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unknownarmageddon · 2 months

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cross set his cup down, his tired eyes taking in the sloshing wave of his hot chocolate. it gleamed a pretty hazel brown in the light of the setting sun, steaming hotly, freshly poured. the sweet taste still burned his tongue in a sugary aftertaste that settled his rickety nerves.

the whisps fluttered up into the air, and cross felt a pulse of warm fondness, following the curling trails until the overlapped with the thicker pale smoke that killer himself blew out from where he sat outside on their short little balcony.

they moved in together just recently, and had finally settled into routine; cross with his daily cup of hot cocoa and killer with his daily smoke. cross's softened eyelights traced down the smoke, back to the source, only to find that killer was staring back at him.

the warm feeling in his chest sent his cheeks alight, tightening his throat and making his soul balloon in his chest, and he was helpless to the broad smile that broke out across his face. he felt dizzy with joy, with a happiness so strong that he felt like he'd choke on it.

the balcony doors slid open and the bitter twang of killer's cigarette filled the air, mingling with the sweet chocolatey smell, and cross couldn't think of anything else he'd rather smell.

"you're staring," killer chuckled, putting out his cigarette in his ashtray and hissing out the final little puff of smoke. it parted around him, spinning as he stepped through the fading cloud and sliding right into his rightful place beside cross, slotting himself against him so neatly that it floored cross once more with how perfectly they fit.

every passing day was another added moment of certainty that they belonged together. killer's head found its place on cross's chest, cross's arm settled where it belonged around killer's shoulders, and cross hummed as he pressed a kiss to killer's skull, "so were you."

"you just looked so damn pretty, i couldn't help myself."

cross's soul fluttered, and he felt a pressure bubble in his chest, a need to just kick his feet and squeal and shout his love from the rooftops, but all he managed was a shuddering breath, and he put his phone down, pulling killer's head up by the chin to slot their mouths together, relishing in the surprised, but pleased noise that rumbled between them from the depths of killer's chest.

this was it. killer was it, this was where it all was. cross didn't ever want to see an end to this, he'd give his everything if only to keep killer here, to keep time standing still--

cross opened his eyes.

the fire popped and cracked steadily behind him, warming his back, dimmer but still as hot as before. he'd have to add some fuel to it, killer was always prone to getting cold at night more than cross was.

cross carefully slid out of the sleeping back, taking gentle care not to move too harshly or suddenly, and he quietly knelt by the fire, nudging some branches and twigs into it and stoking the fire with the tip of his machete.

he stared into the fire, his eyelights dim in the dark, bags under his eyes, his sockets aching with a stiff dryness and stuffiness that came from lack of proper sleep.

a chilly breeze blew by, and he shivered as it went right through his worn shirt and pants. he didn't have his coat available though, not tonight.

he tended to the fire a little longer, and lifted his head, still heavy with sleep, to squint at the muddy red horizon, trying to gauge how many hours of night they had left. the dark was a little more diluted than before.

cross left the fire, and crouched by his backpack, his fingers numb from the biting cold as he found canned soup. it was the last one before they would have to eat dry packaged food, until they could find more.

he pushed the can into the hot soil close to the fire, burying it halfway and scraping some of the glowing bits of wood over it, watching as they pulsed red and orange over and over. he clapped his hands a bit, clearing the dirt from his hands, checking the distant horizon once more for a moment, letting his hands hover over the fire.

the chill finally sent him silently padding his way back to the bedrolls, hands warmed by the fire, the rest of him aching from the chill. it didn't matter, though. not tonight.

killer's head poked out just barely from the layers he was tucked in, his face pale even for a skeleton. his breath was shaky, thin and reedy, pained, his expression contorted in discontent.

he stirred as cross's warmed hands cupped his chilled cheeks, his eyes hazily cracking open to the a slit, and his eyelight, fuzzy and blurred with pain peered up at cross.

"...up..?"

cross shook his head, "no, no.. not yet--" he bit his tongue, hard enough to cut into the ecto, before adding a hesitant, "sweetheart."

the pet name was stilted from him, awkward and tinged with discomfort, but it earned a wry smile all the same, and that was all he wanted. it made it worth it. he could try, he could go that extra step, for killer's sake.

"c'm back t'bed," killer slurred, and cross scrambled to heed it, readjusting killer first, setting him closer to the fire and easing him onto his side with careful touches, wincing when killer whimpered at the movement.

"easy, i've gotcha," cross reassured, bowing over him to nuzzle a kiss to killer's skull, the act full of apologetic affection. killer settled again, whispering hoarsely, "m'cold.."

cross's mouth pressed into a thin, upset line of dismay at the watery tone, the sheer misery in killer's voice, and he grit his teeth before hastily shedding his thick, long sleeve shirt, "okay, just- one second, amor, one moment."

killer whined his protest, the sound wrenching at cross's soulstrings, but he forced himself to stay on task, standing by the fire to hold his shirt over it, close enough that he risked getting burned by any embers that went skittering up into the sky.

he gladly took that risk.

it took a minute, a minute longer than he would have liked, but he needed to warm up killer. he waited, letting his bones soak up the heat, retaining it far better than killer could, his magic greedily clinging onto the heat, the temperature letting his magic flow freely again and his natural heat, a fraction of it, returned to him. having high LV really was, sometimes, handy, and as much as he hated the occasional episode it brought him [and he fucking despised the pain it put killer in, he hated it so much, he fucking hated it--]

he was thankful to have it now, regardless, because it allowed killer some relief in times like these.

cross hurriedly returned to the bedrolls, trying his damned best to keep his touch gentle, to not jostle killer too much, as he pulled the fire-warmed shirt over killer's freezing bones, and killer's broken moan of relief soothed cross's rankled instincts, his soul calming just the slightest.

"okay?" he asked lowly, and killer's wavering eyelight flickered, focusing again on cross's face, and he even sounded a little better, just barely. it wasn't enough, no where near better enough for cross, but it was still something.

"m-mmn," killer mumbled affirmatively, and cross heaved his own relieved sound, and finally, slid himself back into the sleeping bag, still so careful, whispering apologies over and over at every hurt warble killer let out.

LV breaks were ruthless on killer.

cross's LV wasn't anywhere near as high as killer's. he hadn't started gaining any until after the world ended, only ever killing these days out of necessity; defending himself, catching food, fighting for supplies. survival. his LV was manageable. it gave him headaches, mild migraines at worst, left him itchy in a way that drove him up the walls sometimes, and gave him heat flashes, warming him to the point of shedding most of his outer layers if it was bad enough, but he was fine at the end of the day. it never lasted long.

killer's LV was... something.

it made cross wonder, sometimes; how the hell had killer's LV gotten so high? this kind of LV didn't come from just survival. killer never really told him why his LV was so high, and despite cross's curiosity, he didn't push for it.

it was another life, anyways, another person who'd collected that LV, and now it was killer who was left behind coping with it.

it drained the strength from his body, weakened his soul, pulled his magic thin, making it painful for him to move, to breathe, his magic stretched so thin at his joints that he'd described the feeling of moving like being torn in half. his bones itched fiercely, so much that it burned sometimes, the feeling leeching outwards from where his soul hovered over his chest. and the migraines.

killer groaning into cross's chest, his every other wail breaking with hitching sobs, his eyesockets, his nose, his mouth even, gushing with black liquid so thick that it strung between them every time killer pulled back, staining cross's shirt with thick clumps like honey or syrup. he was choking on it, spitting it up in chunky globs laced with red blood that made cross's own magic twist with nausea.

the migraines were the worst of it. killer compared the feeling to that of a concussion, of getting struck in the head so hard, you see white. it makes me want to scream, killer had said. on a scale of one to ten, one being a papercut and ten being a broken bone, it's a solid fucking twenty. i think the only thing that would hurt more is my soul getting ripped in half.

killer pressed his black-stained face into cross's bare sternum, and cross shuddered at how ice cold the sticky fluid was. it tickled the inside of his ribs as it slid in thick drops over his bare ribcage. cross ignored it easily, pulling killer's trembling body to his own, grimacing at the chill killer's body gave off.

that was another thing. it was either a burning feeling, leaving killer feeling so incredibly warm that cross had once caught killer lying fully nude in an ice-cold puddle, or it left killer so cold that he felt like he'd shrivel up into dust, trembling and whimpering in cross's arms as he desperately sought out every bit of warmth cross's body and the layers piled onto him could offer.

cross winced as killer's cold breath brushed over cross's collarbone, and cross finally caved into killer's earlier request from the night before, and let his ecto form fully, already warm with cross's warmer magic and his intent to soothe, his soul summoning as well, sitting readily contained within the opaque magic of his ecto and ribcage.

"okay?," he asked, checking first, and only when killer nodded, cross pulled him flush to himself, doing his best to wrap himself around killer, hugging him to his chest and letting his magic's intent to warm, heal, protect, soothe seep into killer.

another whimper bubbled from killer's open mouth, his eyes squeezed shut as his soul, as it always did when they were this close, phased through cross to sit within cross's ribcage, right up against cross's own soul, right where it belonged. a shiver wracked killer's body as his soul, buzzing with hurt and upset, pressed itself into cross's welcoming soul, soaking up the offered warmth and love.

cross held killer close, tense, uneasy, as killer folded his arms within the space between them, and he was so cold still, but, just a little less.

a little better.

"..i had a dream about you," cross whispered, low, because killer once told him that he hated the quiet.

killer huffed a quiet laugh, his soul's buzzing wavering, changing in pitches, and the faint murmur of affection passed between their souls. the corner of cross's mouth twitched upwards at killer's croaky voice, "t-tha's'cute.. whassabout?"

cross ran a hand up and down killer's back, his eyes shutting as he tried to recall the faint, fuzzy memory of warmth and contentment.

"well, it was.. short. but," cross rolled the words on his tongue for a second before recounting it, "the sun was setting.."

his voice filled the quiet, soft and as unobtrusive as he could make it, recounting every detail he could recall, until he recounted all he could remember, and continued on, making up more and more, their souls singing to each other within his chest.

he wasn't sure when it happened, only noticing it when killer's soul responded like it was speaking through water, and cross glanced down, and found killer sound asleep, his cheeks flushed a healthy red and expression soft and lax.

his breath was warm and steady on cross's bare chest.

cross's soul pulsed, warming, a feeling ballooning in his chest and tightening his throat, and he was helpless to the crooked smile that broke out across his face.

this was where it all was.

-p anon :]

"but i'll hold you like i do love you" arms by the paper kites

OH MY GOD????????????