Archive of Our Own ^beta

Reaper adjusted his jacket, checking his reflection in the bathroom mirror. They still had an hour until their date, but you could never be ready too early, and Reaper didn’t have anything better to do in the meantime. His shift was covered—even if they weren’t technically supposed to have shifts. If Thanatos had a problem with Reaper slacking every once in a while so he could see his boyfriend, he could take that up with him in a hundred years when his partner wasn’t a distraction anymore.

He knew that number was much lower than that, but numbers changed. A medical advancement, a new technique. There was still time. And until that time ran out, Reaper would ignore that nagging knowing he got when he locked eyes with Geno.

Reaper had gone on a couple of dates with him at this point. They were definitely still in the nervous, bumbling stage—and Reaper knew it took a long time for Geno to trust—but the undercut of familiarity was slowly taking over.

Every day, Reaper was over the moon. Nothing could be more perfect. The person of his dreams had finally said yes, and they were actually starting to like him.

His phone chirped and Reaper shook away his domestic fantasies. He didn’t want to overwhelm Geno, lest he run for the hills.

He checked his messages and saw a new one from Geno—if his date’s name had ten heart emojis next to it, that was nobody’s business.

*Hey, I’m sorry, but I think I have to call off tonight.

His heart sank. Maybe he hadn’t been good enough at hiding his excitement after all.

*My body has chosen war and it is winning.

*I haven’t even been able to get out of bed yet, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the theater.

Oh, that made sense. That was a whole lot better than just being rejected. It wasn’t that Geno didn’t want to come, he just couldn’t. Reaper was disappointed, but he wasn’t heartbroken.

He cringed at the thought of Geno being in pain, though. It had to be bad if they hadn’t gotten up yet. It was nearing 5 pm. Had Geno just been lying there, staring at the ceiling? Surely not.

Sighing, Reaper grabbed his keys and headed out of his apartment. He didn’t bother to lock the door. Anyone who tried to break in would have a hell of a time with all of the magic he had imbued it with. Swinging the keys on his fingers, he crossed the hall.

His first instinct was to knock, it really was. But then he figured that: 1) Geno wouldn’t hear it from his bedroom, and 2) if he did hear it, there wasn’t much he could do about it anyways. That and, if Geno really wanted Reaper to leave, he would be out the door in an instant.

With a little magic, and the tools he kept on his keyring, the apartment door opened for him. He resolved that Geno really ought to let him put a couple of barriers around the place, just to be safe, and walked into the apartment.

He waited for the soft “mrow” and pitter of feet that he usually heard when he entered the apartment, but Maxwell wasn’t in his typical spot. In fact, the cat was nowhere to be seen.

Reaper closed the door and entered the rainforest made up of houseplants. When Reaper had first seen them, he thought that Geno must have studied horticulture or something before going into hospice, but when he had made a comment about it as Geno gave him a tour, he had just shrugged.

“They keep me company,” they had said.

Reaper couldn’t wrap his mind around all their names, but he was certain that Geno knew everything about them, from the date they sprouted to how many leaves had yellowed in the time they were in his care.

They turned the stale apartment into a lovely green space though, so Reaper wasn’t complaining.

He narrowly avoided a peace lily in the hallway before finding the door to Geno’s room. Gently, he knocked.

There was the sound of bedsheets shifting and a quiet, startled “Hello?”

“Can I come in?” Reaper asked, hand already on the doorknob.

“Reaper?” Geno said, louder this time.

He opened the door. “The one and only.”

Geno squinted at the introduction of the evening light. The room was dark, with the shades blocking out any light from Geno’s window.

They were sitting up a little, phone off to their side. Many blankets, most fuzzy, were wrapped around Geno, pooling in his lap. The soft fabric of a rose-patterned pajama top peaked through. Maxwell watched Reaper from the foot of the bed, witchlight eyes gleaming at the introduction of daylight.

“What are you doing here?” Geno mumbled.

Reaper shrugged. “I wanted to see you. Figured if you can’t go out, I could come in.”

Geno’s face softened for a moment before going sour. “Reaper, I’ve been in bed all day, and in pain for three. I haven’t showered and I’m still in pajamas. I am not exactly date-ready.” His nose wrinkled. “I’m disgusting.”

Reaper waved his comment away. “You know I don’t care what state you’re in. I know you’re in pain and I know that you’re upset because there’s things you need to do and you can’t do them.”

“Reaper, I’m fine. This happens all the time, I’m used to it.”

“I know,” he sighed, “but it doesn't have to be like this. I can help. What did you want to do today?”

Geno looked him over before sitting up more. They winced. “I was going to shower and make mac n’ cheese but then things were a lot worse than I was expecting.”

“So what if I helped you with these things and then we watch a movie or something?”

Geno looked over to their closet. “I haven’t even been able to get changed, I don’t think I’d be able to shower.”

“Could you do a bath? A warm bath would help with the pain, right?” They had the same apartment, so Reaper knew how the bathroom was set up.

Geno paused, tossing the thought over in his head. “Yeah,” he finally said with a sigh. “That would work.”

“Okay,” Reaper grinned at the small victory and walked over to their closet. “Tell me what clothes you want me to grab.”

Geno swung his legs over the side of the bed. Maxwell got up and performed an exaggerated stretch before walking over to them for head scritches.

“There should be a green sweater, that one won’t make my skin break out into hives, and the gray shorts.” Reaper bent down and shifted the folded clothes around until he found what he was looking for. “Oh, and a pair of the fuzzy socks. I’m freezing”

“The thermostat is probably still turned down from last night,” Reaper said. He gathered the clothes up. “I’ll put these in the bathroom and then I’ll come and get you, okay? Don’t do anything stupid like trying to join me on your own.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Geno muttered as Reaper left.

Reaper moved quickly just in case Geno decided to be brave anyway. On his way back, he turned the thermostat up. He set it to something he had seen before in the apartment. He had no idea what temperature was ideal, seeing as he was always cold, something that came from the job.

When he got back to the room, Maxwell had laid down in Geno’s lap. Geno had a faint smile on their face as they ran their hands through the cat’s black and white fur.

“You’re going to have to move, little man,” Reaper said, moving to shoo the cat. Maxwell just stared at him.

“He doesn’t want to move,” Geno cooed. “He doesn’t want to leave his mommy.”

“Well, he can join us in the bath,” Reaper said as Geno picked the cat up and moved him over to the other side of the bed. Maxwell made a small sound in protest but stayed put. “But I can’t carry both of you.”

“Carry?” Geno looked up.

He shrugged. “Seems like the simplest solution. Walking will just stress your body out too much, and you don’t exactly have an office chair for me to wheel you around in.”

They seemed hesitant. “As long as you don’t drop me.”

Reaper gently wrapped an arm under Geno’s legs, and the other around his waist. Geno grabbed onto his jacket.

There were some perks that came with being an angel of death, besides the whole “always freezing” thing. One of those was that no matter what Reaper did, he was always in relatively good shape. It was necessary if he was to spend the entirety of his practically immortal life chasing around souls and searching for people on his list. He couldn’t run a marathon or lift a car, but picking people up was very easy, especially if they were as frail as Geno.

He wondered if the man had been able to eat anything today. It didn’t seem likely, given the position he had found them in.

Reaper set Geno down on the toilet next to the tub and knelt down to turn the water on. “How hot do you want it?” he asked.

“Scalding,” Geno said.

Reaper adjusted the knob and stood up. “So, how do you want to do this?” He raised his voice slightly so he could be heard over the running water traveling through the pipes around them.

There was a brief moment of silence where Geno realized and then accepted the fact that Reaper would have to see him without clothes on.

“I…” he faltered. “I’m going to need your help, uh, un—undressing.”

Reaper, who had reached the same realization a couple of minutes ago, remained unfazed. “I could help you get in and then come back when you’re ready to get out.”

Geno nodded slowly. “That…that could work.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” Reaper checked the temperature of the water filling the tub. His question was soft, and Geno almost couldn’t hear him over the rushing of the water.

They shook their head. “No. No, I think I’m just going to have to be uncomfortable.”

“Alright,” Reaper said.

Geno wriggled out of his pajama top with little assistance and was able to take off the bottoms on his own as well. He stalled when it came to his socks, though.

“I’m, uh, I’m not going to be able to reach,” Geno said. His face was bright red, he knew, along with his shoulders. Hell, he was probably blushing up to his neck. If Reaper commented on it, they would blame it on the steam wafting over from the bath.

Reaper sprung into action, kneeling to slip their socks off. He kept his eyes on the tub filling up. The steam seemed to be affecting him, too.

“Thanks,” Geno said when Reaper pulled away.

“Of course,” Reaper said. He checked the water again and then turned it off. “Alright, I’m going to help you to the edge of the tub and then you can kind of ease yourself in.”

Geno nodded and grabbed onto Reaper’s jacket again. The angel helped him to the edge of the tub. Geno hissed when he touched the cold porcelain, but swung a leg over to test the water. Slowly, and with some help from Reaper, he eased into the hot water.

Geno let out a deep breath. “The temperature’s perfect.”

“Good. Do you have everything you need?” Reaper asked.

Geno shot him a questioning look.

“Is everything within reach?” He elaborated.

“Oh,” Geno sat up in the water, slightly impressed by the angel’s foresight. “Uh, if you could grab the shampoo that’s on the rack, that’d be wonderful.”

“Alright,” Reaper handed it to him. “Call me if you need anything? I’ll leave the door slightly ajar so Maxwell can visit you.”

Geno nodded and sunk deeper into the water with a sigh.

Reaper left the door slightly open, passing Maxwell in the hall. He entered the small kitchen, made smaller by the multiple plant racks and the jungle crowding the counters. He saw the box of mac n’ cheese on the counter and checked the fridge to make sure that they had what they needed. They did, but Reaper would have to do something later about the current state of the fridge. If Geno was planning on living off of nothing but mac n’ cheese and whatever might be in his pantry, that was unacceptable.

He found a decently sized pot under the sink and filled it up. He set the water to boil and checked the state of the kitchen. The sink was filled, with a single fly sitting on an unwashed plate, sure to be food later on for one of the four different carnivorous plants Geno had.

It would take a while for the water to come to a boil—their apartments had awful stoves—and Reaper didn't think Geno would be getting out anytime soon. Reaper opened the dishwasher and found that Geno was using it for storage, but he spotted a sponge and a bottle of dish soap. Humming, he grabbed the soap and got to work.

The house was silent as Reaper worked, save for him singing quietly to himself. It took a while to dry and put everything away—Geno organized his kitchen in a way that Reaper couldn’t get his head around, but the sink was empty and clean when he was done.

The water was boiling by then, but he also heard Geno’s voice. He dumped the pasta in as quickly as he could and made his way into the hallway. He wiped his hands on his jeans and poked his head into the bathroom. “Did you call me?”

Maxwell was sitting by the bathtub. Geno was propped up, skin pink from the heat of the bath. Reaper’s heart leaped in his chest, taking in how the steam framed Geno’s slight, pale frame. For a brief moment, he had to remind himself how to breathe before forcing his composure back into his body.

“Yeah, I did,” Geno said, reaching down to pet the cat, who shied away from the dripping water. Geno clucked his tongue before looking back up. “I think I’m done.”

“Alright,” Reaper grabbed a towel hanging from a hook on the wall. “Max, you’re in the splash zone, buddy. Better move.”

Maxwell obeyed this time, leaving the bathroom with his tail held high. Reaper took off his jacket so it didn't get wet. Then, he leaned down so Geno could grab onto him and transferred him to the edge of the tub. He wrapped the towel around Geno.

“Do you want me to put your clothes in arm’s reach or..?” Reaper asked.

Geno wrinkled his nose. “I…I don’t know yet. The hot water was nice but I’m so sore and my skin just feels raw. It’s going to take me a moment to muster up the courage to get dressed.”

“Do you have to?” Reaper asked.

They shot him an unamused look.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he quickly backtracked. “I’m just saying, we’re not going anywhere. A blanket wrapped around you could suffice or something. That way you wouldn’t have to get fully dressed but you wouldn’t be walking around naked.”

Geno studied him for a moment, and Reaper was regretting saying anything, but Geno pulled the towel closer to himself and nodded slowly. “That… that could work.”

“Alright, let me grab one while you get dried off.” Reaper headed to the couch. There were a couple of throws there, but Reaper wanted to save those for later. He found a larger one in the closet next to the bedroom and brought it into the bathroom. It was pretty soft, so hopefully, it wouldn’t bother Geno’s skin.

“That one’s perfect, thank you.” Geno took the blanket from him, letting the towel drop to the floor. He wrapped it around himself and then started to stand up before Reaper stopped him.

“I’m not paralyzed,” Geno growled.

“You were about to spend 20 minutes gearing yourself up to put on clothes.”

Geno didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look happy when the angel carried him into the living room. Reaper tossed them onto the nest of throws.

“I’m going to make mac n’ cheese. You have a job to do,” he said.

“And that is?”

Reaper handed him the remote. “You, my rose, are in charge of picking out what movie we’re watching.”

“Mmm,” Geno said, wriggling under the blankets.

Reaper smiled at him and leaned forward. “Any chance I can get a kiss?”

Geno faked a sigh. “I suppose I owe you one after everything you’ve done for me.”

Reaper stiffened and pulled away. “No. You don’t owe me anything,” he said in all seriousness, something that he rarely did. “I’m not here, I’m not doing all of this, for sex or affection or anything. I’m doing this because I wanted to see you. I’d—I would never ask something from you just because I did the bare minimum.”

Geno gave him an odd look but nodded. “Okay,” they said slowly. “Want a kiss anyway?”

“I would love that, thank you,” Reaper said and kissed him. “Now, the pasta’s probably done so I should go check on it.”

The pasta had a few more minutes on it, but the more pressing matter was the fact that half of it was stuck to the pot. “Shit,” Reaper cursed as he tried to scrape off what he could. He was able to salvage some of it, but a good deal of the shells remained on the bottom of the pot.

When it was done, he followed the rest of the instructions to a T and made two bowls of mac n’ cheese, one with significantly less in it.

“Can you grab my pill case, Reaper?” Geno called out.

Reaper looked over with a start before nodding and bringing out a glass of water and Geno’s rather hefty pill case, with the days of the week and times on it. Geno thanked him softly before getting started on his regime as Reaper came back out with the bowls.

“Alright, prepare your critiques. I am very inexperienced with mortal food,” Reaper said, taking a seat next to Geno. “What’re we watching?”

Geno took the fuller bowl handed to them, the fork making a soft clink against the porcelain. “Do you mind if we just watch a couple of episodes of Friends?”

“Not at all,” Reaper put one of the throws in his lap.

Geno pressed play on a random episode and began to eat. “You did great,” Geno said. “Tastes just like how I make it.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure the pot looks different when you make it,” Reaper said, trying a little from his bowl before cringing. There weren’t many mortal foods he could stomach and it seemed boxed mac n cheese didn’t make the list.

“No good?” Geno asked.

“My compliments to the chef,” Geno rolled his eyes, “but mac n’ cheese isn’t for me.”

“It comes in handy when you don’t have the energy to make anything,” Geno said and turned their attention to the TV.

After the episode finished, Reaper took both of their bowls and moved them to the sink.

“Sorry, the sink’s a little full right now. I’ve been meaning to get to it,” Geno called out. His eyes narrowed when Reaper set the bowls in the sink and there was no clattering of plates. “Did you do the dishes?”

He shrugged. “I had the time and I knew you were probably stressing out about it.” He sat back down next to Geno.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Reaper pulled the blanket burrito that was now Geno closer to him and the man leaned into the touch. “I had the time and I knew you were stressing out about it,” he repeated.

“Thank you,” he put his head on Reaper’s chest and then frowned. “You’re so cold.”

“I’m death, I don’t know what you were expecting.”

Geno huffed a laugh and played another episode.

A couple of hours later, Reaper made the motions of getting up, Maxwell had already headed to the bedroom, and it was getting late. “Well, I should get you to bed,” Reaper said.

Geno groaned and stretched, his blanket falling down to reveal his chest and one of the deep scars from his many surgeries.

“Tomorrow I’ll stop by with lunch and see how you’re doing,” Reaper said, grabbing his jacket and putting it on.

“I have lunch here,” Geno said.

“Your fridge is empty.”

They shrugged. “There’s apples. I can have one for lunch.”

Reaper stared at him dead-on. “You are not having an apple for lunch. I will pick up sandwiches.”

Geno sighed but leaned his head on Reaper’s shoulder when he picked them up. The bedroom was pitch black now, and Reaper had to try and flick a wall light on without dropping his partner. He set Geno down on the edge of the bed and the man readjusted his blanket. Then he looked at the bed and frowned.

Geno caught watching him and shook his head. “It’s nothing. You should get home.”

“Rose, your apartment is like, 40 feet away, I have time.”

Geno cringed. “The bed sheets are sweaty and gross, that’s all. But it’s fine. I feel a lot better, I can change them tomorrow.”

“Or I can change them today,” Reaper said, already moving the pillows out of the way.

“Reaper, no, you’ve done enough already,” Geno protested.

“You need rest and you aren’t going to sleep well on sweaty sheets,” he made no move to stop.

“Help me off of the bed at least so I’m not in your way.” Reaper helped Geno down to the floor and Maxwell quickly joined him. Geno softened immediately, cooing and scratching behind the cat's ears.

Reaper stripped the bed quickly, placing the sheets on the dryer in the other room. “Where do you keep your other set?” he called out.

“In the closet with the blankets. Grab the black ones.”

Reaper found them and began remaking the bed. “How often do you have to deal with all this?” he asked.

Geno cringed. There it was. Reaper was starting to realize how much it took to take care of him. Soon he’d understand just how much maintenance came with the package that was Geno, and he’d turn heel and run. “Usually I won’t go a month without a couple of bad days.”

Reaper nodded. “Let me know next time, okay? I’m never busy enough to not be able to help.”

“I’ve been getting by on my own pretty well—Oh, put the softer one first, please—I don’t need your help all the time.”

Reaper spread out the blanket. “I know you can take care of yourself—I’ve never questioned that. You’re one of the most independent people I know. I’m just saying you don’t have to. I’m here and I want to help.”

Geno was silent. You’ll get tired of me, he almost said. You’ll resent me for making you do this, he wanted to say. But Reaper kept making their bed, and it was only until after he was done that Geno snapped out of their thoughts. By then, too much time had passed to pick off where the conversation had ended.

“Anything else you need?” Reaper asked.

Geno shook his head. “No, you’ve done more than enough.”

Reaper twitched but didn’t say anything. They were both too tired for any kind of argument. Instead, he helped Geno into bed.

“It was my pleasure,” he said. “Really. Anytime you need something, just call. I’m a hallway away.”

He kissed Geno gently and then pulled away. “I’m glad I got to see you, Rose. I’ll stop by tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Geno said a little starstruck as Reaper flicked the lights off and left his bedroom.

After he heard the apartment door close, he fell back, not getting under the covers quite yet. They threw the blanket that had been wrapped around them off, taking in the cool air of the apartment.

For a brief, tiny second, he hoped Reaper would come back, having left something in the apartment or bedroom. But the clock ticked with no interruption or sound, and Reaper was probably getting back to his work.

“This is bad, Geno.” They said out loud.

Reaper had paused to kiss him goodnight and Geno had almost pulled him into his bed. In the moment of a chaste kiss, Geno decided he trusted Reaper wholly.

You’re going to get your heart broken, Geno, he told himself. You’ll just drag him down, and when he realizes that, you’re done for.

They ignored the small tear that trailed down their face at that thought. He pulled himself, wiping their eyes. Geno tucked himself under the blankets and plugged his phone in. The screen lit up, revealing a message from Reaper:

*Sleep well, my rose <3