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It was an absolute certainty that Dewdrop would be restless after an intense ritual. And intensity came in a multitude of forms, sparked from such an unpredictable range of stimulus: A particular string of unwavering eye contact as he reached into the crowd, fingers inches away from grasps that screamed delicious desperation; just the right amount of thudding in his ears from his proximity to Mountain’s drums, towing the line between pleasant and painful overwhelm of his senses; the feeling of knuckles catching the strings of his guitar, grazing the skin in waiting threat of another blood-covered setlist incident.
It was the latter this time, raw fingertips combined with the fire ghoul’s overly self-critical analysis of what Rain would’ve considered a relatively flawless performance sending him into a downward spiral. The others would tell him he was okay— fantastic, even. But, if Dew thought a show had gone bad, it had gone bad, and he would be helpless to be convinced otherwise until he had stopped the feeling of crawling disappointment itching beneath his skin.
He had broken away from the rest of the ghouls as soon as their masks were off, tucking himself away in his corner of the bus until they reached the hotel, only to do the same once keys had been distributed with a louder-than-expected slam of the door.
He and Rain often shared a hotel room, and this one was no different. Whether they stayed together was another question entirely— room assignments were more of a suggestion than a hard-and-fast rule, especially since the ghouls would gravitate to one another regardless of how many walls were between them. There was an unspoken consensus that Dew would be left alone that night, by everyone aside from Rain. He didn’t mind— in fact, he was hoping for a chance to destress with him; just as much as Dew’s fire could push him to boiling point, Rain’s water could quell his flames.
He could hear the shower running as he shut the door behind him with a soft click, the room filled with a distinct smell of kerosene. Even with the door to the bathroom closed, heat was pouring through the cracks in humid curls of steam that filled the room with a thick, uncomfortable warmth. Dew always took showers far too hot for him, claiming delight in how water never scalded him no matter how close to boiling it ran. The part of him still clinging to some sense of water ghoul recoiled at the pain, but relished in the downpour.
It made showering with him a difficulty, especially for Rain, despite how much he wanted to. He made the decision to kick off his shoes and change into the shirt and sweats tucked into his bag instead, unglamouring the length of his horns and his tail as he sat at the side of the bed and waited. He knew Dew would be able to sense him, sense the gentle ebbing smell of freshwater counterbalancing his own; it saved the need to knock, yell through the shower or otherwise risk startling him.
Eventually the shower shut off and the door swung open— the kerosene was lighter, soap and shampoo washing away enough of the ick from his skin that he could stomach being in the same room as Rain. His own sweats hung low on his hips, collar of his shirt damp from where he couldn’t have been bothered enough to dry his hair thoroughly. His eyes landed on Rain, pulling down and away to avoid more eye contact than he could handle. His tail flicked behind him, low and pressed close to his legs. Rain shifted, wordlessly inviting him to sit beside him.
He was apprehensive, that much was easy to tell, but Rain was gentle, Rain was safe , and even when he felt his body crawling with unrest he was hopeless to fight the subconscious pull the water ghoul had. He sat, though kept a short distance he wanted Rain to break. And he did, slowly reaching up to shift away the stray locks of damp hair from his face. Beneath his fingertips, Dew was tense, almost painfully so. “…Oh, firefly, you’re so stiff—” He gently cupped his cheek, frowning as Dew instinctively pulled away before easing back down, “Talk to me.”
It wasn’t a suggestion, and the fire ghoul flexed his fingers, unglamoured fangs pulling from the spot on his inner cheek where they had been gradually digging in, “…I fucking fumbled. Again. My tone was off, I almost tripped twice on that little fucking hidden- fucking- It was a shit show, I don’t know what else to tell you, and now I-”
Rain ran his thumb over his cheek, against the prickling heat under his skin, and he did his best to slow himself down. Dew found emotion hard to rationalise, hard to articulate, and his acute self-awareness of that fact never made him feel any better; he wanted to be rational, which might’ve been the thing to make him feel worse. “…I just want my brain to shut the fuck up so I can stop feeling so damn pathetic.”
…That string of words pulled something to the forefront of Rain’s awareness: Aether sitting just a few short inches away from him, voice low in his ear as his fingers ghosted over the skin of his jawline and up through his hair; sparks of quintessence magic sending gentle static shocks through his nerves, blanking his mind in momentary bursts of a relaxing nothingness. It had been an impromptu lesson in the capabilities of Quintessence ghouls, how the manipulation of energy came in so many forms, all it took was a clear intent to weave its way from the physical to the mental. Rain remembered the calm of it the most, how silent his mind had been as his fingertips tapped against his temple and pushed the energy in the space his thoughts had once resided.
He’d been on the verge of a meltdown, and Aether had managed to coax him away from a complete downward spiral. Maybe he could…
“…Do you trust me?”
Dew’s tail flickered, eyebrows furrowing at the water ghoul’s soft, but somewhat assertive tone. “Huh?”
“I think I know how I can help you.”
His other hand rested on his knee, though it did little to subdue the restless bouncing of the leg beneath it. Dew was still tense, though receptive, “I can try turning your brain off, just a little bit,” His thumb ran over the fabric beneath it, mirroring the motion over his cheek, “Might make it easier for you to settle down, put today’s ritual behind you and just… leave it there.”
Dew scoffed— ‘putting things behind him’ wasn’t in his habit repertoire, but he could still feel that sick lump in his throat and it held the possibility of frustrated tears over his head like a taunt. “…Do what you need to, Rainy.” He mumbled, tilting his head to press a kiss into his open palm, “…I- I’m trusting you.”
It was all Rain needed to hear, and he smiled softly as he brought the fire ghoul into a kiss. Kissing Dewdrop often led to escalation, it led to clashing teeth and bitten lips, and Rain found it intoxicating . He was a hard ghoul to resist, but when he tried pushing further, Rain held firm, held control of pace and passion. Dew let out a quiet growl and shifted, vying to move himself onto Rain’s lap.
He moved so his back was flat against the headboard, allowing for Dew to swing his leg over his thighs in a comfortable, closer straddle. Replacing one kind of restlessness for another, in Rain’s eyes, would be enough to ease Dew into the concept of fully giving in to him. One of his hands rested on his waist, the other staying at his cheek as he parted their lips, “Ready?”
“Hit me, Rainy.”
He slowly inched his fingertips a little higher than where they had been at the line of his jaw, moving his index just above his ear, “Keep your eyes on me, okay? Listen to me closely, know that you’re safe,” He echoed sentiments he recalled from when Aether had done this for him, brushing more strands of hair away from his face, “I’ll do it once, if you don’t like it-”
“Rain, please.”
He trailed off, and took in a small breath as he felt pins and needles push through his chest, towards his arm and concentrating in his hand as small flickers of white mixed into the soft, deep blue of his eyes. He held Dew steady as he tapped his finger against the side of his head, sending one quick pulse of energy into him.
For a fraction of a moment, the tension and aggravation in his eyes was replaced with a kind of quiet he had very rarely seen in Dew. Though it was only momentary, Rain didn’t want to push him too deep into this unknown without getting a feel of how it settles on him. “Ohwhatthefuck-” He exhaled sharply, hands twitching into a grip on Rain’s shirt collar, “Okay- Shit-”
“I’ve got you.” He ran his hand up through his hair, repeating the motion slowly as he carefully read his expression with furrowed brows, “Was that too much, or just a little unexpected?”
“The… second one-” Dew mumbled, not looking or sounding particularly uncomfortable or off-put, more… shocked. “That… Do it again.”
“Dew-?”
“Do it again.”
The eagerness in his voice was more than enough encouragement, and Rain drew him back in, lips ghosting over him as he tapped down again. The spark lasted for just a little longer, giving Rain a clear look into how he melted: Eyelids fluttering as his gaze misted over, lips parting in a short, hitching breath. Kerosene was overwhelmed by something sweeter like a thick, warm honey. He pulled the energy back, allowing Dew time to breathe and to return to himself again, “Fuck, Rainyy..” He sighed, leaning his forehead against his.
Rain couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the ghoul’s sudden shift in demeanour— still himself, still leagues more tense than he should have been, but slower and more… Placid, in a way. He hummed quietly, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips, “That’s it… you’re doing so good for me, just let it wash over you, pushing out all of your stresses and doubt-” He tapped down, “And pushing in calm, peaceful quiet, just for a moment.”
It became a back and forth, a gentle repetition of words and assurances, statements punctuated by a tap, tap, tap against the side of Dew’s skull as Rain brought him up only to further guide him down. It felt like a dull, consistent electric current, targeting the points of tension throughout his body and the nagging in his brain that wouldn’t stop until Rain brought down the pad of his finger once again. Cyclic, repetitive, and maddening in such a way Dew didn’t want him to stop. All he could hear, see, feel , was the ghoul beneath him, his lips pressed to the shell of his ear, pouring in words that overwhelmed any of his own thoughts in a cool, welcome comfort.
Rain had stopped the pulses a long time ago, Dew a well enough melted mess leaning into his palm like overworked putty. He kept whispering, though, mumbling soft praises and comforts that he hoped would last, root themselves in so he would know just how admired he was.
And if they didn’t, Rain would have to tell him all the more often.