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Clara wasn’t sure how or when the relationship between the Bachelor and the Haruspex had deteriorated so much. She knew, of course, that the demons stood for opposite —if equally destructive— ideals, but she figured that such a disagreement would only result in, at most, them refusing to work together. In fact, she would have said that with the town in such a state, neither of them would have time for such passionate hatred, chasing each other into and out of abandoned houses every day looking to shed the other’s blood…
But apparently she was wrong, and they must not have been as busy as she was, because there they went again.
It wasn’t that she wanted them dead, but she could really use the money and medicine they seemed to have in spades, and, well… surprisingly, neither of them had died so far. Or even seemed particularly badly injured, despite having met in arms more than a few times already. At most they’d sported a black eye or a few ugly scratches.
Clara guessed they were both really really bad at fighting.
Today, she had set out to do the routine warning to both of them. But she’d made a mistake, and she didn’t realize this until she was in the grocery shop afterwards, spending Dankovsky’s money.
The moment she’d read the Inquisitor’s letter, she’d known exactly what house she was referring to. She’d come to know the town intimately, and there was only one house in the Hindquarters fitting the description she gave. So she’d gone looking for the Bachelor first, since she was already in the Mouth anyway, and sold Burakh’s location to him as she’d normally do.
And only now, with her newly acquired jerky in her pockets, did she remember that she hadn’t warned the Haruspex about the incoming threat.
Again, it wasn’t exactly that she was worried about one of them finally dying. But… she’d hate to miss out on the money from Burakh’s supposed rescue. Besides, they usually expected each other, but if Dankovsky, with his silent steps and shockingly good aim, were to find Burakh with his back turned…
She cursed, and took off running towards the Hindquarters.
#
Dankovsky wasn’t sure how or when his relationship with the Haruspex had come to this. It’d been polite at first, and then tense, and then murderous. And now…
Well. Not that he was complaining.
He would have preferred not to involve the Changeling at all if possible, but he couldn’t go out to search for Burakh without wasting so much time that it’d render his day useless, and besides, Clara’s intervention proved to be a good alibi for them, regardless of however the hell she had figured out both of their hiding spots every single day for almost a week now.
He kept his revolver in hand as he stalked through the burnt streets, on the lookout for looters, but he managed to sneak into the correct house before spotting any.
Dankovsky closed the door behind him as quietly as he could and stayed still for a few moments, but no one seemed to come out to greet him. He focused, and thought he heard steps on the first floor.
Carefully, he walked up the stairs and approached the room where the small clinking sounds were coming from. He spotted Burakh bent over what seemed to be several small bottles, away from his shotgun and, more importantly, facing away from the door.
Dankovsky slowly crept towards the Haruspex until he could press his revolver against his back.
Burakh froze.
“Miss me?” Dankovsky asked, a small, self satisfied smile seeping into his voice.
Burakh slowly, carefully rose from his crouch and turned around until the gun was pressed against his chest and he was looking straight at him. Dankovsky let him.
He wrapped his hand around the barrel of the gun and gently tore it from Dankovsky’s grip, setting it on the table behind him without looking away from his eyes.
“Yes”, he breathed.
And Dankovsky didn’t wait any longer than that to lunge for his mouth, pulling on the front of his smock to yank him down to kissing height.
The violence of the movement made their faces crash into each other's in a way that felt more like a headbutt than a kiss, and left them both groaning, but neither pulled back.
Burakh grabbed both flaps of his coat where they hung open around his waist and pulled towards himself roughly, pressing their chests flush together, and wrapped his arms around Dankovsky’s back to keep him there.
Dankovsky didn’t know what it was about this man that had made him able to forget his hatred so quickly, but once they had started meeting like this, he had simply found himself unable to stop. Whenever he’d have an occasion he’d take it without hesitation, and even sometimes he’d been visited by the Haruspex while working himself. Whatever insane, unhinged, and unspoken arrangement they had right now, was one of the most profoundly satisfying of Dankovsky’s life so far.
Burakh’s mouth started trailing not-quite-bites down his neck, and soon enough he tried to shove aside his cravat when he found it instead of more skin. Dankovsky rushed to unpin it, because last time Burakh had nearly torn the fabric.
With a grunt, the Haruspex pulled back to stare as he pocketed the pin and undid his cravat.
“I don’t even know why you still wear that thing”.
“You should be glad, considering your biting habit, that I have something to at least partially cover my neck”.
He carelessly threw the offending item on the table and, before he could get back to business, Burakh pushed him back several steps, until his back hit the wall.
“Brute”, Dankovsky murmured, a bit lightheaded.
Burakh hummed. “As if you don’t love it”.
And with that, his mouth was busy again.
Dankovsky tried his best to keep from moaning, but couldn’t fully stop every little whine that escaped him at the Haruspex’s attentions at the base of his neck. He fisted Burakh’s hair and pulled, in the way he knew by now made him groan. He would have loved to undo Burakh’s top in the way he was now unbuttoning his waistcoat, but he still had no clue how that smock of his worked. Dankovsky had a personal vendetta against the thing, at this point.
He felt Burakh’s hand, that had at some point snaked down from his waist, grab a generous handful of his ass, and squeeze. Mechanically, and this time with a proper moan, his hips snapped forward to crash against Burakh’s, who in turn pressed him against the wall again, with their hips still flush together.
Burakh left Dankovsky’s neck to return to his mouth, which he was only too grateful for. Blood rushed in his ears, and he wasted no time in dragging Burakh’s bottom lip between his teeth and biting it roughly, making Burakh moan.
Dankovsky untangled one of his hands from Burakh’s hair and somehow managed to fit it in between their bodies to press his palm against the front of Burakh’s pants. He inhaled sharply, and as Dankovsky moved to cup him through his pants, Burakh deepened the kiss again, shoving his tongue deep into his mouth.
And then they both heard a gasp.
#
Clara had expected almost anything upon arriving here. Maybe the Haruspex still alone, maybe the Bachelor alone after the Haruspex had fled, maybe one or both of them strewn about the floor in pieces like broken toys…
She could confidently say she had not expected to find them pressed flat together, with their hands in very compromising places, both staring at her looking absolutely dumbfounded and with a single string of saliva connecting their mouths.
Clara knew what sex was. She wasn’t a child, thank you very much. What she couldn’t figure out was why on earth the Bachelor and the Haruspex were having it instead of killing each other.
Had they…? Was this the first time this happened? Was this why they were buying information from her all along?
The three of them stayed like that, her staring at them in shock and confusion and horror, and them staring at her in shock and confusion and horror, until the Bachelor’s eyes flashed to the table to his right.
Clara rapidly decided that whatever was going to happen next, she didn’t want to see it. She went to turn around, but—
In a flash of movement, Dankovsky lunged for the table, and within less than a second was aiming his revolver right at her.
“Stop! Don’t go anywhere”, he shakily yelled.
Clara raised her hands in alarm and stayed where she was.
She heard Burakh’s distressed “What the hell are you doing” at the same time as she shrieked “Are you goddamn insane?!”, but the Bachelor didn’t look up from her.
“She can’t—” he tried, interrupting himself to audibly swallow. “Listen, I— I know we have our differences, and— we might not see eye to eye all the time, but you must know that I’m doing good here, right? You know I’m trying to help”.
Clara was incredibly lost, and judging by Burakh’s face, he was as well.
“What—”
“So” Dankovsky continued, undeterred, and starting to look a little desperate, “you can’t tell anyone, okay? I’m not gonna— but you can’t tell anyone. It won’t happen again, alright? I promise—”
“Whoa, what?” Burakh intervened. “Why the—”
“Shut up! Oh my god!” Clara interrupted quickly, made to feel a new emotion at the idea of hearing what these two had to say about their ‘meetings’. “I won’t tell anyone, geez! Calm down!”
Dankovsky slowly lowered the gun. Once it was pointed at the floor, she finally put her arms back down. A few seconds of tense silence passed between them.
“…I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, anyway” she muttered, perhaps risking her newly acquired freedom from imminent death, but she felt she’d earned it at this point. “You really aren’t that important in the big scheme of things. Are you worried that Maria Kaina might get jealous or what?”
Dankovsky stared at her dumbfounded. Behind him, the Haruspex raised an eyebrow.
“You’re kidding, right? Clara, what little influence I have right now is entirely because I have the ruling families’ favor, which would certainly end if it were to come out that— that I’m a homosexual”.
Clara blinked.
“A home— what? Don’t throw your fancy capital words at me, Bachelor. They don’t impress me”.
Dankovsky gaped.
“Wait, is that what you were so worried about?” Burakh intervened, stepping forward to look at him. “I thought you were just embarrassed because you were supposed to be working, or something”.
Dankovsky looked like he’d been picked up from the scruff of his neck and dropped in a foreign country.
“Wh— huh?” was all he mustered. He was starting to turn the same shade of red as his cravat— which, Clara regretted to notice, he wasn’t wearing anymore.
“It’s not a bad thing here, oynon”.
“I know it’s not a bad thing” Dankovsky seethed, narrowing his eyes. “But I also know how people generally feel about it, and if the Kains were to be part of those, I’d be left no better than the poor folks asphyxiating in the streets”.
Burakh looked unimpressed. “It’s not that big a deal, I’m telling you”.
“Well of course it’s not a big deal to you!” Dankovsky suddenly shouted. His face was positively burning now. “You already don’t have anyone’s favor! What have you got to lose?! You’re cooped up all day mixing your little concoctions in your den—”
“Sometimes”, the Haruspex interrupted him, making meaningful eye contact, “I’m cooped up all day mixing my ‘little concoctions’ in abandoned, burnt-through houses, even though it’s a lot more inconvenient, just to make it a bit easier for you to find me and—”
“Stop!! Seriously! Oh my god!” she shouted again. She had known they were vindictive and hateful and destructive but she hadn’t expected them to also be so… indulgent. “I won’t tell anyone! I don’t even know what that word means! Can I leave now?”
“Yes”, they both said in unison, not looking away from the other. Clara made a face as if she’d just stepped on a slug while barefoot. Just for that, she decided to get one last in.
“Maybe”, she said as she turned around, “if you have so much free time, you could consider dedicating it to, you know, tending to the sick? We’re not exactly drowning in help, you know”.
They didn’t reply, as she knew they wouldn’t, and she promptly walked downstairs and exited the house, wiping her hands on her jacket after touching the doorknob. Who knew what they’d done with it.
#
Burakh wasn’t sure how or when the Changeling had found out about them. Though on second thought, from the face she’d made that day, he could garner the when, actually.
The next time she stepped in the abandoned house where he was working, she didn’t beat around the bush when she made her offer.
“I know where he is”, she deadpanned, and extended her hand.
It took Burakh a few seconds to bring himself to look her in the eyes, and the tips of his ears reddened as he did. He had done his best to hide it, but he’d been terribly embarrassed to be found out messing with a lover in secret, as if he’d been the teenager instead of her.
She clearly didn’t want to talk about it either, but she apparently didn’t find it in herself to pretend like it hadn’t happened at all.
“Alright” he said, reaching into his pocket for the handful of pills he kept there for this exact purpose.
She quickly withdrew her hand halfway to her chest. “That won’t do. I want something bigger”.
“Bigger?” he repeated, pills still in his hand. Her eyes said what her mouth didn’t. Since I know what you’re going to use this information for…
He sighed. “What do you want?”
“Panacea” she didn’t hesitate to say. “I know you have it”.
He should have guessed. “I can’t do that, I’m sorry. I don’t have spares”.
“You don’t— well then make more!” She ordered petulantly, stamping her foot down.
He placed his free hand on his hip. “Great idea, genius. The key ingredient is really scarce, and I’m still figuring out how to get more”.
She ground her teeth together. “Maybe you would have figured it out already if you weren’t too busy putting your hands on the Bachelor!”
Despite him, he felt his face grow hot. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds like I’m… He started it”.
She took a step back, wearing her best grossed out teen look. “I don’t want to know who started it! I just want panacea!”
He sighed again. “Okay, look… I’ll do it. But only one, and only today— don’t get your hopes up for tomorrow”.
“Really? Yeah, alright” she quickly agreed, her previous frustrations immediately forgotten. Only once she’d told him what he wanted to know and the precious bottle was well in her grasp, did she add:
“Already planning for tomorrow, huh? I’ll make sure not to be late; wouldn’t want your dinner plans to be ruined”.
And the she slipped away again.
Burakh sighed from where he’d already started packing up his things. Yeah, alright, if this was the worst he was going to have to endure because of his relations with the Bachelor, he could take it. And it only made him feel a bit guilty that he was slightly comforted by the idea of Dankovsky getting the same kind of comments. He’d make sure to ask him later.