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Wanderer goes straight to Sethos’s place after he finishes catching up with Nahida. He wanted to stay for longer to help, but she insisted that he take a day or two to recover despite his protests.
So here he is, unconsciously walking towards a place he knows very well. His feet simply carry him through the city streets quietly, walking through lit streets and familiar turns without pause. He tells himself it’s for convenience and that it doesn't mean anything.
If he stops to think about it too long, he might realize he’s exhausted in a way that has nothing to do with sleep, and that his body is yearning for the very same person he's about to see.
By the time he reaches the familiar door, the tension has settled deep in his shoulders, a dull ache that hasn’t left him since Nod-Krai, almost like it's a part of him now. The uneasiness still lingers in his bones like the memory of danger refuses to let go even now that he’s returned. It's not like he’d ever forget what happened there.
He raises his hand and hesitates for a moment and then forces himself to knock before he can overthink his actions too much.
The door opens almost too quickly, as if Sethos had been waiting for him already. The warm light from the inside spills out, and for a moment, Wanderer just stands there, caught between the sharp edges of Nod-Krai still clinging to him and the quiet safety of Sethos’ place pressing gently at his back.
Sethos’s eyes widen slightly when he sees him, relief washing over his expression when he realizes who it is. His eyes do an once-over as if making sure Wanderer is okay.
“Hat Guy, you’re here.” Sethos breathes out so softly it makes Wanderer almost shiver.
Something in Wanderer’s chest before he can stop it. “Yeah…” He replies way too quietly.
Sethos steps aside at once like he can't wait to have him by his side. “Come in.”
Wanderer steps inside and feels the warmth wrap around him immediately. It’s not just the temperature, even though it is quite warm inside, but the atmosphere. The familiar scents, the sounds, the objects inside. It’s a place shaped by Sethos’s presence.
He doesn’t remove his sandals right away, his body stiff as if he's frozen on the spot while he lets the familiarity hit him square in the chest after being gone for so long.
Sethos notices, but he only offers a smile.
“You can take your time,” Sethos says gently, already moving away to set water on to heat, “you don’t have to rush.”
“I’m not staying for long,” Wanderer mutters automatically, even though he knows it's not true.
Sethos hums, not paying much attention to that. “Okay, okay, okay.”
The lack of response unsettles Wanderer more than resistance would have since he can tell Sethos is acting gentler than usual. He still takes his sandals off anyway and steps in.
Time moves strangely after that. Sethos places a cup of tea in front of him on the couch without asking, brewed exactly how Wanderer prefers it after the many times he has done it in the past. He talks about small, unimportant things—things that happened in the Temple of Silence, stories about some deliveries he had done, something funny he had seen earlier that day, and things that happened while he was gone.
Wanderer listens without fully paying attention. His thoughts keep drifting away, replaying fragments he doesn’t want to linger on. How close things came to going wrong. How easily he could have vanished.
He doesn’t say any of it out loud, and Sethos doesn't push him, even though they both know he notices that something is off.
The rest of the night settles quietly. At some point in the comfortable encounter, Sethos places a blanket around his shoulders, which Wanderer doesn’t shrug off, even though the cold has never bothered him.
He sits there, wrapped in the warmth of the fluffy blanket, listening to the steady rhythm of Sethos’s presence beside him. At some point, without realizing, he falls asleep with his head against Sethos’ shoulder. It's unexpected because he doesn't really need sleep, but having Sethos so close makes the uneasiness in his body disappear until he's too relaxed.
Sleep doesn't come easy for him, though.
Each time he stirs, Sethos is there, running his fingers through his hair or whispering sweet nothings in his ear. It grounds him in a way he resents and craves in equal measure, but it helps him go back to sleep each time.
When morning comes, Wanderer is the one to wake up first. He lies there on the couch staring at the ceiling, feeling the familiar restlessness curl in his chest.
When he realizes Sethos isn't next to him anymore, he tries to get up and make his escape since he feels a little too vulnerable, even if he knows he's safe here.
“Where are you going, Hat Guy?” Sethos’s voice interrupts, still thick with sleep as he comes out of the bathroom.
Wanderer freezes, fingers brushing the fabric. “I wasn’t—”
“It’s okay,” Sethos murmurs, approaching him slowly. His eyes are full of softness, not accusing him at all, “I know how you feel. Stay and relax.”
Wanderer exhales sharply, heat creeping up his cheeks. “I’m fine.”
Sethos doesn’t argue, only looking at him for a moment before blurting out, “you almost died back there.”
The truth lands heavier than expected on Wanderer. He wonders if Nahida had kept him updated on what happened to him during the rescue mission.
“I didn’t almost die,” Wanderer retorts defensively, his jaw tight.
Sethos is silent for a moment. Then, gently, “Wanderer, you almost didn’t come back.”
Wanderer looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. It's not fair when Sethos uses his name in such a caring tone.
“I waited for you here,” Sethos continues, his voice steady as he tries to meet his gaze again. “And I kept thinking you would be fine. You always are. But that doesn’t make the waiting easier.”
He reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against Wanderer’s wrist, holding it gently.
“You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.” Sethos brings his wrist up to his lips to kiss it softly. “I’m here for you.”
The words settle deep into his core, the flush on his face deepening at the tender gesture as a soft noise escapes him. He ends up leaning into Sethos’ side again, hoping it’s enough to say what he can’t bring himself to voice.
They stay like that for a while, the room filled with a low hum of the movement outside. Wanderer lets his eyes drift shut, just for a moment to bask in the gentleness of the physical touch he's receiving because he didn't realize how much he needed it. His body is still tense, but it’s less sharp than before. It feels less urgent now.
Eventually, Sethos shifts carefully, as if afraid of breaking something fragile.
“I’ll be right back, yeah?” He says softly, untangling himself from Wanderer.
Wanderer opens his eyes, looking up at him through his lashes. “Where are you going?”
Sethos smiles faintly, acting too mysterious for Wanderer’s liking. “I’ll be quick.”
He hesitates for a second before leaving, and then he adds gently, “Stay.”
Wanderer huffs quietly, something close to a scoff since he knows Sethos is used to him running away. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Sethos’s smile doesn’t fade, but there’s something knowing in his eyes. He leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Okay.”
He slips away before Wanderer can say anything else.
Now that he’s left alone, Wanderer exhales slowly. He leans back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. The silence feels different now in a good way. It doesn't feel empty and threatening anymore.
He hears movement down the hall and the soft sound of running water. Then a familiar, calming scent begins to seep into the air—lavender.
Realization dawns on him slowly, his eyes narrowing curiously.
When Sethos returns minutes later, he doesn’t say anything at first. He just crouches in front of Wanderer, resting his arms loosely on his knees, eyes searching his face with love.
“I prepared you a bath," he says at last, voice quiet, "it’s ready whenever you are.”
Wanderer stiffens instinctively. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” Sethos replies simply, shrugging his shoulders to minimize his actions.
He doesn’t frame it as something Wanderer needs. He doesn’t mention rest or recovery or anything that might sound like concern. He just lets the offer exist between them.
Wanderer looks away from those caring eyes and bites the inside of his cheek. The idea of letting himself be cared for is scary for someone like him. Rest has never come easily to him, even less in front of someone else, but… He can't help but admit that Sethos’ presence brings security to him.
“You don’t have to talk.” Sethos adds when Wanderer takes too long to respond. “You don’t have to explain anything. You can just… be there. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Wanderer swallows, fingers curling into the blanket still draped around his shoulders. After a moment, he nods once, small and reluctant.
“… Fine.”
Sethos’s expression softens immediately, relief flickering across his face before he reins it in. He stands and offers a hand, giving him that smile that makes Wanderer melt on the inside.
Wanderer eyes him for a second longer than necessary, but he takes his hand.
Sethos’s grip is warm and steady as he helps him up, careful not to rush him. They move down the hallway together at a slow pace. Wanderer’s steps are unhurried, his body protesting the unfamiliar act of yielding.
The bathroom door opens, and warmth rolls out to greet them.
Candlelight flickers across the walls, soft and golden. Steam curls lazily through the air, carrying the scent of lavender with it. The bath is already drawn, water perfectly still, bubbles clinging together in gentle clusters.
Wanderer stops short.
He takes it in silently. The care, the thought, the quiet intention behind every detail. His throat tightens.
“You…” He trails off, unable to finish the thought.
Sethos watches him carefully. “Is it okay?”
Wanderer nods, once then twice. “Yeah.”
Sethos steps closer, movements slow and deliberate. “Let me help you.”
There’s a pause. A flicker of hesitation.
Then Wanderer exhales and nods again.
Sethos moves with gentle precision, guiding him through each step, always watching for tension, for doubt. Every touch is careful, respectful. He never rushes or lingers where he shouldn’t.
When Wanderer finally lowers himself into the bath, the warm water wraps around him like a blanket instantly, making a soft sound slip past his lips before he can stop it.
His shoulders drop. His breathing evens out. The tight coil inside him loosens, just a little.
Sethos kneels beside the tub, close enough to feel but not crowding him. He brushes his fingers lightly over Wanderer’s wrist again, gentler this time.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs with promise.
Wanderer closes his eyes.
For the first time since Nod-Krai, he allows himself to believe it.
—
The bath leaves him loose in a way Wanderer isn’t used to, but he hasn't felt this relaxed in a very long time.
When Sethos finally helps him out, the air feels cooler against his skin, making him shiver despite himself. He clicks his tongue under his breath, annoyed at the reaction, but Sethos is already there, draping a towel around his body before the cold can sink in properly.
“Careful there,” Sethos says, guiding him to sit on the edge of the tub.
Wanderer lets himself be moved. The steam still clings to him, softening the sharp edges of the usual thoughts that invade him, making it harder to snap back into his usual guarded posture. Sethos towels his hair with slow, careful motions, patting rather than rubbing, mindful of every small reaction.
“You’re going to catch a cold if you don't dress quickly,” Sethos says lightly with a soft hum in his tone.
“I don't catch colds.” Wanderer clicks his tongue, though the words lack conviction.
Sethos hums like he doesn't fully believe him, and reaches for a thicker towel anyway. He wraps it around Wanderer’s shoulders without comment, tugging it snug before he can protest.
Which he doesn’t since it feels nice.
Sethos’s fingers linger at the nape of his neck, combing gently through damp strands until the tension there eases. Wanderer’s eyes flutter shut for a brief moment, his head tilting just slightly into the touch before he catches himself.
Sethos shoots him a knowing smile, but he focuses on helping him get dressed first.
“Come on,” Sethos says softly after finishing, “let’s get you comfortable.”
He leads Wanderer back into the living room, where the lights are dimmed and the air is warm. Sethos settles him onto the couch and disappears for a moment, returning with a thick blanket folded over his arm.
Before Wanderer can make a comment on it, Sethos spreads it over him, tucking it carefully around his legs and shoulders, cocooning him in it. The weight of it is firm enough to make him feel held without being trapped.
Wanderer exhales slowly, unconsciously melting against the couch.
“This is excessive,” he says anyway, but his hands curl into the fabric instead of pushing it away.
Sethos chuckles fondly. “You can complain after. Just let me do this.”
He sits beside him, close but not touching at first, giving Wanderer space to adjust. Wanderer stares ahead, feeling strangely heavy in the best possible way.
After a moment, Sethos shifts closer. Just enough to make their shoulders brush.
Wanderer tenses instinctively, but then relaxes when Sethos doesn’t push further. Sethos drapes an arm around his shoulders slowly, waiting for Wanderer to pull away if he wants to.
He doesn’t.
Instead, Wanderer leans in, just barely, resting the side of his head against Sethos’s chest. The heartbeat beneath his ear is steady. Real.
Sethos’s breath hitches for half a second before he settles, his arm tightening slightly around Wanderer’s shoulders. His other hand comes up to trail slow, soothing strokes along Wanderer’s arm, thumb brushing back and forth in an absent rhythm.
Comfortable silence falls over them, words not needed at the moment.
Wanderer’s thoughts drift, but not back to Nod-Krai this time. They drift to the present. To the care he's receiving. To the simple fact of being held without expectations pushed on him.
“You’re safe with me,” Sethos murmurs quietly after noticing he's lost in his thoughts again.
Wanderer scoffs weakly. “I know.”
But his fingers clutch the blanket tighter, and he doesn’t move away.
Sethos presses a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, careful not to startle him. Wanderer stiffens for a heartbeat, then relaxes again, sinking deeper into the embrace.
The world feels far away like this.
Eventually, Sethos shifts just enough to pull Wanderer closer, guiding him until he’s fully tucked against his side, legs tangled beneath the blanket. Sethos adjusts it again, making sure no part of him is left uncovered.
Wanderer yawns involuntary. He clicks his tongue in annoyance because he doesn't need it, but he feels so safe that he can't help it.
Sethos chuckles softly. “Tired?”
“Shut up.” Wanderer snaps back, but it lacks its usual sharpness.
Sethos laughs, resting his chin lightly atop Wanderer’s head. His fingers resume their gentle motion, tracing slow, grounding paths that make it harder and harder for Wanderer to hold himself awake.
His eyes grow heavy, and he stops fighting it.
For the first time since Nod-Krai, he lets himself rest without keeping one part of himself alert. The warmth seeps into places he didn’t realize were still cold, and he snuggles into that warmth, almost purring when Sethos holds him tighter.
Sethos’s heartbeat is steady beneath his ear, a quiet reminder that there's someone waiting for him to come back.
Sleep takes him gently after that.