Work Text:
Christmas at Eden’s Garden Academy couldn’t be described as anything less than a mess. Which was exactly as Damon had expected it to be.
Jett was doing the task of racing Desmond around for cookies that he made, his voice in a facade of sorrow and hands in a pleading motion. Desmond was declining several times, but it was obvious he was trying to sound polite rather than annoyed.
Eloise was trying to hand out plates to the students (or rather, stragglers at this point) around the room, but with how many times she stuttered or trailed off, it was better to just ignore her.
Wolfgang was hoisting up Toshiko so she could plant the star on the top of the tree, but with how many times she frivolously bobbled back and forth and nervously laughed it off, it demolished any perception of it being delicate or graceful.
And whatever everyone else was doing.
Even though it was just the students talking now, all of the useless ruckus was getting to him, even though he was sitting in a chair, saving himself the pain by not contributing. It was ringing through his ears, causing a fatigued reaction to send to his brain. Which caused annoying buzzing all throughout his head, which clogged his vision with small black-and-white dots. He itched his arms, trying to concentrate on something besides the pain coursing through his brain, the feeling of his bones somehow becoming even harder.
I need to get the hell out of here, he noted to himself as he took in a breath of air. He’d have to wait until everyone was fully distracted, because in no way did he need Jett to tell him in that obnoxious voice, “Nah, hey, man, you gotta stay!” So for now he’d put on the same resting face that conveyed nothing but sheer annoyance, not letting any of the clouding pain make an appearance.
For a few seconds, he just sat there, eyes downcast to the table most of the time. Whenever he lifted his face, he met the gaze of Eva, who as always, portrayed no emotion or even notice besides a slight cock of an eyebrow. Damon wouldn’t doubt that she knew something was off with how analytical she was, but he honestly couldn’t care about what she was thinking right now.
On the third time she looked away after meeting his eyes, Damon decided it was finally time he got out of this damn hellhole.
He arose from his chair, and was immediately punished for it. Pain uprooted into his legs, and he winced from the spike of pain. He took a few steps forward, and of course luckily, balance seemed to cease him today. His slow gait had become a wobbly sidestep, his course steering further and further left every time he even moved his foot.
It was fucking fortunate nobody seemed to notice anything unusual.
His immediate destination was towards the little nook to the left of the kitchen, where he knew presents and throwaway Christmas lights were being kept. It wouldn’t be a terrific solution, but it’d lessen the noise, and if anyone questioned it, he could just mask his movement as wrapping presents. As if he actually got anyone anything.
He wondered about getting an ice pack or any cold compress in general as he walked by the kitchen fridge. But he quickly declined that thought, immediately thinking about how it would draw suspicion from the peers around him. Plus, somehow, the loss of coordinance had spread to his arms. He'd get one later, if anything.
It felt like an hour before he finally reached the entrance to the nook. He had to redirect himself so he didn’t hit the faded red arch as he walked through it. The floor immediately sent a large creaking sound into the air, which immediately went to his head.
He scanned his eyes over the room, but there were no cushions or anything to rest his head on. . . except the floor. Damon groaned, his nails digging into his sides. But he honestly didn’t care at this point, he decided, as he hastily laid down and smacked his head against the floor.
It wasn’t exactly comforting, the wood wasn’t even close to comfortable against the back of his head. Pain still shot through the lines of his forehead, and with how much he scrunched up his head to eliminate the pain for a few seconds, he wouldn’t doubt he could gain premature wrinkles.
But, it was better than nothing. The agony coursing through his head didn’t disappear, but laying down at all did ease it a small bit. He closed his eyes to try to get some peace.
“Ah.”
Great. There was somebody else in this stupid nook and his peace was disturbed once more. He’d come to ease his head, and because of some undeserving Ultimate, it was only going to make him go back to his original state.
He blinked open his eyes, and scanned over the space. At first, all he saw out of the same disturbed vision that made everything a bit blurry was destroyed tree lights and a half-wrapped present. It didn’t look like anyone was in front of him, so naturally, he looked behind him. And that’s when he saw, about a few feet away from him, a head of raven black hair and piercing blue eyes lightly gazing at him.
Alright, it was Wolfgang.
Out of everyone in this school, he supposed Wolfgang is one of the people he wouldn’t mind being by him right now. He stayed calm and composed most of the time, speaking in a soft and hypnotizing voice and manner of speech. Well, except for the times he got extremely passionate about justice for no apparent reason, but other than that, it wasn’t a nuisance to talk to him. Quite enjoyable, as much as he didn't like to admit it. Enjoyable enough that he was one of the people Damon actually drifted to when he had any free time. Plus, he was actually one of the only Ultimates here who actually earned that esteemed title. He was one of the most successful lawyers for his age, which was actually admirable. Except for him, Damon, and Wenona, there was really no one here who’s little hobbies could really be counted as something worthy enough of the title of an Ultimate.
But what was Wolfgang here for, exactly? Probably wrapping presents, he always was charitable enough and cared for every one of the fellow students. Why he was laying down? Could be a billion reasons. Damon’s head hurt too much to sort through the possibilities. His head hurting too much is probably why he didn’t see Wolfgang enter the nook in the first place.
He decided to sigh instead of saying anything. It wasn’t the same for Wolfgang, though.
“Hello, Mr. Maitsu, what’re you doing here?” The lawyer raised a bit from his spot, speaking in the most soft-spoken yet smooth tone Damon had ever heard. Like caramel, really.
“You can drop the formalities,” Damon said, running a hair through his hair.
The other man lightly chuckled, voice somehow still angelic. How Wolfgang could be so soft with everything he did, Damon didn’t know.
“Alright, then. Can I get an answer for my question though, Damon?” He wasn’t giggling anymore, but his voice still had a humorous lilt.
Damon supposed there wasn’t any reason to bluff. “My head hurts because of all the useless commotion in the main room.” He still decided to try to keep up the facade of his voice, though. Though he liked Wolfgang more than most of the people here, he wasn’t going to show any pain.
Wolfgang fully lifted into a seating position, and that’s when Damon noticed it. A small, red pillow was snuggled right under Wolfgang, wrinkled by the obvious mark of a person laying on it. Somehow seeing it made a spike of pain run up his head.
You’ve got to be kidding me. If I had gotten here a bit earlier, I would’ve had a cushion to lay on instead of the floor. Wolfgang’s a lucky bastard.
Wolfgang’s eyes drifted from Damon’s face, to the pillow he’d been laying on, and then back to Damon's face. “Oh, you’ve been laying down on the floor, have you not? Pardon me for not giving it to you. But you’re welcome to have it now.” Wolfgang grabbed the pillow and gently scooted it over in Damon’s direction.
“No, you can keep it.” He grunted, immediately scorning his pride. Great, he just refused comfort.
Wolfgang’s smile fell into a still line at the decline, but he then took a deep breath. And that delicate and hypnotizing, to be honest, smile was back.
“No, I insist. You need it way more than I do, Damon. It will only make it worse if you just lay on the floorboards.” Wolfgang proposed once more, fingers touching the fringe of the pillow.
“It’s fine.” If anything held true, Damon didn’t go back on his decisions.
“Alright, if you’re sure.” Wolfgang nodded slightly, and then placed the pillow right beside Damon.
He groaned. So much for alright, if you’re sure. He rubbed his nose bridge. If Wolfgang was so adamant about him lying on the pillow—
Plop.
Huh? Damon looked next to him and there was Wolfgang, right beside him, with that same soft, pretty, mesmerizing smile. Pretty? Damon didn’t think too much about his choice of words. Wolfgang was objectively handsome, with the tall structure, angular features, and slicked-back and well-kept raven black hair. So for his smile to be pretty, it wasn’t the most far out there.
Plus he didn’t need to hurt his head anymore than it already was.
“Do you really need to do this?” He said, ignoring the cloud of pain that sent a hurricane against his forehead again. Wolfgang sighed out of his nose. “Well, you’re clearly in a state of immense pain, so it’d be nothing less than wrong if I didn’t provide some comfort, such as company, to you.”
Immense pain? Where did Wolfgang fathom that idea from? Well, it wasn’t wrong, but Wolfgang shouldn’t know that.
“When did I say I was in that much pain? I just said I came because of a headache. I didn’t say how severe it was.”
Wolfgang’s voice lowered a few octaves. “Damon, it’s quite obvious that you’re going through more than a regular headache. The fact that you laid down on the bare floor with no reluctance, without searching for something to rest your head on, is quite telling. Also, every time you talked, your voice quivered with pain, despite you trying to cover it, I assume. Also, your face slightly twitched a few times.”
God. Damon knew that Wolfgang was a lawyer, but for him to pay attention to all of that. . . it was honestly considerate. It was all so caring. And, maybe Damon should give Wolfgang more credit for all of it. Something to thank him.
Damon bit his lip, feeling hesitance pull at his limbs. Fuck it, he told himself, and quickly rested his head in the crook of Wolfgang’s neck.
His skin was soft, but how could he be surprised? Everything about Wolfgang was soft. That smile, that voice, this skin. It was also chilly, which Damon figured was just his regular body temperature, as the heaters in here were working perfectly fine. But that wasn’t actually a bad thing. It was definitely welcome with his current state.
He heard Wolfgang’s breath hitch for a few seconds, but then he felt the man’s body relax under him. And then, Damon felt a hand card through his hair. Alright. So this was how it was going, huh? But… Damon found himself not caring. He burrowed himself further into that feeling of his hair being gently played with. Now, he could feel the cotton of Wolfgang’s sweater tickle his chin. Again, soft.
He’d think about that later. He’d think about all of this later.
“You're here for presents, I'm guessing?" Damon mumbled into Wolfgang’s neck, letting some of the pain seep out into his voice. But… somehow being here with Wolfgang, the pain had gone down. Funny, wasn't it?
Wolfgang chuckled, but this time it was long and hearty. Somehow, Damon liked that even more than his gentle laugh.
“Mhm, you got it. Your’s, specifically.”
Damon huffed. But this time, not out of annoyance. Out of content.
What a coincidence.
Maybe he wouldn’t need a cold compress after all.