Work Text:
Martyn lays on top of Ren, held tightly in the red name’s arms.
This is their first night since Ren turned red and he feels guilty about it.
The blond never should have listened to Ren and swung the axe.
Ren had told him as soon as he turned red how weird it feels.
The dog hybrid had told him how it feels like his skin is itching, craving for him to hurt someone.
Martyn had apologized but Ren told him it’s fine.
The human reaches up a slow, hesitant hand, tracing the long, thick, fresh scar, wrapping around Ren’s neck.
Whenever he sees it, he feels guilt bubbling up in his gut, telling him he should have not killed Ren, should have tried to reason with him.
But he didn’t.
Martyn tilts his head at an angle at which he can press his face into Ren’s neck.
The dog hybrid’s eyes flutter open slowly, haunting Ren gazing at blond hair.
Martyn slowly presses a kiss to the scar from the axe, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.
“Hand?” Ren says quietly into the dark room.
Martyn presses another kiss to the scar, wishing he could heal the scar, wishing he could undo what he did with his hand.
“Martyn?” Ren says into the air after a few more minutes of silence, of Martyn pressing kisses to his scared neck, tears falling onto the grayish skin of the dog hybrid.
Martyn lifts his head, blue eyes locking with red.
Ren cups his cheek, pulling him in for a soft, light, slow kiss.
“Sleep.” Ren says, wiping a tear from Martyn’s cheek.