Archive of Our Own

Idia knew everybody would be overdressed for the reception. He knew it . He regrets sharing the thought with his baby brother, because then he had to explain it. Naturally, Ortho wasn't going to let him live it down - he contacted Vil-fucking-Schoenheit for his eXpErT oPiNiOn like it's nothing, and said Schoenheit pulled legitimate advice straight out of his ass. Drop the blues, go all black, yadda yadda. Well excuse him , Idia likes blue. Or is it just for camouflage? He can never tell. Although Vil played around Idia's PTSD of long coats by advising against them, he sent a few images from Spellpin of skin tight suits with double button closure and tall collars. Lo and behold, several days later arrived this creation Ortho's - bless and fuck his adaptive algorithms - and even Idia could see it was high fashion. A starry-eyed "Finally I get to make something for you!" was all it took for Idia to sigh and cave in. 

So he arrives at the reception, fashionably late and overdressed as everyone else, picking at his braided hair. Because he was the only Shroud bound to attend - he could not simply turn back as he did on the entrance ceremony - lest that merciless brother of his push him in, or talk other students into doing it for him again . It's not like it's prom today - it's just a stupid rehearsal, a reception to mark the end of the year, for those who won't be coming back to the classrooms. Third years, that is. There will be, in fact, a legitimate prom night and he will have a full year to either mentally prepare for it or perish - but extroverts apparently prefer their fancies and feuds fresh - and so he too, needs to make an appearance. He probably stands out less this way. Maybe. Hopefully.

Classical music, which is passable, plays for all the fine men and brutes present here, and the Mirror Hall is already full of people mingling. They call it a cocktail party and everyone is already of age to drink, but Idia immediately spots Crewel standing next to the main banquet table - probably the only one to contain alcohol - like a dog trainer prepping for an exhibition. Thanks to his upstanding behavior at home, he normally has access to whatever he wants - not that he needs it often, though, just for an occasional Isle holiday. Here and now though, it’s his one chance to speedrun the night. On one hand, it's not so bad that some of the more unhinged characters present are denied wreaking havoc all wasted, but on the other hand, if he himself was plastered, would it matter to him?

How Crowley decided to hold a reception of this type in the Mirror Hall and to decorate it this lavishly even in his cheapskate manner is beyond Idia, but then again - the Mirror itself might be enjoying this sight just as much as Crowley does his, no doubt larger, selection of drinks. 

Idia would normally encourage himself to breathe for brainpower, but the air is so full of perfume, cologne and underlying teen spirit that inhaling extras would probably make him barf. Under the guise of cleaning his nose off his hand, Idia draws in some of the sour, citrus smell off his own wrist and it brings him back to life. Because being seen cleaning snot is, of course, less damning than having to explain your taste in fragrances.

Now, to inspect the pickle he is in and assess his chances to not just stand stupidly at the front door.

Rook Hunt and his creepy entourage seems to have gathered around Vil in one corner. Leona in the other, probably asleep against the wall, for the best. Malleus' horns cruising farther in the room with Lilia in tow, certainly.

Black sure is extra popular, which scores him extra camo points. Then again, it's the college with the edgiest name out there. What did he even expect?

Idia's attention is diverted to the closest living opposite of black, Cater Diamond, sporting a white and salmon color plaid suit, accompanied by Hearts' benign vice, Trey Clover. It's a sorry combo in the form of him third-wheeling what looked like a couple even to him, but when Cater suddenly makes eye contact and runs off into the crowd with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm, Idia bites the chance to step into the company of the mildest person in sight. Even he is sometimes thankful for the existence of normies. Short on help from his tablet, he is now forced to make do with his own speech. 

"M-mister Trey. ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ~" 

Coming face to face with the guy, Idia realizes he is dressed nowhere near formal for what one would expect from a Heartslabyul officer, his burgundy shirt unbuttoned two steps down beneath a stylish black jacket. Then he remembered - there is no Riddle here, so his boring rules are probably out the window, even for him. Trey greets him with a smile. The dude may be mild, but something about him is pretty smooth. 

"Oh, Idia. Good to see you here. You look... Very classy."

He probably means it, but Idia’s urge to downplay the compliment is strong. 

"Y'mean, ᵖᵒᵐᵖᵒᵘˢ ᴬᶠ."

"Well, now..."

The two laugh. 

"Seriously, though. That getup looks good on you."

Idia has no time to thank him properly because Cater is suddenly back, with Vil Schoenheit no less, who enters like a diva in his perfectly modeled black combinaison followed by a long, open skirt. Its inner lining shimmers subtly as he greets Trey with a gentle nod. 

"Here, as promised. #spotted", smirks Cater, his clone patting Idia on the back out of nowhere. As if he knows he would gladly escape right now. No, he definitely knows. They had their fair share of clashes. Gingers truly have no soul.

"ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉˡˡ?" - Idia mutters under his breath but before he knows, Vil gestures silence on everyone, assuming a pose for critique, setting up the drape of his skirt to complement. This guy… 

"Idia. Well well. Your brother did some amazing work."

Idia makes a stupid, awkward grin. Surely, none of the ideas Vil inspired in his brother remain in the memory of either. He sighs. 

"Excellent choice with the pattern assemblage on the brocade. I would have made the shoulders a little wider for effect but, with you standing as usual... The cut fits you. You are wearing it, not the other way around. Very good. The two of you truly match. Or, should I say... Extremely talented. Astounding work."

"I... Thanks..?" What’s with the amount of praise? He cannot possibly remember his pitiful background, so why, indeed?

"You are welcome. Enjoying yourself, I hope? Trey?"

"Not bad. It’s nice seeing everyone all dressed up."

"C’est vrai, Chevalier de Rose! Et tu as l'air magnifique! Et - mais, bien sûr, Roi de ta Chambre aussi! "

Oh no, not him. Even Vil looks surprised. Idia wonders how he even manages to enjoy his company.

"Rook? You were so engrossed in that discussion."

"A long minute is what it took me to realize that you left without me. You wound me! But now I see the reason. Would you like to go for drinks, Roi du Poison? Any of you, gentlemen?"

Trey voices both of their opinions and all Idia could do is nod. Not with them. Certainly not with them.

"Thanks! We’re good here."

Vil acknowledges with a polished smile.

"Enjoy your evening, then, and we will be seeing you later, for the toast. Diamond, you may come with us."

With an elegant turn, Vil's dress-like suit forms a wave and follows him with Rook creating space for its unbothered movement, and so do the two of Cater Diamond, winking at Idia mischievously. 

Tightly bound blue flames still dance as Idia exhales with relief. 

"I owe you an apology, Idia. He really wanted that selfie. Eh, you probably know how he is. It was a big deal for Vil to see you tonight, said earlier there was something special about your outfit. So he put Cater to the task to catch you while you’re here. And now he gets to take a selfie with his star, hah."

"F-figures. ᴮᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ?" - Idia blurts out. He can't recall having any drinks before the evening started but he certainly acts like it already. Trey, luckily, understands.

"Oh, don't get me started. We may have gone into the triple digits. I think I’m done for the night."

Idia chuckles. A new figure makes a perfectly normal appearance, unlike what he usually does. Save me! - a tiny voice begs inside of Idia’s head. But Lilia probably isn’t here for his sake.

"Oya, have you seen Cater? He promised to take some pictures together, two thirds of our club have gathered here after all, kufufu ~" 

Not you too. Pictures this, selfies that. Idia sighs internally. He can’t exactly discuss games here either, so he just hopes to be able to fade into the background of the conversation, but… 

"He'll be back any second. We will keep you company. We were just discussing the outfits."

Back any second? Idia’s head spins. He cannot take it. How dull can it all get? With the outfits, and the selfies and other bullshit, ugghhhh - 

"I, uh, ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵍʳᵃᵇ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ. Heh. Brb."

Like hell. He won’t brb. He tried. He really did. He cannot stand there with people and talk this much and pretend he enjoys it. Now, to beeline for the Crewel’s table. Only one obstacle in between him and the fuzzy, funny feeling. If he manages to steal an extra bit to his glass, he might just clear the level.

Several caterers are pouring drinks, something along the lines of wine and liqueur, Idia concludes. And Crewel is standing there, chatting students up, probably counting everyone’s drinks and testing their sobriety.

Idia approaches. Crewel acknowledges his presence as he stands there, deciding what to go for. Should he even take anything, after all..?

"Go for the punch, Shroud."

Punch?

There is indeed a big bowl of red punch within his reach, with big chunks of orange and red berries floating about. He nods to this advice, then proceeds to fail taking a glass from three various caterers walking about. Crewel probably finds him pitiable as he grabs a glass from the nearest man with a tray, handing it to Idia, who just manages to thank with an awkward zig zagged smile. 

Having poured three ladles of fruit and liquid for himself, he scoots towards the sidelines of the Hall, now mostly comfortably vacant as everybody gravitates towards being the center of this show. Lame all around, but fine for him. A certain bonus of the first stage of tipsiness is a debuff to the profound aversion he fosters towards… everyone. He'll drink to that. 

Idia leans against a heavy drape on the wall, tasting his fruity beverage. It’s bittersweet, as expected, with some sour orange bits, rather strong, too. Not many people dig the punch, probably thinking it too mild. Did Crewel have something to do with its making..? Vodka..? No, not bitter enough. Tequila. In punch ? Does he teach this in his alchemy class after hours..? Kinda funny. 

However, the punch indeed packs its name, and quickly too. The anxiety-induced lack of hunger Idia suffered today was not beneficial for handling this drink. Well, any drink, really. He realizes what's up and heads for the nearby table of cocktail snacks. The last tiny vanilla cream tart on that plate will have to do, so he reaches out for it. 

"Wait -" he hears, but the thought - reaction lag he was already experiencing made him process it too late. 

"- Eh?" 

"Oh, dear. I was hoping to get that one..."

Oh shit. Oh crap. It's - 

"M-m-ᵐⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ᴹᵃˡˡᵉᵘˢ?" with a pouty face. 

And the pouty face was not the weirdest thing on him either. Idia turns around and just by noticing him in a full-blown long dress , could not do much but ogle with the guilty cake still in his hand stretched out frozen. His dark, blueish hair braided around his head exposed his long neck and collarbones, framed in a wreath of raven skulls in a manner that evokes weird feelings. Good thing Idia is tipsy already, because as far as fresh feuds and fancies go, this dude strikes all the chords in his gut.

"It appears that I am too late."

Idia feels the bullets forming on his forehead.

"I- uh- ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ - I was - I mean, I realized too late - y-you wanted the vanilla tart, I..! ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡ..!" 

What are you saying, idiot? Look at him smirking at you now, giving him ammo to mock you, even after everything that happened just a month ago - 

"What about the one you are holding?" 

"Eh?" 

"Would you, perchance, part with that one, for my sake? I will make it up to you." 

Idia blinks, processing the fairy's words. 

"But… I… uh, touched this one?" 

"Would that be a bad thing? …Fear not. I will reward you, appropriately." 

Total brain freeze. The punch is not helping, and his empty stomach isn't either. He is running on fumes and awkwardness. He cannot handle this. Malleus Draconia and his rewards. Just relinquish the cake, and hope it satisfies him. 

"A-alright, here… please take it, ᵗʰᵉⁿ..?" 

Idia hands the tiny vanilla cream cake to Malleus, who takes it along with a chance to trail his wrist, quick and light as a feather. Idia's heart jumps. The fairy takes his sweet time savoring the vanilla cake with a smile, seemingly distant, in his own plane of consciousness.

"Exquisite. Truly. Vanilla cream…" 

Idia watches the future king of Valley of Thorns turn away from the crowd, then ever so slightly graze his finger with his tongue to clean the last bit of the cream off. No way, its tip - it’s ridged, how did he never…? Looking away, Idia one-shots the rest of this drink. As if snapping out of it, Malleus looks at Idia standing all discombobulated, then straightens up his posture. 

"My, my. Shroud. You are a gift that keeps on giving. Has anyone ever told you?"

Said Shroud swallows his heart out of his mouth. He definitely feels tipsy, but is insufficiently drunk for this .

"Mr. Malleus, that phrasing is…" Oh, never mind. Least of his problems now. He is way past making sense of this man… fairy.

"Please. Can I help you with anything? Another drink, perhaps?"

Maybe just that, yes, Idia thinks, because he surely won’t get seconds if he approaches the punch bowl in this state. He swears he can feel the tips of his hair fade to pink. He is afraid to look. 

"A - ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵘⁿᶜʰ, ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ? I don’t think I can go myself…"

The crown prince of the fairy kingdom, running errands for him - and with a smile, too. Malleus practically glows as he takes the glass from Idia and leaves with a seductive - no. Stop. Do NOT go there.

But his back, the way this tight dress hugs his waist and his… Shit, shit shit shit shiiiiiit… Find a snack. Any plain biscuit, just to soak up the contents of his stomach, please, fast …

Several plain biscuits later, Malleus strolls back into his company. 

"Your drink, Shroud. Enjoy."

Idia doesn't enjoy. He just downs it all immediately, following with a sour face. He is trying hard not to look at Malleus… below his shoulders. Or into his eyes. Or horns. Actually, his hair looks pretty amazing today too - 

Certain citizenship memes run through his burning head and he chuckles, mocking himself internally.

"Not drinking anything yourself..?"

"I am not interested in these drinks."

Great! He will now look extra stupid in the eyes of the completely sober fae prince.

"So, you like this kind of events?"

"Do I like them? Well, it is interesting to see everyone… enjoying themselves."

Malleus gives a stare to a certain spot, transfixed. Scared that it is him who is on its receiving end, Idia quickly checks his suit for spots and stains, but a subtle turn of his head makes him realize that the fairy was probably simply amused to see a pair of guys making out in the adjacent window of the room. Yikes.

"Haha. That. Enjoying."

"They look like they're having fun."

Dude, the flirt. For real? How does one continue talking casually after all of this? 

It's too late to be thinking this through. Idia's veins are alight and his head is pulsing pleasurably. The loud crowd gathering moving around the center of the hall feels so far away, just the way he likes it. But the intimidating, yet magnetic presence of the head of Diasomnia remains right next to him. His tongue, it speaks of its own volition. And Idia doesn't care. 

"Say, Mr. Malleus, is that traditional fairy clothing you're wearing tonight?"

Bravo. The topic you escaped from, recycled. What a crafty conversation. So what, though? Not that any attire is more worth the words tonight. 

"Traditional? Not quite. It is most certainly, what do you call it… semi-casual. And… adapted, modeled to the likeness of human fashion. Not something I would wear at home, but I do quite like it. Does it strike you as strange?" 

They had this convo before, Idia is certain. At the sorting ceremony, in September. But the roles were reversed. And he… he misread Malleus' words at the time. Breaking curfew on campus in the lonely nights, his desperate face seeking a friend for Gao Gao, and the things this dragon fairy said while spewing blot out of every orifice of his, he will never mention them to anyone. But he will never forget them either. He cannot help but laugh at all the strange things they shared on campus during these three years.

"Not strange. Hot."

Malleus' eyes widen in surprise as he smiles. His upper fang shines through. 

"What a tease, Shroud. Surely you have suggestions on how to turn this design into a… summer garb?" 

The meaning of hot flew right over him. Yet he still somehow fell for it. Idia feels like a nitro boosted car drifting in the rain in 60fps, going really fast, and stylishly so. There's obviously no way he can say something stupid right now - nor can this possibly affect the international relations of the Valley and the Isle either. This horned guy, he doesn't understand shit, but still flirts back and goes for whatever he thinks Idia’s words mean. What a king of improv. And he doesn't even know it, naturally. 

"I, for one, think that this raven skull neck of yours can go lower." 

"Is that so, now..?"

"ᴹʰᵐᵐᵐᵐ…"

"So, would you go hunt a few more ravens with me, keep me company, hmmm?"

"R-ra - Eh?"

He may speak the most outrageous words in this world, but the sound of his laughter is as mesmerizing as a Star Rogue victory jingle. If not… more.

"Forgive me, Shroud, I jest. These are, of course, not skulls of real ravens. If they were, I would definitely not be the one who would be collecting more. But, I would welcome your company all the same."

Ha ha. Goteeeem..! Idia is now absofuckinglutely certain that his hair is burning hot pink. Thanks, ancestors. Fuck.

Well, he has already lost all there was to lose.

"Iiiiiiii… aaa, uh. Ehhh… ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ, ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ… TBH ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ, ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ᵇᵃⁱˡ ⁻”

”Well, now is a good time.”

Idia blinks drunkenly.

”Ortho will end me if I come back to the room this early."

"Hm. I never mentioned going back to your dorm, though." 

"Well, where then?"

"Simply stepping out to the courtyard right now should prove refreshing, do you not think so?" 

Stepping out. As if in, actually bailing the incoming highlight of the evening and all? The most beau- important person in the school? Going out while everyone's in here, but with someone, as an excuse..! Big brain. Good ending.

"Don't you wanna… be here at least for the toast tho?"

Malleus smirks and turns tail to take his leave, gesturing Idia to follow. 

"Do I look like I do?"

And Idia does… try, at least. Several steps towards the door of the Mirror Hall, and he realizes that the world swims around him all too much. Fuck he feels like a weakling. He should have stayed in his room and used this time to farm weekend mats.

He doesn’t really want that. He likes it here. No, he likes it here in this company . 

Just as he is about to sidestep shamefully to keep himself on his two feet, Malleus grabs his arm with a force unlinkable to his gentle, albeit tall frame. 

"ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ…" 

"Hold on, Shroud. Until we reach the hallway."

Noises and faces float casually all around them, and for a moment Idia finds it all even more so overwhelming than usual. And the usual thing is pretty bad already. Skirting around the main crowd, the two slip out into the corridor. Idia can't tell how long it took them, but as soon as the cold corridor air touches his face, it doesn't matter anymore. He stops for a second to inhale, thankful to be out of there. Malleus gives him a moment, holding him by his arm all the same. 

"I-I'm better now. T-thanks."

"Excellent. So, to the courtyard, shall we?" 

"Err… I, you really don't have to carry me any more…" 

Malleus blinks in surprise. 

"Ah, well then. Excuse me."

He lets go of his arm, but Idia has clearly overestimated his own ability. The prince moves in to provide support anew, but Idia instinctively stops him, somehow simply taking Malleus' hand instead. 

"I'm good. I'm okay. Let's just… move."

Malleus smiles with a nod. 

There may have been people in the corridor. They may have been watching, although Idia doesn't perceive much of what is happening anyways. There is something so captivating about the fact that the pleasantly cool hand of Malleus Draconia is holding his, that he doesn't really care about their surroundings. Since when is it exactly incriminating to hold one's hand? It's just… hands. It's not like they were engaging in debauchery in front of men and gods. Not that Malleus would engage in debauchery with him .

Idia's train of thoughts arrives into the courtyard station, where the two find that, alas, they weren't the only ones with the idea of escaping the boring evening, to this place no less. It does feel like a pleasant night in the dimly lit garden. At least, the air immediately helps Idia clear his head. Malleus has them stop in the ornate arch. 

"You look better."

"Yeah, definitely feeling better."

As if the wave of shame comes by somewhat late, Idia withdraws his hand under the guise of unbuttoning his collar.

"T-thanks…"

Malleus laughs under his breath. 

"I was not very fond of that event, either."

"But… you were invited to this event?" 

"Hm. Which is why I came. But now, I do not feel like staying. Do you… think I should have stayed?"

Idia gets flustered. It's really dark outside, but Idia knows it does him no good, as his feelings dye the flames of his hair instead. A glow in the dark, one ever so subtle, but an unwanted emotion beacon all the same. 

"No! I mean. Maybe? They will miss you for sure."

"Somehow, I doubt. Fufu…  Well. One person might. But… I have granted myself the permission to leave. There may be someone else looking for me, so…" 

The fairy prince closes his eyes for a bit, as if in deep thought. 

"No, we are safe. For now. Now, shall we move on? This place is far from private. A shame, really, but I am sure we will manage."

Looking for him? Idia immediately connects this to Malleus' bodyguards in training patrolling the area for him, having met Silver before the sorting ceremony this year. But, in private..? Noticing some obvious debauchery happening in the various corners of the garden as his eyes adapt to the darkness, Idia looks away and swallows. 

"Y-yeah. Let's move on. Where to?" 

"Let us go towards the Hall of Portals, then see where it takes us? It would be easy enough to brush it off as retiring early, don't you think?" 

He's right, sure would. That, or Malleus is already tired of him. Idia nods, then follows Malleus through the garden and towards its main exit. Gently, as soon as they clear the gate, Malleus takes Idia by his arm, not as tightly when he was holding him upright, but not as if holding it for appearances either. 

"May I?" 

Suddenly becoming aware of his liquor-induced drowsiness anew, Idia unties his tongue yet again. 

"ᴵ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ, ᵗʰᵒ… how?" 

"Why… what exactly?" 

"Why me. Why here, why now. All the whys, ᵐⁱˢ… ᴹᵃˡˡᵉ… ᴹᵃˡˡᵉᵘˢ."

The fairy, he is always full of mesmerizing laughter. It's… it's almost absurd.

"Should I give you my reasons? Is this what you wish?" 

"Y-yeah. I'd - I am dying to know."

Malleus lets out a loud sigh, instilling some vague fear in Idia.

"...I like you, you know. When else? I am to return home to my duties soon, and so are you. We aren't to laze around, our hands will be full before you know it -" 

"Not mine, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʸᵉᵃʳ, ᵖᶠᶠᶠ - I don't think they'll let me back to work at least until I graduate, lol."

"Well then. You are lucky. But I am not. Therefore, here and now. No time like the present. Or so I heard. After my little incident , and… what transpired. I would quite like to get to know you better. While I can."

He likes him, pshhh -

What a dork. Who could like Idia? Why, even.

How could he like… 

Places pass them by slowly, as Idia's eyelids hang heavy on his vision. The well-known staircase… Sam's shop… the clock tower. 

"You'd… find me extremely boring."

"For all your brilliance, Shroud…"

They eventually reach the Hall of the Dorm portals. 

"I tried talking to you every night I saw you out here, all of these years, any time I met you, I simply wanted to ask… no. You - the things you do. The things you like, the things you make. They peak my… curiosity, to an extent I do not favor enduring for long. It is an itch in the back of my mind, the unthinkable, so close and yet so far. Do you not think I can decide if you are boring for myself?"

Knees weak. Knees collapsing. Going dark - 

"I -"

"Let us sit here, Shroud ."

"Y-yeah. Thanks…" 

All of these years.

"Do you find any flaws in my reasoning?

Idia looks at the fairy prince sitting next to him on the secluded bench behind the portal hall, with his ever present gentle, yet somewhat concerned smile on his face. 

"ᴺᵒⁿᵉ, ᴵ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉ…" 

"Then, I trust I have earned to hear your reasons in return. It is only fair, I believe." 

Idia leans back into the bench and rubs his face. Listen to him, saying he likes him - 

"Just one more thing -" 

"An answer for an answer. Your turn."

Ugh. He is stubborn. But then… would he be as appealing as he is, if he wasn't unpredictable and stubborn? 

"So… ask away."

"Am I truly repulsive so?" 

"Ha?"

"That you keep running away."

Oh shit. 

"Well…" 

"Be honest with me, Shroud."

"I… ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ."

"But, you are."

Ah, fuck it. His eyelids, they are too heavy, and the fuzziness in his stomach too pleasant. Idia could bare his bones and his soul right now and not care in the slightest.

"Fucking - listen. I reeeally wish I didn't. But…" 

"... But?" 

"I wish I was able to stay."

"Then how come you never did?" 

"ᶠᵉᵃʳ."

A pause. It's very pleasant for Idia to lean his arms against the back of the bench and close his eyes, facing the sky. He cannot tell what Malleus is thinking, and he isn't trying to either. 

"... Fear… of me?" 

"Nah. Not you." 

Several hundred stars in the sky twinkle above them. Idia feels like he has a good rough estimate of the perceivable heaven.

"Then, of who?"

"...Me."

Silence between them lasts for a few minutes. Perhaps hours. But the night sky keeps moving above them and the dreams float in between the sparse clouds. 

"I frighten and disgust people. Sometimes both. Those braver tend to try and use me. Never ends well. I'm just… tired. And scared. And done with hearing the same words coming out of different mouths."

Yep, he's said too much alright. But perhaps just enough for this guy to give up. Of course, it's all for the best. Come on, be repulsed by the onslaught of self-hatred.

"...Shroud."

"Hm?" 

"Though I am unsure how someone so bright and beautiful could have be shunned by peers, I have seen things in this school that would not in good conscience let me doubt the hardships you have experienced. But, in my defense, I am no people . I am myself, and if it takes my time to prove it, so be it, for I have time in abundance, and affection aplenty. I do not ask for your trust, for trust is built. And I do not request for you to go out of your way, in any way - all that I ask is a chance for me to experience what you have most passion for, for I have seen that it is burning."

Look at you, gonk-ass edgelord. Crown prince of Valley of fucking Thorns on a poetic picnic for you in that beautiful dress of his while you wallow in the well of self pity. Spectacular, really. How long will the denial for it all making sense last? Idia recalls that even in that stupid birthday interview - he did proclaim his interest in Ignihyde, where as him , all Idia could think of is boo the cult of Draconia , all the while suggesting moving to his dorm still. Is this what everyone worships? No, he is never like this. Not in the meetings, as rarely as he attends, not in the magift livestreams, as all the screens stream his image, and not in classes, quiet and distant as a mysterious shadow cast from an ornate clothing hanger in the attic long forgotten. He is not kidding. He is not teasing. He's just dead-shit serious. Just like that, unraveling whatever cult bullcrap there is around him for Idia, as if lifting a curse. 

For a long moment, Idia feels that Malleus is truly the way he is now, in his presence, and for the purpose of his comfort. Fuck. 

And then it finally strikes him what Malleus said - that he likes him - Idia Shroud. Whatever the fuck that meant. 

Always the last to figure shit out. Him, the Idiot Shroud. 

Shame and sadness and some extra fear enter Idia's veins. As he pulls himself upright on the bench to the best of his ability, the only remainder of his dizziness forces him to affix his gaze on the pair of glowing, green eyes that look at him tenderly. Finally, his tongue lets loose after what felt like an eternity. Idia scratches his head stupidly. 

"So… What do you wanna do… together? I'll let you choose to do whatever looks fun to you."

Worry vaporizing off Malleus' face has gotta be the most priceless thing Idia has seen about him, immediately after seeing his guards pull him out almost naked and smothered in overblot goo. 

"For now, I want to take you to bed. And tomorrow… well, I will think of something."

Bed sounds fucking excellent right now. Malleus strokes Idia's palm with his finger, as light as a feather. 

"That feels nice..."

"I am glad."

Sliding further into the bench and setting his head on its back comfortably, Idia gives in to the tipsy sleep. 

"And… whatever you meant by liking me … thanks."

"Ah, I fully intend to clarify. And… you are welcome. Idia."

But said Idia had already dozed off. 

—------------

Idia wakes up in an unknown room, comfortably tucked in, in a very strange bed. Though it was obviously daytime, the ambience was that of a very cloudy day, visible out the tall windows clad in heavy purple drapes. Immediately, Idia springs upright in shock and inspects the place he woke up in. The air, the smell, the light covers, everything felt strange and he immediately winds up for a panic attack.

"Oh, good morning. Sorry, I could not find it in me to wake you earlier. You looked… really tired."

"M- M - mister Malleus?" 

"I thought you dropped the honorific, fufu."

Chuckling softly, the fairy approaches Idia casually clad in parts of his dorm uniform. Idia scuttles back into the pillow, covering the naked upper part of his body, embraced by the sudden cold. At least it felt like his only naked half - 

"I- Why am I here!? Did I..? Did we..?" 

Malleus sits next to Idia on the bed.

"Did we..?" 

"Well… you know!" 

Malleus raises an eyebrow, extending his smirk almost all the way to his ear.

"Who knows, truly."

It's his room . Idia has only ever seen it through the tablet, when he came by to pick up his wish star. But there's no doubting it. Why here? 

He tries hard to recall the contents of last night. He remembers the vanilla tart and then - nothing, just void and pressure in his head. Malleus gets off the bed and casts some magic at the coffee table. If only there was a spell to retrieve his memory immediately… 

Think! 

He glances at his body under the covers. He certainly doesn't feel any pain or discomfort in any places, if anything happened, surely he would feel it still - 

Malleus brings him a rather large ornate cup with a tassel, and Idia immediately identifies it as tea. 

"I may have overdone it with the heat, but please, inhale the vapors. It will help with the drowsiness."

"T - thanks." 

Idia inhales obediently, and Malleus uses his tense focus on the cup to softly stroke his hair. 

It doesn't phase him one bit. Not in a bad way. 

Things start coming back. But his first reaction is - Ortho. 

"My brother will be concerned -" 

"I had Lilia send him a message last night. Do not worry, only the four of us know that you are here."

Of course, Diasomnia dorm would have probably been shredded to bits along with the rest of the campus if Ortho came online without the info on his whereabouts, Idia concludes. The courtyard and the dizzy bench blabbering populate Idia's mind. Echoes of the events of last night - and what Malleus said - instigate feelings in him anew. The real, sober ones. 

"Mis - M… Malleus. I…" 

"...Take your time."

"I'm sorry for being an asshole."

"Oh, dear. Why would you say that?" 

"I acted like one."

"Fear is understandable. But I do not consider it bad. Later, however, I was very pleased to hear the honest words out of you. They are now safe, with me."

Idia swallows. Later. Honest. 

Honest to god memories suddenly all come back to him, and he… cannot help but giggle. Oooooh, damn.

"I - uh. I… hehe. I. Well. ᴺᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ ᵗʰⁱˢ."

Yikes. Well. BIG YIKES. He can't stop himself from blushing aggressively, pink dyeing all the flame strands he can see spread around him. So, probably all of his hair. 

"So. About what I would like us to do today… How about a lunch together, for starters ?" 

Ah man, Malleus is too good to him. Just… brushing off all the awkwardness like it's nothing. Perhaps it is nothing for him. What a champ. 

"Hehe. Lunch. ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵈᵒ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ."

"Excellent! We can discuss your new internship paper over food. I am… not allowed to work and eat but I am still at school, so I shall use the opportunity."

"Wait, new internship?" 

"Yeah, the amazing idea you had last night. What was it, introduction of a secluded society to a contemporary service network, case study ? I am sure Crewel may yet be persuaded about a better topic for your graduation year. " 

Fuck. He did say that last night… only… 

"Detached. Not secluded, detached…" 

Detached, being Valley of Thorns. Service network, meaning, internet. Among the fae. He sure recalls mentioning it, for motives less than noble, but...

"I stand by saying that it sounds phenomenal. I am… very excited, Idia. Truly."

And he calls him by his first name too. What a time to be alive. 

As he clips in the harness of his dorm uniform, Malleus approaches Idia's forehead with a kiss. If his hair could go any pinker, it would. But the kiss… it feels soft and pleasant. And Idia discovers that Malleus' room in fact smells like his hair, like the evergreen forests. 

The smell of pines… Idia finds it incredible.

"I will leave you to dress. You shall not be disturbed. Right, and, feel free to keep the bottom garment, if it is to your liking. The bath is yours. Would… an hour be enough?" 

Idia pokes out a leg from under the covers, blinking at the comfy linen pants. 

"Er… fifteen minutes… will be enough, thanks. How do I..?" 

"Hm. A half an hour, then. I need a word… with Lilia. Then, I shall return and take you out for lunch."

Idia's stomach rumbles, as if on cue. He grins, hiding his embarrassment. 

"Pog."

" Poggue , means..?" 

Idia laughs. 

"It means… something amazing. Something that…makes you excited."

"Poggue…"

"You're pog, ᴹᵃˡˡᵉᵘˢ."

The prince of darkness smiles brighter than the sun. 

"You are poggue too, Idia."

He turns to leave.

"Wait -"

"Yes?"

"So… this… last night. What happened… What was it?" 

The dragon prince smirks. 

"Why, it was a prom rehearsal. In anticipation of the full event."

"So… you mean to say… ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ’ˢ ᵃ ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ?" 

"Oh, isn’t there? It will surely only get better."