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Emotions were a luxury to have during war. If one cared too much, their heart would shatter at the feather-like touch of bad news; and it was even worse if they had someone they cared about. If one cared too little, or not at all, then nothing phased them. Nothing, not even the death of a comrade in arms or a loved one. Nnoitra tried to drill that notion into him throughout their time together, both on and off the battlefield.
He’d mumble that Tesla wasn’t allowed to love him between kisses. He’d laugh if Tesla showed a semblance of emotion. At first, Tesla thought it strange, thought that Nnoitra just pushed away all affection to protect himself from the fear and anguish of a loss. Now, however, Tesla knew better. It wasn’t to protect himself, it was to protect Tesla from the outcome of his death.
Tesla remembered shaking violently as he watched Nnoitra bleed out on the ground after a harsh battle. Pride and spirit wounded, Nnoitra yelled for Tesla to stay back. To run. To leave him there as he faded into the grounds of Hueco Mundo. Tesla remembered joining him, choosing to go out in a blaze of glory with his beloved lover and lord. Apathy be damned, Tesla decided to die with him that night.
Only that wasn’t what happened.
As the blacks of the world consumed Tesla’s vision, he reached out for Nnoitra’s hand and tried to hold onto that last thread of consciousness. He’d thought being a fraccione was a gracious second chance at life; he cherished every second serving under Nnoitra and, if this was the finale, then he was glad he shared it with him. He smiled, cold and fading, but full of no regrets, and then he heard it.
“Oi, grab those two! They’re not dead!” Those words echoed in the air before finally, the end welcomed Tesla in its embrace.
Years later, Tesla wakes up alone in bed. The room is cool, the fan in the corner blowing air in varying directions, and he can hear chatter coming from another room. It’s easy to pinpoint Nnoitra’s loud voice even when he’s trying to be quiet. He smiles to himself, rolling over and grabbing a different pillow- one belonging to neither him nor Nnoitra- and brings it to his face.
Rojuro Otoribashi, Rose for short, was an angel of death in Tesla’s mind. Beautiful, laid back, and deadly on the battlefield. As a vizard, his obligation to save Nnoitra and Tesla back in Hueco Mundo was closer to zero than one hundred, and yet years later the three of them are in a relationship. Tesla would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t remember every detail leading up to their romantic life; he would be lying even more if he said it was never going to happen.
The perfect antithesis to Nnoitra, Rose cared more for his team, friends, and family more than the renowned ‘emotionless,’ espada. While his expression is bored most of the time, Tesla knows that Rose can see through anyone and he observes what makes people happy. He was the one who, slowly but surely, taught both Nnoitra and Tesla that it was okay to show their emotions outwardly. Those emotions were no longer a luxury, but a given.
Their first fight had Nnoitra on his ass as he glowered at the music lover. Rose had simply grinned and held out his hand to help Nnoitra to his feet- hadn’t even budged when Nnoitra tried to throw him over his shoulder. That display had given Tesla all the reason he needed to respect and admire Rose. Anyone who wasn’t afraid of Nnoitra and wanted to get to know everything past those angry walls that Nnoitra built around himself was worthy in Tesla’s book.
And though he knows the moment was different for Nnoitra, Tesla also remembers when he first truly felt love for the vizard. It had been when Rose sat him down and played him a song on his guitar. Rose had improvised some song about taking in stray cats and raising them. When Tesla theorized the song was about him and Nnoitra, Rose had snorted and said it was a secret. Tesla knew nothing about music then, but now he knows how to read sheet music and strum at least a major chord. He will never forget how beautiful Rose sounded.
Or how beautiful he sounds now.
“You’re going to wake Tesla,” comes Nnoitra’s not-so-quiet growl from the living room.
“No doubt he’s already awake, having to listen to you grumbling as I do your hair.” Rose’s voice is gentle in contrast to Nnoitra’s. It makes the room feel much warmer to Tesla than it actually is.
He tunes out the rest of the conversation, finally letting go of Rose’s pillow and lifting himself to sit up. Rose is doing Nnoitra’s hair? The thought amuses Tesla to no end. For a second, he is tempted to stay in the room and let it be a surprise; but he also does not want to miss a chance seeing Rose and Nnoitra being domestic and soft with each other.
Tesla rolls out of bed and stretches, keeping his yawn quiet so the others don’t call for him. He rolls his eyes at the mess on the floor. It’s no longer his job to clean up after anyone but living with two ridiculous messes of affectionate makes him want to. He won’t though. He is not their maid and they would get mad at him if he assumed that position anyway.
So instead Tesla walks over to the giant walk-in closet and searches for something to wear. This closet is full of colors, nothing at all like the white and black and gray shades that were the norm for Hueco Mundo. Clothes of all shapes and sizes fill it, organized by who wears them, but Tesla ignores that part as he bypasses his section in favor of grabbing a cardigan from Rose’s corner. He hums, putting it on, glancing at himself briefly to admire the light blue color on him before he grabs a pair of joggers. There’s no plan to leave the house he assumes, so there’s no need to dress up for anything fancy.
Stepping close to the wall mirror, Tesla grabs the black eye patch hanging off of its side. He fastens it carefully over his right eye, blinking from the difference in vision. The weight brings a comforting satisfaction to him as he finalizes his outfit for the day.
He slips out of the bedroom, catching a faint, “He’s awake now,” from one of his boyfriends before he opens the bathroom door. He does not take his time as he combs his hair over and brushes his teeth. He rushes the process, finally feeling an eager sense to see what Rose has done to Nnoitra’s hair. Besides, he’s made the two of them wait long enough.
“Hello sunshine,” Rose greets as he does every morning. He stands behind a dark wooden chair, a silk robe hung open around his shoulders as he pulls back Nnoitra’s long hair with one hand. If Tesla looks close enough he can see Rose’s matching silk pants behind the chair. He doesn’t question where Rose’s shirt is, not wanting to miss the chance to admire Rose’s muscles.
Nnoitra’s greeting is not as soft, but more subtle. His eye sparks in a way it only does for Tesla and the corners of his lips curl upward. “Tesla,” he says. One word that speaks hundreds of lines of poetry.
Today Nnoitra is not wearing his eyepatch, showing off his hollow hole almost proudly. He’s wearing a tank top with some Earthian band on it called The Rasmus. His sweatpants are a plain gray, stopping toward the middle of his calf- clearly Rose’s sweats rather than his own. Tesla drinks in the sight of him, casual and not at war with whether he should be on guard or not.
The two of them together are beautiful, picturesque, and Tesla wants to cherish the memory. “Why are we doing Nnoitra’s hair?” He asks with a soft laugh, coming further into the room. He stops just next to Nnoitra’s chair, leaning down to kiss his forehead despite the daring look Rose is giving him for pausing his hairdressing skills. He makes it up to Rose by righting himself and kissing Rose’s cheek. Then he places himself on the couch, curling his feet under him and watching the two.
Casual intimacy is something the three of them fell into easily considering Nnoitra and Tesla’s background and Rose’s past. Nnoitra doesn’t even flinch at Tesla’s kissing anymore, and Rose always smiles like it's a gift rather than an everyday occurrence. It’s one of the things he loves the most about the two of them.
Nnoitra leans back in his chair, tilting his head along with Rose’s calculative movements. “Something about how he misses his long hair.”
“No,” Rose corrects with a snort. “Nnoi said I could play with it.” Then, before Nnoitra could protest, Rose pinned a chunk of hair to the top of Nnoitra’s head. Then he brought his brush up to the underside of Nnoitra’s hair. “Isn’t he sweet?”
Tesla watches Nnoitra roll his eyes and stifles a laugh. “We should grow our hair out, Rose.” He fondly remembers how long Rose’s hair used to be before he cut it and became a captain, again, for the Gotei 13.
Rose hums in acknowledgment, sticking out his tongue as he fights with a tangle that refuses to come undone. Then he says, “Make Nnoitra style his hair for once.”
That drags a real, genuine laugh out of Tesla. It’s true, both he and Rose tend to do Nnoitra’s hair for him. Not out of obligation, but out of a soft show of affection. Tesla likes it because Nnoitra often falls asleep to the feeling of fingers in his hair; he knows Rose likes it for that very same reason. They both know Nnoitra is perfectly capable of doing it himself too.
“You broke him,” Nnoitra deadpans. “I could kick your ass.” There is no venom whatsoever in his tone.
“I could never break our Tesla,” Rose replies.
Overwhelming fondness washes over him as he calms down. The corner of his eye is wet and Tesla wipes it with one finger, unable to hold his grin down. These two used to have nothing in common and now here they are, bantering like they’ve been married for years. Truly Tesla cannot pick better partners than the two of them and the heart that stopped beating inside him so long ago, for just a second, flickers with love.
“Do a braid,” he offers finally. His grin widens when Rose winks at him and Nnoitra huffs. That was the plan all along, then, and Tesla already knows the outcome. He likes Nnoitra wide a side braid, the rest of his hair hanging low along his back. “It’ll be cute,” he adds. Nnoitra mumbles something about how he is always cute that makes Rose snort and stop his hands because he hadn’t expected it. Tesla feels himself sink further into the couch, observing their profiles as they banter back and forth.
Their voices are comforting enough that Tesla knows he could fall back asleep if he wants, but where would the fun be in that? Who else would laugh at Rose teasing Nnoitra and Nnoitra pretending it’s actually annoying him. “How long have you two been up?” He asks, tilting his head in curiosity.
“Hours,” Nnoitra complains. “Mr. Captain here had a meeting and woke me up when he left. I couldn’t fall back asleep.” He grumbles something under his breath.
Rose shakes his head, finally unclasping Nnoitra’s hair before pulling all of it in his hands and tilting Nnoitra’s to the side. “He almost came with me but didn’t want you to wake up with us both missing. I got home a little bit ago, though, and I’ve been keeping him company.” He gestures to something on the couch. “Hand me that?”
Wondering how he missed the hair ties, Tesla picks up a black band and hands it to Rose. “You could have woken me up,” he addresses Nnoitra.
“Your days of waking up before sunrise are over,” Nnoitra replies simply with the turn of his head. Very few people would know the meaning behind Nnoitra’s words, but both Tesla and Rose do. For the first few months they lived with the vizards, Tesla would wake up from nightmares nightly. It has taken quite a bit of growth to stop feeling guilty for surviving.
“Stop moving,” Rose chides Nnoitra. “Tomorrow we can go on a morning walk.” He resolves the issue before it even has a chance to be an issue. He always does things like this, finding a compromise toward peace before anything else. It always comforts Tesla.
For a while after that, the three of them fall into a comfortable silence. Occasionally Rose finishes Nnoitra’s hair but decides the style isn’t working out and starts over. Nnoitra grumbles, Rose laughs at him, and Tesla eventually stands up to stretch before he does fall back asleep. “How about we have a movie day?” Rose clearly doesn’t have any more shinigami duties to do or else he wouldn’t be home, and Nnoitra is a step away from being a bored housewife.
Rather than waiting for their responses, Tesla starts toward the kitchen. Maybe he’ll brew some coffee too, and grab some fruit while he’s at it. They can make popcorn in a little bit when they pick out a movie to sit through and make commentary. That might be Tesla’s favorite thing about Sereitai. Movies. Movies were another luxury, and often nonexistent, in Hueco Mundo. Shortly after he begins pouring mugs for Nnoitra and Rose, Tesla looks up to see the aforementioned boyfriends walking into the kitchen.
Rose is a good foot shorter than Nnnoitra and his hair is now pulled back into a ponytail, only barely matching Nnoitra’s hair. “He won’t let me dye his hair.” He says the words so innocently like Nnoitra wasn’t glaring down at him. “Imagine how cute he would look with blond hair.”
“No,” Tesla says with a laugh and a shake of his head. Then before Nnoitra can laugh at Rose for Tesla disagreeing with him, Tesla adds, “I draw the line there, I love his hair as is.”
“Good. At least someone in this household has taste.” Nnoitra crosses his arms and lets out a ‘humph.’ Then he walks the rest of the way to Tesla and leans down, pulling him into a proper kiss from earlier. “If he dyes my hair, I have permission to kill him, right?” He mumbles the question against Tesla’s lips.
“I thought we were past killing people?” Tesla doesn’t even humor Nnoitra before he pulls away and hands him a cup of coffee. “Please don’t kill our boyfriend.”
“If you insist.” Nnoitra actually smiles before he takes the coffee to the table. “You live another day, Rose. Tesla said so.”
Rose’s laugh carries throughout the room. “I love you too, Nnoitra.”
There it is. Love. The most luxurious emotion of them all. The mere mention of it sends shivers down Tesla’s spine and butterflies into his stomach. He wasn’t allowed to love Nnoitra, let alone someone else, back in Hueco Mundo but things are different. He can love and speak the simple word into the air without fear of rejection or punishment. And judging by the way Nnoitra stops and his cheeks flush red, he is thinking the same thing as Tesla right now.
“I love you too.” The words are a whisper- like a phrase from a foreign vocabulary. Nnoitra does not feel embarrassed, but if he did, Tesla knows he would hide his face if he did.
Tesla brings over Rose’s coffee to him and then sits in between him and Nnoitra, smiling in the quiet moment between them. He does not need to ask if their love includes him, because if there is anything he knows for sure it is that Rose and Nnoitra think the world of him.