#sike asshole have an ask reply instead of beach shenanigans

[schleckermaul]

🍭 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨! combining two here bc im insane. red eyes + soft words — by @archaictold

clink, swoosh, scrub.

   even after having lived in this world for the better part of five months, now, break hasn't learned the art of chores. none of the people that he shared a house with ever stayed long enough for him to care. if there was a plate in the sink or a dirty cup on the kitchen counter, who was going to bother him about it?

   apart from the odd comment from aurelius, break has been comfortable nesting. if pressed, he can always mention that he's lived in a mansion with servants at his disposal until the point of his arrival. and, of course, nobody has to know that he was one of the servants. some details are best left with the storyteller.

   and in zhilan's house? his roommates are usually dutiful enough to remove a stained dish break had left behind. he doesn't need to bother himself with it, if he doesn't want to.

   right now, it's the middle of the night, and xerxes break is at the counter of zhilan's kitchen, doing the dishes.

clink, swoosh, scrub.

   there's something rhythmic about it, isn't there? maybe that's what gilbert likes about being in the kitchen so much. the repetition, requiring none of his mind's thoughts to work, an ease that only improves with each dish now cleaned. break imagines that baking has a similar foundation, rules already made for you to follow.

   he opened the window before he started. not only the cool night air rushes in, smelling of rain and stars, but also soft noises from outside. the buzzing noise from a lamppost. a distant conversation, passing by. the gentle breeze of wind. there's a world, outside. break doesn't have to participate in it, not when he's in zhilan's kitchen, doing the dishes. but he hears it.

   when the night is dark and all is silent, sometimes, it overwhelms. when his mind offers him a nightmare he's seen a thousand times before, he slips out of the bed he shares with somebody precious, and enters the kitchen in search for something to eat.

   only it was still dark and silent after he'd eaten the last cupcake of a box they'd bought yesterday.

   so, he's doing the dishes, and he's listening, and he's breathing. always hard to remember to breathe and smile at the same time.

   if he weren't himself, he might have startled at the footsteps, slowly approaching, too consumed in his own thoughts. but he is himself, to his own utmost dismay, so he determines the soft slippers tiptoeing across a wooden floor to be zhilan's. it allows him less of a startle, no real need to shy away from revealing this task he's set himself to. with a towel in one hand, and a plate in another, break only turns his head in zhilan's direction.

   which, in turn, seems to cause a small startle in zhilan. break isn't entirely sure about it. there's a soft inhale of breath, barely audible, and a moment of hesitation before he speaks up.

   " xerxes ... what are you doing up? are you ... " another pause, and break thinks he can imagine zhilan squinting in his direction. he wonders if he remembered to put on his glasses before leaving his room. either way, his vision should be limited, since break doesn't need any source of light to move around, only the moon illuminating the kitchen through the window. " are you doing the dishes? "

   eyes blinking, his grin is almost sheepish, waving his towel a few times, as zhilan continues stepping to his side, as quietly as he's able to. ' i am, ' break chirps, lowering his voice as soon as zhilan shushes him softly. ' doing the dishes. quite a few of them. '

   " i can see that, " zhilan mumbles. he sounds ... sleepy. break wasn't really prepared for another person to enter his mix of dark and sound and dishes, so he's struggling a bit with picturing where zhilan is, how he's feeling, where he's looking. reaching out a hand, as if on instinct, it lands zhilan's cheek, and break realizes that zhilan wasn't looking at the dishes, but at him.

   ' rude, ' he murmurs, amusedly. his thumb stroking over zhilan's cheekbone, fingertip just barely reaching his mole. ' talking about sight with a blind man ... '

   zhilan snorts, a very small sound, a bit rough. he sounds sleepy, break finally decides. malleable. for a second, he'd thought ...

   ' did i scare you? '

   a beat, though no tension in it, as zhilan leans into the hand on his cheek, his own coming up to fit itself between break's neck and shoulder, close to a scar still hidden away, even now. " not at all, " comes easily.

   " you looked a bit like a ghost, i suppose. the moon ... with how it's shining through the window, it caught the red of your eye. "

   that should be something bad, break knows. feels it, in his chest, some of the ease now chained to the ground. as if he'd reached a limit on this small bubble he'd allowed himself for the night. he sighs, a sound half pressed and half relieved, closing his eye as if on cue.

   they called him the red-eyed specter, once upon a time.

   zhilan's touch pulls him back before he can topple. his hand travels to break's hair, getting a bit long once again, almost touching his shoulder. rubs one white strand of hair between his fingertips. when break leans in to press his forehead against zhilan's head, he can feel the warmth of his cheeks entirely through proximity.

   " it's pretty, " is mumbled again, shyly, now, not sleepily. " with your hair ... it looks bright. you look ... pretty. "

   it's a stumble to the finish line, but zhilan gets there. break giggles, his nose pressing into the bridge of zhilan's, and he presses a kiss to his eyelid as it slides closed under his lips. he's giggling, too, with a bit of abashedness to it.

   that turns into a squeal when break shoves the hand that was in the water of the sink, now clean but terribly cold, up the back of his shirt, but it's a sound break craves nonetheless.

   something bad, once upon a time. there's no space to dwell on it, with the world outside only trickling in, and the world inside so warm and happy underneath his fingertips.