And then he could see no more
Original



Warning: Some sexually suggestive themes and swearing

“I’ve spent a years quietly dying, pretend that everything is all right, that it’ll all get better, that I should just smile. Just pretend everything will be all right. It’s been such a long time… A lifetime that has been wrought with tragedies, stained with sorrow, and laughed through with ignorance…”

“Yami…” Ryshar hesitated. He shook his head and looked away. “You’re being—“

“—an idiot?” Yami cut the other off, turning to look at him. Even with his short stature, his soft, feminine and childish features, there was still a sense of unimaginable, torturous sorrow there. “That’s all you ever say, Ryshar. I’m an idiot. A stupid, stupid idiot.”

Ryshar flinched noticeably, perhaps guilty, for it seemed no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t quite meet that carmine glower evenly. This seemed to irritate the ex-Prince all the more. “Look at me.” Yami snarled.

Ryshar took in a long, measured breath and let it out slowly, turning his head towards the other, but not quite meeting the others eyes. “I’m not that guy. I’m not that ‘friend’. I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t have anything to say.” He stated flatly.

“…Of course not.” Yami agreed, sitting down heavily on the park bench beside his companion, slumping forward. “And for awhile there, I actually thought you cared… But you’re nothing more than some selfish little child who cares about nothing but their own needs.”

Ryshar shrugged, crossing his ankles and looking away uneasily. He watched a family of three walking merrily through the park. They were laughing, of course. The little girl’s parents stared down at her with such unprecedented pride that it made Ryshar scowl with annoyance. The chirping, stupid, annoying little happy squeaks of spring all about where irritating to the white-haired man—he hated this joyous atmosphere. All this happiness, this bubbly, glow of emotions annoyed him.

Due to his silent brooding, it took him awhile to realize that his companion beside him wasn’t exactly silent himself. He could hear soft, shuddering sobs, and he knew that Yami was trying his damnedest to stop crying. It still, however, took the assassin by surprise.

“Are you…?”

“Yes…” Yami muttered. His head hung between his upraised shoulders and his face rested in his trembling hands. “Yes, yes I am… I’m sorry. Just… give me a moment.”

Ryshar pursed his lips, staring at the young man beside him. The ex-Prince was dressed in some elaborate, beautiful black attire that always seemed to draw away from his childish features and instead emphasize his unique curves and appeasing bodily perfection. His long black hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, but the hair still seemed to shower his backside with long black tendrils anyways. Ryshar had a strange urge to stroke it.

Instead he looked away, doing his best to try and ignore his friend’s mental-break down. He wasn’t some cold-hearted bastard. No, he liked to put up that front. He enjoyed being feared. But, he also hated being unloved. Between Mathais and Yami, Ryshar had found some love. Some acceptance…

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Yami.” The white-haired man said finally, unable to ignore the other any longer. He outstretched the arm closest towards his friend as if to pat his back reassuringly, but hesitated and instead draped it across the back of the bench. “I know some things about you, at least, about your exile and your enslavement. Little stuff like that. Though you’ve never really told me why for anything.”

“…Yes.” Yami made one last effort to brush the tears from his eyes, but it did little to improve his overall appearance. The whites of his eyes were spider-webbed with red vessels that seemed to come right out of his crimson orbs. He had done everything he could to stop the tears, but seemed to only make everything worse. The ex-Prince slowly straightened, staring off far away, past the fountain, past the laughing bystanders, past the trees, and far beyond anything that was tangible. “My father hated me, you know.”

“Oh?” Ryshar asked, quirking an eyebrow. He always knew Yami didn’t have a great relationship with his father—it was obvious in the way he always gushed about his mother. He loved her deeply, and it was obvious how much it hurt to not be by her side. Ryshar had never heard Yami talk about the King.

“It was these eyes… this… red.” Yami reached up, absently, to touch just below his eye, and his fingers shook there, inching forward to touch his eyelashes. The man flinched and his fingers curled into his fists. It seemed to take much effort for him to lower his hand back to his side. “…He couldn’t cope with this demon blood that now taints his family.”

“Demons are fictional. You know that just as much as I do. Red eyes just means they’re elves who don’t need some fancy book to annihilate a…” Ryshar trailed off, catching Yami’s hurt gaze. “…Whatever it is, it’s just stupid. Demon’s, angels; it’s all a crock of shit. Besides,” He leaned forward, grinning from ear to ear, revealing his perfectly formed teeth, his charming looks and his insatiable sexual desire. “They say I’m an angel, but I’m not exactly what you’d think an angel is, now am I? My gold eyes and white hair don’t make me, me. What I do makes me, me.”

Yami gave the other an uneasy stare before turning his head away. “If the King was only taught that as well. I may have not been exiled.”

“Why were you exiled anyways? It never really addresses that in the edict.”

Yami’s gaze once again dropped down to his fidgeting hands. He wondered briefly how long it would be for Mathais to return from the errands in town. He was, after all, the only ‘normal’ looking one of the bunch. No red eyes—no gold ones. Mathais was nothing unusual; just a perfectly normal Elf. “…He found out I was in love.” Yami admitted.

Ryshar began to grin, but he stopped himself upon noticing the torment upon his friends face. He decided not to say anything, and instead waited.

“With his most prized possession… “ Yami continued, “The crown prince… My own brother, Ankei.”

Ryshar’s mouth went slack for a moment, until he blinked, shook his head and leaned over towards the ex-Prince, “Wait, what? Prince Ankei? You had the hots for your brother?”

“I-I-I… It wasn’t like that!” Yami blathered unintelligently. “…It just happened, all right? He was one of the only people I ever saw besides my mother… He was just… always so nice to me… “ He shook his head, sighing and reached out as if to rub his eyes, but instead took fist-full’s of his hair with both hands, shuddering. “I knew it was wrong… I tried to pray it out of me. I tried everything. When I thought it was working, I realized it wasn’t, the second he’d reach out and touch me, and smile… It was intoxicating… I just had all these urges I knew I shouldn’t have… especially not for a man… and especially not my very own brother.”

“Well it’s certainly not… the norm.” Ryshar said, shrugging. “What did Prince Ankei think about this?”

Yami laughed, and his fingers slowly uncurled from his bangs. They, however, stayed slightly crimped and tangled. “You know what he did when I told him? He slapped me.”

“....” Ryshar shrugged slightly, as if accepting this and stared at his own bouncing feet. He didn’t know why, but he was starting to grow more and more tensed as the story of his friends past continued.

“…and then he said, ‘No fucking shit, idiot.’ And then he kissed me.”

Ryshar’s head jerked about so he could stare, wide-eyed at the exiled Prince of Aurora. “Huh?”

“Apparently he had been dropping signs and signals… and…” Yami shook his head, “I know now that he did it just to make me happy, because he knew I was going to breakdown at any time. He didn’t feel the same way for me… he might have at first, but I think he grew out of it. It was years later before Fa…” he sighed, “the King realized what was happening. I was exiled after that, for reasons undisclosed.

After that, I obviously had no idea what to expect. I hadn’t ever been anywhere outside of the castle without an escort. I didn’t know what a thief was. What poverty was. Who was bad, who was good. And that’s when I ended up a slave.” He shrugged, shaking his head slightly. “Red… it was always red. A fascination for red. These eyes… this color. Red. Red, red, red. That’s all they would ever talk about. ‘His eyes are red, that makes him dangerous’. It makes him exotic… It makes him half the person everyone else is…”

“…” Ryshar frowned, chewing on his lower lip as he stared absently somewhere in the park. He knew what it was like. He had been there. He hadn’t really ever dwelled much in the past, because he didn’t care for it. Yami, however, it seemed couldn’t quite let it go…

There was a soft whimper, followed by a sound that seemed to be something between a laugh and a sob. A little confused by this Ryshar looked back at his friend and jolted up.

Blood oozed from between the demons fingers, which were pressed up to his face, holding back his sobs.

“H-Hey, what the hell? What happened.” Ryshar swiftly stepped off the bench and in front of his friend. He tried to take the others arms and pull them from his face to find out what in the world was happening. To his surprise, Yami fought him, hard. There was a brief struggle as the white-haired man fought for control over the others limbs until finally he jerked the mans hands away from his face.

Blood ran from, what Ryshar now realized, Yami’s badly clawed and scarred eyes. The left eye was nearly dislodged completely, dangling only from a thin artery. Blood pulsated from behind the socket, running down the ex-Prince’s pale white cheeks. His right eye was gashed badly, bad enough to be permanently damaged for sure.

Ryshar, however, could only stare as his friend simply laughed. It wasn’t really even maniacal, or pained at all. It just seemed he was laughing quite hard at some good joke. It was positively terrifying.

“Yami, listen to me. You need to sit still.”

“No, no… No, I’m fine, Ryshar... I’m fine…”

Somewhere behind himself, Ryshar could hear a woman scream, but he didn’t care. He gently pushed the other back onto the bench, and did his best to hold up the hanging eye without further injuring it. Why? Hell if he knew. It was strange how Yami was still trying to blink, but without an eye to collapse around, the eyelid simply shuddered and quivered.

“…Yami.. I can’t believe you…”

“Now there’s no red…” Came the response, soft, matter-of-factly. “Except for blood… but that can be washed away.”

Ryshar, scowling, turned to scream out towards the crowd of gathering, hysterical people. “Is there a doctor here!?”

“I’m a doctor.” Some man said, pushing himself forward.

That was the last thing Yami remembered of that day.

The rest was just bits and pieces of what he would soon realize was a span of a month, a little more even.

”There’s no guarantee…” It was a voice he wasn’t familiar with. Yami realized he was trying to open his eyes, but for the life of him he didn’t know why he couldn’t. “And it’s expensive…”

“We’ll pay. Whatever you want, we’ll pay it.” That was Mathais… he could recognize that distinct accent anywhere.

“It’s a prototype, you see…” That unfamiliar voice again, it sounded hesitant, but hesitant with worry, “I only have a few of them… it’ll be very expensive.”

“I told you, money isn’t an issue.” This voice was hard, cold. It was definitely Ryshar.

Sounds faded away as the ex-Prince slowly slipped back into unconsciousness again. In his dreams he was chasing something, or being chased? He wasn’t quite sure. He knew that just when he found it—or escaped it, it started all over again. It was endless. It was tiresome…

“Mr. Stone, I need you to squeeze my fingers…”

/Shut up, shut up…/ All he wanted to do was sleep…

“Mr. Stone, you need to squeeze my fingers.”

Squeeze some ones fingers? Whose fingers? What was happening?

“Doctor, what’s wrong with him?” Mathais whispered softly, reaching out to gently stroke Yami’s hair back away from his face.

“He was heavily sedated for surgery. It’s slowly wearing off, but he should be coming too pretty quickly here. Mr. Stone, can you hear my voice?”

“Nneah…” It wasn’t pretty sounding, but at least it was some verbal response. It was something, and that was good.

“Excellent. Can you feel my fingers here in your hand? I want you to squeeze those fingers.”

Annoyed that this man wouldn’t stop talking about his damned fingers, Yami focused all his strength into closing his own digits about that mans hand. The Doctor chuckled softly, and Yami gnashed his teeth in annoyance.

“He’s a fighter, isn’t he?” The man said, and slowly he uncurled Yami’s fingers from his own. “Very good, thank you. Now, I want to make sure you still have feeling in your face…”

Growing all the more irritated by this mans know-it-all tone Yami tried to open his eyes again, but something was pressing down on them. Grumbling he reached up towards his face but his arms were quickly caught before they even came close to pulling the bothersome thing from his eyes.

“Easy, now, easy. You can’t take that off just yet Mr. Stone.”

/Stone? What the hell…/ That was Mathais’ last name. It was the first time Yami realized the man had referred to him as ‘Mr. Stone.’

“Get it off.” Yami grumbled attempting to sit up. He felt something dislodge from his arm and it wasn’t at all pleasant. In fact, it rather stung.

“Help me keep him down.” The Doctor said calmly, and more hands came about to push the ex-Prince back onto the bed. “Now, Mr. Stone. I need you to stay calm for a minute. Sven, put that IV back in, please.”

Yami felt something slide back up into his arm and he squirmed, flinching away.

“You hurt yourself pretty badly, Mr. Stone.” The doctor was saying, “We did everything we could to save your eyesight… we’ll find out how well we did in the next few minutes, all right? I need you to bare with me, though. I have some bandages and other things I have to remove.”

It was then that the ex-Prince remembered what he had done. He went limp, falling back into the pillow, lips slightly parted. In a moment of sheer utmost insanity, he recalled pushing his nails right into his own eyes, digging, tearing and pulling. He couldn’t remember any pain. He just remembered doing it.

“I’m going to remove the bandages now, all right? But you still can’t move much. Your body has been through quite a lot.”

The man could feel the pressure around his eyes slowly decreasing. When at last they were finally gone he couldn’t quite bring himself to open his eyes. What would he see? Would he see at all?

Ryshar and Mathais stood by quietly. Currently, with all the bruising and swelling, Yami looked little like the pretty, petite man they had spent the last couple years with. They had been told he would look nearly the same as he did before, perhaps a little scarring, but nothing very noticeable. It still, however, did not deter the hurt they felt upon staring at the black-and-blue bruises across the others face.

Mathais did his best to keep his slow intake of breath quiet and he reached an arm around Ryshars waist and leaned against him, resting his head on the others shoulder. Surprisingly the usually stoic man returned the embrace and even squeezed the others arm reassuringly.

“Mr. Stone, will you open your eyes for me?”

Yami did. He felt his eyes opening, and there was a bright fuzzy whiteness. He blinked, several times. The fuzziness remained, but more color seemed to bleed back into his sight. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, letting out a slow, shaky breath. He opened them again.

“Can you see?”

Yami’s eyes slowly shifted to a blur standing over his side. He could make out a white lab coat, brown hair, some facial hair and maybe even some glasses. Yami didn’t realize he was squinting until the doctor reached out and gently took his face between his hands and began to turn his head to and fro, as if searching for something.

“Hm… I didn’t know your eyes were really red.”

Some awful, horrible feeling crept up Yami’s stomach and slowly began to tighten around his chest as it made its way up. It was like all the others…

You insignificant… stupid red-eyed person… You nasty, horrible disease you…

“You might not be able to tell right now, but my eyes are red too. It’s quite all right, Mr. Stone. I treat who needs to be treated, regardless of race. I am a doctor. Now…” Yami felt his face being turned another direction, “It seems there’s little scarring. The healers did the best they could closing your wounds from the surgery, but the bruises will take a little time more. You don’t seem to be able to see very well as of right now, but that’s all right. Your eyes will grow a little stronger over the next couple of days. I’ll see you again then and then we can decide what we need to do to correct your vision any more if we must… Now, You’re his brother, right?” The doctor asked, turning to Mathais.

“Um, yes. I am.” Mathais said, nervously pushing away from Ryshar and smiling charmingly.

“Good. I’m going to be giving you some medicine you’ll have to prepare for him. It’s a tea, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Sven, can you please go get me some Rosemary, Willow Bark and Ginger please?” The assistant that Yami couldn’t quite make out quickly departed from the room, “You’ll have him drink each one at least once a day for the next five days. They’re more so for reducing swelling and pain, so I wouldn’t skimp out on them. I do hope you like tea, you’ll be drinking quite a lot of it.” Yami believed the man was grinning at him, but he really couldn’t tell. He decided he didn’t care. With that the ex-Prince slowly let his mind wander.

It wasn’t for another good twenty minutes before he felt someone touching his arm. 

“This might sting a little, okay?” Yami could make out blond hair, and automatically assumed it was the assistant. The needle, he could feel, slipped out from under his skin, yet he didn’t flinch. The blond hair, Yami couldn’t help but notice, reminded him very much of his brothers honey-blond hair. Yami sighed softly, staring blankly at Sven pressed a cotton swab to his arm. Sven gently raised his patients’ arm up slightly. “I need you to keep your arm up like this for a few minutes so your blood will clot, all right? It shouldn’t take too long.” Yami felt his other hand being pulled over to prop his arm up. He felt stupid, but he complied without a word of complaint.

“You’ve really done it this time, dolt.” Ryshar muttered softly. Yami turned his head slightly, and could make out the blob of white that was his friend. “You’re such an—
“
“—idiot?” Yami retorted drily, “Yes, I know. Thank you.”

Ryshar frowned at him before turning away with an annoyed grumble. Yami sighed as well, deciding he didn’t care.

“Excuse me, thank you. Let me see your arm here.” It was Sven again. He tightly wrapped something around Yami’s arm. “This is just here to put pressure, nothing to worry about. Now come here, we’ll get you dressed. Now take my hands…” Yami felt the others surprisingly soft and gentle hands taking his own and he slowly worked his legs over the side of the bed. “There you go, that’s it!”

His voice, however nice, was increasingly irritating. It seemed Sven was a motivator… an annoying one at that.

Yami tried to ignore how uncomfortable it was having a stranger dress him, but after a while he just simply closed his eyes and allowed the other to pull garments onto him, while talking to him as though he were a child learning how to walk for the very first time.

“There you go, as cute as a button!” Sven finished, lovingly nudging the other with his closed fist. “Now, you, sir. Mathais was it? He’ll need help getting around. His vision should be improving, but he’ll probably need corrective lenses anyways. We just want to make sure his eyes get a chance to recover first. Next time I see you will be the nineteenth of Filras.”

Yami wanted to tell Sven his voice was by far one of the most annoying he had ever heard, but he only sighed, slouching forward where he stood. It wasn’t very long before he felt Mathais’ arm slipping under and then over his, taking his hand.

“Come on, Yami. We have an inn we’re staying in nearby. We don’t have to walk very far.”

Yami allowed himself to be lead away. He could tell when he left the building—it was far brighter outside. The air wasn’t so still, and there were actually sounds other than the clinking and bubbling of flasks or the quiet chatter of some self-absorbed cluster of doctors. It was rather refreshing, though short, of a walk outside.

“There’s stairs here, Yami. I tried to get us on the first floor, but they didn’t have any. I’m sorry about that.” Mathais said apologetically.

“It’s fine.” Yami muttered shaking his head. “I can manage.”

“Come here, stupid. I’ll just carry you.” Before Yami could ever protest he felt Ryshar’s arms around him and he was jolted up, not very comfortably as Ryshar wrapped his arms around his middle and literally just picked him up a few inches and marched him up the stairs.

“Ah, fuck, Ryshar. Stop it that hurts.” Yami complained, feeling the others ring’s and bracelets digging into his stomach.

“Fuck off, you’re fine.” The other grumbled. When they reached the top, Ryshar didn’t even bother putting him down but instead carried down the hallway to their door before stopping, still holding the struggling demon high enough that his feet couldn’t quite touch the ground.

“…Ryshar you should really be careful with him.” Mathais said worriedly, shoving the key into the door and opening it. Ryshar snorted at him and stormed inside the room before throwing his charge not very gently onto one of the beds.

Yami hissed in pain, rolling onto his back and blinking back tears of agony. He had quite literally face planted in a way that reminded him all too much of what he had done to himself. Trembling, he reached up to lay his hand over his eyes, letting out a shaking breath.

“Look what you did, Ryshar. You hurt him. I swear… I’m going to…” Mathais stomped angrily on Ryshar’s foot, doing well to dig in the heel of his boot. Ryshar yelped in pain, shoving the red-head away before grumbling and limping off to brood in a corner, far away from his companions. “Yami… Are you all right?” Mathais gently reached out to take the others hand and pulled it away from his face. Yami blinked up at him, almost unseeingly. “…You really can’t see me, can you?”

“…I see your red hair…” Yami muttered, smiling slightly. He reached out, clumsily until his fingers found the red locks that he could just barely tell was actually hair. He ran his fingers over its softness until he sighed faintly, his hand falling away.

“You’ll be all right.” Mathais said softly, though there was a hint of sadness in his usually jovial tone. The red head leaned down and hugged the other as best he could without smothering Yami’s bruised face. “Do you want some tea?”

“…No, I’m kind of tired.”

“All right, I’ll let you sleep then.” Mathais sat up again, before taking the black-haired mans feet and starting to untie his laced up boots. “I’m sorry that Ryshar is being an ass. He’s just worried.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, dolt.” Ryshar snapped from across the room.

Mathais gently pulled off Yami’s shoes before setting them on the floor. He helped the other adjust until he could get under the covers and then pulled them over the smaller man. “Just take it easy. It’ll be awhile before you… can see better.”

“Mmhm…” Yami nodded in non-reply, before rolling onto his side with his back to his friend.

Mathais nodded quietly to himself, before standing up and walking across the room to sit at the small round table. It was nearby Ryshar, and as much as Mathais was disgusted with the white-haired man, he knew that Ryshar would come through for Yami sometime. Mathais could never get use to Ryshar’s round-about ways of affection. 

They sat in silence for a long time, Mathais sitting quietly with his hands on top of the table, clasped together, his blue gaze fixed on some crack in the wall. Ryshar was sitting in the window ceil, one leg dangling loosely, the other brought up against his chest with his arms resting on it.

Finally, Ryshar sighed. Mathais was always talking, and when he was silent… it was incredibly off-putting. “I’ll apologize later, okay?” He grumbled miserably.

“You should have been more careful with him.” Mathais replied back. His tone was motherly, and it made Ryshar roll his eyes.

“Okay. I get it. I’m an ass.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Shut up, you’re not allowed to say it. Only I can.”

Mathais rolled his eyes, lifting his hand up and turning his face away from Ryshar, dropping his chin into the hand before sighing loudly. “You two fight like little kids. Why can’t you just tell him you were scared and hurt that he did that to himself?”

“…Who says I was scared? Or hurt. Don’t put words into my mouth.” Ryshar muttered.

Mathais chose to ignore the other. He loved Ryshar, dearly, but he wasn’t so in love with his elusive attitude… He couldn’t be perfect.

~*~

His sight came back slowly, but not nearly to what it had been before. He could make out objects much better. It was a relief when he could see Ryshar’s scowling face across the room, or Mathais’ constant winks of encouragement. It felt good to be able to see again, however limited it was. His problem, however, was seeing things close. It was frustrating. He had nothing to do—he couldn’t read as he so enjoyed. Whenever he brought the page comfortably close, the words seemed to collapse onto themselves and everything became a fuzzy mess.

That was why the demon had a book propped open on the dresser as he sat four feet away on the bed, squinting at the text.

“…What the hell are you doing?” Ryshar asked as he walked in, a sack of groceries tucked under one arm. It was four days later, and being bored and having nothing to do Yami and Mathais had spent much of their time making food and eating it. Yami was sure he was going to gain quite a lot within the next six days before returning to the doctor. Ryshar wasn’t happy about having to retrieve more food after only four days—he complained that it should have lasted at least until the fifteenth. However, that hadn’t been the case.

“…I’m reading.” Yami grumbled back, turning to raise an eyebrow at the white-haired man.

“You look like a fucking idiot.” Ryshar said, rolling his eyes and walking to the table where he dropped the bag onto uncaringly. He turned about, leaning on the back of one of the chairs, and tilted his head. “Why don’t you just… like, hold it like a normal person?”

“Because I can’t read it when it’s that close.” Yami replied evenly, trying to keep a conversational tone without becoming condescending.

“…You look stupid.”

“I have nothing else to do.”

“…I’m here.”

Yami turned to look at the white-haired man and was a little surprised to see that he was blushing, very faintly. Ryshar cleared his throat and looked away. “I haven’t… you know, apologized yet.”

“…” Yami turned fully to face the other. He wanted to mock him, he really did, but he knew Ryshar was likely to come over and kick him right in the face if he did that. Even though much of the bruising was gone, his face was still tender and he didn’t think he would very much enjoy and steel-toed boot to the jaw.

“I…shouldn’t have thrown your stupid ass around. I forget how much of a pansy you are.”

Yami nodded slowly, realizing this was the best of an apology Ryshar could muster. Yami shrugged and turned back to his ‘reading’.

“…What— that’s it?” Ryshar snapped, leaning forward and narrowing his golden piercing eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Yami replied flatly, disinterested.

“I don’t know. Like, an ‘oh it’s okay, you’re forgiven.’”

“You and I both know you could care less if I forgive you or not.” Yami replied, itching the back of his head absently.

“…Don’t you at least appreciate the effort it took me to say that?”

“Mildly.”

“Well… fuck you.”

Yami smirked slightly and didn’t reply. He did, however, hear the other approaching him. Yami didn’t bother to look up at him, even when Ryshar stopped directly beside him. He could hear Ryshar’s slow, uneven breaths. He was trying to calm himself, but he seemed to be failing miserably.

“Mathais made me apologize. I didn’t want to, you know.”

“I figured as much.” Yami replied. He stood up, to turn the page on his book but as he did, Ryshar gave him a fierce shove to the shoulder and the demon toppled over ungracefully onto the bed. “What the hell, Ryshar.” The little ex-Prince grumbled, sitting up and brushing his hair out of his face. “Why do you always have to be such an asshole?”

“Because!” Ryshar snarled reaching out to grab a fistful of the others shirt and jerking him up-right. “I don’t know what else to do. I’m… good at being an asshole. I like being an asshole. It’s what I do.”

It might have been comical under any other circumstances, but Yami could only stare uncomfortably at the other. He was honestly waiting for the white-haired man to start slapping him silly. It wouldn’t have surprised him. He and Ryshar had been in more than one fist-fight over the years. They were both stubborn—stubborn as hell in fact. Yet they still couldn’t quite live happily ever after without the other. It was a strange relationship.

“…If you’re going to hit me, get it over with.” Yami finally said. Due to the close proximity of the two, he couldn’t quite make out Ryshar’s features. He figured the other was scowling, as usual.

“I’m not going to hit you, stupid.” Ryshar said, resigned. He released the other and then sat on the bed beside him, crossing his fingers behind his head before falling back with a sigh. He stared up at the ceiling absently, trying to ignore how Yami was staring goggle-eyed at him. “When you tore out your eyes… you were laughing.”

Yami blinked slowly, frowning slightly. He swallowed and his head dipped slightly, allowing his hair to shift over his face. The ex-Prince decided not to say anything, because he couldn’t quite think of anything to say.

“Why were you laughing?” Ryshar asked, looking up at the other. There was actually a sense of sorrow—of confusion, vulnerable emotions that Ryshar almost always refused to show.

“…I don’t know.” Yami admitted. “…I guess it was because it just felt right… Like I should have done it a long time ago… It was my solution for a problem that should never have received an answer.”

“Hey…stupid.” Ryshar reached up gently, and his gloveless fingers gently trailed up the side of the others face. Yami felt of tingle of something he didn’t want to admit stirring through his body. The crimson-eyed man blinked slowly, trying to suppress the feelings and looked down at the pretty-white haired man lying beside him. “I think your eyes are pretty cute. I like them. They remind me of roses… or Lacewings Butterflies… or some shit like that.”

Yami couldn’t help but smile, “Are you trying to be romantic?”

“…is it working?” Ryshar asked, grinning back.

“Maybe a little…”

Ryshar sat up slowly, he was taller, but still slightly slouched over he was still lower than the other. Smirking slightly, he let the hand resting on the others cheek slowly work itself behind the ex-Princes head and pulled him closer. Yami felt his eyes trying to adjust, but try as hard as they could they couldn’t quite focus on the other mans soft features.

Ryshar sighed softly, a little annoyed before pulling the ex-Prince down into a fierce and rather conquering kiss. He didn’t want to be the one to give in, but he also didn’t want to look like a pansy. Ryshar would never be dominated by anyone; especially not this one. He let his other hand find its way around Yami’s slender waist and pulled him on top of him.

Yami, however, broke the kiss after several long moments of enjoying it. “You really are an asshole, Ryshar.” He said softly. He pulled the others hand from out of his shirt and sat up.

“What are you doing?” Ryshar asked, looking cross. He was pretty, charming when he needed to be; in fact he prided himself on being able to woe anyone into his bed. Yami should be no exception.

“I know how you apologize, Ryshar. You do a lot of ‘apologizing’ with Mathais.”

Ryshar pursed his lips, and then shrugged. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t want that from you.”

Ryshar allowed one of his alluring smiles to touch his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly in a way that was a little more than suggestive, “Are you sure about that?”

No, he wasn’t sure. Yami reached up to rub his eyes and said nothing. He knew whatever he said would be a lie or an invitation. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to expose either. Ryshar, however worked his fingers into the ex-Princes hair as he sat up, leaning close.

Their lips nearly touched, and they did when Ryshar quietly spoke, “You know you want me.”

“…my head hurts.”

“Huh?” Ryshar made a face. That wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear.

“My head, Ryshar. My fucking head hurts.” Yami snapped, reaching up to rub his temple. All this closeness was causing everything to be blurry, and that was giving him a headache. “Just…nngh…” He slumped forward into the others arms and rubbed his face angrily with both hands. “I’m sorry. I just have a headache from being so close to you.”

“…Well, thanks.” Ryshar huffed, glowering.

“I didn’t mean it like that, stupid. I—“

“Hello, my loves!” Mathais gushed, throwing open the door. He blinked at the two, huddled together on the bed and then tilted his head, quietly closing the door. “Are we having a cuddle party? If we are, I wanna be a part of it!”

Then promptly, the pretty red-head skipped across the room and bounced right onto the bed where he threw his arms around his two companions, knocking them both flat onto their backs and nuzzled into them.

“…I was about to fuck him you know.” Ryshar snapped, sighing as Mathais snuggled into his shoulder.

“Oh, really?” The red-head looked slyly to Yami who looked away, disinterested. “Well… I can always come back… or we can always add one more.” Giggling, Mathais kissed Ryshar’s exposed shoulder and grinned.

“…You see why my ‘apologizes’ are what they are, Yami? It’s his fault. He makes me do it.” Ryshar said defensively.

“Mmhmm, right. Well, I’d believe you if Mathais was always drunk.” Yami replied sighing and then rolled onto his side so he could cuddle into the Elf. “Mathais, why have you been drinking? And for… goddesses- sake what?” He made a face upon smelling the alcoholic fumes wafting away from the giggling man.

“Shhh… It’s a secret. No one can know I’m drunk.” Mathais whispered gravely, looking from Ryshar to Yami with the utmost seriousness on his face.

…The night ended with a sleep over in Yami’s bed. Yami adjusted quietly in the middle of the night as Mathais rolled over to snuggle into Ryshar’s side. Yami couldn’t help but smile. He exchanged a glance with the white-haired man who had spent the night pouting after being denied a new lover.

“I’ll get you another time, Yami Starboon.” The assassin whispered, smirking.

“Mmhm…shut up and go to sleep.” Yami replied seriously, though behind the seriousness, he was smiling.

~*~

“And how does that look?” Dr. Callen asked, slightly adjusting the way the glasses sat on his patients nose.

“…Better.” Yami replied sounding surprised. He blinked, actually being able to see the doctor’s face for the first time. He was older, aging actually. He was obviously a human—and that was more than amazing.

“That’s right, Mr. Stone. A human-Elf hybrid. Now, read this for me.” He handed the ex-Prince a piece of paper. Yami read it with surprising ease. “Good. It appears your eyes have adjusted to seeing things afar, but they still have problems closer. I reckon your sight will change a few times more over the years, but that’s not something only I can figure out. Any eye doctor anywhere will be able to prescribe you new lenses.”

“…Thank you, Doctor.” Yami said softly, sincerely. He would have never imagined… a human? Yami honestly didn’t think they were smart enough, or lived long enough to do anything significant. It was astounding. “…I really don’t know how else to thank you.”

“Well, since you were practically a guinea pig for this operation, I must say, I should be thanking you.” Dr. Callen stood, hands on hips as he stood back, grinning. He was obviously pretty proud of himself. “You will probably only need those glasses for reading. They’re small enough that you can wear them at all times, and just look over the lenses when you don’t need them… but, that’s really a personal choice.”

“I think they’re sexy.” Mathais chimed in, nodding. Dr. Callen gave Mathais a funny look as to which the red-head quickly followed, “The glasses. They look sexy. I wish I had a pair.”

“Nice save, idiot.” Ryshar grumbled quietly into the others ear.

“…I’m afraid you’ll never need glasses, being a full-blood Elf, Mr. Stone. So, I’m sorry to say that you will never get to wear any ‘sexy’ glasses any time soon.” Dr. Callen chuckled heartily—and Yami found the old man all the more tolerable. “Ah. As for payment, I simply took what I needed to replenish the herbs I gave you for treatment. The surgery and everything else is on me. It was a learning experience for us all, am I right?” The doctor nodded in satisfaction to himself, reaching out one hand. “It was a pleasure giving you your sight back, Mr. Starboon.”

Yami blinked rapidly up at him, tensing.

“Oh, I mean, ‘Mr. Stone.’” The old man grinned, taking the little demons hand and shaking it firmly. Yami liked that; a firm handshake. Nothing gentle to try and not ‘hurt’ the delicate looking former Prince. “Sven, please show them out.”

The blond-assistant, who Yami now could see was no more than seventeen quickly jumped (seemingly out of no where) and blathering about how nice the weather was, lead them to the door.

Yami pushed up his glasses, feeling a little weird, but also realizing how right it felt wearing them… He briefly wondered why, but his thoughts were interrupted as Ryshar leaned over, his arms jerking him against his own body with a kiss that about stole his footing.

Ryshar pulled away, grinning down at the demon. “…Did I ever tell you glasses were a major turn on for me?”

“…Anything that moves is a major turn on for you.” Mathais muttered, rolling his eyes.

Ryshar smirked at the red-haired thief, “Well… yeah.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I think it’s about time we got out of this town. I’m sick of paying for that inn.”

Smirking slightly, Yami reached out with both hands—one trailing across Mathais’ stomach and the other across Ryshar’s chest as he walked between them, “I think we should make use of the inn one last time.”

“Right on!” Mathais agreed, smiling widely.

Ryshar chuckled softly, watching his two giggling companions make their way back towards the inn. Ryshar had never ‘apologized’ to two people at one time. He shrugged; there was a first for everything.

[Ramirez]



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