#please note how calling him terzo becomes easier for omega with time

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Terzo's hands are always cold. I...I put angst in it. Sorry ?

"Your hands are cold, Cardinal," Omega remarks as he helps the man down from a ladder in the Ministry's library. Terzo, gloveless for once, a heavy tome tucked under his arm, glances up at Omega in surprise, then down at where his hand rests in the ghoul's much larger one.

"Ah, yes, poor circulation and all that. I apologize if it bothers you ; I forgot my gloves in my room."

Terzo makes a move to retreat his hand, but Omega holds fast to it. Bother him ? How could the man's touch ever bother him ?

"Not at all, Cardinal. It was merely unexpected."

Terzo's lips quirk up in his trademark insolent grin.

"I am full of surprises. And I told you, it's Terzo."

"Terzo," Omega corrects himself with a hint of smile in his voice.

Though the man cannot see his face behind the mask and hood, he seems to catch Omega's amusement, mismatched eyes glistening with glee at being responsible for the ghoul's pleasant mood.

His hand squeezes Omega's, coolness seeping under the ghoul's skin like a brand.

"I am going to melt my way back into the Pit," Alpha complains, collar obscenely wide open, almost down to his belt, mask long since discarted. Practice is running late, and the suffocating weather is getting to everyone.

Omega can feel his uniform stick uncomfortably to him, even with a few buttons left open - far less than Alpha still. The quint's mask, though, remains on.

"You sure you don't wanna lose the head cooker, 'Megs ? If you get brain-fried, no one's strong enough to carry you back to your room, princess."

Omega huffs and half-heartedly growls at the mouthy fire ghoul.

"I'm fine. And you've carried me before, asshat."

With a snort, Alpha petulantly crosses his arms.

"Yeah, no, not lifting anything in that weather."

Their banter is interrupted by a mildly entertained Papa.

"Enough, enough you two. You do look a bit hot, dear Omega. Are you positive you are feeling alright ?"

There is concern under Terzo's amusement as he steps closer, brow furrowed under the papal paint. He looks majestic, embracing his still relatively new role like this, easily slipping into the authority of his title.

"I promise I am fine, Papa, it is simply a bit warm."

With a sceptical hum, Terzo reaches out to press a bare hand on the side of the quint's clamy neck, gloves forgone in such a weather.

Omega ever so slightly sags into the touch, hoping that his fellow ghouls won't pick up on it. It isn't only the blissful coolness of the man's palm that warrant such a reaction from Omega, but the ghoul is not ready to look too much into it.

"I've been told my hands are cold," Terzo smirks, sparkling eyes crinkling in the corners. "Is it helping ?"

Omega's voice catches in his throat.

"Yes, Papa."

It certainly does send a pleasant shiver down his spine.

"Good. And it's Terzo, for Lucifer's sake," the man huffs, ignoring Delta's grumble about also being cold to the touch.

When Terzo pulls away, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Omega mourns the contact, eyes straying to the man's hands longingly.

Terzo tastes divine, and Omega is nothing if not a creature of indulgence, licking into the man's mouth like a beast starved for more of this addictive flavor that is so intimately Terzo.

Omega wants to devour him whole.

He paws at the man, blindly gropping his hips, his waist, his shoulders, growling when Terzo is forced to pull away to take a shuddering breath in.

"I've been...wanting to do this...for so long," he pants, paint smudged around his mouth. Omega groans, enamored with the pink the confession brings to Terzo's ears.

If he's being honest, Omega saw it coming. Ever since he started losing the mask in front of him, Terzo had seemed incapable of not staring at the ghoul, eyes lingering on his lips any chance he got.

"Me too," the quint sighs, promptly molding their mouths together again. His tail wags helplessy when Terzo's hands start to roam, deftly unbuttoning his uniform after a pause to ensure Omega would let him. The ghoul burries his nose in Terzo's neck, inhaling his scent, grazing his teeth against the delicate skin.

Terzo pushes the uniform off his shoulders, eager. Omega yelps, back hitting the closed bedroom door.

"Shit, fuck, sorry, are you okay ?" Terzo mumbles, eyes searching, hands stilling where they're splayed over his chest.

"Yes, fine. Hands. Cold. Surprised me," Omega chuckles, pressing a soft kiss under Terzo's ear. The man hums.

"Do you want me to stop ?" he teases, still tortuously unmoving. Omega grunts, letting his lips peal back in a playful snarl, thick fangs scraping more insistantly against Terzo's neck.

"If you stop, I might bite, Terzo Emeritus," he warns. Unbothered, the man tangles his hand in Omega's hair.

"Oof, the governement name. Please do, my dear Omega, I fear that sounded more arousing than you planed it to."

Groaning, Omega presses his forehead to Terzo's.

"You're impossible."

A sparkling, hungry grin as hands start to explore once again.

"That I am."

It's late, and there isn't enough light in Terzo's bedroom to see much more than vague shapes, yet he still traces Omega's scars and tattoos with perfect accuracy, raising goosebumps on his skin.

"Ah, I forget," Terzo whispers in the dark, head resting on Omega's chest, "cold hands. You're shivering, my love."

The quint grabs Terzo's wrist before he can withdraw his hand.

"I don't mind, Terzo, you know it."

With a content sound, Terzo keeps going, fingers skimming over the burn on his side, the latin sentence on his hip, the stretch marks on his belly, touch light and reverent. Omega exhales a pleased sigh, tugging Terzo closer until he can kiss him slow and soft, gasping when another cool palm comes to hold his face with a tenderness that could make his ghoulish heart burst.

"How did I get so lucky ?" the quint whispers in what very little space he finds between the both of them. "You are a dream come true, love."

Terzo huffs, white eye stark against the general darkness.

"I'd argue I'm the lucky one, my dear Omega."

Those careful fingers glide over his features, leaving cold trails of worship, and Omega closes his eyes.

"Not like this. Not like this, please," Omega whispers, voice hoarse, clutching Terzo's hand. Even through the leather of the glove covering it, it's so cold.

With a sob, Omega bows his head, forehead thumping against marble.

"Please, Terzo, don't do this to me, please."

But there is no answer, and the hand in his is cold in a way that means something far too catastrophic for Omega's brain to wrap around it.

See, this is nowhere near the usual chill of Terzo's perpetually cool fingers, the gentle coldness of his palm teasing aginst Omega's skin. No, this is a frigidity that speaks of absence.

Absence of life.

On his knees before his lover's body, Omega finally understands that he never knew real cold before this moment.