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It started out as a joke, honestly, way back when he was just summoned. Dew had gotten up in his face about something stupid, something benign. Aether could not for the life of him remember what had gotten him so riled up. But there he was yelling and spitting and ranting as Dew was to do and the only thing Aether could think about was how pretty he was angry. He would never tell him. Dew stomped his foot down when he realized he was getting nowhere and Aether wasn't going to humor him.
"Want me to kiss it better?" Aether asked picture of innocence, an oblivious smile already perfected on his dumb fucking face. Dew was convinced he was only here to cause him grief. Satan's funny little way of punishment for whatever he had done to deserve this. He could hear another ghoul snicker in the background. He stomped his feet again, bristled and growled at Aether, and stormed off.
Aether kept asking after that. Every time Dew let his anger win. Every tantrum, every screaming match, and every time he was in pain, no matter how small the hurt was. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" And every time he had that dumb, little, gentle smile and innocent look. Dew wanted to wipe it off his face. Punch him, make him regret asking something so stupid. But he couldn't, the only thing he could do was walk away, as the fire inside him burst at the seams every time the question was posed.
At first, Dew was convinced it was anger. Indignity at the question, frustration at feeling infantilized, rage at not being taken seriously. But slowly... he noticed other things too.
He noticed how gentle Aether was with Rain. How they joked around and how Aether fixed his tie, or his shirt, or his mask on stage. It made his chest constrict. It hurt. And then Aether just pulled him back too, fixed his tie, and sent him on his way like it was nothing and Dew was never happier for the full face covering.
He noticed to the lengths Aether went on stage to make Dew look fearsome, how he was a menace and an idiot, but oh so entertaining. How he would pull out Dew's anger and then act like he needed to run away lest he faces the wrath of the fire ghoul. While off the stage the man never budged but just stared Dew's anger and ferocity in the face and smiled.
He noticed how the question had become gentler, less annoying, more heart-racing as time went on. Dew cursed himself. Kicking and screaming... he had started to like the ghoul and his company. He hated it.
Dew had been practicing by himself, guitar in hand and playing like he wanted to break it. Might actually have broken it, if his finger hadn’t broken first. Well, the skin of his finger would be more accurate. He cursed and threw his guitar at the cushions for sound dampening on the floor and stared at the offending hand.
"You okay?" Came the sudden question from the door, startling Dew. He looked up with a glare but stayed silent. Aether, the bastard, walked in, a look of concern, as if, on his face. He looked at Dew's hand, blood already dripping on the floor. "Want me to kiss it better?" he asked with that stupid fucking smile. Dew surprised himself and stuck out his hand, pout on his face. He was fucking done, and to be honest, just wanted to see what Aether would do.
Aether let out a startled breath but continued smiling. He closed the distance between them easily with big strides. He cocked an eyebrow at Dew and grabbed his hand, cradling it in his bigger one. Then, Dew held his damn breath because what the fuck, Aether leaned forward and placed a very gentle, very soft kiss right next to the cut on his offending finger.
Dew felt warmth spread through his hand, not his own, not like fire. Warmth like drinking hot tea, taking a warm bath. Warmth like a hug. He looked down and the bleeding had slowed, the pain not nearly what it was before.
Aether was still looking at him, gentle smile having made way for a cocky grin, "was that so hard?" Dew pulled his hand back like he got burned and glared. He opened his mouth to speak, retort, be mean, but his jaws snapped shut again. That... that was nice... what was that. Aether must have seen... or sensed his confusion. "Quintessence," he said softly, in clarification, "I make people better, feel better, it's what I do."
Dew glared at him again. "I knew that," he bristled and stepped away, taking up his guitar again and ignoring the presence of Aether entirely. What wasn't there couldn't confuse him, couldn't distract him. Couldn't make him feel nice and warm and soft.
Life continued as normal, well as normal as it could. Aether kept asking to kiss it better and Dew kept telling him to get fucked. Until he didn't. Until he just wordlessly stood there, not telling him no... but not telling him yes either. Aether didn’t kiss him again but did touch his shoulder, or arm, or back, or the rare quick pat on the head. Each touch was that same warmth, same pain relief, stress relief, even anger relief. And it just made Dew more confused, because something was missing. Something felt wrong alongside the good. Out of place. Like a puzzle piece that had been lost long ago and no one knew what it looked like anymore.
It was a dreary fucking night somewhere in the summer. It should have been warm, should have been a cloudless sky full of stars. Should've been, but it wasn’t. It was dreary and rainy and just a fucking mess. Dew had taken a walk around the abbey because Aether was on his mind again and he couldn’t fucking sleep. Not that he would admit that to literally anyone.
It wasn’t even raining hard, but he was still soaked through the bone and shivering when he walked back to his quarters. He blew out a frustrated breath through his nose when he rounded the corner. Aether was fucking waiting by his door, motherfucker. Just his luck. He was already on his way to turn around, walk back, maybe climb through his damn window. Anything to not have this confrontation right now.
Of course, Aether had already spotted him. "Dew?!" He called, just loud enough so Dew couldn’t pretend to haven't heard it, but not loud enough to wake anyone else up. Considerate asshole.
Dew sighed and stopped, but didn’t turn around, just waiting for Aether to get to him. "Fucking hell, you're soaked," Aether whispered when he got close enough, "and shivering, are you okay."
Dew kept his gaze firmly to the ground, gnashing his teeth together in frustration. Everything in him wanted to lean into Aether, feel that warmth again. And everything in him was fighting that feeling. A war of wills in his own damn head.
"Dew?" Aether asked softly again, real worry in his voice now. Dew saw in the corner of his eyes that Aether made a move to reach for him but bailed out. Clearly, he didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to push. Then a soft strained chuckle left Aether like he was forcing himself to lighten the mode. "Do you want..." he started, but never got to finish his sentence.
Dew shoved him hard and Aether stumbled back a little, face startled, not fake startled, real startled. Aether opened his mouth to say something but dew pushed him again. "Shut up!" he growled, "just fucking shut up!" He had his hands planted on Aether’s chest, fingers curling tightly in the material of his shirt. "Shut up," he repeated, this time nothing more than a whisper.
As if Aether could read his mind, or maybe it was just the fucking quintessence or whatever the fuck, Dew didn’t give a shit, Aether pulled closer. His hands cupped Dew's on his chest. He walked forward until Dew was forced up against a wall. Softly he cupped Dew's chin, his other hand still cradling dew's. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" He asked, softly, finishing his previous sentence. Dew raised his head to look at him, feeling pathetic. "Just shake yes or no," Aether continued, quietly, "don't have to ask for anything." And wasn’t that just the sentence that broke something in Dew's heart, something in his brain. He very slowly, very rigidly moved his head up and down. Aether smiled and pressed forward, pushing Dew deeper into the wall, trapping his hands between their bodies. The hand that was on his chin, cupped his cheek instead, fingers sliding over his jaw, coming to rest above and below his ear.
Dew closed his eyes and held his breath, anticipating whatever was to come. Aether pressed his mouth against Dew's forehead, kissing him there gently, but firmly. The warmth was like an explosion. A sudden stream of comfort and relief washed over Dew, from the point of his forehead all the way to his toes. He shuddered and if he wasn’t already pressed up against the wall, his knees would have buckled from underneath him. While his clothes stayed damp it didn’t matter, he wasn’t cold and miserable anymore. To be quite honest, he didn’t even fully understand what he had been so upset about either.
"Better?" Aether asked softly when he pulled back. Dew mumbled something incoherent, face falling forward, mindlessly burrowing into Aether's chest. Aether chuckled and wrapped his arm around him, holding him more firmly. The warmth and comfort kept spreading from every contact point Dew had with Aether.
"You're still annoying...." Dew mumbled, his voice muffled by layers of fabric. The statement lost some of its edge as he pushed closer, his hands and arms winding our Aether's waist, scared he was gonna let go.
Aether laughed, the deep rumble, oh so pleasant against Dew's forehead, and placed another soft kiss against Dew's hair. "That," he started, "I cannot kiss better."
Dew huffed, mumbled something else that sounded suspiciously like, "I can," and then raised his head. Before Aether could react, dew had grabbed his collar and pulled him further down, kissing him.
Aether smiled into the kiss and cupped his face again. He gently swayed then back and forth. He had started to purr slightly and Dew wanted to melt at the sound. They stood like that for a while, just kissing, no rush behind it and Dew felt the last of his worries and doubt and pain slowly disappear.
When they broke the kiss, was when Dew finally realized his face was wet. As was the collar of his shirt. He could no longer be wet from the outside rain though. He touched his cheek confused, wiping away at the wetness, frowning. Then a blush crawled over his face and he wiped more aggressively. He had been crying. He hadn't realized it but he had been crying silently. A small bit of renewed panic started to rise in his chest and his first instinct was to try and push Aether away. But when he tried he couldn’t find the strength.
Aether hummed soothingly and wiped away the tears. "It's okay... that's normal... you're not weird," he mutters softly as he pulls up his sleeves in his hands and dried Dew's face, "just a side effect," He looks bashful when he says it, like he is slightly embarrassed, while Dew is supposed to be the one embarrassed.
Dew hums in understanding, but words have left him. He waits patiently until Aether is done and then cracks a yawn, trying to stifle it as best he can. He feels bone tired, more tired and sleepy than he has felt in a while. "Let's get you to bed," Aether hums and starts steering him back to his chambers and his bed.
When they reached it and Aether was preparing to tuck him in and leave, Dew grabbed a hold of him. He bit his lip and look down, not able to look Aether in the eye. "Could you... stay," he asked quietly, another blush creeping down his neck, another little bubble of panic in his chest. But it was quickly soothed as Aether nodded and lifted the covers like it was no big deal. They crawled into bed together and Aether pulled him close, holding him securely.
Aether's purr was loud, but oh so pleasant and Dew couldn’t help but match it with his own. Together they slept better than either had ever slept here before, curled up tight against each other.
They didn’t really speak of it after that, but their dynamic did change. Many of the other ghouls noticed clearly. Aether would still ask to kiss it better each time any of them got hurt or upset, but he would ask Dew, just a little more often, for just a little less severe things. A shoulder bumped into a door, "should I kiss it better?" Bumped his shin against his guitar stand, "should I kiss it better?" Any of the other ghouls were getting on his nerves, "should I kiss it better?"
His hand was the most common offender. Fingers caught between strings, going too hard on his guitar, wrist hurt because of repetitive movement. He was a guitarist, after all, it was all hurts he was used to. But Aether was too, and he couldn't hide his discomfort about it to someone who knew what to look for.
The question got posed so often and so naturally that a look became enough. It was so part of their routine that it bled onto the stage. Dew felt like he should be embarrassed like Aether was treating him like a kid. But he knew Aether was just helping, was just being Aether. And to be honest, he had started to give no shit, as the feeling of warmth hadn’t left him since that night spent together, and he was damned if he would ever push it away now.