life tasted it was as quick to disappear. Wilbur roughly pulled away, eyes wide and his grip knuckle-white on the handle of his axe. It was out of its sheath now, it's dark purple blade catching the light of the blazing sun. His eyes were that of a trapped animal.
“What the fuck?” Wilbur’s rough voice rattled Schlatt’s heart in his ribcage. The older man’s eyes darted all over himself, looking for a possible wound or maybe some sort of syringe. Whatever was Schlatt’s intentions he had to know instantly, and had to be ready for them.
The businessman stood there, almost as dumbfounded as the other, but he promptly collected himself, standing tall and fixing his tie.
“I will see you next week.” Schlatt spoke as if nothing ever happened, but the red in his cheeks and his unleveled tone said otherwise.
“Don't you feed me that shit-“ Wilbur hissed. “You- you…” Wilbur was tense, his axe trembling in his grip and his eyes darting all around them before coming back to glare at the other. He had to be smart with his next words. “... I’m not falling for… for anything- You keep your promises for them to see each other… I will see you next week.”
“Done deal. I’m not planning on going back on my word.” The feeling of heartbreak was something new to him, the way the other threw him off, the look of hate in his eyes. Wilbur didn't trust him, Wilbur didn't believe the kiss was meaningful. Hopefully staying to his word would help him in the long haul.
Hopefully.
“Good.” Wilbur didn’t even loosen his grip on his axe, his body still ready to strike if need be.
This is all just a game, don’t fall into it.
“Good, good…” Schlatt was frowning, eyes elsewhere while he cautiously stepped away, facing the opposite direction. “... well, have a good day, Wilbur…”
Wilbur didn’t bother responding as he watched the other formally walk off and disappear into the thicket of the wood, making barely a sound as he retreated.
Wilbur made sure he wasn't followed that day.
Wilbur made sure to forget this meeting ever happened.