krovsxkharmine:
“It wasn’t a dig.”
And yet Kharmine couldn’t help but to think otherwise. Ever since he’d been captured and taken to the castle, he’d only ever been chastised but then thought as brilliant. They’d been hot and then cold, and Kharmine was neither. He was always straight to the point without being wishy-washy. Otherwise, it was a waste of time. However, the other thought himself to be different, and the fae wasn’t sure what to think. A tiresome sigh escapes and his arms would fold across his chest as he’d close his eyes for a moment. “Did you ever think that maybe you’re just old?” He’d finally say, his violet hues settling onto him again. “Of course I am younger than you. You were probably there for the birth of Christ for all I know. If you believe in that.” Not that he wanted to open that can of worms, but he figured the other knew what he meant. “It’s fine.”
The fae too, would comb his locks through, even dropping his head back to get the stray hair away from his neck. He’d pause as the other continued, and an even bigger irritation than he had before began to well up. As if old wounds would reappear. He didn’t expect the other to know him or his history, and he could not fault him for that, but even still– talking of the realm was not a subject he wanted to broach on entirely. “It’s one thing to be vicious. It’s another to speak a truth that people are too afraid to say or hear. I have no relation to the Unseelie Court. We are not all the same.” Magic had been used to make Kharmine, thus making him an outcast for the entirety of his life. Had he cared? No…… maybe. Not that any of it mattered. He did not partake in the war, and hadn’t cared that the portal closed or people were enslaved. At least in part he hadn’t cared. Why would he when no one cared for him?
It was intentional but also unintentional as he’d clear his desk, making space. Though it kept his thoughts and hands busy as the two would banter and a laugh would finally escape the fae. Though he had to admit, he was somewhat interested now in what the other was saying. “Do I know it?” He’d glance over, teasing just slightly, though he hadn’t meant to. “I don’t know you at all, Councilman. You’re just threatening me with a good time at this point.” His back had been partially facing the other, but if one could see, there was a twinge of a smile on his face. “Again, I don’t care about my people, but– I cannot leave…not…yet.” He’d had unfinished business that he didn’t have any intent on sharing with the other. “Maybe once I figure out the problematic project I have now– then maybe..” He had not shown Mukuro, but it was clear that his skin had been marked with a cursed object, black veins along one arm and part of his chest in show for it. Khar would visit a certain hellhound to burn it out soon enough.
The fae would make his way back over, noticing in the way the other would retrieve his hair back and not bothering at first to move from where he stood across. “Am I? You cannot stand there being who you are and deny it fully.” The fae would walk around his now emptied desk to stand close beside the other, not caring at this point if he’d been in the other’s space. He’d meet his face, as if searching for something that he could no longer hear. That stupid little trinket keeping the other’s thoughts to himself. “It’s not pity. I could give you a suppressant if you wanted it to offer some relief, but I won’t. Clearly I don’t care who or what you are. As you’ve basically pointed out. So it’s not that?” His brows would furrow in question and mild intrigue now that he was actually close enough to get a decent look at the man. Khar would pause, letting the other finish until his hand would reach out to again take a piece of the other’s hair, leaning in just a bit so that their faces had been close as well.
“I’d rather keep you as a friend then if it’s all going to be thrown away for the sake of a pity-fuck.“
“Now who’s being assumptive?” Fuck the part of him that had been a trickster, because now he could not stop himself. Maybe the other had been right. Maybe he was vicious. Maybe that’s what stopped him from following through to begin with. “Just shut up and kiss me before I change my mind,” he’d speak rather lowly, the desk having already been cleared as they’d spoken. Kharmine, thinking ahead. He was no gentleman.
.
“Did you ever think that maybe you’re just old?”
The sigh that heaved from Mukuro’s chest was one of never-ending exhaustion. Weary, bone-deep, as ageless as the rest of him. “All the time.” He chuckled, a mirthless, joyless sound as he turned to stare out the window at the grey sky above. It looked like rain - or perhaps snow. He hoped it would rain - he would’ve liked to have taken a run in the woods surrounding the castle and village. Pretend for a few, short hours that he was someone else. Something else. “Imagine...for a moment; that you’re an adult surrounded by children. No, not even children - infants. And they’re not yours, you didn’t beget them. No relationship whatsoever but they are bumbling and foolish and ignorant because of course they are. You can’t fault them, they’re babes. Barely weaned.” He drummed his fingers against the edge of a wooden surface nearby.
“Imagine that you’re trying your best to keep them from ruining everything. They’re in your house, in your backyard, in your closet. They’re staining things, accidentally tripping, spilling oil, ruining your garden. You keep trying to round them up but you can’t, you’re only one person after all. Two arms. It’s your home they’re ruining. Your forest they...” He stopped himself, realizing a little too late that he’d lost himself in a reverie. That he was just babbling about nothing in all reality. Words he hadn’t meant for anyone to hear. For a moment, he wished he hadn’t been so old.
He wished to be young again. In a place unspoiled. He turned his gaze back to a Kharmine with a heavy inhale of breath and shrugged. “Yes. Yes, I know I’m just old.” He let his voice simmer on the word. It wasn’t a good enough word for the purpose but it suited. It would have too.
As the other kept speaking, Mukuro found himself chuckling. “Certainly.” He wasn’t going to bother with arguing on the semantics of it. A touchy subject obviously and one it would remain.
“Again, I don’t care about my people, but– I cannot leave…not…yet.”
Mukuro nodded; “I wasn’t asking you to elope with me. Take your time, think about it.” He smiled, haggard from heat though it was. He was just about to make his exit when he saw the other move towards him and Mukuro stopped, eyeing the man in front of him before glancing towards the cleared desk with an intrigued expression.
“Now who’s being assumptive?”
For an infinitely small second, Mukuro’s eyes narrowed at the sting. For that moment - he felt very small at having assumed they were friends. And he had! He had assumed. He had believed that he might’ve made a friend that could stand as an equal in intellect if in nothing else but he’d never actually asked if that was the case. He’d never asked if he’d been wrong. Glancing around the office - he wondered if he was just another intruder to him. An annoyance to slow down a busy day. His eyes moved to the piece of hair now held in the other’s grasp and gave into the request - kissing Kharmine hard. As needy as heat allowed.
His hands were quick as they moved to the other’s shirt hem as he sat on the edge of the desk. Well, at least I’m not ruining a friendship then.

















