Chapter Text
Gavin is sitting on the couch.
He finds himself doing that a lot more in recent times. It’s become almost routine for him to lounge on the couch in the Freelancer’s small living room. He knocks at their door, the Freelancer answers with a small smile and invites him in, and he offers to help melt away the stress of the school day. It’s a lovely little routine they have, one he’s more than happy to continue with. He could only make one small complaint.
The routine is changing.
The Freelancer is pacing around the room.
Gavin finds that they’re doing that a little more than usual. He’s got the movements memorized by now. Five steps to the left, turn, five steps to the right, turn, six steps to the left, pause, six steps to the right, repeat. Occasionally they will pause to run a hand through their hair or scratch at a spot on their skin. He thinks that this is at least somewhat better than when they sit and stare off. At least they’re responsive.
Something is off. Usually Gavin isn’t bothered by their pacing. It’s a small, harmless habit they had picked up. They pace when they’re bored, when they’re thinking, when they’re rambling, or even when they’re ranting about something that particularly pissed them off (that pacing usually comes with a lot more swearing and frantic hand movements). This time, though, the Freelancer has barely said a thing and seems more focused on the small flyaway strands of their DAMN sweatshirt.
Maybe if he were Caelum he’d be able to handle this better, but in his experience he finds it’s sometimes better to let the Freelancer talk about it when they approach him. Even if he can see some of the knots in his precious voyeur pulling tighter.
Maybe Caelum should be here.
Internally, he pulls at the small connection he has with the empathy daemon. A few moments later he feels a very enthusiastic tug back at him (it takes everything in him not to show a small smile). Opening the connection, he thinks, “ The Freelancer needs you, buddy. ” He receives what he can only guess is an ‘I’m on my way’ from the other.
“Freelancer?” He watches and waits for any kind of response but gets nothing.
“Hey, Deviant,” he calls in a soft voice, one he’s only ever used around Caelum and the Freelancer when they were panicking.
It seems to do the trick because the Freelancer’s eyes shift to meet his. He smiles softly and motions for them to come closer. An open invitation of sorts. They oblige and move closer to stand in front of him.
Now that they’re this close, Gavin can see more of his deviant’s face. Their eyebrow is furrowed and their jaw is clenched. There’s small dark circles under their eyes, and their eyes themselves are tinged slightly red. They look like a mess. The look on their face sends a wave of pain straight to his heart, a heart he only discovered he had when they became friends.
He reaches his hands out and wraps them loosely around their waist. There’s enough pressure to remind the Freelancer that he’s there but enough room for them to break away if they feel uncomfortable. After a moment of the Freelancer staring at him in silence, he pulls them down and they go sinking into his lap.
“Feel free to make yourself comfortable,” he remarks with a slightly cocky undertone. The Freelancer hums and lets a soft smile fall onto their lips as they adjust.
They end up sitting sideways, their legs dangled over his and their torso curled against him, their head hiding away in his neck. He sighs and wraps an arm around their back, the other one resting on their knee and squeezing slightly.
Usually, his deviant would be a blushing mess at the mere thought of sitting in his lap. There’d be heavy kissing, his hand running through their hair and pulling just enough to elicit a small whine. He’d grin into the kiss and flip them over. He thinks the Freelancer looks so pretty when they’re like that.
But now isn’t one of those times. Now, the Freelancer is nervous and tense, hiding their face away from him.
“Caelum is coming over,” he mumbles into their hair as he kisses the top of their head.
At the mention of the empathy daemon’s name, the deviant’s hand tightens into his shirt. “Is he okay?” They ask.
He pulls them slightly closer. “Of course he is.” There’s no response. “Hey, look at me,” he whispers.
The Freelancer unburies their head from his shoulder and looks up at him with glossy eyes. “He’s okay, I promise. We’re okay.”
Gavin wipes a stray tear from the human’s face with his thumb. He can see the faintest hints of tear tracks staining their face. He kisses their cheek, his one hand cradling the back of their neck, tracing a bruise he knows is there because he had the pleasure of putting it there , his other hand resting on top of their knee.
The Freelancer is avoiding his eyes, looking everywhere but his face. Their eyes dart to the front door. Gavin calls their name, causing them to look to him in a slight moment of panic and relief, something only they are capable of.
“Talk to me, what’s got you like this?”
They sigh and bury their head in his shoulder again. “It’s stupid,” they mumble.
Gavin flicks their side, a yelp coming from them. “Nothing you could ever do is stupid. Whatever is bothering you is valid, deviant.”
He waits a moment as the Freelancer fidgets in his lap. Finally they sigh and raise their head. They still don’t make eye contact, but it’s a small accomplishment for Gavin.
“Last night, I just...I had—“
They’re cut off by a series of quick knocks on the door.
“Hey! It’s me! Oh um, me being Caelum! It’s Caelum!” The empathy daemon’s words are muffled by the door but they can tell by his tone that he’s worried.
The Freelancer jumps off of Gavin’s lap and adjusts themselves. They open the door and are met by a smiling Caelum.
Caelum waves at them and walks into the living room, offering a smile towards Gavin. “Did I uh... interrupt anything?” He asks bashfully.
Gavin snorts as the Freelancer turns red. “No, Caelum, I did call you after all.”
“Oh, yeah,” Caelum remarks. He turns to the Freelancer and immediately frowns. Unlike Gavin, Caelum is built to see every knot the Freelancer has and know what’s wrong and how to fix it. He could probably see exactly what’s bothering them. “Do you want a hug?” Caelum asks.
As soon as the words leave the daemon’s mouth, the Freelancer is practically knocking him over with the force of the hug they gave him. “Hey, hey, I’m okay, see?” He mumbles as he grips his charge tighter.
It hurts to see them like this. The Freelancer has always been somewhat of a symbol of strength; a confused humanborn who discovered their abilities as a freelancer at such a young age. Someone who was willing to leave behind their life to start anew in a world that’s against them for simply being their self, and yet they persevere and give kindness without ever expecting something in return. That same person who could have been so angry at the world, who should be angry for everything it’s done to them, from the subtle rude comments about their abilities to attacks against them by horrible people, yet chooses to spread good in the world.
That same person is carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, and it’s finally broken them.
Caelum moves the two of them to the couch, their bodies still intertwined as they recline back. Caelum rubs soothing circles into the Freelancer’s back as the latter takes shaky breaths.
“I’ll be right back you two,” Gavin says as he gets up. Caelum nods and gives him a thumbs up, signaling that he has everything covered on the comfort front.
Gavin walks to the kitchen and opens the fridge. He grabs a large infuser water bottle, looking at the small pieces of fruit floating around inside. The Freelancer must have put it in there once they had gotten back from school, considering he rarely sees them without the water bottle. He never understood why they would infuse their water with the fruit, it barely lasts and they might as well drink sparkling water or juice, but every time he asks the Freelancer shrugs.
While he’s in there he also grabs a small juice box for Caelum. He doesn’t know how it happened, but the Freelancer managed to get Caelum addicted to the sugary things and now they always make sure to have an entire pack in the fridge. He thinks it’s absolutely ridiculous and adorable.
He picks up the house phone in the kitchen and quickly dials out the number for the pizza delivery place.
“ Thank you for calling Max’s Rustic Pizza, my name is Guy, what can I get started for you? ”
Gavin bites back a smirk. What would be the chances of his favorite pizza delivery boy answering the phone (the chances are very high, but Gavin likes to tease by nature).
He orders a large pizza with boneless wings ( “Caelum hates the bone in wings,” Freelancer says. “I always make sure to order boneless just in case he wants any.” ) and makes a comment about being sure to tip.
He hangs up the phone and picks back up the drinks. As he makes his way back to the living room, he pauses at the corner. He can hear Caelum and the Freelancer talking.
“It just, it felt so real . I know Vega isn’t a problem anymore, but I worry so much about you and Gavin. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you two,” Freelancer says. Gavin swears he feels his heart break off and drop to the floor. He knows the Freelancer has nightmares a lot. Often they’re about an untold past, and he swears he can sometimes hear them whispering names he’s never heard or apologizing to a parent. Sometimes they wake up and he can practically feel the guilt radiating off of them, and all they’d say is, “I know Kody was wrong, but I can’t stop it.”
But nightmares of Vega he’s never heard of, especially nightmares of losing Caelum and him to Vega. He’s most likely never heard the Freelancer talk of Vega because they don’t want him feeling guilty.
“Nothing is going to happen to us. Gavin’s pretty strong, and I think the last thing he wants is for any of us to be in trouble. And hey, you’re getting pretty strong yourself. You’re taking all of those classes now! You’ve got nothing to worry about!”
Gavin smiles. Considering everything, he’s glad Caelum is here. Empathy daemons are better suited for this type of comfort than an incubus. Even if he was worried out of his mind at the beginning when he found out that his little deviant had been an empathy daemon’s charge, they had worked something out and now look at the three of them. A sarcastic incubus, a happy-go-lucky empathy daemon, and a humanborn freelancer. Who would’ve thought they’d turn out this way. Certainly not Gavin.
He turns into the living room and looks at them. The Freelancer is sprawled across the couch and looking at the ceiling while Caelum is sat cross-legged on the floor in front of them and holding their hand. Caelum turns to smile at Gavin, but his eyes light up as they land on the juice box in his hand. The incubus rolls his eyes and hands it to Caelum before moving to stand in front of the Freelancer.
Gavin tilts his head and looks down at the human laying on the couch. They make eye contact and he smiles before offering the water bottle. “Drink up, deviant. You need to hydrate.”
They sigh. “You sound like Huxley,” they say, yet they still still take the bottle from his hands and pop open the top.
“I ordered your favorite, that insufferable pizza and wings you like.” He won’t admit that he secretly loves the nights where they can get together and eat pizza and wings and the Freelancer acts like their self. They’d talk about their studies at DAMN and incidents that occur ( “And then it’s too late, cause he’s already saying the incantation and when we look back at him, his pants AND underwear are on the floor! I mean he’s in the middle of the classroom with nothing but his bag to cover himself,” the Freelancer says through laughter. Gavin chokes on a piece of his pizza as Caelum practically falls on the floor in laughter. ). If it’s a particularly good night, Caelum is able to butter them up enough to coax a story out from a horny and rage filled teenagehood ( “My one friend got us banned from a local McDonald’s because he snorted mustard off of the table and sneezed it everywhere.” Caelum and Gavin look at them in complete shock. “Why would he do that?!” Caelum asks. The Freelancer shrugs. “My other friend offered him five dollars and a chicken nugget to do it. That also happened to be the same night I broke my wrist while hopping a fence.” )
“Thanks, Gavin. You didn’t have to do that,” the Freelancer says.
Gavin shakes his head. “I know I didn’t, but I want to. Turns out I quite like you, deviant. Now why don’t you two pick out a movie?”
Caelum and the Freelancer perked up after he said that, and he held back a laugh as they made eye contact, eyes wide and smiles breaking out on their faces.
As he walked towards the small set of steps that led to the above head loft, he saw Caelum out of the corner of his eye practically throwing himself onto the couch.
Reaching the loft, he made a beeline towards the Freelancer’s bed. He grabbed a few pillows from the extensive collection on the bed as well as two fluffy blankets. The bed was still messy from the previous night’s activities, the Freelancer being in such a rush to get to a meeting with Lasko before school that they had forgotten to make it. He chuckled at the memory, the Freelancer having been very enthusiastic to have his attention. So much so that they had gone on for much longer than they usually did that it had even tired out Gavin.
Turning back around, he made his way back down the steps and into the living room. Upon arrival, he saw the screen of the TV on a selected movie. “Labyrinth, huh?”
“It’s great, c’mon Gavin!” Caelum said with a grin.
The Freelancer nodded. “It’s David Bowie, of course it’s great.”
Gavin snorts. “I never said I had a problem with it.”
As he sets the pillows and blankets down, loud knocks come from the door. Before he can even move, the Freelancer is jumping up and grabbing their wallet from the dish on the side table where they keep their keys and other miscellaneous items.
“Nuh uh, I’m getting the pizza this time. I refuse to become known as the house that doesn’t tip, and I can’t trust either of you to not mess with the delivery boy.”
_______
Before long, the three of them have settled down with their food. The couch had practically become a soft heaven with the amount of plush pillows and blankets on it. In the middle of it was the Freelancer, blanket wrapped around them and a plate of pizza. Gavin and Caelum are on both sides of them, Caelum buried under a large blanket, sipping from his juice box. The sounds of Bowie and the goblins singing ‘Magic Dance,’ the Freelancer mumbling along to the lyrics.
“I’m out of juice, I’m gonna go get some more. Do you guys want anything?” Caelum asks as he stands up. Gavin requests a beer and the empathy daemon nods and walks off.
The other two sit in silence, Gavin quietly watching the Freelancer. After a moment of silence, the Freelancer sighs.
“Thank you for tonight. It means a lot to me, more than I can say.”
They don’t even have to say anything. Gavin can see it all, not just the metaphorical knots loosening, but the literal ones as well. Their shoulders are slumped, their brow unfurrowed and their breathing is slow.
“I know, precious. You don’t have to worry anymore or go at it alone. I’m here, and you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me now.” Though he might’ve ended it with a joke, his words still held an unspoken weight. Words that have only been whispered while in between the sheets, caressing and grabbing and holding. I’m here, you’re safe, I’ll take care of you .
The Freelancer chuckles. “I don’t think I want to get rid of you just yet.” Please stay.
Gavin hums and turns back to the TV just in time to see Caelum walking back into the room. He sets his new juice box on the coffee table and pulls a pillow and blanket down onto the floor before plopping down onto the pillow.
“You’re going to...sit on the floor?” The Freelancer asks.
Caelum nods as he rests back against the couch. The Freelancer looks at Gavin in confusion but he only shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza and shifting his attention back to the movie.
Suddenly he feels something land in his lap. He looks down to see the Freelancer’s head in his lap, their body laying sideways and curled up under the blanket. Their plate is long forgotten on the table as they play with the threads of the blanket.
Gavin allows himself to smile as he sets his own plate down and makes himself comfortable. He hums as Caelum shifts so that he’s laying against Gavin’s legs. Internally, Gavin prepared himself for the rest of the night he’d undoubtedly spend on the couch.
________
“I think he’s asleep,” the Freelancer mutters.
“It’s unsettling that he’s able to fall asleep like that,” Gavin replies.
Caelum sat on the floor, his head tilted slightly as he slowly breaths. The previous movie had long ended, the Freelancer having switched to Netflix to put some easy to follow comedy anime on, their head still in his lap.
Gavin brings his hand up and runs it through the Freelancer’s hair. They hum and absentmindedly push their head back into his touch. He smiles and twists the strands in his fingers, letting his nails run against their scalp.
The soft light from the TV washes over their face and he sees their eyelashes cascade against their face as they flutter. “I can see you getting tired. Get some rest, deviant. We’ll still be here when you wake up.”
“How about a kiss goodnight?” They ask.
He rolls his eyes but obliges. When he kisses them, they taste like the shitty pizza they had been eating and he can’t get enough of it. It’s the one good familiar thing he has in this world. The Freelancer feels like home underneath his hands, all soft and smiles and quiet laughter.
As he pulls away he gives them one last peck on the lips. “There, now go to sleep.”
“...M’kay…” The Freelancer turns back on their side and adjusts themselves to get comfortable.
He leans back and watches as the Freelancer drifts off to sleep, his hand still running through their hair.
Quietly, he pulls out his phone and opens the camera. Angling the phone, he snaps a quick picture of the two troublemakers in his life asleep on top of him and then pockets his phone again.
As the TV continues to play whatever it was playing, Gavin rests his head back and smiles, slowly falling asleep himself.
Chapter 2
Summary:
The day after, with more sweetness than the Freelancer’s cooking.
Notes:
Sequel time baby! I listened to a certain song while writing the first part, I even incorporated a few lyrics. First person to guess it gets a virtual kith
CW/TW: nightmare, self doubt, could be read as a panic attack
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The Freelancer gasps, bolting upright. They throw their hands out and feel their surroundings, their eyes flickering around the room.
They’re in their bedroom in the loft. Gavin must’ve moved them up here after they had fallen asleep. They’re also still in the clothes they had worn to school and suddenly it’s too hot and they’re tearing off the DAMN sweatshirt, their chest feeling as if they’re being suffocated. Everything is too much but not enough, and the room is spinning and they can still hear the lingering whispers of harsh words—
“Hey, hey , focus, Freelancer. I’m right here, you’re in your room, nowhere else.”
“Gavin?” The Freelancer croaks out.
They hear the sheets ruffling. “Yes, it’s me. Can I touch you?”
The Freelancer doesn’t bother to answer and instead throws themselves into Gavin. The incubus makes a noise of surprise before wrapping his arms around them, rocking them back and forth ever so slightly.
The Freelancer gasps for air, trying to time their breathing to the rhythmic beat of Gavin’s heart. Gavin shushes them and murmures small promises of safety, one of his hands running up and down the back of their head.
“‘M sorry…” The Freelancer mumbles into his shoulder.
“Don’t be sorry, baby.”
They sit in silence for a few more moments, the only sounds being the Freelancer’s heavy breathing and the occasional affirmation from Gavin.
Eventually the Freelancer is able to calm down. Their body has stopped shaking for the most part, but their hands still tremble as they grip onto Gavin. Their head slumps down against his chest and he leans back against the headboard to accommodate them.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.
The Freelancer shakes their head ‘no.’
“Do you want me to get Caelum?”
Another head shake. He sighs.
“Can you turn the light on?” They mumble into his chest.
Gavin stretches his arm out and flicks on the lamp on the bedside table. The lamp emits a soft glow bright enough to light up the area around the bed, but the corners of the room are still dark. The Freelancer makes a point to not look at those corners.
They’re brought back into the moment by a hand cupping their face. They turn their head to look up at Gavin, his usual cool and confident face now creased with worry. His thumb wipes under their eyes and down their cheeks. Since when had they been crying?
He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. The Freelancer can tell what he’s thinking. If they weren’t in the situation they were in, they’d make a joke about being ‘the Gavin whisperer.’ ( “What the hell do you mean?” The Freelancer laughs and rolls onto their side, the blanket slipping down towards their waist and revealing their bare chest. Gavin’s eyes trail down and the Freelancer flicks his forehead. “You know how like some people are like the cat or baby whisperer? They just know what it’s thinking or what it wants. So that makes me like the Gavin whisperer or something.” He snorts and pulls them closer. “Does that mean I’m the Freelancer whisperer?” He asks. “Nah, you’re cheating. You’re an incubus, that’s like having the act of whispering on easy mode.” He rolls his eyes at their comment. “I’ll pretend I know what you’re saying.” )
“Kody was there,” they finally say. They can feel Gavin’s arms tighten for a brief moment at the mention of the water elemental. “It just felt so... real . I started believing it, everything he’s said. It felt like he was right about me. What if I am a monster, Gavin? What am I even doing here? Do I even deserve my place at DAMN?”
Gavin hushes them, reaching down and intertwining their fingers. He kisses their temple, the press of his lips warm and inviting compared to the burn of their tears running down their face.
Gavin shifts the Freelancer so that they’re laying on top of him. Their hands stay intertwined and he softly squeezes them, a reminder that he’s still there. The Freelancer squeezes back.
“If I could take it all away, I would. If I could change the way that you see yourself, to make you see the brilliant person that I always see, then I’d do it in a heartbeat. You deserve your place in the world. I know you don’t have a good past, one that you don’t want to talk about, but it doesn’t define you. You are in charge of what defines you. Not anyone else, and certainly not some watery shithead that thinks he’s entitled to your success,” he says.
The Freelancer lets out a small laugh. Gavin considers it a small victory in his book. They take a deep breath. “As far as anyone who might care knows, my life started here in Dahlia.”
Gavin hums. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Freelancer from Dahlia.”
They squeeze his hand harder. “...Can you say it?” They mumble.
He calls their name, their true name, the one that bears so much weight on them, and it rolls perfectly off his tongue, the name falling softly from his lips. It’s enough to make the Freelancer practically crumble as their tears start up again.
“Thank you,” they say through the tears.
He helps wipe them once more. “Why are you crying, precious?”
“It’s good tears, Gav.”
He lets them cry, it’s the least he could do. Hell, they could hit him in rage and he’d let them. “I’m not scared of you, Freelancer. You can let your walls down.”
The pair stay like that for who knows how long, Gavin filling the silence with coos of appreciation. Eventually the Freelancer falls back asleep, their body going slack and their breathing slowing. Gavin finds himself following suit and letting his eyes close.
____________
The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting rays of golden light across the loft bedroom. In the distance, a bird sings it’s song, it’s sweet melody carried through the open window along with the cool breeze of spring.
The Freelancer groans as they blink open their eyes. They decide it’s too bright for them and they throw the blanket over their head, curling under the warmth of the blankets.
“Are you awake?”
They once again groan in response to Gavin’s question. He chuckles at their tiredness.
The bed dips and the Freelancer pokes their head out to see Gavin staring down at them. He smiles and reaches out to tug at a strand of hair, the Freelancer swatting at his hand in retaliation.
“You should get up,” he says.
The Freelancer sighs and sits up, stretching out their arms and back, grinning in satisfaction at the pops. Gavin makes a noise of disgust. He does that every time (another routine they have. The Freelancer knows how weirded out Gavin gets when their bones crack, yet they still do it).
“Good morning,” they say.
Gavin clicks his tongue. “Well it’s noon, so it’s more like ‘good afternoon,’ but good morning to you as well, deviant.”
“It’s noon?!” Their eyebrows shoot up as if they haven’t slept in later than this. Gavin laughs and nods.
The Freelancer quickly stands up and stretches their legs. They scan the room and find their socks laying on the floor. As they bend over to pick them up, Gavin lets out a low wolf whistle which earns him a glare and a rude hand gesture.
They turn back around once they have their socks on and collapse against their bed, their face buried into the mattress. Gavin shifts onto his side and props his head up on his palm, his other way tracing up and down the other’s back.
“I think Caelum is still asleep. I managed to get him onto the couch, so at least he’s not on the floor,” Gavin mentions.
The Freelancer snorts as they turn their head to look at him. “Are you hungry?” They ask.
“That depends on what you’re asking. If you’re asking if I want food, then I could go for food. But if you’re asking if I’m hungry for the other thing, then I could also go for that.”
“Pancakes it is then,” they reply.
Gavin laughs as he sits up. He stands and the Freelancer moves to stand as well, but he stops them before they can. “Allow me, my precious voyeur.”
He easily scoops the Freelancer into his arms as if he’s done this hundreds of times. They yelp and grip onto his arms, causing him to laugh once again.
“I’m not going to drop you. I’m a demon, remember?”
He adjusts them and makes his way to the stairs, carefully walking down them one step at a time. “Please don’t fall,” the Freelancer says. “I don’t want Caelum to find us dead at the landing.”
Gavin rolls his eyes as he steps off the stairs and turns into the living room. There Caelum is curled up on the couch, his horns poking out from underneath the blanket that had been placed on him. He walks past him and into the kitchen and sets the Freelancer down onto the breakfast nook.
“Coffee?”
The Freelancer nods and graciously accepts the mug given to them. They take a sip and sigh, smiling at the warmth. “Alright, let me get started on breakfast,” they say, standing and setting the mug on the table.
Gavin takes their spot at the nook and leans back as he watches the Freelancer get to work. They pick their phone up off of the counter and scroll through their music library. When they find a playlist they like, they connect to a small Bluetooth radio and set the phone back down.
As the music starts up the Freelancer opens the fridge and pulls out a few ingredients as well as their water bottle (Gavin had put it back in the fridge last night, knowing the Freelancer’s habits).
The entryway to the kitchen creaks and Gavin shifts his eyes over to see Caelum trudging in, wiping the sleep from his eyes and smiling. “Good morning, Caelum,” the Freelancer chirps as they pour the pancake mix into a measuring cup.
Caelum makes a soft sound of awe. “Are you making pancakes?”
The Freelancer giggles. “Yes, yes I am.”
Gavin smiles and makes room for Caelum at the nook. The Freelancer hums along to the song playing as they pour the mix into the pan. Their hips start to slowly sway and their foot taps along to the beat (Gavin will deny that it warms his heart, but Caelum knows). The Freelancer occasionally sings along. They’re smiling as they start to cut up pieces of fruit while they wait for the pancakes to cook.
“I like this song,” Caelum comments. He’s intently watching the Freelancer. He must see what Gavin sees as well. They’re practically shining, the knots in them loosening enough to give them a break.
“Gavin, can you flip these?” They ask.
Gavin makes his way over and shoos them out of the way, grabbing the spatula from the counter and carefully checking the pancakes. He flips over a few, earning a round of applause from Caelum and the Freelancer. He rolls his eyes and flips the rest, grabbing a plate from the cabinet above him and setting it down next to the stove.
He turns and watches the Freelancer turn the radio up and grab an orange from the bowl. A new song starts up and they smile, popping an orange peel in between their teeth as they cut through the fruit.
Gavin wraps his arms around their waist from behind and rests his head on their shoulder. “What song is this?” He asks.
“After The Storm.”
Gavin hums. He thinks it’s quite fitting of their current situation, the whole peace after the Storm metaphor. He kisses their cheeks and revels in the way their eyes widen.
“What was that for?” They ask.
“I thought you wanted more kisses, considering the way you were so passionately singing that last song.”
The Freelancer scoffs, removing the orange peel from their mouth and adding it to the pile. “I wasn’t ‘passionately singing,’ you’re just an egoist.” Gavin laughs.
“That may be true, but you seem to have no problem with it,” he says, turning their head to the side to plant a kiss on their lips. The Freelancer smiles into it. He notices the contrast of the strong taste of oranges and coffee compared to the taste of pizza and wings from the previous night's kisses. It makes him smile (if he were a poet, he’d make some sappy metaphor of it being like the Freelancer showing him their different sides, but he’s an incubus, so he’ll just stick to noticing how good of a kisser the human is).
“I uh, I think the pancakes are starting to burn,” Caelum says. Gavin cusses into the Freelancer’s mouth and pulls away, quickly pushing the pancakes onto the plate.
The Freelancer snorts, which earns them a side glare from Gavin, and puts the rest of the cut up fruit into a bowl. “Thank you for the reminder, Caelum.”
_________
“I really wasn’t expecting to take a sip of Prosecco at eight in the morning,” Gavin says, cringing at the memories of his time at DAMN.
The Freelancer hummed. “Something like that happened to me as well. This girl who had been very sweet the entire year had chugged something from her water bottle, and when she gave me a sip I was unpleasantly surprised when what she was drinking was an energy drink mixed with some cheap beer. I guess testing in the magical world is just as grueling as the unempowered world.”
Gavin snorts as he picks up a blueberry and pops it into his mouth. Caelum shakes his head. “People can be so scary sometimes. How do you drink that so early?”
The other two shrug as Caelum goes back to eating. The Freelancer picks up their fork and twirls it in their hand. They look at Gavin and pause as if they’re heavily considering something.
“Do you need something, Free—“
The Freelancer cuts him off as they reach forward and snag a piece of his pancakes from his plate. They quickly lean back and bite into the piece.
“Are you kidding me? Eat your own food, deviant.”
They grin at him around the fork in their mouth, causing Caelum to giggle. Gavin rolls his eyes and goes back to eating his food, a small smile on his face. He reaches over and takes the Freelancer’s mug from their hands.
“Hey!” They exclaim.
He gives them an evil smirk before taking a sip of their coffee and then placing the mug back in their hands.
The Freelancer rolls their eyes, a subtle way of mocking the incubus, and turns to Caelum. The two of them start talking about some sort of art project that the Freelancer is working on. Gavin wants to listen and understand what the two of them are saying, but he finds it’s too difficult. Of course the two of them have his undivided attention, it’s just that his attention is more focused on the sight aspect.
He leans back against the back of the nook and watches them. They both have sweet smiles on their faces as they passionately talk. Gavin notices that the Freelancer has a smudge of food on the corner of their mouth, and when he reaches over and wipes it off with his thumb they don’t startle. They just give him that heart melting smile and go back to their conversation. It makes him feel something in his chest, but he ignores that feeling. He knows what it is, he’s known for a long time. Ever since that fateful day in the 7/11 he’s known that the Freelancer would be different. He could see it in the way they refused to look at his compromising position. In fact, they had been quite adamant on being “cold” towards Gavin when they first met. Maybe that’s why he was so drawn to them, because for the first time in his life as an incubus he had met someone who wasn’t immediately all over him and dying to get in his pants (well, the Freelancer did have a very obvious want to touch him, but they had enough self control to not throw themselves under him).
Gavin knows exactly what that feeling in his chest is. It’s not like he hates the feeling, in fact he quite enjoys it. He just won’t say it. Whether that is because he’s afraid of it or because he doesn’t want to jinx it, he doesn’t quite know. What he does know is that the Freelancer just accidentally made a dirty joke while talking to Caelum, and they are looking at him desperately for help while the empathy daemon sputters with his eyes wide. He laughs and shakes his head. “Nice one, deviant.” He doesn’t remember exactly what was said, but he does know that it involved him and something big .
It doesn’t matter now . Gavin let’s the feeling grow in the back of his mind, choosing to instead focus on the other two’s conversation. He’ll tell himself he’s just monitoring to make sure the two of them don’t do something stupid together, but he knows better. It doesn’t matter because Caelum is begging Gavin to drive out and get the Freelancer’s favorite ice cream. “I need to know what it tastes like!” He explains.
He’s hesitant to do so—he doesn’t want to leave this moment—but the Freelancer looks at him and says, “I’ll reimburse you.” They’ll both pretend they’re talking about money.
Gavin relents and stands up, earning a cheer from the others. He most definitely could get used to this.
Notes:
Have a good day/night. Remember to drink your water and be patient with yourself!
TheodoreBasmanov on Chapter 1 Sun 02 May 2021 05:31AM UTC
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Melinabell060518 on Chapter 1 Sun 02 May 2021 09:34PM UTC
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starstruck_strawberry on Chapter 1 Mon 03 May 2021 06:22PM UTC
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orphan_account on Chapter 1 Mon 03 May 2021 08:33PM UTC
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TooLazyToThinkofAUsername (Guest) on Chapter 1 Thu 20 May 2021 05:54PM UTC
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Melina Campana (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 21 Jul 2021 05:10AM UTC
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TheodoreBasmanov on Chapter 2 Tue 01 Jun 2021 04:32PM UTC
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starstruck_strawberry on Chapter 2 Wed 02 Jun 2021 01:21AM UTC
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HowdyCowboy on Chapter 2 Fri 25 Jun 2021 08:17PM UTC
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Romirola on Chapter 2 Tue 17 Aug 2021 12:36PM UTC
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AnodyneHiraeth on Chapter 2 Tue 11 Jan 2022 03:18PM UTC
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Drosana on Chapter 2 Sun 12 Nov 2023 03:33AM UTC
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