Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So, this is what it’s like to be in love?

Grimm was sweating and shaking, his heart fluttering out of his chest, but he straightened his spine and sat up straight on his barstool, trying his best to channel his usual intimidating aura of mystique but this beautiful boy was breaking down all his defenses in the best fucking way possible and he didn’t even know his damn name!

“Are you feeling well?” He spoke, violently dragging Grimm out of his own thoughts as he returned to the present, flooded with cacophony and the earthy scent of wooden furniture mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol.

“I’m just fine…”

Shit shit shit I don’t know his name Gods I’m so bad at this whole flirting thing it’s awful awful AWFUL!

“...I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.” He finished his sentence.

“...Brumm. I’m Brumm. And yours?”

“I’m Grimm. Of the Grimm Troupe variety. I’m a bit of a celebrity, I’m not sure if you know.” His voice cracked slightly. That’s probably the stupidest fucking thing I could’ve said.

“You’re shaking.” Brumm took his hand.

“Am I?” Lightheadedness seized him and he almost tipped over and came crashing down from the barstool. He gripped his drink with an iron fist and sipped it, trying his hardest not to spill it as he barely was able to raise the glass to his mouth. The fiery alcohol quells the shakes for a moment, long enough for him to think it’s safe to stand up to clear his head. The chatter of the crowded bar drowns under licks of darkness that creep up from his peripherals. His body feels like it’s burning and freezing at the same time and his joints seem to liquefy.

He was out before he hit the floor.

He woke up, maskless, with a pounding headache and sore spot on his side, with some kind of blanket over him, and something tucked beside his head. Gods, did that really happen? Feels like a damn nightmare.

“I guess you could say I knocked you off your feet.” Grimm heard Brumm’s voice. He must’ve brought him here. So, that all did happen. “Sorry, that was bad,” he continued. “ I should really be asking you if you’re okay. So… are you?”

“My head feels like it’s full of bees.” Grimm grumbled.

“I made you some lifeblood tea, if you’re feeling up to it. You’re probably a bit hungover too.” Brumm stroked the side of his face with his hand. 

“Mm, just a little bit for now.” Grimm mumbled. He was slightly nauseous, not sure if he’d be able to stomach a whole cup of tea at the moment. But the boy he’d fallen head over heels for- literally- in the bar last night was making him tea, and gods he just had to say yes.

He slowly shifted onto his side and saw what had been beside his head- a rose, trimmed of its thorns so as to not stick him in his sleep. He held it to his chest while his other hand fumbled for his mask- most of the troupe had never seen him without his mask, and Brumm, despite his charms, was still someone he barely knew. Sure, Brumm had already seen his face without the mask, but keeping it over his face provided him with a shroud of security. It was what distinguished Troupe Master Grimm from just Grimm.

“Here you go.” Brumm set the tea and saucer in Grimm’s lap. Its warmth spread over his skin as he picked it up taking a small sip. Instantly, the headache began to melt away, warmth spreading to his limbs as he set the steaming blue tea back onto the saucer.

Brumm leaned over to him. “Starting to feel better?”

Grimm was seized with a compulsion that caused them to lean forward and headbutt Brumm’s chest, burying his face into the fabric of his shirt. He didn't think to protect his lifeblood tea, as it spilled all over his lap. 

He didn’t know what to do but laugh nervously.

“Gods, you’re a mess.” Brumm laughed, extending a hand to Grimm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Grimm took his hand and pulled himself up out of bed, kicking aside the damp sheets. He kept a firm clutch on the rose as he walked with Brumm.

“Either you could clean up in the bathtub in my house that’s way too small and always cold, or we could walk a bit to the hot spring.” Brumm said.

“The hot spring sounds a bit more romantic, don’t you think?” Grimm replied.

The hot water creeps up his legs as he strides deeper into the water until it is up to his shoulders. He didn’t realize how much he needed it until he felt an almost violent wave of healing envelop his body, with such a force that it sent him plunging in a faint into the water.

The hard splash startled Brumm as he quickly caught on to what had just happened.

“Gods, not again.” He dove under the water and fished Grimm out, who had been rendered a sad, soggy, lanky troupe master. He stirred awake after a few seconds, clearly embarrassed.

“So are you capable of walking or are you just gonna pass out on me again?” Brumm said.

“It’s been a long day.” Grimm replied, exhausted. He retrieved the rose, which was planted like a flag in the sand on the shore.

He fumbled with the stem in his fingers. Thornless.

Chapter Text

“Fuck you, I’m leaving this damn troupe! I’ve been nothing but generous to you ever since we first met and what have you done? Walk all over me!” Brumm threw his mask off with such a force that it split in two on the dirt floor. “It’s always about you! You made me think I loved you, damn it, and you used me for your fucking sacrificial cult!”
“Don’t do this to me, I swear, I’ll be better, you’re the only person I fucking care about!” Grimm screamed.
“Tell that to the rest of the troupe. See how they fucking feel about it. I’m done.”
But Brumm didn’t walk away. He just stood there.
Grimm’s body was overtaken with tremors as an invisible fist crushed their throat, while another phantom hand cut their heartstrings with a blade. He couldn’t breathe. He was drowning in his own body.
Brumm stayed put.
Grimm fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
When he woke up, he noticed two things. One, Brumm was gone, the shards of his mask still lying on the ground in front of him. Two, something was stabbing at his side.
A rose. Thorns and all.