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Percy is making breakfast (it isn’t bringing back bad memories). He makes pancake batter from scratch, lays bacon on the griddle Vax had found boxed up at the back of the pantry (and Percy doesn’t think of making breakfast Before, of the discomfort that cooking for her brought him, of that seed of panic that nags at him as he pours out two perfect batter circles). Vax has had to take care of him so much recently that the least Percy could do is make breakfast.
The soft patter of bare feet on the wood floor catches Percy’s attention over the hissing of the griddle, but he doesn’t turn toward it. He knows who it is, and feels safe enough to leave his back to Vax (despite the cold fear that washes over him for a split second as he remembers her approaching, footsteps quiet but not silent; Vax quickly learned not to sneak up on Percy for any reason at all).
“Breakfast?” Vax asks, voice still sleep-soft and mumbling. “You spoil me, Percy.”
Percy turns just enough so that Vax can see his smile, then flips the pancakes (he’d never smiled when she had been around, had always been more worried about what kind of mood she was in). Vax comes to stand beside Percy (not too close, Percy doesn’t like it when people stand Too Close), a comforting presence while he watches Percy work his magic. It does have magic in it, he knows, because Percy helps run Keyleth’s shop and is always bringing home little pouches of interesting new dusts and herbs they ordered. Since Percy doesn’t usually cook Vax always ends up trying them out to see what happens (and only once has it blown up in his face, but the outright distress that caused Percy made Vax much more cautious with the unfamiliar ingredients).
“I figured breakfast was a start,” Percy says as he plates the bacon and cracks a couple eggs. “How do you take your eggs?”
Vax shrugs. “I like scrambled just fine.”
Percy nods and sets about preparing it (scrambled eggs are safe, she’d always taken hers over easy, had despised scrambled eggs). He works efficiently, the pancakes finding their plates and the eggs quickly following. He likes cooking, he does, but sometimes it’s just too much (sometimes Percy will set up his plate to look like hers and feel his breath catch in his throat; sometimes he lets the bacon sit for longer than he likes because she’d preferred crispy-almost-burnt and his chest tightens).
Vax takes the plates from Percy and leads the way to the table (this part is okay, he’d never made himself breakfast when she had hers, had always eaten either before or not at all).
Percy collects the coffee Vax had set to percolate and makes sure to bring the milk and creamer, because Vax can’t stand coffee if it actually tastes like coffee. He pours himself a tall glass of milk and they sit across from each other.
A smile creeps into Vax’s face as they sit facing one another. “You really didn’t have to make breakfast,” he says.
“I wanted to,” Percy says. “You take care of me so often, and I supposed it was time I help take care of you.”
The smile softens, Vax looking gorgeous and radiant in the gentle morning light (Percy aches, but it isn’t painful, for once). “I could get used to this,” Vax says.
(Percy wants to say that if Vax wants, he can stay forever. Percy wants to tell Vax that they could have breakfast together every single morning and Vax could sleep in Percy’s bed and they could curl together and talk about everything and nothing and that he loves him, that Percy loves him so much, more than anything.)
“Breakfast is my specialty,” Percy says instead.
Vax gets a weird look on his face, like he’s thinking of saying something Percy might not like. It makes Percy feel awful, that Vax has to watch his words so carefully for fear of setting him off. “Did you,” Vax pauses. He huffs. “Did you used to make breakfast for your family? When you were younger.”
Percy thinks back to that time, to when he’d been surrounding by love and affection from all angles, and nods. “Yes. My sister, Vesper, she taught me how to make everything just the way people liked it, and I ended up being better at it than she was.” He smiles at the memory. “She was so jealous. She tried to get me banned from making food anymore, but I had convinced myself I was going to be a famous chef and my mother was nothing if not supportive.” Percy sighs. “But breakfast was my favorite part of the day. Father always joined us, no matter what his schedule looked like, and the younger ones were too sleepy to be crawling up the walls. It was nice.”
Vax isn’t smiling anymore, when Percy looks over (Percy wonders if he’s done something wrong, if Vax hadn’t really cared to hear that much and Percy had just overshared in the way he’s been trying so hard to avoid). “Was it fun, having such a big family?”
“Sometimes,” Percy says (he thinks of Vesper’s patient guidance, Julius’ brash impulsiveness, Whitney and Oliver performing magic tricks to dazzle the infant Cassandra while Ludwig sucked on his thumb). “It wasn’t all fun to grow up in a house of magic users, though.”
“Yeah, I can imagine,” Vax says. He’s smiling again, and Percy is infinitely relieved. “Mom used to cook for Vex and I, when we were younger. She really knew how to make good meatloaf, I remember that much. And when we had to stay with Syldor, he always ate weird vegan shit. I remember it being such a relief to come home to our mother’s cooking after having to suffer through food even Trinket wouldn’t touch.”
Percy laughs. “I find it hard to imagine anything even Trinket won't eat.”
“I thought it was impossible, too, but Syldor managed it,” Vax says. He's still smiling, but something sad lurks in his eyes. “Our sister, Velora, I feel so bad for her. She has to eat that crap all the time. I hope she's okay.”
(And Percy thinks to his own sister, his youngest and his favorite. Cassandra reaches her chubby baby fingers up to him and coos; Cassandra is delighted by the toys Percy makes and puts tiny enchantments on so they move on their own; Cassandra has tears rolling down her cheeks as she wakes Percy up and drags him outside and away from the echoing gunshots in their home; Cassandra screams and tries to cling to him as much stronger people drag her away; Cassandra looks at him through a crack in her door and says, “I have a new family now. I'm a Briarwood.” The memories are arrows to the heart. He hopes she's okay.)
The rest of breakfast passes in relative silence, the both of them caught up in their own thoughts (Percy wonders briefly if Vax is thinking about Vex dying on the floor, but banishes it quickly).
“I should probably get going soon,” Vax says as they wash the dishes (they could just put it in the dishwasher, or magic them clean, but where's the fun in that?). “I have an early shift at Gilmore's, you know how it is.”
Percy shrugs. “Yeah, I do. I, ah,” he hesitates, not sure if he should say what he wants to say, if it'd be too much.
Vax bumps him with his shoulder after the silence drags on just a little too long. Percy looks over to see him smiling a little. “You what, Percival?”
“I just,” Percy says, “I wish you didn't have to go. It's silly, and really selfish, but I wish you could stay.”
“Hey,” Vax says. Percy doesn't look back up until Vax reaches out and lays his hands over Percy's. “Hey. It's not silly. But I'll be back, Percy. You can count on that. I, well, I'm always going to come back. To you.”
Percy swallows, staring wide-eyed at Vax. There is a moment, just a brief, still moment, where they look at each other without words, without barriers. “But why?” Percy says. It's quiet, almost whispered (she'd never made promises like that, had never seen fit to comfort him, and the sincerity in Vax's voice is making Percy feel like he's been sucker-punched).
Vax smiles almost disbelievingly. “Because you're you. And I know a lot has happened between us, but you're one of my favorite people in the world.”
What is Percy supposed to say to that? He's not sure there are any words for it. So instead, he leans in and kisses Vax. His hands are still covered in suds and holding the plate he'd been washing, they're both in their pajamas and haven't even brushed their teeth yet, but Percy feels like something clicks into place.
Vax pulls away, just enough so Percy can see his surprise. “You- Percy?” he says.
Percy feels himself turning red, something heavy and uncomfortable settling in his stomach. “I'm sorry. Did I read this wrong?”
“No!” Vax says. He grins wide and toothy, and if Percy had to name the look on his face, he'd say besotted. “Of course not, you stupid, brilliant man.” He takes Percy's face in his hands – and it feels weird because one hand is still wet and soapy – and kisses him again.
Of their own volition, Percy's hand find their way to Vax's waist and pull him in closer. There's a soaring feeling in his chest (so different than the plummeting of kissing her was, but Percy isn't thinking of her, has thoughts only for Vax and his lips and hands and the butterflies Percy gets around him).
They break away eventually, but don't let each other go.
Vax laughs, butting his forehead up against Percy's. “Are we idiots?” he says.
“To be fair,” Percy says, “we've had a lot going on.”
“I do have to go to work,” Vax says. “I want to stay, but I really need to go to work.”
Percy hums, pressing another chaste kiss to Vax's lips just because he can. “As if Gilmore would ever reprimand you,” he says.
Vax pulls back, but still keeps his grip on Percy. “I don't want to test those waters,” Vax says. “But I promise I'll come straight home after work.”
Percy stills. He feels something unnameable latching onto his heart with sharp talons. “Home?” he says.
Vax softens infinitely, and kisses Percy once more. “Yeah,” he says against Percy's lips. “Home.”
They part, Vax going to get ready for work while Percy finishes up washing the dishes. Percy doesn't have anything to do today (he might go down to Keyleth's shop, he might smile at her genuinely and she might smile back, he might offer help because he knows he hasn't been around and she might accept because she knows she hasn't made herself available to him, he might begin to make amends and she might begin to forgive).
“I'll be home again before you even notice I'm gone,” Vax says as he leaves.
Percy smiles at him. “I believe you.”
A smile curls up Vax's lips and he pauses. “See you soon.”
“See you soon,” Percy echoes.
The door closes between them. It feels like a promise, and for the first time in a long time, Percy thinks maybe it will all be okay.