Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Nothing I’m seeing makes me want to look away,” 

Rook smiles from across the small makeshift room Lucanis has found himself housed up in.

His silver eyes are so soft in a way that should be unexpected from another Crow, but they’re the eyes that have met Lucanis’ own at each glance shared between them. Eyes that treat him like he's something worth looking at besides the killer he’s always been, like there's a man beneath the title of The Demon of Vyrantium . They’re eyes that make him melt, pour away any ache in his shoulders, eyes that pull him back from the swirling of his double booked mind.

“How do you always do that?” He has to ask as it happens again even as he glances away, the weight of eyes still sweet enough to bring a similar smile to his own lips when he finally meets them again.

“Do what?” He pushes, and if Lucanis hadn’t trained himself to the shifting of his tones he wouldn’t have noticed the slight panic building up in his throat.

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom,” Lucanis continues quickly once he hears it, hands dropping limply at his sides. His own worries flooding in even as Rook stands there listening, “You deserve better than to deal with my messes.”

It hurts to say, a frown reappearing on his lips as the third uncommonly quiet companion pipes back up.

“So many want to fix us.” Spite growls, “Now you don’t listen to rook. Let. Me. Out. ”

“You’re more than what you’re going through,” Rook replies as Spite talks, stress spilling away from his voice before a small laugh bubbles up, “And you wear it well.”

“Oh.” “Oh.” Both he and Spite think at once, but Lucanis doesn’t let him overtake his mind before he moves forward, meeting Rook at the wall.

“This isn’t a good idea,” He says aloud once he meets the elf, giving him another chance to rethink what he’s heading towards as Lucanis raises a hand up to rest against the wall beside him like he’s seen Illario do plenty of times before.

“Sometimes a bad idea is better.” Rook grins, and it's there Lucanis finds all his crow instincts hidden within.

Rooks own danger trapped tightly behind his teeth in a horrible invitation Lucanis knows he probably shouldn’t take, but the previous sweetness of care only warms him more to the bite waiting beneath all of Rook’s bark.

Lucanis tries not to panic the way Rook tilts to match his leaning nature, the elves back now flush to the stone, shoulder almost brushing where his thumb rests beside a column.

“You like to walk close to the edge,” Lucanis explains, letting himself go slightly to smile again as Rook raises a hand to tap lightly at his chest, unable to help the way his eyes keep returning to the grinning mouth the closer they get to each other.

“So do you.” Rook mumbles, pulling himself even closer as he speaks.

Lucanis whispers back as another inch closes, “At least I know I’m doing it.”

It takes too long for the pair to reach a point where Lucanis is close enough to smell the fresh tea leaves still clinging to the inside of Rook’s mouth. Something light and far more intriguing than any other tea Lucanis has been around before, laced with sugar to oppose the bitterness stained to his own throat, yet he’s pulled away from the chance to taste it as Spite speaks from beside Rook.

“I want to touch.” He sniffs their companions shoulder as he speaks, and it pulls Lucanis away from the kiss.

His head turns to the side to not watch as Spite so casually leans into Rook. A groan caught in his throat as he frowns.

“I… Need to clear my head. Excuse me.” Lucanis explains instead, fighting the glare he wishes to send to the demon who has begun to slide into the space between them.

He pulls away quick enough to not notice the sad understanding smile following him out of the room, a small mumble of it being okay reaching his ears as he opens the door without looking back.

“You don’t like sharing?” Spite asks as he follows him out. If Lucanis could stab him he might have.

“You need to learn to shut up.” He explains, fully showing the anger on his face once they’re free from the cupboard.

He rushes past Bellara who has only just entered the kitchen, ignoring her smile and wave as he climbs his way to the small side balcony of the separated building.

As soon as the cold air hits his face he lets himself sigh out again, leaning against the exterior wall to calm himself down. It’s hard to get the picture of Rook beside him out of his head as he shuts his eyes.

“Go back.” Spite pushes, “I want more. You want more. Can feel it.”

“ You ruined the moment!” Lucanis clarifies, eyes flickering open to stare at the demon pouting beside him.

“I was just talking!” He fights back, rolling his eyes at Lucanis’ stare.

“If you didn’t talk we would both have had what we want,” Lucanis tries to explain, leaning more weight against the wall.

He tries not to wonder if Rook would let Lucanis kiss him again if they had that first touch. Tries not to picture the taste of tea mixing with his coffee in a way he never thought he’d like, but of course he would enjoy it when it relates back to Rook. He enjoyed everything about Rook, his smile, his optimistic attitude, the weight of his hand on his shoulder when he would help push their group through crowds, his shining eyes, and his airy laugh.

Lucanis even enjoys the way Rook takes on the weight of everyone else, even when he wished to show him he didn’t need to. The comfort of knowing he cared so much made Lucanis feel like he was flying even without Spites wings.

“Go back.” Spite tries to push again, it's a bit shocking Lucanis hasn’t been hit for disagreeing with him yet.

It was weird to think about how all of Spite’s comments actually mean something. How he too has seemingly grown to appreciate every little thing about the crow who rescued them from their prison. How he too wants nothing more than to have kissed Rook right when they had the chance.

Lucanis sometimes forgets that out of their crowded mind, it was Spite who fell first for the elf, constantly piercing his ears with shouts of Rooks name every time he had entered the room. Begging to speak, to be heard by the first person to treat them softly. Rook is just so good , it's hard to picture the annoying demon latching onto him like Lucanis himself has begun to.

Maybe that’s why he had to run, shying away from the very touch he had started to dream about. Spite is too much to handle on his own, and Rook has already given so much, what if they both push too hard and both lose out on the caring hero.

Spite shouldn’t ruin his chances at love, Lucanis will overcome him, but what if somehow Lucanis ruins his in retaliation? Why does he care if he does?

“Wants us both.” Spite continues, “Never shies from staring.”

“He doesn’t hear your endless chatter.” Lucanis spits out, “I’m surprised Emmrich survives on missions.”

“I will listen,” Spite begins, “For Rook, I will listen.”

“I think it’s too late for that.” Lucanis mutters, stretching as he puts his weight back onto his own too feet compared to leaning against the stone.

He ignores Spites insistent groaning as he turns to make his way back into the kitchen, stationing himself over a mug to begin preparing a cup of coffee for himself. Spite doesn’t bring up how Lucanis simultaneously begins making a small pot of tea for Rook as he speaks, Lucanis doesn’t explain himself like he has before. Nor does he point out Spite pushing him to add a bit more sugar into the cup like they both know Rook likes.

They both try not to frown upon returning to the kitchen later to see the tea has grown cold, the whole pot untouched. Neither of them say if they caught the others' disappointment as Lucanis washes it away.