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A rugged pant slowly fills up the quiet room. It all started quite silently, but now it’s so unbearable that the breathing is turning akin to heavy gasping.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Lycaon chants to himself as he takes in another surge of pain through his body.
A loud pitter patter of the rain can be heard banging onto the window. Outside, a heavy thunderstorm pours down on New Eridu. As if trying to wash the city clean. Unfortunately, it never washes Lycaon’s pains away. If anything, it always brings in a heavy wave of it. It always comes during rainy days, when the weather is transitioning from lovely spring to lively summer. As the days slowly turning hotter by the day, so does the nights getting colder every night. Lycaon welcomes it with open arms though, like an old friend that only comes by every once in a year. It has been more than a decade after all. Lycaon is used to it.
At least, that’s what he convinces himself with.
He has to.
Because if not, his mind will spiral down. Blaming all this occurrences towards something, someone or worse, towards the universe. And that makes him sounds like a lunatic, which he is not. Lycaon believes all things happened for a reason. His actions and decisions years ago costs him not only the love of his life, but also his limbs that he was very much proud of. Yet all of that is what made him who he is today. What got him to where he is now. The thiren can never regret what he has done.
Another tingle runs through his head, all the way to both of his stumps. As if both of his eye and his limbs are signaling towards each other. Missing each other. Still, I do wish this pain lessen over the years. Lycaon sighs as he slowly rubs his hands onto his stumps.
“Nghh…”
Speaking of the love of his life, Lycaon turns his head towards the man lying beside him. His golden hair spreads across the white linen bed sheet, his face nuzzling on Lycaon’s fluffy tail, while his arms softly hugging it. Hovering between dream world and reality, Hugo struggles to open his eyes, a shy reveal of his crimson and silver jewels. “…Ly…caon?”
“I’m here.” Lycaon swipes away golden strays from Hugo’s face. Even without the moonlight, the dark rainy sky gives out dim glow into the room. Just enough for him to appreciate his partner’s beauty.
“Wha…?”
Lycaon rarely sees this view, where Hugo is not being vigilant at all times. It brings a smile out of him. A proof of how privileged he is to be given of Hugo’s trust once more. “I’m fine. You’re fine. Go back to sleep, Hugo.” Lycaon kisses Hugo’s forehead softly. He must’ve been awoke by the constant twitching of his tail, as Lycaon keeps a damper of his own pain.
“Mmm…kay…”
Not long, soft snores plays along with the thunderstorm’s roar once more. Lycaon breath a sigh of relief. He doesn’t want to trouble Hugo with this, certainly not when he knows Hugo requires a much-needed rest after the long week he had.
They always joke on how Hugo operates on whatever time he has that he looks like an unemployed person, which is true at a certain point. But Lycaon knows the hard work his partner puts behind the scene. When Mockingbird is in action, everything will go according to plan, back up plans ready in the waiting and no loose ends will occur. One of the things Hugo is very proud of as the Mockingbird’s founder. Plus, the gallery has a new week-long exhibition. For once, Lycaon had urged Hugo to focus on it after seeing Robin broke down in tears—yes, actual tears, Lycaon is 99% sure of it—managing the gallery by himself.
Another flare shoots through his skull. It’s even worse than the last. Lycaon puts his palm over the right side of his head, hoping it can somehow alleviate the sudden headache. He knows it’s a futile endeavor, yet his first instinct is always to press his palms as hard as he can onto his blind right eye. As though the pain mocking him, Lycaon can feel another wave of it surging through his stumps. Now he has to deal with both of them at the same time.
Annoying.
Why is it so annoying this time? It never goes this bad before. At most, it was itches and sharp tingles that Lycaon can somewhat sleep it off. The ache will come back the next day, but duller than before. This however is an entirely different beast. It feels like a light bulb constantly flickering right behind his eyelids, flashing in rhythm with the stinging stab into his skull & bones.
It never goes this bad… aside from that night. The night when he realized he had lost everything. His right eye. His legs. Hugo. And all he had was himself to blame.
I hate it. Thump.
What a bother. Thump.
Just go away. Thump.
God, just make it stop. Thump!
For once, just…
“Lycaon.”
A smooth voice cuts through the throbbing pain inside his head. A hand stops his left arm’s movement, another gently holds his other hand that is still pressing hard onto right side of his head. It is then Lycaon realizes, he has been punching his own stumps. Trying to beat out the pain with more pain. “Hugo?”
“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Hugo speaks softly whilst rubbing his palms across Lycaon’s arms.
I’m already hurting. The thiren clears his throat, stopping himself from voicing his thoughts. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No. Your tail did.”
That brings out a good chuckle out of Lycaon. “Well, someone was clinging to my tail so tightly that I didn’t have the heart to take it away from him.”
“Well, someone should wake me up anyway, lest his tail keeps twitching and smacking my face every other minute.” Hugo huffs as he rolls his eyes.
Contrary to the exasperation in his voice, Hugo tenderly moves away Lycaon’s palm from his head and stumps. Not long, soothing caress replaces them. Those gentle rubs must’ve been what a miracle is like. The pounding ache in his head, the stabbing stings in his bones, all of them simmers down to a quiet, dull throb. He can feel the other’s warm touch that isn’t masked by the pain anymore. Finally, Lycaon can breath easy again.
Hugo must’ve sensed the changes as well, with the way his partner let his weight leans on him even further. “Better?”
“Much… Much better. Thank you.” Lycaon eventually let his forehead rests on Hugo’s collarbones.
“You should’ve woken me up.”
“…I could.”
“But you wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Gee, why am I not surprised. Dare I ask why?”
“If I were to wake you up every time for this kind of thing, you will never get good night rest.”
Hugo’s palms halt its stroke. No. Don’t stop. Please never stop. “You mean… This happens often?”
In an unguarded state within his partner’s warm embrace, Lycaon belatedly realizes he has spoken too much. It isn’t like he is trying to hide it from Hugo. But Lycaon had always handled this by himself. And thus, he never truly feel the need to let Hugo know. Seeing no response from the thiren, Hugo gently lifts Lycaon’s head up, “Also, it’s not just ‘this kind of thing’. Clearly it’s not something to underestimate if it happens so often, Lycaon.”
“I’m fine. I can handle it.”
“Yeah? Have you told that to your tail? Pretty sure it didn’t get the memo.” If it wasn’t for the slow throb in his head, Lycaon would’ve freely laugh out loud. Alas, he can only manage another good chuckle.
“Stop laughing. I’m being serious.” Hugo kindly slaps his shoulder.
“You’re the one who’s not being serious.”
“Do not talk back to me.” Trying not to make his headache flares up again, Lycaon closes his eyes and chuckles some more. Circling his arms around Hugo’s slender waist, Lycaon rests his head back onto Hugo’s shoulder. His dearest partner always have ways with words. He can never get tired of hearing it though. It feels calming and comforting, regardless of what Hugo is spouting on.
“I mean it. I know you can handle it by yourself. But…” Lycaon feels a clutch on his shirt across his back. “Just… Let me know next time.”
The thunderstorm outside has stopped at one point, leaving only few lightning rumbles in the gloomy night sky. With Lycaon’s pain slowly dissipating, his thiren senses gradually comes back to live. A small quiver is felt on his back, almost unnoticeable. He can feel Hugo’s hand clenches his shirt further, masking his trembling hands. Lycaon embraces him back in return, diminishing any space between them.
“Hugo. It’s not your fault. You understand that, right?”
A soft gasp fills the silent room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He picks up Hugo’s subtle voice, dampened from his face hiding on Lycaon’s shoulder.
They had this conversation before—well, it always end up one-sided anyways. Hugo manages to always shy away from the topic, like how he is currently behaving. Lycaon knows Hugo doesn’t truly feel that way, not anymore. But from time to time, he also observed—from the peripheral of his good eye—how Hugo stared at his legs and right eye a split second too long. His brows furrowed ever so slightly, his jaw clenched marginally. The few times Lycaon manages to catch Hugo’s wistful expression, he always say the same thing.
‘It’s not your fault.’
It is also partly why Lycaon doesn’t want to share his predicament to Hugo. Him leaving Mockingbird back then left a scar so deep for both of them, even more so on Hugo. But what’s done is done. Lycaon has never regretted his decision. He is quite convinced Hugo also feels the same way. But never again he wish to see that anguish expression on Hugo’s face. He is determined not to make Hugo unhappy ever again. And yet… Lycaon’s existence seemingly still incites such heartbroken expression on his dearest. Nevertheless, Hugo doesn’t seem to ever want to talk about it. It’s fine. He will be there, ready to say the same thing over and over, reassuring Hugo however many times it takes. It’s not his fault. It never was.
“Tell you what…” Lycaon straightens his body, facing Hugo head on, “I’ll let you know when my… episode happens. As long as you let me know whenever you’re swamped with your work and needed my help with your ‘actual work’.”
Sneering grin gradually blooming on Hugo’s face, “This and that are two very different circumstances, my dear.”
“How so?”
Crossing his arm, Hugo snappishly looks away, “For starter, I’m not gonna share the details of ‘my work’ to a certain Mayor’s Lapdog. Second, your pain subsides because of this wondrous touch by yours truly. That means, you need me, more than I need you.”
Lycaon can feel his brows & ears twitching hearing the brutal facts laid out in the open. Hugo is just being his dramatic self, yet he can’t refute any of it. He can only let out a heavy sigh, bringing himself back to hugging Hugo whilst nuzzling his neck, “Well, you’re not wrong.”
“At this point of our long bittersweet relationship, you ought to know that I am always right, My Dear Lycaon.”
“But, I want to be needed by you. The way I need you.” Lycaon petulantly reply, complete with his head resting on Hugo’s chest, earnestly looking up with his single puppy eye. Hugo has always been a tough nut to crack, but even he would yield at such a low blow. It was Lycaon's best card when he is hoping for a compromise between them. Sure enough, red tinges spread across his pointy ears, giving away Hugo’s crumbling defenses.
“Your brain must’ve been damaged beyond repair for spouting such corny line.”
“You don’t hate it though.”
“Aren’t you suppose to be in pain?”
“I have been healed by your wondrous touch”
“Oh for the love of…” Overcome by such cuteness aggression—or should one say, corniness aggression—Hugo takes Lycaon’s face with both of his palm, starts to rub his fur forcefully. Lycaon lets him be, for he knows he has won this debate. “Fine. I suppose, I can grace you with a few info if I do need your help.”
Lycaon nuzzles Hugo’s palm in return, “Thank you kindly, my dearest.”
They let the warm silence hangs in the room. Until a big yawn suddenly cuts through. It is then Lycaon becomes aware of how tired Hugo must’ve been, having his sleep cuts short due to his troubling episode. Now that won’t do. Lycaon swiftly and gently pulls them both to lay back down onto the bed, arranging their positions and getting comfortable under the duvet. “It’s still very early. Let’s go back to sleep.”
“Hmmm… Are you okay now?” Hugo asks in concern in case Lycaon still needs anything from him, but his eyes betrays him by blinking drowsily.
“I am. Thanks to you.”
“…’kay. Night, Lycaon.” Instead of hugging his tail, this time Hugo’s arms maneuvre towards his partner torso as his body pillow.
“Good Night, Hugo.” With another forehead kiss as his night seal, Hugo goes back into slumber within seconds. Now that there is small moonlight pierces through the window, Lycaon lets himself basks on the clear view of his beloved sleeping face once more. The one view he never gets tired of. The pain he endured just hours before feels like an event from a lifetime ago. Lycaon is just glad that he is now able to follow his partner into slumberland. As he closes his eyes, he recalls back to what Hugo said moments ago.
‘That means, you need me, more than I need you.’
Lycaon softly squeezes the man sleeping in his arm. If only Hugo realizes how true that statement is, Lycaon will never hear the end of it.