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can a heart combust?

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So, they were dating.

That word still felt weird on Cassian’s tongue, so he resorted to a rushed ‘he’s my boyfriend’ whenever asked.

They haven't kissed yet, because they're both a little unused to the idea.

Vincent says it's because he's used to not being able to openly be affectionate. Cassian says that it's just...weird.


he doesn't explain that it's because he spent so long convinced that no one could love him- especially not someone as amazing and kind and perfect as the boy he was lucky enough to find himself with.

He doesn't deserve vincent, and he knows that.


The other male just smiles and says it's okay, and that it's weird for him too.


Maybe it was normal to lay in bed thinking about how stupidly in love with your boyfriend you are, maybe not, it wasn't like it would be his first time being out of the norm.

A knock at the door had Cassian’s head snapping up and his mind grabbing ahold of the glass in his window, just in case.


he ignores the voice in his head that says he always says ' just in case' , what about when he messes up and hurts someone he cares about?


It opens and Vincent pokes his head in slightly, his eyes red, and he can feel himself relax, trying to let go off the window, it's always a harder effort to let go than it is to grab on.

Of course, it breaks without any noises and the pieces of glass fall onto the ground, both inside and out.

They both flinch as it hits the floor.


“Hey,” He says, careful to keep his voice gentler than he usually does.

It's not like it's the first time Vincent has ended up in his room because of a nightmare- he's usually asleep, though.

He's never been good at emotional stuff, so he usually wakes up and just let's his boyfriend bury himself in his arms.


“Hey.” After a few seconds, Vincent shoots it back at him, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. His mind is running a million thoughts per second, that much is clear from his face.


He can hear the tiredness in his voice, it's like looking at a flash from the past, and he thinks he feels pain in his chest at it.


Cassian sits up, scooting over to him, and his shoulder has Vincent's head on it within seconds. The dark haired male’s hand finds his and grasps it like he’ll disappear.


he remembers, vaguely, vincent mentioning that when he was originally alive, the only time he could show the girl he loved affection was late at night, in one of their rooms.

the idea originally left a sour taste in his mouth, though at the time he was too unaware of his own feelings to realize why.


He opens his mouth and is pretty sure he had something in mind to say, but finds he can't force any words out, so he just squeezes his boyfriend’s hand.


“I'm sorry,” Vincent says, softly, and he wants to reassure him, wants to say there's nothing for him to be sorry for, but goddamn, is he bad at words, or so he tells himself, so he just cranes his neck slightly, bumping their heads together, “I should really learn how to deal with these myself, huh? Hell, I should already know- they've been happening so long.”


He hears far too much of himself in those words, he has to gulp down the old thoughts, so cruel he could barely stand it then, and can't stand it now. perhaps, he's always been a little too mean to himself.


Clicking his tongue, Cassian retreats slightly to look him in the face.


he regrets it within seconds as he watches Vincent's face contort in panic.


He sighs, running a hand through his hair, and asks, “Did I ever tell you that I had nightmares when I was with the circus?” voice far sadder than he wishes it was. He really hopes he doesn't flinch at the mention of his old ‘home.’


vincent feels more like home than that place ever has, though, and he wishes he could find the courage to say that, but he's scared. so scared. his mind screams that his words might make vincent realize he doesn't deserve him.


There's a pause. The slightest shake of a head. He decides that's a good enough answer for him.


“I would wake up every night, teary-eyed and seeking comfort- I'd always tell myself it was silly for me to be upset,” He recites the story without thinking, he remembers it so vividly yet it feels so far away, “Do you think that was true? I mean, it happened every night and every time I would go crying to whoever wasn't repulsed by me.”


The response is immediate, and exactly what he hoped it would be, “Of course not! You-” Vincent freezes and seems to think about what was said, and what he was about to say, “Oh.”


There's a long moment where they just look at each other.


Slowly, he makes his way back to the front of the bed, and Vincent follows, laying down beside him, not quite touching his side.

Of course, Cassian turns over and, in a move that surprises them both, pulls the other male close to his chest.


he wonders if his sudden boldness is fueled by the need to tell himself that ' it's okay, you're allowed to be happy' , and to fight against the part of his mind that screams he doesn't deserve it.

he will never be as good as vincent, but that's okay.

because they love each other, no matter how shy to say it they both are.


Vincent quietly laughs and pushes himself a little bit up. He can feel arms make their way around him as they face each other.


“Cas,” His voice is serious, but the word is mixed with a yawn. Cassian thinks it shouldn't be legal for any human being to be this cute, and wonders if it's possible for a heart to combust, “Can- can I kiss you?”


Well, if the heart combusting is possible, then that's what just happened to him, he's pretty sure.


“Yes. Yes, please.” He chokes out, barely managing to make the words coherent in his rush to get them out of his brain and into the air. Because he knows that it's better to get it out as soon as possible than wait too long.


he's done the latter far too much.


For a moment, Vincent smiles, in a way that makes him look way younger than anyone who's technically over a hundred years old should be able to, before leaning in and kissing him so gently he's half convinced he thinks he might break.


And it's definitely weird. It’s really fucking weird. But they're both weird, as well, and neither seems to mind the strangeness of it.


he realizes, heart-stoppingly, that he would do anything for this boy. that he's fallen hard and he can't even bring himself to care, because despite how odd it feels to kiss someone when you're barely learning that you don't have to hate yourself, it feels unmistakably right somehow.


After what was most definitely not long enough, Vincent backs away from his face, looking uncertain but happy. For all of two seconds he has to keep himself from pulling his boyfriend back over.


But that only lasted for two seconds. Because after that, Vincent is grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer once more, pressing their lips together much harder than the last time.


When they finally break apart, he barely realizes there are tears running down his face until Vincent is reaching forward, hesitantly, and cupping his face, wiping his eyes with a thumb.


“Was that too much?” Vincent sounds more genuinely concerned than anyone other than Analia has been for him in a long while.


He manages a small smile.


“No,” He starts, voice barely reaching a whisper as he catches the dark haired male’s hand in his when it begins to move away, he holds it firmly against his face, “I love you, you big Dork.”


he’s thankful vincent doesn't ask why he's crying, because he doesn't think he could explain that he's just so fucking in love and so not used to it that sometimes it's overwhelming.


There's the slightest giggle and it's so contagious that soon they're both laughing, looking at each other like they put the stars in the sky.


“I love you too, even if you're a much bigger dork than me.” Vincent says, out of breath, but smiling widely. Cassian shoves at him lightheartedly, smiling back because he can't get it to leave his face.


Then, for a while, they just smile, arms wrapped around each other and feeling safe. They fall asleep eventually, curled together with more soft ‘ I love you’ s on their lips.


And if anyone notices the way they kiss again, before Vincent heads back to his room in the morning, and hesitate to pull away for slightly longer, well, they don't mention it.

But the knowing look Jamie gives them is unmistakable, despite how good she is at masking it. Cassian notices it, even though Vincent definitely doesn't, and glares at her for the rest of the day.


“So, you two finally kissed?” Nana asks, much too loudly, when she and a few of the others are sitting on the only couch they ever use with them both.

She says it so bluntly that he thinks he hears a cup shatter in the other room. That's immediately confirmed as he hears Lilea let out a little shriek and Jamie yell his name and tell him to stop breaking things.


Nana snickers at that, shaking her head, and turning her attention back to whatever it was they were watching, he wasn't paying attention. Especially not now.


So, they were dating, and apparently, most of the others knew that they kissed.



When Vincent's hand grasps at his, clearly anxious about anyone but them knowing, he gives him a look that's half ‘It's okay, calm down’ and half ‘No one will hurt you ever again if I have anything to say about it’ and watches as his face turns into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.


He's relaxing, slightly, which is a start, Cassian supposes.


And then, as if the universe decided it would be really funny, Cecil and Jules are kissing, and he watches the tension slip away from Vincent’s face.


Well, that's one thing their excessive amount of PDA is good for, he guesses.