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The gentle darkness of midnight envelops the cozy safety of the bedroom, where D3rlord and Avery sleep. Avery is resting peacefully on the floor while D3rlord curls into a tight ball on his rickety bed. The dull thumping of rain outside serves as white noise to keep the two asleep. At least for now.
…
D3rlord stirs weakly, hands balling into fists. He writhes around in a futile attempt to escape his current nightmare. He mumbles panicked mantras in an attempt to soothe himself, but nothing works. His panicked mannerisms only grow louder until it wakes Avery up, who quickly stares over at him from across the room. At least what he can see in the dim lighting, anyway.
He blinks worriedly.
“Um,” he says, “D3r?”
D3rlord startles awake with a shaky inhale, eyes darting around the dark room.
“…Avery?” He gasps, still not all there.
“That’s me!” Avery says, pointing to himself. D3rlord can’t see it, but he staggers to his feet and towards Avery’s voice. He almost falls over, feeling dizzy at the sudden movement. Avery hears the loud thud and walks over.
“D3r—? W-what are you doing?!” he stammers, blindly feeling around to pull D3rlord up from the ground.
As soon as D3rlord feels Avery’s warm hands brush his skin, his half-awake mind screams for him to run to it. He scrambles into Avery’s arms (despite being decently taller than him), causing Avery to nearly stumbles backwards at the sudden weight.
“D3rlord! What’s wrong, man?” he asks worriedly, subconsciously snaking a hand around D3rlord’s waist as the disheveled man buries his face in his chest. Which is now damp. “Are you—are you crying?”
D3rlord says nothing. He doesn’t need to. His staggering breaths silently speak a thousand words. Avery awkwardly places a hand on D3rlord’s head, which is missing its usual golden helmet, and runs his jelly-like fingers through his unkempt braids.
“Is this… am I doing this right?” Avery whispers, mostly to himself.
D3rlord nods weakly into Avery’s shirt, which he digs his talons into so deeply that Avery’s worried he might rip it. Oh, good. At least D3rlord can comprehend what he’s saying. He grins nervously.
“It’ll be alright, big guy…” Avery mutters, moving his hand to gently stroke the feathers covering D3rlord’s neck and shoulders, which he seems to appreciate. He coos softly, (basically unashamedly, from his sleep deprivation). Avery fights the urge to scratch behind his owly ears! It’s an unusual sight from someone as hardy as him. He almost finds it cute, but if he thinks about that too hard, he might get a little flustered and totally blow his cover. That would suck.
Unfortunately, as is the universe heard his prayers and decided to fuck hum and only him over, D3rlord sniffles loudly, reigns his tears in, and shoves his face into Avery’s neck with a hum. Ah. Well. Avery swallows, face quickly turning a warm pink.
“D3r, what’s—uhm, haha, what’s the occasion? You think you should, er, just go back to bed?”
“…Avery…” D3rlord mumbles, deep voice rumbling against Avery’s throat. “…Thank you.”
“Oh. No… problem…?”
D3rlord brings a shaky hand to pat Avery’s back.
"You're warm," is all D3rlord says.
"What—?” Avery blinks. He knows D3rlord has a few screws loose, but this is a new low, even for him. Or high? Avery can't tell how he feels about the closeness and barely awake flattery just yet. Clearly, D3rlord’s already scrambled brain only becomes more fried when sleep is added to the equation.
Warm, huh? Um. It’s something he tries to maintain, he guesses! So he doesn’t just freeze or melt. It’s really not that hard or anything like that. It mostly comes naturally. He’s never really gotten many comments on it, but he’s also never been suddenly brought into a mindless embrace like the other party might die if they don’t hug right now.
“…Thanks.”
D3rlord mumbles in response.
“Seriously, D3r, is something wrong?” Avery asks, looking anywhere but D3rlord’s face. He can’t get caught like this. Oh my god.
“No, no,” D3rlord says tiredly, words slurring together. “…Just give me a moment.”
Avery blinks, deciding to just wait. Right. Give him a moment! That’s what he’s doing.
…
The moment is way too quiet, aside from D3rlord’s faint breathing in Avery’s ear. Which doesn’t make things better.
After a few seconds, D3rlord finally lets up. He pulls away from Avery, although rather sloppily considering his obvious tiredness. Avery can’t help but chuckle awkwardly, half-attempting to fill the silence and half-trying to keep his composure. If the bright pink over his face hasn’t given him away already, of course.
If D3rlord was more lucid, he would’ve said something about it. However, he’s mostly focused on how Avery’s basically the only thing keeping him from bursting into simultaneously laughing and sobbing at the same time. Not willingly, of course. He tries to not think about it. Instead, it all escapes through his mouth, like a guilty dog.
“Avery, you… you mean sso much to me,” he stumbles over his words, reaching out to nothing in particular, “…I’m sorry I don’t say it. Rreally. I am.”
Avery’s blush deepens. He’s not sure what to say.
“You keep me sane.”
“…Oh. Uum. Haha. Thanks,” he whispers. He appreciates it, really, he does, but it gives him more questions than answers. His face is a sweaty, near-red mess.
“Why don’t you, uhh, get some food or something, then we—er, you—can go back to bed?”
D3rlord nods.
Thank GOD. A distraction. Avery quickly walks out of the bedroom, down the short hallway and into the combination living room-kitchen. He reaches for a lantern and grabs a match from a nearby chest, striking it on the side of the lantern until it hisses to life. He sticks the small ember into the glass container and quickly takes it out once the lantern flickers on, the soft orange glow illuminating just enough for him to see what he’s doing.
As he rummages in the same chest for ingredients, he hears D3rlord’s foosteps. His talons click gently against the floor. It’s something Avery doesn’t hear often unless D3rlord’s too tired to manually lift his claws off the ground. One of his little vigilant habits Avery’s noticed.
“How about a fruit salad?” Avery hums, pulling a few melon slices and other berries from the chest and setting them on the partially-lit, gnarled kitchen counter.
“…Sure,” D3rlord says quietly, taking a seat on a small wooden stool across from Avery. “I’ve… noticed you eat them a lot, right?” he blinks sleepily.
“Yeup!” Avery whistles, grabbing a small bowl and assorting whichever fruits aren’t spoiled in a way he finds aesthetically pleasing. Different flavors, textures, and colors mixing together in a delightful combination! He’s basically a master at fruit assortments. Hopefully it’ll get D3rlord to actually eat a decent meal for once.
Once he’s done, he gently nudges the bumpy brown bowl towards D3rlord. D3rlord looks up, almost having fallen asleep despite his fuzzy, loud mind.
“Mm. Thank you.”
Avery nods.
D3rlord tiredly pops a grape into his mouth, leaving a few of the pieces half-eaten.
Avery frowns. Even when he’s on the brink of falling back asleep, he still can’t finish his food. He walks around the counter, taking a seat next to D3rlord on the other stool. He grabs what’s left of a watermelon slice and pokes it against D3rlord’s cheek.
“You need to eat,” he says.
D3rlord grumbles stubbornly under his breath, taking the fruit from Avery and forcing himself to eat it. He bites the inside of his cheek, looking off to the side.
Avery giggles quietly.
Eventually, D3rlord finishes the meal and pushes the bowl aside, turning to look at Avery. His dark, haunting eyes pierce daggers through Avery. It’s almost enthralling, if it wasn’t a little scary to him. Avery smiles wobbily.
“…I’m tired,” D3rlord mumbles.
“Me too,” Avery hums, standing up. “Why not head back to bed?”
D3rlord reaches out to him, but stops, instead letting his hand linger in the air.
“Avery. Wait,” he says suddenly.
Avery looks over.
“Huh?”
“Please stay,” he mumbles.
“Ahm. Alright!” Avery smiles, taking his seat again. “What’s up?”
“…Sorry. About earlier,” he says, voice small with shame.
“Oh. It’s fine,” Avery waves a hand nonchalantly.
“It’s not,” D3rlord insists. “I was… panicking… and didn’t think otherwise.”
“Really. Don’t sweat it, dude,” Avery purses his lips. “Let’s just sleep. It’s…” he glances out the window. Pitch black. “…mega late o’clock.”
D3rlord slowly rises from his seat, taking Avery’s outstretched hand. He tiredly slumps forward behind him, almost resting his chin over Avery’s shoulder. Avery shifts to let D3rlord lean on him as they walk, silently accepting the moment between them.
Avery tries his best to not get his ankles stepped on by D3rlord as he walks him to bed, humming quietly the entire way.
Once they reach the bed, he lays D3rlord down, pulling his covers over him without thinking.
“Good night,” he whispers. D3rlord mumbles in response.
>>>
By the time the morning comes, D3rlord is missing from bed. When Avery goes to investigate, he finds his buddy sulking in the kitchen, eerily silent and emotionally walled away behind his golden armor.
Avery isn’t sure if he’s embarrassed about last night or if it’s another bout of self-imposed stoicism.