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It’s cold.
Juan is hugging his chest, every part of his body freezing from either touching the cold stone of the floor or the glass pane of the tube.
It’s blurry.
He has no glasses on. In fact, he doesn’t have anything on.
It’s noisy.
The beeps of the machine monitoring him, the loud hum of the potion maker, every sound is louder then the other, pouring in his brain relentlessly. But most of all, Foolish’s incessant voice.
“Juan? Juan are you okay? Is it really you? Did I do it right? How do you feel? Juan? Answer me, please.”
He feels the Totem move, circling him, trying to pierce a look through the arms Juan is shielding himself with.
The Totem taps on the glass and finally Juan has enough.
“¡Pendejo! Estoy aquí, vivo,” He yells, his voice cracking from the lack of recent use. “Give me clothes, pervert!”
Foolish stays stunned for
a few moments, his hands on the glass finally stopping, before they rush to his neck to unclasp his black oscurocho cape.
He unlocks the tube, opens the door and Juan shivers from the cold air hitting his body. He hastily takes the cape Foolish is offering, wrapping it around his body, more to warm himself then to cover himself. Foolish had literally held half his heart in his hand, Juan didn’t care if the Totem saw other parts.
Stepping out of the machine is harder then he would’ve thought. His legs wobble under him as he tries to stand, and the stone pedestal is too high for him to jump off of with his current stability and shaky muscles.
Just as he thought he had found a secure way, his foot slips on the slimy surface beneath his feet and he feels himself falling.
He hits a hard surface. He feels an arm snake to his back, holding him stable and far from the actual ground he could’ve hit.
Foolish puffs quietly at his clumsiness, but wraps his second arm around Juan, pulling the man further into him and holding him tight like he thinks Juan is as fragile as glass.
Juan didn’t quite know how long he had been gone, the memories of his time being gone blurring into a black void of lack of sensations where he didn’t quite think but wasn’t entirely unconscious. Judging from Foolish’s desperate hug, it must have been a long time.
Juan breathes in the Totem, turning his head to lay his ear on his chest. From there, he could hear the Totem’s rapid heartbeat, pulling him even further into the reality that’s he’s alive. He closes his eyes.
He could stay here forever. Warmness escapes Foolish to enter him through the embrace, and he feels more at peace then he ever has, even before his death.
Foolish doesn’t seem to want to let go either. He lowers his head to rest his forehead on the top of Juan’s hair.
“Did you miss me?” Juan asks, even if he already suspected the answer.
Foolish only hums, tightening the hug even more. Juan feels like he could choke from the intense pressure on his ribs. It conveys Foolish’s true feelings well enough and answers Juan’s question.
After a long sigh, Foolish lets go.
“Alright, that’s enough.”
Juan feels the remnants of the hug on his skin and smiles fondly, the affection having melted away his previous grumpiness and annoyance at the Totem.
In fact it made him crave Foolish’s closeness. Like an hitch in his skin.
For that reason he’s unable to let go completely, one hand grabbing the end of Foolish’s shirt so he doesn’t go far. The Totem, if he has noticed, doesn’t call out Juan on it.
“Aren’t you cold? You’re only wearing my cape. And are you tired? I don’t know if resurrection is tiring,” Foolish instead asks, suddenly overcome with worries towards the man he just resurrected.
“Yes, I’m tired,” Juan simply responds, feeling the heavy weight of his eyelids.
He presses at the bridge of his nose to relieve the uncomfortable pressure he’s starting to feel from not wearing his glasses.
“Oh right!”
And just like that, Foolish takes Juan’s round glasses out of his pocket and places them gently on his face, holding the side of Juan’s head with his fingers for only a moment. Juan would be lying if he said the shudder that passes through him is a result of the cold.
“Thanks Foolish,” he mutters, having to physically look up to the man to see his face due to their closeness.
Their chests graze almost imperceptibly against each other but Juan finds his mind drifting. Thoughts of embraces and skin on skin…
“Ok you need actual clothes now.”
Juan giggles as he falls back down to earth, partly because of the featherlight feeling blooming in his heart when he looks over at Foolish, partly because of the tease he thought of to annoy the Totem.
“Why, you don’t like see me naked?”
“You wish, pal,” Foolish responds, a hint of softness in his voice.
It stays unaddressed.
Foolish grabs his waystone from his backpack and Juan realizes at the last second he’ll teleport away (alone and far from Juan), so he grabs his arm at the last moment. They both appear at the same time in Juan’s bedroom.
He immediately rushes toward his closet, ignoring the dust that settled on the handles and the reason for it. He grabs the first shirt and pair of pants he sees and, not wanting to leave the room, puts them on right there and then.
He turns back to the Totem who had forced himself to look away and clears his throat, making Foolish’s head turn back toward him.
They stare at each other for a moment, Foolish wearing an almost amazed look like he can’t believe Juan is actually there.
“I want to sleep now,” Juan finally declares.
“Oh, right! Well, I’ll just be in my room, or maybe at the Temple…”
Juan’s throat closes up at those words, and panic wraps a hand around his heart.
Foolish will be far away. How will he be safe? How will he keep Juan safe? Why does he want to go away?
Watching Foolish walk closer and closer to his door only make his worries sound louder in his head like alarms and he can’t help but call out to the Totem in a rough and nervous voice.
“Foolish stay!”
A beat passes where silence envelops them, Foolish keeping a hand to the door handle but stays unmoving, Juan staring at him with wide eyes, almost unbelieving of the words that just left him.
Finally the Totem turns back, and Juan is glad to notice that his face isn’t twisted in disgust. If Juan was honest, he even notices a bit of relief in those eyes.
“Yeah- Of course, I can stay. Where do you want me to be?” He agrees, nodding his head.
Juan looks around his room, but the couch feels too far, the chair too uncomfortable for a Totem like him and the only reasonable option is the bed. Next to Juan.
“Bed.”
Foolish chokes.
Juan simply walks to his bed, sliding under the soft red covers of his bed with a pleased sigh and throwing his glasses on the side table. He stares at the Totem, waiting for him to move. But all he does is stare back at Juan, mouth gaping. Juan has enough.
“Come, stupid, what you waiting?”
“I don’t-!”
He pauses and doesn’t finish his sentence, only walks toward the other side of the bed in defeat and gets in, covering himself in the duvet and staying far, too far, from where Juan is laying.
They’re not touching. Foolish is just out of reach, and even if Juan was dying to get close, to make sure he’s there, he knew he wasn’t allowed to. He didn’t quite understand why he had started to feel a desperate pull towards the other man a few weeks ago but he knew he had to bury it away fast, the Totem was sure to find it disturbing.
The space between them feels like a taunt to Juan. Still, he’s a grown man, he can ignore it.
He presses his eyes closed, laying on his back and hugging his own chest. If he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the slow breaths coming from the Totem. That will have to be good enough to reassure Juan.
His exhaustion doesn’t waste a long time to lull him to sleep, and he lets darkness take over, soothed by the quiet presence of Foolish at his side.
———
Green lights blinds him and he feels a painful hitch clawing at his throat, blocking his airways, making his eyes water and his hands tremble. His knees hit the ground, the sound reverberating in his brain making it pound painfully. His pleas and cries don’t achieve anything. He’s utterly alone.
No one came to save him.
The only thing he can hear is the maleficent cackle of the evil scientist that trapped him there. When he looks further, past the neon glass, the cold stare of the old North general looks back at him, no regrets in sight.
Where is Foolish.
Juan needs Foolish.
Foolish abandoned him.
He feels tears stream down his face, and the darkness behind his eyelids drowns him, the noxious gaz fills his lungs, his heart, his brain.
Nothing is left of him when the noise fades out.
Juan snaps awake, his heart racing in his chest, his cheeks wet with tears, his breath comes in fast inhales and exhales. He sits up, grabbing at his hair, desperate for something to calm him down from his nightmare.
He startles and shudders at the touch of a hand on his shoulder before turning his gaze to the man next to him looking at him through worried eyes. He’s mouthing something but Juan can’t hear over the sound of his own blood, although seeing Foolish next to him spreads an indescribable warmth in his chest.
Juan can’t help himself. Before he can even think, the pull to get close takes over and he plunges into Foolish’s arms, clinging to him like his life depends on it.
Foolish simply wraps his arms around him, drawing slow circles on his back and murmuring reassurances in his ear while tears stream down Juan’s face, and the most simple realization in existence dawns on him.
He loves Foolish. He’s in love with Foolish.
Moments pass while he basks in the discovery and the touch of Foolish over all of him. His tears slowly dry on the Totem’s black shirt, his cheeks hitch uncomfortably from the leftover salt. His breathing slows down.
“You’re here,” he speaks in a rough voice.
It’s not a question, it’s more like a reassurance to himself. Convincing himself that yes, of course Foolish is here, when has he not been?
“Was I not in your nightmare?” Foolish questions softly.
Juan detaches himself from the Totem, blinking away the last stray tears and stare at his face.
“No, pendejo. I died alone,” Juan declares, an illogical piece of resentment towards the Totem stuck in his throat.
His eyes stray from the other’s face, unwilling to see the pity or the-
His thoughts get cut short when Foolish’s arms embrace him once more and force him to lay back down on the bed.
“Okay. Look at me.”
And Juan does. They lay on their sides facing each other, chest touching and Foolish’s arms holding him close.
“You’re not dead. You’re here, I brought you back because you’re my best friend, alright? I missed you a lot when you were gone, but you’re here now. I’ll keep you safe. Okay? I promise.”
Juan feels his cheeks burn at the sweet words Foolish just whispered. He forces himself to nod. Despite himself, his barriers break down and he can’t push away his affections anymore. The desire to feel Foolish’s lips is like a magnet, to touch and kiss his face and not hear any complaints from the man who means so much to him. In the most literal of terms, he brought him back to life.
Maybe it wasn’t the best moment, maybe he was just feeling vulnerable and weak, maybe Foolish’s closeness was making him dizzy and unable to think reasonable thoughts, or maybe it was the soft way Foolish was looking at him, tracing with his eyes every inch of his face, but before Foolish can open his mouth to continue his reassurances, Juan is pressing his lips to his mouth.
Foolish hitches a breath but doesn’t move away. In fact, after a dull moment where nothing happened and the weight of the decision dawned on Juan, he uses one of the arms holding Juan to pull his body closer, Juan’s leg sliding on Foolish, making them an indistinguishable form hidden under the covers.
Juan’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest, having Foolish closer then he’ll ever be, the gentle feel of the other’s mouth and hands on him is all Juan can think of.
The kiss doesn’t last much longer before they have to separate due to their sudden stupid grin.
Juan only giggles, Foolish lets out a disbelieving laugh.
“Juan, I never had the chance to tell you, and then you died but I-”
“I love you too, stupid,” Juan cuts.
Foolish gapes in betrayal before hitting Juan lightly on his shoulder.
“No! I was going to say it! How dare you!”
Juan only giggles further, hiding his face in Foolish’s neck.
“Ok monster, then say it,” Juan presses, his voice muffled in the golden skin of the Totem.
“Nope. You lost your chance pal.”
“Whatever. I know it’s true no one can resist me.”
Foolish puffs, but brings a hand to encompass Juan’s nape and hold it in place where it is.
Juan presses a kiss in the skin available and smiles when the Totem tightens his hold.
“You said you were tired, go to sleep, Juan!” Foolish says with an audible smile.
Juan hums but doesn’t resist the command.
Going to sleep has never been so easy, feeling Foolish’s body on his all night, hearing his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest from his own place on it. It was all he could’ve asked for, delivered to him on a plater. He was alive, and glued to Foolish’s side, with absolutely no complaint from the Totem.
His curse truly was broken.