Work Text:
Cellbit sits at his desk, eyes boring into the computer screen laid out before him. The light casts a ghostly white onto his face, illuminating the keyboard where he types with a deranged frenzy. Not that he needs it illuminated. He could type with his eyes closed without making a single mistake.
Though if one did not know this about Cellbit, it would not be obvious by his current typing performance. His claws skirt over the keyboard, the backspace key used a gratuitous amount. His eyes are heavy, movements sluggish and careless.
The Brazilian had recently reached an all time new record of most consecutive hours slept since joining the order. Though, this was only after being wrangled to bed by Roier, who had laid on top of him till he stopped struggling and eventually passed out cold. If Cellbit were any more dramatic, he would’ve called this a hostage situation. Truth be told, he really appreciated his fiances care for his wellbeing.
Cellbits body had finally gotten a taste for a night well rested and unfortunately caved too easily to a reasonable sleep schedule. It was only a matter of time before Roier wrestled him to bed again, tossing him around like he was nothing but a sack of potatoes. His strength had been surprising. (And, if Cellbit wasn’t so busy fighting for his life to try to get back to work, it would have also been very attractive.)
He glances at the clock at the bottom right corner of his screen. 12:32 AM. The edges of the numbers are blurred. Cellbit takes this as a sign to chug down his coffee, bitter and lukewarm at best. It’s gone within seconds, and does absolutely nothing to remedy his current state. He sets the empty mug to the side, going back to documenting his findings.
He doesn’t realize how spaced out he is till he feels hands drape around his shoulders, a head dropping into his vaguely dirty hair. Cellbit thinks his capacity for surprise has gone out the window by now, as he leans into Roiers embrace. A deep sigh escapes his mouth, and he almost feels as if he could fall asleep right here, right now. But then the warmth of his fiance is gone, and his chair is being pulled back. He notices that Roier is saving his document, face illuminated in a wash of white. Though, it makes Roier look more resplendent than ghostly.
Roier grabs his hands gently, pulling Cellbit out of the chair, close to his chest. His back pops, the sound indicative of how long he’d been sitting there. He knows he will be forced to bed yet again, but his body cannot put up much of a fight anymore. In this state, Roier would win without even trying. Cellbit curls into his fiances chest, despite being taller than him. Even so, he cannot help but feel like they fit perfectly together. As cheesy as it is, he feels as though they are two pieces of a puzzle.
Roier laughs, a gentle thing as he leads Cellbit out of his office and theoretically to his bedroom. He thinks Roier could lead him to hell, and he would follow along because he loves Roier. He thinks he’d follow Roier anywhere.
He isn’t really sure how long they walk for. He’s really focused on their hands slotted together. He’s so warm. This is what he really feels he’d been missing all this time. Enigmas and codes and puzzles are so far away from his head when they’re together. It’s like none of that really even matters. (It does, Cellbit knows this.)
They’re in his bedroom now. The door clicks softly behind him and Roier rejoins his hands with Cellbits. They’re warm.
He looks up at Roiers face, warm and loving and so full of care. It makes Cellbit dizzy, almost enough to knock him over. He wants to kiss him, and it only takes him a second to realize he’s allowed to do that. So he does.
They’d kissed many times before, but it didn’t ever lose its electricity. It breathes life into him, as if Roiers lips were his lifeline. His fiance's hands move to tangle in his hair, scratching just behind his ears, where he knew he was most likely to pull a sound out of the Brazilian. Unfortunately, the man got exactly what he was looking for, as a delicate sound released from his lips. He feels Roier smile, pulling him forwards till the back of his knees hit Cellbits bed. Roier sits, pulling Cellbit into his lap with practiced ease.
His lips trail down to kiss his jaw, Cellbit huffing indignantly at the loss of direct contact. Nevertheless, he tilts his head for his fiance, exposing more of his neck.
Roiers second pair of arms trail down his shirt, unbuttoning it with ease. They'd had many nights like this before, truth be told. His clawed fingers trail down where he knows exactly where Cellbit scar is. It's wordless appraisal. Roier didn't need to say anything for Cellbit to know exactly what he's thinking.
Roier kisses his neck gently, moving down with each sweet kiss to his shoulder. Though, as he is a devious and mischievous man, he bites just where Cellbits shirt collar cannot cover a mark.
Cellbit gasps, pulling back from Roier. His eyebrows are downturned in annoyance, “Seu merdinha, you did that on purpose.”
He almost regrets meeting Roiers eyes, because they glean with something impish and delightfully devious. Their maroon glint is downright irresistible. Cellbit cant stay annoyed, he’d let Roier get away with anything, as inconvenient as it’d be to future Cellbit. Though he does want to wipe that smug grin off his fiances face, so he captures him in a hasty kiss.
His sharp canine catches on Roiers lip.
And Cellbit realizes too late that he’s bleeding.
Even if it’s just a little. (Just a little is too much. It shouldn’t be there at all.)
It still mixes in his mouth and the taste is too familiar on Cellbits tongue that he almost wretches.
He pushes Roier away immediately, before that dark part of him can get the best of him again. Roier is, understandably, very confused. Blood is smeared on the right side of his lip, and it fills Cellbit with a feeling he’d wanted to leave behind. (Hunger. It’s hunger.) He cannot tear his eyes away, as leaks down his fiances bottom lip to his chin. It takes everything in Cellbit to not act on thrown away impulses.
He has to look away from him, scrambling away to the other side of the room. There’s a trash can there that he hurls into, the measly meal he’d had today lost within seconds.
He would never. He would never do something so animalistic and cruel to Roier. He loves him. That metallic taste still lingers on his teeth. It feels like it’s on his hands, on his face, on his clothes. Something he used to revel in, ripping flesh apart with his teeth. (Screaming. He remembers their screams.) He’s not like that anymore. The thought of doing it now makes him want to throw up. So he does, again.
“Gatinho?” His ear twitches when he hears Roier speak. “¿Estás bien, cariño?”
Once he is one hundred percent sure he’s not going to throw up again, he turns back to Roier, eyes still averted nervously. He prays that when he looks back the blood isn't there anymore.
It’s not, and he lets out a long held breath.
“Gatinho?” He calls again, concern lacing his tone.
“The blood,” he responds, as if that’d explain anything at all. God, he’d been avoiding this particular part of his past for much too long. With a deep sigh, he walks back over to sit next to Roier again. He’s still wiping that phantom feeling of blood off on his white trousers. It lingers. A ghost of his troubles.
“I’ve told you… mostly the truth about my past. The murders, prison, escaping. All that. But there was a more gruesome bit I may have left out.” He very pointedly does not look at Roier. Conflicted emotions mix in his head, and some sort of self preservation tries to make up a way to get out of explaining. But Cellbit remembers the hurt and betrayed look on Roiers face the last time he didn’t tell the truth, and he would rather get gutted by a chainsaw again than see that expression once more.
“There’s no graceful or soft way to say this, so I’ll just go ahead and say it. I was a cannibal. BUT! I have not. Done that in a long time.” He goes to turn to Roier, nerves a half step away from completely seizing his body.
“Is that all?” Roier responds, exasperated and slightly amused.
“You’re not perturbed by that at all? That I have not only killed people but also consumed human flesh?” Cellbit is almost dumbfounded. Roier waves him off, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of.”
Cellbit gapes in amazement. “You… are unlike anyone I have ever met, did you know that?” Roier grins, all teeth and devilish good looks.
“So I’ve been told,” He pulls in close. Cellbit stills, smile spreading across his face.
“Oh yeah? By who?”
Roier pulls impossibly closer, and Cellbit feels his warm breath on his face.
“You.”
Their lips meet, and a wave of contentedness washes over them both.