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Tiger & Bunny AU, I am never attempting to draw mech suits again.
They're a hero duo (regardless of whether I go with Season 2's buddy system or not) and their Next abilities are stripped down versions of their canon magic (Sting can shoot laser beams, Rogue can manipulate shadows).
Sting's identity is public knowledge, Rogue's is not, but he does post photos of Frosch on social media. Their hero names are White Saint and Phantom Shadow but I'll probably change those.
Peals of laughter rang across the meadow, like music to Rogue's ears. He hadn't caught what Lector had said to make Sting laugh like that, but it didn't really matter. Rogue was just happy that they could laugh like that.
Sting flopped onto the ground, out from the shadow of the large oak and into the warm august sun. The bright light caught on his blond hair, merging with his faint bio-luminescence to frame his face like a halo.
That was the memory Rogue managed to cling to that night, as he tried to ignore his shadow. Joyful memories helped keep it at bay, or at least that was what he liked to tell himself. They helped him resist, at least.
Rogue didn't want to wake Sting. He already felt wretched enough. The mere existence of the homicidal urges that the shadow personified made him a monster, and interfering with Sting's sleep would harm the guild. He was already working so hard.
~
Every time Rogue smiled at him, Sting felt out of place. He had spent years being a douchebag, and he often caught himself thinking the same things he had at the time. Rogue, meanwhile, had always hated the way Sabertooth had operated. He was flourishing under the new Sabertooth, and Sting couldn't help but feel unworthy. He was still stuck in his ways.
He was still a terrible person, while Rogue was nothing short of an angel. He hated himself for having Rogue's heart. It should have gone to someone more deserving. He would drag Rogue down with him, he knew he would. Rogue would follow him to hell and back.
"Sting? What's wrong?" Under the table, Sting clenched his fist, nails biting into his skin. Rogue wasn't supposed to notice.
"I'm just a little stressed. Paperwork's getting to me." Sting hastily lied. Rogue handed him a plate full of slightly charred eggs. "Thanks."
Rogue gave him a pat on the back before sitting down to eat his considerably more burned eggs. Sting considered forcing him to switch, but didn't. He was just glad that Rogue had let things go.
~
"Hey, Sting? You should give it a rest for tonight." Rogue told him. Sting looked up at him with a tired smile.
"I'll be up in a minute. You should go up ahead." He answered. Rogue felt his chest tighten, unable to stand watching Sting work himself to the bone. Rogue did what he could, but most documents needed the guildmaster himself to fill them out, and nothing they told the council could convince them that Rogue was qualified to do it.
"One minute, and then I'm dragging you up to bed." Rogue conceded, leaving the office door open as he left. He went back upstairs and poured water into hot water bottles. He had put the kettle on before heading down.
The bed would be warm and comfortable on this October evening. Sting would be able to sleep properly. Rogue felt a small prickle of pride at that.
~
The space beside him was empty. That simple realization brought a way of terror crashing down onto him. Where was Rogue?
A brief taste of the air told him that Rogue was on the windowsill. It also carried the taste of blood. That terrified him, and he leaped to his feet. Rogue jumped at the sound, eyes wide and stricken. Sting marched over to him, capturing him in a hug.
"What's wrong, dear?" he whispered, burying his face in Rogue's hair.
"Did I wake you?" Rogue quietly asked, ignoring Sting's question.
"No." Sting gave Rogue a small kiss on the tip of his ear, prompting a small giggle from him. "What happened? Why are you bleeding?"
Rogue squirmed out of Sting's grip to inspect his arms, looking shocked to find that his nails had dug into them. "Oh. Not again…"
His nails had been getting long. He had agreed to let Yukino do them once they were longer. Now they were caked with blood. Looking at Rogue's arms, Sting noticed several small scabs strewn out across them, surrounded by a rainbow of bruises.
"Come on, Rogue." Sting said, taking Rogue's bloodied hand and leading him to the bathroom. He sat Rogue down on the edge of the bathtub and rustled around the cabinets for the nail clippers.
"What are we doing?" Rogue asked, looking pale and sickly under the bright lights. The shadows under his eyes mixed with the redness of tears to make a purple color.
"You need to cut your nails. I know you promised Yukino she could paint them, but you're hurting yourself." Sting told him firmly, grabbing the clippers and taking Rogue's hand when he didn't protest. He looked downcast, but he let Sting do what he had said.
The clicking of the clippers rang throughout the silent bathroom. Rogue's shoulders bunched up around him as he started to tremble.
"What happened, dear?" Sting said, his voice shockingly loud. Rogue looked up, staring into his eyes. He took several deep breaths before trying to answer.
"My shadow won't shut up." Rogue admitted, sounding ashamed. Sting ceased his clipping for a moment, confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked, resuming his work. He was nearly done.
"I told you before. It only used to talk once in a while, but since… the dragons arrived, it comes back every night. I know you said it was just in my head! But I can't make it stop." Rogue said, hands shaking so much that the clippers slipped, nicking his pinkie.
"Shit!" Sting cried, trying to stem the bleeding. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"It's alright. Thanks for doing this." Rogue said shakily. Sting put pressure on the wound, trying to think of when Rogue might have told him about the shadow. Finally, it hit him. It had been years ago, but he finally remembered.
Rogue had woken him up in the dead of night, begging him to kill his shadow. Sting had been confused, but Rogue had looked scared, so he had lit up the room for him. Rogue hadn't elaborated on anything, so Sting had let him sleep in his bed for the night. And most nights after that.
"I thought you were just scared of the dark." Sting confessed, relieved to find that Rogue had stopped bleeding. "What does it tell you?"
"To kill you. Everyone, but mostly you." he said after a few moments. His voice was bitter, filled with self-loathing. He got up, leaving the bathroom. Sting followed him, but Rogue refused to turn to look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stayed for so long. I should have left as soon as I started hearing it." he muttered, making for the door.
Sting grabbed his hand and reeled him back in, pinning him to the wall and pulling the key out of the lock. "Where are you going?"
"Away. I'll be gone by morning, I promise." Rogue still wouldn't meet his gaze, but he had yet to enter his shadow. Sting still had a chance.
"Don't. Please!" he begged, clinging to Rogue's wrists like a lifeline. "I need you."
He heard a dull thump as Rogue rested his head against the wall. "But I'm a monster. Don't you see? If I didn't feel that way somewhere deep down, I wouldn't be hallucinating this stuff. I wouldn't have gone back in time to kill everyone!" he frantically tried to convince Sting, who didn't believe it for a second.
"No, my darling. I promise that that's not true. I know you better than anyone, and that's not you. You care about us, and whatever that shadow is, it isn't you!" Sting growled, loosening his grip on Rogue's wrists. Guilt washed over him as he noticed bruises forming. By means of an apology, he pulled one closer and kissed it gently. "You're kind. You're good. You're everything I could have asked for."
He was too good for Sting. But Sting couldn't help but cling to him. He needed him. Rogue was his other half. His better half. No matter how often Sting entertained thoughts of letting Rogue find someone better, he never seriously considered it.
"I don't deserve you. I don't know you could settle for me." Rogue admitted. "But thank you for loving me."
"Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?" Sting asked, unable to process the words.
"Come on, Sting. You obviously deserve better." Rogue insisted. Oh. He actually believed that. Sting let out a huff of relieved laughter.
"I can't believe you actually think that. And here I was, terrified you'd finally wake up and leave me for someone better." Sting said, sitting down on the floor and dragging Rogue with him. He slung an arm around him, pulling him closer. "I'm not even joking. You're the best thing about me, Rogue. Even if everyone in the world was in love with me, I'd still choose you every single time."
"You thought I'd leave you for someone else?" Rogue asked, leaning into him.
"How could I not? I was a dickhead, and I still kind of am. And you're kind and loving and everything I'm not!" Sting explained, his chest hollowing out as he worried Rogue would realize how much better he deserved.
"But you're kind and loving too." Rogue said softly, facing him for the first time since he'd run. Then he sighed. "I guess we're both stupid, huh?"
"Yeah." Sting agreed. "But you know you love me!" he joked.
Rogue smiled. "Yeah. I do."
"Come on. Let's go back to bed." Sting suggested, but Rogue resisted, deciding he wanted to cuddle here and now. That was the opposite of a problem, Sting decided. He pulled Rogue closer to his chest, feeling him snuggle closer and the smile growing on his own face. "What a cutie." he muttered, grinning at Rogue's annoyed grumble. He ruffled his hair, feeling the sleek black locks slip through his hand. The movement stirred up scent of raspberries.
Rogue soon fell asleep in his arms, lightly snoring. Feeling sleep encroaching on him, Sting considered carrying him to bed. But Rogue looked so comfortable here. Sting couldn't risk waking him. He was feeling pretty cozy himself.
~
Rogue woke up, feeling lighter than he had in years. Warm, heavy arms were wrapped around him, almost sending him back to sleep. The only thing that stopped him was the realization that they were on the floor. Sting was leaning against the wall, Rogue's head leaning on his chest. The night's events came flooding back.
Rogue used his magic to slip out of his grasp and crouched down besides Sting. He carefully slipped his arms under him, picking him up and taking him to their room. Frosch and Lector were still asleep in bed, and Rogue made sure not to wake them when he tucked Sting in. Rogue lay down onto the blankets, half-lying on top of Sting. Sting quietly mumbled something into the covers, moving closer to him.
