Work Text:
It hits him like a ton of bricks, or perhaps something similar to Herta’s hammer.
Oh.
Oh.
And he feels like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.
△
He’s curled up in their too soft bed, lying on his side. Laying with him, Ru happily meows in his sleep, tail tucked into his too-soft shell and one paw out, resting on Veritas’s chest. As the critter snores away, he idly flicks through the photos on his phone, recounting the events behind the images.
It has been an eventful holiday season, that was for sure. There were a few bumps, but mainly everything had been an overall positive experience. Some things he’d rather never do again—like attend the Society’s baking competition—but some things he wouldn’t mind repeating with Screwllum. Make it a yearly kind of ordeal, a tradition really.
A…tradition.
Tradition…
Oh.
Oh.
It’s not a new observation, Screwllum’s interest in traditions. He had been noticing it recently, with all their holiday celebrations. It seemed like Screwllum wanted to approach the matter, but refrained from doing so. And…he understands why.
Though they have been together for some time, they do not really discuss their relationship. Not the details and the nitty gritty of it at least. It's just…those little things that weren't them. They saw the world through scientific and academic lenses and both of them were guilty of avoiding topics that couldn’t be seen through those lenses.
Traditions.
He has his own private ones, ones that are thousands of years old. Some he had shared with Screwllum, brushing them off as just something he’s always done—a tradition without naming it that—and some he has kept to himself. It’s just that…
He sighs out loud, running his hands over Ru’s too-soft shell.
Personal traditions, those are fine. But what Screwllum wants—and what he admittedly wants as well—are traditions that they partake in…together.
It’s a more realized version of their relationship. A promise of a long, loving relationship.
And he wants that, he really really does, but—
“Question: Credit for your thoughts?”
“They are too tumultuous to even be worth a single credit.” With great care to not disturb Ru, he turns to face Screwllum, who is standing by his side of the bed.
“I would like to hear them anyway, if you are willing to share. Your thoughts will always be something I want to hear.”
“Do you really want to start traditions with me?” Screwllum’s eyes flicker sharply. Surprise.
“I do. I…I was planning on approaching the matter with you sometime soon, but it seems you have beaten me to the matter. Query: Was I that obvious? I thought that perhaps I had been subtle about my interest.” He nods, reaching out for Screwllum’s hand. The aristocrat is quick to climb into the bed, taking his hand. But instead of simply holding it, he pulls Veritas forward, moving him to rest on Screwllum’s chest as he reclines against the headboard. He is not surprised when Screwllum brings his face to press into his hair.
“You’ve been both subtle and not so subtle. But…traditions…they are yearly things, Screwllum, and the ones that you have not so subtly expressed interest in keeping as tradition, they require us to be here or other specific locations. And Screwllum, I…I cannot guarantee I will be here, or there, every year though. I do not know where my work will take me and I cannot, will not, leave to come back here to look at the lights with you. I do love the Screwllumites, and you, but my work, it will always come first. I…I’m sorry if that sounds mean or cruel, but my mission, my work, it will always be the most important thing to me.” Screwllum nods, keeping his face pressed into Veritas’s hair. He watches as Screwllum’s thumb rubs in small circles on the top of his hand.
“I know, dear Veritas, and I would never think of asking you to do such a thing. Should an agreement of traditions be made between us, and one of us is not available to meet at the required or destined location, I do not see how a phone call would not be acceptable. ‘It is the thought that counts’, I believe the saying goes? Notions like letting me down need not even enter your mind, my dear doctor. We will find ways.” He sighs and clenches his hand tighter in Screwllum’s sweater.
“You think you know me so well, don’t you?” His words are muffled, caught in his throat. He’s not crying, he’s just tired.
“Answer: I would argue I am one of the foremost knowledgeable beings on the man that is Dr. Veritas Ratio. He is my partner, after all.” He laughs, a watery sound.
As his laughter fades away, silence falls between them, the only noise being Ru’s snores.
“...it is mundane, is it not? Traditions like these.” Screwllum hums in response, raising a hand to card his fingers through Veritas’s hair.
“It is. I would posit that traditions are one of the most mundane things a person can do. They are a part of our day to day life, something we all do, no matter what planet we come from or live on. Of course, these traditions may be small, inconsequential things or grandiose and bright, but they are commonplace amongst all people. We—us Screwllumites—did not have traditions for the longest time, and now we do. I…I find that I do not mind becoming mundane with you, even if it is a little at a time until the day that we find ourselves with nothing left to do but become a part of the mundane society.”
“...I would like that.” He looks up at Screwllum, who pulls away from pressing his face into Veritas’s hair and now looks at him with eyes that are flickering at various speeds. “I would really like that, Mr. Screwllum. I…not now, not for a long time, but in the future, I would like to become mundane with you. However, for now, I will remain a Mundanite.”
“I look forward to that day, Mr. Ratio, no matter how far away it is.” He grins, but he knows it’s weak.
“Until then…I wouldn’t mind…a few traditions. Perhaps a few to start and then we can add more? I…not too many, I don’t want to disappoint you.” Screwllum shakes his head, raising his ungloved hand to cup his cheek and rub his thumb along his no-doubt ruddy skin.
“Affirmation: You could never disappoint me, beloved Veritas. Do not think that you can.” He nods and leans up just a little to press his lips to Screwllum’s cool cheek.
“Tomorrow…let us reconvene on this topic tomorrow and we can discuss what traditions you would like to keep and then we can confer on what to select as the first few to repeat next year. The Guild posts five years of academic calendars at a time, so I should be able to provide some dates I will not be able to visit.” Screwllum hums, pulling him closer with a hand on his waist. With some careful maneuvering, they find themselves laying down.
“I would like that, Veritas. Screwllita and I are meeting in two weeks time to go over the calendar for the next year, so I will be able to work time off into my schedule. I do believe our traditions also aligning with several of Planet Screwllum’s holidays will work in our favor as well.” There’s pride in Screwllum’s voice, something that makes Veritas’s heart flutter.
“We can discuss this in the morning, but if the dates allow for it, and they want me back, I don’t mind being a judge for the lighting completion again. If I want to attend the street fair will remain open until the day of, however.” He gets a happy little hum in response.
“I believe the Screwllumites will be happy to hear that. That is one tradition I would like to keep. I enjoyed that night very much.” He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t refute Screwllum’s words.
“Tomorrow then? I will think on the matter as well.”
“Tomorrow. For now, it is time for you to sleep. I do believe Ru is getting restless and Little Screw and Dignitas have been glaring at us for quite some time.” He huffs and lifts himself up a little to see the two critters staring at them.
“That is your fault for letting them in the bed. Now they want it every night.” Screwllum laughs and turns to beckon the little critters up to the bed. With happy meows, they bounce on over, crying out until Screwllum picks them up and puts them in the bed. Once Screwllum has them both up, he places them in between them as Veritas turns to pick up Ru.
“It is a tradition, after all. We must see it through.”
“It’s called a bad habit, Mr. Screwllum.” Screwllum hums, waving his hand to turn off the lights.
“I am quite fond of those as well.” He rolls his eyes, knowing Screwllum can see it.
“Of course you are. You are fond of many things you shouldn’t be. Something we can discuss in the morning as well.” A hand caresses his face and he sighs as he settles into his pillow.
“Anything you want, dear Veritas. For now though, rest well my dear.” He closes his eyes, hand reaching out for Screwllum’s.
“Rest well, Screwllum.”