Chapter Text
Christmas Carols.
A bundle of joy compact into the voices of people singing.
Dew was a fan. Hearing the muffled tunes from the dining hall was what made this season the best.
Rain didn’t have a clue as to what music was. The word ‘carol’ hardly even knew its way around his vocabulary.
Which led them to this moment; the warm fireplace crackling along with the comforting sound of singing a few rooms down. The windowsill welcomed them to sit down, Rain in his corner while Dew was a little inch closer.
The room was lit with the warm glow of fire, a golden glance peering gingerly at what remained beside it. There was snow piled below them, framing these two bodies in a way that convinced both that it was destined to be this way.
Dew is the first to shuffle, inching closer as a low hum slips from his throat. It matches the song careening its way through the halls. Rain doesn’t comment, nor does he think of it. Instead, he shifts his attention to him, something gentle residing inside of him.
Dew didn’t need to look back. He didn’t think he wanted to. But he knew Rain was staring, and that made something flush against his face, up into the curve of his ears. He hummed, and maybe there was a crack or a forgotten note but to Rain it was just perfect.
The snow slows and it falls gently to the ground.
The fire is dying and Rain is slumped in his spot. Dew is barely humming anymore, now playing with the uneven spots on the windowsill. But crimson eyes remained trained on him.
His nose. His eyelashes. The dip of his lips. The bob of his neck as he swallows.
And the dull ache that occurs when suddenly everything turns back to his eyes, so ever low and focused on what lay below.
Why did it have to hurt? Rain, for the first time in the past hour and a half, turns away.
The curves of his palms perfectly slot against his eyes as he rubs them gently. Dew doesn’t avert his attention, although his finger does twitch against the wooden surface beneath his hands. Rain’s chest is thumping denyingly, nearly bursting from his ribs.
A second of a glance, hardly even a glance at all, and he’s nearly losing himself.
Dew was indescribable to Rain. He could learn all the facts about him in the world and he’d still remain a mystery. With eyes that bore a story so deep, so untouchable— Rain didn’t know what to feel.
So when Rain places a finger into dissecting that soul, so soft and unknown, he needs to ask himself;
Was coming to this place a mistake?
Rain, a man of very little knowledge on the world around him, knew not of this strange rustling in his chest of which emptied into his stomach. It was a disgusting feeling, one that made his heart race and the food in his stomach begin to bunch up and rise.
It felt too— well, that was the thing. Rain didn’t know how to describe this feeling bundled within him.
It felt hot, or at least as hot as it could get for Rain. And it felt overwhelming, like a word vomit anxiously trying to pry its way out of his mouth. And it was so, so concerning. Was it a side effect of his sickness from days prior? Was it a symptom of an upcoming death? Rain couldn’t tell for sure, but he was terrified.
Oh he was mad-- he was going completely insane over this sensation crunching up around his guts. He couldn't handle it, couldn't handle that gleam in his eyes or the wispy calmness his voice washed over him. Always him. Only him.
It was only ever Dew.
Dew obviously knew something was wrong a few days after their Christmas carol marathon.
He would never catch those eyes peering over at him anymore, nor did their conversations ever last more than a couple of minutes at a time. It wasn’t like when Rain was shy, as though they were meeting again for the first time. It was more like he was distressed, his thoughts wrapping tightly around his brain and damn near sawing it in half.
Dew was worried; he couldn’t even tell if he had a single strand of happiness left in him anymore. The bite of his lip whenever he felt that spike of nervousness, the crinkle of his nose when he was deep in thought, and the crack of his voice from the lack of its usage.
“Please” was all Dew wanted to say to Rain, watching him hunched over at the windowsill before he left to go get food. “Please talk to me” was all he wanted Rain to hear.
But his feet deny him that heaven. They turn and leave. He pleads for them to turn back; to run as fast as he could towards that slim string wringing him in.
Another step and he could nearly hear it snap.
Rain paces. The heels of his shoes clack against carpeted ground as he bangs a fist against his chest, the oxygen left in his lungs rapidly decreasing. He was going to die. He was going to die and he couldn’t even let Dew know first. Rain stops in his place and slams his fist against his chest, his heart skipping a beat and then continuing its rampage by accelerating with more.
He would love to tell him, to finally get some closure on what was wrong with him and what he did wrong. But if he told him, he knew it would mean Dew would be able to peer deep into his eyes. He would be able to hug his soul through eye contact alone and reassure him enough to not fear death as much as he has been for the last several days. And then Rain would regret ever catching this stupid feeling. He would regret knowing that he’d never be able to feel that again— the warmth and carefulness that Dew was capable of placing into Rain without words and just looks alone.
He couldn’t tell him. No matter what the cost was. No matter how painful the death was. No matter how excruciating it would feel to see that smile one last time knowing there would be nothing left. He could not tell Dew.
Rain stumbled to the windowsill, hands planted on the cold surface of the wood. And he shivers at the cold, embracing himself in hopes that the tightness around his arms would somehow slow down time.
The door knob jiggles and the door creaks open. And he just stands there like there isn’t a single thing wrong in the world. He has two plates of food like he always does, his heel closing the door behind him after learning how to open it with only his foot and an elbow. Rain looks up and he sees that stupid smile he always has. It was like a cure to his demise, the feelings that suffocated him numbing in seconds. All that replaced it was a feeling of warmth. Of home.
Rain would miss this. Moments exactly like this, built into his life like they were meant to be there, were what Rain wanted most. He wanted to live— to be able to have the honor and joy to have Dew come with plates of food and sit with him in silence or in laughter— it was the one thing he would do anything to live for.
“You hungry?”
The answer was always no, no matter how Rain was feeling. The logical answer would always be no. But Rain, despite the need for food being an option, always said yes. Because he doubts he could say no to Dew so easily.
Rain, seated at the windowsill, watches as Dew walks over with the plates. Each step made his heart rate rise, and Rain was almost completely sure Dew had some sort of evil power that was making this happen. But Rain knew Dew would never do something like that. Especially to him. And thus the theory was quickly dropped.
The silence was overwhelming, Rain’s fork dancing within the grip of his fingers. Dew notices, his mouth full of words he wished were easier to say. He fills it with eggs instead, eyes wavering over to the glass of the window beside him. Rain sticks his fork into his own mush of scrambled eggs, swallowing so dryly the sound echoed throughout the devastating silence. "I'll eat later," he utters out quickly, voice hoarse as though he hadn't used it for years. To Dew, it almost felt as though that were true.
Rain stands, the beat of his heart and the slow collapse of his stomach returning. Every thump was like an explosion going off in his ear, the sound pulsing against his skull. Dew, always looking for a way to make things worse for Rain, stands up with him. His plate tilts and falls back down with a loud 'tink'.
His breathing feels heavy as his head zips over to where Dew stood, golden eyes dying to be hardened but only capable of coming off as cautious.
Dew's mouth opens, something Rain has grown to be tenderly fond of. He wished he would say something, anything that would make this stop. Rain wished Dew would read his mind; he wished Dew knew exactly what to say to make Rain feel better like he always did. But, with the stutter of Dew's lips as his eyes looked between Rain's eyes and feet, Rain knew he'd caught the fire ghoul in a checkmate. His foot takes a slight step back and Dew is immediately filling in the space lost with a step forwards.
"Sit," Dew cries out slowly, voice as hushed as a man who only wanted to love. "Sit please," Dew repeats, the yearn of each word crawling closer to Rain.
His heart beat, the hammering of it against his ribs, could've been seen from his chest. Rain's face feels flushed, an uncomfortable warmth that reminded him of when he was sick. He looks up, taking a dive into that ocean that always seemed to call for more. The gold is brighter than Rain could remember, its gleam like the shine of a star within the deep folds of space.
He sits.
The action is immediately regretted by Rain as he sits face to face with his friend, the memories of them laughing, talking, or Rain just admiring Dew whenever he looked away came flooding back in. Acid rises up his throat and Rain is nearly vomiting at the idea of leaving Dew to be here alone.
A hand grips at his chest, Rain heaving into his palm as he mistakenly forgets to note Dew sitting opposite of him. Rains eyes sting as he chews into his cheek, regret seeping into his veins as Dew finally catches onto what's happening.
"Rain," Dew mumbles, the break in his voice alone tearing at Rain slowly. He's hastily at his side, one hand hovering over his shoulder while the other gripped at the edge of the windowsill. Dew curses under his breath, his hand twitching for his shoulder before returning to grasp at his own forehead in disbelief. Rain shakes his head, breath stuttering as he swiftly tries to assure any of Dew's worries and disregard the whole situation. No chance in Hell was Dew going to let that happen though.
His hot palm is in the crack of his elbow as he pulls him up. The heat soaks along Rain's skin and he has never felt anything more comforting in his life. The wince Dew sucked between his teeth is nearly lost within the sensation, Rain now standing on his feet. He barely has time to take in another breath as he's dragged across the room and out the door. The halls, cold and silent, are filled with the quick steps of the two. Rain presses his heels into the ground and Dew is turning around, an almost teary look in his eye.
"Are you stupid?" was all he could utter out, his palm visibly red and agitated as it clung tightly onto Rain's arm. His breath was shaky and Rain was immediately sorry for ever keeping this a secret. Dew's hold falters, his fingers fluttering from one spot on his arm to another. Rain's mouth opens and closes almost instantly, the rattling of his chest now calmly still within the rush of the sudden events. Dew is searching his face, hues darting from one corner to another. His empty hand comes up to Rain's cheek and he almost swore he saw Dew bite his tongue as he retracts it quickly. Rains mouth opens,
"Don't even insist that you're okay," Dew snaps, his feet starting up again as he pulls Rain down the hall. The skin of his palm is nearly hissing in pain as he only holds on tighter, Rain glancing between the hold on his arm to the back of Dew's head. There was no room to defend himself before Dew was back to spewing angrily.
"This is why you've been hiding away from me?" Dew whispers heavily, his other hand swaying at his side, balled into a fist. Rain watched as he released the grip, observing the crescent cuts indented into the skin from his nails. "What happened to us talking to each other about how we felt? To speaking?" Dew nearly sounds like he's about to cry. Rain gnaws at the meat of his cheek-- he had been the one to initiate that talk too.
Dew is slowing down, his steps almost hesitating as he continues to walk forwards. Rain, with his head down in shame, remains silent.
They stop at the door. The place where Dew was leading him to. The infirmary.
Rains throat feels stiff. Had he not kept this in, he would've dealt less of a burden on Dew. But he was going to die. He was going to die and he'd rather not have Dew knowing before it even happened.
Dew is almost reaching for the doorknob when he stops. He pulls it back and stands beside Rain, his hold on his arm releasing slowly. He can hardly even look up at him without feeling the disappointment in himself crushing him whole. Dew was looking at him, watching the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.
"Why didn't you tell me," Dew cries out gently.
The world was falling to pieces. And it wasn't because Rain was about to die. It wasn't because he didn't eat his meal today. It wasn't because the rapid beating of his heart was starting up again and the deep pain of his stomach falling was conscious.
It was because he hurt Dew.
Rain stammers, hand unconsciously reaching up to grab at his shirt. For the first time in a long time, Rain was out of words to say to Dew. He didn't know what to say to makes this better. His final days on this horrible earth and he'd blown it by disappointing the only ghoul accepting of him. Rains breathing falls shallow and the rapid beat of his heart falls to a dull ache.
"I'm sorry," he pleads.
Time felt like it was stopping, and not in the way that Rain wanted it to. It felt like when Dew was injured from the rain. Like when Dew nurtured him back to health after he got sick. Like when they would sit at the windowsill, bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight.
Warmth. There was warmth on his shoulder.
Dew, through the pain, placed his hand on Rain's shoulder and he did the unthinkable.
He smiled. He showed Rain something so merciful and caring that Rain knew for sure that he was doomed. How would he die? How, when something like this was waiting for him everyday. Rain, filled with days worth of sorrow and regret, nearly fell to his knees.
"I..."
Dew seems to snap his mouth shut, fear swallowed whole as he stutters it out.
"I care too," Dew mouthed lightly.
Rain, hands shaking and ears hot, stood speechless beneath the weight of Dew's words.
He cares too.
He cares.
Rain is guided inside by Dew, the nurse sat at her desk being an old woman with a kind smile. She said no words, only nodding to an empty bed. Rain watches Dew converse with her, his words careful. For, while she worked in the same building as them, she was still a human. She didn't seem to mind his caution, only continuing to smile and listening to each word. Once he was finished, Dew turned to Rain and smiled one more time. A smile that told him he would still be there for him, no matter what. As he steps for the door, Rain almost stands up to follow after. The elder woman only holds a hand out kindly and nods out to Dew who spares one last glance at Rain before he leaves.
"You’re not going to die," she calmly utters as she watches the door click to a close. Rain, baffled, nearly asks her how she knew what he was thinking. The nurse doesn't give him a second to speak though as she pulls up a chair.
The nurse smiles knowingly, observing how his gaze never stopped checking towards the door.
“I already know,” she says with a laugh drawn into her voice. Rain felt stiff as he sat on the bed near the woman. He pries at the corner of his nail and feels the dip of his eyebrow. The woman begins to pull at the loose button on the cuff of her sleeve.
“How do you feel around him?”
Rain goes frigid as though the coldness of the world had finally gotten to him. He looks up, curious as to why she was still fixated on that button.
“I feel normal.“
She taps her finger lightly and waits longer. The room shudders in silence. Rain hesitates.
He didn’t know there was a right and wrong answer to this question. He thinks for a strong second and suddenly the beating is back. Thinking about it— him— it made something stir.
“I feel like… I’m always about ready to burst a lung,” Rain admits. The lady has the nerve to laugh, Rain’s mouth curving slightly into a frown. Was he only here to be ridiculed? Humiliated as every one of his kind is by humans? The lady, with a welcoming smile and a soft look in her eyes, waves her finger in a circle as to point out him continuing. Rain sighs.
“I feel like my hearts about to explode.. I like it. When he looks at me and I feel like that. But it feels so doomed.”
A foot restlessly taps outside, nearly muted from the thickness of the walls.
“My stomach feels stressed when he smiles.”
Rains fingers embrace each other, the chamber of darkness enveloping his raw cuticles.
“His eyes feel like a home that I can rely on returning to. I hate it. I just…”
Memories flow through his head, that familiar feeling sneaking up behind him. He wished Dew were there to shoo it away.
“I want to speak to him again. I want to be able to look at him and just have things back to how they used to be,” Rain expresses painfully. His back leans forwards as he ignores the words he was letting out of his mouth.
“And why do you want that?” the lady asks while crossing her legs and kicking her foot slightly.
Rain’s face contorts to one of confusion. Why else wouldn’t he want that?
”Because I—”
Something catches in his throat. The truth or something deceptive, he doesn’t know. His lips close and he feels them quiver.
Rain watches as the nurse arranges her seat to directly face him, the ghoul puzzled as she reaches her hands out to him. She only keeps them there, staring at Rain patiently. With much hesitance, he places his cold palms into her fingers.
The woman rubs her thumbs gently against the skin of the tops of his hands. Rain felt enchanted.
“Rain,” she starts, startling him with the knowledge of knowing his name, “his heart has never been fuller after meeting you.”
Something was beating inside of him. It wasn’t the loud, fast booming. It wasn’t an explosive pound that shook the bones in his body. No, it felt like the warm hold of something enveloping his heart.
Her hands were warm. So, so warm against Rain’s. He can only stare back at her with a hopeful but lost look. She only nods her head once back and smiles. Then, her eyes switch over to the door for a split second. They return to Rain who seems to understand from her eyes alone.
Rain only feels the squeeze of her hands around his before she’s up. He’s handed a hot pack and a tootsie roll at the door.
The nurse doesn’t watch him leave the room. Rain opens the door and is met with orange sunlight peeking between trees from the window. A weight is lifted from his chest and, when Rain looks to his left, he sees Dew. He was leaned up against the wall, head down and arms crossed, waiting as though the outcome of this situation could kill him.
His footsteps immediately brought Dew's head up. His brows are distressed as he looks up, hardly recognizing Rain at first. But when he does, those gold hues glow brighter than the sunset. There's a shimmer in there, and Rain likes to recognize it as longing. For he's seen himself in Dew's eyes. His expression mirrors Dew's almost exactly.
His arms stutter, shifting up from his sides before they pulse and then crumble back down. His skin was still raw and sore from the contact they'd had moments prior. But Dew wanted this. No- he needed this.
Arms rise back up and Dew is holding Rain like his life depended on it. He was scared, so fucking scared. But he could feel him still. And he could hear the stutter of his breath as he slowly held him. And he could speak words to him with the hope of a response back.
"Tell me you’re not leaving," is all Dew could mutter out grimly, the scalding heat of water against fire breaking past the barrier of their clothes. Rain, who was usually considerate of touching Dew as to not hurt him, begins to embrace him tighter. His breath hiccups and his face was unreadable.
All Dew feels is a shake from left to right and the circle of Rain's thumbs against his back.
His heart beat strums quickly like the erratic pace of a guitars strings and Dew feels home in the bitter sting. A string of voices bounce from wall to wall, a carol so bitter yet something both of them accepted. The candles lining the halls endearingly wrapped them in a blanketed glow.
Dew pulls back, wincing between gritted teeth. Everything calms though when he sees Rain. What once was a sharp burn all along his body slowed to a dull hum.
There was nothing more he wanted.
Something snapped in him. Something in the way they bathed in this precious light; in the way Rain was here with him. His hand curled a little further than it should’ve. Did something push him forwards or did he lean?
A pinky wraps around another. It doesn’t last long, but Rain lets the feeling replay over and over again.
The sweet lull of voices harp on through the building. Rain feels it, that rhythmic beat in his chest. And he accepts it, indescribably grateful. In a silent agreement, they walk side by side back to their room.
Despite the frigid winter air denying growth to anything, something within the ministry bloomed that day.