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everything hurts except for you

Notes:

Remember how there was a gap between The Witch and The Deliverance (or somewhere in them) where Arthur is recovering in the witch's caves? This is happening there.

I have made a pact with myself to only post finished works after that fiasco with the one other thing I posted here... So while I've got two wips my Malevolent brainrot made me do this...

/not beta read, we die like Arthur was supposed to multiple times but somehow does not

the title is from 'Sunday Morning' by Ethel Cain

this is very awkward but I hope you enjoy... xx

Work Text:

Every minute, it seemed, John was checking Arthur’s breathing. Exhale, inhale. All good. Then he drifted in anxious thought, writhing in his mind like the damned maggots that upset Arthur so much. He still couldn’t erase the picture of them in his friend’s wrecked stomach, infesting his entrails. He forced the memory away.

 

Arthur had been revived only a few hours prior. Yorick was silent, thank god for that, but, honestly, John could perhaps use a distraction. But he suspected he would be frantically searching for Arthur’s breathing anyway.

 

Then Arthur woke up screaming.

 

Arthur, what, Arthur , you’re okay, here, we’re safe.

 

John kept trying to calm him down, off-handedly wishing he could embrace him, to offer some comfort beyond his words. Some warmth that could be felt. Then he got an idea.

 

Manifesting out of Arthur’s body would probably (and most likely) weaken the man, but…

 

Arthur kept moaning and reaching his hands.

 

Fuck it. 

 

John wished with all his being to hold Arthur, and… he did. 

 

It felt like being made of wind, of cold air that somehow kept his form. He knew not what that form even was, something resembling human, he hoped. He barely felt the touch at all, but it was there: an ephemeral whisper of a feeling.

 

Arthur, I’m here, you’re alive.

 

Arthur stopped screaming. “What… John?” He spun his head around. “John… I feel something… Tell me, what do you see?!”

 

I’m sorry, Arthur. It’s me.

 

John released his hold on Arthur and stepped back into their… his body. It seemed to make no difference to Arthur’s state, John suspected by the silence that followed. Arthur just stared in front of him, to the ceiling. Which meant John did, too.

 

“John?”

 

Mm?

 

“What was that?” Arthur’s tone was soft, inquisitive, without reproach. 

 

Um. I… may have manifested out of your body. For a short while.

 

Arthur inhaled through his teeth. “Why?”

 

John could not bring himself to say it. The visceral need to hold. To comfort. To protect. To save. How could he explain it? He supposed he was already doing it in his mind, but to voice it to Arthur… 

 

“John…?”

 

But what if Arthur took it differently? Thought of John taking control, taking advantage of his poor state. The fear of that way outweighed the embarrassment and confusion of the truth.

 

You… were screaming. I tried calming you down, but it didn’t work. So I manifested… to hold you. 

 

John waited, holding his breath. Metaphorically.

 

“Ah… All right,” Arthur said quietly. John could swear the intonation of Arthur’s voice was the same as when he spoke to animals. Kind.

 

I’m so-

 

“No, John. It worked, didn’t it? You have nothing to be sorry for. Unless you… regret it.”

 

I don’t! I- I don’t regret it. But you could have been weakened by what I did.

 

“But I wasn’t,” Arthur replied immediately. “It’s all right, John. I think I’m going to sleep some more, if you don’t mind.”

 

Of course, Arthur. Sleep well.

 

 

Next time Arthur woke up, he did not scream. John had been listening to his breathing, afraid he might not take the next inhale. And then he did, and the relief replaced fear replaced relief. Over and over. Until his breathing twitched and he opened his groggy eyes.

 

Good morning, Arthur, are you okay?

 

“Mmm,” Arthur yawned as he stirred, shaking the sleep away. “I am, yes. Hello, John.” His voice was sweet. John wanted to taste it to see if it truly was.

 

Hello. How do you feel? 

 

Arthur moved his neck that popped a few times as he did so. “Um… A bit better? Hard to tell. I don’t think I can stand up properly yet, I can barely move my arms.” He stirred and moaned painfully, and then chuckled. “No, I’m afraid not.” John did not like his self-deprecating tone.

 

Arthur. It’s not your fault you need time to recover. You literally died. You need rest. 

 

“Yes, yes, John, I know.”

 

Do you?

 

Arthur hummed and closed his eyes. He seemed so small. Arthur wasn’t a huge man as it was, but, in that moment especially, John wished to wrap him up and shield him from all the horrors, the ones they’d seen, and the ones they’d yet to experience. And there sure were going to be plenty.

 

John moved their hand, which brushed against Arthur’s thigh. He can’t say it was accidental. Arthur seemed like he wasn’t paying attention, either asleep or plunged in his thought. 

 

So John did it again, more intention this time. He gently stroked Arthur’s thigh with his fingers, simply first, then as if drawing unknowable patterns. John held his tongue, so as to not make an embarrassing sound, ready to stop whenever he would be told to (which in his mind could be any second now). However, Arthur did not say or do anything for a while.

 

“John?”

 

Fuck. John stopped his movements. Yes, Arthur?

 

“Can you… try that again?” John did not expect that. He sounded… sad? Hopeful? Afraid? John could not make out the way Arthur’s voice thinned and twitched and creaked with emotion, so full of it yet almost imperceptible.

 

Try what?

 

Full for John, for he cared enough to pay attention to the intricate details with which Arthur’s mouth made sound. 

 

Arthur hesitated. He swallowed dryly, and nearly whispered, “Manifesting out of our body.”

 

Uh? Um… I.. Wha-

 

Embarrassing. John was at a complete loss. 

 

Why would you… Want that? Is this about you feeling not strong enough again? Arthur, I will not lea-

 

“No, no, John.” Arthur was smiling. “I wasn’t even thinking about that. I just want to know if it affects me as much as it did when we were at the Order of the Fallen Star…”

 

And what if it does? I don’t want to hurt you, you are barely alive as it is.

 

“But what if you don’t? I don’t think it hurt me when you did it the last time. It could be helpful, could it not?”

 

I cannot see right now how that would be helpful in any way, Arthur. 

 

Arthur seemed to deflate. He stayed silent.

 

John was overwhelmingly confused. He had been… letting his emotions get the best of him, when he’d done that. His… feelings for Arthur. The urge to be there for him. It was one of the few reasons he would try and do that again.

 

“I want to touch you,” Arthur said quietly. “Like you did that last time.” John could almost feel the blush on Arthur’s face. “If- if I feel weaker, I will say right away so you can stop, I just…”

 

All right. 

 

“Really? I’m… Okay. Yes. Right.”

 

But you will tell me if you so much as feel even a little bit off, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.

 

“I know, I know. I will.” Arthur sounded happier, content, somehow. Like a child that talked their parents into getting them something they really wanted. John found it adorable, somewhere in the back of his soul, hidden under the worry and apprehension that swarmed in his mind.

 

He focused on that. Tried to brush off most the worry, leaving just the healthy amount. Right, Arthur. Touch him. Hold him. Arthur froze and squeezed his eyes as if waiting for it to be painful. John wanted to prove to him it would not be.

 

“Are you… doing it?” Came Arthur’s thin voice.

 

Not yet. I need to… focus. So fucking embarrassing. 

 

“Take your time,” Arthur uttered softly, sweetly through a smile. His eyes relaxed but stayed closed, and John’s metaphorical heart unwrapped itself in serpentine circles.

 

He held on to this feeling and somehow there he was, his hand on Arthur’s cheek.

 

“John…?”

 

Yes, Arthur.  

 

Arthur’s breath hitched. “I can feel you. You feel like wind, but a little more solid,” he whispered, his eyes open once again.

 

It dawned upon John: he could see Arthur. Not a reflection, not through the man’s eyes. With John’s eyes, he could see him. Arthur. His amber eyes and the expression of curious wonder on his face. How his body could hold so many contradictions: fragile and strong, broken and whole, impatient and resilient. 

 

Arthur, you are beautiful.  

 

Arthur huffed. “No I’m not.” John kept stroking Arthur’s cheek. 

 

Oh, but you are. John carefully pulled a bit more strength into himself, focusing for a second on becoming more solid, all the while observing Arthur’s face for any signs of discomfort. Are you feeling all right? I mean-

 

“Yes, John. I feel no different than before you manifested… in terms of physical weakness, that is.”

 

Interesting. John smiled and wrapped his arms around Arthur, trying to carefully lift him up. Arthur grabbed onto him shakily, and… his hands did not go through John. He was solid and immaterial, ephemeral yet able to be touched.

 

“It’s been so long since I held another…” Arthur was pensive, as if talking to himself. He stroked John’s shoulders absentmindedly. John just held him, decidedly not nuzzling Arthur’s head with his own. Absolutely not.

 

John felt Arthur open his mouth as if to speak, but words did not come out for a while. Eventually, Arthur spoke: “I’m glad it’s you.”

 

Uh… What?

 

“I am glad it’s you I am holding. And not… someone else.”

 

John turned his head and placed a hungry kiss in the crook of Arthur’s neck. He had little to no knowledge of human displays of affection, but he knew what a kiss meant, so… He did that. As best as he could. He could hear Arthur’s scandalised expressions, even though the man stayed silent. 

 

John turned away, shamefully thinking of retreating back into Arthur’s body, when he heard, “Do that again.”

 

What? Are you… sure?

 

“Yes.” Arthur sounded… off. Like he’d never sounded before in John’s presence. Pained? No, he knew what Arthur in pain sounded like. That was different.

 

Ah, fuck it. John kissed Arthur’s neck again, gentler this time. He made a decision not to dwell on what he was doing, just express his feelings with his movements. He licked and sucked and pecked below Arthur’s ear, and it felt cathartic. Like he had always wanted to do this. It did not feel quite like regular physical touch; as if the action had an ethereal cloak over it, which did not necessarily hinder it, just… made it slightly strange. 

 

And then Arthur moaned. 

 

John was caught off-guard completely. He pulled back to look at Arthur, to see if he was in pain. Arthur, are you all right? Did I do something wrong-

 

“No!” Arthur averted his eyes and turned slightly away, which made no sense, it’s not like he could see. “No, John, it’s all right. I’m f-fine. 

 

Then why did you sound like that? Are you sure you’re not in pain?

 

“John…” Arthur sounded embarrassed. “It’s… not from pain. I was just… enjoying what you were doing maybe a little too much.” His face looked like he’d just eaten a whole lemon, but he smiled when he finished. 

 

Ah… The gears in John’s brain clicked. Jesus, I am so stupid…

 

Arthur laughed. John laughed, too. “I can’t- I can’t believe this,” Arthur said between shallow breaths. “John, I-“

 

John leaned down and kissed Arthur on the mouth, shutting him up. He did not intend to linger, but when he moved to pull away, Arthur did not let him, pulling him back by his shoulder. Or whatever it was he had where a shoulder was supposed to be. Arthur was kissing him softly, gently, but John could feel him trembling. He wanted to make Arthur feel safe, and he didn’t care that they were in some obscure cave in XIII century England and Arthur had just been brought back from the dead. He Should Be Safe. Always. John cursed his lack of physical body, it would have been a lot handier to have one. 

 

This time, Arthur was the one to pull away to catch some air. John admired his flushed face. Arthur, I will always be with you.

 

“John…”

 

I choose you. 

 

“John, I-“

 

I love you.

 

Arthur closed his eyes and tugged at John’s shoulder to bring him closer, so that John was practically lying flat on top of Arthur. “I love you, too,” he whispered. 

 

They were utterly still like that for how long, John hadn’t the slightest idea. He was listening to Arthur’s breath and heartbeat, and all was well. 

 

Arthur? John tried to be as quiet as he could in case the man was asleep.

 

“Mmm?” He wasn’t. 

 

I’m going to return to your body, okay?

 

“Sure, John.” Arthur sounded sleepy.

 

With a single concentrated thought John was back within Arthur, looking through his eyes. Arthur sighed and closed them, falling asleep.

 

 

John felt some motion and stirred, adjusting his vision. Did he… sleep? He heard a muffled sound that his brain soon recognised as,

 

“John? Are you all right?”

 

Uh… I… He wasn’t sure. I think so?

 

Arthur took their left hand in his right. “Oh, thank God. I woke up a few minutes back and couldn’t reach you… I think, you were asleep.” He was smiling. “You kept worrying about me being weakened by your manifestation, but it’s you who ended up completely exhausted. So much that you learned how to sleep, at last!”

 

John stared blankly at their hands for a moment. Then he started laughing.

 

Arthur laughed, too.

 

“We’re all right, John. We’ll be fine,” Arthur stated as their laughter died down.

 

Of course, Arthur. Of course.