Chapter Text
Narinder blinked slowly as he sat under the large apple tree he’d often found himself seeking out, watching the Lamb frolicking around the field with the Goat in tow, autumn leaves crunching beneath their hooves with every movement. The two jumped and dodged each other with practiced precision, the infant God’s laugh reaching Narinder’s ears, making one of them twitch at the familiar, pleasant sound.
The Goat was currently on top of the woolen creature, having just managed to tackle their counterpart unapologetically to the ground, smearing them with grass and dirt. The Lamb began to kick up their feet, managing to push the darker God off of themselves with visible difficulty, standing up as to soon continue their escape.
Narinder’s tail flicked in agitation, eyes narrowing because of the feeling that began to gnaw at the three-eyed cat as of late:
Envy.
Ever since the two Gods began to hang around together more often, Narinder couldn’t help but notice how much he’d hated to share.
Of course, the Lamb could do whatever they’d pleased. Could invite and spend time with whomever they wanted. In fact, Narinder’s jealousy had further been unfounded because both him and Lamb had been spending more time together. So much so that they’d both slept in the leader’s tent. In the same bed.
Simultaneously, however, what the two had, what they were attempting, was still soft and fragile.
So, theoretically, Narinder should know better than to be jealous. Yet the feeling simmered persistently, forcing Narinder to attempted to distract himself.
The cat thought of how the usually-confident leader would bashfully ask to be kissed sometimes, standing up on their tiptoes in order to reach the taller cat’s lips. Was Narinder a cruel being for letting them strain themselves to reach? Often watching the Lamb slowly open a single eye only to find Narinder looking down at them with a teasing, warm smile.
Seeing the Lamb turn a bright crimson only solidified red as Narinder’s favourite colour. Having to pepper the smaller being’s face with soft kisses in order to get back into their good grace had been a sacrifice Narinder was more than willing to make.
The memory alone made a soft smile involuntarily upturn the black cat’s lips. The private, delicate version that only Narinder got to see. His Lamb.
‘One the Goat would never get to see,’, a bitter, proud part of Narinder reminded himself as he continued to watch the two Gods. Lambert hadn’t seen the Goat in a month or so, inviting their darker counterpart to come and stay at their cult for a while. Today, this being day three of the Goat being around, they’d invited the Goat and Narinder out for a picnic.
At first, Narinder was going to refuse, telling the Lamb that, without being mean, he literally did not care about spending time with their suspicious friend. The Lamb, however, had an innate ability to make Narinder do whatever they wanted. The cat hadn’t been proud of it, but all it took was a gentle smile and a single ‘please?’ and Narinder relented.
So there he was, sitting under a tree in a pool of his own, sour jealousy. The cat had options to entertain himself, with the Lamb making sure to summon just short of 20 books for Narinder to pick from. All interesting and picked specifically with the three-eyed cat in mind.
And yet Narinder decided to be pathetic.
With a gentle sigh, the cat picked up a random book, opening it as though a punishment. Narinder knew no reading would actually be done, but he hated the thought of Lambert giving him that sad look, thinking the books they’d picked hadn’t been to the cat’s liking.
Truly, the Lamb had him wrapped around their delicate finger.
——
“My fleece is ruined.”, the Lamb sighed sadly upon their approach, earning themselves Narinder’s attention. The cat looked up from his book, finding the sheep poking their finger through a large hole in the fabric, all the while notoriously stained with a mix of grass and dried mud.
The Goat looked to be particularly proud of the fact, puffing out their chest as they spoke, their grating voice making Narinder’s ears flatten.
“You should’ve been faster.”, the other God shrugged, sitting down a short distance from the black cat, leaning back against their hands. The Lamb pouted somewhat, having enjoyed their games yet not so much the aftermath of them. Narinder knew Lamb was fond maintaining their visage.
The cat shuffled slightly away from the Goat on the blanket, urging the Lamb to sit between the two of them. Preferably closer to the former bishop.
Lambert offered Narinder a gentle smile at the action, walking over and stopping just short of the feline, nuzzling into the cat’s cheek affectionately before promptly sitting down beside him.
Narinder reciprocated the gesture by lifting up one of his hands, pulling at a few strands of the Lamb’s wool playfully. The cat could feel the way Lambert shivered under his fingertips, especially given their close proximity.
Narinder barely suppressed an annoyed sigh. The Lamb rarely was so quick to reciprocate these kind of gestures. Clearly, despite the ruined fleece, they’d been in quite good spirits.
Still, the Goat was around, as such the red God’s attention had been regrettably divided.
“You can help me fix it. No harm done, then.”, the Lamb suggested to the Goat, yet the tone of their voice was light and unserious. “Or we could make a new one out of your wool, for once.”, they presented an alternative.
In the meantime, as the two spoke, Narinder began to pick blades of grass and stray leaves out of the Lamb’s white wool.
The Goat snorted an ugly laugh, looking over towards the Lamb as they shuffled to lay down onto the blanket.
“I don’t have wool,”, they pointed out, “I’m a cashmere Goat.”
“… so? You could make clothing from your coat.”, the Lamb rose a questioning brow.
“Duh,”, the Goat deadpanned, “but of higher prestige than wool. I’d have to ruin like…”, the Goat trailed off, counting on their fingers, “seven more fleeces. Then maybe I’ll make you one.”, the darker God hummed, “besides, I’ve recently made you something. You ought to use that, first.”
The Lamb sighed, rolling their eyes playfully. The three fell into a comfortable silence as the two Gods let the conversation die, Lamb reached purposefully into the picnic basket as to retrieve a small loaf of bread he’d previously made under Narinder’s guidance. The Goat, in turn, closed their eyes peacefully as they appeared to decide to sleep.
Narinder passively looked over at the Goat, yet was quick to return his attention to the one he’d actually wanted to look at.
Rather unsurprisingly, the Lamb was already watching the cat, a gentle smile warm on their features as they tore the bread between their hands in two, passing the the slightly bigger piece to their beloved.
Narinder thanked the smaller being with a gentle nod, taking the offered food, hands touching at the exchange. The Lamb continued to watch the bishop, waiting for the cat’s reaction.
The former God took a bite of the bread, quick to hum in contentment.
“Your technique improves with every loaf,”, Narinder praised, smiling in light amusement at the evident pride that welled up within the woolen creature, “it’s very nice.”, the cat then concluded curtly.
Lambert smiled happily, glancing over to the Goat’s unmoving, peaceful form before sitting up to his knees, shuffling a little closer to the black feline, eyes expectant. Needy, almost.
Narinder swallowed the rest of the bread somewhat hastily, inspecting the Lamb’s actions. Their movements.
This had been quite the unusual turn of events.
“I’m glad you like it.”, Lambert seemed to speak more so to fill the silence, actions continuing on autopilot as the red wearing God was soon inches away from the taller, former God. Their gaze flickered to Narinder’s lips for a fraction of a second, quickly returning to his crimson eyes, instead.
A silent ask for permission.
Clearly, the Lamb hadn’t felt their usual shyness when it came to these affections today. Instead, their behaviour demanded attention. It was wanting.
And Narinder seldom doesn’t give the Lamb what they want.
So Narinder closed the remaining distance between them, pressing their lips together before immediately feeling the Lamb melt at the contact. Lambert reached out his arms to wrap them around the feline’s shoulders, sighing contently into the kiss.
The black cat barely had a moment to adjust or embrace the Lamb back before the God demanded to deepen the kiss. Their warm tongue licked the cat’s bottom lip, chuckling into Narinder’s mouth with the ease at which they’d been welcomed in.
Narinder could still remember the first time they’d shared a kiss such as this. The way the Lamb pulled away in alarm, eyes wide as they looked Narinder’s face up and down for answers.
The cat had a barbed tongue.
Kissing was unintentionally rough. Painful, oftentimes. Narinder often found himself tasting the Lamb’s blood in his mouth whenever the two would kiss more passionately.
And although their first kiss had made the Lamb pause in surprise, following that day, they had grown insatiably hungry for it. They’ve evidently found pleasure in the pain.
Narinder was no sadist, but the way Lambert would moan into the kiss. Whine in pleasure whenever their own blood was drawn. It made the cat feel equally delirious.
Inevitably, the Lamb’s own masochism proved to work quite well with Narinder’s own desire to mark the other. To bite into the soft flesh of their neck and leave marks where their off-coloured scar was. Somewhere only he could see in the privacy of their home. Yet, admittedly, Narinder had moments where he’d wanted to show the entire world who the Lamb chose. Who they allowed to mark them.
Regrettably, the two never yet ventured beyond the kissing and biting. The Lamb would breathlessly pull away, cheeks flushed as they bashfully asked to cuddle instead. Naturally, Narinder relented easily. Kissing the woolen God’s fresh wounds and making sure to pet them soothingly.
‘I love when you purr, Nari.’, the Lamb mused once, nuzzling themselves further into the black cat’s chest. Narinder hadn’t remembered a time when he had purred in the past. Perhaps back when he’d been a kitten, young and naive. But the Lamb was the one who brought the happy action back.
Lambert had been the only one Narinder was willing to purr for.
“Ugh, gross,”, the Lamb startled at the voice, pulling away from Narinder as though burned. Their cheeks immediately reddened in embarrassment, “could the two of you suck face when I’m not here, please?”, the Goat asked, grimacing deeply.
Although the Lamb was quick to apologise, Narinder could do nothing else but give the darker God a good glare.
The Lamb sat back beside the cat, yet Narinder could only really focus on how much he’d missed the contact. The warmth of it. Watching the Goat and Lamb fall into easy, casual conversation made envy bubble up in his gut all over again.
Narinder couldn’t help but stare at the Lamb’s exposed neck. Watch their Adam’s apple bob as they spoke happily about one thing or another with the Goat.
Narinder wanted to mark it. Bite the soft skin right over their off-colour scar.
He wanted everyone to know that the Lamb was his.
Sharing really hadn’t been for him.
——
By the time the three returned home, nighttime had already fallen. Paradise was illuminated only by the soft, orange glow of the many lanterns the Lamb had built. They bathed the settlement in warmth, making it appear welcoming even during cold, moonless nights.
There was innate comfort in arriving back at the camp. It had grown to be Narinder’s home, after all.
After bidding the Goat good night, with the rugged God trotting away happily and climbing the tree they usually slept atop, Lambert outstretched his hand towards the former God expectantly. Their soft smile as disarming as ever.
Narinder took the offered limb naturally, intertwining their fingers as the two of them walked leisurely back to the leader’s tent, doing so side by side.
The cat often obviously stared at their partner, enjoying the moment he’d catch the Lamb attempt to sneak a glance at the cat, also. It had been incredibly endearing how mortified the woolen creature would become at being caught, even when Narinder himself unapologetically stared at the other for minutes on end.
Narinder hummed thoughtfully as he continued to watch his beloved, remembering the day the two officially decided to give this relationship a try. Narinder spoke of how worried he had been for the Lamb. How much stress the possibility of the Goat hurting the young God brought him. Of his own worthlessness had the Lamb actually died.
Lamb always gave the cat the privacy of his mind, yet on that day he’d asked the young God to read it. For them to understand what Narinder truly felt towards them.
And now they were here. Narinder had never seen the Lamb so perpetually happy before. And, being completely honest, Narinder himself hadn’t felt this at peace before, either. He’d loved Lambert with his entire self.
Of course he’d said yes to their later proposal.
When the two finally arrived at their tent, the Lamb gently lifted the cat’s hand up to their cheek. The two locked eyes as Lambert nuzzled himself into the bandaged limb lovingly, planting a single kiss atop the bishop’s knuckles before reluctantly letting go.
Narinder leaned down following the show of affection, leaving a chaste, fleeting kiss upon the Lamb’s lips. Lamb chased the action, yet Narinder straightened before their lips could meet again. Lambert pouted lightly, rolling their eyes playfully in mild annoyance.
“I’ll prepare for bed and be right back, Nari.”
“Mm,”, the cat hummed noncommittally, “be quick with it.”, Narinder spoke simply, turning towards their shared bed, swift to pull at the fabric of his robe.
The Lamb laughed, the sound as heavenly as it always was.
“What? Can’t stand a moment without me?”, the small being teased, yet trotted into the separate compartment of the tent with added vigour. Narinder’s lips twitched up into a smile.
“Don’t get it twisted, Lamb,”, the cat spoke with feigned indifference, “you’re warm, and your bed is cold. It’s not a complex equation.”
“Our bed,”, the Lamb corrected from the other room, the sound of their bell echoing around the small space gently. “Besides, you’re the one that ends up wrapping me up in the covers,”, the God complained, “I always wake up clammy and gross.”
The cat shrugged as though the Lamb could see the gesture, his own robe now folded neatly atop the Lamb’s small dresser. Narinder was quick to put on his night gown, the white fabric reaching a little above his knees.
Naturally, it had been crafted for the cat by the new God of death.
“Only because otherwise you’d stick to me as though velcro,”, the cat pointed out, “then I’m the one ‘clammy and gross’ the following morning.”, the cat parroted good-naturally, seating himself at the edge of the bed. A warm smile etched onto his features at the recent memory of the Lamb nestled close. Of their pitiful attempts at trying to free themselves from the cat’s grasp, sleep preventing any accuracy to their movements.
“You’ve some backwards logic, my love.”, Lamb sighed in defeat at the conclusion, yet innate fondness was laced in their words. The cat stretched tiredly, not making an attempt to actually move into bed. Although he’d always sleep on the same side, he’d still much preferred waiting for the woolen God to get under the covers first. It meant Narinder had been able to lay partially atop the other, nuzzling into their soft wool much to the God’s amused complaint.
So the black cat passively stared at the screen that divided the ‘rooms’ in the tent, eyes blinking lazily as his ears twitched with every sound of movement. Of shuffle of fabric or the chime of a bell.
Narinder’s brows furrowed rather abruptly, the fabric he’d heard had been unfamiliar- not to mention that when Lamb’s movements eventually did still, the usually red-adorned God remained uncharacteristically motionless.
A beat of silence passed, Narinder unable to quell the small flame of worry that flickered in the depth of his stomach.
“Are you alright?”, the cat asked cautiously, head tilting as he’d continued to watch the screen, as though it would provide answers.
A gentle sigh echoed around the space, relief instantly washing over the cat.
“Yeah it’s just-“, the Lamb stopped abruptly, letting out a small grumble, “the Goat, they’ve… made something for me.”, Lambert began to explain, the cat on the bed’s features turning confused at the words.
“Alright,”, Narinder hummed in understanding, “do you not like it?”, he’d then asked carefully, trying to discern what the issue may be.
“No, I do, it’s just…”, the Lamb trailed off for a moment, “they’d said this is a gift for the both of us. And it’s- just don’t laugh alright, Nari?”, the Lamb asked hopefully, very evidently embarrassed at whatever it had been the Goat gave them.
Come to think of it, the Goat had brought something upon their arrival. It was carefully placed in a colourful gift bag, where the Goat proudly proclaimed they’d made whatever it was with their own coat. Narinder hadn’t got to see whatever it was the darker God brought, but the Lamb’s quickly reddening features and the way they immediately hid the gift had been a cause for curiosity.
One Narinder simply forgot to bring up- far too preoccupied with his own jealousy and the endless thoughts of his beloved.
“I wouldn’t.”, the cat assured confidently, voice leaving no room for uncertainty. Although the Lamb’s only response was a sigh, it had clearly been that of relief. They knew they could trust Narinder’s word.
So after only another second of delay, the Lamb carefully stepped foot out from behind the dividing screen, revealing themselves in all of their gorgeous glory.
Before them stood the Lamb, wearing a dark-grey, almost see-through garment. They wore a beautifully made body suit, one accompanied by gentle ribbons that turned gracefully into loops, creating accentuating bows.
Lambert looked even more radiant than usual, something Narinder thought impossible.
The cat swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly uncomfortably dry. All three of his eyes remained firm onto their beloved, trailing their form up and down, incapable of getting enough.
The Lamb soon chuckled, clearly a lot more confident than they had been before. Their shoulders relaxed and a comfortable sigh escaped their lips.
“I’m not sure why I’d been so worried,”, they hummed, taking careful steps towards the taller cat, who’d still been rooted uselessly on the bed, “though purring, for whatever reason, I hadn’t anticipated.”, the Lamb continued sassily, drawing attention to the fact Narinder had, if fact, began to purr lowly.
Lambert closed the distance, cupping the cat’s face before pulling him into a long, needy kiss. They’d messily bit at the cat’s lower lip, relishing in the hunger with which Narinder reciprocated the action.
The former God grasped onto Lambert’s hips harshly. Desperately. Claws digging into the sheep just enough to make them whine in a mix of pain and pleasure.