#the most fucked up lamp I still haven't finished making a shade for

[bringingdapperback]

Wasn't lying

i think what’s on a person’s nightstand is very telling so reblog this and put in the tags the things you have on your nightstand

[nastylittleghouls]

A Hazy Shade Of Winter

Relationship(s): Aether/Aeon, Aether/Dewdrop, implied Aether/Dewdrop/Aeon

Rating: Mature (to be safe)

Words: 2501

Summary: The first snow is always special. Aether takes it upon himself to show Aeon its joys as he knows it can hit differently for quintessence ghouls.

Warnings: brief mention of blood/death related to events before they were summoned during an anxiety episode on Aeon's side. Aether is affected too but guides them both safely out of it.

Notes: I haven't written anything in years and this was supposed to be a cute little ficlet to stick to my plans to be more creative again. Somehow, it ran away with me. I don't think it turned out too bad so, after careful consideration and battling my inner demons, I decided to share it. Please excuse my rustiness and thank you for reading! <3 The title is from a song by Simon & Garfunkel. The endearment Aether uses for Aeon is Irish Gaelic and means little bear.

AO3 LINK for the so inclined (Aeon is called Phantom there because I am STILL torn on the name. e_e)

The sun is barely kissing the horizon when Aether nuzzles Aeon awake, tells him “It’s time”, in a hushed whisper close against his ear. Aeon turns to curl into him, only to end up cuddling the lukewarm fur at the edge of the nest. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up with the smallest of winces and gives himself a moment to collect himself. Lets himself bathe in the toasty warm glow of oil lamps and the rekindled fireplace.

In Dewdrop’s presence next to him, hogging the nest and snuffling in his sleep. Unashamed and unfairly beautiful. Here, right now, Aeon feels like he is too, still riding the heights of having been welcomed between these two.

Ultimately, in Aether’s gaze. Affectionate. Appreciative. Aeon feels the urge to preen, maybe show off a little. Instead, he ends up following Aether‘s thick yet nimble fingers as they button up his shirt. How can he not?

Admittedly, he’s mourning his cozy spot tucked against Aether’s bare side already. The intoxicating scent of him and Dew mingled with his own. That he could stuff his face into his armpit and just block everything else out except for them and the ache in his body from last night. Just a bit, though. Watching Aether getting ready makes up for it, despite it being horribly distracting from his own task of getting up and giving him ideas of either pulling the other ghoul back into the nest or, even better, getting on his knees for him right then and there to continue his worship.

Both options would probably wake Dew up and ruin Aether‘s valid effort to let him sleep. Tempting but not worth the aftermath. Not today. It would probably cost him nest privileges. Dew doesn’t fuck around with that. Never mind that this isn’t even his nest. He just has Aether wrapped around his claws. All nine and a half of them.

Aether is smirking by the time Aeon finally looks up at his face again, nodding encouragingly towards the end of the nest.

There are fresh clothes already waiting for him, soft and thick and neatly laid out within reach. Even his new acquisition, a long scarf, that he had watched Cumulus and Sunshine working on in the common room quite often after the tour ended, to finish it before the first frost set in. He had not known the purpose of it back then and had called it a ribbon noodle until they had explained it all to him.

Seeing it grow, stitch row after stitch row had been fascinating. Not only had it made him want to be able to do that as well. It had made him feel like it was him that was ultimately being woven tighter into the patchwork that was this pack. His home.

Another whisper pulls him out of his musings.

„C‘mon, béirín. You‘ll need clothes for this kind of fun“

And that’s more than enough for the spark to ignite a flame of excitement inside him as well. Aether has never led him astray when it comes to introducing him to new topside things but it’s the endearment that holds the most importance to him at this moment. It makes him happily drum his fingers on his thigh before he’s rudely interrupted by the end of Dew’s tail smacking him in the face. It’s light, but he sends, an apparently now semi-awake, Dew a pout as he finally gets dressed anyway. He’s just. He has been waiting, not so patiently, for Aether to finally choose one for him. Of course, Dewdrop can’t relate.

Before they leave, Aether brushes a kiss against Dew‘s temple. It earns him a sleepy smile and a scritching for his sideburns in response. Which, in turn, elicits a low purr out of Aether. As his heart skips a few beats at the sight, Aeon can‘t decide which one of them he‘d rather be.

Snickering as if they’re doing something forbidden, they sneak through the still quiet hallways of the abbey, past the other Ghouls' rooms, towards the wooden door that leads into the courtyard. Aether stops to properly loop the scarf around Aeon’s neck, affectionately chuffing at him when he goes up on his tiptoes to bump their horns together.

Aeon relishes the moment until the very second Aether pulls away.

Heavy snowfall greets them as Aether pushes the heavy door open with his shoulder. As expected, he feels Aeon stiffen. Recoiling into the safety of Aether’s side, eyes squeezed shut. Their mental connection stutters, shuts down then reopens. Aether is prepared, a large hand placed over Aeon's lower back and his heart. Fingers splayed wide and grounding over the small frame, his quintessence beckoning Aeons and entwining with it protectively again once it found its way.

He knows what this sight does to new ghouls, first and foremost to the quintessence kin.

The sunrise painting white snow in red too similar to the blood and ash of fallen kin. The Heavenly Wars. The destruction of quintessence beings. The last scene before their eyes as the void claims back what Lucifer burrowed. If unfortunate, forever lost.

Aeon’s reaction infiltrates Aether’s vessel's nervous system like electricity and drags parts of his own long-forgotten fear to the surface again, as irrational as he knows it is. Makes his healed wounds burn anew. Gives him the illusion of putrid fumes invading his nostrils before he can reign himself back in again for both of their sakes.

Own up to his responsibility as one of the pack leaders. The blind trust Aeon extends towards him.

He’s fine. Has to be. For them.

“Timor mortis conturbat me,” Aether murmurs as he moves them forward, one of his hands seeking the outline of the pendants hanging low on his chest, buried under the thick wool of his cloak. One, unarguably the most important one, holds fragments of Dew’s horns. The before and after. A reminder of the strength and protection of a mate freely given.

He taps his next words into Aeon’s mind, not wanting to disturb the quiet around them. Maybe not trusting his voice either. It could crack and give out after all. All too weak.

“I’m here. Deep Inhale, deep exhale. I want to feel your body move with it”

He takes his advice as well. On the next exhale, synced with the smaller ghoul’s, Aether’s eyes close too, and with it, he finds his voice again. Even manages to put a smile into it.

“We’re safe. This is just snow, the very one we told you about. Listen to it fall”

His hands move up, putting the lightest pressure on the outer shell of Aeon’s ears with his thumbs, rubbing the pads over the edges. The pointed tips. They flick wildly under his ministrations before they still again and the smaller ghoul relaxes against him just slightly with an audible sigh.

It‘s the reaction that he was aiming for and again he moves his hands and tips Aeon’s face up towards the rapidly falling snow, keeping his fingerpads there to stroke light circles along his jaw.

”Feel it tickle your skin. How fluffy it is. Just like Lus’ hair”

Numerous seconds tick by before Aeon’s dulled-down quintessence aura blooms back into full force.

When Aether chances a look at the smaller ghoul, his eyes are open again as he finally takes his surroundings in without his fear overshadowing his excitement. Aether could swear he was even wearing the same awed facial expression Dew had worn, that Aether must have worn too when Omega had introduced them to this wonderful earthen spiel.

He snorts slightly, amused when Aeon goes cross-eyed at the sight of their breath fogging up in front of him, swatting at it with his hand as if he’s not sure what to make of it before letting out a curious chirp and slowly extracts himself from Aether’s side. Not without a cautious glance back to reassure himself once more that he is safe. Protected. Then he visibly shakes the remaining shadows of the past off and starts sliding through the snow, twirling carefree around himself, open-mouthed trying to catch the snow on his forked tongue.

The utter confusion when it doesn‘t pile up but melts is not lost on Aether. It reminds him of the raccoon trying to wash cotton candy that he and Rain had discovered while they were both sick and stuck in bed for a week.

It would be a shame if this wouldn’t find its way to Rain too for him to appreciate, wouldn’t it? But just as he reaches into his pocket, the younger ghoul trips over his tail while chasing it, limbs flailing in all directions, and falls into a snowbank. Face first, arms and legs starfished around him.

It’s quite deep, Aether can only see a Aeon-shaped immersion with his butt sticking out in the otherwise surprisingly pristine snow. It‘s a perfect still life, he thinks. Original oil on canvas. Aether titles it, tail as old as time' since Aeon's tail, the cause of it all, is curled like a piglet’s against his body. The Church of Satan will take your bids now.

“Fuck, that’s cold”.

Aether tries not to laugh. Attempts to look up into the falling snow, bite down on his bottom lip but it’s futile. Barks of laughter burst out of him with short, helpless sounds in between.

Aeon‘s tail swishes back and forth with them, bouncing like a coil spring, which sets Aether off even harder, tearing up a little. Until a muffled, yet high-pitched “Aeth. Help” reaches his ears and he quickly makes his way over, rolling the other ghoul onto his back.

„You okay?“

Aeon looks up at him with slitted eyes as he attempts to blow at the snow stuck on his face then his upper body shoots up, grabs, and pulls Aether down right on top of himself.

The cursed element of surprise.

They roll through the snow, their laughter and the occasional curse so loud that they’re probably waking the whole abbey up. Their tails lash playfully as they try to shove each other into the white cold - Aether‘s joints will make him pay for this later- until Aether finally realizes what Aeon is trying to accomplish. He isn’t trying to win or end up on top, he’s enjoying the way Aether’s body is pressing him down into the snow again and again. The way he covers him completely. Eyes shining brighter with every turn.

Aether boops the younger ghoul’s red nose when a higher slope forces them to a stop, about to give Aeon space to breathe when their laughter tapers off into them just grinning goofily at each other. Thinks about suggesting they make their way back inside to warm up with hot chocolate and pancakes to round this experience off. The temperature is affecting his protege by now if the shivers he’s trying to hide are anything to go by.

As soon as he realizes Aether’s intention, Aeon reaches up to pull the bigger Ghoul down into a kiss. He aims for sweet but ends up desperate. Aether allows it. Indulges him for a while by letting him lead. Humms with the wet slide of their tongues, then tips his head to a sharper angle, guiding Aeon’s enthusiasm into something slow and deep.

Aeon’s breath catches mid-moan with the intensity of it.

Slender arms wind themselves around Aether's shoulders, clinging. Keeping. Legs fall open wider in invitation, hips grinding his still sensitive cock up against Aether‘s with little gasps, boldly asking for more. For anything Aether is willing to give him. He’d let him take him right there. Wants him to. The wetness and cold that is seeping more and more into his body be damned. He just wants to feel that closeness and give himself over again.

I’m here. Please see me. Feel me. Let me be yours too.

„You could warm me up with something else,“ Aeon manages in between. It‘s cheesy, accompanied by the dorkiest eyebrow wriggle Aether has seen in his long life. A salute to Swiss influence, no doubt.

„Is that so?“

It doesn’t sound like a question. The mirth in Aether's words is a stark contrast to the heated look in his eyes. He should reprimand Aeon for mind snooping and not reward him with another kiss. But how can temptation not get the best of him when …

Fate doesn’t want him to finish that thought. A snowball hits Aether square on the back of his head, and he looks up, alarmed. A little confused.

Dew is leaning against the door frame, clad in nothing but one of Aether’s hoodies and knee-high socks that reveal a sliver of creamy skin every time he switches feet to protect them somewhat from the cold floor, regarding them with a mischievous smirk.

It’s betrayed by how his eyes are still unguarded from sleep, and the love Aether knows is always there. It‘s a look to be alluring, and it works every time. Dew knows how weak Aether is for him wearing his clothes, how stunning he looks, made obvious once more by Dew quirking a knowing eyebrow at him when their eyes meet and the demanding tug at their bond.

How long has Dew been watching them?

Aether smiles too sweetly down at Aeon when he whines, traps his still twitching hips with his thigh, and affectionately ruffles his hair. Mouths 'stay still' at him while he banters with an entirely unbothered Dewdrop. Aeon doesn‘t hear much of it, just happily gets lost in the touch, a shaky breath that he can thankfully pass off as being cold, leaving him. Aether’s attention being divided once more makes Aeon already miss having it entirely to himself. It’s rare. Too rare.

“Get the fuck back inside then. I’ll warm you up alright”.

It's the first thing he consciously hears Dew say before Aether pulls himself up. His grabby hands are not fast enough to stop Aether and he can’t stop the utterly sad sound that leaves him at the realization. “Now he acts like I’d leave him all by himself, “Aether teases with a chuckle and helps Aeon to his feet as well, patting the snow from his clothes. Aeon remembers to return the favor, subtly turning his head to look for Dew. The spot he had occupied is empty, the door closed again. Probably back in Aether’s warm nest already. 

When Aether walks back towards the building, Aeon lingers, looking down at the spot they just laid in again. The indents they left are already filling back up with a fresh layer of snowflakes. 'Snow’s pretty rad', he decides as he adjusts himself in his damp pants with the heel of his hand to get at least a little bit of relief, before finally catching up with Aether, ducking under the already raised arm to let him pull him against his side. Good boys can wait.

“So, about that hot chocolate…..”