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He was still absolutely covered in snow, but the cold had never fazed Jeramie, especially not at a time when his heart raced faster than the Shugods could fly, as he ran through Shugoddam’s palace, carrying an unconscious and injured Gira in his arms, like he were a bride.
None of those thoughts passed through him, though. His eyes were watering as he looked at the self-proclaimed tyrant king. Gira was bleeding, almost half of him covered in blood. He had taken a hit for Jeramie— to save Jeramie. And Jeramie knew Gira did dumb things, sometimes, but he wouldn’t believe Gira would do something this dumb.
Jeramie hated himself for this. He wished he’d never walked into Gira’s life like this. That way, there would be no way Gira would be so injured right now.
Douga, Shugoddam's retainer, greeted the two kings, as Jeramie ran through the halls of Shugoddam’s palace, calling for help. They seemed surprised at Gira’s position, but they didn’t give Jeramie a hard time about it. They just bowed down to him, gently, and then took Gira away from him, the two of them, along with a few other attendants, being able to carry Gira to the King’s bedroom, while Jeramie stood frozen, in the dark, red and gold coated hallways, too stunned to move, too stunned to even speak. Sacrificing his life for someone
The healers from Ishabana had been in the room with Gira for almost eight hours, now, and nobody, neither Jeramie, nor the retainers, was allowed to enter the chambers during the procedure.
Jeramie had paced outside Gira’s room for a couple hours, anxiously, not knowing what he’d do with himself if something happened to him— because of him.
Jeramie had been in love with Gira for almost a year now; it has started with them moving in together, Jeramie becoming the king of the in-between, after defeating Desnarak. He’d never been too good with feelings, he’d never known how to express what he had felt. The first time he saw Gira with the people, his sun-kissed face, his eyes glittering and sparkling with joy, the way he smiled, with little dimples forming under his cheekbones, when he interacted with his people.
Gira was a good King. Jeramie had initially thought he just wanted to be like Gira. His heart was as huge as an ocean— he didn’t rule a kingdom to fulfil his own pathetic desires, he ruled it like a true “People’s King” would. He did mess up diplomatic matters a bit, but it didn’t matter as much, because the other kings had been… somewhat friends… if they could be called that. (Or close associates, all of whom adored Gira). But Gira’s popularity in his own kingdom, as well as in those of their neighbours, was skyrocketing.
So jeramie had initially wished he’d become a king half as adored by his people as Gira was; but the more he got closely intertwined with Gira, like prey in a spider’s webs, the more he realised what he felt when he looked at Gira… was something more.
His heart fluttered, when Gira smiled at him. He beamed when Gira asked him for advice on royal matters, and he blushed when Gira asked him advice on personal matters— “Do you think I should wear a long cape or a shorter one?”
Jeramie would blush, and mumble something along the lines of “I think Himeno can answer that better—“
They would also put on Word, extravagant disguises, and go on tours across shugoddam— and sometimes Toufu, a favorite destination purely for its delicious delicacies, which had a whole other level of flavouring when consumed standing at a street food cart, and with bare hands, like animals, and getting sauces and chocolate and cream all over and around their faces.
Jeramie loved every moment he’d spent with Gira.
But he knew he couldn’t ever tell any of this to Gira. Gira probably saw him as a friend, even a brother, maybe. What was worse, Jeramie had never known how Gira felt about him being… half Bugnarak. Jeramie’s little insecurities, the ever lasting feeling that he was nothing but an unlovable monster, as he had been, for eons, would not leave him.
And how could he expect Gira to love him, while he hated himself. He felt that he didn’t deserve his love, he knew he wouldn’t be able to return his love to him either, because loving him would be a losing game.
And then this had happened.
When Jeramie had been unable to take it all in, he stopped pacing outside Gira’s door, and instead wove up another web of lamentation, a little hammock, and curled up into it, staring at the ceiling of the palace blankly, thinking about Gira, with tears threatening to spill.
He was still wide awake, and still overthinking about everything, from the worst case scenario where the worst might happen, and Gira might not come back to him— to dreaming up happier scenarios, where Gira would be smiling at him, and telling him he was okay. He’d never even dared to dream up a fantasy where Gira would tell him that he loved Jeramie the way Jeramie loved Gira… but a smile, a hug, those were dreams Jeramie could visualise, could actually see coming true.
Douga led him to Gira’s room, and Jeramie pressed his forehead against Gira’s room’s doorway, trying to gather up courage to open the door, and face Gira.
“The doctors say he will wake up in a little bit, Sir, when the amnesia wears off,” Douga informed him, startling Jeramie, who was so used to the loneliness and silence, that company often came as a surprise, “they have allowed visitors, and would like someone close to be by His Highness’s side when he wakes up”
Someone close.
Jeramie just nodded, half startled, half lost in his own thoughts, and waved Douga off. He was shaken up, completely, from within, when Gira had been attacked, and the injury had seemed to be bigger than anything they’d ever had to face before— Gira had taken a blast, unmorphed, right near his heart.
Jeramie knew he needed to be strong. So he breathed in, and built up his happier, court-jester personality once again, and confidently, stepped inside the room, hoping his vulnerable, broken side would not slip out.
When Jeramie walked into the room, he saw Gira sleeping peacefully. He felt a blush creep up his cheeks, smiling to himself, as he noticed how adorable Gira looked, almost like an innocent child, safe from all the troubles of the world. The storyteller in Jeramie woke up, at that moment, as he began dreaming up of a prince, and his happily ever after.
Jeramie decided he didn’t want to sit on the bed with Gira, instead, taking up a cushion, and making himself comfortable on the floor, so he was near Gira’s head. He rested his head against the thick teak of Gira’s bedside, and closed his eyes, waiting desperately for the Kuwagata Ogher to wake up.
He didn’t know how long he’d spent by Gira’s bedside, but the golden rays of Dawn were finally shining down upon him, when Gira moving, waking up. Jeramie didn’t move, immediately, observing what Gira would do first. Gira tried to lift himself off the bed, and then groaned, feeling the pain strike him, and groaned blindly, before grabbing his chest, trying to figure out just what the hell he did to be in this amount of pain.
“Please don’t,” Jeramie’s voice started him, and he grabbed Gira’s hand with his human hand, and pulled it gently away,
“What?” Gira groaned out, finally making the effort to pry his eyes open.
“Gira” Jeramie smiled at him, looking dopey, trying to put up his cheeriest self in front of the other man to wake up to.
“Jeramie?” He asked, confused, for a second, wondering if he was still asleep— why else would Jeramie be sitting beside his bed, looking all dishevelled, like he had just been through hell and back.
“What happened?” He croaked, and was almost shocked to see Jeramie’s overall cheerful demeanour breaking down, and his eyes filled with tears, as he scrambled for a cup of water for Gira, and held it out for him to carefully sip from.
Jeramie didn’t say anything, after that, just smiled tearfully, and tried to look the other way. Gira wondered if he should say something to him, to ask what was wrong, he did remember jumping in the way of a blast towards Jeramie, and maybe that was why there was pain everywhere, but that didn’t explain why Jeramie was all…
Oh.
“Please never do something like this again” Jeramie suddenly spoke up, eyes still wandering everywhere except to meet Gira’s.
“He was going to shoot you!” Gira argued but went silent when Jeramie bowed his head and presses his forehead into Gira’s hand still in his grasp.
“And instead he shot you,” Jeramie croaked, and Gira was startled when he heard the desperation in Jeramie’s voice, and when he looked back, Jeramie’s eyes were still wet.
“You could’ve died— I- I- thought I’d lose you—”
Gira was speechless, he hadn’t perceived something like this could have such a drastic impact on Jeramie, but he seemed broken, almost.
“Never do something like this again,” Jeramie said again, and this time he pressed his lips to Gira’s hand. “I’m not ready to lose you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not ready to lose you either,” Gira snapped back and then took a shallow breath when his chest reminded him that he had just been shot. “You didn’t even see him. He could have killed you then and there.”
“He almost killed you,” Jeramie lowly gave back and Gira could hardly stand to see him that sad or scared.
“Almost, okay? I’m not dead,” he reminded him, with a wide smile.
“Let’s keep it that way, okay? Forever dangling on the lines of always~” Jeramie asked, tearfully, smiling like the poet he was, and Gira rolled his eyes at him, “as long as you stop being stupid, so I don’t have to look out for you all the time” he stuck his tongue out, making Jeramie frown, “No?”
“No, you won’t stop being stupid?” Gira asked, almost laughing at how ridiculous this conversation was becoming.
“No, you should stop looking out for me all the time. It’s not worth it” Jeramie said, avoiding his gaze again, “I’m not worth it.”
“But you are” Gira said, trying to sit up, and Jeramie, immediately at attention, swatted him back down.
“Stop that,” Jeramie reprimanded him, “It’s still healing.”
Gira ignored what Jeramie had said, and turned himself to look at Jeramie, completely, “Why do you think I tried to save you?”
“I’m sorry I put you into danger,” Jeramie told him this, without meeting his eyes, avoided the question, and got up. “I’ll let you rest now.”
He turned around, no doubt, to leave, and Gira knew he couldn’t let that happen, he’d still not gotten a chance to say what he wanted to say! He needed to confess his feelings properly!
“Don’t leave,” Gira calls after him and beckoned him to come closer when he turns around; Jeramie hesitated for the longest moment before he finally came back to Gira’s bedside.
“I did this, because I love you. And I don’t want to lose you.” Gira said it. There it was, out in the open, and he felt his heart racing against the pain in his chest, with the weight of his confession still lingering in the air between them.
“However could you love me—“ Jeramie started, but Gira interrupted him, immediately, he wasn’t going to have any of Jeramie’s self loathing crap in front of him. It was plain truth, that he loved him, and he also knew Jeramie had similar feelings. Gira was innocent, yes, but he was no child, he’d seen the way Jeramie looked at him, he’d seen the way Jeramie smiled, he’d taken his time to notice every single expression that caressed Jeramie’s features, and he knew it, deep down— and maybe with some love advice from Himeno and Kaguragi— that Jeramie loved him. Gira had been looking for ways to confess to Jeramie for so long, because he knew Jeramie himself would never, but he needed to move the two of them out of this stalemate.
“Oh Jeramie… but I do. But that’s not important. What’s important is that you need to love yourself. And only then, would you be able to love me, too”
Jeramie felt startled at this response, though. A part of him wanted to cling on to the words that yes, Gira had just said he’d loved him, but another part of him hated himself for it. What could Gira ever get, loving him? More pain? More hurt? He wasn’t worth it. Maybe Gira was right, he wouldn’t be able to give Gira the love he deserved.
Jeramie shook his head, “no, no, no. Loving me will destroy you! Nobody that has ever been able to love me, has been happy…”
“And they tell me I’m the dramatic one” Gira laughed, “listen to me, Jeramie-san,” he held his hand, “I love you. And I know you love me too… so why don’t we give it a chance? Maybe you’ll also start seeing yourself in a… better light?”
Jeramie drew in a sharp breath; he looked at Gira, his kind features, his ever-so-hopeful, ever-so-mischievous smile; his feelings for Jeramie really felt genuine, and Jeramie, with all his heart, wanted them to… be something… He closed his eyes, letting the tears dry within, “only if… only if you promise not to jump in front of explosions, to save me”
“That’s one thing I can’t promise” Gira beamed, “but next time, I’ll jump with a big shield, so both of us get uninjured” he laughed, “And I know you are at a loss of words, but I am not, so, Jeramie Brasieri, King of the In-Between, I really, really like you. Like like like you, love you… so would you please stop hating yourself and all those stupid shit until I get the chance to take you on at least one Toufu street food date?”
Jeramie was too surprised to hear Gira swear to protest the implication that this was somehow his fault, so instead he just nodded dumbly.
“I—you know—yeah. Same,” Jeramie stammered out, and he couldn’t even find it in him to be embarrassed when Gira laughed at that. He mentally made a note to write out a long poetic confession for Gira later, and stick it under his pillow, so he would be able to convey his feelings in a better way, he had always been better with reading out written material, anyway.
“I love you,” he said, finally, once he’d calmed down and he cupped Gira’s cheek in his hand.
Gira wondered, for a second, if his sudden breathing problem was due to the blast wound or if maybe Jeramie just had that effect on him.
“I’ve loved you from the start,” Gira promised, smiling, and Jeramie chuckled at that.
This felt like a promise of what happiness tasted like. Gira couldn’t wait, any longer, at that, wounded or not, short of breath, or not, he leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips against Jeramie’s, and Jeramie couldn’t believe he’d been that lucky, but he felt filled with hope, as the kiss ignited beautiful emotions in him, and he kissed him back with an equal amount of love and passion, if not more, the both of them getting lost in the moment.
Their moment.