[center][h3][color=cyan]『𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣』[/color] [color=8493ca]『ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤』[/color][/h3][/center]
[center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/xp0eIcQ.png[/img][img]http://i.imgur.com/Kxn0drf.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=silver]ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕤   / /   [@RedDusk][@January][/color][/center][hr][hr][center][color=silver] 𝕋𝕙𝕦: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟚𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕    / /   ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖   / /  ~ 𝟙𝟘𝟘𝟘[/color][/center][hr]

[hider=Reunion]
Christmas had woken up to the feeling of pins and needles. His first thought was that his legs and arms had fallen asleep, but when he finally opened his eyes the reality terrified him more than any nightmares. IV stands stood like sentries to his right—four, five, six of them taped to his right arm while his left arm was dotted uniformly with red pricks, two to three in a batch and some batches had been covered in gauze while others freshly pierced. The air seemed fuzzy and bright. White—like he was in the center of a glittering cloud, and a tingling current was running lightly through him. His power, but why—

He started to panic, started to move. And the nails in the coffin were the straps holding his torso and legs down to the bed, the handcuffs locking him to the bedframe. He thought he made a mumbling noise or a weak scream, but a doctor leaned over him, something like pity and fear in the aging man’s blue eyes before he inserted a syringe into the boy’s arm, ignoring the small whimper that reflexively came from the battered healer.

[color f7976a]”Don’t move,”[/color] was the order that sounded like a blaring foghorn in Christmas’s mind. He thought he was starting to cry. Felt the shuddering of his chest as the sobs came hand-in-hand with the panic. But that’s when he heard the others.

Crying. Sobbing. Wailing. Screaming. People surrounded him on their own beds, bloody and broken, and he could feel his power streaming around them. 

The room was cavernous and when he finally found the nerve to turn his head, he could barely see the far end of it. So many people, and every so often a healed patient would be wheeled out to be replaced by another. But none of them were the students from his class. Not even a vaguely familiar face. Especially not Sander. Wherever he was, he was alone.

He felt himself breathing faster, the coiling in his guts tightening to a sheer horror. It felt like he had missed an apocalypse and the world he knew was gone. The doctor had just taken out the syringe, but the man said something Christmas couldn’t hear. His small frame pushed against the heavy leather straps holding him down and more doctors rushed to his side. One brought a syringe of clear liquid that he remembered seeing the night of his capture—it felt like years ago.

He woke up again to the sound of gravel rolling beneath tires and the steady rumbling of a car, body too weak to protest anymore. Bandages wrapped around his arms and legs like clothes, the aftermath of healing so many at once. There was no Sander to comfort him. There was no one else in the truck that he knew, period. Just soldiers watching his bed, guns at the ready, and not even these soldiers were any he had seen at the Institute.

Stress built into tears and tears into the only thought he could manage. He pulled the sheets of the hospital bed over his head, the motion slow and unsteady. It was an old childhood habit whenever he no longer wanted to face doors locked from the outside and barred windows. Whenever he no longer wanted to face his mother. One of the many children’s books she illustrated had taught the younger Christmas the lesson that he could hide from monsters under the sheets. With a thin blanket over his head and soldiers surrounding him, it took Christmas only seconds to realize he couldn’t hide if the monster was him.

They had placed him in a wheelchair when he proved too unsteady to walk, the handicap aide folded up in the corner like someone had expected the problem. Beach sand and forest dirt rolled beneath the wheels now, and Christmas had resigned himself to whatever fate they had in store. Underneath the constant panic that had become familiar now, he felt small and—most of all—alone.

The feeling brought with it how terribly he missed Sander, but no one seemed to notice when he started sniffling in his chair.

Sander noticed the scent first. It was late enough that he would be out and about, but not yet hungry enough for lunch, so he was in his room, drying his hair idly with a towel. A hand reached for the blooming bruise on his cheek, fingers testing the tender spot. It still ached, though the black splotch had faded to an ugly yellow.
 
He frowned at the sight of him in the mirror. Bruised and tired and obviously sleep-deprived. But at least his Stigma was quiet, and his face didn’t hurt anymore. The soldiers had already said Christmas would be here soon, but Sander had been waiting for two full days. ‘Soon’ is not enough. He needed to ask again.
 
Then the coffee scent prickled his senses. He turned his head, eyes wide.
 
[i]He was here.[/i]
 
Sander only had enough mind to grab the nearby shirt and throw it on, fingers fumbling to do the buttons as he raced down the stairs, hair still damp from the shower. He made it all the way into the courtyard, where Christmas was being wheeled in by several soldiers. Uncaring of the sharp prickles of gravel underneath his feet, Sander ran toward the entourage, a tentative smile lighting up his features. 

Rapid footsteps caught the healer’s attention and he looked up, a rush of emotion started crashing into him at the sight of Sander, disheveled, bruised, and fresh from a shower running up to meet the procession of guards. He didn’t realize it, but he was already pushing himself out of the chair, stumbling forward on weak, unsteady legs to reach Sander because [i]he was here[/i] as long as Sander was. 

Before Christmas’ legs could give out, Sander was already there, pulling the blond boy into his arms. The scent of coffee was too thick, still tempting, but Sander found that it meant more than just fuel for his power. Far more. It meant life. It meant something between him and Christmas that neither had defined. And he was surprisingly fine with that.
 
“[color cyan]I miss you.[/color]” -Sander mumbled, breathing the shaky words onto the crown of Christmas’ head.

The smaller boy was trembling, too many words and emotions he couldn’t sift through in time, but he felt the same. Breaths hitched in his throat, so Christmas held onto Sander instead, hands clinging desperately to the back of Sander’s shirt. He pressed his face against the unbuttoned collar, feeling the tears well up at the familiar warmth of Sander’s body.

One of the nearby soldiers scoffed with a short breath out of his nose, but he turned and left after confirming the location once more, the remainder of the group following suit now that they had delivered the healer to the designated drop-off point.

With barely a care to his surroundings, Sander just focused on the person in his arms, squeezing the smaller body against his chest until Christmas whimpered quietly, the pricks of countless needles aggravated by the affection. Several newer extractions on his arms bled in tiny droplets again, coloring the patches of gauze in red stippling.

Sander recoiled immediately, lifting his head from Christmas’ hair, though he still kept a loose grip the blond boy’s waist.
 
“[color cyan]Shit.[/color]” -The blood mage swore loudly, uncaring of the curse word this time as his eyes glued onto the red patches along Christmas’ arms –“[color cyan]S-Sorry. I’ll…bring you to the infirmary?[/color]”

Christmas shook his head, words still failing him. Instead he held onto Sander again, rubbing a tear-streaked face against the taller boy’s damp clothes. Small noises came and went until finally he managed to form a reply.

[color 8493ca]”Missed—missed you a-a lot.”[/color]

Sander just let Christmas hold on to him while he ran his fingers through the boy’s blond hair. Minutes passed, and only then did Sander realize the cool air around them. His wet shirt clinging close to his skin definite wasn’t helping, either.
 
“[color cyan]I’ll take you to our room.[/color]” -He said softly, rubbing the back of Christmas’ neck to get his attention –“[color cyan]Can you walk?[/color]”

Christmas shook his head, the act of standing barely passable. He would have fallen by now were it not for Sander. [color 8493ca]”Sor-sorry…”[/color]

“[color cyan]Lean on me?[/color]” -Sander offered, carefully peel back Christmas’ arms so he could wrap an arm around Christmas’ back and move to stand at the blond boy’s left side –“[color cyan]Alright?[/color]” -He turned to look at the healer, narrowing his eyes at the red splotches.

Once the emotional firestorm of being near Sander had calmed to the steady heat of the blood mage’s presence, Christmas nodded slowly, taking testing steps and deciding leaning against Sander was enough.

[color 8493ca]”M-missed you,”[/color] he repeated in lieu of certain other words.

And just like that, they walked back. It was slow, slower when there were stairs, but Sander was patient. He had waited for days. He could wait a bit longer. And he was sure DC was a far scarier place.
 
The door to their room was still wide-open, just as he left it. As they shuffled inside, Sander kicked it close with his heel, then led Christmas straight to the queen-sized bed, easing the blond boy down into a seat on the soft mattress.
 
“[color cyan]Do you want anything? Water? Food? Are you hungry?[/color]” -The Aberration asked, reaching fingers out to carefully wipe at the traces of tears on Christmas’ cheeks.

More shakes of the head and Christmas clung on to Sander’s arm instead, holding fast like he was afraid Sander would disappear once he let go.

Sander looked surprised, eyes going wide before he willed himself to relax again. Eventually, he relaxed into Christmas’ hold, leaning down to crawl into bed with the healer. There was a damp patch on his pillow and bits of dirt dragged in from the driveway, but Sander didn’t care enough then. All he could really focus on was Christmas, and the blond boy was [i]so close[/i].
 
“[color cyan]Hey.[/color]” -He leaned in, close enough to share the shuddering air that Christmas breathed –“[color cyan]What do you want?[/color]” -He asked again, this time with a lopsided smile at the end.

With Sander’s face so close, Christmas could finally see the splotch of bruising on the other boy’s face. Question forgotten, he stared at the injury in horror, one hand reaching up to barely touch it.

[color 8493ca]”Are you—wh-what happened? D-do you want, um…”[/color] he looked down at the specks of red underneath the gauze on his arm, the offer obvious.

“[color cyan]It’s nothing. I just…fell.[/color]” -Sander answered quickly, turning his face to press his nose into Christmas’ palm, inhaling as the blond’s other hand touched against the tip of his ear.

[color 8493ca]”…Do you—do you s-still…”[/color] Christmas pulled his hands back briefly, peeling away at a patch of bandage to reveal the dot of red below where a fresh needle puncture had reopened.

The coffee scent was suddenly too strong. Too heady. Christmas was too close, and Sander found that his heart was beating too fast. He gasped, before biting back the sound and forcing himself to neither lean in or flinch away.
 
The dot of red was mesmerizing on Christmas’ pale skin, and for a moment, Sander felt silly, like a cat chasing laser pointers.
 
“[color cyan]You’re…sure?[/color]” -He gulped, tearing his gaze away from his roommate’s arm.

[color 8493ca]”Y-you can al-always t-take from me,”[/color] Christmas replied, moving his arm closer and leaning a fraction closer.

“[color cyan]You’re too nice.[/color]” -Sander sighed, as if he were lamenting. But he leaned in nonetheless, meeting Christmas’ arm halfway. Slowly, carefully, he licked at the wound, the tangy taste of blood torturous on his tongue. But he held fast, refusing to let his power ruin the only good thing in his life at the moment.

Christmas scooted closer as Sander’s eyes shone a pale red the moment tongue met blood. It wasn’t anywhere close to the full force of the vampire’s strength, but he could feel his roommate’s body temperature rising as well. 

[color 8493ca]”I—I don’t mind if you…if you take more,”[/color] the healer stammered, too-fresh memories of being alone and feeling lost still haunting his thoughts as he offered solace in exchange for solace. A wish of “please don’t leave.” Instead he whispered, [color 8493ca]”Please take more.”[/color]

With his heart hammering in his chest and the rush of blood loud in his ears, it was amazing that Sander was still holding onto a resemblance of control. He kept running his tongue along the expanse of skin, his teeth scraping but never caught. The fire in his chest was pitiful slivers of what it could be, but he held back, stopping as soon as the urge to bite got too strong. However, instead of leaning back, Sander leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Christmas’ shoulder. The self-restraint didn’t go unnoticed when they were that close to one another and Christmas brought the unwrapped forearm closer to Sander’s face once more.

[color 8493ca]”You can—al-always,”[/color] he whispered, feeling the tension along Sander’s jaw pressed against his collar bone.

“[color cyan]Too nice.[/color]” -Sander said with a grimace, and in one quick motion, he had tipped Christmas flat onto the bed, hovering above the healer on his hands and knees. The bruise had already faded back into the pale of his skin, its remnants were buried under the flush of Sander’s cheeks –“[color cyan]I…I’m sorry. I didn’t stay with you…after. I should have.[/color]”

The surprise of Sander’s form now entirely eclipsing the soft lighting rendered Christmas momentarily speechless and he stared into the faint glow of red eyes, the natural tremors of visual tracking entirely focused on him. 

[color 8493ca]”It-it’s okay,”[/color] he heard himself answer automatically, because his mind was preoccupied with the heat, the position, the bed—then a tangent about the location—and back again to the thought of Sander braced above him like this. He stared back, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, at a loss for what to do as heat rose to his neck and shoulders and the spot on his nape that Sander had caressed seemed to burn.

“[color cyan]I will try harder, next time.[/color]”- Sander promised, solemn –“[color cyan]I won’t let them hurt you. Ever.[/color]”

The words registered partially, because Christmas’s eyes were tracing the lines of Sander’s lips and the curve of his cheekbones. He nodded, because it felt like the right thing to do in response, but before he could stop himself, the temptation to reach up and wrap his arms around Sander’s neck had won out. Days alone and without his roommate had defined for him how much he wanted to be near Sander, and now much of his inhibitions had been waylaid by both fatigue and the strange excitement coursing through him.

Sander blinked, looking a little bit surprised before he finally surrendered to the pull of Christmas’ arms and leaned down to press a kiss against the blond boy’s lips. It was a slower kiss this time, still chaste, still soft, but instead of pulling away, Sander lingered. 

Christmas hadn’t realized how much he had wanted this particular course of action until their lips met, and he felt emboldened by the lasting kiss, so he held on a bit tighter, trying to ask Sander for more without the words at the ready.

Sander held onto the kiss as long as he dared, but then the need for air forced him to end it. Looking down at Christmas, he was breathless, eyes glazed and lips slightly part, still trying to process everything.
 
“[color cyan]I…[/color]” -He began, then trailed off, licking his lips and looking lost as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

Embarrassment colored his cheeks ruddy, but Christmas continued staring upwards, still searching for something in the curves and arches of Sander’s face—something he wasn’t even sure he should have. It was hard to tell himself Sander was like this to everyone. Even harder to convince himself there was nothing of import between them. But he didn’t know if he could step beyond the line he had set for himself, because he couldn’t bear to lose what they already had if what he wanted was a mistake in the end.

He settled for embracing Sander’s shoulders, afraid to offer anything further. Blood was easier. It was something he was almost always sure Sander wanted. But the feelings between them were far less certain for him, especially when he tried to guess and second guess Sander’s thoughts. It didn’t work and he didn’t want to risk it.

Sander breathed out, slowly, then buried his face in the crook of Christmas’ neck, drowning himself in the scent. His jaws worked a few times, but no words formed. Still trying to ask but not quite sure what he was asking for.

The touch of lips against the now-sensitive skin of his neck made Christmas breathe in sharply.

[color 8493ca]”S-Sander?”[/color] he asked, trembling.

“[color cyan]Hmm?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”A-are you…um…wh-what do you…w-want to do?”[/color]

“[color cyan]I just…want you close.[/color]” -Sander answered, the close proximity with Christmas’ thrumming pulse made him [i]want[/i]. Before he could think better, Sander leaned in and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of the healer’s neck, right above the pulse point. 

Christmas swallowed, another inhale following the action. Sander was doing this on purpose, right? This wasn’t just his misconceptions threatening to cloud rational thought? He felt teeth and tongue against his neck and thought his heartbeats doubled in pace. Sander was strange—had always been—but this wasn’t a mistake, right? Sander knew what he was doing, right?

[color 8493ca]”I-I can…can…I’ll do wh-what you want if—if you w-want,”[/color] he offered hesitantly, the words overlapping and unsteady.

"[color cyan]What do you mean?[/color]"

A flutter of panic set in when Sander seemed entirely unaware of what he was suggesting.

[color 8493ca]”N-nothing—nothing—I’m sorry,”[/color] the blond hastily replied, hugging Sander tight against his neck as if to assure that this was all he meant.

“[color cyan]I can't…Tell me. Can you tell me?[/color]"

[color 8493ca]”T-tell what?”[/color]

"[color cyan]What…what I want.[/color]"

It was absurd. Christmas didn’t even know what he, himself, wanted half the time, let alone know what someone important to him wanted. He breathed in, trying to find a middle ground. 

[color 8493ca]”If—if it’s just…being near—I—this is f-fine, right?”[/color]

"[color cyan]No…[/color]" -Sander began hastily, then shifted above Christmas, suddenly uncomfortable as the heat coiled low in his stomach-"[color cyan]I want to…do more.[/color]" -He offered hesitantly.

[color 8493ca]”M-more? Like—um…th-that kind of m-more?”[/color] Christmas’s eyes were saucers, unsure if he was hearing it right or if this was a terrible fever dream after all. As if in confirmation that this was reality, Sander lowered himself onto Christmas for another nip at his neck, pressing a distantly familiar sensation against Christmas’s thigh.

He knew it as he felt it, that characteristic tent of fabric pushed up by swelling flesh beneath. It scared him that he knew what he [i]wanted[/i] as well in that moment and he let his breaths run as they please, scattered and frantic while he tried to assure himself that everything was okay. But it wasn’t, and the insistent pressure against his legs as Sander began biting his neck finally wore down his flimsy self-denial.

[color 8493ca]”I-I can…h-help with…with the…p-pants,”[/color] he stuttered through rapid breaths, arousal and panic mixing into something akin to exhilaration laced with the dread of making permanent mistakes.

Sander swallowed drily, staring at the white expanse of skin just below Christmas' collar. Before he could stop himself, he pressed on.

"[color cyan]I think I would like that.[/color]" [/hider]

[hider=Redolence] [url=https://www.dropbox.com/s/m7cl4zk95mol4hj/Redolence.docx?dl=0]Here[/url] [/hider]


[hr][center][color=silver] 𝕋𝕙𝕦: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟚𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕    / /   ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖   / /  ~ 𝟙𝟜𝟘𝟘 [/color][/center][hr]

[hider=Relate] 
Warm sheets and soft fabric were the first sensations Christmas felt when he woke up, though his eyes refused to open. Instead he lay in the gentle divot of the memory foam mattress, feeling more rested than he had ever felt in his life. Moments of silence passed with only the ambient noise of the mansion to fill them and eventually his sluggish thoughts recalled a dream he had the night before, one where he had been bold enough to offer more than just blood to Sander.

It was shameful, really, thinking about his roommate like that, but the memory felt disturbingly vivid, as if it had actually happened. He turned over with a long breath and the motion woke him further.

It [i]had[/i] happened. 

His eyes snapped open, wide from the jolt of anxiety. It [i]had[/i] happened. 

And Sander had liked it.

The painful thundering in his chest slowed at the memory that it was okay. It was fine. Sander hadn’t been disgusted with him. Fear still knotted in his chest, but he replayed Sander’s reassurances over and over in his head, telling himself it was fine because Sander had said so—he had said so, right? The thoughts weren’t a dream mixed with reality? He fell back down into the bed, the surge of panic having depleted the meager store of morning energy.

Bright sunlight shone through the white lace curtains.

Not morning anymore.

Sander chose that exact moment to walk in with a tray of food on one arm and a first-aid kit in the other. Blue eyes lit up at the sight of Christmas up and about, and the blood mage quickly deposited everything on the nearby desk before walking to the bed.
 
“[color cyan]You’re awake.[/color]” -Sander smiled, standing at the bedside and hovering over Christmas who looked up in surprise. The expression melted into something like worry and want all tangled together and the healer’s eyes seemed to trace the edges of Sander’s face where the muted light illuminated his temple and jaw.

[color 8493ca]”Sander,”[/color] the response was quiet, but it was both greeting and a reply. [color 8493ca]”Good—um—good morning…?”[/color] He sat up slowly, still shaky from the brief moment of panic on waking up, but relieved at the sight of Sander’s smile. Persistent pinpricks of pain reminded him of what had started the snowball of events yesterday, and he was both grateful for them and scared of the memories where he laid alone in a room full of those who saw him as nothing more than a convenient trick to make their pains disappear.

“[color cyan]It’s noon, actually.[/color]” -Sander took a few more moments to observe the healer, just to make sure he wasn’t distressed or in pain, before moving back to the table to retrieve the food -”[color cyan]You have been sleeping for a while.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”S-sorry,”[/color] Christmas replied automatically.

“[color cyan]It’s fine.[/color]” -Sander shrugged, offered Christmas the tray of food. There were three breakfast burritos and one bowl of Fruit Loops cereal on it, along with a spoon wrapped in several paper napkins–“[color cyan]Got you some food.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”W-will you eat with me?”[/color]

It was a bold question, one he had only found the nerve to ask after the events of last night.

“[color cyan]Okay.[/color]” -The answer came easily for Sander, who simply placed the tray on the bed then sat down next to it, waiting on Christmas. 

It came easily, the urge to take more and more. It was true what the adage about humans often repeated: give an inch and people would take a mile. But Christmas toed that line anyway, because he had gone further, so surely leaning against Sander now wouldn’t be wrong, right?

He shuffled towards the taller boy, hugging the arm Sander was bracing against the bed and pressing his cheek to a bicep, food an afterthought in his mind.

[color 8493ca]”Um…I…y-you don’t mind?”[/color]

The physical contact was new, but Sander had always wanted it. And after last night, it would take a lot to make him mind.

“[color cyan]I don’t.[/color]”

Tension slid off Christmas’s shoulders like water and the blond boy sighed into a heavier lean against Sander’s arm. [color 8493ca]”…I’m sorry,”[/color] he mumbled against toned skin, [color 8493ca]”I…um…I’ll try not to bo-bother you t-too much.”[/color] He didn’t even know what he meant by that, because more than anything he wanted to be able to hug and cling onto Sander at any moment. He had known it was a bad idea, to let himself indulge last night in things he wanted. He always wanted more, because he pretended to be nice, but wasn’t. [color 8493ca]”Sorry…”[/color] he repeated, as if afraid Sander could hear his thoughts.

“[color cyan]Don’t have to.[/color]” -Sander reminded gently, nudging Christmas slightly to turn his attention toward the breakfast tray -”[color cyan]You should eat.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”Y-you first.”[/color]

“[color cyan]I’m not really hungry.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”B-but…”[/color] The question of why Sander had brought food when he wasn’t hungry died on Christmas’s tongue. Obviously, there was an intended recipient. He shifted uncomfortably, still holding on to Sander’s arm. [color 8493ca]”Doing things for me is…bad…”[/color] he concluded, [color 8493ca]”b-because I’m…not nice.”[/color]

“[color cyan]But you are nice.[/color]” -Sander shifted slightly, turning to press a kiss against Christmas’ hair -”[color cyan]Thanks.[/color]” 

[color 8493ca]”O-only you think that, y-you know?”[/color] He breathed in as Sander kissed his hair, willing himself to stay calm. His heartbeat ran amok anyway. [color 8493ca]”I…I like that, too,”[/color] he whispered, blinking at Sander’s fingers pressed into the down comforter.

“[color cyan]You should eat.[/color]”

Christmas relented, hunger finally waking along with him. He prodded the burrito with a finger, curious about the contents. When the smell of eggs and sausage wafted out of the aluminum wrapper, he picked it up and peeled off the covering, biting into tortilla shell and filling slowly, not used to the kind of care Sander gave him.

[color 8493ca]”Th-thank you,”[/color] he mumbled after the first bite, staring at the food sadly.

Sander sat quietly, watching intently until Christmas finally dug into his food. Satisfied, the blood mage stood, walking toward the table to grab the first-aid kit and quickly returning. He sat back down, bringing a hand to Christmas’ arm, the touch probing.
 
“[color cyan]Are you still hurting?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”I’m—I’m okay,”[/color] was the instant reply. Christmas nibbled again on the burrito, trying not to feel guilty about accepting kindness.

“[color cyan]Your arm…from last night. I can look at it.[/color]” -Sander offered, the touch gentle but insistent -”[color cyan]I also brought…pills.[/color]”

The reminder of the last time he had taken strong painkillers made Christmas’s hands shake. He swallowed the latest bite of food and placed the burrito back onto the tray, holding on to Sander’s arm again. [color 8493ca]”I’m okay,”[/color] he said again, looking at his own arm that Sander had licked last night. [color 8493ca]”It’s fine.”[/color] A thought occurred to even out the weight of guilt for daring to be happy. [color 8493ca]”D-do you want more?”[/color]

“[color cyan]No.[/color]” -The blood mage said hastily, eyes wide at the sudden offer. Did Christmas think he just wanted…more? Was he afraid? –“[color cyan]I’m not…I don—I’m fine. Please.[/color]” -He reassured quickly, shifting away from the blond boy.
 
“[color cyan]I’m just gonna help with the bandages.[/color]” -He pleaded -”[color cyan]You…trust me, right?[/color]”

Christmas nodded, but held out his arm anyway. [color 8493ca]”I…I-like when you…take from me. F-feels like I matter. Don’t mind if you—if you always take more.”[/color] 

“[color cyan]You matter to me anyway. Not just because of the…blood.[/color]” -Sander admitted, just as he began to roll the sleeve of Christmas’ sweater up. However, the bandages climbed all the above the blond boy’s elbow. Sander looked confused for a few moments, before he finally suggested. 

“[color cyan]Maybe it would be better if you take your sweater off.[/color]”

There was a brief second of hesitation, because Christmas vaguely recalled being jostled about by a particular group of people demanding to be healed first before soldiers had to step in and push them away. But he obeyed, pulling his arms into the sleeves of the sweater and slipping them down and out, tugging the blue-and-white striped sweater over his head to reveal a light smattering of bruises across his torso and more bandages along his other arm as well. Small patches of band-aids rested near his waist and hips where less concerned nurses had drawn blood outside of designated locations on his body. He shivered a bit when the warmth of the sweater was removed and he looked at Sander nervously, hands working one another in his lap while he tried to gauge if it was too much trouble after all. 

[color 8493ca]”S-sorry.”[/color]

The blood mage’s brows knitted together as he examined the patches of white and smatterings of red across Christmas’ torso. So this was what their ‘protection’ looked like. He, of all people, should have known. 

“[color cyan]I…So I will just remove the old ones?[/color]” -He lifted the loose end of a bandage on Christmas’ arm, where the blond boy had offered him blood last night. 

Another automatic “I’m okay” almost sounded, but Christmas held his tongue and nodded instead. [color 8493ca]”Th-thank you.”[/color]

Permissioned granted, Sander began reaching for the bandages on Christmas’ left arm, unwinding them slowly to expose the bruises and needle wounds. Once the healer’s arm was completely bare, he reached into the kit, retrieving a roll of white bandage.
 
“[color cyan]Hang on. Do I have to put something on those?[/color]” -Sander paused, glancing at the various bottles within the kit.

[color 8493ca]”M-maybe just, um, the rubbing alcohol?”[/color] As soon as he suggested it, Christmas regretted it, realizing it would sting up and down the entirety of his arm. [color 8493ca]”O-or not, m-maybe. Th-the arm already got c-cleaned earlier. J-just rewrapping?”[/color]

“[color cyan]Alright.[/color]” -Sander nodded, leaning closer to carefully wrap the strips of bandage around the puncture marks. His breaths slowed, and his eyes narrowed in focus, trying to align the strips perfectly. Still, he had never done this sort of thing before, and it showed. By the time he finished and leaned back to observe his work, Christmas’ arm looked like the blond boy was trying to cosplay as a mummy. Certain strips were lopsided, while others are either too tight or too loose, and Sander ended up holding a loose end in his hand, not quite sure what sort of knot he was supposed to tie.
 
“[color cyan]Uh…I’m sorry.[/color]” -He mumbled, angry with himself. He could have at least researched this beforehand –“[color cyan]I’m just…I have never…[/color]” -The blood mage cut himself off, trying to tuck the loose strand into one of the loops.
 
“[color cyan]I can take you to the infirmary?[/color]”

A shake of his head in response, Christmas having had enough of infirmaries for a while. He withdrew the arm, worried about how much work it would be for Sander to replace everything. [color 8493ca]”It—it’s fine. S-sorry for the t-trouble.”[/color]

Sander sighed, seemingly had given up on the sorry attempt at fixing Christmas’ bandages. He hooked an arm around the healer’s waist, scooting closer while his other hand reached out to grab Christmas his half-eaten burrito.

“[color cyan]It’s no trouble, really.[/color]” -Sander titled his head, leaning into Christmas’ warmth –“[color cyan]I like doing things for you. You were always so nice to me. Even when I don’t really…deserve it.[/color]”
 
“[color cyan]I’ll do all the things you like.[/color]”

He looked up then, meeting eyes with Sander’s and they were [i]so close[/i] with Sander’s arm around his waist and face so near. There were plenty of things he wanted to do with Sander beyond just the explicit. Corny, saccharine things that television had always satirized or made light of, but to him sounded like heaven—long hours of quiet company on the couch, sweet walks along a shoreline where they would talk carelessly of days past, silly theme park rides where no one minded who and what they were, starry nights spent together on a blanket they’d have to wash later. But he couldn’t voice any of it, because there was so much more and words weren’t enough so he grabbed Sander’s hand and held it tight instead because in every instance of daydream wishes, he still held that hand. 

[color 8493ca]”M-me, too,”[/color] he agreed.

Sander indulged the motion, threading their fingers together. However, Christmas still didn’t take the burrito from him, so Sander just held it in front of the blond boy’s mouth, feeding it to him. There was surprise on the smaller boy’s childishly soft face with its lack of well-defined jaw and gentle lines. 

Christmas eventually bit into the food, taking it from Sander’s hand and leaving the loosely tied gauze dangling from his wrist, mess temporarily forgotten as he continued eating.

“[color cyan]So I looked up sex earlier.[/color]”

Christmas choked on the bite of eggs, sausage, and tortilla, coughing it down eventually before looking back up at Sander, panic on his face again.

“[color cyan]I just…wanted to know more. I wanted to make it good for you.[/color]” -Misunderstanding the blond boy’s startled look as disapproval, Sander quickly clarified, a crimson flush highlighted his cheeks –“[color cyan]I have never done it before.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”Y-you…want to h-have s-se-sex…? W-with…with m-me?”[/color] Christmas knew his face looked strange now, stuck between maximum concern and something like anticipation. [color 8493ca]”I-I’m…I…d-didn’t know if you…”[/color] The last part of Sander’s statement finally registered and he blinked. [color 8493ca]”W-wait. You h-haven’t?”[/color]

“[color cyan]I mean…we had…oral sex, r-right? And you said you like it.[/color]” -Sander was just confused now, racking his mind to see where he had gone wrong –“[color cyan]And yeah. I never…I can’t…[/color]” -He tapped the X on his throat instead finishing his sentence.

Christmas blinked, nodding but not sure how to answer. He did want it. But would it seem too much to agree? Especially when Sander was a virgin?

[color 8493ca]”I—um…I don’t—w-want to seem…s-selfish. But I did…I did like it…always if it’s…if it’s you…”[/color] His lips trembled, trying to quell embarrassment and shame all at once. Sander deserved better, really.

“[color cyan]Then I’ll make it better. There are…videos I can watch. I’ll learn.[/color]” -Sander said, the blush still stained his cheeks but his voice was firm, determined –“[color cyan]How do you like it?[/color]”

Christmas just breathed shakily, feeling Sander’s hand, their fingers locked together.

[color 8493ca]“A-anything you like.”[/color]

“[color cyan]That’s a bit vague.[/color]”

Christmas gulped, doing his best to think about something other than Sander’s offer because what he wanted was…not right. Wrong. Everything about him was wrong. A boy who liked girly things. A boy who liked other boys. His entire existence seemed like one huge mistake—or a joke on the universe’s part. He was too reliant on anyone who gave him the time of day, and especially Sander who gave and kept giving.

[color 8493ca]”Anything you want,”[/color] he repeated, hugging the steady chest in front of him and pressing his cheek against the heartbeat. [color 8493ca]”If…if you like something you…um…watched…I’ll do it.”[/color]

“[color cyan]I saw them…put it in.[/color]” -Sander suggested tentatively, his free hand went up to caress the short hair at Christmas’ neck -”[color cyan]In the videos, I mean.[/color]”

Christmas sighed when he felt warm fingers touch his neck and it took him a moment to realize what Sander had said. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sure he had heard right.

[color 8493ca]”D-do you—do you w-want to?”[/color]

“[color cyan]Do you?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”I…I like…that…kind of…stuff—w-when it’s…when it’s i-in me…”[/color] he answered slowly, burying his face in Sander’s shirt to hide his embarrassment. His hold grew tighter and he kept his face firmly hidden, heat rising to his neck and shoulders and he knew Sander would be able to feel it.

“[color cyan]I’ll do it then.[/color]”The caressing hand began to slid down to Christmas’ bare shoulders, running along the pale skin. The scent of coffee was slightly heightened, too. –“[color cyan]Anything you like.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”Don’t—don’t have to if you don’t—if you don’t like it,”[/color] he mumbled, trembling at the touch. 

“[color cyan]I want it.[/color]” -The hand crept lower, stopping at the waist of Christmas’ pants -”[color cyan]I think…I’ll like it.[/color]”

Christmas sucked in a breath when the hand trailed lower, hands balling the fabric of Sander’s shirt. [color 8493ca]”B-but…what if you don’t?”[/color]

“[color cyan]Why shouldn’t I? I like you.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”But o-only as a friend…r-right? Y-you don’t r-really understand, r-right?”[/color] The words came out before he could stop them, his defenses so easily down around Sander. He stiffened as his voice trailed off, panic and fear familiar on his nerves again.

Sander was quite for a few moments, thoughts tumbling back and forth in his head. He did care. He did like Christmas as a friend. But there was also more. Something he felt deep inside the space of his chest. Something he did not understand nor did he dare to explore, fearing that it would turn out to be just another trick of his fire. 

But in this rare moment of clarity, he [i]wanted[/i]. He dared to believe. 

He placed a hand Christmas’ shoulder, gently nudging the boy’s shoulder back so he could stare into cornflower blue eyes, the shade suddenly captivating. 

“[color cyan]I wouldn’t…do this with a friend.[/color]” -Just as the words formed, he leaned down to press a deep kiss against Christmas’ lips. 

It worried him—everything always did—when he was happy. When things went right. Because this was going [i]too[/i] right. A misunderstanding or something. It was absurd that Sander would feel something for him. Would hold him and know what it meant to be more than friends.

But he held on to the kiss anyway, tilting his head into it and letting the pressure of skin and lips defy his anxious heart. When Sander finally moved away, his lips and face were flushed once more, shaded red as the blood rose to his head.

[color 8493ca]”Have to—have to clean up f-first,”[/color] he mumbled, dazed. [color 8493ca]”And—and…st-stuff for…d-doing it…”[/color] He leaned forward, back into Sander’s chest and tried to stay steady, too much excitement and expectations rioting in his mind and he wasn’t prepared—not physically, not mentally.

[color 8493ca]”You like me…”[/color] he repeated into Sander’s chest, the words different now. [color 8493ca]”W-we’re…we’re a…y-you’re my…?”[/color] He stopped, unable to finish the sentence, that last acknowledgement horrifying if he was wrong.

“[color cyan]Your what?[/color]”

The next words were so quiet Sander almost missed them.

[color 8493ca]”…Are you my…my boyfriend?”[/color]

The question elicited a flutter in Sander’s chest, and he was suddenly grateful Christmas was hiding his face instead of looking up. Sander must look pretty stupid right now, expression torn between confusion and amazement and probably with a stupid smile too.
 
“[color cyan]Yeah.[/color]” -He said quickly –[color cyan]If you would have me. Yeah.[/color]”

Four years ago, an elderly woman who managed a small clothing store near his high school had asked Christmas if he had wanted the blue ribbon he kept staring at every time he passed her store. It hadn’t been a separate item, more of a mannequin’s accessory that seemed oddly out of place with its drab attire in brown and gray. He had passed by one day, and she had been closing up the store, curly gray hair unruly from the humidity. 

His eyes had glued themselves to the little blue ribbon again, but this time he had reason to stop, because the owner had stepped in front of him, the eyes kindly despite what the local neighbors knew of him and his oddities.

[color 8493ca]”Do you want it, dear?”[/color] she had asked, turning back to unlock the door. 

It had felt like the smallest and largest of blessings then, that someone for once allowed him to like. To want. And to have.

He remembered nodding quickly, repeatedly, eyes open so far he feared they would never close. 

He nodded now, just like that—liking, wanting, and having all within his reach where everything had been kept away before, like he watched it all from behind a glass wall. It was different from Alvin, who spun control and fear around him coated in a thin veneer of affection, and even then Christmas had held onto every scrap he could get, because there were so few things in this world he could reach like that. A ribbon. A stuffed animal. A handheld console. Material substitutes for what he wasn’t allowed to be.

But Sander was everything he had tried to replicate before—and more. More than him and his small problems. 

So he kept nodding, feeling the tears well up until they overflowed, but with his face still pressed against Sander the feelings had a place to go. Someone to hold dear.

A tell-tale patch of dampness began to spread on the front of his shirt, and Sander noticed that Christmas was crying. His hand immediately went back up to the nape of the healer’s neck, rubbing soothing circles.
 
“[color cyan]Don’t cry. Please.[/color]” -He pressed frantic kisses against blond hair, trying everything he knew to stop the distress –“[color cyan]Why are you crying?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”…Happy…”[/color] came the response through muffled sniffling.

“[color cyan]That’s a silly thing to cry about.[/color]” -Sander commented, but not without affection in his tone. He pressed a few more kisses onto the blond boy’s hair, then patiently sat with him until the sobbing subsided. There was a large wet patch on the front of his shirt by then, but Sander didn’t really mind, instead just insisted the healer finish his breakfast. When the blond boy finally complied, Sander remained nearby, one arm wrapping loosely around Christmas’ waist, enjoying the quiet comfort of simply being near. 
[/hider]