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Eastern wizards lived by routine; lived by their boundaries. In no case was this more evident than in Faust, and in the careful dance he and Nero had been engaged in these past months, slowly and tentatively insinuating themselves into each other’s lives. It was a delicate procedure, but the journey felt to them as tantalizing as the destination, albeit more nerve-wracking. This journey had tonight brought Nero to Faust’s bedroom, a bottle of liquor and glasses in hand, eager to end the day with the one he’d come to love.
He was quickly invited in, with a warm smile that Nero noted had only been getting more familiar in recent weeks. Nero and Faust soon sat comfortably in the small loveseat in Faust’s bedroom, Nero’s arm wrapped loosely and affectionately around Faust’s shoulders as they drank together, laughed together. He could feel their legs touching as warmth spread through both of them, as much from each other’s company as from the drink itself.
But there was something different about Faust tonight. Whether he hadn’t eaten enough, or whether he’d been too tired already by the time Nero had arrived, Nero could tell that Faust was drifting off — his voice softening, his body relaxing within his loose grasp, his eyelids growing noticeably heavier even through his glasses. Nero knew better than to hope this would be the night — the night when Faust would open that next door to him, let him stay the night and share in that secret burden of his; to see those parts of Faust that disgusted him most, and love him anyway. He knew better, but the thought nagged at him all the same as he fell into a comfortable silence, gently leaning his head on Faust’s shoulder.
Long peaceful moments passed between them like this, Nero’s thumb idly drawing circles on Faust’s shoulder while they leaned into each other, one of Faust’s hands tentatively at rest on Nero’s leg. But Nero’s wish came true too soon; and in the worst way it could have.
Without warning, the room around them burst into flames, and Nero jolted to his feet in a panic, immediately waking Faust, and watching those same flames vanish from sight as if they’d never existed. He looked down at Faust, who seemed as horrified as he himself had just been. “Are you okay, Teach?” Nero quickly sat back down and put his arm back around him.
“I’m fine,” Faust responded curtly, before wincing at his tone. “I… Must have drank too much and fallen asleep for a moment. Like some old man,” he spat the last part out bitterly. Faust was silent for a long moment, eyes fixed on his legs, his hands bunched up in the fabric covering them. Just as Nero opened his mouth to speak, Faust continued. “... I should probably sleep. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Faust… I guess that’s — I mean… Y’know, your whole…” Nero knew all too well he’d learned far more than he was supposed to know; the only thing that remained uncertain was how much more he could find out.
“Yes.” Faust stood and walked towards the door, clearly expecting Nero to do the same. Nero obliged, pulling Faust into his arms as they stood at the doorway. “... Nero. I… need to spend the night alone again. But I’m not keeping you out anymore. You’re seen too much, and now I’m getting selfish. What you saw wasn’t real fire, so I’ll be fine. And if you come back tomorrow… I’ll explain everything to you.”
Nero held Faust tighter. “You’re gonna be okay tonight then?” Nero paused, considering his words. Nero chuckled nervously. “I’m gonna be thinking about this all night.” I don’t want to leave you alone like this anymore. Faust looked up at him, regret palpable in his gaze. “Right, sorry.” Nero disentangled himself from Faust, stepping back slightly. “Faust…” Nero brought a hand to Faust’s cheek, and Faust nestled his cheek into the welcome contact as Nero pulled them together, placing a gentle kiss on Faust’s lips, fleeting, but conveying everything it needed to. “I will come back tomorrow. And… No matter what you tell me, I’ll come back the next day too.” Nero immediately felt a blush rise to his cheeks at the words that had just left his mouth, and his hand instinctively rose to scratch nervously at the back of his neck. “Ah, sorry, that’s kinda —”
“No, I know you will, Nero.” Faust smiled up at him, a mix of sadness and resoluteness in his expression. Faust brought a hand to Nero’s shoulder and kissed him back, all too aware of the danger — that he might not be able to let Nero go after all — but pulled back safely after a long moment. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I’ll be waiting too. My door’s always open.”
Nero nodded, and turned the door handle. “Good night, Teach,” Nero said with a smile. “I’ll see you soon.”