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It was a little awkward to sit there in silence, with nothing left to discuss after they had laid themselves bare in front of each other.
“That cross on your nape?” Rhian asked at last. He remembered noticing it first when they had emerged from the Celestium. It had stood out starkly against Zane’s skin in the desert light, like a mark etched across his sun-kissed nape.
Rhian watched as Zane rubbed a hand over the cross, the motion nervous. “Yes.”
Zane put the maps away in his clandestine chest, then lay down on the mattress after pulling one of the soft pillows under his head.
Rhian muttered, “Isn’t this just terrible luck cast upon us?"
Zane picked up one of the thin blankets. “I think it’s stupidity, Rhian.”
Rhian turned onto his side and glanced at Zane, who was settling down after tossing the blanket over himself. Their earlier conversation still felt strange. Rhian had never been a religious man, yet he could not help wondering if this was what it felt like to confess one’s burdens. He had not told Zane the full truth, but even so, speaking the words aloud had lifted a great weight from his chest. And knowing that Zane, too, had suffered under unfairness made him feel seen in a way he could not quite explain.
In all the months they had spent together since escaping that hellhole, Rhian had never quite understood how they had grown so close. Close enough that he could finally see the kind of person Zane truly was. Kind, yes, but also lost.
Lost in the way someone knows what must be done, yet does not know how to do it. That was why Rhian had once mistaken him for being much older than he appeared. After all, it was hard to believe anyone could remain this kind without having been beaten down by the world many times over.
“What?”
Rhian paused, then looked away when he realized he had been caught staring.
“Nothing. I just realized you are the first person who has stayed through so much.”
It felt awkward to say. He did not think of himself as someone who spoke like that, nor did he usually make statements that carried such a deprecating edge, especially when they involved both himself and someone else. He averted his eyes and noticed Zane was still observing him, as though at a loss for words. Rhian would not have been surprised. Zane did not seem like someone who often shared his burdens either.
Perhaps that was why it had been so easy for Rhian to cling to him like a lifeline. Zane had appeared when Rhian had believed he would simply rot away with time, with no escape in sight. Even if he had tried to flee on his own, it would only have brought more pain, his wounds reopening once he reached the Hua Recesses. In truth, had Zane not carried him through the Yunmeng forest, Rhian would likely have died from sepsis.
Zane bit his lip and huffed, then turned away. “Good night, Rhian.”
Rhian could not help the quiet laugh that slipped out. Zane was so easy to tease sometimes.
Zane turned back to look at him, and Rhian raised his brows. “What?”
“Nothing,” Zane muttered, facing him again. “You laughed.”
“Is that something I should be afraid of?”
Zane pressed his lips into a thin line before he spoke. “You don’t laugh often. Maybe out of condescension, otherwise…”
“Ah, the first time someone noticed that, too.”
“Rhian,” Zane grumbled.
“What is it?” Rhian asked, tilting his head again.
Maybe it was the trauma. Surely it had to be the trauma. That word only ever brought to mind his father telling him that his actions and emotions were tied to what his mind kept replaying. It was the same reason he had once pushed everyone close to him away, choosing instead to face his father’s wife’s dead body hanging in his nightmares rather than talk about it.
And it did not help that Zane had shown him more kindness than anyone else in all the years he had been alive, and without ever being asked.
He would never admit it, but the worry on Zane’s face before he had stepped into the arena had felt good. It had felt assuring, as though his life held some value. As though it meant something to someone in case he lost it. Or perhaps making Zane worry was exhilarating in its own quiet way.
Even with the killswitch. It was something he had done out of pure self-indulgence. He was hardly one to value his own life, and yet the thought of someone holding the power to bind him, to put him down, had thrown him into a deep longing.
He wanted that feeling again. Touch was addictive like that, especially when he had received so little of it. Maybe that was part of what made him so fond of Asha, too, with how eagerly she would pounce on them and squeeze them whenever she grew excited.
Maybe Zane understood his craving, maybe he did not. But Rhian knew Zane’s. It was not the touch that he desired, at least not at first. Sure, Zane would melt into it if given, but what he truly wanted was closeness. Verbal, physical, anything at all. Rhian could not help but think they complemented each other in that way.
“Nothing,” Zane said at last. “Ah, it feels cold here.”
“Cold?” Rhian asked, incredulous. “Was the desert not enough for you?”
“It is the fast-changing temperatures. Bodies need time to acclimatize,” Zane replied defensively.
“You mean just yours,” Rhian huffed.
“Do I need to remind you that I carried you through most of the journey?” Zane asked.
Rhian pursed his lips. “And I am grateful that you did not leave me to be buried in the sands.”
“You…” Zane cut himself off and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
Both of them froze when Adrian shifted and muttered something in his sleep. “You know,” Rhian said, unable to help himself, “I thought vampires did not sleep. They are like… dead.”
Zane did not seem to find that funny. “He is clearly alive. But the point about not sleeping…”
“Right?” Rhian asked.
The mattress was small. Neither of them would probably fit if they tried to sleep on their backs. Maybe that was why Zane had chosen to lie on his side, close to the edge. Rhian inched away a little and offered him more space. “You should sleep in the middle. Do not ruin your back so soon.”
Zane shuffled closer. “This is a stupid situation.”
“We shared a bed in Eolys.”
“I was exhausted.”
“Are you not exhausted now?” Rhian asked.
“Well, mentally, most definitely. After almost watching you get electrocuted to death,” Zane replied with a huff. Rhian could not tell if he meant it fully, but then again, almost everything Zane said was at face value. He was not much of a liar, and if he did lie, it only meant he was holding back a larger truth. Or his lie was obvious.
“Glad to hear that,” Rhian said, subtly moving closer. Was it so wrong that he still craved more?
He had never been given things freely while growing up. He had never received them simply by asking. He had only earned them by doing something first. While Huang Delan had once been someone he looked up to in his childish mind, he could not help but wonder if spending time with that man had stunted some part of his social growth.
He knew he could trust Zane. More than he trusted himself. It was probably Zane he trusted with his life, even if that life felt so small.
“Rhian?” Zane asked. “Are you asleep?”
Rhian shook his head. He brought his hand up to scratch at his neck, but Zane caught it before he could. Ah, right. He had drawn blood trying to pull the killswitch off and had forgotten the elixirs. He waited for something, maybe for Zane to drop his hand and pull away, but something told him Zane was waiting for the same in return.
So he let it be. He used his other hand to circle Zane’s wrist.
“What are you doing?” Zane asked.
“I do not know,” Rhian confessed, but he did not dare let go. This was the most he would allow himself. If Zane pushed him away, then a boundary would be set. If he did not?
Zane’s fingers around Rhian’s hand grew lax. Those green eyes searched for something in Rhian’s gaze that the older man knew Zane would never find. He had hidden it too well behind years of solitude.
“You are quite odd,” Zane muttered.
“Mhm,” Rhian said. He finally relaxed enough to let his cheek rest against Zane’s fingertips. He had noticed the others’ hands often during their time at the concord. Zane’s fingers were long and slim, almost pretty, with the Wisteria ring sitting elegantly on his index finger. “I think you are the odd one for letting me indulge.”
Zane rolled his eyes. “Sure. Blame me.”
Rhian exhaled through his nose and let his fingers curl around Zane’s wrist again. He could not help it. He drew Zane’s hand closer to his face until it cupped his cheek.
He met Zane’s eyes and waited for the other man to say something. To be honest, Rhian almost wished Zane would shove him off and call him too needy. Instead, Zane simply blinked at him with an expression Rhian could not decipher.
It hovered somewhere between fondness and surprise.
Did Zane understand what that meant to Rhian’s restless mind? What Rhian craved so desperately?
“What are you doing now?” Zane asked. Rhian felt the other’s fingers flex gently against his cheek.
“Pull your hand away if you have an issue,” Rhian replied, testing the waters. He watched Zane blink a few times before sighing through his nose.
“So you were afraid,” Zane decided.
“What?” Rhian asked, surprised. “Afraid of what?”
“Dying. That is why you want—”
“Zephyr,” Rhian cut in quickly. The name still felt foreign on his tongue, but it suited him. He would not lie and say he felt no envy when he heard Adrian and Asha speak it with such ease, while he had only been given half the truth. Yet Zane never corrected him the way he did with the others.
“What?” Zane asked.
Rhian let his face nuzzle into Zane’s hand again. “Maybe I am just a little pathetic.”
Zane opened his mouth and closed it, as if unsure how to respond to such a blunt statement. Pathetic. Yes, Rhian felt utterly pathetic, hoping his half-formed message would reach Zane. Hold me. I just want to melt away. I am sorry I am so attached to you. I do not know what to do.
His body tensed when he felt a thumb brush gently over his cheekbone. He exhaled shallowly. “Zane?”
“You are hardly pathetic,” Zane muttered. When had he gotten closer?
Rhian swallowed and leaned into the touch. “Then what do you call this?” he asked hesitantly.
Zane stayed quiet for a few moments. Rhian had learned that usually meant Zane was carefully choosing his words. It used to bother him how long Zane took to answer. But looking back, Zane rarely said anything unnecessary.
“Being human,” Zane said at last. “And a little needy, yes.”
Rhian chuckled despite himself. “Of course.”
“Do you want to share the blanket?” Zane asked suddenly.
Rhian blinked, then caught himself mirroring Zane’s confusion. “Sure?” he muttered.
Zane shifted closer and used his free hand to pull the blanket over both of them. If you wanted to get closer, you could have simply done that. Yet Rhian appreciated the quiet gesture as Zane settled nearer than before.
He could smell the soap on Zane’s skin and the faint scent of starsliver on his clothes. He wondered if Zane had stored the fruit in the clandestine chest as well.
“Don't you think you are too close?” Rhian whispered.
Zane tilted his face closer and brought his other hand up to cup Rhian’s other cheek. “Do you still think you are pathetic?”
“Are you stuck on that?” Rhian asked, unable to hide an eye roll.
Zane pursed his lips. Rhian made the mistake of glancing at them. With their proximity, it was hard to see clearly, but the dim light showed enough to make things feel awkward. “You are insatiable,” Zane said with a small smile. “My eyes are up here.”
“Shut up,” Rhian said. “You move so much.”
Zane laughed softly. “Your cheeks are so warm right now.”
“Of course!” Rhian hissed. “I have never been this close to anyone. Have you?”
“No,” Zane replied. “But it is fine, since it is you.”
“We have known each other for only three months.”
Zane’s thumb traced Rhian’s brow, and Rhian felt one of Zane’s legs tangle gently with his own. “So? You did not seem to mind when it came to your needs.”
Because it is carnal, and you are indulging me more than I deserve. What if any of my past horrid luck falls on you as well?
Rhian closed his eyes, unable to keep staring at Zane. He felt Zane’s fingers continue to explore his face, and hardly realized how close they’d gotten to each other. “Rhian,” Zane said suddenly.
Rhian refused to open his eyes. “What?”
“You’ve got a mole near your upper lip.”
“Thought you were going blind, yet you can spot that in this lighting?” Rhian asked. He swallowed again and swore Zane had probably heard it as well. Seriously, how fucking deprived was he?
“Can I touch it?” Zane asked quietly. “Pathetically, of course.”
Rhian felt himself freeze again. He opened his eyes and found Zane already staring back at him as though he was waiting. “You have a very interesting way to play with words,” he muttered. “But go ahead, be as pathetic as you—”
He didn’t get the remaining words in as he felt Zane’s lips against his. And dear Gods, they were so soft, warm, and incredibly his. Rhian let go of Zane’s wrist and slid it up to hold the back of Zane’s head as he shifted closer.
He smiled when their kiss made an audible sound, and Zane pulled away, flustered. “It’s fine,” Rhian whispered, kissing Zane again. He’d never kissed anyone in his life, never had a reason to. And judging by Zane’s earlier words, it seemed that Zane was in the same sea of hopelessness.
Yet, it felt right. They pulled away, and Zane fixed his position before he kissed Rhian again, this time propping himself over on his elbow so he was leaning down on Rhian. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Zane confessed timidly after they pulled away to catch air.
Rhian bumped their noses together. “You think I do? I did say I’m pathetic—”
Zane kissed him again and pulled him into an embrace once he fell on Rhian’s chest. “Not pathetic,” he whispered. “You’re a good person, Rhian.”
Oh. That was nice. That was new. Dammit, Zephyr. Rhian reciprocated almost begrudgingly. Dammit. It was nice.
Zane hummed softly into Rhian’s neck, his lashes fluttering in a way that almost tickled Rhian. “You’re warm,” Zane whispered.
“I think it’s your touch-starved nature.”
“Mhm, how could you guess?”
Rhian swallowed and just held Zane tighter. He stayed quiet for a few moments before kissing Zane’s forehead. “Thank you.”
Zane chuckled. “You’ve been quite well behaved lately.”
“Shut up.”
Though Zane obliged, Rhian could feel Zane nuzzle further into his collar, almost as if he wanted to get inside Rhian’s skin. The idea wasn’t that bad; a part of Rhian spoke almost surely that he’d let Zane do as he pleased.
“Good night, Rhian.”
Rhian couldn’t help but smile against Zane’s hair. “Good night, Zane.”